#bts elderly au

[justimajin]

The Solace Window

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Namjoon)

Genre: Angst

↳ 15.8k / Older Couple AU

Summary: Kim Namjoon is no more, and you are left behind as a 75 year old widow. Stuck in between experiencing grief and mourning your late husband, your search for solace seems more and more far-fetched. That is until you stumble upon widowed Jung Hoseok.

*Warnings: Depictions surrounding death, grief, depression, spousal loss, miscarriage, fertility issues, illness, growing older, familial issues, mistreatment of the elderly, old age homes. This story will deal with heavy topics and reader discretion is highly advised.

A/N: After much contemplation, I have decided to write this fic. It is very personal to me, and one that I really wanted to share.

He’s gone. 

Kim Namjoon is laid to rest in the casket in an eternal sleep. His gray hair has been carefully combed back against his wrinkled skin, and he’s dressed in an elegant black suit, arms folded and resting on top of his chest. He wears a content expression, brows smoothed out and lips tightly shut.

He’s gone, forever. 

A handful of individuals surround him; namely a couple in their late thirties clad entirely in black. The wife clutches onto her husband’s shirt, thick tears streaming down her face and tremors shuddering through her shoulders. 

“D-Dad…” She chokes out, burying herself further into her husband’s embrace as he wraps his arms around her. 

There are two small children with wide eyes, glancing between their mother and father in curiosity. Their gazes then flicker over to the rest of the people who have gathered, before looking back at the older lady sitting on the side, who holds a somber expression and far too much anguish in her eyes. 

You can only watch as the service is completed and you have to say your farewells. You can only watch as you keep the deep ache in your chest at bay, attempting to keep yourself from crumbling. You can only watch as your loved ones are a mess, sobs echoing from the room. 

You can only watch as your husband departs from this world, leaving you behind. 

You are silent the entire ride home. 

When the multiple cars arrive at the large complex, you already begin to carefully shift out of the vehicle, not waiting for anyone to help you out. Your cane hits against the pavement and you place pressure on it, moving slowly with a hunched back. 

You trail along the sidewalk until meeting the front steps, cautiously raise your feet and walk on them one by one. Weakly pushing against the door, you tread towards the staircase, having no desire to eat and wanting to head straight to your room. 

A gentle hand on your shoulder halts you. 

Turning around, the woman stares back at you with a swollen but intentful gaze. She’s inherited your eyes and Namjoon’s smile, her expression scanning your features. 

“Mom…” She calls out, but you don’t have the strength to hear her words. 

“I’m tired, Naree.” You quietly whisper, and she moves her mouth as if to speak again, but her own words fizzle out. She simply nods, swivelling away as her eyes brim with water. 

You gradually ascend onto the steps, pushing your cane against the wood before hauling your shaking feet upward. After a couple of moments, you manage to reach the top, shuffling your feet into your bedroom. 

The bedroom you once shared with Namjoon. 

There’s a double-sized bed in the middle with two dressers, one of which has Namjoon’s medications carefully stacked to the side, a small lamp and a book with a bookmark that he was in the midst of completing. There’s two picture frames off to the side, a much younger you with a huge smile hugging a shyer and much younger Namjoon, the snapshot taken seconds before he had accidentally stumbled and taken you down with him. 

You move closer to the other dresser, the one that contains all of your belongings. Setting your cane securely against it, you slip into the covers, bringing them up to your chest until you’re completely nestled. 

As you stare at the ceiling, silence greets you. There’s the faint tick of the clock on the opposite side of the bed, the very one Namjoon had installed so it was easier for him to figure out the time without squinting and straining his eyes. It’s accompanied with a side that is now empty, his scent still lingering on the pillow that sits right next to yours. 

The silence continues to greet you the longer you stare at the ceiling, and it’s absolutely deafening. 

The tears rise before you can stop them, rolling down the crinkle of your eyes. The longer you wait, the longer you stare, the more it becomes inevitable with every passing minute. 

He’s not coming back. There’s no him arising from the door, slowly parting it as he sheepishly admits he had accidentally fallen asleep on the couch downstairs, mind growing absent these days. There’s no dim light radiating out from your side, a pair of glasses on the rim of his nose as he carefully turns the pages of his book. There’s no familiar dimpled smile wishing you goodnight, no soft kisses against your forehead before he slips into the covers with you, pulling you into his warm and comfortable embrace. 

There’s nothing anymore and it’s something that slams into you, being wide awake despite living in a walking nightmare. 

A harsh sob rips from your throat, echoing against the silent walls. 

You are numb.

You slowly peel open your eyes in the morning, the faint sunlight seeping through the same floral curtains. The side beside you still stays empty, as you continue to sleep on your own side. The belongings on the opposite dresser are untouched, small specks of dust long beginning to settle. 

A year has passed since the tragedy, and you are still numb. 

You rise onto your feet, your wrinkled hand reaching out for your cane. Weakly pushing yourself off the bed, your feet stagger as you pad through the room and head into the bathroom. 

Setting your cane aside again, you turn the tap on and the water flows. Pooling it in your hands, you splash it over your skin, the water feeling tender against it. Glancing in the mirror, a low sigh leaves your lips. 

The lines on your features have deepened and increased, small indents showcasing near the corners of your eyes and your mouth. Your cheeks have become hollow, bone beginning to surface and protrude out. The bottom of your eyes have darkened, skin sagging down.

There's a saying you’ve roughly heard in passing – one that Namjoon’s mother had echoed to you when his father had passed away and you were inquiring how she was. 

She had said that for many couples, after your spouse passes away, the grief only seems to accelerate the aging process tenfold and that it wouldn’t be too long till her own day would come. 

At the moment, the thought itself was devastating to hear. But you never thought a day would come when her words would be so utterly true, your face having aged more within one year compared to the last five years you had spent with Namjoon. 

After washing up solemnly in silence, you pad back through into the desolate bedroom, before exiting and slowly descending down the stairs. 

Naree’s voice echoes through the room.

“...–not eating on time and barely talks, I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“It comes with age.” Her husband, Seojun, echoes, “You should know that she’s growing old.” 

“I know,” She huffs, “But she won’t even go through my father’s belongings, instead she insists on keeping everything the same and it’s been so long–” 

You quietly clear your throat, leaning against the staircase beside the kitchen. Naree spins around with wide eyes and both of them freeze, as if they had been caught. 

“Mom–” 

“I’m feeling tired.” You simply say. 

“Let me make you some tea.” She brings up immediately and you nod, turning around with another word. Naree and her husband glance at each other silently, before she moves towards the kettle. 

You walk over to sit down on the large couch at the side in the living room, the one that has enough cushions for your hunched back. Sitting down with a large heave, your gaze falls onto the window. 

A small girl stumbles into the room. 

Her wide eyes are bright, a familiar dimpled smile on her lips and a photo in her hands.

There’s a soft upturn to your lips and she beams, rushing over in an instant. 

“Grandma!” she squeals, body falling near your legs and head landing in your lap. Another younger girl pads in quietly behind, following her older sister with curious eyes.

“Nayoung.” You reach out and tenderly stroke the eldest girl’s hair, who is around eight years old, before moving your eyes to the four year old behind her, “Dambi.” 

The youngest smiles and you widen your arm, to which she pads closer and rests within your embrace.

You hug your grandchildren with all the love you have left to offer. 

“Grandma!” Nayoung excitedly rambles, placing a frame into your withered hands, “Is the baby in this Mom?” 

You take it and flip it around, eyes widening to find the picture of you, a small child in your arms and Namjoon’s hand resting on your shoulder. You’re smiling but your eyes are brimming with tears, as so are his as the baby stays rested within your comfortable embrace. 

Your eyes gloss over for a split second, but you sniffle, bringing your attention back to your granddaughter. 

“No, it isn’t.” You explain, “It’s my son…. your Uncle Haneul.” 

Nayoung stares at you with surprise, glancing at the photo frame again. “Uncle Haneul?” 

You slowly nod and she continues to stare with fascination, even glancing back at Dambi and pointing towards it like she had uncovered a hidden secret. 

“Where’s Uncle Haneul?” Dambi ponders, and your eyes soften.

“Following in his father’s footsteps.” You whisper, “He became a professor, and he’s been exploring the world for his research.” 

Ever since Namjoon passed away. – you want to add. 

You take the frame from Nayoung’s hands, “This picture is when he was first born, before your mother was.”

Haneul and Naree. After years of love and even more years of building a life together – a relationship, a marriage, a home, you and Namjoon had decided that you wanted to have kids. Through the ups and downs, the panics of pregnancy to the bliss of becoming parents, you both were blessed with two children that you love dearly. 

In return, Haneul had ultimately decided that becoming a parent wasn’t something he had desired, something both you and Namjoon had understood from afar and confirmed when he had brought it up to you. Instead, he wanted to travel and was inclined to be hungry for knowledge, much like Namjoon himself. You had to convince him to leave after Namjoon’s passing, insisting that life was too short and he should be living his, instead of fretting over the family. 

On the flip side, Naree married her husband a couple of years back, and you had met your precious granddaughters, Nayoung and Dambi, within that time frame. 

Within forty-seven years of marriage, you had seen it all, but it still comes racing back to you in a heartbeat, the memories still so vivid as you stare back at the single snapshot that captured it all. 

Nayoung watches you with a smile, and Dambi mumbles something that has light coming back to your eyes. 

“You used to be so pretty, Grandma.” The four year old states it so nonchalantly, resulting in her older sister gasping and whipping her head around. 

“Hey! Grandma is still pretty.” Nayoung persists. 

You deeply sigh, “I’ve gotten old, haven’t I?” 

“No, no!” Nayoung furiously shakes her head, “You’re not– …well, you are old, Grandma, but still so pretty!” 

A smile cracks onto your lips, long having forgotten what it felt like. Nayoung shifts, eyes growing uneasy. 

“Grandma…a-are you crying?” 

You sniffle, hurriedly wiping away your tears, The two children stare at you with rounded eyes and you softly chuckle, widening your arms. 

“How about you help Grandma feel a bit better?” 

Nayoung reacts immediately, launching herself into your arms as you bring her into your lap and rest your head against hers. Dambi crawls up the sofa and you pull her in as well, embracing the two with quivering arms.

Even in this bleak and lonely world, you are relieved to have them by your side. 

***

Naree stands by the living room entrance, a cup of tea in her hands. 

“Girls, it’s time to wash up and get ready for lunch.” She announces, and the two children glance up, before immediately rising to their feet. 

They both give you a quick wave before they’re scurrying away upstairs. 

Naree brings the cup and sets it down on the table in front of you.

“Mom.” She calls out and you turn to look at her. “Can we talk?” 

A deep sigh leaves you and you sink back into the chair, knowing it was all impossible to avoid. 

“I suppose.” You comply and she sits down on the couch opposite you, facing you directly. 

“I was talking…to Seojun…” At the topic of her husband, you shift and she continues cautiously, “I know how you feel about Dad, and he does too.” 

Your eyes downcast, “But we should really move his things into the storage room, Mom.” 

“And what about me?” You chuckle underneath your breath, “Are you eventually going to move me too?” 

“Mom.” She chides, letting out a long sigh. She looks tired, just like you. “It’s been a year since Dad passed away.” 

And a year since everyone had forgotten about him. 

You want to add, but keep silent, “I just think it’s really time to move forward…” 

There’s a deep ache within your chest, that only grows with her words. You knew this conversation was inevitable, but how were you to explain? 

How were you to explain that ever since Namjoon passed away, you’ve been consumed with an exorbitant amount of feelings that you could barely grasp?

Immense guilt that somehow through all this, you were still here while his death was so sudden. That you were still breathing and intact, all while he had struggled to do the same? 

Utter anger that he had left you here all by yourself after spending nearly half a century together, how he didn’t just take you with him, instead of you waking up everyday, longing to see him again. 

And of course – the grief. Perhaps the most painful of them all. 

You can’t go through his things without breaking down, reopening the jarring wound his demise has left over and over again when you see his clothes, his shoes, his belongings. The last remains of his existence and the last things you can desperately clutch on, mimicking a supposed fabrication of him still being with you. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, shaking your head with shut eyes. 

“My answer is firm, Naree.” 

“Mom.” She exasperatedly says, frustrated with your stubbornness that mimics her own. After all, she’s inherited your personality, except you’ve lived longer with all your experiences exceeding all of hers. 

“I’m exhausted.” You simply state, willing your shaking legs to get up. Once they do, you grab onto your cane, trudging towards the staircase.

Naree is silent as she watches you struggling to get up, unable to explain how much grief has been brought to her. Everyday she’s forced to watch her mother fall into a slump, surrounding herself with past memories and unable to break out of her shell. She’s granted only the fleeting moment of your former self when you interact with her daughters, but a part of her always wonders if a part of you had died alongside her father that day, that she ended up losing both her parents in some twisted way. 

She rubs her temples, feeling absolutely drained and tired beyond belief. 

A week passes by. 

There’s barely any change in your routine. You remain within your bedroom majority of the time, sleeping and occasionally being reminded to eat. You don’t speak much, carrying a solemn gaze and a deep frown on your lips. 

You don’t see much of Naree or Seojun, both of them occupied with their jobs and not making any effort to speak to you for the duration. 

However, one night you find them by the kitchen table, sitting opposite from each other. 

It was late into the hours and you had suddenly woken, on your way down for a glass of water. 

Naree stills. “Mom–” 

“What were you talking about?” You question, and Naree knows. 

She knows that you heard pieces of their conversation. The conversation about how drained she felt lately, work taking its everlasting toll on her, right before Seojun suggested taking a vacation and going out on a trip with the family. To the conversation shifting, Naree spilling out her worries and concerns about you, your old age and how much she could see your health deteriorating, to how much she can’t get through to you anymore, how much she’s just given up. 

However, what’s caught most of your attention is the sudden mention of a certain kind of home, one that notoriously knows how to take care of the elderly properly. 

“We should talk.” Seojun states, pulling out a chair for you. You reluctantly take it, slowly sitting down as your gaze oscillates between them.

Naree sucks in a deep breath, looking at her husband uneasily. “We were thinking…” 

“That it might be time for us to try something different.” Seojun finishes, glancing at you intently. 

You cut to the chase. “What are you trying to get at?” 

There’s a pause and Naree fidgets, eyes focusing onto her hands. 

Her next words have you freezing. 

“Mom…how would you feel about moving into an old age home?” Naree mutters.

A rigid chuckle leaves you, “So this is what it’s coming to, huh?” 

“Mom, please.” Naree insists in defense and if you weren’t so entrapped within your own thoughts, perhaps you would have noticed the fatigue running deep in her eyes or the stiffness in her shoulders, “It’s not an easy decision…but we’ve really thought about this.” 

Correction – Seojun has thought about this. You vaguely remember him bringing it up once, much to Naree’s protests and he let it slip by then. 

But now, you have grown older and gone through grief, which doesn’t make it implausible to bring up again. 

Except this time, you’re alone, not having Namjoon with you anymore to see eye to eye with Seojun as he always did and convincing him that you were better off together. 

You miss him so much. 

“Your health hasn’t been the same, Mom.” Naree explains, “And both Seojun and I go to work, the girls go off to school and–”

She deeply sighs, eyes becoming glossy. “I know, Mom…I know you’re lonely.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Ever since Dad passed away, I think our relationship has changed,” She simply states, her next words driving a wedge through your heart “…and I don’t think we have the same capability to take care of you anymore.”

You sigh, glancing up to look straight into Naree’s eyes for the first time since Namjoon’s passing. 

“It’s the trip too, isn’t it? The girls want to go, but you’ve resisted for a while.” You mention, “You kept saying that I needed you, and that you’ll eventually go, but you had to stay behind because of me.” 

Naree winces at how direct you are, not missing a heartbeat of the reality you’ve been noticing since the past year. 

Sucking in a breath, you ignore the deep ache residing within your chest, pushing it back into the farthest corner. 

“Fine.” You solemnly state, barely having energy anymore. “I’ll go, if that’s what you want.” 

Relief breaks out onto Naree’s features and Seojun softly smiles. You suppose it was bound to happen eventually, better sooner than later, and perhaps it would do some good for you, to continue on somehow. 

That is, knowing this will be your last days within the home you had once built with Namjoon. 

The move happens within a couple of days. 

Your bags are packed, with clothes and smaller belongings tossed in. Peering around, you stare at Namjoon’s side of the bed, ready to leave it as it is. 

But you step forward, glancing down at the book he was in the middle of reading. It was another dystopian sci-fi book he was curious about, having heard good reviews about it. 

You place it into your arms, giving the room one longing look before ultimately shutting the door. 

Naree and you sit in the car in silence, as you gaze out the window and reminisce over the passing neighborhood. 

You and Namjoon were incredibly young when you had first moved here, hunting down homes and furiously checking the pricing of the housing market. It had been only a couple of weeks since your marriage, both of you fresh out of college and in entry jobs when he had stumbled upon the location, coming up to you with bright eyes one day. 

The nostalgia brims in your eyes, but soon Naree is tapping against your shoulder. 

“We’re here.” She announces and you nod, before she proceeds to come over and take out your bags.

You glance around with a frown. 

It's a small residential area, appearing more like a stretched out home with many windows, accompanied with a garden area at the front that spreads to the back. 

Stepping inside, it doesn’t seem to get better. 

The walls are a dull white, and sunlight pours in from the windows, nearly blinding you. There’s a reception area that Naree steps closer to talk to, but you stand with a frown still on your lips, peering into the room at the corner, where you can hear laughs and chuckles. 

There's a bunch of chairs, with people around your age seated and conversing. They’re smiling alongside each other, while some others are knitting as well as playing cards. It takes you off guard for a moment, not accustomed to seeing so many closer to your age range after being around your own family members for so long. 

The place seems to smit a sense of peace with a hint of melancholy, and you’re truthfully not sure about how you feel about it. 

“They’re all set-up, Mom.” Naree walks closer to you and you turn, seeing her glance at her watch. “I need to get to work soon.” 

You hum and Naree still stands in spot, as if deeply contemplating. 

“Mom…I–” 

“Have fun with the kids.” You mutter, “Take them to nice places, places they want to see.” 

She nods, not lingering for a moment longer as she reluctantly turns around – leaving you all by yourself once again.

It's… unsettling. 

Everything follows a schedule and each day repeats, constantly. You’re told when to eat, when to sleep, when to do something fun – as they would like to call it – and the worst part of it all, you’re surrounded by strangers who know each other all too well. 

You, in the meanwhile, have been already quoted as being too quiet and solemn, something that makes you want to wrap up into yourself even more. You were never good at connecting with new people, regardless of where you were. 

Namjoon was always the sociable one, effortlessly commanding a room with his charm and charisma. You would sheepishly stand next to him, but he would always manage to include you somehow, making you feel less cut off from others. 

You let out a sigh – perhaps the only time you actually feel comfort is through the night, tucked underneath the streets with a book wrapped around your cold arms, sniffling as you’re surrounded with unfamiliar things in an unfamiliar room and attempting to lull yourself to sleep. 

Because moments like those are where you finally get to welcome his presence wholeheartedly.

You blink,squinting your eyes and raising your hand to block the sun. 

Except it’s not the same hand you’re used to – rather it’s no longer wrinkled, with your veins popping out and hands no longer tremoring. 

They feel strong, and you open and close your palm a few times astonished.

A pair of small legs tumble into your own and you gasp, glancing down at the boy who has the same features as your husband. 

He grins widely, “Mommy!”

“Haneul?!” You harshly whisper, raising the boy before lifting him into your arms. He looks no more than four years old. 

Haneul is four, which means can only mean– 

You are thirty-four. 

Glancing around, your eyes are snapping around frantically – taking in the expansive backyard which you barely would step in anymore, now littered with Nayoung and Dambi’s toys. The house that you left behind, just recently newly renovated upon your insistence. And your son, who looks up at you with wide eyes, as if you’re his entire world. 

You attempt to hold him close, biting back the sobs that threaten to take over you. 

A loud yelp resonates through the air. 

Your breath hitches, knowing that voice from anywhere. Whipping your head around, your legs are stronger, and you take long strides without needing a cane, carrying your son in your arms.

For there’s a small shed in the corner of your backyard and if you’re right, if your memory doesn’t fail you. 

The shed needs to be fixed and Namjoon took upon the task himself. 

The door goes flying open and his back is the first thing you see. 

“Not again…” He sighs, a hand planting against his forehead. There’s a bucket of paint that’s fallen to the ground, along with patches of the white colour sprayed against his ankles. 

You slowly set your smiling son down, who giggles and runs to his father. Namjoon instantly looks down, his hand reaching out that Haneul eagerly takes. 

Your voice comes out in a choked whisper. 

“N-Namjoon?” 

He turns with a huge smile and you’ve forgotten. Forgotten how crystal clear your memory once was, knowing his dark hair, crinkled eyes and dimpled smile anywhere. How much that smile hasn’t changed at all, fine lines maring around the corners instead, next to his grey strands of hair and weakened eyes. 

How despite the years – he’ll always be the same man you fell in love with.

“Y/N.” He deeply enunciates, concern etching onto his features.

“You’re crying, what– …” He takes long strides towards you, whispering as his hand makes contact with your cheek, “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffle, the tears pouring down as you’re no longer able to hold them back. 

Namjoon nearly stumbles back when you grasp onto him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He hugs you back, comfortingly resting his head against your forehead. 

“I-I missed you.” You sob out, not wanting to let him go. 

“Missed me?” Namjoon softly chuckles, threading his hand through your hair. “I’ve always been here, Y/N.” 

He separates you from him, holding onto your shoulders as he tenderly looks into your eyes. 

“I’m always here, Y/N.” 

You’re suddenly pulled away, away from his comforting embrace and eyes as a white light flashes over your eyes. 

You jolt awake, hearing only the faint sound of the heater echoing through the unfamiliar room. Reality crashes down onto you, painfully reminding you of your current location. 

The other side of the bed remains cold and empty.

The days churn by, and you are as miserable as ever. 

You sit quietly by the side and stare out the window, hearing a few others engage in conversation in small groups. There was something about doing a painting activity, but you had paid it no mind, too focused on the garden outside and grasping onto the book that sits on your lap. 

“Before I came here, my husband passed away three years ago.” A voice from afar begins. It comes from a woman, who appears much older than you. “It happened so quickly, I-I didn’t know how to deal with it.” 

There's a man sitting next to her, spotting a collared shirt and dark black hair. He looks younger than both of you, and he somberly listens to her. 

“How long were you together?” He wonders. 

“Fifty-five years.” The woman sadly chuckles, “We spent every day, every moment together…and then one day he was just gone.” 

Your heart clenches, no longer staring out the window. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but you’ve learned it's difficult when you’re surrounded by so many others, stories from so many different phases of life pouring out effortlessly in a single room. 

“I’ve heard it all,” She continues. “That he was in a better place, that I would heal with time, even that his time was bound to come soon….I-It hurt, a lot.” 

You watch as tears fill her eyes and her sadness fills the small space you’re in, a lump in your throat starting to form. You attempt to pucker your lips, threaten to silence yourself as much as possible, but the words spill out with far too much ease. 

“My husband…” You suck in a breath when her gaze falls onto you in surprise. “He…he passed away, about a year ago.” 

Her features twist, understanding deep within her eyes. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” 

You give her a half-smile and she presses forward, “How many years?” 

“Forty-seven.” You state, adding with a sad note “We never got to fifty…”

She solemnly nods and something in her gaze is just too much, alleviating the tension that has been festering and brewing within you. 

“He was kind, a little clumsy and forgetful, but still very kind.” You remorsefully chuckle. “Sometimes, it’s scary, like he’s never existed…and other days, I want to see him again, almost like–”

You silence yourself, eyes clamping shut as a deep ache within your chest just spreads and amplifies. 

A voice tugs you out of your thoughts. 

“Like what?” It’s the man next to the older woman, his gaze still on you. 

Your voice comes out in an anguished whisper, “Like how he visits me in my dreams.” 

It sounds strange and bizarre, you know this. But you’re startled when you glance up, only to find that woman giving you a kind look and the man softly smiling, as if he finds the notion to be pleasant. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He piques, “Seeing them again, as if they never left to begin with…” 

You stare at him in bewilderment, attempting to muster words up. 

But he beats you to it. 

“Five years.” He informs, like he knew what you wanted to ask. “Since my wife’s been gone.” 

You shake your head, not fully realizing his circumstance. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume–” 

“It’s okay.” He lets out a low chuckle, “I look much younger than I actually am.” 

You hum, acknowledging it right away. Alongside appearing younger, you notice his disposition appears to be the same as well, being much laid-back compared to anyone else you’ve seen here.

“What’s your name?” He asks, “I’ve seen you a couple times, but I think this is our first time talking.” 

“I-I’m not one for talking much…” You note, but he quirks his head to the side, like he didn’t believe that. “And it’s Y/N, Kim Y/N.” 

“I’m Jung Hoseok.” He introduces, gesturing to the woman next to him. “This is Lee Haewon.” 

She directs a friendly smile towards you and you attempt to return it back. 

“How old are both of you?” You wonder. 

“I’m eighty-five.” Haewon answers, squinting her eyes at the man, “Last I remember, Hoseok is sixty-seven.” 

“Seventy, Haewon.” He politely corrects, but with no malice. Almost as if he was expecting for her to get it wrong. 

She deeply exhales, shaking her head in exasperation. 

“My own name is going to be next.” 

“Don’t worry about that.” His eyes flicker to you, “When the time comes, we’ll be here to remind you again.” 

You nod in assurance and she warmly smiles, placing her cold hand on top of yours. You slowly grasp onto it and Haewon doesn’t move at all, instead ushering for you to sit closer to them. 

For once, the weight on your chest feels a bit lighter. 

The next day, you’re placed in groups again. 

However, this time the head of the home brings out various board games onto the tables, to which everyone requests for different ones and are soon creating circles. 

Despite the head asking for you to join this time, you sit in the same spot you had previously sat at, right beside the window as your eyes take in the others playing. 

The loud sound of a chair screeching against the floor startles you. 

Hoseok looks up with an apologetic smile, a packet of cards in his hands.

You watch with bafflement at how he sets up the deck before you, leaning over to hand you a couple of them. 

You take them reluctantly, wondering why he was here when he could just play with someone else, observing him lean back in his chair and cross his legs with a furrow in his brows. 

Now knowing his age, it was easier to spot his older features. How, despite having better functioning legs compared to you, his back is slightly hunched, shoulders beginning to cave in. How, despite having a majority of darker strands, there were noticeable specks of grey in his hair. How his eyes have to so occasionally squint to look at the cards, a hearing aid poking out from his right ear as he tilts his head. 

You also don’t fail to notice how as his brows furrow in concentration, two small dimples poke out from the corners of his cheeks. 

“Your turn.” He calls out, having placed a card down. 

You quickly look down at the cards, reluctantly placing one down. He continues to stare at his own intently. 

“You know, it was nice of you to talk to Haewon.” He mentions. 

You shake your head, “It wasn’t much, I was just talking about my husband anyways.” 

“It meant more to her than you think.” He exhales, placing a card down. “Most folks here either ignore her, or tell her to just move on.” 

A knowing smile crosses him, “I think we both know it isn’t as simple as that.” 

“It never is.” You quietly mumble, placing a card down yourself.

Hoseok hums at that, putting another card down. You glance around warily, wondering why you hadn’t seen Haewon yet. 

“By the way, where is she?” 

“Asleep, I overheard that she felt tired.” Hoseok does a half-smile, before it’s replaced with his usual nonchalant expression. 

You nod, curious about their proximity, “Have you known her for long?” 

Hoseok shrugs, “A bit, I just got to know her in the past couple of months. You know, the good ol’ chit chatting with one other while being in the same room.” 

His straight-forwardness catches you off guard, shocked by how settled he was.

“You seem pretty comfortable being here.” You note, observing him as he glances up. 

“I have to be.” He states with a lop-sided smile, “It’s the same for everyone here. After all, nobody came because they wanted to.” 

You freeze, forehead creasing as you stare at him blankly. Hoseok’s gaze lands on you, confusion running through it.

“Y/N?” He ponders, wondering why you weren’t playing your turn. You snap out of your daze, placing your cards down. 

“I-I just remembered something I needed to do–” You quietly say, slowly rising to your feet and locating your cane. “Maybe you should play with someone else…”

For a split-second, Hoseok tosses his cards and rises to his feet, as if to halt your steps. But you’re already walking away and he falters, slumping back down into his seat

His eyes are tinged with an indescribable emotion. 

You don’t know if you can be here any longer. 

But there’s nothing you can do about it. The days pass by and no one comes for you, no one tries to see how you are, how you’re feeling and it dawns one simple resolution to you. 

You’ve been abandoned here. Forever. 

The next day arrives and you clench your jaw, stepping out of the suffocating room that has been starting to feel more like a decorated prison than anything else. You wonder if you should come up with some excuse of staying back, preoccupying yourself with anything else rather than the activity of the day. 

But that’s until you’re informed you’ll be taken to the garden. 

Taking a step outside, it’s absolutely serene. There’s handfuls of well-maintained roses, peonies and tulips flourishing, all lush and blooming around the home. It’s both tranquil and inviting, the head informing you that there were watering cans, shovels and new seeds to be planted for everyone. 

You secure a can right away, propelling yourself forward with your cane towards the peonies. 

A small smile lines your lips. 

“Y/N!” 

You spin around, in the midst of cooing and feeding your one year daughter as she babbles on her high chair. 

Namjoon stands at the door, huffing with a wide smile on his lips. 

He raises his hand, a single purple peony sticking out. 

You gasp in astonishment, “You finally grew one!” 

“I did!” He exclaims. It had been months since he had been trying, your home littered with his bonsai collection until he wanted to try his hand at outdoor planting. 

He dashes over and scoops you in her arms, making you chuckle from his victory. Grabbing onto your hand, he edges you to follow. 

“Come on, you need to help me water them!” 

Laughing, you grasp onto Naree, letting him guide you. 

The water pours out from the small canister, sprinkling delicately onto the small petals. You watch with so much fondness, for so much love for the flower, as your hands continue to tremble. 

It slips from your hands and smacks against the pavement. 

You watch as the water spills everywhere and with a huff, quickly attempting to grasp it. But your knees violently shake, and your hands tremor far too much. You attempt again and again to bend down, but your attempts are all futile, more and more of the contents emptying and spreading out. 

Tears unknowingly prick at your eyes and your breathing is heavy, limbs aching from the sudden physical exertion. 

The smooth metal gently glides across your fingertips. 

You blink, confused eyes glancing up to meet Hoseok’s softened ones. You’re left frozen as he carefully tips it, his hand grasping the canister against yours and letting the water rain over the peonies.

You let him guide you, the water running through the remaining ones before it empties. 

“Wait here for a moment.” He directs you to a bench, holding your hands as you carefully descend down onto it. 

You observe as he saunters over to the hose, filling it with water again before letting out a satisfied hum. He then manages to grasp onto a handful of seeds and grabs onto a small shovel. 

He returns to you, “You should plant some too.” 

You quietly nod and he reaches his arm out, as if gesturing for you to hold on. You grasp onto him and he slows his pace, walking at yours. 

Everytime, you point at a certain spot, he leans down, making a hole into the dirt before dropping the seed in and sealing it with fresh water. He does it along the edge of the garden, right where the window to your room should be. 

He lets out a loud huff with the last one, chest rising and falling alarmingly. 

Your eyes widen, having completely forgotten his condition of age. 

“I-I’ll go get you some water.” 

Hoseok opens his mouth to protest that he’s okay, but you’re already propelling yourself forward, cane frantically hitting against the pavement.

He wheezes, letting out a couple of coughs before you’re standing near him, a water bottle in your hands that he gratefully accepts. 

“Are you okay?” You ask right away and he nods, turning to the flowers. 

“They’re beautiful.” He states and you hum, the wind weaving through the air. 

“I love peonies.” You quietly admit, and Hoseok grins, handing you the water bottle. 

He takes a couple steps forward, drawing closer to the older batch. Among all the colors, he snatches onto a bright orange peony, handing it to you with a soft smile. 

You bring it closer to you, the corners of your mouth upturning. 

It reminds you of the warm hues of the sun. 

Your hands tremor and shake, bone sticking out from your softened skin. It doesn’t help that the joints within your bones are incredibly stiff and deeply ache with each movement. 

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, and the needles looped in yarn falling down to your lap. 

Hoseok chuckles, reaching out and grasping onto where you’ve left off, attempting his hardest to cross them, pushing one needle into one end and looping it around. 

“You’ve missed a stitch.” You point out and he frowns, noticing the small hole he’s created instead. 

“Now how did that happen?” He deeply ponders, and a small smile tugs on your lips as he carefully inspects the placement, staring at it up and down. 

“You have to loop it carefully,” You softly explain, reaching over to place your trembling hand on his, “It should go through this stitch and then you let go of it to create the knot.” 

He follows your instructions, observing as you slowly tug his hand away from the loop, letting it unravel into a perfect stitch. 

Hoseok beams, throwing a grin in your direction and you look at him amused. 

“I think we make a lovely team.” 

You smile lop-sidely, “I don’t know, it’s more of me telling you what to do.” 

“A very important role.” He notes, raising the yarn up in his hands, “After all, this is now our group project.”

You chuckle at that and he gazes at you fondly, eyes crinkling.

“Kim Y/N?” The sound of your name has both you and Hoseok glancing up, “There’s someone here at the front foyer asking for you.” 

Your brows furrow, but then you catch the sight of a familiar silhouette. 

You scramble up from your seat, vision fixated on the backside of the person. Hoseok notices, immediately rising to his feet and handing you your cane, observing as you attempt to hurriedly stride over to the desk. 

“Naree.” You whisper, watching your daughter turn around wide-eyed. 

“Mom.” She steps forward, and you don’t hesitate to reach out, enveloping your trembling hands tightly around her shoulders. 

“You’re here, you’re actually here.” Your eyes are glossy. “I-I thought you left me by myself, I kept thinking about–” 

You freeze, surveying the way Naree’s eyes downturn, face void of expression. 

It doesn’t take long for you to connect the dots. 

Your voice cracks, “You’re not here for me, are you…?”

Naree sighs, “I was just on my way to work, and thought I’d stop by to see you.” 

“That’s all?” You mutter, but Naree latches onto your arm. 

“Mom.” She chides, but you don’t even want to look at her, “Isn’t this all better for you? You’re not lonely anymore.” 

“You’re wrong.” You feel more abandoned than ever. “And this all isn’t better for me, it’s better for you.” 

Your words are venomous and the corner of Naree’s mouth twitches. 

“How can you say that?” Naree sharply rebuttals. The two of you don’t notice all the lingering eyes watching your interaction, including Hoseok’s. “I want you to come back, but I discussed it with Seojun and we agreed you’d be happier here.” 

“And where was I in this decision?” You snap. “Or are Seojun’s words now more important than mine?” 

Naree’s nostrils flare and she looks like she’s had enough. 

She shakes her head, mumbling to coax herself. “Here I thought that dropping by was a good idea.” Her gaze is directly on you, hurt swirling in her eyes. “But now I’ve realized I made a big mistake.”

Naree turns on her heels, her fists clenched and rage enveloping every fiber of her being. You don’t make a move to stop her, simply staring at her backside and the growing gap each of her steps creates. 

There’s a deep ache within the center of your chest, one that expands and spreads, consuming you completely as your daughter abandons you once again. 

***

Everything feels like it’s crashing down. 

You’re seated within your room, having dismissed yourself and leaving your knitting session with Hoseok behind. You desperately needed to be alone, mind plaguing over and over with the image of Naree leaving, disappointment and rage embedded into her being. 

You wonder if you should have reached out, should have begged, for her to take you alongside with her. To take you back to the home you once shared with Namjoon and your family, wanting to feel the familiarity and the warmth that home contains. 

A sci-fi book rests within your lap, fingertips clenching onto it. You wonder if he can see everything, hear everything about the family you’ve created leaving you behind, casting you away like a mere thought that shoulders over them. 

Thick tears drop down, staining the paper of the book in your hands. Anguished cries leave you, shoulders shuddering as everything crumbles. 

You want to see him again, want to wrap your arms around him as he holds you comfortingly, want to have him shield you away from all these terrifying thoughts, ones that are absent of him. You hate how fast he was taken away, and wonder why he couldn’t have just taken you along with him.

A soft knock resonates against the door. 

You peer up, cheeks stained with tears and breaths coming out choked. You quickly set the book down, raising your sleeve to wipe away any existence of them. 

Padding slowly through the room, you wrap your hand around the knob and carefully open it. 

Hoseok stands in front of you, gaze downcasted and shoulders hunched in. It takes you by surprise, never having seen such a lack of optimism in his form. 

He looks up, eyes welling with tears. 

“Y/N.” He chokes, orbs widening at your appearance. “I-I can come again.” 

Before he can turn, you reach out, barely managing to graze his shirt. 

The expression he holds draws fear out from you. “I-Is everything okay? 

He pursues his lips, like he was attempting to prevent himself from tearing up, before he breathes out the words. 

“N-No, not really…” He sniffles, a lone tear escaping him. “H-Haewon…Haewon’s gone.” 

Your breath hitches, features twisting. “S-She just passed an hour ago…in her sleep.” 

His shoulders slump, eyes squeezing shut. 

“I-I couldn’t say g-goodbye….”

You step forward, arms wrapping around him in an instant. Hoseok shrinks within them, harsh sobs shuddering through his body. Tears unleash from your eyes, fisting the material of his shirt. 

You don’t know how long you stay like that, wrapped around in your collective grief. 

You are dazed. 

You find out that aside from being widowed, Haewon only had one son who was in a different country. He doesn’t come to the funeral, and it’s simply attended by a few individuals she had the opportunity to connect with at the old age home. 

Which includes you and Hoseok, standing next to each other in black clothing as you watch her casket be buried alongside her husband. Hoseok is silent the entire time, eyes empty.

You knew you weren’t as close to her as Hoseok was, but Haewon was a woman that had given you compassion when you had been desperately searching for it, not even hesitating to listen to your story. She shared the experience of having lost her husband and you recall Hoseok mentioning that she wanted to see him again, even if it meant being in the next life. 

You didn’t speak much to Lee Haewon, but she was such a crystal clear reflection of you – a woman dwindling with so much grief that she could barely hold. 

Her casket is completely buried and you reach out as Hoseok shudders, a tsunami of emotions hitting him all at once. Your wrinkled hand slides in with his, clutching onto it. He squeezes back tightly, as if you were the only thing anchoring him to reality. 

You quietly part together, bidding her your final farewell. 

Something is never the same in you after Haewon’s passing. 

It’s difficult to explain, the tightening sensation that coils around in your chest with no means of stopping. Your mind flashes back to instances with her, the kind and friendly smile she would always adorn. Or the way her hand was cold but still so warm, ushering you to come closer to her. 

It’s crushing, unable to bear with how fast life moves, clutching onto those whose time is no longer needed on earth. 

And it’s coupled with another feeling, one that is more erratic and rapid, making you nearly hyperventilate the more you sit in your room, the more you stare at the unfamiliar walls encasing around you at all four corners. 

It feels like it’s all you’ll be left with, bidding your own time goodbye within them. 

Which is why you leave, heading out your room door and into the garden. You don’t want to follow a schedule, or do activities, simply asking for permission to escape for a brief moment so you feel like you can breathe once again.

And it seems like you’re not the only one with the same idea. 

Hoseok sits on a bench a bit farther from the garden and house, his backside facing you and against the sun that begins to rise, peeking through the grass and illuminating its rays through the orange sky. 

It draws you in, and you walk forward in a daze.

You slowly sit down, back resting against the wood and setting your crane to the side. Hoseok’s attention flickers over to you. 

You quirk up a soft smile, “Couldn’t sleep?” 

He blinks after a moment, shaking his head with a sigh. 

“No….no, not really.” 

You hum, knowingly. “The sunrise is beautiful.” 

He nods silently. 

You sit in silence, enjoying the breeze wafting through the area and the way the clouds move rotationally, drifting through the clouds. The orange hues morph into the briefest of purple, light spreading over your skin and remaining within your irises. 

You suck in a sharp inhale. 

“Kim Namjoon.” You state as Hoseok turns to look at you, “My husband, who left me a year ago. He was followed by Kim Naree, my daughter, who left me a month ago.” 

His eyes find your own. “And then followed by Lee Haewon, who left us a week ago.” 

Your voice breaks. “I-I don’t know if I can handle anyone else leaving me...” 

Hoseok’s hand reaches out, placing it on top of yours. 

The corner of his mouth remorsefully curls up. “Don’t count me out so easily.” 

You smile, for the first time in weeks, and the sunrise takes over the sky. 

Taking up the opportunity, you vocalize all your innermost thoughts, “I’m not sure if I exactly belong here…I know I feel less lonely at least, but I don’t know if I can stay anymore.” 

“You want to leave.” Hoseok states, like he understands. 

Your words hold an infinite amount of weight, “I-I’m just…terrified. Terrified that I’ll be spending my last days here.” 

“Where do you want to go?” He genuinely questions. 

“Home.” You let out a low chuckle, “If that’s even possible anymore.” 

“It can be.” Hoseok softly smiles, two dimples showcasing on his face.

You reach out, clasping onto his head. “Come with me…please.” 

You know it’s a completely selfish request, especially when he seems to be much more comfortable here. 

But you forget that Hoseok has lost as well, defeat encasing the man more and more as the days draw out. It seems like you’re still his anchor, drawing him back before he’s completely gone. 

His hand tightens his hold on you. 

“Let’s go home,Y/N.” 

You stand in front of your home. 

It wasn't easy coming here. You had to be granted permission to leave the vicinity and it wasn’t the simplest task for Hoseok either, needing to prove the two of you would be functional to do so. You suppose you could have laced it over with a visit, but you couldn’t stay any longer, not there anymore. 

A shaky exhale leaves you and Hoseok reaches out, lacing his fingers with yours and having a comforting smile. 

You knock against the door. 

The door comes swinging wide open and you’re confronted with the sight of your son-in-law. 

Seojun stares at you blankly, as if you were a mere ghost, glancing between you and Hoseok in disbelief. 

“Nice to see you again.” You state, stepping into the household. It looks the same – the same couch, the same curtains and the same memories. It’s almost like you never left to begin with. 

“You’re back.” A voice acknowledges from the staircase, and you look up. 

Your eyes lock onto Naree’s, who stands in the long hallway, arms crossed and holding a hardened gaze. 

“You look like you’ve been well.” You reply with a smile, but her gaze is concentrated on the man standing with you. 

“Who is this?” She questions, and your eyes widen. 

Hoseok immediately steps up with a friendly smile, “My name is Jung Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Naree stares at Hoseok’s outstretched hand, not moving to shake it or say anything back. After years of raising her, you know exactly what her response means. 

She’s inspecting him, wondering why you showed up out of the blue with a man near the same age as her father. 

She doesn’t say another word, simply turning her back and walking into the kitchen. It makes you want to almost laugh, how it doesn’t take her much effort to easily disregard you at this point, so much that it doesn’t even hurt and you simply just expect it. 

Seojun glances between the two of you, clearly taken aback with the situation and unsure of how to react. 

You walk past him, heading up the staircase with Hoseok. 

“I’ll be in my room.” You declare, the door shutting behind you. 

***

All of it has been moved. 

Despite the house not changing, the people have changed, and so have the contents of the room you once shared with Namjoon. 

All of his belongings are gone, stowed away in airtight boxes. 

Like he never even existed to begin with. 

Your shaking hands reach out. “No…no, no–”

You stumble, collapsing onto the ground. 

“Y/N!” Hoseok reaches forward in an instant, steadying you. 

“Everything’s gone, Hoseok. They moved everything–”

Tears are streaming down your eyes and Hoseok is clutching onto you as you sob. 

“Shh, it’s not gone.” He coaxes, reaching out for one of the boxes. His hands are tremoring but he still claws at the tape, unraveling the plastic back and tossing it aside. The box unfolds and he shifts it over to you, wanting you to see your husband’s things first hand. 

You catch sight of one of his jacket’s.

Reaching out, you gasp onto the material, staring at it in awe. It was one Namjoon used to love to wear, tossing it on when you would ask him to go out on walks with you, or consequently the one that was placed on your shoulders when he noticed you shivering in the wake of fall. 

You wrap it around your arms, the amount of comfort from the action easing your heart a bit. 

Hoseok softly smiles, shifting over another box. He opens it to reveal a stack of books, distinctly looking similar to the one you always carried in your lap. 

“Did he like to read a lot?” He ponders, and you nod, curiously looking over his shoulder. 

It all snaps – and the excitement washes over more quickly than you can stop it. 

“He did.” You lean over, grasping onto a title, “This was one of his favorites, he used to read it all the time. And this one,” You pick up another title, “He used it for his final thesis back in college, and asked me to read it with him.” 

You chuckle, tears still streaming down your eyes. “He was always so smart, but asked me to check over everything he did.” You turn to Hoseok, who has softened eyes, “He was just an overthinker, you know? And I knew I always had to calm his mind somehow, so I would make him tea often when he was working.” 

Hoseok simply watches. Watches at how much love you pour out for your late husband, how much adoration is in your voice and the tenderness in your eyes. It’s something he’s only had the pleasure of experiencing once in life, and it’s not something he’s found easily in others. 

Namjoon is truly your soulmate.

“H-He would ask what magic I would p-put in it….all the time.” Your voice cracks at the end and Hoseok’s eyes shoot up into alarm. 

“Y/N?” He shifts closer to you. 

“I-I….” You squeeze your eyes shut, the realization donning faster than you can stop it. “I-I just can’t.”

“You can’t what?” 

“I can’t.” You gasp out. “Namjoon, he’s….he’s everywhere.” 

You can see him everywhere – in the things you hold, in the memories you’re left with, in the hopes and dreams you once had together. Your entire life had been constructed around him, and it’s something you didn’t notice until you were sitting in that very same room you shared, surrounded by his entire essence. 

It's like you’re experiencing the grief all over again, except this time it’s worse because you’ve realized what you’ve truly lost. 

Hoseok feels his own heart shattering into pieces. He can’t explain how much he knows exactly what you’re going through, how much letting go was an impossible task when you’ve had years and years, an entire timeline spent with someone after an eternal promise of forever. 

A tear streams down his own eye and he moves closer, wrapping his arms around you and leaning his head against yours. 

“H-Hoseok, I-I can’t….” You whisper, “I can’t live the rest of my life here. In only the memory of Namjoon and with a family that just doesn’t want me anymore….I-I just can’t do it.” 

Hoseok shudders, letting out a small hum as you spill all your fears out to him. 

“I-It’s okay, Y/N.” He manages to get out, “It’s okay to feel this way. I-I can’t even explain to you how normal it is to.”

– or how familiar. – he wants to say. 

You sob and he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as he cups your face. 

“What do you want, Y/N?” He earnestly questions. “What is your heart telling you?” 

“I just want to leave….and go somewhere far, far away.” Far from here. 

It almost sounds like a ridiculous fantasy, but Hoseok nods. 

“How far?” He seriously ponders, “Like can we get there by bus? Do we need to take a train?” 

The corner of your mouth curls up. 

“Maybe by train. Buses are horrible to sit on for long hours.” You note with a sniffle. 

Hoseok frowns, “You make it sound like we’re so old.” 

“We are old, Hoseok.” You chuckle and he grins at the sound of it.

“Really? Say that again for me, I didn’t hear you the first time.” He turns his head, showcasing his hearing aid. You lightly hit his chest, before resting your head against him. 

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go, Y/N.” He whispers in reassurance. 

Reaching his hand, he lifts you up, ensuring your balance is okay. You keep your hand in his, tightening your hold on him. 

***

You regain yourself, and Hoseok carefully holds onto you, taking you slowly down the stairs. He matches his steps with you, watching as your foot slowly descends down one step before planting his own down, your cane granting you the momentum. 

Naree stands by the door, arms crossed and appearing to be waiting for someone. 

Hoseok glimpses at you tenderly and you nod, alerting her attention to the sound of your cane against the ground. 

She deeply sighs, “I have time to drop you back once you’re–” 

“I’m not going back.” 

Her brows furrow “What do you mean?” 

“I’m leaving, Naree.” You declare, and that’s when her eyes snap onto yours and Hoseok’s interlaced hands. 

There’s disbelief in her eyes, “You’re leaving with him?” 

You nod and Naree shakes her head, as if her entire existence is being questioned. 

“Mom, how could you?” She spits, “It’s only been a year since Dad passed away.” 

“Naree–” 

“I know you were feeling lonely, but out of all things this?”

The door suddenly widens and Seojun emerges, two little girls by his side. 

Nayoung's eyes light up, “Grandma!”

“What’s going on?” Seojun interjects and Naree squeezes her eyes, shaking her head. 

“Oh nothing, just my mother betraying my father.” She snaps, and his eyes widen.

He pushes Nayoung and Dambi away, “Girls, go upstairs.” 

Nayoung begins to protest “But Grandma–” 

“Go.”

She doesn’t say another word, simply downcasting her gaze. Dambi follows, but you can feel their gazes linger on you, and there’s nothing more you want to do in the moment then to bring the two girls into your arms. 

“Naree, don’t do this.” You whisper, but her clenched fists are enough of an answer. 

“Don’t do what? Be upset that my mother found someone else that isn’t my father?” She huffs, “How could you do this, Mom?” 

She turns to Seojun who comforts her and you shift uncomfortably, wanting to disappear. 

“With all due respect–” A previously silent voice pitches in, “I think you’re being incredibly unfair.” 

You stare at Hoseok, who still holds a warm look in his eyes. “I’m not replacing your father, if that’s what you’re concerned about. Y/N still loves him very much, just like I do my wife.” 

“But it wouldn’t hurt to consider that your mother has been by herself for quite a while and that hurts.” Hoseok sadly smiles, “Much deeper than you could possibly imagine.” 

Naree looks at him startled and Seojun is baffled. There’s a silence that lingers and Hoseok tightens his hold on you, slowly heading towards the door. 

“It was nice meeting all of you.” He simply responds, before leaving altogether. 

There’s a multitude of words ready to tumble from you. 

“Hoseok, I–” 

“You don’t need to explain.” He insists, but then he shakes his head, as if suspended in disbelief. “I just can’t believe how they were treating you...” 

You wince, finding yourself agreeing with his words. It seemed like all your doubts, all your fears, were cemented right in front of you and now you know. 

You don’t belong there anymore.

You’re about to turn and tell Hoseok that you should collectively leave now, the desperation of going far away reaching a complete high, but that’s when your eyes catch onto movement.

“Hold on.” you quietly say, and Hoseok sends you a confused look. You carefully trudge your cane forward, slowly walking to the side of the house. 

You freeze. 

There's a silhouette of a tall man with dark hair standing by the garden, right next to the peonies and with a giant bag slung over his shoulder. His backside gives you so much whiplash at how distinctly familiar it looks and as if in a trance, you continue to move forward with furrowed brows.

You pause, the disbelief sinking in. He snaps his head around at the sound of your cane, narrowed eyes widening. 

You whisper out his name, breath coming out shaky. 

“H-Haneul?” 

You had almost forgotten just how strikingly similar he looks to Namjoon, just how much he could easily be mistaken for a younger version of the man. 

He widely smiles, expression brightening at the sight of you.

“Hi, Mom.” He takes long strides towards you, embracing you immediately. You wrap your arms around him tightly, a joyful smile on your lips.

You separate from him, attempting to get a good look at your son. “I-I can’t believe you’re here…” 

He warmly grins, eyes flickering over to Hoseok. You immediately turn, a bit flustered. 

“T-This is–” 

“Jung Hoseok.” Hoseok outstretches his hand with a smile. 

“Kim Haneul.” He states, shaking his hand with a similar smile. He gestures to you. “I’m her oldest.” 

Hoseok nods understandably, “It’s nice to meet you, Hoseok.” 

He grins and you’re a bit taken aback at Hanuel's gesture, naturally giving back the same courtesy that was given back to him. 

He hasn’t changed one bit. 

“Could we talk?” He mentions, gesturing between you. You nod immediately and Hoseok politely smiles, stepping towards the front to give you some privacy. 

Haneul holds your hand as you slowly walk, guiding you onto the bench in the backyard. He waits as you sit down, taking a spot by you. 

As glad as you are to see him, you’re curious.

“How are you here, Haneul?” 

“I came by to visit.” He explains, “I managed to get a couple of days off.” 

You nod, “Naree… she told me you were in an old age home.” 

“I see….” You fall into silence and Haneul quietly watches you from the corner of his eyes.

“Was it your choice?”

“At first, it was.” You exhale, “But then Naree never came for me, and when she did, she wanted me to stay–” Your words grow smaller, “And now, I just can’t go back anymore….”

Haneul lifts his hand, placing it on top of your wrinkled one as you heave, eyes getting glossy.

“His name is Hoseok.” You sputter out, wanting to rid him of any worries, “We met at the care home and got closer. I feel better with him around, and he understands me, but I’m not trying to replace your father in the least–”

“Hey, hey.” He softly says, “Who said anything about replacing Dad?” 

“Naree did… and I don’t blame her.” 

Her words have you thinking twice, wondering if everything you were doing was just wrong. 

Haneul frowns, “Mom, Naree’s husband isn’t dead.” 

“Don’t say such things, Haneul.” You chide. 

“Mom, listen to me.” He fully turns to you, taking your worn out hands in his stronger ones. “Dad’s gone, and you’re all by yourself now. You don’t owe anyone anything, especially not at this age.” 

He knowingly grins, “What was the advice you had given to me before I left?” 

The memory is still crystal clear to you. “That life was too short…and that you should be living your own, without fretting over the family.” 

“And you told me this after Dad’s passing.” He persists, “Why can’t you give yourself the same consideration?” 

You slowly nod, taking in his words. “You’re right…”

But then an amused chuckle leaves you and his eyes widen. 

“You know, you sound so much like your father that it’s actually terrifying….” 

He looks amused, “Well, he was one heck of a wise man.” 

He laughs and so do you, feeling your chest grow a bit lighter.

Haneul exhales, something in his gaze abruptly changing. 

“Mom, you’ve gotten older. The last time I saw you, you weren’t this weak.” He admits, “I just really want you to leave while you’re still able to.” 

You look up at him, water welling up in your eyes. There’s an unsaid message sent between both of your eyes, one that you unfortunately understand very well. 

This very well may be the last time you see him. 

You advance forward, wrapping your shaking hands around his shoulders. He leans down, holding onto you in a loving embrace. 

It makes you wonder where time went, where the boy that was running around the house with giggles and helping his dad with fixing the shed went, becoming a fully fledged adult who you could express your deepest concerns to, and lean on as you grew brittle. 

***

Haneul walks you back to the front, exchanging a smile with Hoseok who had been patiently waiting for you. He reaches his arm out and you hold onto it. 

Haneul enters the house again, insisting to bring the bags you had packed. You discuss with Hoseok about your plans moving forward, but the door comes bursting open. 

Two young girls come forth, tears in their eyes.

“Grandma!” 

Nayoung launches herself at you, embracing you immediately. Dambi is behind her, eyes flickering all over your form. 

A small chuckle leaves you and Hoseok smiles at the interaction, watching at how you comfortingly rub their backs as they sob into your floral dress. 

“U-Uncle Haneul says you’re leaving…” Dambi mumbles out. 

A sigh slips out from you and Haneul emerges with remorse on his face, appearing like he attempted to keep it a secret but couldn’t to no avail. 

“I am leaving.” You’re completely honest with them. “I know it’s hard, and I’ll miss the two of you greatly, but I….I need to go.” 

Nayoung and Dambi look at you thoughtfully, nodding their heads, “And I won’t be alone either.” 

You turn to Hoseok who smiles, causing both of the girls to be captivated with his appearance. 

“Will you be looking after Grandma?” Nayoung wonders and he softly nods, a certain fondness in his eyes you haven’t seen before. 

“I will be.” He says, “Someone has to remind her not to be so stubborn.” 

You exasperatedly shake your head with a chuckle as Hoseok grins, but Nayoung moves closer to you, a dimpled smile on her lips. 

“I’ll miss you, Grandma.” She whispers, hugging you. “Please be happy.” 

You’re astonished at her words, wondering just how obvious you had been. You know the saying that children have a tendency to see everything and there’s something that shines in Nayoung’s eyes that makes you sniffle, hugging the girl tightly in your arms. 

Hoseok helps you with your cane and you clutch onto him, afraid that a part of you will never want to leave if you didn’t. You watch as the two girls wave their hands at you, huge smiles on their lips. Haneul stands by the door, leaning against it with a grin. 

You wave back at them, even noticing Naree by the window, sticking her eyes out despite her crossed arms. You want to chuckle, amused how obvious your daughter could be at times. 

Taking one look back, you see all that you’ve built with Namjoon. Your house, your children, your grand-children, the years and years of your lifetime all showcased within your field of vision. You smile, wondering if the man was still alive, how he probably would have been standing alongside them, ushering you to be on your way already. 

Turning around, Hoseok holds onto your bags, a smile on his lips. 

You take his hand with your own.

The next couple of days are a bit of a blur for you. You find out Hoseok had booked a train for you into the nearby city, one that wasn’t luckily drawn out for too many hours. He calls a cab to pick you up and you’re soon in front of train tracks as he holds you, slowly helping you on. 

You spend the rest of the duration looking out, watching at how buildings, greenery and the life you once knew whizzes by. It makes you wonder when the last time was when you’ve done something like this, recalling the last trip you ever took was with Namjoon and years before the two of you had started finding it difficult to do. 

You arrive after a couple of hours, your joints aching a bit which prompts Hoseok to seat you down onto a bench, attempting to find a water bottle for you to drink. It amuses you a bit to see others glancing at you, seeing a much older couple traveling together rather than a youthful one. Instead of energy and fresh eyes, they see peacefulness and serene ones, and it all the more makes you want to smile once more, no longer feeling like you were being trapped or held back somewhere. 

You arrive at a small residence that Hoseok took care of.

He turns to put the bags away and you clasp onto his wrist. “Hoseok.” 

He glances at you and you sincerely look at him. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.”He warmly smiles. 

“What should we do now?” You ponder, “Everything I said was completely on a whim, but I still don’t know–” 

“Hey.” He softly calls out, slipping next to you and placing a hand on your own. “Don’t stress too much about it. I’ve booked us this place here to stay for the week, and you can take your time before officially deciding where to go.” 

You stare at him in surprise, feeling so grateful that he is here with you. 

“Okay.” You quietly say and he gets up with a grin, moving to unpack a bag. 

That night, you lay awake on a bed adjacent to Hoseok. He doesn’t sleep next to you, but still remains in the room, the sound of his soft breathing echoing off the walls. 

Your mind is brimming with endless possibilities, and for the first time ever, you fall asleep with a smile on your lips. 

You desire a home. 

A home. A place of comfort – a place that welcomes you with open arms and loosens the tightness in your chest, a place that allows you to breathe easier and fills you with warmth, a place full of solace, one which soothes your aching heart. 

It’s not much, a small house out by the fields and close to a meadow, far out from the city and next to an expansive lake. The wind ever so breezes over the numerous flowers collecting in the open fields and the sun is always shining over, reflecting over the pools of water. You have your occasional neighbors, mainly families that harbor residences nearby to spend their idle time. It’s always interesting when they run into you, assuming an entire family to be inside only to find an elderly lady smiling back at them. 

It was something you didn’t get instantaneously, searching around for the exact spot you wanted. In a way, you still thank your late husband for always advising you to keep money on the side, indicating that you would need it one day for when he was gone and you would always chide him not to bring the bad thoughts into mention. It led you to a place you would have never in a million years thought you would have ended up at, and never with the amount of pure joy it’s brought. 

You desire a home, and somehow, just somehow, you find one in Jung Hoseok.

He takes you everywhere you desire, whether it is walking down the borders of the lake, to watching the skyline of the far city. He’s always two steps ahead of you, picking up your cane when it stumbles and interlacing his hands with you, letting you lean your weight against him. He assists you with your gardening and sets up two rocking chairs outside of the cabin, sitting down for hours with you as you read. 

He’ll joke that his legs are getting too shaky when he walks with you, or that the tremors in his hands are always at a constant beat. He’ll smile with fine lines marring his forehead and the creases of his eyes when you chide him, just as he insists that he has no reason for his constant remarks around you. He’ll look at you tenderly, watching as every word spills out of you, even after you recall an eternity of memories with someone else. 

There comes a point where your small thank you’s disappear altogether, and you clasp onto his hand instead. 

“It’s so beautiful.” You whisper, watching the rays of the sun descend, catching a warm hue of orange all over the meadow. It transcends over the horizon, illuminating the delicate lines on your face and specks of your irises. 

Hoseok hums next to you on the bench, your arm around his. He watches as the sun slowly dips into the horizon, the orange submerging before a cool blue takes over. 

“It is.” He murmurs, “Kinda makes you think how small you really are.” 

You let out a soft laugh and he grins in your direction. 

“You always have such a way with words.” You remarks. 

“Well, I think it’s one of my best qualities.” He retorts, “Aside from knitting, of course.” 

You shake your head as he chuckles. The sun completely disappears and he glances at you. 

“Say, how about we head in and I brew us some hot tea?” He suggests, slipping his warm hands within your cold ones. 

You stare at him for a second, expression impassible. Hoseok frowns, a deep crease forming between his brows.

“Y/N?” He ponders at your silence. 

“I’m so lucky to have met you.” 

Hoseok blinks, but the words tumble out much faster than you can stop. 

“I was so, so alone, and absolutely terrified that the rest of my life would be like that.” Water surfaces in your eyes, “But then I met you and I never realized how much I missed this feeling of…being alive.”

A bright smile stretches on your cheeks, “I’m so happy, Hoseok.” 

You don’t have a chance to swipe away your tears, his arms coming to encase around you in an instant. A gasp leaves you, but Hoseok tightens his hold and you lean against him, arms slipping around his back. 

“Y-You don’t understand…” He whispers, voice cracking that makes you stiff with alarm. “You don’t understand how much I feel the same way.” 

He separates from you, irises glossed over. It’s a look you’ve noticed before in his eyes, a look that speaks volumes compared to his usual warm and cheerful disposition, a look that even terrifies you to a certain extent, encased within anguish and longing. 

You wonder if it’s the same look he had been seeing in you the first day he met you. 

***

You’re seated on Hoseok’s bed, watching him filter through his cabinet. 

You’ve been here a handful of times, mostly nights where you weren’t able to sleep and he sat by your side until you did. Or moments where you would ponder about him, coming by to say good morning or wondering if he had eaten already. 

However, you’ve never been here in the wake of the night, watching him open up his belongings with an unwavering gaze in his orbs.

He halts after a couple of seconds, treading slowly towards you before planting himself beside you on the bed. 

Sharply inhaling, he hands you the photograph in his hands. 

A young woman immediately flashes before your eyes, a kind upturn to her eyes and a warm smile on her lips. She appears to be within her late twenties, curly locks falling to her shoulders and dressed in a bright orange dress. 

Even through the lack of light, you don’t fail to miss the ring that sits on the third finger of her left hand. 

“Jung Euna.” Hoseok somberly confirms, “My deceased wife.” 

Your eyes widen instantly. 

Aside from the first time you were alerted of her presence, Hoseok has never spoken about her. You had never questioned him either, knowing better than anybody else the sheer grief that came with losing your sprouse. 

And in a way, a part of you always knew, being painfully aware of it since the moment you’ve met the man. 

His warm smile has always seemed to carry the weight of the world. 

“She was really pretty.” You add with a smile, peering up to see tenderness in Hoseok’s expression. 

“She was.” He hums, “I had actually liked her since high school, but I was always too nervous around her to confess my feelings.” 

You nod, and he continues. “But then one day, I was working at a department store and she walked in. Recognized me within seconds.” 

“–I knew I couldn’t let the chance slip away from me again, so I asked her out. To my surprise, she agreed right away, as if she had been waiting for me to ask.” 

He beams, “She was stubborn, but very loving. Not a day goes by without me thinking about her.” 

Your brows lift, wondering if this is how you sounded when you talked about Namjoon. If you held so much love in your eyes, so much nostalgia in every word you spoke, so much sparks of joy in your expression. 

“We…we never had kids.” He brings up, as if he knew what you were wondering. “Rather…we couldn’t have kids.” 

Shock crosses your features and Hoseok grimly smiles, “Euna…she had a miscarriage. And then we found out she couldn’t have kids anymore, and it was devastating.” He sighs, recalling the memory like it was yesterday, “We fought, a lot. She kept telling me to divorce her, or to find someone else, because she knew how much I wanted to be a dad and have kids of my own.” 

“But you see, I’m just as stubborn as my wife. I told her I wasn’t going anywhere and that it didn’t matter at the end of the day. That I didn’t vow to be with her in sickness and health at the altar for no reason, and that my desire to be with her was stronger than she thought.” 

“Euna cried a lot. She would always cry in moments like this, not realizing how clear it was that she was suffering. So, I stayed with her and we were together for years, until her death.” 

You let out the breath you hadn’t known you had been holding, “C-Can I ask….” 

A small smile curls on his lips. “Of course you can.” 

You dart your gaze at the photo, knowing this isn’t easy to talk about. “Euna…how did she…?” 

Hoseok harshly swallows, all his wounds reopening before him. “She got diagnosed with stomach cancer. We luckily caught it right away, but Euna…she got sick, very quickly. It soon turned into going back and forth into the hospital, getting treatments and scheduling surgeries, and she got better. She looked so healthy, even started smiling again and–” 

Hoseok shudders, raising a hand against his eyes. You shift closer, wrapping an arm around him as his body trembles, sobs escaping him. 

“Hoseok…” You whisper and he glances up, agony pouring out from him. 

“S-She was better, Y/N.” He chokes out. “I thought it was all real. I thought I could take her out of there, bring her back home and everything would snap back into place again, but then it s-spread…” 

You hug him tighter, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“She was gone...” You complete, “…in the blink of an eye, like she never existed to begin with.” 

Hoseok doesn’t respond, still within your arms and he knows he doesn’t need to. Not when you understand his pain so well, not when his feelings mimic yours, not when the gap in his heart that his wife left is so similar to your own, feelings of loneliness dispersing everywhere. 

That night, you lie down next to Hoseok. 

Your head rests against his chest as his breaths even out, his hand clasped onto yours. The tears have long dried but the anguish is still there, a deep furrow to his brows as he sleeps. 

Peering upward, a soft smile lingers on your lips at the photograph he holds close to his heart. 

You lean down, handing Hoseok a warm cup of tea. 

His hands reach out in an instant, a kind smile on his features. 

“Thank you.” You return it, before sitting yourself down on a chair opposite to him with your own cup. 

It had been roughly a week since that night, and Hoseok looks brighter, almost more optimistic, if it were even possible. You weren’t sure after the second night passed, his eyes remaining swollen and a somber aura surrounding the man. You hadn’t left him alone for a split second, even as he continuously insisted he was alright, accompanying him on morning walks and holding onto his cold hand. 

Hoseok had chuckled when you pushed him over, sliding into the opposite end of the bed and draping an arm around him. He smiles gently when you rest your head against his chest, listening to his slow heartbeat. His eyes turn tender when you dreamingly question about Euna, curious about her likes and dislikes, the way she spoke or the way she laughed, using him as your source to an individual you’ve never met, but feel like you know everything about. 

And he does the same for you, asking for you to show him a picture of Namjoon one day. You pluck onto an album you had kept safely stored away, one Hoseok already knew was yours from how tidy it was kept and it was always situated next to your books, the very ones Namjoon would read. 

Hoseok sees everything. Pictures of you and Namjoon smiling, much younger and with so much excitement dwelling in your eyes. Photographs of a new ring settled on your finger, bursting with so much happiness. Photographs of you crying, holding your nearly born son in your arms. 

Hoseok sees your entire lifetime before his eyes, peeking at a question that has your eyes sparkling.

“Do you think we could have met?” He glances at the photograph of you in dark robes, a wide grin on your lips as you hold your college degree. “Like bumped shoulders at one point?” 

“I don’t know.” You truthfully confess. You had lived such different lives, never once bumping into the man. It makes you wonder if you would have ever met him, having not gone to the old age home. 

“We’re what? Five years apart?” He marvels, deep in thought, “What if you were revisiting college? And you just happened to stumble into me, freshly into college?” 

You fondly smile at the sentiment. You can imagine it so clearly – a younger Hoseok, appearing curious with his surroundings as he glanced around, attempting to locate his classes. You, a couple years older, coming back to meet with one of your professors. 

“You would be lost.” You state, playing into his fantasy. “I bet you would try to ask everyone around you for directions…” 

“–until I encountered you, your confidence taking me away.” 

You laugh, smile stretching. “I would wonder why you would be asking someone like me–” 

“Someone who would be too stubborn to say no.” He grins and the image flashes before you can help it. 

“E-Excuse me?” The man mumbles, appearing to be in his early twenties. “I’m supposed to go to the Art building, but I’m not sure which way that is.” 

You turn in surprise, not having expected to be approached. In fact, your gaze was concentrated forward, attached to the office before you. 

“O-Oh.” You’re caught off guard. His eyes are flickering everywhere and you muse he could really use the help. “Of course, it’s the black building just down on the right.” 

“Thanks.” He kindly smiles, and turns in the direction of your instructions. 

You widely grin, “It wouldn’t have been anything big. Just a couple of words exchanged.” 

Hoseok halts, swiveling with wide eyes. 

“Sorry, did you say something?” He ponders, and you softly shake your head. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You mutter, “I do hope you find your class, Hoseok.” 

He nods, peering at you in confusion. You watch as he departs, whispering underneath your breath. 

“See you in a couple of years.” 

Hoseok is leaning back in his chair, a soft smile on his lips. 

“A tad unrealistic?” You were amused that he let you stray so far off, not halting the train of thoughts coming to you. 

“A bit,” He chuckles, “but I didn’t want you to stop.”

You share a knowing look, holding onto your tea cups. 

A soft knock resonates against the door. 

Hoseok gets up first, gesturing for you to continue drinking your tea. You watch as he slowly pads over to the door, revealing a woman standing with a young girl before your eyes. 

You recognize them immediately as a family that lived nearby, noticing them frequenting one of the homes during the summer. 

The young girl looks to be roughly seven to eight years old, eyes flickering around and hands fidgeting. At the sight of her mother eyeing her, she speaks up. 

 “Um…m-my ball. It went into your garden.” 

Hoseok softly smiles, leaning down to gently pat her head. 

“Let’s go retrieve it, shall we?” He implores, and the little girl follows behind, slowing her pace to keep up with his steps. 

You walk outside to the garden, standing next to her mother. Fondness spreads through you as Hoseok looks around with the girl, a tenderness to his eyes that has you smiling as he gives the ball back to you. 

Her mother draws your attention. “I’m so sorry about this, I didn’t think it would end up here.” 

“It’s quite alright.” You reassure, “Hoseok doesn���t mind either.” 

“I’ve seen you around a couple of times.” She inquires, “Did you come here recently?” 

You nod, “I wanted to move away from the city.”

She hums understandably, “That’s nice. Both you and your husband seem very loving.” 

Your eyes flicker. It had been so long since you had heard such a statement, long having buried it with Namjoon when he passed. 

“He’s not my husband…” You correct, and the woman’s eyes widen, like she hasn’t been expecting that response from you. 

You pursue your lips. You truthfully, never had an answer. Not when Naree had accused you of replacing Namjoon, not when you would encounter the other neighbors and they would inquire about you, not when there was no envy on either one of your parts when Namjoon or Euna were mentioned, just understanding of the deep love you both still hold onto to. 

Namjoon is your husband. He will always be, keeping a special place in your heart that no one else can ever fully take or replace. 

Hoseok is your radiant sun. 

His smile is comforting. His arms are warm. His presence feels so reassuring and makes you feel less lonely in this world that only has you left behind. 

He's your solace – the embodiment of your pain and understanding at the same time. 

“Hoseok…” You whisper, “He’s…he’s my partner.”

Through the thick and thin, through the laughs and the tears, through the comforting embraces and the anguished recollections. You are glad to have met him, to have experienced these new memories with him, and to have created a new path, one in which you will spend the rest of your life in together. 

Hoseok glances up with a grin, the little girl holding her ball and giggling at something he said. His eyes lock on yours and it’s almost like he knows, he knows what is dwelling inside them. 

He’ll always be your partner for eternity. 

Time is the most valuable thing to exist in the world. 

It can be a matter of a mere seconds, spinning away like loose strands without any control. It could be a matter of a few years, spanning across months at a subdued pace. 

Time is so very valuable, and you’re grateful to have spent it with Jung Hoseok. 

“Hoseok….” 

It’s your voice, weakly calling out to him. He’s by your side within a matter of seconds. 

“Y/N.” He whispers, a smile spanning on his lips with many lines creasing. 

He’s gotten much older, the dark strands of hair turning completely gray, a deep hunch caving in his back more. He wears hearing aids on both ears, enough to still hear your low murmurs from your bed. His eyes have gotten weaker, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his long nose. 

He still looks like the man you’ve spent so many years with. 

And what years they were. You had basked in each other’s presence, being so utterly peaceful with him staying by your side. You weren’t lonely, you weren’t numb, you weren’t terrified anymore, you were simply content. 

Even when your legs had started losing their ability. Even when your memory began to fade, panic settling in on not being able to recall anymore. Even when your skin paled with time and you had become bed ridden. 

Hoseok held onto you. Hoseok reminded you, pulling out albums for you to see. Hoseok lied down with you, letting you rest your head against his chest. He coaxes and consoles you, keeping you in one piece even though the years were threatening to crumble you. 

Even as he watches your chest slowly heave, voice growing weaker by the minute. 

“Hoseok…” You croak. He’s leaning in right away, despite having machinery that allows him to hear. “T-Thank you…Hoseok….” 

He chuckles, eyes glossed over. So many years had passed and you still had the need to express your gratitude 

“I should be thanking you.” He brings up, “Thank you, Kim Y/N. For all these beautiful years.” He whispers, as if singing you a comforting lullaby “For letting me into your life and staying by your side.” 

His voice cracks, but he still smiles.

“F-For letting this old man be your partner, for the rest of the time you had left.” 

You slowly smile, and he squeezes your hand, like he knows you feel the same way. 

“Hoseok….” You heave out, “I-I’m…I’m a little scared…” 

“I’m here, Y/N. I’m here.” He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours and shaking in your grasp.

“I-I wanted to go….” You croak, “For so long….I-I wanted to see him….” 

A low chuckle escapes you, “But not anymore.... strange, isn’t it….?” 

Hoseok is sobbing, shudders escaping through his body. His hand is clasped around yours, eyes filled with water 

But he keeps them open, wanting to encapsulate your last image into them. 

“You’ll be okay.” He chokes out. 

A warm smile graces your lips. It’s the most content he’s ever seen you, and it makes the center of his chest ache infinitely. 

A moment of silence passes as Hoseok recollects himself, leaning back to gaze at you. 

He calls out for you. 

“Y/N?” 

Your lips barely move, the shallow breaths leaving you all too soon. But you keep your gaze concentrated on him, letting him know you are still listening. 

A tear manages to slip from Hoseok’s eyes, but he still smiles, like he always does. 

“Say hi to your husband for me.” He whispers. 

It’s the last thing you hear before a brightness filling your eyes, his hold on you being the strongest it’s ever been. It rushes in, pulling you away like a tide. 

Your hand slips through his hold, and your eyes shut forever.

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Little Touch of Heaven [Teaser]

Pairing: physician!Yunho x herbalist!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Summary: Dedicating his life to his work, Yunho had never bothered to entertain the idea of settling down. Despite encountering many charming women throughout his career, none had sparked his desire for companionship. But everything shifted when he met a certain herbalist whose medicinal knowledge seemed to surpass even his own. What began as mere intrigue might have gradually developed into affection.

A/N: Special thanks to the sweet @sundaybossanova for coming up with the main concept of Yunho's spinoff.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 1

"Mr. Ryu, I'm afraid I'll need all your raspberry and peppermint leaf supply for the day. Lady Park hasn't been doing too well in the early stages of her pregnancy," the physician announced upon entering the apothecary where he regularly obtained his medicines and herbs, his eyes busily scanning around for anything else that could be useful.

"Is that so? You might want to consider our latest batch of Codonopsis root imported directly from China just a week ago. It's highly effective in boosting vital energy and reducing fatigue during pregnancy."

Yunho's head shot up in surprise.

First of all, why hadn't he thought of that before? More importantly, the feminine voice addressing him sounded nothing like the elderly man who usually managed the store. He turned to find a young woman behind the counter, his eyes widening in astonishment.

"O-oh, um... hello there. I didn't realise Mr. Ryu had such a young wife," he blurted out before cursing himself, feeling embarrassed for making such a hasty assumption.

Your face immediately twisted in disgust, "Goodness gracious, you're severely mistaken! I'm his daughter!"

Way to go, you complete idiot!

This is probably gonna be the least angsty one out of all the spinoffs hehe but y'all know how I am, the climax might get a little exciting🙈 As always, I'm excited to hear your thoughts on the concept!

Tag list (1/8): Tumblr is a bitch and won't let me mention more than 5 users in a single sentence, so now my tag list looks like a complete joke🤡

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs |

@the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline @green-agent |

@stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive @vantediary |

@superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho @vic0921 |

@marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid @sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @pay13 |

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@shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories @anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 |

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[pt2change]

airplane mode on — kim taehyung

[gif source]

pairing: single dad! taehyung x reader

genre: taehyung is a girl dad :), just the typical “we’re on a flight and the attendants think we’re a couple” au

word count: 1,882

↣ bts masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

it’s early morning when you first spot the blonde haired man while you’re waiting for your boarding group to be called. in fact, it’s wayyy too early, because this man is nodding off in his sleep.

he sits with one hand on his suitcase and the other loosely wrapped around his light brown backpack.

the little girl next to him, however, is completely awake. she’s running circles around the aisles of chairs in the boarding area. the little girl only stops when she has to maneuver her way through the other suitcases and the legs of the other awaiting passengers.

and with every step she makes, she mutters a soft “excuse me.” after the little girl makes her 5th lap around the waiting area, she stops to where the man is sitting, giving her attention to the planes rolling by.

she stands close to the window with wide eyes, she pushes her face and hands against the glass. and every time she moved her hands, it would leave behind a stain on the glass.

suddenly, the blonde haired man jerks his head up and looks around frantically. “nari!” he says, before sitting up when he realizes he lost sight of her, “nari!” he says once again, only louder.

you decide to lean forward slightly and wave your hand in front of you to hopefully get his attention. it ends up working, and his eyes meet yours, that’s when you point to the window behind him.

he turns back and sighs in relief, he rubs his eyes multiple times. “shit!” you hear him whisper, before he leans back and runs his hand through his hair.

he suddenly leans forward, and nods his head and smiles at you as a way of saying thank you.

you smile back, before turning your attention to your phone.

“come here, sweetie” you hear the man tell, who you can now assume, is his daughter. the little girl makes her way over to him, scrambling to sit on his lap.

“daddy, do you see the plane?” she says excitedly, pointing at the plane. “yeah, i see them.” he says turning his head back.

the little girl uses her two hands to bring her dad’s face back to face her own and squishes his cheeks together, “i want to get on the plane!”

“in a little bit.” he replies before reaching into the brown backpack, pulling out a sandwich bag filled with goldfish, “do you want a snack? or something to drink?”

“no! let’s go on the plane!” the little girl exclaims loudly, and the man nods his head, “i know you do. we will get on soon.”

you can’t help but smile to yourself, listening to their interaction. minutes go by, and you look up from your phone, only to see the dad dozing off again while the little girl squirms in his lap.

at this point, you feel bad for the blonde haired man. it’s obvious that he’s exhausted and needs to rest. it crosses your mind to go up to him and tell him that you’ll keep an eye on his daughter while you wait to board the plane.

before you could think on it, the flight attendants announce that the plan has now started boarding.

the little girl shrieks in excitement and begins to jump up and down while her dad swings the backpack over his shoulder, and grabs the suitcase and his daughter’s small hand.

“nari, calm down.” he says in a calm voice, “hey,” he says again as she stops jumping, “i want you to behave on the plane, okay?”

she nods in response, and he leans down to give her a kiss on her head. you watch as they make their way to get in line.

they announce family boarding first, and you watch as the father-daughter duo make their way over to get their tickets scanned. you can’t help but smile thinking about how cute and happy they are.

you wait for the boarding line to go down, before grabbing your own belongings and head over to board the plane.

your plane seat had been in the back, it was a middle seat between two elderly women. it also happened to be the seat behind the father and daughter you saw interacting earlier.

you stick your backpack underneath your seat and take your airpods out and put them on in hopes that it helps you stay calm.

you zone out during the safety talk and begin to doze off. however, it doesn’t last long because the engines roaring and the vibrations from take off keep you wide awake.

you take a deep sigh, and reach towards the small screen in front of you in hopes to find a decent movie or tv show. as your touching the screen, you notice a brown eye looking at you from between the seats in front of you.

you’re not entirely sure how nari got out from her seat where she was buckled, but there she was.

you take out one of your airpods, expecting to hear her dad tell her something but it seems like he’s asleep.

so you smile and wave at the little girl in front of you. you watch as the little girl’s smile gets bigger, then you notice she climbs onto the armrest and half her body is now over the top of the seat.

she sticks out her tiny hand, and you bring your hand up to hers, and her tiny hand wraps around your index finger. you shake your hand up and down, which causes her to giggle. you do it a few more times, and for some reason it excites her.

so much so, that she begins to climb over her dad, and looks like she wants to attempt to jump over the seats.

“no, be careful” you say to her, reaching out to nudge her back down.

just as you do, her dad wakes up and brings nari back to her seat. he turns around and faces you.

he look is so intense, and it turns your thoughts into stutters, “s-sorry, she was just trying to climb over” you tell him.

he nods in response and looks over to his daughter, “were you bothering her? hmm?”

it takes you a second to realize he’s talking to nari and not to you. nari looks at you and then back at her dad before shaking her head profusely.

“no? are you sure?” her dad asks her once more, but you lean forward “she really wasn’t.”

the dad faces you again and nods, giving you a smile before turning his attention back to his daughter.

you lean back and put one of your airpods away before opening your phone to switch to a different playlist.

out of the corner of your eye, you see the guy leaning down rummaging through the same brown bag you had seen earlier.

he’s mumbling to nari about something, but she’s gone back to looking at you through between the seats, and you smile back at her as you relax back into your seat.

“here you go, sweetie” the man says before handing her 2 relatively small bear plushies.

your attention is back onto your phone until you suddenly see a purple bear plushie squeeze between the two seats, and you giggle, “oh? is this for me?” leaning forward you grab the plushie from nari.

“oh my god nari” her dad says, and you see the side of his face, and you would think that he’s blushing from embarrassment.

you see nari’s head nod up and down, “thank you” you say as you smile towards her.

“can i get you guys anything?” you jump slightly, as the flight attendants gestures toward the cart she’s been pushing down the aisle.

“oh, i’ll take a water please” you say as she hands you the water. “and for your little girl? we have apple and orange j-”

“oh we’re not together-“ you say at the same time with nari’s dad, cutting off the flight attendant. “oh! oh my god, i’m so sorry.” the flight attendant responds, looking flustered, “i saw you guys playing together, and just assumed.”

you both laugh awkwardly, “don’t worry, it’s fine” you say, as you can feel your cheeks heating up.

now you’re the one blushing, and it feels embarrassing. and you’re stuck holding a plushie that at some point was definitely touched my toddler spit. so that’s nice.

nari’s dad clears his throat, “i’ll take an apple juice” the flight attendant nods and hands the apple juice before moving to the next row of people.

you fidget with the small plushie as you listen to how he explains to her to hold it correctly so it doesn’t spill all over her clothes.

“uh,” you start awkwardly, “do you want this back or?” you lean forward once again and wedge the bear in between their two seats. you aren’t sure if either one is listening because nari is drinking her apple juice and her dad is watching her.

after a few seconds, her dad speaks, “what do you think nari? is it a gift for her or do you want the bear back?” and you can hear a smile in his voice.

“gifts?!” nari exclaims excitedly, her dad lets out a quiet “oh no” and brings his hand to his face.

so it seems like nari zoned out and all she gathered from her father was the word ‘gifts.’

you chuckle, “yeah i wouldn’t bring up anything like that unless her birthday or christmas is coming up. i learned the hard way with my niece and nephew.”

her dad turns to face you, grabbing the plushie out from your grasp, and hands it back to nari. “yeah, well. it’s better than having to hear about-“ he pauses, gathering his thoughts, “the one in october where you get c-a-n-d-y. she wouldn’t stop asking about it everyday for weeks.”

you laugh softly, “my nephew was spider-man last year, and oh my god! he asked to put the outfit on everyday. it went through so many washer loads and-”

“sorry,” the woman next to nari and her dad cuts in, removing her headphones, “do you guys want to sit together or something? because i‘d be more than glad to switch seats. no one wants to split up a family, especially when they’re traveling.”

you blink profusely at the woman, before looking over at nari’s dad, who’s having the same reaction you are. “yes, please” he says.

i mean, it’s probably easier to switch than having to explain your situation again.

the woman stands up with her tote bag from her seat, and you swiftly move over to the row in front of you, taking the aisle seat. as you settle in, your arm is brushed against the arm of nari’s dad.

he leans over to you, and you can feel his breath against your neck, and you can definitely feel your cheeks heating up, “i’m taehyung, okay? you know, in case they ask for our marriage license.”

you laugh and feel your heart rate rising instantly with how close he is, “i’m y/n.” and taehyung smiles in response.

“y/n!” nari exclaims, and she starts shaking the teddy bear plushies in her hands.

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.1

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

age 25 // 1st year - assistant physician

16th August

Barcelona, Spain

"This is a terrible idea," Yoongi mumbled into his palm that was propping up his chin. Side-eyeing Jimin from his seat in the backseat. "They'll blow it."

"They won't, have a little trust," Jimin argued with a whine. Only earning an unconvinced raised brow from the older guy though.

"Why would I trust these guys I don't know?"

"You know and trust me, don't you?"

And Jimin's grin only widened as Yoongi found himself huffing, unable to object. The younger one taking it as a victory.

His glance then falling to Taehyung on the passenger's seat beside him who had been rather quiet the whole drive there to the docks.

"Yoongi might be right," he eventually spoke up then. It wasn't like Taehyung was too keen to disagreeing with Jimin, but Yoongi had a point.

Much to the master thief's dismay.

"Oh no, not you, too.." Jimin's voice faded, however, when seeing someone entering the warehouse then, catching his attention instead. And he hastily swung the car door open. "Ok, do what you want. I'm going in now!" he announced in a sing-song voice.

Causing the other two to groan in comical unison.

Obviously they wouldn't let him go there alone.

"Wait for us!"

»»»

"Take the vital signs from the patient in room 102, schedule an MRT appointment for room 106 -"

Cassandra was scribbling everything down on her clipboard as she followed one of the third-year's, Dr Moreno, down the hallways, almost bumping into a nurse who was helping an elderly patient going back to his room.

"Oh, and don't forget to get Mrs Oliviera's blood results before the laboratory guys leave."

The older physician came to an halt then, blowing off some of her loose strands, which tended falling in front of her eyes. Her gaze catching something in the distance then before glancing down to the shorter Cassandra, who was too busy noting the latest task down to notice her sudden unsettled demeanor and lightly bumped into her.

"Uhm, anyway, if you're done you can check out if they need help at ER. Heard they got lots going on there this weekend. And if there's any problem, page me. Alright?"

Cassandra quickly looked up and nodded, seeing the tall brunette flashing her a quick smile before stomping away to the direction of the cause of her distress. And Cassandra caught the glimpse of Dr Ramirez, another third-year, walking through the corridors.

"Huh, of course what else," she almost snickered to herself when remembering she might get overheard and instead pursed her lips.

She passed by the nurse station where her colleague and fellow first-year Stella was peeking over the desk with wiggling brows, sending Cassandra a curious look then. Always up for some good gossip.

"What's up with her today?"

Cassandra sighed, letting her gaze wander to where her supervisor and her ex-boyfriend had disappeared to. She had only been there for three months so far, but things like that quickly made rounds among first-years.

"No clue, I am guessing he got on her nerves again."

"As always."

One of the older nurses and someone you wouldn't want to get on bad terms with, rolled in her chair towards them with a knowing look. "Rumors has it the two have a bet going on."

Cassandra was about to ask further, her own curiosity often getting the best of her, when recalling all the tasks her supervisor assigned her to after the daily round. So she excused herself and hurriedly made her way to room 102 first.

First year was hard for most rookies. It apparently got better after entering the second year, but she dared to doubt that until proven wrong.

The daily round every morning was like a quiz show with the chief physician acting as the quiz master and cracking up bemused, knowing all rookies were scared of him.

Then followed the routine tasks and examinations, with an emergency here and there in between.

The intensive care unit was no joke, even if not all of Dr Moreno's patients - who essentially were also Cassandra's, Stella's and the other two rookies' in their team - were in the intensive unit, sometimes they did end up there. And that did take a toll on her, because intensive care usually meant critical conditions.

It wasn't like her intern days anymore - which only lasted three to four months straight - where she mainly assisted in easy routine tasks. This was the real deal now, even if as a rookie she still beared zero responsibilities. The attending physicians would have to face the consequences for a mistake, but that didn't lift the weight off Cassandra's shoulders. Not one bit.

Thankfully, she hadn't made a mistake so far. Yet. Sure, patients had died, but not out of a mistake from her side. Yet.

As one of the other senior physicians had pointed out in one of his very motivational speechess: sooner or later all of them would make a mistake.

His words haunting her ever since, even if he'd later argued that it shouldn't let them weigh down. Being afraid could be a good thing. It'd prevent them from becoming sloppy.

There was truth to that. However, it still left her unsettled.

It was 2am when Cassandra finally arrived at the ER after a busy day and found the ward physician down there. She remembered seeing her around before, Dr Estefan, who was running her fingers through the mop of dark curls while designating patients.

It was indeed a chaotic day there since it was the weekend and normal doctor's offices were closed. It felt like everyone with even a mild cold was coming there in fear of it being something severe.

Cassandra was about to approach her, when a clearly stressed nurse came seemingly out of nowhere, holding a patient's file in front of her face. "You're a doctor, right?"

Cassandra blinked, her mind going blank. Technically, she was one, right? She had the degree and everything. At least she had more medical knowledge than an average person.

"I -uh-" Before she could even stutter out a proper answer, the file was shoved into her hands. The nurse being called by another colleague to assist before Cassandra could object.

Dumbfounded, the young physician took a deep breath and began skimming the filled in pages.

"male - 25 - laceration left arm - sprained arm"

In that moment one of the third-year assistant surgeons passed by - easily recogniseble by the green scrubs contrary to her blue ones and his confident way of walking. He was also one of her supervisor's best friends, so she knew him.

"Eh, excuse me, Dr. Torres. The nurse gave me this file an-"

He had already snatched the papers from her hands, reading over the important info. He glanced at his watch then.

"Ah, you can manage that on your own," he grinned, handing her the file back without giving any sign of wanting to help her out, "Remember what we practiced." He was already walking away, waving. "And if needed, page one of the orthopedists for the shoulder."

Yet again, she was left speechless.

Admittedly, it indeed sounded like something she could actually handle herself. So she inhaled deeply and nodded to herself.

Well, she could take a look and if needed, still call in one of the attending physicians - if she even managed finding an unoccupied one in this chaos.

The note attached to the file said room 044, which was right behind her and where the nurse had probably emerged from.

An insecurity was audible in the knock she gave the door and she took out a pen to scribble down her name as the assigned doctor on the file while pushing it open.

"Hello, I'm here to take a look on a wound?"

There was a short moment of silence before she heard the patient respond. "Y-yeah.."

She hummed, still not taking her eyes from the file as she walked to the counter when hearing him speak up again. "Do I know you?"

"Do you?" she questioned unimpressed as she set the file down and got a pair of disposable gloves, almost knocking off a bottle of oitment. Her clumsiness resurfacing once again.

"Think so.."

"Perhaps you'll remember later," she mumbled, not taking him serious.

She only moved to the city a few months ago to start her medical training after graduation and barely went out. Therefore she highly doubted anyone outside of the hospital would know or recognise her.

Slipping over the gloves with some strange determination, she turned around swiftly. Long curls swaying over her shoulders. "Now let's take a look on th-"

She didn't manage completing the sentence, however, her words getting caught in her throat when meeting a pair of wondering brown eyes. Triggering her memory in the second their irises met and her brows soon joined his raised ones.

"Three.. no, two years ago. Right?"

He was the first one to speak up after the short silence. His attempt to chuckle coming to an abrupt halt as his arm moved, a wave of pain washing over him.

"T-two to three years.." she repeated with a stutter.

Eventually, the scales fell from her eyes as flashbacks from a particular night during one of her interships rushed in front of her mind's eye. Of course.

"Oh, don't say you don't remember me, Doc." He mocked offence only for his smile to grow wider.

"No, no, I do! I also remember your friends," she quickly reassured, almost tripping over her words, "One of them was named Yoongi. Right?"

At this, Taehyung only laughed under his breath. "You remember him but not me? Can I have another doctor, please?"

"Hey!" Cassandra groaned playfully. And she stepped closer, tilting her head at him in an almost marveling manner. "I must admit, I'm amazed you managed remembering me with that concussion though."

"What do you mean? Pops would've busted us without you." A scowl was contrasting his gentle features and she giggled, remembering that odd nickname they had for the interpol agent.

"True. You still owe me one for that, cool guy."

Her lips tucked into a grin full of fake cockiness. She was obviously only joking but Taehyung's expression softened, cracking a small smile.

Of course he remembered her. How couldn't he? He didn't visit many doctors after all - trying avoiding it as much as possible. And he'd especially not come across many with such lovely doe eyes like Cassandra's.

"So.." he cleared his throat then, "What are you doing here? You're an actual doctor now?"

She nodded, not able hiding a little proud smile. "Mhm, only assistant physician though. I'm in my first year."

"I see.."

The young physician decided to proceed with the examination then, feeling they'd spent enough time with small talk - if it could even be considered as 'small talk', considering that term held a randomness and insignificance to it, which didn't feel suitable to their conversation. 

Carefully, she touched his arm. His hand was pressing on it firmly to keep the cloth he put on it steady, preventing blood from flowing all over his skin. But it also prevented her from taking a proper look on the wound.

"I know it hurts, but I need to take a look.." she slowly began, giving him an inquiring look to which he nodded. And he let her fingers lower his hand.

The wound was indeed not too severe, aproximately 3cm only. But it must've been deep considering the amount of blood.

"Can you move your fingers for me?" she asked and he obeyed, his left hand moving. "Good, thank you," she smiled. It was indeed good, that meant none of the main nerves was injured. She lifted his sleeve next. There was a light swelling on his brachium as noted in the file. "As for the sprain, we should do an x-ray to rule out a fracture or other bone injury as the source of the problem. But if you can still move the arm, it should indeed be a simple sprain."

"Whatever you want, Doc."

"Here's the deal," she retreated then with a confident posture, pointing at his arm, "I can handle all this. The puncture doesn't seem to be severe and only needs a few stitches, but if you feel more comfortable waiting for an attending doctor, I'm happy to step back. Good luck seeing one before midnight, though."

Taehyung chuckled at her sarcasm. As if she hadn't already taken care of his injury when she'd been a mere intern. Though, frankly, they hadn't left her much choice back then. "Funny how you let me choose. You think I wouldn't trust you a second time?"

She shrugged, biting back a bashful smile. "It's my duty to inform patients about all their options."

Taehyung observed her for a moment, licking over his dry lips in a contemplating manner. "S'okay, I'll take a risk and let you do it."

Cassandra's lips curled into a grin. "Good call."

While she began getting all the needed utensils ready, he took a closer look on her. She hadn't changed much, hence why he'd recognised her so easily.

Same sweet smile, same beautiful coppery curls, same dazzingly chocolate eyes, same cute round nose.

He hadn't noticed her beginning to work, too absorbed in his own thoughts. Only when she desinfected the wound, his mind returned to the examination room and he flinched.

"Want me to inject you a local anaestheticum for the stitches this time?" she asked with an arched brow. An amused smile toying on her lips when remembering their first encounter. "Now I can finally do it after all."

Much to her surprise, however, the young marksman shook his head. "No, it's fine. It already hurts like hell. What is there a little additional pain anyway," he tried joking and playing it off. And Cassandra let him, still giving him a knowing look when preparing the needle and threat.

"Ah, indeed a cool guy," she smirked then and he brushed off the fact he liked that nickname, despite its purpose being to tease him. "Alright then. But if it hurts too much, just say and I'll stop. Promise?"

And his lips tucked into a genuine smile despite his state, enjoying her concern. He nodded. "Promise."

Cassandra began the stitches, peeking at him after each one to ensure it was durable. She could tell he was clenching his jaw, but otherwise didn't seem to mind it. Perhaps the overall pain was indeed higher.

"So.. your name was Taehyung, right?"

The basic trick of engaging patients in a conversation to help them ease up and distract them had proven itself as very helpful to her over the years. That hadn't changed.

"Oh, so you do remember my name," Taehyung scoffed playfully.

She frowned briefly, a short laugh escaping under her breath. "Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugged as much as his injured arm would let him. "Because a minute ago you didn't even recognise my face."

Raising a brow, she got ready to defend herself. Having all the arguments ready.

How she saw countless of patients and couldn't instantly remember all their names. How his face got rounder and his hair seemed darker and definitely longer since their last and only encounter. How it had been years.

But she decided against it, focusing back on her work with a sly smile.

"Since you're talking so big, do you remember m-"

"Cassandra."

Her eyes went round and they met his teasing ones. With a light blush, she huffed and went back to the stitches. "So Taehyung, how comes there's a different name in the file?" She cleared her throat then, the wit returning to her lips.

"A different name, huh?" he played along, "That's odd."

She hummed amused, knowing the reason very well. "And how did your arm end up like this?" she wondered then with pretended nativity.

He most likely wouldn't tell her the truth anyway, but it was her duty to ask either way. And her suspicion was only confirmed when he nervously laughed out, gaze wandering.

"Oh, you know.. stupid accidents happen all the time. Tripped and fell onto something sharp."

That wasn't even a complete lie. He hadn't tripped though, the goon had twisted his arm and rammed the knife right into it. Perhaps trying fighting a guy twice his height - to be dramatic - without his gun hadn't been the smartest idea. Then again, he was entirely blaming Jimin for his current situation. They shouldn't have trusted those guys after all.

The young woman only hummed at this answer, not buying it at all but not able to disprove it either. Simply playing along as well. "Hate when that happens."

They exchanged a small chuckle.

"What are you doing here in Spain anyway?" he wondered out loud then. "Last time I saw you in Germany after all."

She shrugged, her eyes briefly catching the sight of a small golden pedant around his neck. She tried recalling if she'd seen it that night back then as well or if it was new to her.

"Was only there for the internship. Now I was in the mood for something sunnier," she explained with eyes still fixated on the wound.

There was an odd familiarity while talking so casually to him. Reminiscing of long-lost friends when in reality, they had only met once. Though frankly, that one time had been quite a lasting encounter.

"Stitches are done," she announced then and cut the thread. He perked up at this before wincing at the abrupt move. "That fast?"

"Oh, don't you remember? I'm a pro at this," she grinned almost smugly, being sure Dr Torres would be proud of her stitches. And Taehyung chuckled under his breath. Recalling something along the lines.

At last, she smeared some antibiotic gel onto the now closed wound and bandaged it with gauze.

Picking up the file again, he watched her with curiosity scribbling down something.

"As for the sprain.. avoid activities that cause pain, swelling or discomfort and regularly ice the area for twenty minutes each time," she said, too focused on the file to notice his eyes following her. "To help stop swelling, you can also compress the area with an elastic bandage until the swelling stops. And elevate the the arm above heart level, especially at night, so it allows gravity to help reduce it."

He only hummed, making mental notes of everything. Or at least he tried to as he kept getting distracted from the small wrinkle between her brows and her pacing around the room. Being in awe with her professionality when she talked like that, knowing exactly what she was saying.

"I'll also let one of the nurses give you some pain medications, if you need."

He blinked as she had interrupted his train of thoughts. "Y-yeah. That wouldn't be too bad."

"Well, then.." She stiped off the gloves and tossed them into the bin. Extending her hand to him then with a bright smile. "I would say come back soon, but this is a hospital and that seems wildly inappropriate. So.. take care, cool guy."

She had to admit, it was a pity she'd never see him again like most patients coming in and out there. Especially considering he was a thief who was, she assumed, still on the run.

Even if this was technically the second time they met. She shouldn't press her luck, she knew.

Taken aback, Taehyung stared at her hand. Eyeing it for a second longer than intended.

This was the part where he should say something, he knew but he had no clue of what exactly or how.

So instead, he simply accepted her delicate hand. Giving it a light squeeze and a shake.

Her cheeks feeling warm at the brief touch and the sight of Taehyung's endearing smile before he let go.

"Thanks, Doc. You.. you, too."

»»»

18th September

A month had passed since Cassandra and Taehyung had met yet again in the ER. Ever since, she had often caught her thoughts swirling back to him. Filled with a mix of curiosity and fondness towards the mysterious criminal with the harmless aura. Although those thoughts became less and less frequent with time.

It was the middle of September now. The weather far from being autumn yet, but the hot summer days were gone as well and so she slipped into a light jacket when exiting the hospital that evening. Mindlessly, she shoved a piece of gum between her lips to keep her mind occupied and distracted from her rumbling belly until reaching home and getting to eat properly.

There were several people around the parking lot, some leaving, some arriving. Not paying much attention to any of them as her sole focus was to get home quickly.

Only when her name echoed over the buzzing city noises, she paused in her tracks.

Glancing confused over her shoulder, she quickly spotted a tall man waving at her lazily. He was leaning against the wall of the ER entrance. And her eyes widened further. Wondering if he had actually been the one calling her or if she had imagined things.

He had ash-blond, mid-long hair which covered his forehead messily. Eyes hidden behind round black sunglasses which matched his black blazer. And for a second she tensed, not recognising this person despite the inviting voice and cheeky rectangle grin ringing a bell in the depths of her memory.

The man huffed out a laugh when noticing her hesitation. Lowering the shades on the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head forward to glance past them.

"You keep hurting my ego, Doc, you know that?" he winked.

And her eyes lit up.

"Taehyung?"

She quickly pursed her lips, realising how careless it might be to say his name out loud like this. Looking around then to ensure no one had heard her, she approached him with fast steps.

In all honesty, Cassandra hadn't expected seeing Taehyung again. Or at least not so soon. But frankly, she hadn't expected to ever see him again after that one night during her internship either and yet, a bit over two years later, their paths somehow had crossed again in a similar situation.

Funny how things worked in indecipherable ways sometimes. It wasn't all too predictable after all.

"I didn't recognise you with the new hair-colour and the glasses, sorry," she pouted apologetically when standing in front of him. Suddenly feeling very small under his striking appearance compared to hers, with a simple cardigan, shirt and jeans paired with a 'just finished a twelve hour shift'-tiredness on her face. Not much was left of it from the moment she'd seen him, though.

"But looks good. How comes?"

He only gave her an ambigious smirk. "Let's say it was time for a new look." Or rather disguise, he thought. Seeing an unconvinced glance behind her long lashes as she hummed.

"I see.. and how's the arm?" She motioned with her chin to the limb she'd taken care of only a few weeks prior. "Any better?"

"Mhm, fully recovered." He raised it with a nod, wiggling it as proof. "Great work as always by you."

She blushed and looked away at the unexpected praise. Coughing awkwardly then. "Well, I'm glad to see that," she nodded. Her heels rocking back and forth at the thought of her next question. "And to what do I owe the honour of this visit? Or was it just to update me on your recovery?"

Taehyung chuckled quietly. Shaking his head. "I still owe you, remember?" he said, matter-of-factly.

Her eyes widened at his words. "You owe me?" she repeated puzzled.

With a non-chalant shrug, he briefly glanced down to the ground.

Truth was, he hadn't expected seeing the young doctor with the warm smile and beaming eyes ever again either. He hadn't planned to. Because even if they relished more the challenge of stealing and there were times when they only stole the object in question to return to its rightful owner or someone who actually needed it - they still remained criminals.

He knew he should stay away from her. And yet, she was one of these people he just couldn't get out of his mind. Whether now or two years ago. No matter how hard he tried.

"You kept your promise two years ago," he said then, "And you didn't call the cops on me last time, either. So I want to make it up to you. If you let me."

Cassandra contemplated for a moment. Folding her lips as her conscience tried arguing with her about all the risks there were - and there were many - when getting involved with someone like him.

But then she glanced at him again and all she could do was smile.

It wasn't his handsome face, but the expression full of charming anticipation on it. It wasn't his heart-shaped lips, but the shy, boyish smile on them. It wasn't his mellow voice, but the words radiating warmth.

Her mind might've been trying warning her, but her chest was telling her otherwise.

"Lead the way, cool guy."

»»»

next chapter: 0.2 here

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[icedmatchatae]

Glimpse of Us | KTH Chapter VII: The True Reality

Pairing: Problematic Idol Taehyung x Grad Student Reader

Genre: Idol AU, Ex-Childhood Best Friends into—, Angst (Hello, welcome to my angst central), Fluff (mainly in the flashbacks), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

Summary: BTS’s V has been living a lavished and successful lifestyle, but underneath all of that, Kim Taehyung is far from the perfect image the media and fans made him out to be. All he wants is to relive the feelings of happiness and purpose in his life, but how can he when he left behind those memories years ago? The same memories, he hopes to see a glimpse of.

Warning: This chapter is HEAVY ANGST (basically trauma dumping), unhealthy coping mechanism (alcohol use), descriptions of financial instability, illness (a loved one has it), lying/deception, verbal fighting (manipulation?gaslighting?), unhealthy relationship (both in and out of the flashbacks), implied smut, semi-sexual themes, I kinda just wanna hug both of them, kenji is the real one rn :D, but damnnn just wait for the ending

Word Count: 13.3k

A/N: tbh writing this chapter was a little hard if I remember lol, only because of how I wanted to structure the timelines and the back and forth. It ended differently and I added to it, but I hope you enjoy it!! Feedback and comments are appreciated ❣️

Chapter VII: The True Reality || Series Masterlist

Sounds of scraping and dragging from your heels crashing alongside the rundown concrete ripped through the cooling midnight. With your phone in one hand and your bag in another, you tried to navigate through the city to make your way back to your apartment.

What was uncalled for was not realizing you were on the other side of the city and away from your destination. Of course, you were. Taehyung took you to an enriched area, safer to say the least. Nevertheless, it took you almost an hour by bus and train to reach where you lived, a more cryptic and hostile part of the city.

Walking up through the entrance, you glanced up at your apartment complex. It stayed on a shallow hill and was constructed with old red and white bricks, probably built over forty years ago. When you first moved in, the majority of your neighbors were the elderly but they yelled behind closed doors and all had petrifying little dogs barking. There were some younger ones, but none below 30. At one point when you left for school, a woman chased her half-naked husband out of their home with a frying pan. Paint peeled off the lobby walls, dirtied floors, and dark markings you didn’t even want to know, rusted mailboxes on one side, some trash left on the other. 

At the very least, this was one of the more secure buildings on this block, having decent front locks, a code entrance, and a visible working elevator. Once you entered inside, you got onto the lift and pressed your floor button twice, because if you didn’t, it wouldn’t have worked properly.

You reached your door and closed it behind you while triple locking it to ensure your own safety. You mundanely scanned the humble abode that was your home. Surprisingly or in this case, an old lady neighbor who snooped at your apartment when you were moving, said you had the better spaces in the building. It used to belong to some guy who had problems, her words not yours. You politely ended that conversation, not wanting to know anything else.

Your apartment was still empty after settling down for months. The only few pieces of furniture besides your bed and dresser were the futon table right in the middle of your living room and the floor lamp. You didn’t even buy it; you found it on the side of the street as it was being thrown away. But it still looked brand new, so you took it in.

You headed towards the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. Afterward, you sat on the wooden floor, settling down at the table. Exhaling, you slouched onto the cool surface. You stared blankly at the half-filled glass, processing what has happened to you.

Though you calmed yourself down when you rode the bus, you were still upset about what Taehyung almost did. He professed your appearance, didn’t agree to your compliments of his girlfriend, and forgot he even had one for a split second as he tried to kiss you. Just thinking about made you grunt in fury, slamming down a fist onto the table causing the glass and furniture to tremble on the impact.

You thought, you really thought that your friendship was starting to revive and thrive for the better. Now you’re definitely uncertain. It scared you because you don’t think Taehyung was ever like that before. Not once did he try anything. Again, he was a physically affectionate person but you’d think there would be boundaries with it if you had a significant other, right?

You were perplexed, wondering what the fuck is he doing. Maybe this was something new about him, a changed person? But yet, it wasn’t right to do and Taehyung would have known that too. Why was he about to ruin a perfectly stable relationship with Clara? It doesn’t make sense. 

However, as you pondered on it for a while and in the comfort of your home, there were certain speculations that you found that seemed questionable of their relationship. For starters, Taehyung never mentioned anything about a girlfriend until his members brought it up at the restaurant. Even then, he still didn’t talk about her to you, not even her name.

Every time you saw him and Clara together, the proclaimed physically affectionate Taehyung was nowhere to be found. When outside in public was given, but from Jungkook’s party, they linked arms and she’d lean on his shoulder but that was it. Nothing was coming from his end. Before you went out with him earlier today, he didn’t even kiss or hug her goodbye. It confused you because you watched him do that to his members, friends, and even you despite your rough edges of his touching.

Finally, for now, just an hour ago, your eyes focused on his phone when he received messages. It may be due to his idol status and to hide his personal life, but his device held no signs of Clara or being in a relationship with her. No change of her display name, no Lock Screen photo of them together, and certainly constant messaging back and forth on both ends.

Not once did Taehyung take his phone out throughout the day. If he did so, it was to take pictures before putting his device back into his pocket. You wondered what consisted of their relationship, what was really happening between the two, and maybe that was how they worked. He was an idol and she was a socialite after all, both in the world of media, famous for different reasons, yet a closet powerhouse couple. It was practically the perfect relationship everyone wanted.

It was all so unusual because you heard many remarkable things about them together. They were strong, in love as their eyes told it all, they were even living together!

Rumors of them getting married sparked among their close circle.

Your conscious made you feel guilty. Perhaps even thinking about it too much. Why were you putting your nose into something that wasn’t even about you? You were nothing, which should stay that way. You learned that the hard way and it left a pungent taste in your mouth when a gruesome snippet played in your mind. If you were to be something, it would be a nuisance that ruined the perfect relationship of society because of the attempt Taehyung made.

Thinking back, you were mean to him, ending the on/off friendship again of something minuscule from an outsider’s perspective. But you had to give yourself a little bit of credit because what if it happened again? You know, him begging for your forgiveness, you accepting it, and it repeats. Perhaps next time, he would have succeeded. You didn’t want to risk it. It wasn’t right to him, to Clara, and most definitely to you.

The only way to keep it from happening was to remain distant once again. Maybe getting too close was a sign. Rumors would spread and be twisted as the spiderwebs of communication get tangled by misjudgment and severe impressions. You didn’t want anyone else to interpret your relationship with him in such a way.

Then again, no one ever understood your bond with him. Not before, and most likely not now either. 

-

Taehyung slammed his car door shut before hitting the steering wheel out of frustration. Did he really just let you go like that? He didn’t know where you would be, if you got home, if you were okay. All he knew was that he pissed you off and your friendship was probably nonexistent with your words. He was ashamed of himself, why did he do that?

It came out of nowhere, even shocking him at the moment too. He just—when he looked at you, everything felt so right in his shitty life. All his troubles would go away, knowing that you were there. You stared at him like how you did when you were younger, he must have traveled back in time to when his teenage self found out that he was in love with you.

What a simpler yet scary experience that must have been for him. All he worried about was how much he was head over heels for you, but he never confessed. Not even when he left for Seoul and sure as hell, not after all those years. He kept this secret only to himself. No one knew and probably never will.

But he realized he slipped on that one, both parties not expecting that. Where was he going with this? He still wanted your friendship, which mattered to him the most even back then. He never wanted to ruin it, but he probably has now.

Why did he do that? After he ended the friendship on a whim, he constantly thought about you and missed you a lot. Years and years of thinking didn’t vanish even when he started dating Clara. You were literally in his life for more than half of his life.

Maybe it was longing, wanting you back into his life. But he finally got you! Well before he fucked up. So why did he try to kiss you?

Ugh, he wiped the excess distressed tears off his eyes and cheeks. Now he really wished for your forgiveness. He messed up in the past and he managed to have redemption. Perhaps your patience ran thinner, and you “not acknowledging his status of best friend” probably forced him to be kept on his toes. You had to show him that he couldn’t keep fucking up like he used to.

He looked over to the passenger’s seat and spotted your peace lily plant. Oh, how the night changed so fast.

He wanted to make things right, but he couldn’t do it now. He had to keep his distance, so you wouldn’t snap.

Still, he thought about how he let his stupidity get in the way, hating himself. He loathed this feeling, he needed to stop thinking about it because it would only get worse. He needed to get away from everything.

-

“Taehyung?” Seojoon croaked, rubbing his slumbered eyes to take a glimpse of his younger friend. He woke up when the idol called saying he was outside. He was too spaced out to even question, so he padded his way toward the entrance. Taehyung went inside before the actor closed and locked the door. The older man wiped his bare face with his hands, letting out a sigh. “The fuck are you doing here?”

“I need a drink with my Hyung.” Knowing the layout of his friend’s one-story house, he strutted into the kitchen and searched through his cabinets for his alcohol stash. Seojoon was known to have variety in his liquors, which he took pride in, but that also meant free drinks for his friends every time they came over.

He found a half-empty bottle of whiskey in the cupboard. Being the thoughtful friend that he was, he picked it up and twisted the cap off before downing it. The burning sensation dragged inside his throat passed his intestines and reached his stomach acids. He burped heavily after clearing the bottle and settling it on the kitchen island to grab another drink.

“Hey, you know you have your limits here.” Seojoon reminded as he grabbed the unopened whiskey from the idol. Taehyung didn’t even fight back but watched him retrieve two old-fashioned crystal glasses from his cabinets. There he poured the syrup-hued content into the cups, then offered the idol one.

They cheered the drinks together before taking a strong sip. “Why’d you come here? It’s almost two in the morning. You’re lucky I don’t have an early schedule in the morning.”

“Hyung, I fucked up.” Taehyung groaned as he tasted the liquor on his tongue.

Unlike his members and especially Jimin, Taehyung felt very comfortable with his friends to the point where he can really be himself and not have to worry about it and what they say. Think of the members as family. You couldn’t choose your family, but you can choose your friends.

It was easy to tell Seojoon, the eldest and played the role of the father of their group. He was more forgiving than his older Hyungs, still caring, still understanding of Taehyung’s perspective yet stern. But when the idol told him about what recently happened, the actor cocked his eyebrow up with concern.

“Why’d you do that?” Seojoon questioned.

“I don’t know…” Taehyung muttered as he swirled the content of his cup around. “It was all unexpected. But she stopped it.”

“Well, that’s good. Otherwise, you’d be a cheater, Tae, and we wouldn’t want that.” The older man said seriously, yet Taehyung lets out an airy laugh before gulping more alcohol. His reaction made him curious. “Why’d you laugh?”

“Ahhh, nothing. Probably the alcohol getting to me.” Taehyung snickered, brushing it off too quickly for Seojoon’s liking. But the older one decided to let it go for now.

“Would you have wanted her to stop it?”

“Huh, what do you mean?”

“How about this?” Seojoon piped as he squinted his eyes in wonder. “If she didn’t back away, and you two kissed, what do you think it’ll mean? What does this say about your friendship with her now?”

What would have happened if he actually kissed you? “I-I-I don’t know.”

Expecting that answer, the actor sighed. “Then you’re lucky, she slapped the shit out of you.” He grimaced as he stared at the inflamed marking on his swollen cheek.

“Yeah, but Hyung, our friendship is basically destroyed now. Knowing her reaction, don’t you think it’d be a lose-lose situation whether or not it happened?” Taehyung’s thoughts were in shambles with alcohol fluffing up his brain.

“It’s better than not knowing.” Seojoon vaguely explained, but somehow it applied to all contexts. “Look, if anything, it’d be worse on the other end because you’d hurt a lot more people, i.e. you, Clara, and ___. It just sucks for you that ___’s still the one that’ll hurt in either case.”

Taehyung exhaled before chugging down the whiskey. He had a nasty shiver down his spine, while Seojoon observed with a scowl. “Do you think she meant it when our friendship is over? She never smacked me before either.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know her that well.” Seojoon honestly responded, making Taehyung pout. “But judging by the times I met her, I think she was spiteful at the moment. She seems…very forgiving, especially towards you. I mean, technically you are the closest person to her in Seoul besides that coworker. If you say it was an honest mistake, then maybe she’ll understand.”

They were met with silence, basking in the conversation. Taehyung poured himself another drink, as the alcohol rapidly got to him. He hoped Seojoon was right, but he feared otherwise. It was difficult to understand when he doesn’t truly know how you felt about him. You still held this weird distance despite his attempts. He wasn’t able to fully engage himself in the friendship if you didn’t reciprocate back and he wanted you to so badly.

“I don’t suppose you’re leaving anytime soon.” Seojoon huffed. “I refuse for you to drive wasted. God knows what happened the last time, you’re lucky you didn’t get far!”

“Hey, I crashed into your mailbox. It wasn’t that bad!”

“Still! I don’t even know how you stole the keys from me.” Seojoon shook his head in disappointment. “But go to the guest room! Sleep the drunk off and maybe get a cab in the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Taehyung grumbled, finishing up his whiskey. With shaking legs, he stood up and wobbled towards the room. Before he entered, Seojoon called for him.

Grabbing the idol’s attention, Seojoon said, “Just reflect on what you’re doing. I don’t know if you talk about it with your therapist and all, but please do if you aren’t. Maybe he’ll help you with how to approach ___. Also, don’t do anything that would hurt Clara.”

As soon as his back touched the sheets of the full-sized bed, Taehyung sighed. He thought about the last words Seojoon said. Don’t do anything that would hurt Clara. He scoffed at them. 

Yeah, yeah. Everything had to be done to stop her from hurting. Never him.

-

Staring into the bathroom mirror, you stayed restless. You couldn’t sleep at all last night, resulting in the bags and dark circles around your lifeless eyes. The sun wasn’t even out yet and came later in the day due to the changing of the seasons. You wanted to punch yourself for registering for an 8 AM on a Monday, but there was no other choice since it was the only course topic available.

You indeed had a long day ahead of you. Fortunately, you had classes until noon, but that meant you started work afterward. But that was okay, you just hoped Taehyung got the picture of leaving you alone for some time or forever.

You had to at least appear less dead than you actually were. Maybe some nice earrings would help. You usually had on your necklace, but a little more wouldn’t hurt. Walking back to your bedroom, you reached for your jewelry box to grab that was gifted to you from the Kim family for Christmas when you were younger. Though you don’t talk to them anymore, the gift held a special place in your heart and memories.

When you pulled the said jewelry, the velvet cushion tugged out of the box as well. Separating the two with ease, you were about to place it back inside but something caught your eye. You hooked onto it and touched the symbol of your friendship. Worn down and faded tones over time and smaller than it used to look, you found your old friendship bracelet. The charms were still intact, yet you could see the damage made from careless bumps and scraps against surfaces and edges. Your initial charm had a small piece missing from a very heavy and infuriating throw to the wall.

You still remembered that day clearly, weeks after the last call.

You made your attempts to contact Taehyung and also waited for him to call back. But he never did. He blocked your phone and messenger, so during these times, you’ve been taking advantage of his siblings’ cell phones. You didn’t fully explain to the two what happened between you and their brother, only the fact that he wasn’t answering you anymore.

Sungyeon and Eunjeong didn’t know either, but they were willing to help you. They’d take turns giving you the phone. It hurt knowing that it rang while you got the automatic voice, but you felt that there was still hope in your friendship left. Oftentimes, it did go straight to voicemail during the day and he would call back at night when you weren’t with the siblings. You asked them to never mention your name and how you’ve tried reaching out. So all those feeble attempts were assumptions of his siblings missing him.

It was until one day after school that he finally answered your call on Eunjeong’s phone. The simple greeting of his “hello” wanted to make you cry into tears of relief, but you feared everything in between the call. You didn’t know if he needed more time away, but you missed everything about him. It has been a struggle with the distance, as well as the planning for your grandmother’s funeral. You wanted his comfort by any means. If it was through the phone of his sister, then so be it.

There was so much to be said yet no words came out of your mouth. “Hello? Hello, Jeongie? What’s up? I have a break. You good?”

Eunjeong stared widely, waiting for you to respond. She nudged your shoulder and nodded. You parted your mouth shakily before clearing your throat. “H-Hyungie. It’s me, Blue.” Then silence came after, being so loud that a dull white noise interfered. It was quite nerve-racking. You don’t know if he heard you, so you repeated. “Hyungie. It’s me—”

The dial tone met your ear. You looked back at the phone, seeing Eunjeong’s Home Screen. He ended the call before you could finish the sentence.

Your shoulders deflated into your body and you curled forward. Your body trembled as the tears began to fall off your face. Seeing you like this, Eunjeong shook her head in rage at her brother’s behavior. Regardless, she knew you needed some comfort and she was the only one to give it to you.

She looped her arms around you, rubbing your back to soothe your cries. So much has happened in your life, and Taehyung had the audacity to hurt you too? He was never harsh to you so what happened?

Suddenly her phone rang, catching the two of your attention. It was Taehyung again. Eunjeong glanced at you, shaking your head in refusal. You were scared of being rejected again.

She sighed but thought might as well answer his call. She pulled her phone to her ear and said, “What?” You couldn’t hear him very well, but you heard his shouts. “I don’t care about damn honorifics right now. Why are you being rude to ___?” Yelling again. “What? Why should I? I’m not helping you with your mess—” A sigh, then a milder response. “You can’t ju—I don’t wanna say th—” His voice was softer. “This is all on you. I don’t want her to be shunning our family from your shit.”

A quieter conversation happened between the siblings while you watched it unravel before you. You wiped your tears when you heard, “Whatever, fine. Fuck you!” Eunjeong ended the call before she threw her device onto her mattress. “Annoying asshole.” She muttered, not caring if you heard.

You tilted your head questionably as you asked, “What’d he say?”

Her pupils felt twisted as she struggled to approach what her brother wanted her to convey. It was so wrong and wanted to fight him because not once did you do anything wrong. She bit her lips as a debate broke out in her mind. She knew you weren’t going to take it well, but whoever does when your best friend wanted you out of his life.

Yet your eyes encouraged her to speak up. You were afraid, but at least you knew. You would know if he needed more time or tell you to give him more space from your smothering. It would be okay because your friendship remained intact.

But once she revealed his response, every hope, every will, your bond was shattered.

You said nothing while you nodded, feigning that you understood and agreed with the situation. Eunjeong knew that was a lie, especially with the blooming of tears spilling through your eyes. But before she could even let out a sound, you stood up and ran out of their house and to yours, the cold and empty one.

You rammed your bedroom door shut and let every emotion you suppressed consume you. Screaming, weeping, punching pillows, throwing books across the room, anything to let out the hurt within you. As you were jabbing a plush toy, your friendship bracelet grabbed your distraught attention.

It was a simple symbol of your friendship. The love, care, trust, and worth between you and him. The everlasting memories held together through the strings were crumbling down at your fingertips. Conjoined, my ass. Saying that you were stuck with him and never leaving your side. Complete bullshit. He never cared for you, you were worthless to him, with no trust in sight, and most importantly—

He didn’t love you.

You pulled the bracelet off of you and threw it as hard as you could to your white walls. A cracking noise pierced through the air, the bracelet dropped on your wooden floors holding no sentimental value.

You sunk onto your bed and just let the tears fall so painfully.

You didn’t know how it got in here. Maybe your cousin who helped you pack found it and put it in by mistake. Nevertheless, you still had the bracelet with you and in your hands.

You were honest with yourself when you say that it was difficult to throw it away. It felt like a bad omen. You kept it on for so long, it almost seemed like you were going to be buried in it. The bracelet went through so much, that it, unfortunately, held sentimental value because it was with the Taehyung you once knew.

This one you met had a few quirks here and there, but wasn’t your Taehyung, your Hyungie. He may look like him, have the same birthday, parents, siblings, all of the above, but it was still not him.

It didn’t mean you refused to understand and get to know this Taehyung, but your heart was more reluctant, afraid to open up and accept his comfort and warmth. His words weren’t as trusting, but they felt familiar. You saw him through his eyes, but they were buried underneath unspoken territories. Yes, you saw how much he has been hiding things from you and you knew that they weren’t coming out any time soon. 

But you wished for them to. You missed him so much, you wanted to grab that layer of him and run away. But you couldn’t.

If you wanted that layer, you needed to accept all layers, and you weren’t ready for that.

-

Taehyung arrived back home at five in the morning. He sobered up after taking a three-hour nap. He could still feel the alcohol in him but it wasn’t too intense, so he was functional enough to drive. He didn’t say goodbye to Seojoon and left the premises, as the actor was asleep. It happened in the past, and Seojoon knew that Taehyung got home safely with the tightening trust he unfathomably held for the younger.

The idol sneakingly stepped into his living space, hoping Clara wouldn’t notice. He attempted to be quiet as a mouse and he succeeded with the front door and locks. But once he tiptoed through the living room, he was met by surprise with his enraged girlfriend sitting on the sofa holding daggers in her eyes. She had her pink robe on and bathing house slippers on with her arms crossed.

“What the fuck, Taehyung?” She yelled through her lungs. The high-pitch sound irritated his alcohol-infused body. “I’ve been texting and calling you and not once did you fucking answer.”

“I did answer you.” He rolled his eyes, not bothering to be quiet any longer. “You knew I was out.”

“Yeah, you texted once close to fucking midnight saying you were still out!” The socialite scoffed at his weak reply. “Now it’s five in the morning and you just came home!”

“Okay, what’s the big deal? I’m fucking tired!”

“Where the fuck were you? The last time I heard from you, you were still with ___. I swear to God if you tell me—”

“Well, I’m not! I wasn’t with her. She went home on her own after that text if it makes you feel any better.” He snapped back as he threw his keys on the kitchen island. “I was with Seojoon afterward. We drank and knocked out at his place.”

“Taehyung, you drank?” Clara gasped incredulously as she stood up from her seat. God, he rolled his eyes at how dramatic she was being. “Didn’t I say not to drink too much?”

“You say it, but I don’t listen.” He responded truthfully. “What’s the big deal anyway?”

“To prevent any more scandals from happening. You know what happened the last time you got too drunk?” She recapped, the memory back in her mind. “You almost got arrested for beating someone up. You’re lucky my father kept that under the rug or else it would have exposed you.”

His face scrunched up at the horrific experience. He remembered the severe panic attack he got right after, but he didn’t even remember what the guy said, but it was along the lines of bad-mouthing him and the group. But mainly, insulting him like he knew everything about Taehyung, or in that case, V of BTS.

“Well, I was with Seojoon, happy? I was fucking safe, so stop your yelling.” He sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion on him.

“No, I’m not happy because you were gone the entire day and I was waiting for you, so we could have dinner together.” She pouted as she stepped towards him. He stepped back when she came closer. “Here I was with my cold side order of extra japchae while you’re out and about with some other fucking chick.”

If steam came out of his nostrils, it would have shown. There she went again with her damn accusations. “My God! You even knew and saw us going out! Stop insinuating shit when nothing happens.”

“I’ll fucking stop when you finally fucking have time for me!” Clara shouted back, eyes bloodshot with stress and despair. “You’re not doing anything right for me, and it hurts when I do so much for you.” He heard sniffing coming from her nose once he spotted a stream going down her cheek. “I’ve been patient and respectful with all these interests and bullshit you’re doing, but you never do it back. Don’t you love me, Taehyung?”

His mouth opened but closed back up as he gulped. “I-I-I do.”

She snorted before rolling her eyes, “Oh, yeah? Then why did you spend the whole day with some girl?”

“She’s not some girl. She’s my best friend!”

“And I’m not your fucking girlfriend?!” She protested, grabbing him by the collar and shaking his stature. With shocked eyes, he tried to calm her down, holding her arms away from him. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you doing other things with her? I know she’s your best friend, but she’s too pretty! I don’t like how much you’re so invested in her. I’m pretty too yet you don’t hang out with me!”

The crocodile tears started forming in her tear ducts, yet her voice was thick with madness. Now she was talking any shit that deemed her as the victim. ”And you have scandals with other idols and actresses. Why does that happen, but we can’t? Fuck, you’re so unfair, Tae! Where’s my loving and sweet boyfriend, huh? One who brings me flowers, takes me out on dates, goes above and be—”

“Stop fucking expecting so much from me!” He interjected, pushing her touch away. He leaned into the counter, creating distance. Raking through his hair, he grunted with annoyance. “You see how much of a fucking train wreck I am! My life is already hard as it is.”

“Yeah, I know how you’re a fucking train wreck and I hate how you’re so adamant about sticking by it!” The socialite sneered, disgusted at how he was acting. “But my life is also hard too! You know how difficult it is to keep this image of us. We,” She pointed at him, then herself. “Are supposed to be perfect, Taehyung.”

“Why do you care so much about how “perfect” we supposedly are?” He hated that that was a concern of hers. He gave no shits about how people thought about their relationship, but he couldn’t speak openly about it because people would get mad at him for disagreeing.

“Because we are their expectation.” She explained like it was obvious. “We’ve been together for five years, Tae! But this is more than just that! We aren’t doing anything like we used to because you’re not making any time. This is your fault! You never make me happy!”

Taehyung squirmed when the blame pointed at him. There it was again too. The guilt ate him for not doing anything right, getting sucked into the realm of ridicule. You can’t do this right, you can’t do that right. This was all his fault.

“I’m sorry.” The only thing he could say in defeat.

“You better be.” Clara wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Maybe I’m overreacting…I don’t want you to stop your friendship, but I’m getting tired of you not having time for me.”

The idol looked down at the floor, refusing to look at her sorrowful state. But he knew she tried making him look at her by grabbing a hold of his hands and gently squeezing them. “I’m s-sorry. T-There’s just been a lot right now with everything.” Her touch burned his skin, the discomfort growing with every second.

“I know, but can you at least try?” She begged, ducking down to see his eyes. “I’m fucking trying!”

Taehyung nodded silently as his teeth sunk into his lower lips. He held back so much and offered so little. Clara was always known to never back down. Her expectations of herself and their relationship were higher than they could be even reached. But knowing if he gave in, then the fighting would stop and maybe she would be satisfied.

He felt her dainty arms encircling his torso as a sign of peace, a thing that couples did after fighting and now making up. Something that worked in the past but now…not so much. With tensed arms, he carefully wrapped around her as well, tightening the hug and hoping it would all go away. 

“I love you, Taehyung.” She spoke softly, pushing her face into his shirt.

Her words contorted his face as he sucked in a sharp breath, but she never noticed. Lifting his hand, he laid it flat at the back of her head, caressing her hair. It took him a second before saying it back, “I-I love you too.” His focus was on her now, lips thinned but curved enough to resemble a shy smile.

Raising her head, Clara gazed into the syrup color that was his eyes. Her teary irises twinkled in awe at the beauty of her boyfriend who she loved with all her heart. Shutting her eyelids, she tiptoed higher to attach to his soft addicting lips. Once they meshed, the electricity of passion coursed through her body. He tasted like alcohol, whiskey to be exact, yet it tasted like his musk and tinge of cinnamon spreading in her mouth. It has been so long since they’d kissed like this and she only wanted more.

She pressed herself onto him, holding onto the collar of his shirt. Caught by surprise, Taehyung took a step back, hitting the edge of the counter and then narrowing his hands onto her hips. Her tongue swiped through his lips, begging him to let her in. Though reluctant, the idol accepted the action and the muscles swirled against one another.

The socialite parted away to whisper, “More, Tae. More.”

He knew this was going to happen at some point, despite his constant avoidance. But after what happened, he couldn’t dodge it any longer. His heart palpitated in agitation as he nodded once again, “I’ll give you what you want.” Then their lips touched before they ran and tangled up in their bed in their apartment.

-

“Taehyung, you’re late again,” Namjoon informed as he checked his watch, then at his heaving younger member before him.

“Sorry, I-I forgot how much time passed.” Taehyung apologized as he stabilized his breathing with his hands on his hips. But the leader held a stern stare with a clenched jaw.

“Let’s not worry about that right now. Bang PD-nim is waiting for us.” Seokjin interjected to ease some tension. “We’re all here, and all good so let’s go.”

After partnering with the Na Group conglomerate, Big Hit hosted their first stakeholder’s event near the company building with the rise of BTS’s popularity nationwide and gaining more international exposure. There have been rumors of them potentially getting invited to the Billboard Music Awards Show next year as well as a nomination, but it was too early to tell.

Being the only active group of the company, BTS was invited—but more like involuntarily told—to come to show their appreciation to the now sponsors of Big Hit. It wasn’t something they preferred since it was meeting new people but had to go to show face at the very least.

An hour into the event, while the older members were socializing with the esteemed guests, the younger ones were a bit bored and sat down at a table in the corner of the banquet. Taehyung, especially, was not only tired but not feeling it. He was the last one to get ready as he was the last one to get up out of bed despite the event being at night. He came home last night close to noon after an NDA encounter, which wasn’t all that new to the idol and the other members. But if anything, he had the most but almost never remembered their faces.

The members haven’t explicitly spoken about it to him but ever since Taehyung became an adult, he hasn’t been…doing so well. The older ones specifically Namjoon and Yoongi assumed that it was just a blue transitional period of his life, but got too excessive with the drinking, one-night stands, and fights. But not with the members, fights with random people, yet still it was difficult to keep that away from the media. If he turned to fighting with members, then that would cause problems, right?

Anyways, he hasn’t been himself and it has been a growing concern. Jimin always worried for his best friend, as Taehyung was the least expectant to take on this spiral. He would usually talk enthusiastically and do things playfully and passionately, especially when they were trainees. Although for a good year after BTS debuted, Taehyung also had a rough time and felt down. None of them knew what happened, apart from the falling out of his childhood friend back home but didn’t think much of it…well, except for Jimin.

Your friendship with Taehyung was always questionable to him. Not in a bad way, it was different, to say the least. He never met you, only heard your voice. But the mannerisms Taehyung gave out were not what a best friend would do. Because what kind of best friend whines about missing your cuddles?

Either way, Taehyung always denied that you were nothing more than a best friend and eventually Jimin gave up. But when his friend continues acting out after being a dumbass and never contacting you again even after almost four years later, the question comes out every so often.

Jimin and Jungkook tried their best into helping their member out, but nothing seemed to work. Seokjin and Hoseok suggested new hobbies…but that, unfortunately, took the wrong track with the NDA collections and drinking. The members faced a wall, unable to come up with a better way to help him.

But then in the corner of his eyes, Jungkook spotted something particular. Or rather felt eyes watching their table. Subtly sensing the direction, the youngest spotted a young lady staring. She was by all means one of the prettiest visuals to see, absolutely breathtaking. Not really the youngest’s type, but nice to look at nonetheless.

However, though he felt her gaze all over, it wasn’t necessarily directed toward him. She was completely oblivious to Jungkook. He followed her eyes, which then landed on the second youngest, Kim Taehyung, himself. But he ignored his setting completely, reading a manga chapter on his phone.

Jungkook’s pupils went back to the girl and she was still keeping them on Taehyung. Jimin kept himself occupied with a flute glass of champagne while people watching at its finest. And at that moment, the youngest had a splendid idea that changed Taehyung’s life completely.

“Taehyungie Hyung,” Jungkook called over while he kept his eyes on her.

“What?” Taehyung muttered as he scrolled through his device.

“Th-There’s a girl staring at you.”

“I’m not in the mood to fuck someone right now. I have a really bad hangover.” The idol bluntly said.

“Tae, you know someone could stare without the idea of sleeping with them.” Jimin joined in the conversation.

“And how was the success rate of that?” Taehyung retorted, ultimately putting his phone down to look at the two. “Probably zero.”

Jimin pursed his lips, accepting the correct answer but he decided to not let it get to him. Instead, he ignored his friend’s reply and turned to Jungkook. “Who’s this chick?”

He tried his best to be undetected, but Jungkook was never good at that. The youngest pointed directly at her, which ultimately caught her attention. All three of them followed his finger, finding the young girl. Within seconds, her eyes bulged out and her lips parted before her back towards them.

“You know you’re a dumbass sometimes, right?” Jimin sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “And don’t fucking point! It’s rude!” He slapped Jungkook’s shoulder, but it made no effect on him. “Do you also not know who she is?”

“Are we?”

“That’s literally Na Clara! She’s a socialite and the daughter of the Na family!” Jimin answered as if they were supposed to know. “Her dad is part of the reason why we’re here! So she could meet us because she’s a fan.”

“A fan she may be, but her eyes were googly eyes for Hyung over there.” Jungkook nodded over to the mundane Taehyung.

Taehyung rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever, not like it matters.”

Jimin squinted at his best friend, then scanned the room for the lady. Once he found her, her eyes were back on Taehyung. Lifting a brow, an interested smirk crept up onto his lips. “Tae, why don’t you talk to her?”

“No, thanks. Don’t want to get into trouble with daddy’s little girl and her money.” Taehyung barely looked her way, but he knew that he didn’t feel good about her.

“Come on, Hyung! It’s a perfect opportunity.” Jungkook suggested, leaning closer to Jimin who was in the middle of the trio.

“Perfect opportunity for what?” Another voice appeared, it was Yoongi’s. The rest of the members came back and sat, completing the group table.

“Na Clara is looking at Taehyung,” Jimin responded, earning a glare at his same-aged member. “She probably likes him. She’s still staring, you know.”

“Wow, Clara?” Namjoon gasped. “PD-nim said she’s a big fan of ours too!”

“She’s pretty too.” Seokjin acknowledged.

“Taehyung, why don’t you talk to her?” Hoseok too recommended.

“Why are you all so adamant on me talking to her?” Taehyung sighed, feeling somewhat pressured. “I’m not interested in her anyway…”

“Come on, you don’t know that.” Jimin countered, nudging him on his side. ”Maybe it’ll be nice, you know? A good change from your hookups.”

“Excuse me? I ha—”

“Tae,” Jimin lowered his voice. He looked around, observing the rest of the group staring back in a suggestive way. He peered back at his stubborn friend.

Taehyung sighed, trying his best not to blow up at his friend. “Chim, hook up or not. I don’t think it’s a good idea—”

“I just want you to find change. We want you to find good change.” Jimin disclosed, being honest with how the group was respectively feeling for him. “You’re spiraling and it’s not good.” With that, Taehyung stayed quiet and bit his lips nervously. Yes, he was absolutely aware of what he was doing but he never bothered to change. “You’re not doing anything bad! We just…don’t know what would happen in the long run.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Taehyung sighed and blinked. “And you think me talking to the socialite would help? Her staring’s not gonna change my life.”

“Okay, I didn’t want to do this,” Jimin muttered before leaning into Taehyung. His lips were near his ear as he whispered, “You haven’t been yourself since you and ___ stopped talking.”

Taehyung swore his heart dropped, skipped a beat, and ached at the mention of your name. It has been so long since your fight and not once did he ever apologize or call back. He didn’t know how you were doing, what has life been like for you, or even if you missed him because he did. He missed you so so so so much.

But wondering if you missed him might be pushing it after what he did, calling you needy and never wanting to talk to you. He still regretted saying that to this day. He knew those words were hurtful and sensitive towards you. Nevertheless, he thought about you almost every day. After almost four years, you graduated high school and probably went to college like you’ve always wanted to. But all he could do is assume and wonder.

He still loves you very much, and hopelessly too. Despite all these one-night stands, he never cuddled, never hugged, never looked their way, nothing but sexual pleasure really and to get his mind off the gutter temporarily. If he did do those things, he dreamt it with only you, his Blue. Recapping all the times he had you in his arms tightly while you slept soundly on his chest, it pained him every day to know you weren’t there anymore. And without you, he vowed never to do it with anyone else.

“What about her?” Taehyung questioned, suppressing the sadness of the loss of you.

“It’s been years, Tae. If you’re not talking to her, then you should move on.” Jimin explained, but Taehyung shook his head. “Maybe this isn’t about her, but still. You should do something.”

He’ll never admit it, but Jimin was right about you and what he was going through. He felt a bit stuck in his past, but it was only because of how happy he was when he was with you. Everything after you seemed boring, stagnant, and numb to his fast-paced lifestyle and career. He didn’t feel like he was growing as a person, just being a human who was being told what to do and say. Kinda like right now.

But Jimin had a point. He has been not feeling much with his life. The NDAs and constant drinking weren’t doing much for him besides a temporary fix. Change may be what he needed.

He glanced to the side and saw Clara, who was surprisingly talking to someone else. She was pretty and fairly approachable. Could this be the change he needed? Someone that wasn’t you? Of course, no one could replace you but still. He hasn’t even thought of talking to anyone else as he did with you. He doesn’t think he could do it. But with this sudden urge from his members to go for it, he seemed to be outnumbered with his choices. His members meant well, so maybe. But none of them ever knew how he truly felt when you were out of his life.

Yet he second-guessed himself. Being encouraged or rather forced by his group members, it seemed that it was inevitable for him to avoid meeting and talking to Clara. Seokjin jokingly suggested settling down with her, which Taehyung found repulsive but laughed it off fake-happily.

Once Taehyung stood up from his seat and walked towards Clara, her sparkling eyes found his nervous yet sad ones. He greeted and introduced himself to her and she did the same back. To his dismay, they had a filling and fruitful conversation for so long that they didn’t realize that the event was about to end. But he couldn’t help but compare her to you. You were different, in appearance and aura. Clara seemed confident in herself but had a people please vibe. She didn’t look all that genuine in his eyes but still seemed nice in a passive-aggressive way. 

She was nice to talk to, but that seemed it for Taehyung. Clara, however, wanted to see him again and asked for his number. Reluctantly, the idol accepted, reminding himself of what the members said. It happened all too fast that he couldn’t remember what they even talked about. But little did he know how important it was for them to be together and the relationship that would flourish for years, to the point where there were talks of marriage. 

Yet the thought of you floated in the back of his mind.

-

A loud bang on the table you sat at interrupted the peaceful break that you used up to take a quick nap. “Howdy, partner!”

Raising your head from your arms used as a cushion, eyes readjusted to the lighting and blinked until the sight was visible to you. It was a weak sight since you only saw Kenji bugging you once again. “Why are you in a bright-ass mood all the time?”

Kenji joined in and sat across. “Well, one of us has to when the bright bubbly worker is a cold stoic fiend right now.” You scowled at your coworker before getting back to sleep in your final minutes. The younger observed you, looking more tired and weak today than before. You’ve gotten better with your habits lately, so it was worrisome to see you like this. He hoped it was only an off day today and that you weren’t back on a self-destructive cycle again. “You good, ___? Never had enough sleep?”

Sighing, you knew you weren’t going back to napping. You pulled your chin up from your sleeping position and rested on the tops of your forearm to look at him. “Yeah, had a little trouble last night so it resulted in this.”

“Family doing okay?” He referred to your circumstances back home.

You sighed, yet felt surprised that was the least of your problems…well, today that is. It was only because you somehow managed to pay the medical bills on time this past Saturday. “Grandpa is…getting by.” You scrunched your nose at the thought of him. He nodded, understanding his condition but couldn’t fathom what you were going through. 

Ever since your grandmother passed away unexpectedly, he has been working harder to provide for both of you. He worked restlessly in the fields from sunrise until sunset while you picked up everything in the household. You’d help him on the weekends but worked at the shop and other menial jobs around the town for some extra earnings after school. Since you were a minor, you weren’t allowed to have a steady job so everything was under the table.

Your family wasn’t as financially stable but kept a roof and food on the table for you. Your grandparents were somewhat retired, yet kept to themselves in their farming. After the passing of your parents, their life insurance money was used to support you and your needs. Of course, the numbers decreased as you got older, and by the time you graduated high school, there was little left to support you through college in Geochang.

You even contemplated not pursuing college and continuing with family farming, but your grandfather convinced you not to as it wasn’t something you loved. He knew you and he would regret it years later, so without talking to you first, he took out loans for you to pay for the rest of your college. But he lied in the beginning and said it was money saved on the side by him and your grandmother for you for emergencies.

You believed him, so you agreed and went to college all without knowing. You even graduated and had a steady job before going back to school, and he still didn’t tell you. However, it was only when you were about to leave for Seoul, he collapsed on the ground during lunch and went unconscious.

You rushed him to the hospital where you found out that not only has he been keeping the loan payments from you but also his health was declining and been growing weaker by the second. That morning was a trigger that caused him to be bedridden in the hospital even after you left.

You were livid with emotions and couldn’t comprehend what was happening as it came all at once. So you straight up broke down and cried in the middle of the hospital room while your grandfather’s nurse, Moobin, tried his best to calm you down. You were upset about everything, even refusing to move now that you found out about the truth. But the main thing that you had to do was help and care for your grandfather regardless of how you felt about your hometown.

You took on so many roles on the farm, at home, and when you visit the hospital. You were on the brink of exhaustion, but all of that was taken away from you by your other family relatives willing to help you both out.

Even without the labor, you had to think about the loans you now had to pay off. Half of your savings wasn’t even enough to cover at least 15% of how much you owed. Don’t forget about the lovely interest! Fortunately, it was on pause when the loaners found out that you were going back to school.

But then there were your grandfather’s medical bills. You had the responsibility of paying them off and helping him as he stayed at the hospital, too weak to be self-sufficient. Though your grandfather always told you not to worry about the money, you still did, even to this day. Both of your grandparents never wanted you to worry about their grown-up problems, to the point where they were always discreet and kept things from you. But you had the habit of overhearing, wanting to take ease and weight off their shoulders for how much they’ve done for you. Again, they reminded you that you were their child and needed to be raised, not raise them, but your need to assist remained. They worked hard for you, so the least you could do the same back.

You had a few family members from another farming providence move to Geochang and were willing to help with the farm, house, and grandfather, which you were grateful for. But you’d never ask for any financial means despite all of them knowing what happened.

Money has always been tight for you, especially living in this city. That’s why you never bought things for yourself unless it’s necessary. Your clothes were either thrifted or gifted to you, school books were rented through the public library, you didn’t have a car���not even having a license, and your laptop which cost a fortune was a present from the elders of your hometown knowing that you’d need it. 

You missed home sometimes, for your grandfather of course. Buildings and skyscrapers were a bit much for you, people were somewhat cold-hearted, and it was harder to haggle here. You wished to visit soon, but with money right now, all you had to focus on was school and work.

“You know we’re here for you, right?” Kenji reminded, leaning into the surface of the table. You smiled at his endearment worrying and constant reassurance that you always liked.

Living here has gotten better though. You weren’t as alone as you were back in Geochang. After your only friend ever dropped you, you didn’t turn to others especially when you had no time to socialize since you were helping your grandfather. When you did accept them, then it only left you disappointed and even more distant. Your social meter was practically non-existent over there.

Though you were usually closed off and wary, you’ve met very nice people here and worked with a good family who truly cared for you. Despite your guilt for leaving behind your ill grandfather who begged to differ, it made your depressing boring life a little happier than previous years as well as warmed you back up.

“Yes, I know. Thank you, child.” You nodded, reaching your hand out to mess his hair up. He grimaced and cursed at you when you treated him like a little kid. “Even Halmeoni and Harabeoji too.”

“You don’t need to do everything on your own, you know. Especially when you always do things for others and yourself. Jesus, when was the last time you even did something for yourself?” He questioned.

You stayed quiet as you scrunched your nose in wonder. But when you don’t answer, Kenji complained, “The fact that you have to think says something.” He earned a glare from you. “You like to give and help, but never want anyone to do the same back.” He mentioned as he scoped the quiet restaurant. There were some tables filled, but every one of them has been served. “Just like serving, it’s nice to have a helping hand.”

“I know…” You rolled your eyes. “It’s just hard to trust people sometimes. I need to be careful.”

“How long does it take for you to trust someone?”

You kept quiet, pondering the question. It took you a while to trust Kenji after months of knowing him, you knew to trust his grandparents as soon as possible, and some college peers never got too close to you since you refused, maybe it just depended on the person.

Then your mind went to Taehyung. You always had one foot in and another out the door, in case he fucked up. You were being more strict with him. But the thing was that Taehyung had his own category for you. He was different because he wasn’t a complete stranger, he was your best friend who you used to trust after breaking it. And yet again, he broke it. Well, not really. You don’t know yet, it has been barely a day yet.

“Depending on the person, I guess.” You shrugged.

“What about Taehyung Hyung?”

“Why must you resort to him?” 

“Because you have history with him.” He smirked, pushing his fists up into his cheeks to squish them. Unfortunately for you, he acted as someone you confided in since he was always nosy yet understanding. It has gotten more and more like that when you first told him about Taehyung, but not all. “Seeing you’ve gotten closer to him after all, do you trust him now?”

You exhaled, leaning back into your chair. “Trick question.”

“It’s not a trick question.” He scoffed. “Or you just don’t want to answer it because you already know and you don’t like the answer?”

“What are you trying to be, my therapist?”

“I can.”

“Look Taehyung and I are not as close as you think. He’s different now, an-and changed, practically a stranger.” You semi-lied, trying not to make it a bigger deal than it actually was. “And we’re also fighting now. He disappointed me.”

“Not as close but fighting, wow. Didn’t know strangers do that.” Kenji replied sarcastically. You eyed him out, wishing to punch his cheeky smile off of him. “If he upsets you that much, then first, he’s not a stranger, second, he’s worthy enough for you to care for him. And third, probably enough to have your forgiveness. Maybe even trust, like do you really wanna give up on him? I feel like you’re the type to not give up easily.”

“You’re such a little shit.” You couldn’t say anything to defend yourself with his statement because deep down you knew it was true. So you resorted to bad-mouthing him, and blushing like an idiot.

“I’m a little shit who’s right.” He hummed lightly, not caring for your anger. “From the past weeks, he’s been here and with you, you’ve gotten better. Happier and healthier in your frozen exterior. You like it but you don’t wanna admit it with the past, and your damn pride.” He explained unapologetically. “New flash, my dear. It’s the past, so move on.” He said it so plainly that it insulted you. But it was the cold hard truth.

A customer called for him to which he stood up and you checked your phone, seeing that your break was over so you stood from your seat. “I know you’re scared, ___. You don’t wanna get hurt, can’t blame you but deep down you still want him there. So be a little bit more forgiving of him. Be okay with trusting him. Hell, maybe lean on his shoulder for support. You’ve seen that guy all without that fame and fortune that probably no one else knows about. Even without that, I’m sure he’s still the same Taehyung.” He grabbed a chair and was about to head to the table, but wanted to say one last thing. “Knowing you, you do things passionately and wholeheartedly. Why not do the same in your friendship with Taehyung instead of being on edge?”

You paused yourself as your heart thumped questionable. Why not do the same in your friendship with Taehyung instead of being on edge? The very question stayed in your mind for the weeks to come.

-

Laying down on his bare back on top of the disorderly dirtied sheets while his legs tousled with his naked partner resting calmly curled up by his side, Taehyung looked up at the ceiling. He didn’t know how long it has been with the blackout curtains covering any light from the outside.

Yet another day restless and upset with himself of two things—you and Clara. But right now, it was all because of her.

The earlier moments recaptured in his brain. The sudden rush of energy, electrifying touch on one’s skin, and immense release was brought upon them for hours as two lovers shared the love they had for one another. Bodies stick and tangled together to further the lasting bond.

If only that were true.

Energy was always being drained out of the life force. When she touched his skin, it felt dreadful and scorching. The connectedness into one was nowhere to be found. In fact, what was left of him in the aftermath was the uncomfortable numbness that he stilled upon himself for years. The use of his body for her own needs while he suffered the consequences of his.

With teary eyes, Taehyung glanced at Clara’s sleeping form. Even in no light, she glowed bright, bright enough to not notice his struggles, his true self. She slept so peacefully, never bothering to care if he was. He went back to the ceiling watching, as his pupils burned with hopelessness.

At the start of their relationship, it seemed so good. He gave her a chance with his heart, eventually making him fall in love and give his all to her. Spending hours together bonding, receiving blessings from family, and the gilded romance of their love was so jubilant that it was all fake.

Because underneath that so-called love was nothing but fights, accusations, gaslighting, and insecurities. It was like water and fire, and one of them would always be extinguished at the end.

Clara was expectantly nice on the outside. Her sweet and kind behavior felt like a ruse the second she stepped into the closed doors and four walls because there, she tricked his whole entity. Discouraging, insulting, playing cheese in the trap, lying, all she did to him. Yet Taehyung was the bad guy making her cry, being unfair, and spending less time with her?

Of course, she covered them all up by helping him on the outside such as begging him for therapy, helping him to reconcile with his members, and especially showing off how fabulous and perfect their relationship was to their circles. Though kept from the general public, as long as she knew she had Taehyung, that was all that mattered.

Nothing Taehyung wanted mattered to her. If it did, it was to help her image. It has gotten worse as time went on, exponentially within months. But sadly, he knew she was his endgame, and that very thought injected poison into his mind. There was nothing that can be done, nothing he could do without consequences.

Disgusted. He felt disgusted with himself. He wanted to shower and wash all the scum off his ruined body and damaged mind. The tears welled up and ran down his face and temples while snot formed up his nostrils with no one else to hear except for himself. He felt like he had no one, no one truly caring for him. No signs of help.

It wasn’t what he wanted. Because if he said what he wanted, everything that was built up to this point would be destroyed. And what he wanted was a dream, a hopeless dream that he so determinably wanted.

It was so close yet far to even reach. 

-

The serene of the nightfall sat the motionless park. The glistening of the moonlight reflected off the clearing river, glowing the scene around. The sounds of gentle winds could only be heard as Taehyung and Clara laughed together, enjoying their time and meal together. 

It has been six months since they first met, and six months since a somewhat blossoming relationship began. The two have gone on countless dates, exchanged gifts, stayed up long nights for video calls, messaging each other, and have already seen each other’s families by now.

Yet, they weren’t entirely “official.”

Of course, BTS was on its way to success as its popularity grew exponentially overseas. Obtaining new and diverse fans, selling sold-out shows, crafting rich and authentic music, and the list goes on. But that also included restrictions for the seven members. 

The life of an idol came with a price, and that included having their private life be limited from hanging out with friends and family, having eyes on you at any time of the day, pretending to not know what sex is, and everyone’s favorite—dating. 

Dating continued to be a controversial topic as it even removed members from the group, led fans into foes of their once favorite artists, and somehow technically ruined their lives. It could be an exaggeration, or not.

But that was more of a reason for idols to not date, or at least be careful about what they were doing and who they were with.

However, it wasn’t as much in Taehyung’s case.

In the eyes of the public, Na Clara was the ultimate dream girl, a down-to-earth socialite who deserved the whole world for everything she did. She was sweet, smart, charming, gorgeous, and an absolute pleaser. And Taehyung did see that in her…but always questioned what was more to it.

Everyone would think that they were becoming the new “it” couple…well in secret. With their looks, their fame, their interests, their connections, it seemed so fitting, even perfect, one might say with this idol-socialite combo to just be together.

The idol grew quite fond of Clara, hence why, he kept her around. He learned much about her—mind, body, questions, responses, even remembering and picking up certain habits that the socialite had like asking what things were in a pout or making a disgruntled face of disinterest when seeing problematic people.

His members and friends saw how Clara made life so easy for Taehyung. She wanted it easy for him. She wanted to take the heavy weight of life off his shoulders. She took him out of that down-spiraling playboy NDA life, told him to do this instead of that if it’s not good for him, and comforted him when times got rough and times were indeed rough…still rough.

It was best to say that Clara was the best thing that ever happened to him.

But why wasn’t their relationship being taken to the next level?

“Oh, Tae! It’s so beautiful here.” Clara gazed into the atmosphere like from a scene from a 2000s indie film. “Thank you for bringing me, and the little picnic dinner. So adorable!”

Taehyung’s vacant expression at the park view was ripped away as he glanced down to the blanket where their dinner rested —take-out pasta and fried chicken with two empty wine glasses that were stained red. The idol hummed and nodded, “I’m glad you enjoyed this.” He was careful with his words.

The socialite turned to face him. His eyes weren’t meeting hers as they stared back into the scenery. There was a physical distance between the two, the picnic basket in the middle of them. Although they had slept with each other countless times and it was obvious what their relationship was by now, Taehyung never showed as much affection to her as hoped.

Clara found out through others that Taehyung was a cuddly person, who loved to touch those he loved and cared about, but she never experienced it herself. They kissed and hugged, but it was almost mechanical. Maybe it was just because they weren’t official, and he didn’t want to scare her off. She didn’t know, she even tried talking to him, but Taehyung continued to be an enigma.

“Come closer, Tae.” She motioned him to be near, which was usually typical as the socialite would be the one to initiate things.

Though he cocked an eyebrow at her, he obliged. Pushing the basket away from their space, Taehyung scooted closer to her until their thighs touched. Clara then rested her head on his shoulder before he hesitantly wrapped an arm around her dainty waist. He pressed his cheek on the tops of her head, slowly getting into a comfortable position.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

There was a slight pause, but it went unnoticed by her. “Yeah, it’s been better.”

“I’m glad for you…” She smiled before furrowing her eyebrows as she did her best to gather her words and confidence. “Tae, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh no, am I in trouble again?”

The socialite giggled at his assumption, shaking her head. He felt her stare “No, babe. I’ve been thinking…about what we are.”

Taehyung grew confused as he looked down at her supple face. “What do you mean?”

“I really really like how things are with us. I enjoy being with you and learning more every day about what’s going on in your head. Just the thought of you makes me get butterflies.” Clara explained the best way she can. “It makes me want to fall harder and harder for you that I want more.”

“M-more, why?” Okay, he knew he sounded stupid and probably shouldn’t have responded that way but it couldn’t be helped. He was taken aback and wasn’t expecting such a serious conversation to a causal date. It wasn’t even as fancy as past dates and dinners.

Clara pouted at his response but tried her best to remain lax. “Well, what do you think about me? Us? Is this us just being like…this enough for you?”

“You know my life is difficu—”

“Yes, I completely understand!” She interrupted before sighing. “I’m also in a similar boat too.”

You will never understand, Taehyung thought but didn’t speak out loud. He always thought a lot of thoughts but never said them.

But the longer Taehyung said nothing, the more anxious Clara was becoming. Maybe she just needed to get the point across, also known as her feelings. As a measure, the socialite then took Taehyung’s unoccupied hand and intertwined it with hers. Her brown almond eyes gleamed at his under the silvery moonlight as she said her four words, “I love you, Taehyung.” So soft and delicate yet enough for the idol to gasp slightly. “I’m in love with you, I’ve been loving you for a while.”

Clara’s heart skipped a beat.

But Taehyung’s didn’t. It was more panicking about how she was acting so forward with this and why she wanted more. He was fine with what they were doing now, and now alone.

“Look, you don’t need to say anything. I know you’re not ready to say it yet and that’s fine, but don’t you want to take our relationship to the next level? Being official. I’m willing to do all it takes to be with you. Please, Tae?” Clara wondered as she tried to find his eyes. They wandered elsewhere, not wanting to face her. The socialite felt herself sinking at his reactions. “Unless…”

That was when Taehyung finally reached her. Her glowing irises layered with a slight gloss while she bit her painted lips. Was she about to cry? Taehyung started to feel guilty. “Unless what?”

Clara composed herself before asking, “Unless there was someone else.”

Unless there was someone else. The words now consumed his brain. There was no one else near him after meeting Nara. The members saw no one too. His playboy days were practically non-existent. There was no one to go to, no one to comfort him, no one to make his day, no one to make him smile, no one to make him happy.

Except.

Then suddenly something—someone appeared before him. Someone who had longed for.

Whatever how Clara looked, her features formed into another. Rosy plump cheeks filled with joy and life, cheekbones shaped into glory, hair shorter but braided down to the chest, perfect cute rounded nose, and those familiar doe eyes.

The ones that would suck him into a trance every single moment and be immersed in the ever-glowing beauty of the kind and altruistic aura he knew. The aura that made him feel like a magnet and gravitate towards. The gravitation that made him realize that no other love would ever compare to this love he had.

The love he had for you.

Taehyung loves you so deeply that it continued to this day. The undying love he never confessed to you, not even when he was with you, not even when he was about to leave, not even through your night calls. Even after the falling, he continued to wish to see you again and tell you his confession that was hidden and buried deep in his heart that he told no one else, not even his members or family. Why? Because it was a confession for you and only you.

He saw you in front of him, smiling your patient smile and laughing with tears in your eyes. He now noticed the flush of your face, the puffiness around your eyes, and the inaudible sniffling you were doing. He realized it was a memory of you, the day he found out that he wanted to love you more than you or he could possibly imagine. The love his father once told him and be forever ingrained into it.

“Hyungie…” Your loving tone was voiced out as the vision of you looked back at him. Even when appearing sad and heartbroken by a dumbass individual, you looked like an angel. You were so beautiful. “I will always love you.”

Immediately, he spoke, “I will always love you too.”

“You do?” Another voice shattered through his consciousness, causing him to snap back into reality.

It wasn’t you. It definitely wasn’t you. You were gone, and you were never coming back even if both parties tried. There was no ___ and Taehyung. No Blue and Hyungie. All trash, absolutely nothing. No future together, whether near or far. The relationship you once had with him has been crumpled up and cast away, burning into the pits of broken memories that hurt him by the slight thought.

You weren’t here anymore. He couldn’t save it. He loves someone who wasn’t here with him anymore. The falling tears he didn’t realize he shed ran down his face. Oh, how he missed you so much. He wanted to do anything and everything in the whole world to get you back and into his arms again.

“Taehyung,” Clara called for him again, but he was unresponsive. He was too busy crying out the overwhelming love he had for you. He chanted faint “I love you” with his eyes closed, thinking of you. 

It was only when Clara cupped his face with her pale hands and moved his head to meet her eyes. Taehyung’s eyes opened up, expecting you but he knew it was too good to be true. It was her, the only person he had.

But not the one he wanted.

“What happened? You started crying.” Her tone was so much different from yours. Yes, sweet, but sickly sweet.

“I-I-I think…I just—got overwhelmed with emotions.” He didn’t want to say what was on his mind. It was an asshole thought for her anyway. Better to keep it hidden.

The socialite nodded, simply taking that because she was more concerned and very much intrigued with what he said back. “You said…” His bloodshot eyes tiredly stared back blankly. “You said you will always love me. Is…that true?”

He blinked. Her hopeful demeanor was seen kilometers away, evident that she needed the reassurance. But Taehyung held back as the voice in his head debated on what to say.

He cried for you. Yet you were gone, and you took his heart with you. He didn’t know what you were doing, probably college, having a fun normal life, getting a boyfri—no. You were doing your own thing for years without trace or contact. The second he fucked up, everything about you was gone in his life. Little by little until his life practically forced you out. But the memories remained.

But was this it for him? To go on with life without you or his heart? To have all of you before but have none of you now? He didn’t know how to go on with life without you. What was he going to do?

Look at him right now.

But Clara was here, she’ll only be here from now on, and that pained Taehyung. No one would ever replace you. He refused to replace you, you were his one and only Blue.

Still, you were out of his life and left him empty but with a purpose. He was an idiot and he should be punished for what he did. 

All he needed to do was survive without you. He had to at least try. He needed to do this. He needed to fall in love with Clara. Do it for him and his state.

“Yeah…I love you…with all my heart.” He was supposed to say this to you, not her.

Clara’s hope glowed bright like the heavens as she threw herself on him, making him stumble back and fall onto the blanket. She straddled his hips, embracing him with all her might. Taehyung didn’t know what to do and laid there before hugging her back to avoid awkwardness.

She lifted her head that rested on his shoulder before giving him a deep kiss which he did back willingly. What felt like passion and an exchange of love from Clara was only messy, wet, and forced to Taehyung. She parted from him with a string of cold saliva stretched, their foreheads resting on one another.

She focused all her attention on the man she loves. The burning devotion flamed her whole body, wanting all of him, wanting all the love he had for her. At last, Na Clara, the socialite, the visual of South Korea, was with the rising idol, Kim Taehyung, V of BTS.

“I love you.” She cooed, pecking his nose.

Yet Taehyung’s eyes grew blurry as he lets go of more tears and pain within him. Through the fuzzy vision, he only thought of you. There wasn’t anyone in the world for him, but you. But he had to remind himself that you weren’t here.

This had to do. This had to work.

“I love you too.” I love you, ___, my Blue. He cried out. Clara giggled, thinking how incredibly sensitive he was being for her. She whispered reassurances and comforted him, saying that it’ll be okay and not to cry. She was here for him, always by his side, wanting to turn his dark days into sunshine and rainbows. It was all perfect. The couple, the love, the bond, all perfect, perfect, perfect.

Yet perfect never meant that this would work.

Tagged: @manuosorioh @kaal-ee @stfxthv @dahliasbouqet @bertqut1 @fuckthinking @taebangtanbabe

[korealog]

[1] Somebody else’s life, or not? (ENG/DE) — Wednesday, 17.06.24

(ENG)

Now to today. For all those who are unsure which day I mean exactly... Wednesday 17 July 2024 ;) Jimin and I had first planned to meet at 11am and then drive to the ‘Gamcheon Culture Village’ together. Unfortunately, her university intervened, which is why I set off on my own today. First by metro and then up many, many, many stairs. At the entrance, you could buy a card for 2,000 Korean won (the equivalent of 1.30 euros) to collect stamps. For every stamp you collect, you get a free postcard! Cool, right? Then it started and I was able to immerse myself in my role as a tourist.... A photo here, a photo there, oh but here's a nice spot too. On my tour, I also came across places that I'd otherwise only seen in photos or videos. Again, it felt like a dream. You're probably wondering what I mean... a wall painted with the members Jimin and Jungkook from BTS (both were born here). The little prince keeps popping up all over the village. He seems to be like his own little landmark here. Did you know that all the houses were only built because North Korea invaded back then & Busan was the city furthest away from the border? That's why more and more people fled and even built parts of their houses there from old gravestones. But before I bore you with history, let's get on with it... the day is about to get interesting ;) While I was looking for more stamps, an elderly Korean gentleman came up to me and explained the ‘House of Hope’. I immortalised myself there and wrote down my wish. He then showed me more stamps and invited me to go to Songdo on his scooter. Before you think anything, DON‘T! As you can see, I'm doing brilliantly and couldn't be happier. I was a bit sceptical at first, but I plucked up all my courage and went for it!

To be continued...

(DE)

Jetzt zum heutigen Tag. Für alle, die sich unsicher sind welchen Tag ich genau meine… Mittwoch, den 17.07.2024 ;) Jimin und ich hatten erst geplant uns um 11 Uhr zu treffen, um dann gemeinsam zum „Gamcheon Culture Village“ zu fahren. Leider ist bei ihr die Uni dazwischengekommen, weshalb ich mich heute alleine auf den Weg gemacht habe. Erst mit der Metro und dann noch viele, viele und aber viele Treppenstufen nach oben. Am Eingang konnte man sich für 2.000 Koreanische Won (umgerechnet 1,30 Euro) eine Karte kaufen um Stempel zu sammeln. Bei jedem Stempel, den man sammelt, bekommt man eine Postkarte gratis! Cool, oder? Dann ging’s es los und ich konnte in meine Rolle als Tourist eintauchen…. Hier ein Foto, da ein Foto, ach hier ist aber auch eine schöne Stelle. Bei meinen Rundgang bin ich auch an die Stelle gekommen, die ich sonst nur auf Fotos oder Videos gesehen habe. Auch das hat sich wieder wie ein Traum angefühlt. Ihr fragt euch sicher was ich meine… eine Wand bemalt mit den Mitgliedern Jimin und Jungkook von BTS (beide sind nämlich hier geboren). Im ganzen Village verteilt taucht auch immer wieder der kleine Prinz auf. Er scheint hier wie ein eigenes kleines Wahrzeichen zu sein. Wusstet ihr, die ganzen Häuser wurden nur gebaut, weil Nordkorea damals einmaschiert ist & Busan die Stadt war, die am weitesten von der Grenze entfernt war. Deshalb sind immer mehr geflüchtete und haben dort sogar aus alten Grabsteinen Teile ihrer Häuser gebaut. Bevor ich euch jetzt aber hier mit Geschichte langweile, weiter gehts… der Tag wird nämlich gleich interessant ;) Während ich auf der Suche nach weiteren Stempeln war, kam ein älterer koreanischer Herr zu mir und erklärte mir das „House of Hope“ (Haus der Hoffnung). Dort verewigte ich mich und schrieb meine Wunsch hin. Daraufhin zeigte er mir noch weitere Stempel und lud mich ein, er fährt mich auf seinem Roller nach Songdo. Bevor ihr jetzt irgendwas denkt, tut es nicht, wie ihr seht, mir geht es blendend und ich könnte glücklicher nicht sein. Ich war am Anfang auch etwas skeptisch, aber habe all meinen Mut zusammengepackt und mich drauf eingelassen!

Fortsetzung folgt…

[sailoryooons]

The Iron Ring | One | pjm (m)

❀ Pairing:  fae prince! Jimin x human! female reader

❀ Summary: After finding a mysterious ring while cleaning out your late grandmother’s attic, you receive the unlikeliest of visitors: a fae prince who claims you have something that belongs to him. Discovering the fairytales your grandmother told you are true is the least of your problems when you’re taken to a world dangerous and unfamiliar.

❀ Word Count: 3,432

❀ Genre: fantasy au, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Heavy world building, funeral scene, mentions of death (elderly), brief mentions of toxic relationship between reader's mother and grandmother (not too serious), mentions of ailing mental states of the elderly, physical altercations (Jimin and reader fight this is action fantasy ok), Jimin is toxic (hard to understand what he wants, is prone to some violence), threatens to kill/ dismember reader (EMPTY THREATS HE THINKS HES TOUGH), mentions of daggers and swords, use of magical abilities, sexual tension, Fae Jimin is a warning in itself. 

❀ Published: May 25, 2022

❀ A/N: I am so thrilled to be writing this finally. Fantasy writing is my element - I feel like I write fantasy genre so much better than any of my other content. I do find a lot of people are as enthusiastic about it, but I really hope you enjoy this. Please note that this story is only 5 full chapter long - this means that each chapter I write will ALWAYS be around 20k-30k per chapter, because I'm doing this as a mini series. I find it much easier to do large works like this because it's less likely I lose motivation.

This first chapter does not have smut - I hope that does not turn you off, however I wanted to establish the dynamic between Y/N and Jimin before I really played up that part. I do promise for those of you just looking for some filth that it will be in the next chapter.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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You know that funerals are meant for crying, but you find it difficult to produce tears. The folded chair beneath you is damp with the rain misting under the black umbrella held tightly in your hand. A morbid thought crosses your mind as they lower the casket into the freshly dug grave - it looks exactly like a scene from a mafia movie. The gray sky swollen with rain, the clusters of dark umbrellas catching droplets. 

Next to you, your mother sniffs, wiping her tears away. You can’t imagine what she is going through, but you think there is guilt there. Guilt for not being there in her mother’s last days. Guilt for writing off the ramblings and confusion of an old woman. 

In her last days, your grandmother was a nuisance to your mom. An old weight stressing her out with ailing health, a reason to take off numerous days from her incredibly important work as a fashion designer and owner of her own company. 

The fact that she is crying tells you how little your mother knew about grandma in her dying days. She wouldn’t want anyone to cry. She was old and lived a full life, and she had wanted peace in her last days. Waiting to join your grandfather, who had died much earlier. 

So you don’t cry. For your grandmother, for her legacy. Because though you’re sad, and though you will miss the soft stories whispered at your bedside as a child, you know that she’s wherever she was meant to be. 

That’s enough for you. 

Funerals, as expected, are a bleak affair. The gathering after is even worse. Catered food that is colder than it should be, dishes made in haste by neighbors and mourners. Escaping the stale perfume of your mother’s friends and those who knew your grandma is imperative. 

Your grandmother’s house is old, built in the 1800s with nooks and crannies and rooms leading into rooms in a dizzying maze. It’s well-kept, though some of the porch out front leans and the screens in the windows could do with replacing. 

It doesn’t matter. The home holds sentimental value to you. You wander up the creaking, carpeted stairs. It still has shag carpet, holding in every smell familiar to you as you climb. Your room is on the second floor facing the north and front of the yard, in the rounded part of the house above the reading room on the first floor. It’s quiet upstairs as you pause in the hallway, looking at the frames mounted in the hall, a wall of memories.

Your childhood stretches behind each piece of glass, contained within the woodwork and cardboard backing. 

After admiring each fragment of your history, you trail to your room. The door creaks when you open it. Gray light filters in through the window, the gossamer curtains pulled back. Dust motes float in the room. It is completely undisturbed. Your old twin bed is tucked neatly in the corner of the room, pink sheets tucked neatly. You sit on it, feeling the bed springs give under your weight. 

A mural painted with your grandmother’s careful hand stretches on the wall opposite your bed and around the wooden door leading to your closet. You look at the greenery and the vines crawling up old castles, faeries and sprites dancing around under the moonlight. A glowing sword held by a warrior maiden with a circlet of moons and stars around her hair. 

The painting is a collection of hundreds of stories your grandmother has told you growing up. They all revolve around land called Faerie, where creatures beautiful and deadly exist. The maiden in the story was always your favorite character, fashioned in the likeness of your grandmother herself. 

Sighing, you finally feel the threat of tears. You swallow past it and lay down on the bed, content to be in the room again. The bookshelf with the music box is untouched, but free of dust. Though time seems to freeze the room in place, you can tell that your grandmother kept it clean. The thought makes your lip wobble.

Instead of crying, you turn on your side and close your eyes. You imagine that she’s there next to you, brushing your hair with her soft hands and murmuring, There once was a princess without a crown. Don’t worry, she got her crown eventually, but she had to fight a monster to earn it… 

-

Darkness covers the room. You groan when you stretch your limbs, sore and cramped from sleeping on the uncomfortable bed. You’re still dressed in your funeral clothes. Grabbing your phone from next to the fairy lamp, you click your lock screen open. It’s near midnight. 

You see texts from your mother and roll your eyes. Of course she thought you left early - she hadn’t even bothered to check the rooms upstairs. Groaning, your joints pop as you get out of the bed, shuffling to the center of the room. Slipping your shoes back on, you make to leave the house and head back to your apartment. 

The hallway is night-still. Your steps break the silence as you use the screen of your phone to navigate the hall. Nearing the stairwell, you pause. You don’t know why, but something makes you turn and look at the opposite end of the hall. The small door that leads up the stairwell to the attic above your room beckons you. 

Something in you buzzes. The urge to walk to the other end of the hall and open the attic takes over. You don’t know where it comes from, only that you haven’t been in the attic in years. You were never allowed up there alone - it kept some of your grandparents most prized possessions. 

The world seems dull as you take a step towards the end of the hall and away from the stairs. A dull buzz enters your ears as you take another step, eyes fixed on the door. It would take only a moment to go up and look at what is there again. Trinkets and curiosities that you always loved to admire under the strict supervision of grandmother. 

Suddenly you’re outside the door. You reach for the knob and it feels like a tremor of electricity vibrates down your arm. Up up up your hand goes, closing around the brass knob and-

Your phone ringing makes you scream in surprise, dropping it entirely. You press your hand to your chest, heart pounding. The adrenaline shoots through you like an arrow, immediately making you feel sick from the sudden fear. 

Spell broken, you reach down, shining the phone face toward you, blinding you. It’s so much darker in the hallway than you remember. 

You slide your finger across the screen. “Hi, Joon. Yeah - sorry, I fell asleep after the funeral. I’m going home now - let’s have dinner tomorrow? Sounds good.”

You rarely blow off your best friend, but Namjoon is the kind of person who understands people the way you wish you could. He reads you like a book, always anticipating when you need space and always knowing what to say. He has been your rock during your grandmother’s ongoing health issues and passing - and he’d have been with you today, if you hadn’t assured him that his presentation at work was more important. 

The attic is forgotten about as you shake off the tired feeling. You head back to the stairs, jogging down them and shoving your phone in your pocket. Yawning, you lock up behind you and leave your grandmother’s old house standing alone in the night. 

-

Fabric clings to your shoulders uncomfortably. The blazer you’ve pulled on for your meeting is too tight in the arms, not allowing you to reach too far upward and feeling awkward as you shuffle out of the car. You reach to close the door, the sleeve straining against you. 

Formal wear isn’t your forte. You find it uncomfortable and you rarely need to use them unless you’re doing a signing or something official. Your usual clothes involve anything comfortable for writing children’s stories, weaving the tales from your childhood. Your grandmother had helped illustrate more than a few.

The thought makes you smile as you shift in the padded seat of the reception room of the legal office. You check your watch - the lawyer in charge of divvying up your grandmother’s estate is late. But so is your mother.

Next to you, the door opens. Your mother breezes in, dressed in a wonderfully tailored pantsuit and heels. She looks effortlessly beautiful, smiling when she sees you. You stand and press a kiss to her cheeks. You always wished you looked like her when you were younger - lithe and graceful with a sort of effortless movement. 

Now you’re happy that you look exactly like your grandmother - commanding and firm. You’re not graceful, but you’re strong. People listen to you when you speak, though that’s the one thing you share in common with your mother. 

“You look nice,” she says, sitting down next to her. You accept the comment, though you hate the outfit. “You should dress like that more often.” 

You love your mother. She is a strong woman who raised you primarily on her own while creating a fashion empire around herself. Though your childhood was filled with living at your grandmother’s when money was tight and more often than not having your grandparents keeping you during fashion weeks and long-weekends, your mother loves you. She isn’t unkind, and she tries to be supportive of your whimsical dreams. 

It’s just that you’re nothing like her. You’ve inherited the wandering mind from your father, his enchanting fascination with worlds of fantasy. And though that had attracted your mother to him in the first place because it reminded her of her mother, after your dad passed, her passion for anything magical vanished.

The struggle between wanting you to do something corporate and letting you live your dreams was constant for her. And you knew that she tried - she bought your books and she asked you about them. But the pinched brow and the twitch in her mouth always told you that she was disappointed. Because you reminded her of her late husband. Reminded her of the struggles with her own mother.

So you let the comment pass. It’s not an insult - she just wishes you were more like her. Carried you for nine months, she would joke. All for you to come out like grandma and your dad! 

“How’s your new book doing?”

It’s a question to broach the silence. You answer anyway, “Good. I’m glad grandma was able to illustrate for me.”

“She loved that you made her stories your own. I don’t know if you realize how much that meant to her - means to me.” You look up at your mom. For a moment, her face is older than you remember, more open and vulnerable. She touches your hand and you feel emotion well up inside you. “I’m glad we have those, for her. So thank you.” 

When the lawyer opens the door, the moment is gone. But you’re glad that it happens. 

Standing, you smooth your blazer and follow your mother into the man’s office. It’s stuffy and you feel claustrophobic. It smells like peppermint oil and tea tree. You notice that there are crystals lining his bookshelves, your eyes recognizing obsidian, tigers eye, smoky quartz. 

The lawyer himself is wire-thin and skittish, pushing his glasses up his pointed nose and apologizing profusely. He was dressed in jeans with paint stains and a shirt tucked in, evidence of a donut on his collar. You don’t know why, but he makes you smile as you sit down. You immediately imagine him as a willow man from one of your stories, a type of dryad made of willow bark, as flighty as the breeze. 

“I apologize for the delay,” he says again. “The lock box and papers went wandering off on their little feet - critters drive me nuts!”

You raise your brows. Your mother raises her hackles, fingers digging into the arms of her chair. “You almost lost my mother’s belongings?”

“Not permanently!”

Her nose flares. “Make this brief, please.” 

The lawyer - Mr. Willow, which makes you suspicious of your own mind - goes through the papers outlining your grandmother’s estates. It’s mostly split evenly, with certain heirlooms and keepsakes going to your mother. You can tell your mother is struggling with some of the items mentioned, something personal and meaningful to her.

The surprise comes when you get the house and specific belongings inside of it. You recognize objects kept in the attic that Mr. Willow goes over. Your mother goes rigid for some of them, and though you don’t know why, you find yourself nodding along. 

At the end of the meeting, you are much wealthier than you imagined being in your lifetime, and you have a house full of curiosities and memories.

Outside, the world is gray. It has rained most days since your grandmother has passed away. The imaginative side of you feels as though the world is weeping for her loss. The realist in you knows the rainy season is approaching. 

A touch on your wrist draws your attention to your mother. Her mouth is pinched, and nostrils are flared, sure signs of her annoyance as she tightens her hold. “You should sell off those items in the attic. No good comes from them.”

You frown. “Why?”

“They’re trinkets that inspired the delusions of your grandfather - grandmother too, in the end. You should be rid of them. They have sour memories.”

“I love the attic,” you protest. “I loved when grandma took me up there.”

“I can’t make you do anything, but you should think about what I’ve said. Objects have a weird way of holding memories that warp the mind.” She lets go of your wrist. It’s the most she's ventured to imply that objects can be mystical in years. “Try not to get lost in the stories. They’re nothing more than that.” 

With a firm kiss on your head, she turns and walks away. People look at her as she passes by them, heads turned to watch her go. She has always had a magnetic beauty, drawing people to her wherever she went. Your grandmother had that same quality, moving about the world with an intense gravity. 

Your drive through the city is aimless. You have nowhere to be. Nothing to do. The music is so low that you turn it off, listening to the hum of the tires on the pavement. Your hands guide you on instinct until you’re driving through winding hills toward your grandmother’s house. It isn’t until you’re stepping out into the silver moonlight that you realize you’re there. 

Pulling your phone out, you text Namjoon the address. You’re supposed to meet for dinner, but you want to explore a little. The house will be less creepy with him around. 

The house is dark. There are no lights in the window as you close your car door, a noise so loud that it makes you flinch in the silence of the night. You don’t move for a while, just examining the house. Vine climbs up the side of the house and tangles in the eaves. There’s a porch on the front, a single swing still hanging. Above it is a large balcony attached to your grandmother’s room, the furniture and plants still waiting for her return. 

Your eyes drift to the rounded front of the house - the reading room on the first floor, your room on the second, and the attic on the third. You used to have dreams about creatures slipping through the floor of the attic to come through your ceiling and fall on you while you slept. 

The dreams you had when you stayed with your grandmother were always strange. Filled with something other and always like you were waking from a memory, you sometimes recalled pixies and brownies creeping on the edge of your mind, speaking to you in hushed tones at the foot of your bed. 

Now, you’re alone without having one of those dreams in years. You walk up to the house, letting yourself in. It doesn’t feel like it’s yours, though it legally is. You cross the threshold and stare out at the dark home. Most of the things inside belong to you, a reality that seems far away. This will always be your grandmother’s home. It will always have her things. 

Your mother’s suggestion to sell off the items in the attic gnaws at you. Flicking the lights on in the home so you don’t feel so alone, you ascend the stairs. The clock in the reading room ticks loudly, a steady staccato as you climb the stairs, footsteps quieted by carpet. Your fingers trace the flowered wallpaper, some of the edges peeling where it meets the next panel. 

A memory comes to you and you smile. There was a time when you were around five that you got in trouble for drawing near the crown molding, sitting on the stairs with your Crayola and pressing the waxy tip into the wallpaper with vigor. Your grandmother had not been bothered and your mother was mildly annoyed until she saw the subject of your drawings: a warrior queen with stars in her hair.

You don’t remember what her and your grandmother fought about, but it had been loud and you waited in your room with tear-stained cheeks for it to be over. 

Hundreds of memories echo in the home. You feel them all as you open the attic door, looking up at the dark stairs. You flick the light up before taking the stairs carefully. They creak under your weight and you see the way the cobwebs dance as you walk by. 

The ceiling is low and you can see the little black spiders spinning away, wrapped up in their own machinations. You leave them to their spinning, sweeping your gaze around the room with a mix of excitement and sadness. It’s been years since you’ve been in the attic, and you don’t know where to go first. 

Following your own whims, you brush your finger along an old book collection. There’s dust on them, old folklore books and poems that your grandfather used to read often. Your grandmother had no interest in them when he passed, but she always kept them. Your finger tapped the cracked and aged spine of The Knight of the Cart, trailing to The Song of Roland. 

That one makes you smile. You imagine yourself as the Knight Roland, wielding his mighty sword Durendal, or sitting at the round table. 

A heavy chest with artfully crafted metal leaves and a gilded latch sits in the corner. You know it contains objects you were never allowed to see - a heavy lock keeps the polished leather lid shut. You go to it anyway - you’re sure there’s a key somewhere, perhaps in the safety deposit box you were given. Your fingers are curious as they trace the metal leaves. They're artfully done, with jewels set in, a green that is so vibrant you swear they’re emeralds. 

Your favorite part of the attic is the old school boudoir. You sit on the cushioned stool carefully, worried that the old wood will crack under your weight. The mirror is covered in dust. You carefully trace your finger through the dust, instinct guiding you before you realize what you’re doing. 

Mirrors can lead to other worlds your grandmother had whispered once. Maybe even different places of the afterlife. 

So you trace a single sentence on the mirror. I miss you. An oidche. 

You hope that wherever she is, your grandmother receives the message written in dust. 

Nudging around the items at the table, you pull open a drawer. Dust clouds out of it, making you wave your hand back and forth to try and clear it. Inside are some perfumes and a lethal looking letter opener. You take out the letter opener, eyebrows raised. It’s a little larger and heavier than normal - you dare to call it a dagger - with an ornate grip decorated with silver stars. The blade is thin and dark silver. 

Static crackles in the air. You feel something sizzle in your palm, sparking your skin. You yelp, dropping the letter opener to the floor. It clatters, but you ignore the dagger, looking at the palm of your hand. You swear theres a pink, faded outline where you gripped the handle, but when you blink, your hand is normal.

Picking up the letter opener from the floor, you put it back in the drawer. You start to close the drawer, but a velvet box captures your eye. You pull the midnight-blue box from the back of the drawer. It’s velvet and obviously a ring box. You pop it open, curious. A simple band of metal is inside, stars carved into the metal. You pull it from its snug seat in the box, holding it up toward the shotty light to examine it.

The band looks too large for your fingers. The metal is dark like the letter opener, almost black and yet shimmering somehow. The stars aren’t like the normal five-pointed drawings in popular media, but bursts that are all unique and beautiful in their own way. 

Experimentally, you slid the ring on your pointer finger on your right hand. It’s too loose at first - you blink in surprise. The attic is not brightly lit, but for a moment you swear the ring pulsed and grew smaller. It’s snug on your finger now, not too tight but not loose. You hold your hand up, admiring it. It isn’t full of diamonds or jewels, but there is something about it that glows from within. 

A tremor goes through you. You flinch and look around the room. You swear you felt something like a pulse of energy shiver through you and outward. The room is dark - your vision fades in and out for a moment as your eyes adjust from staring at the ring so much. 

Nothing seems amiss, but you feel… off. 

Shrugging you pull at the ring, ready to return it. The metal doesn’t come off. You frown and pull harder, but it doesn’t budge. You try a few more times, but the ring fits snuggly. You look at it again, frown deepening.

“What the fuck,” you mutter. 

No matter what you try, the ring won’t come off. You pull open other drawers, looking for lotion of some kind to help slide the ring off your finger. You find none. 

Something makes you acutely aware of the silence in the room. You look up at the mirror - it’s still dusted over, not showing a true reflection, but you see a figure in the corner near the door. Screaming, you shoot out of the seat and turn around, crashing backward into the boudoir. 

“Woah woah woah!” Namjoon holds his hands up in surrender, pushing himself against the wall. “Relax it's just me!”

“What are you doing here?!”

“You texted me to meet you!”

Oh yeah. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart and the sudden urge to vomit from the terror. You close your eyes, letting your breathing regulate. When you open them again, Namjoon is still waiting for you. You relax, letting the breath woosh from your lungs. 

“Sorry, I think I’m just paranoid,” you say finally. 

“House is a little creepy at night.”

“A bit.” Shrugging off the weird thoughts of the ring, you cross the attic and beckon for him to follow. “Let’s go, I’m starving.” 

-

After a few days, it’s easy to forget about the fact that the ring won’t come off. On closer inspection, it appears that it’s made of something like iron. At night, you lie in bed and stare at it, hand held above you. It seems to glow whenever the sun sets, coming alive in the night. 

Though you never feel the same pulse of energy you did the night you put the ring on, you feel something. You can’t put your finger on it, but it lingers in the night. Though you were always a night owl, a new kind of insomnia slowly begins to take over. You find yourself inspired the moment the sun vanishes from the sky to write, creating your grandmother’s stories into something else fuller, more expanded. 

You’re suffering from another battle of insomnia as you stand in the kitchen, sipping chamomile tea in the dark. The ring reflects the night light hauntingly. Your eyes drift to inspect it again, following unknown constellations mapped in the metal. 

There are seven stars on the metal, dotted carefully. Something prods your mind. You narrow your eyes, staring at the constellations. They suddenly look familiar, almost like a distant memory. It’s on the edge of your thought, lingering there as you rotate your hand, holding it close to your face to get a better view.

Seven stars. Each burst its own shape and size. Your frustration mounts like an itch you can’t scratch, a pressure building as you struggle to think of where you know this pattern from, where you know those stars. 

You blink and almost drop your tea. You set it down quickly and rush to the light in the kitchen, flicking it on and making yourself flinch. When your eyes adjust, you hold your hand up, mouth agape as you count the stars. 

One star for winter, the first in the skies

One star for spring, when winter dies

One star for summer, cold winter’s twin

One star for autumn, when the veil is thin

One star for day, the brightest glow

One star for night, when the world is slow

One star on high, to rule alone

The soft rhyme your grandfather used to whisper to you comes back to you with a wave of emotions. You clutch the counter, trying to catch your breath as the rhyme circles your mind over and over again.

The seven stars of the faerie realm. You remember both of them telling you about it, the way each star represented a court. Those stories were your favorite. Your grandmother always wove beautiful stories about the warrior princess of the Night Court who fell in love with a knight of the Summer Court. You remember their story, remember the way they united to banish the power of the High Court, an ancient court draining the power of the six courts.

Grabbing your keys, you don’t even think. Trees and headlights blur by as you drive to your grandmother's house, hands twisting on the steering wheel. Something settles over you - a sense of foreboding that begins to twist in your stomach. You know what you’re going to find. 

And yet when you run through the house and up to your old bedroom, falling to your knees to inspect the mural your grandmother has painted you, you’re surprised. The warrior princess with stars in her hair holds her sword high over her head, ring glowing on her finger with power. 

You look down at your hand. It’s the same ring. 

Rushing up to the attic, you’re already convincing yourself that you’re going mad. Your grandparents were huge storytellers - your father too. It was something so consuming to them, their world of fantasy and mythological creatures. You wanted nothing more than for it to all be real as a child. 

You think of the way your mother purged your home of stories and fantasy when your father passed. How she hated any time your grandmother filled your head with those lies and fantasies. Of the way your mother told you to toss the items in the attic out.

Maybe she was right. Maybe there is a madness that runs in your family, a sickness of the mind that weaves fantasies and makes you think they’re real. There is nothing wrong with your grandmother having a ring she’s painted in your old room. There’s nothing wrong with a ring that won’t come off - it happens all the time. 

Upstairs in the attic, you’re rooting around the bookshelf for the tiny journal your grandfather kept with poems and pages filled with his delicate, slanted writing. You don’t bother to turn the lights on, spying it and snatching it. You crack it open, the yellowed pages familiar as you pace, flicking through the pages. 

You find the entry you want, stopping your pacing to pause and read the poem over again. It’s there, the seven courts of faerie, all ruled by the powerful High Court. You trace the words, shaking your head. Their twisted imaginations are so much more than you could have thought. Their stories are so heavily intertwined that it feels… real, like some sort of past they have shared.

But that is not possible. You write children's novels, inspired by your grandmother’s bedside tales, but they are nothing more than that. You can’t… you can’t fall into delusion that this is real, that these little snippets of this world they spoke of are tangible. 

You know it is. You don’t know why, but the word real pulses through you like the steady beat of your heart. Real real. Real real. Real real. 

It’s all real. 

“Has this world erased any sense of self-awareness you have?” 

The voice makes you scream in surprise, clutching the journal to your chest as your heart beats so wildly you think it’s going to explode. The soft purr belongs to a man standing in the corner of the attic, staring at you with keen eyes. 

“Do not come any closer!” You scream at him, the first words that come to your mind. 

He looks amused. “You were always a brat, but you’re in no position to order me around anymore.”  

Every hair on the back of your neck stands on end. You stare at the man who stands with his hands behind his back in the corner of the attic. He looks entirely out of place - a shirt made of a soft material that is almost see-through hangs loose on his narrow frame. It’s the shade of cotton candy but somehow brighter. The collar is open, revealing smooth skin and layered necklaces with pearls and other small jewels. His pants are tight fitted, something similar to leather and tucked into supple boots. 

There is a circlet resting on his silver head - something that would look ridiculous in any other situation but now commands power. It looks right on him - makes him look otherworldly and deadly.

His eyes are green, nearly glowing in the shadow of the attic. He looks out of place here, a being that isn’t made for your world. He steps forward and it’s soundless. The aged and cracked floorboards don’t dare to make a sound under his feet, the dust of the attic doesn’t move.

A pretty face belies something dark. Something terrifying. His face is beautiful but alien, like something about the features are too sharp. You feel unsettled by him, heart hammering as he edges soundlessly to you, like the air doesn't stir when he moves.

He’s not human. That’s for sure.

Something pulses in you. You stare at the strange intruder, ethereal and lost in his eyes but there’s something else you can’t place. You fight the urge to cross the space to him, something pulling on you like an invisible force. Your breath quickens as you fight something that feels like a physical tether pulling you toward him.

He watches you. Silver hair delicately styled back, his circlet like moonlight spun among the strands. There’s jewelry dangling in his ears, more exquisite than you’ve ever seen. An emerald dangles delicately, reflecting light so much that it almost pulses. Your eyes drifted up the silver cuff, made in the style of vines to the top of his pointed ears.

Your breath is stuck in your chest. 

Faerie.

Your mind races to put together the pieces of the tales your grandmother told you, of a world not your own. A world with sugared candies and blood oaths, of drinks so sweet they’d kill you but music and dancing so wonderful you could cry. 

The faerie watches you, head cocked to the side, a predator examining its prey. You clutch the book tighter in your hands, knuckles bone white.

“Why do you look so afraid, Yvaine?” 

You suck in a sharp breath. This faerie knows your grandmother’s name - thinks that you’re her. You’ve been told countless times how much you look like her - young portraits nearly identical. 

Every story she ever told you as a child comes rushing back to you. The way she described a knight who loved her deeply, the way she learned to wield a sword and go on glorious adventures. 

The fae are fickle beings, she once told you. Cruel and intelligent, but with the capacity to love and create in ways that you can hardly imagine. Never trust them implicitly, and always keep your name close to your chest.

“You startled me,” you finally answer. If he knows your grandmother, perhaps he’s one of the good fae she spoke of. You try to relax visibly. “It’s not every day-old friend appear in attics.” 

His eerie eyes drop down to your hand, zeroing in on the ring on your finger. You cover your hand with your grandfather’s journal, shielding the ring from his view. His eyes flash and he smiles. It’s not kind - it’s something else entirely that makes you want to back away from him. 

The faerie tsks, siren eyes dragging back up to fix on your face. “You’re not Yvaine.” 

“What a ridiculous notion.”

He scoffs. “Nothing startled her, much less me. And,” he adds with a saccharine grin, “Yvaine would hardly call me a friend. Pray tell, who are you?”

“Grandma told me to never speak names to the fae.”

His smile sharpens, teeth on display. He is beautiful and terrifying. His teeth are too sharp and his smile is too big. When you blink, he looks normal again. Glamour, you realize.

The faerie tilts his head toward you. “A good piece of advice. How about I introduce myself first: You may call me Jimin.” His eyes go back to the ring you’re hiding. “And you’re wearing something that does not belong to you.” 

“Everything in this house belongs to me.”

“That ring is not from this house.”

“Well it’s where I found it.”

“It does not change the place of origin.”

“Finders keepers,” you sneer at him. 

He frowns. “I am unfamiliar with the meaning of that phrase. Is it perhaps a greeting among thieves?” 

“So you admit you’re a thief.” 

Jimin is so painfully beautiful that only your fear keeps you snapping at him. You retreat backwards slightly, bumping against the boudoir. You remember the letter opener, positioning yourself so that your hand is behind your back, slowly opening the drawer. 

“I’m many things, a thief among them.” His eyes are glittering as he walks around the room, observing the bookshelf. You take the distraction as a moment to put your hand in the drawer, searching for the letter opener. It’s missing. “Looking for something?” 

Your eyes shoot up. Jimin is standing in front of the bookshelf, letter opener in hand. Your anger flares through you and you feel an energy ripple through you again. Jimin’s face twists, becoming unsettled as you yell, “See, you are a thief!”

“This belongs to me. Show me your hand, girl.” 

“Give me my letter opener.”

He makes a sour face. “Letter opener? This knife has belonged to An Oidhche for millennia. It is hardly made for opening letters. It was my-”

“What did you just say?”

“For Makers sake,” he growls and moves forward across the attic. He’s fast, faster than your eyes can follow before he’s in front of you. He smells like orange blossoms and a summer’s night, nearly hypnotizing you. Up close he is so angelic that you fight the urge to sink to your knees and bow. “Give me that ring, girl, or I will rip it from your dead hand, allegiance to Yvaine be damned.” 

“An Oidhche - that’s what my grandmother called me.”

“Congratulations.”

“What does it mean?”

It seems Jimin has met his tolerance for you leaning away from him. He reaches for you, lightning quick. Before you can defend yourself, energy ripples out of you. It hits him and you smell something sharp and metallic as he’s stunned backwards, nearly losing his footing. He looks up at you, eyes round and plush lips open in surprise.

“There’s no way,” he whispers, his lip curling. Shocked, you look at the ring on your hand. It’s glowing, a tingling sensation vibrating up your hand. “Iron?” 

You use his shock to your advantage. Grabbing whatever you can reach, you launch items at Jimin. He’s fast, but not fast enough, his shock still dulling his senses. A bottle of perfume hits him in the head. He snarls, the sound feral and deep as you bolt past him. 

Jimin is quick to recover. There’s a soft whistling sound before you're ripped backwards, a loud thwack startling you. You turn your head to see that Jimin threw the dagger at you, catching your shirt and pinning you to the door. You scream in frustration, pulling at the dagger. It doesn’t give as Jimin smirks, swaggering toward you.

“You tried to kill me!” you scream at him, enraged. Whoever this faerie is, he is clearly not one of the nice ones your grandmother spoke of. “You fucking bastard.”

“Told you I’d pry it from your dead hands.”

Jimin is only a foot away from you. Your instincts scream. You don’t even think. You kick out with your foot, hitting him in the chest. He hardly moves, pain shooting up your shin as though you kicked a wall. It doesn’t stop you. You scream at him, kicking out the other foot, pushing against the door for leverage as you aim higher at his head.

Jimin catches your foot this time, yanking you and the door forward into him. You use the momentum to throw your head forward, slamming your forehead into his face. Jimin curses as pain explodes through your head, stars blinding you. 

Pain. Dreadful, swelling pain spreads through your head. You’ve never headbutt someone before, but it looks so easy when the Avengers do it. You’re dizzy, the room spinning on a crooked access. You go limp against the door, unable to focus on anything but the way you can barely focus on Jimin in front of you.

Your vision is hazy on the edges as he holds a hand up to his nose. It comes away crimson. His green eyes are glowing, brighter than they were before. He surprises you as he begins laughing, tilting his crimson and moonlight face up to the ceiling as he laughs, full-bellied. The sound is like trickling water, trilling and beautiful.

“Fuck, you are certainly of Yvaine's bloodline.” The words reach you like they’re spoken through syrup, sticky and slow. “I cannot believe you headbutt me. And you did it all wrong. You used half your brow bone- oh lovely.”

You feel Jimin’s hands smacking your cheek lightly. You can barely register the touch beyond the pain. You feel sick - you know you’ve damaged yourself. At the least you’ve given yourself a terrible concussion. You feel heavy as you blink, Jimin swimming in your vision.

Jimin reaches for the ring again. You moan, trying to ask him to stop, to leave you alone. He doesn’t. His fingers brush the ring and he curses, yanking his hands away from it. “Fuck,” he spits, nursing his fingers, now tipped red. “Hey – come on, are you alright? Girl? Don’t pass out on me.”

A part of you is smug knowing you’re going to do the exact opposite of what he asks. Because being left alone with him after he’s attacked you is the last thing you want to do, but your vision is fuzzy on the edges and you feel a voice sweeping toward you to swallow you whole. 

“Fuck off,” you manage to slur, going slack against the door and letting the darkness drag you down.

-

Lilac skies stretch overhead. The water around your ankles reflects the same color. There seems to be no horizon in any direction, making you spin in a slow circle. Your feet don’t disturb the warm water as you shift. 

It’s hard to tell what is up and down, forever twilight everywhere all at once. 

“Where am I?” you wonder out loud. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

You whip around at the voice. Your grandmother stands a few yards away from you, younger than you ever remember. She’s in a gauzy dress, the material swaying in a breeze that isn’t there. She looks beautiful, face glowing as cool, silver eyes regard you. 

“Grandma,” you whisper.

“We must be quick.” You take a step toward her and she shakes her head, holding a hand out to stop you. “You must not step further into the twilight. You do not belong here.”

“Where is here?” 

“The twilight between life and death. I felt your pull when you entered the In Between.”

“I’m dying?”

She shakes her head. “You’re at the space between worlds - the road between Faerie and Earth and other realms.” You swallow and nod. At least you’re not dying. “You are with Jimin.”

“He’s awful.”

Her smile is fleeting. She looks so much like the woman she painted on the walls of your bedroom - she is that woman. “Jimin is a product of his environment. Given the chance, he usually chooses the lesser evil, however he is ruthless when it comes to protecting what’s his. I am fond of him, in a way, but don’t mistake me - Jimin is cunning and not to be trusted. What is he after?”

“This.” You hold up your hand. Your grandmother’s eyes widen, and she takes a hesitant step forward. 

Suddenly, you’re freezing cold. You shiver, the tips of your fingers trembling with the biting cold.

“Oh Jimin, what are you doing?” Your grandmother whispers. In a rush, she says, “Get away from him as soon as you can. Don’t let him take you to the Night Court. He will portal you south of his court near Hoseok’s home. If he takes you to the Night Court, you will not escape. You must not let him introduce you to Seokjin – the faerie who can lie.”

Again, cold douses you and the world around you dulls. You feel yourself moving away from your grandmother, the twilight shaking itself free of you. You cling to the image, begging, “What? What is that supposed to mean? What is this ring?”

“It isn’t about the ring anymore,” her face is pained. “There are so many things I wish I could tell you - just get away from Jimin and don’t let him take you to Seokjin. Jimin won’t realize the mistake he’s making, he doesn't know that Seokjin isn't who he thinks – he doesn’t know Seokjin killed your grandfather-”

Freezing cold water burns your face. You sputter, gasping for air. You choke on the icy tendrils, wiping your eyes with numb fingers, shaking. The dream - the place of twilight between life and death - vanishes and you’re stuck somewhere unknown dripping with cold.

Jimin is crouched at eye level, hypnotizing face fixated on you. He looks perfect as ever - the blood is gone though it stains the collar of his gossamer shirt, and there’s no bruising. No evidence you hit him at all, wiping out any satisfaction you have.

The cold is so bad it claws at you, head throbbing where you headbutt him. There’s a dry, bitter taste in your mouth. You cringe, unsure why you’ve woken up with something like hangover mouth parching you. 

“Finally,” Jimin mutters. His hands come to cup your face. You flinch away from him, earning a curled lip and a feral growl as he forcibly holds you face, tilting you upward to examine your forehead. Your eyes go upwards to look at the sky and the breath leaves your lungs. “Swelling is going down. You’ll be fine in a moment - forced some tonic in your mouth. I’d apologize for the bitter taste in your mouth, but I’m not actually sorry.” 

You ignore the rude comment. The pull toward Jimin is there again, making you stare at him for a few moments in silence. He lets you, eyes wandering your face, though you can’t tell what he’s thinking.

True to his word, the pain begins to fade in your head. Jimin stands up next to you, trailing towards a massive horse. You gape. It’s beautiful with a midnight coat and dark, leather saddle. The horse’s mane and tail are silver like starlight, silky and smooth as Jimin adjusts the saddle.

“Your horse is beautiful.”

Jimin’s mouth twitches. “Thank you. Her name is Umbriel.”

You look up at the sky. Constellations and colors like you’ve never seen swirl above, the black sky saturated with purple and pink stars, swirling galaxies that make your head spin. It’s so beautiful you can’t look away.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper. You drop your gaze and look around. The forest is dark, but there are bioluminescent plants swaying in the breeze that smells like jasmine. A glowing, white butterfly brushes by you and you smile, despite yourself. “Everything glows?”

“It’s the Night Court,” Jimin grunts as though this is a huge fact you should have known. “Of course everything glows. Now get up.” 

Don’t let him take you to the Night Court. Your grandmother’s words ring in your head as you slowly stand. Your limbs are still cold. You spot a slow-moving stream a few feet away - perhaps the source of the freezing water Jimin doused you with several times. 

Jimin rolls his eyes when you stand, steady on your feet. He gestures to the horse. “Come on, human. We don’t have all day.”

“It’s night.”

“It’s only night here. But it is day in your scope of time.” 

“What direction is south?”

Jimin pointed behind you, face pulled into a sneer. “Do all human women ask such ridiculous questions? Now let’s-”

You don’t care what he’s saying. You pivot and run. Your shoes aren’t made for athletics - you’re still I fluffy slippers, leggings and a baggy sleepy shirt. The right shoe comes off and you leave it. The ground is soft under your feet, springy and damp. You lose the other shoe, arms pumping at your side as you race downhill. 

Colors blur on either side of you. You don’t hear Jimin behind you as you nearly trip over a vine. Your breath stings in your lungs and - 

A body slams into you. You screech as you crash into the bushes, the breath leaving your lungs. The world is a kaleidoscope of neon as glowing things flutter from the bushes, flying upward in panic as you wheeze in the bushes. Jimin’s grip on your wrists is like iron, pushing your hands into the foliage as he straddles your waist. 

The prince is gone. He is replaced with an angry, wild faerie, Jimin’s canines sharp as he snarls at you. There’s something alien about his face - he’s no longer the beautiful man who was standing in your attic. His eyes seem sharper and his features are too lupine to be anything but faerie, shocking you straight from panic to utter terror. You cringe away from him, screaming on top of your lungs. 

A hand clamps over your mouth as he growls at you to shut up. You squeeze your eyes shut, kicking underneath him and crying under the vice grip he has on your mouth.

This has to be a nightmare. You will yourself to wake up, for the weight of Jimin to vanish. You hope you’re just sleeping in your room, thrashing at the sheets as this strange nightmare continues.

Maybe your mother was right. There was some sort of twisted sickness in your family, an obsession of the mind with fantasy and creatures, and your mind is poisoned now. 

“You’re going to get us both killed if you don’t stop screaming,” Jimin seethes, his voice darker than you remember. You open your eyes as his grip on you lightens a fraction. He’s no longer the terrifying face he was a moment ago, but he’s serious as he lowers himself further to murmur, “The Dreadwolf is probably prowling about these parts. I’m not trying to hurt you.”  

Slowing your breathing, you try to run through your options. Jimin is faster than you and stronger than you- not to mention he has Umbriel at his disposal. He’s armed- you now see the dagger at his waist, next to a sword you did not see before. His grip on your wrist is bruising and he’s looking at you, waiting to see what you’re going to do. 

You’re not going to get away from Jimin. That much is clear. You swallow thickly.

You can’t remember the name Jimin. Your grandmother has talked about many names, but Jimin is unfamiliar to you. But you’re in the Night Court - Jimin said that himself. The place your grandmother told you not to let him take you to - or perhaps she meant it's a palace. 

The Night Court brings up a shiver as you gaze up at him. You remember your grandmother’s words, saying the Night Court is both the most beautiful and one of the deadliest places. A place where it is always night and glowing, full of magic and ancient fae. The Court of Mystery it is also known as - it is the second court to exist in Faerie after the High Court, home to the oldest fae. 

“Are you ready to listen to me?” Jimin’s voice is velvet again. It has a soothing effect on you and you melt into the ferns and nod. He removes his hand slowly, palm hovering over your bruised lips as he waits for you to scream again. “You cannot scream in the Night Court,” Jimin murmurs. A micro-expression you cannot decode flits across his face for a moment as he brushes your hair from your face. “There are things that live off of screams here. I don’t wish to introduce them to you.”

“Don’t you want me dead anyway?” you shoot back. 

His face doesn’t show a single reaction. “I don’t want to hurt you at all. But if you fight me, I’m going to have to. I don’t… know how else to do what I need to do.”

“Maybe try telling me what you need and being partners instead of kidnapping me?”

Jimin doesn’t answer for a moment. “I won’t kill you. I believe Yvaine will haunt me into eternity if I kill you. Grandmother, you called her?” You nod. His eyes are searching your face. “You have her beauty - not her eyes, though. What was your grandfather's name?” 

You hesitate. “Oberon.” 

Pain. Acute pain flickers across Jimin’s face as he rolls off you. It’s so fast you blink in surprise, a world of stars and sky greeting you. Jimin is several feet away from you, running a hand over his face. For a moment, you just watch him. His composure slips for only a second - and then he’s facing you again, giving you an impatient expression, hand on his hip. 

“By all means,” he gestures. “Lay in the ferns. You should know that you crashed into a massive web of spiders.” 

Alarmed, you roll to your feet, brushing yourself off anywhere you can reach. You hop around barefoot and disheveled, running your hands through your hair trying to free it from any creepy crawlies. Jimin whistles and beckons you. “There weren’t really spiders there, but at least you’re on your feet.” 

“I thought the fae couldn’t lie.” 

He arches his brows as you approach him. “So you do know of the fae.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

“I didn’t lie. I said you crashed into spiders - I wasn’t specific about where and when. It was when we portaled here, landed right on the web earlier. I omitted the time.”

“Art of deception,” you mumbled. “Where are we going and what do you want with me? I’d give you this stupid ring if I could, but it won’t come off.” 

His smirk is rueful as he gestures to the horse. Though he’s shorter than Namjoon and floats like a wraith, he’s still taller than you. Dancer thin, but strong, muscles moving under his breeches and - you drag your eyes up, face red at the way you were drawn to the tight pants. 

“It won’t come off unless its maker takes it off you.” 

“Then why did you try?” 

“I had to be sure it was the ring I was searching for.” 

“What does a faerie want with an iron ring anyway? Isn’t it like kryptonite to you people?”

Umbriel is far too tall for you. You put your hand on the horn of the saddle, struggling to lift your foot. Jimin grabs you by the waist and lifts you like you’re nothing, placing you on the horse. He frowns as he hauls himself up behind you, setting your cheeks aflame and heart racing. “Like what?” 

“You don’t spend much time on earth, do you? Kryptonite - the one thing that can kill superman.” 

“He doesn’t sound very super if this… kryptonite can kill him. Iron won’t kill me, it just hurts.” He lifts his chin slightly. “And of course I don’t visit earth. I’m a crown prince of the Night Court, the Evening Star and heir to the High Throne of Faerie.” 

“Oh.” 

You’re not surprised - Jimin was obviously a prince. But of the Night Court - and the High Court? From what you can recall, the High Court had long since been removed as the seat of power in Faerie. There had been a dark king who was abusing his power over the courts. That power had been taken away - by your grandmother and a knight of the Summer Court, if your grandmother’s tales had been truthful. 

So did that mean… your eyes dart down to the ring, thinking about the way it showed the seven stars of the courts. The pulse of power you felt when you put it on, the way Jimin said the ring was his... 

A nasty feeling twists in your gut as you swallow, knowing there is only one reason Jimin could want the ring so desperately as the heir to the High Throne. 

“This ring has the power of the old High King, doesn’t it?” Jimin says nothing. He clicks his tongue, urging the horse forward. “Why else would you want it - as an heir? You said it was yours…” 

“It does - and it is.” 

“Then why is it made from iron?”

He sneers. “Because your grandmother is a clever little witch.” 

“She was not a witch!”

“You're right. She was a wicked little half-fae who became a hero.” He heaves a sigh. You feel the air expand in his chest before he lets it out. “But look where we are now, living the consequences of her actions. Her fix, however noble, was temporary and made without thought of the future. Of my future.” 

“My-” you shake your head. “My grandmother was not half-fae. She was human, like the rest of my family.” 

“Of course she was. Why do you think she lived in Faerie at all? Where did she get her gifts? Or how does she have fae artifacts in that creepy little room? The only reason you lived portaling here is because you’re part fae.” 

“Me?” 

“Is there an echo out here? Yes you - do you know nothing about her? You know things about the High Court and you don’t seem completely perplexed about where we are, but you know nothing of your history? Your grandmother was the bastard daughter to the old king of the Night Court and your grandfather was Oberon, one of the greatest knights this realm has ever seen. Ever.” 

You blanch. “We’re related?” 

“What?” He seems disgusted, pulling away from you slightly. “No - King Samar was not my father. Yvaine was whelped by Samar and a human housemaid whose name no one remembers. Queen Eun was my mother. My father was…” Jimin searches for the words. “King Malik of the High Court. He was once the High King of Faerie.” 

“Oh.” 

Silence as you ride. You picture your grandmother and father as… fae. It seems both ridiculous and yet, your instincts don’t rebel at the thought. You think about how you’ve always had dreams of strange places and creatures. How sometimes things happened around your grandparents that didn’t make sense - you always blamed it on your overactive imagination. 

“I didn’t know that about them,” you murmur. “They were only ever human to me.” 

“Well, settle in. You’re about to learn plenty about your family tree.” He glances at you. “You still haven’t given me a name.” 

You hesitate and decide to give him only your first name. He nods after hearing it, humming. “Beautiful,” he says so softly you almost don’t hear him. He doesn’t give you time to second-guess the compliment. “Sleep if you wish, Umbriel and I will not let you fall. We have a bit of a ride to Hoseok’s cabin where we can rest.”

-

You can’t sleep. You settle for uneasy silence, watching the world around you. You spot pixies and dryads floating between trees, and you hear things skitter underfoot.

Once in a while, Jimin reroutes Umbriel. Once, he even hissed at a dark alcove as you passed a copse of trees. The trees grow thicker, moving downhill as you enter a forest proper.

It’s hard to stay focused when you’re pressed against Jimin – he’s warmer than you expected, and he smells like orange blossom and late nights. 

You don’t care. You remind yourself that he’s a liar – in fae terms. And he’s kidnapped you, despite the draw you feel to him and despite his beautiful face.

The world around you has your attention instead.

The sky is a mystery in itself, shifting colors of dark twilight. You can’t get over how it looks like the entirety of space and all of the worlds are suspended above you, shifting with the ebb and flow of the aurora borealis back in your home realm.

Everything around you is both dark and glowing. The shadows are thicker and longer, but the world is line with soft color. Your hands brush branches as you ride – flowers vanish into their stalks at the touch of your fingers, lichen grows bright green at the heat of your hand.

“Stop touching the trees. You’ll wake them and I’ll have to threaten them to keep our passing to themselves.

You frown. “For a prince you’re not very nice. Aren’t you supposed to be polite to your subjects?”

“They aren’t my subjects,” Jimin snaps. “The Night Court answers to my adoptive brother.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you-"

“No. My mother, who was my only claim to the throne is dead. Jin lets me act as an emissary because I am little threat to him. He’s a Shade- only true heirs of the Night Court command the shadow flame.”

“Is he nice?”

Jimin doesn’t answer your question.

Instead, he offers, “The High Court are my people by blood. They’re why I need that ring that refuses to come off of your finger. Without the power of their court, they’re dying. Their lands are poisoned and being consumed, and neighboring courts are taking advantage of that. They’re-” He breaks off and growls, the sound vibrating through your back. “They’re hurting the high fae and they’re abusing them. I want that power back. Not for me, but for the faeries who are dying without it.”

“Isn’t that power what got them hurt in the first place because it was abused?”

“King Malik was sick. He didn’t deserve the power of the High King, but what’s happening in his abandoned lands isn’t right.” Jimin’s knuckles are bone white on the reigns. “A court is only as strong as the power in their lands. They High Court has nothing and no one, and the only heir of Malik doesn’t have so much as a drop of high fae glamour.”

“Oh. You weren’t born with it?”

“It was taken from me the same day it was taken from my father.”

Sadness stirs in the pit of your stomach. On one hand, Jimin seems to generally want you out of harm's way, despite his actions. Though he can deceive, the root of his goals is to protect his people. It’s obvious he cares for them, the way he grows angry at the thought of their suffering.

“You pity me.”

It wasn’t a question, but you shake your head. “I just wonder what you could have been if things weren’t taken from you. You sound like you have the potential to be kind.”

Jimin says nothing.

Instead, there’s a long, terrible howl that shatters the night. You suck in a sharp breath as Jimin stops Umbriel, who begins dancing back and forth nervously as Jimin swivels in the seat. The howl lowers, but the world feels colder now. A breath of wind tickles your face, blowing your hair northward.

“Fuck,” Jimin swears, turning in the seat. He wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes you to his chest. “Hold on to me. The Dreadwolf knows we’re here.”

Umbriel takes off faster than any horse you’ve ever ridden. Her hooves are like thunder, echoing in the forest as the world moves past you impossible fast. You dig your fingers into Jimin’s arm around your waist, letting him hug you as the horse picks up speed, guiding herself through the trees with little nudging from Jimin.

Panic begins to seize you when you hear the howl again – it’s further away, you think. You’re not sure, clutching to Jimin and trying not to unseat yourself as you turn to look over your shoulder.

“Sit still!” Jimin snaps.

You obey.

The rubbing of the saddle chafes you as Jimin navigates through the forest. The world drops dramatically into a dell, and he slows the pace, navigating Umbriel carefully down the slope. You feel him turn around for a moment, but you don’t dare look behind you. It feels like it’s been almost an hour since you’ve heard the Dreadwolf.

The name sounds so familiar and yet… you’re unable to place the label of something so dark that it scares Jimin.

A tiny, log home sits on the edge of the dell’s rise. Green smoke curls out of the chimney, the lights inside the windows a muted gold. Jimin leads the horse around the home, soundless. He stops at the front of what you suppose is the yard, sliding off gracefully and helping you down. You almost thank him but decide against it as he murmurs to Umbriel in a language you can’t understand. She takes off running and you make a sound of distress.

“She’ll lead the Dreadwolf away.” Jimin looks at you as he walks towards the steps leading up to the home. “Don’t worry – he won’t harm Umbriel. He’s rather fond of animals. If he so much as hurts my horse, I’ll give him hell.”

You scramble after him, trying to mute your steps as you cast your eyes to the owl watching on top of the roof. It’s so black it’s nearly invisible. You wouldn’t have seen it if not for two glowing eyes of gold.

At the front of the home is a small porch. There are plants hanging from the eaves and lining the windows. A small chair next to a table ringed with water stains stands alone.

Jimin raps his knuckles on the door thrice. There’s silence surrounding the home, the unsettling kind that has you shifted from foot to foot. The owl on the roof hoots loudly, making you flinch. Jimin eyes you from the side but says nothing, lifting his hand to knock again when the door opens suddenly.

“You’ve brought the Dreadwolf to my lands,” a hushed voice says. Jimin yanks you inside the cabin.

Quickly you feel warmth seep into your bones. You don’t realize how cold your extremities are until you feel the heat of the fire. You’re drawn to it, holding out your hands to feel the licking warmth of the green flames.

“These aren’t your lands,” Jimin huffs.

“I tend to them when your brother does not. Therefore – my lands.”

“Sounds like the human’s ridiculous phrase of finders keepers.”

You turn your head to look at the stranger whose home you’re now in – he has on a cloak and he’s rushing about the house shuttering the windows and blowing out the candles. It’s a small room with a single bed, a kitchen table, and a humble kitchen. There’s a door that leads to another tiny room, but it’s firmly shut as the man rushes past you to shutter the windows facing the dell.

All that remains is the green fire – dimmer than you remember it being – and a single orb of fire hovering over the man’s shoulder.

When he turns to greet you, your breath gets stuck in your throat. Like Jimin, he’s wonderful to look at. Smooth skin and high cheekbones, kind eyes that are playful and light brown. His ears are tipped with the sharpness of the fae and when he gives you a quick smile, you see the pointed teeth. Still, he does not terrify you the same way Jimin does.

“They call me Hoseok, though you may call me Hobi.” He bows at the waist before meeting your eyes with a smile. “I apologize we must meet under such circumstances.”

“And what are those circumstances?” Jimin asks. You glance at him over your shoulder. He’s lounging in the bed, legs spread wide as he gives Hobi a pointed glare while leaning back on his hands. He is every bit the arrogant prince now and yet… painfully beautiful. “Go on, Hobi.”

“Ignore him. I usually do,” Hobi says to you. He brushes past you and touches your shoulder gently. “Let’s get you a change of clothes.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Um – you can call me Y/N.”

“Oh I know,” he assures you. He opens a heavy trunk at the foot of his bed. Jimin watches with a silent glare and something verging on a pout. You’re pleased by this, for some reason. “You look just like Yvaine.”

“Why do you know her name?”

“I know more than you, Your Highness. That’s what watchers do – we watch.” Hoseok stands, clothes folding in his hands. He holds them out to you. “It’s spider silk,” Hoseok explains. “Tough, but light enough to travel quickly. The cloak is lined with fur – you’ll find it warm but light. You can change in the washroom.”

You don’t accept the clothes, eyes flicking up from the clothes to him. “They are lovely, but I don’t accept this gift.”

Hoseok lights up like a fire, smiling at you as he looks at Jimin, laughing with unfiltered glee. You’re unsure why he’s so happy – you’ve rejected his gifts in an attempt not to bind yourself to him. Another lesson from your grandma: never accept gifts from the fae. Acknowledge that they are lovely, and politely decline to accept them.

“She knows of the fae?” Hoseok asks Jimin, turning to you. “I offer these with no bargain, Y/N. These are gifted freely with no favors or debts do. I swear it.”

You hesitate. Jimin groans. “Faeries cannot lie, human.”

With a growl, you accept the clothes and storm to the washroom.

The moment you close the door to the small washroom, you hear whispering on the other side of the door. Hoseok sounds angry - you can’t make out what they’re saying, but even after thirty minutes of spending time with Jimin, you can recognize the softness of his voice. 

A shiver wracks your spine unbidden. You shove away thoughts of the prince just beyond the door and turn to look in the small mirror framed with antlers. You look disheveled and dirty. There is a slight bruise on your forehead, but Jimin was right - there’s no lump from where you tried to headbutt him.

The thought makes you smile. Causing him any amount of grief has quickly become your favorite thing to do. You don’t hate anyone that you can think of, but you already hate Jimin. Hate the way he ambushed you, hate the way he spoke to you, hate the way he looked down on you.

But most of all, you hate that he’s kidnapped you and brought you to Faerie- and that it excites you above all else.

Your grandmother told you terrifying stories of human children taken from their bed and replaced with faerie changelings. The children would be brought to Faerie and used as slaves and thralls, pretty pets for faeries to look at and taunt as long as the human lived - which was longer than usual, in Faerie - and how they lived lives both terrible and wonderful.

You couldn’t imagine being raised in a world like this - beautiful, surrounded by so much delicate beauty but filled with so much violence. And you know there is violence ahead. 

Hoseok hasn’t just given you soft leather breaches lined with a thin layer of wool and a long, black tunic - he’s given you a leather belt with a small dagger buckled to it. You slide the breaches on, raising your brows in surprise. They fit perfectly, if not a little long in the ankle. The tunic is long and green, embroidered with gold thread in swirling designs you realize are flames. Your fingers trace the fire on the sleeve.

The cloak is wonderful, thick to keep out the cold but light as a feather. In a sweeping motion, you tie it at your throat. Your hair is tangled, making you pull it up high in a ponytail and out of your way. 

You leave the dagger for last, carefully balancing it on the edge of the sink as you take time to wash your face. The water is freezing cold, burning your skin the same way the water had from the stream. There’s a soft linen rag and you use it to dry your face before glancing back up in the mirror. Not perfect, but doable. 

With curious fingers, you pull the unadorned hilt from the weapons belt. The blade is nothing special. It’s made from the same dark metal as the knife Jimin has taken from you. You have no idea how to use it, but a strong piece of advice from Game of Thrones comes to you: Stick them with the pointy end. 

It’s a good piece of advice, you think as you slide the dagger back home. The leather belt is snug around your waist. You’re unsure if Jimin knows Hoseok gave you the knife - somehow you think Jimin wouldn’t appreciate you being armed - so you hide it with your cloak. 

When you step out of the washroom, Jimin straightens on the bed. He goes quiet as Hoseok moves about the small kitchen, green eyes only for you. You swallow and shut the door behind you. 

Jimin’s gaze is unreadable. He stands and crosses the space to you, steps gentle. You freeze in place - not out of fear, but out of the way you feel the pull to him again. You clench your teeth, hating that something deep in the pit of your heart draws you toward him. 

You think it’s because of how beautiful he is. The siren eyes as he stops in front of you, eyes dipping up and down. The sultry curve of his sinful mouth frowning slightly. You avert your eyes, feeling heat creep up your next at his proximity and the tiny displeasure in his expression. 

“You were not made for Summer Court colors,” Jimin whispers. You glance at him, surprised. He brushes his fingers against the flames on the sleeve peeking out from your cloak. “You belong in midnight blue and silver.” 

Jimin doesn’t give you a moment to ask what he means. He drops his hand and brushes past you, joining Hoseok in the kitchen. 

Warily, you watch the two of them prepare a meal. They move in sync, leading you to believe they’re old friends. You hesitantly sit in a chair by the bed, eyes fixed on the pair of them. Jimin, though mostly polite and a bit cold, smiles more when Hoseok murmurs something to him.

Hoseok himself is like fire and warmth. He feels the room with a brightness than you can appreciate, and you feel like if your grandmother knew him, he was one of the good fae that she spoke about. She never mentioned many names, but you wish she had told you about Hoseok.

Other names you’re familiar with. King Samar of the Night Court – ancient and ruling for hundreds of years. Your grandmother always spoke his name with a hushed fear and a faraway look. You imagine now that she was remembering a father – a father, as it seems, who had little time or desire for her.

King Malik is a name you know even more. The High King of Faerie, who ruled for so long that he became mad. If your grandmother's stories were true, the death of his one true love began driving him to madness. He became obsessed with resurrection and violating the afterlife, looking for ways to bring back the woman he loved.

Your eyes trail to Jimin, who is rolling his eyes at something Hoseok says.

Eun. You realize the woman that King Malik went mad over is Jimin’s mother. Despite having a bad taste in your mouth for the prince, you feel yourself soften. It must be difficult, to lose one parent and the other go mad. What you don’t understand is how your grandmother came to take his father’s power, and how his father ultimately came to pass.

The High Court had dispersed after his passing, either becoming solitary faeries or joining other courts.

You wonder if Jimin knew them well. He had said the Night Court were not his subjects…

“Dinner is ready!” Hoseok chirps. “And don’t worry,” he adds at your wary look. “It’s not going to spell you to dance until your feet are blood stumps or sing until your bleeding from your throat.”

“Is that real?” you ask, inhaling the scent of the spiced stew.

“Of course it is,” Jimin answers around a mouthful of cheese. “On Beltane we make the humans-”

Hoseok hits Jimin in the back of the head so hard the prince chokes on the cheese. You widen your eyes as Hoseok levels a glare as he sits down at the small table, pulling a chair out for you. His burning gaze is on Jimin as he says, “We don’t do that anymore.”

Jimin says nothing, glowering as he bites into his bread.

After that, dinner is held in relative silence. Hoseok asks you about your life and your heritage, but you answer in hesitant pieces. You’re still not sure what you’re doing here or what is expected of you. To his credit, Hoseok never asks about the ring on your finger. Never even looks at it.

By the end, you’re full and satiated, drowsy as you help Hoseok with the dishes while Jimin peers out of a curtained window. When you’re done, wiping your hands dry, Jimin gestures to the bed. “Sleep. We have a long ride in a few hours.”

“I thought you said it was day. Shouldn’t I stay awake?”

Hoseok shakes his head, answering, “Asleep at true night in the Night Court is a bad idea if you’re not in court proper. It’s okay.”

Jimin scoffs, but you feel comforted. Hoseok leads you to the small bed, giving you blankets and a cup of tea before he joins Jimin in the kitchen, their conversation too quiet for you to hear.

The tea makes you sleepy. You fight it, too nervous to fall asleep. The bed dips suddenly next to you, making you flinch and open your eyes. Jimin murmurs and apology. Perhaps you’re already dreaming – you imagine that he brushes your hair back as he sits on the edge of the bed and murmurs, Sleep. I won’t let anyone hurt you.

As you drift, you believe the only one who can hurt you is him.

-

A long howl wakes you up. You shoot forward in bed, panting and searching in a fright. You find them both silent and near the window facing the dell. Hoseok looks at you and holds a finger to his lips, then beckons you. A nervous tingle goes up your spine as you cross the space hesitantly, taking place next to Hoseok. Jimin glances at you around Hoseok, frowning.

Perhaps that makes you a fool. You know how easy it is for the fae to deceive humans with false niceties. But there is something about his aura that feels warm. Standing next to him, he smells like citrus and blossom, the same way your grandfather used to smell.

The realization makes your eyes watery, and you glance at him as Jimin peaks out the window. “Are you Summer Court?” you whisper, voice barely audible. Hoseok looks shocked, nodding his head. “You smell like my grandfather.” 

He nods and whispers, “Oberon.”

“Shut up,” Jimin hisses and closes the window. “The Dreadwolf approaches.”

Something deep within you curls in fear.

Suddenly, you remember the name. The Dreadwolf was one of the darker parts of your grandmother’s tales. A faerie loyal only to the king of the Night Court, he was a servant and hunter to the king. Merciless and terrifying, the Dreadwolf could shift forms into a large, black wolf, hunting his prey to the ends of the realms.

Your grandmother assured you that he never lost his prey. Ever. 

Anxiety began to chew at your stomach. Jimin softly walked the circumference of Hoseok’s home, his eyes focused somewhere else, as though he were watching the wolf through some other lens. Your heart skipped in a nervous rhythm, moving from foot to foot as the silence pressed in. 

Jimin stopped walking in front of the door to the home.

Sensing your eyes on him, Jimin looks over his shoulder at you. His eyes are dark green, shining at the bottom of a deep lake. His eyes flicker for a moment before he looks at Hoseok and murmurs, “I apologize, Hoseok. I hoped to avoid going to the palace but...”

Hoseok looks as confused as you do when Jimin opens the door to the home. Hoseok makes a startled sound but Jimin is stepping outside, calling “Jungkookie,” Jimin calls as he looks back at the pair of you - regret flashes so quickly on his face, you’re sure you imagined it. “The watcher has found what we’ve been looking for. Don’t touch the girl or I’ll skin you.” 

“You fucking bastard,” Hoseok swears, unsheathing his dagger. You do the same, holding it awkwardly in your hand as Jimin steps to the side of the doorway, refusing to look at you. “They will kill me.” 

A deep growl comes from somewhere outside. It’s low, like the churning of hell underneath your feet, the house trembling. Your heart pounds faster as Hoseok shoves you behind him. “You cannot fight here. Go through the window behind us. Run south.”

A figure enters the doorway. Your breath rushes out of your lungs as you stare at the fae in front of you. Black hair hanging in his dark eyes, broad shoulders and ripping muscles. There are dark marks running down his arm, tattoos of glyphs and swirling ink that you can’t decipher. He’s much taller than Hoseok and Jimin, and his eyes are focused on you. He is impossibly handsome, your heart flipping. 

“Hello,” his voice is phantom soft. “Come out from behind Hoseok, won’t you?” 

A flash of blinding heat and flame erupts from the fireplace in the direction of Jungkook. You scream as you turn and bolt for the window. Hoseok is shouting something at Jungkook as he wields flame behind you, a fiery whip in his hand. Jungkook snarls, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. 

You sheath your dagger, clambering onto the dinner table and pulling the window open. You haul yourself through it, trying not to panic with the sounds of snarling and yelling behind you. You freefall for a moment until you hit the ground and roll. Your breath is knocked out of you for the second time that night, leaving you wheezing and holding your arm, sore from absorbing the fall. 

Crawling to your feet, you look up as a shadow looms over you. Jimin frowns. “You’re not very graceful.” 

You don’t think. You let survival instinct take over, ripping out the dagger from your belt and swiping at him. Jimin backs up, dancing away from you with a twitch of his lips. “He gave you a dagger?” 

“You betrayed him.” 

“Court is a game of betrayal, get used to it. Hoseok will be fine. Jungkook won’t kill him.”

“I thought perhaps you were different than you first appeared. Turns out I was wrong – do you even care about your people or was that another twist of words?”

Something like rage heats his face. You manage to get to your knees and swipe out again. Jimin dances away from you as a sharp, animal cry comes from the house. Jimin looks at the window, brows raised. “Good for Hoseok, sounds like he managed to wound the pup.” 

Jimin may not be able to lie directly, but he’s a deceitful bastard. He almost had you, telling you that he was worried about his people, that the absence of the High Court was poisoning the land. Now you knew what he really wanted - the ring, the power at your hand. For his selfish purposes, for the Night Court. 

On your feet now, you feel a tremor in your hand. Energy lights you up from the inside out. It’s a familiar sensation, one you felt when you put the ring on or when you touched the dagger you found in the drawer. It’s something like rage, hot and crackling. You remember how the ring defended you and channel it, launching a hand at Jimin. 

A dark flame ripples up your arm, and though it doesn’t burn you, you can feel a hot, decaying heat. You thrust your hand outward, urging the flame to shoot out at Jimin. It obeys, a blast of black fire licking toward him. He rolls away from it easily, the flame hitting a tree and turning it to… ash. Your face whitens as you drop your hand in shock. Jimin is on his feet again, surprised with his mouth parted. The flame dances along your arms, tingling your skin as you stare at the grayed ash of the tree. 

“Interesting,” Jimin murmurs. “You’re going to have to learn to control that, Shade.”

Somewhere you can’t see, Jungkook snarls loudly, followed by silence. Your flame gutters out immediately, thinking the worst. Terror shoots through you for Hoseok, for yourself.

“For what it’s worth,” Jimin murmurs softly, “I have no desire to hurt you. None at all. I apologize, but this is the only course of action. I wanted to take you to the Winter Court, but we have a new plan. I'm sorry.” 

Before you can figure out what he means, Jimin is in front of you, slamming you to the ground so hard it feels like the world shatters. 

The world fades. 

-

You drift. You search for that place of forever twilight but cannot find it. Your thoughts are nothing at all. They drift, unable to form memories and strings of ideas. You struggle in the space where you drift, unable to remember where you are or where you’re going. What you’re doing, or who you’re with.

There is dull pain. It might be your head, it might be your heart, it might be your toe. You don’t know where the pain comes from, but there is pain as you drift. 

Sometimes you feel almost awake. Other times there’s nothing- not even pain. 

Time is meaningless as you drift. You don’t know how long you’re in that space where there is nothing, but slowly your thoughts connect. You can identify it’s your head that hurts - and the rest of your body throbs. There’s a dullness to your senses like fog - you no longer feel that pulsing energy you located to try and fend off Jimin.

It’s just cold and muted.

With a groan, you open your eyes. It’s dim in the room, a single purple light burning low at the far corner. Your tongue feels heavy, your mouth like sandpaper. Movement in the corner of the room catches your eye. Fear seizes you as you push yourself away from the dark figure. You push yourself into a corner of the cot you’re on, sheets tangling you.

“Hey,” a familiar voice murmurs. “It’s me.”

Blinking away the blurriness on the edge of your vision, you realize it’s Hoseok. 

You’re both in a small room with two cots, end tables next to each. There is a tiny rug covering the stone floor, and a heavy wooden door without a handle. The purple light follows Hoseok - you realize it’s a tiny purple flame, licking the air and snapping next to his shoulder. A pair of glowing, white eyes blink to life in the flame and you squeak, wide-eyed and pushed against the wall. 

“Oh yeah,” Hoseok grins, looking at the fire. “I didn’t introduce you at the house because Jimin was there. This is Flare. He’s a fire spirit.” 

“Hello, Flare,” you croak, voice like sandpaper. Still, Flare snaps and pops with happiness, glowing pink at the edges for a moment. 

Hoseok rushes to your end table, grabbing a waterskin and passing it to you. You take it with greedy hands, uncorking it and chugging the cool water. It calms your throat immediately, earning a sigh. “Thanks.” You wipe the water running down your chin with the back of your hand. “Are you okay?”

You look at Hoseok - really look at him. His brown hair is matted and dirty, and there’s a bandage on his neck darkened with blood. You panic, sitting forward to tend to him when he holds a hand with a kind smile. “Already taken care of. That dog almost killed me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Jimin is a traitorous bastard and Jungkook gets too enthusiastic. It isn’t the first time he’s bitten me.” 

“I thought you were friends.”

Hoseok snorts. “You never know where you stand with Jimin. He does everything on his own, that clever little mind of his making plots within plots. I think he did what was best in the moment, which meant letting Jungkook take us.”

“Why be friends with him at all, then?”

Hoseok looks sad when he glances at you. “Because he wasn’t always this way. Jimin is a product of his environment. He makes decisions that he thinks are best for his people, even if it puts friends in danger. His intentions are pure, his methods are brutal. But he is a prince of his people, for what it’s worth.” 

You think about that. It sounds like what your grandmother had told you. He is a product of his environment. You assume they’re talking about the Night Court. You think of the brief warmth in Jimin’s face in Hoseok’s home - those had not seemed fabricated, but you knew the fae were famous for mimicking emotion.

It really had been a ploy.

Knowing that bothers you more than you expect. You’ve only known Jimin a day, but something about him being exactly as you expected is incredibly disappointing. You fell for it just like he knew you would, and you’re all the dumber for it.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Hoseok sighs, settling next to you on the cot with his back against the wall. “He may yet still be an ally, who knows. It’s hard to tell what his plans are.” 

“I don’t care what his plans are. I just want to go home.”

“You’re going to have to accept that going home is not an option.” 

“I have people there who are going to freak out that I’m missing.” 

Namjoon. Your mother. Your editor. The list is small, but it’s still a list of people who will look for you.

“Time moves differently here,” Hoseok explains. “What feels like a year in faerie might only be a minute in your world.” He glances sidelong at you. “That being said, I won’t tell you there is a guarantee that you’ll ever go home again. My best advice is to learn how to survive her first. Focus on home later.”

It’s an honest piece of advice. You know this, but it doesn’t hurt any less. You lean against the wall and close your eyes, feeling the urge to cry twist in your throat. If Hoseok notices, he doesn’t say anything. He lets you grieve in silence, mulling over the series of events that have landed you here in a room with him, held against your will.

You lift your hand, examining the ring. It glimmers in the dark, the seven stars looking at you. Tentatively, you pull at it again - it still doesn’t come off. You sigh heavily, dropping your hand to the bed. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask softly, not looking at Hoseok but staring at the door. He nods. “This gives me power, right?” You hold up your hand, showing the ring. “I turned a tree to ash with a black flame. Was aiming at Jimin, though.”

Hoseok leans forward. You glance at him to see his brows knit, head tilted. “You summoned shadow fire?” You nod. “Huh. That is not a power of the High Court. That’s a gift unique to King Samar. You’re his descendent, though.” 

You pale. You hadn’t thought of that when Jimin told you of your grandmother’s heritage. You look up at the ceiling, chewing on the new information. You’ve never done something like that before. When you tell Hoseok as much, he seems lost in thought. 

“Have you touched anything beside the ring that was new? Anything that felt powerful?” 

You’re about to tell Hoseok no when you remember the spark of power you felt when you had picked up the dagger that Jimin now has at his waist. “The dagger,” you whisper. Hoseok looks confused so you elaborate, “There was a dagger in a drawer I thought was a letter opener. Jimin has it - he said it’s belonged to the An Oidhche for millennia.” 

“It’s your grandmother’s.” Hoseok smirks, leaning back against the wall. “A gift from Jimin’s mother to Yvaine on her birthday - a way to tell Yvaine that Eun didn’t hate her. Even if Eun wasn’t her mother.” 

“No wonder he didn’t give it back.”

“When you touched it, you unbound your power. Similar to the ring, but not nearly as powerful as a spell. Have you experienced any other powers?” You shook your head. “Hm. If you learned, you might be quite the fighter.” 

Silence envelops you. Flare floats closer to you, hovering near your face. You smile a little, feeling his warmth as you hold a finger out. He dances around your point finger before settling on the tip, balanced like a small bird. He makes a chattering noise and changes color, turning to a blush pink.

“He likes you,” Hoseok murmurs. “He’s afraid of most Night Court fae.”

“Why?” 

“They are dark.” 

You don’t ask him to elaborate. Instead, you welcome the silence. 

So much has happened in a few hours. You’re unsure how to keep track of everything. The urge to cry swells again. As though sensing your distress, Flare hops up your arm to jump in front of you, hovering just in front of your face as he takes different shapes. 

You watch him - he turns into a pink unicorn, a blue dragon, a purple serpent. Flare is magnificent, a tiny spirit of flame and colors and shapes. You don’t realize you’re crying until he squeaks, a distressed sound as he ping pongs back and forth in front of you, flashing from red to orange.

You laugh and wipe the tears, aware that Hoseok is watching. “I’m not upset,” you whisper to Flare. You hold out your hands, cupped. He lands in them, warming your skin. “You’re very beautiful. I’m crying because even though this is very scary, there is beauty here.” You sniffle. “Because everything my grandmother ever told me… it’s true.” 

-

A loud clang startles you awake. You don’t remember falling asleep, but the room is dark. Flare is nowhere to be seen, and Hoseok is gone. You scramble to your feet as the door opens, a burning torch appearing in the doorway. Jimin appears, settling the torch in an empty sconce on the wall. He slides in the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

Hatred bubbles up immediately. You reach for the swell of power, but it still feels muted, like the magic so new to you is locked behind a door. 

Jimin scoffs. “You were drugged so you can’t turn me to ashes, Shade.”

“So you’re afraid of me.”

“I take precautions for even the smallest ant that stings.” Your ball your fists at the insult. 

Jimin is dressed differently. Gone is the silk pink shirt. He’s in all black now, the collar opens loose at the neck to reveal glittering necklaces. The cuffs of the fine shirt are stitched with silver, phase of the moon artfully placed on the material. His dark pants are tucked into soft leather boots. The circlet in his hair is different than before - there are stars and moons in this one, glittering diamonds catching the firelight. 

He looks so beautiful that you avert your eyes, shame coloring your face pink. The draw to him again is so strong you want to bend over at the waist and gasp for air. It’s a magnetic pull that threatens to drive you to insanity, especially when he steps forward. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, brows pinched. 

“Like you care.” 

Something flashes in Jimin’s eyes. He straightens, looking down his nose at you, face impassive. “You’re right,” he deadpans. “I shouldn’t care about a half-human brat. Come. You’ve been summoned by the King of the Night Court.”

“I won’t help you. I don’t care if you torture me. You betrayed Hoseok, who was your friend. That bullshit you fed me about helping suffering fae? It was some sort of wordplay, wasn’t it? You want whatever this is,” You hold up your hand, “For yourself. Be honest with me.” Jimin opens the door, staring at you without a reaction. This enrages you further. Of course he’s unaffected. He doesn’t care.

“If you’re done with your speech, there are things to be done. You need to change for the ceremony.”

“What ceremony?”

Jimin winces then. He turns on a heel and storms out of the door, boots echoing in a hallway. After a moment’s consideration, you hurry after him.

The hallway is long and dark, lit with orange torches. Jimin is several strides ahead of you. You run to catch up with him, falling into pace as he marches, staring straight ahead. There are no windows, but doors line the hallway. You have no idea what horrors could be behind them.

You grab Jimin to stop him and he reacts immediately. You’re pressed against the wall in a moment, torch crackling next to you. You hold your breath as Jimin invades your space, pinning a wrist to the wall as he lowers his face to glower at you. “Don’t,” he growls lowly. “Touch me like that. Not here. Not during the ceremony. If you show an ounce of that disrespect, they will make me kill you.”

“Why should I believe anything you say? You deceive me and your friend and you ask for blind loyalty when you haven’t learned it. You’ve told me nothing.”

“I’ve told you what won’t get you kill. You may be able to lie unlike the fae, but you’re not trained in the world of deception and the practice it takes. Faeries made a game of lying and you have no idea how to play.”

Silence stretches between you. You’re panting with rage, twisting in his grip. Jimin tightens his hand, pressing his waist against you. You freeze as the smell of orange blossoms and night fall over you. It’s hard not to shiver in his grasp, especially with his breath fanning you.

Jimin loosens his grip slightly as he lowers his face further, making sure he has your eye contact when he says, “I am going out of my way to value your life while I complete what I must. I cannot lie.”

You jut your chin out. “Faeries made a game of lying,” you quote back to him. 

“I’m not lying to you. I swear on the Maker and my mother Eun the Lightspear that I am not lying to you right now. I am trying to protect you. You have complicated this in ways you cannot fathom, but I will try to spare you.”

A beat of quiet passes between you to. You see the seriousness in his gaze, the way his breath quickens. It’s the most you’ve ever heard him swear something – and though you’re unsure what swearing in Faerie does exactly, it feels important. It feels binding.

So you nod. “Okay.”

“This is going to be unpleasant,” Jimin sighs as he lets you go. He backs up a few paces and you try not to follow him across the hall. “I mean it when I say I’m trying to keep you alive. But if you behave like that at court, they will eat you alive and call it entertainment.”

“Okay.”

You rub your wrist where he gripped you and his expression softens, just slightly. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Instead of telling him it’s okay, you ask, “What ceremony were you talking about?”

“I’ve claimed you for the Night Court.” Jimin begins walking again and you scurry behind him to keep up.

“What?”

“Your grandmother is Yvaine, Daughter of Samar. She’s the half-sister to my adoptive brother, Jin.” He grimaces. “You have little claim to the throne has a half-fae, but you’re a Shade, which means something to the gentry around here. To save your life, I’ve pledged you to me. You cannot under any circumstances let my brother know that you're a Shade, he will see it as a threat.”

“What does that mean?”

Jimin opens a door at the end of the hall and ushers you through. There’s a set of stairs that you climb together before you’re outside in a beautiful garden. A found trickles in the center, a centaur depicted spitting water from his mouth as he plays a harp. There are birds singing and glowing butterflies flitting from tree to tree.

“It means I’ve claimed that you’re a personal member of my court and that you will swear fealty to me in front of the King and the Night Court.”

You look at him with wide eyes. “The fuck I am.”

“You’re right, how silly of me. Let me skip on up to dearest Jin and tell him that the descendent of Yvaine Darkbringer and Oberon Fireborn who also happens to be a Shade like her grandmother, and who also happens to be in possession of a ring with the High King Malik’s glamour bound to it doesn’t want to be here and we should let her go. That will work.”

You open and close your mouth. He’s using names and terms that you don’t understand. You don’t know what Darkbringer and Fireborn means, or the fact that he keeps calling you Shade. None of it makes sense, but Jimin’s implication is enough: it’s pledge yourself to his court or die as a threat to this Jin he mentioned.

“I’m not swearing an oath to you.”

“What does it matter? You can lie. Any promise of loyalty you make to me means nothing.”

“Fine.” You straighten your shoulders. “But don’t treat me like I’m a child. You will be respectful.”

“Respect given is respect earned,” Jimin quips, walking away from you and toward a maze of hedges. “Come along, Shade. I hope you’re as good at lying as you are at annoying me.”

-

Two fae move around you in a circle, their fingers working on pulling on the gown while the other pulls strands of your hair. In another life, you would appreciate the room. It’s massive, with one of the walls made up entirely of rockface, a waterfall dripping down the cool stone. There are glowing flowers on the rockface, pale in comparison to the side of the gardens below the balcony.

Curtains dance in the jasmine-scented breeze. They’re gauzy and dark blue, twisting in in their holdings. There are no doors that lead to the stone balcony that overlooks a dizzying garden-forest of glowing flowers and chittering creatures.

The main chamber of the room is commanded by a four-poster bed with live glowing vines crawling up the columns, their ends vanishing into the sapphire, velvet curtains secured to each post. The bed is larger than any you’ve ever seen with dark, rumbled sheets that smell like orange blossom and a smell you’ve begun to associate with Jimin.

Jimin.

The name ignites a war within you. It is both full of a bitter tang and a sweet… something that you’re unsure of. The walk to the bedroom was silent after declaring you were to pledge yourself to his court. He explained that if you were bound to his court, you had his protection.

Meaning the king – Jin – couldn't murder you for inheriting a power that should belong only to him.

You look anything but unassuming. You stare in the mirror as the fae move around you. You’re unsure what they are – they’re genderless and they look more like moving smoke than human beings. Their hands fade in and out of existence and their eyes are glowing white, like stars. The color of their cloudy skin shifts with shadow, and when they step toward the light, you can see through them.

Unassuming is not the word you would use. They have smeared a shimmering substance on your arms, chest and neck. Your eyes are lined with dark coal, a contrast to the silver glitter on the tops of your cheekbones. Your hair is pinned in a low bun, some curled pieces falling out. There are pins with stars in your hair, a constellation of stairs among the strands that the two smoke-faeries have managed to tame.

You look startlingly like your grandmother. Not the eyes, though – those still look like your grandfather. But the sloping features, the intensity in your gaze and the way you hold your shoulders back with purpose… you blink in surprise.

It’s the way you’ve always wanted to appear like your mom. Confident. Fierce.

An ache starts in your chest at the thought of your mom. You cling to Hoseok’s works and hope that time back home is moving slowly. You’ve been at the Night Court for over two days. Jimin had the heart to tell you that you were in that room for a while after he knocked you out, and even more when they had received Hoseok.

Jimin wouldn’t answer where Hoseok was. You have every intention on finding out.

Though you’re aligned to this plan for now, taking Jimin for the oath that he swore, you’re crafting plans of your own.

It was difficult to memorize the steps to the room, but you’re confident you can navigate down to the garden and the wall of hedges that you passed on the way to the room.

The two faeries step away from you. The motion drags your eyes back to the mirror, focusing on the way you’re dressed. You must admit that you don’t look human at all. Your hands drift to the tips of your ears – still round, though maybe a little pointed, you note. But not faerie ears.

Silver beading makes up the entire bodice of the gown. It’s form fitting, hugging the swells of your breasts with a unique keyhole design, baring the sparkles on your chest. The sleeves cut off at the arm, sheer black material falling behind you at the shoulder like a cape, stars and diamonds catching the lighting.

The beading disperses at the waist, trickling into a twinkling pattern in layers and layers of black material, sheer but soft. It gives the illusion that you’re wearing the night sky when you move, the beading and jewels catching the light to create a beautiful allusion.

You wear no jewelry save for the iron ring on your finger. The pins in your hair paired with the spectacle of a gown command enough attention.

The door opens, making you turn as Jimin enters.

You suck in a sharp breath when you see him.

Jimin is stressed in equal extravagance. There are silver threads laced in his hair, emphasizing the grey of his styled hair. The crown of stars and moons is atop his head once more – you realize it looks exactly like the pins in your hair. The black shirt he wears is scandalously sheer, showing the strong body beneath. You can tell his skin is glittered beneath the shirt, hard planes of his abs catching the light as he approaches you slowly, green eyes pinned to you.

And his eyes. His eyes are lightly kohled, intensifying his already burning stare. There are no necklaces around his throat – where you’re determined to keep your gaze and not trail further to the abs – but he has diamonds in his ear, a cluster of stars climbing up the pointed edges.

Jimin is a dream. He is every lullaby you’ve ever heard murmured come to life. He is spun from moonlight, and he is the light of the stars himself.

Something so beautiful should not be so rotten inside, you think.

“You look exquisite,” Jimin says after a while. His hands are still clasped behind his back, his haunting eyes only for you. “Better than the gold and green of summer, but still not as good as the blue and silver.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Jimin smiles – it’s so rare that he smiles that you find yourself opening your mouth in surprise. It’s tiny, but it isn’t filled with malice.

“I brought you something.” He removes his hands from behind his back. There’s a bracelet in his hands, a cluster of stars and planets. You hold out your wrist and then retreat it, eyes narrowing. He chuckles. “I offer this with no bargain. I gift this freely with no favors or debts do. I swear it.”

With a hum of approval, you hold out your wrist. His fingers are nimble and quick as he clasps the bracelet on your wrist. Your skin feels like it's on fire where his fingers brush your skin – more so than necessary when he pulls his hands away, running his fingers along your palm.

“It was your grandmothers.”

You look up at him. “Really?”

He nods. “I can show you to her old room, if you like.”

“I would like that very much. You knew her well?”

“Well enough. We were allies, though perhaps not friends.”

“Why not friends?”

His smile is sad. “To save Faerie from the High King, she had to hurt me.” You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing at all. “I suppose it seems the obvious answer among destruction: sacrifice the one to save the many. But she was warned of the potential consequences.”

“I saw her in a dream,” you mention. “She seemed just as conflicted about you and your choices. Perhaps we cannot judge others with such limited point of views.”

“Keep thinking like that and you’ll die in minutes. There is no time to question if someone is good here.” Jimin steps back from you and holds out the crook of his elbow. “Come. It’s time to tolerate me the best you can.”

You cut him a dull stare. “Aren’t I doing well enough already?”

“I suppose.”

Heat radiates from where you loop your arm in Jimin’s. You steady a breath as he leads you out of the room.

The halls to the main palace were twisting, no room or wall the same. You passed a large courtyard with no ceilings, the night sky shimmering above. There’s a large, black tree in the courtyard, lights like stars dangling from it. There’s a power there, throbbing through the roots and through the floor of the yard. Will-o-wisps flit among the bare branches, dancing among the gnarled arms.

You hesitate as you pass it, looking over your shoulder, fixated on it.

“The Midnight Tree,” Jimin murmurs. “The palace was built around it. It was placed there by our Maker at the beginning of our time.”

“Why would the Night Court be built around it? I thought the High Fae came first.”

The corner of his mouth drags upward. “Someone has been listening. The High Court came first – but the first High Queen – the Maker, for we don’t know her name – was very in love with a handmaiden of hers. The handmaiden was in love with the night and the night sky, so the Maker planted this tree here. The power you feel. It’s what keeps the Night Court in eternal night. The Maker made it for her lover, so that she may live in her favorite scape.”

“That’s beautiful,” you murmur.

A hum of voices reaches you as you walk toward closed double doors. Guards line the doors, two to each side. Your fingers clutch the fabric of Jimin’s sleeve, going rigid. They are dressed in all black, tunic, leather vests and grieves over the dark material, inlaid with silver material depicting the moon and stars of the Night Court. There are swords at their hips, their eyes trained on you.

None of them move to stop you, but a shadow appears down the hall, whistling lightly to catch Jimin’s attention. Jimin freezes. You feel him go rigid as the figure steps into the light of the hall. The guards fidget as Jungkook grins at Jimin, waltzing to the pair of you.

Fear trickles down your neck as you watch him. His long hair is styled back, a single messy strand falling against his brow. You realize the underneath of his hair is shaved, shorter than the rest. The new look lets you spy a small, white brand behind his ear.

Jungkook is not dressed in finery like Jimin. He is in the same black shirt, open to reveal curls of tattoos on his chest that vanish into his sleeves. His pants are tucked into high boots. A belt hangs snug around his narrow waist, knives and a sword belted to him. A leather harness stretches to his leg, holding another sheath, bone handle gleaming.

“My eyes are up here, gorgeous,” Jungkook teases, earning flared nostrils and your eyes snapping up to his dark ones. A single earring dangles in his right ear, a dagger at the end of it. He is devilishly handsome, but there’s something unhinged in his gaze. “You’re a pretty little thing when you’re all dressed up.”

“Back up, dog,” Jimin growls, eyes like a dark, green storm. “You might rub your stench off on her.”

“I don’t answer to you,” Jungkook says to Jimin, never taking his eyes off you as he smirks. “I might answer to you, though. You look good enough to eat.”

“I’m not looking to adopt a stray animal,” you smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I have fealty to pledge.”

Jungkook drops the smirk, his e expression murder as you grin, pulling Jimin further. Jimin smirks as the guards open the doors for you, casting them open to reveal a room filled with a dizzying assortment of creatures and colors. You focus on Jimin’s low words as he says, “Impressive.”

“Hardly. He hurt Hoseok.” Jimin dips his head in the direction of a humanoid tree that is seven feet tall, his skin nut-brown and patched with bark. He is dressed in green finery, blinking two sleep eyes at you. “You will show me to Hoseok after this.”

“Oh? Will I?”

“Yes. Or I’ll tell everyone here that you’re having me pledge falsely so you can use my shadow fire and new ring to take over.” Jimin growls low in his throat. “Checkmate.”

“I haven’t an idea what that means.”

Faeries and creatures part like a sea as you walk through. You try not to look at the alien faces around you – fae with green skin and big, black eyes, trolls and faeries that look like wolves watching you with predatory interest. There are others who look like Jimin, beautiful and feather light on their feet as they trail after you.

The room is very obviously a throne room, a raised dais at the far end of the hall. The ceiling is... nothing. Faerie light hovers around the room in soft-white globes, but the ceiling is a churning black mass of nothingness. It unsettles you as you let Jimin lead you to a silver throne, a man who looks like an avenging angel rising to his feet from it.

Around you, the whisper of clothes move as the room bows. Jimin bows low at the waist, dropping your arm from his. You do the same, careful not to lose your balance.

When you straighten, the king of the Night Court is watching you. His tan skin is smooth and ageless, ancient charcoal eyes studying you. His lips are sinfully full and pink. Dark black hair is brushed delicately back, a silver circlet of silver with no adornment in his hair. He's dressed in a black tunic with diamond-studded cuffs and a silver tree with stars stitched among them. A single dark cape is on his shoulders, pined to his shoulders with moons.

“She certainly looks like her,” the king says to Jimin. “It’s uncanny. There’s no doubt of her heritage, you’re right.”

“I’m standing right here,” you blurt.

You snap your mouth shut audibly when Jimin stiffens next to you and the king turns his dark gaze on you. You feel hypnotized, unable to look away from him as his gaze sucks you in. His eyes are bottomless and you’re falling, falling, falling.

Suddenly there’s nothing else in the world. There’s just the darkness of the king’s eyes and you feel boneless, alone. The world is muted and you’re lost in a dark sea.

A despair unlike anything you’ve ever felt pulls at you, drowning you deeper and deeper. You begin to suffocate, the world closing in on you-

Jimin’s hand brings you back. The king adverts his gaze with a smirk, glancing at Jimin. “Mouth just like my sister, it seems.”

“Seokjin, please,” Jimin murmurs.

The name rings through you. Your grandmother standing in twilight rushes back, her words. You realize with horror that the man in front of you is Seokjin. You realize every time Jimin mentioned his adoptive brother Jin – it was short for Seokjin. The faerie who could lie. The man who killed your grandfather.

Seokjin grins at you, venomous. “Hello, niece.”

Next Chapter

[shuadotcom]

Tell Me You Want Me | PJM (M)

❧ Summary: Spring break doesn’t mean much to you since you dropped out of college and joined the working world. This spring though, your parents demand you take off of work to join them for a family vacation along with your childhood friend’s family. You eagerly agree, both to see your best friend Sunyoung, but also to rekindle things with your hometown fling, Jimin.

With him being Sunyoung's brother, the two of you are used to keeping your hook-ups a secret from everyone, but this time, Jimin tries to keep a secret of his own from you: his new girlfriend. With some new (or are they old?) feelings stirring for Jimin, you can’t keep your hands of him, even knowing that he technically belongs to someone else. Cue the drama, the mess, and plenty of hurt feelings.

❧ Pairing: Best Friend’s Brother!Jimin x Female!Reader

❧ Genres/AUs: Angst, drama, smut, fluff, best friend’s brother au, friends w/benefits to lovers au

❧ Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

❧ Words: 20.7k 🫥

❧ Warnings: Infidelity, profanity, alcohol consumption, age gap (Jimin is 22, Y/n is around 26/27), sexting and exchanging nudes, oral (m & f receiving), handjob, fingering, public sex, jacuzzi sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, choking, spitting, sub!Jimin, dom!Reader, a sneak peek of dom!Jimin

❧ Notes: FINALLY FINISHED!! Written for the Spring Break-ing the Rules project hosted by BTS Honey Hive! My destination was Cancun, Mexico. Huge, massive, giant thank you to @playmetheclassics​ and @cherrysoulth​ for being my amazing betas!! Thank you for reading through this mess - I loved reading all your commentary 😂❤️❤️ And an equally big thank you the talented @hobeemin​ for this gorgeous banner!! ❤️❤️

This fic kicked my ass lol but I’m happy with it. I tried 2 texting apps for any texting parts. I’m not sure if I like it more or less than just typing out the texts (mostly because both the apps I used are annoying lol) but hey something new!

And full disclaimer before diving in: Y/n and Jimin aren’t really meant to be “good” here lol. They’re toxic but that’s the point!! Anyway I also made a spotify playlist to go with it because why not!

Four and a half hours. That’s how long, at max, the flight from New York to Cancun, Mexico takes. On a good day, it’s quicker, but of course, this was not a good day. You wouldn’t have had such a problem with it if your flight hadn’t been delayed by two hours plus an unexpected layover in Florida. To add insult to injury, your headphones died mid-flight and you forgot your power bank to charge them. There were also more terrible, screaming children than necessary, plus your seatmates were an elderly woman that coughed the entire time and a man, in his fifties at least, that kept talking to you (see: hitting on you) the entire time.

By the time you exit the airport and get into a shuttle to the resort, you’re irritable and tired, but the prospect of seeing your parents and best friend again keeps your little bit of excitement alive and well. 

The last time you saw your childhood best friend was a year ago for her birthday. New York living is expensive, especially when you’re a humble project manager at a tech start-up, so you don’t have the financial means to make it back home to Southern California as much as you’d like. 

This spring break trip was organized by your parents as an excuse to get both Sunyoung’s and your family all together again. They even footed part of your plane ticket, which you’re grateful for. After you dropped out of college and left higher education in the past, you remember how you very nearly moved back home to figure out your next plan. Still, when one of your old roommates referred you to the tech company she had started at, you took the job and you’ve stayed on the East coast.

You wish more than anything that you didn’t regret leaving home to experience life somewhere new as an adult, but you can’t.

Most of the time, when you’re in your aged, cramped studio that you can barely afford, you want so badly to be back in your parent's house in California, surrounded by people that leave you. Instead of being alone with no support system. But your pride keeps that from happening so you fake enthusiasm anytime someone from home asks how you like the city.

Thankfully, the ride to the resort is much quicker and less aggravating than the flight so you don’t have much time to be alone with your thoughts, which relieves you. As you thank your driver and get your suitcase unloaded, you hear a voice call out to you.

Whipping around, you see a second shuttle pulling up to join you at the resort entrance. Sunyoung leaps out of the van as soon as it parks and throws herself into your arms.

“Y/n!” She squeals, and you return the enthusiasm. 

Sunyoung has been your longest-running friendship since she and her family became your next-door neighbors when you were both nine. She and her family moved from South Korea because her parents wanted to give her and her then-five-year-old brother “the American dream.” 

When you think of her brother at that moment, your eyes dart over her shoulder then as you watch him step out of the van, the sun reflecting off of his freshly dyed red hair. 

The last time you saw Park Jimin was via an Instagram post a few weeks ago showcasing his new dye job. The color suited his beautiful features wonderfully, but when you texted him that, you received nothing in response. He’s another reason you said yes to this trip (not that either of your families can know). 

Jimin has had a crush on you probably since he entered middle school and knew what a crush was. He was always your best friend’s annoying little brother to you. Constantly barging into her room when you were hanging out, pranking you whenever he had the chance, and making childish jokes when you were around.

As he got older, his childishness turned into shyness when he saw you, even going as far as to run out of the room if you were in it. Both of your families knew of his crush and teased him about it, but nothing much came of it because why would it?

When Jimin entered high school and you were about to graduate, he was bold enough to ask to be your date to his freshman prom. You turned him down of course, but that didn’t stop him from starting to be bolder in attempting to flirt with you. It was always playful and you thought nothing of it because again, he was your best friend’s little brother.

Things between you and Jimin changed when he graduated high school. You were already living in New York but flew back home for his graduation party. Not having paid much attention to Jimin’s social media, you hadn’t even noticed how puberty had changed him.

The whiny little boy with the glasses and bowl cut was replaced by an eighteen-year-old, lean yet fit man with blonde hair, piercings, and an intoxicating smile. When you walked into the Parks’ house that afternoon and caught sight of him talking to his mom in the kitchen you barely recognized him. 

You spent all day sneaking glances, your brain barely comprehending that this is the same boy that cried when you hid a Spiderman toy from him years ago.

As if he had known you were confused at the sight of him, Jimin cornered you outside later that night after everyone had gone inside. To this day, your conversation seems like a blur to you. One minute you were congratulating Jimin on finally getting out of high school and the next, he was reaching forward and pulling you into a kiss.

It caught you off guard and probably lasted longer than it should, but when you finally pulled away, Jimin was embarrassed and mumbled apology after apology. He tripped over himself to explain how he’d always liked you, and since he was of age, maybe you wouldn’t see him as a kid anymore. 

While you accepted his apology you still turned him down. He was your best friend’s little brother. He just graduated high school and you were four years older and you had literally grown up with him. To you, it would look weird and it was left at that.

Two years later he flew to New York citing he was thinking of going to dance school there. Naturally, you showed him around and let him stay on the couch in your apartment while your roommate was away. On his second night in the city, one minute you were talking about your favorite pizza place and the next he was kissing you again. And this time, you didn’t push him away and you didn’t tell him no. Jimin was 20 years old and so shy yet so confident with you and you couldn’t ignore how attracted to him you were.

You let Jimin kiss the breath out of you and fuck you into your mattress that night. You let him do it every night he stayed with you. Then, you let him text you and send you videos and pictures when he’s horny. It went from texts to phone sex to facetime calls where he cried for you while he came. 

Each time you went home after that, even though it wasn’t often, you and Jimin found places to be alone together. You fucked in each other’s houses when your families were out. You gave him handjobs in his car. He ate you out in the bathroom of a grocery store when you were picking things up for a family barbeque. Anywhere you and Jimin could find to be alone you had sex. This continued virtually when you were away and Jimin became your longest-running friends-with-benefits relationship - somehow lasting two years.

It’d have been two and a half had Jimin’s communication with you not slowed down to the point where two weeks ago he went completely radio silent. He was barely replying to any of your messages and stopped answering video calls.

“Y/n?” Sunyoung’s voice pulls you out of your daze. You blinked hard a few times, unsure how long you were too far down into your memories. 

“What?”

“I said, our parents want us all to eat lunch together, but we can do something after and you didn’t say anything for like a whole minute.”

“Shit, sorry, I’m just tired from that hell flight. I must’ve had a war flashback or something.”

Laughing, Sunyung loops her arm through yours. “Well, that’s nothing a cocktail or four can’t help!” She gives you a wink that you return while also trying to see what Jimin is doing. 

“Good. I need to shower first because I feel so damn crusty.” Sunyoung agrees, gesturing to follow her to both of your parents still exiting the shuttle. After greeting both your parents and hers with lots of hugs and kisses, you anxiously await for Jimin to step around the van so you can see him fully.

He’s been leaning down into the car talking, and you’re getting a little impatient. It isn’t until you reach your hand up to wave at him that you see a head of dark hair emerge from the car, and you see it’s a girl. A girl that grips Jimin’s arm in the same way you do to him when he’s kissing the breath out of you. 

She turns and makes eye contact with you sending an unsuspecting smile.

“Oh, Y/n, this is Jimin’s girlfriend, Momo. Momo, this is my best friend, Y/n!” You immediately make eye contact with Jimin, who looks away in record time. Looking at Momo again you greet her, plastering on an artificial smile. 

Jimin has a girlfriend and he has never told you. Something that feels suspiciously like jealousy grips your stomach.

Your performance at lunch is Oscar-worthy. Every question from your parents or the Parks about your job is answered with smiles. You have an entertaining yet informative story for every inquiry from Sunyoung about your apartment and the city. No one around you is in tune with the blazing looks you keep sending Jimin’s way except him.

His brown eyes can’t help but dart to you every few minutes, only staying trained on you for mere seconds before he pulls himself away. Kudos to him as well, for keeping up his usual joking, outgoing demeanor even as you stare into his soul. 

He’s been ghosting you for weeks because he has a girlfriend that he never once told you about. 

“Still no one in your dating life, Y/n?” Your mom’s question has your eyes snapping from Jimin to her in record time.

“Mom!” You groan indignantly. “No,” you say quickly, rolling your eyes before your next line of questioning pops into your head. “But it looks like at least one of us have found someone?” The question is directed at Jimin and as the whole table looks his way, a red hue blossoms onto his round cheeks.

“Oh, uh yeah,” he says with a cough, avoiding you. Everyone laughs his behavior off as shyness, but you know the stuttering and nervousness are for you.

“We met in dance class last year,” Momo supplies, beaming at Jimin who is too busy stirring his lemonade. “He was too scared to ask me out so I had to do it a few months ago.” She laughs, everyone joining in, including you. She’s pretty - clear skin and light makeup, a brown bob with bangs that fit her face well. Dark eyes, round cheeks, and a cute smile - it’s clear why Jimin likes her. Her smiles and kindness seem genuine.

“Yeah, I’m surprised you agreed to come on vacation,” Sunyoung says to Momo. “I keep telling you, Jimin is way too messy to share a room with and a pain in the ass to be around twenty-four hours a day, but you’ll see. You’ve only been together for what, like six months? You’ll learn all you need to know so you can do better!” She cackles at her little brother, leaning over to poke him in the ribs as she makes fun of him. You smile and jest along with her, ignoring the thickness in your throat at knowing how long they've been dating.

After lunch, Jimin announces he’s going upstairs to get his swimsuit for the pool. Everyone else already brought theirs down or changed under their clothes before lunch so they decide to head outside. You follow, but at the last minute let out a curse with the excuse that you forgot yours too.

No one is any wiser as everyone heads out without you with the intent of claiming a spot for both families.

Jimin is already in the elevator when you reach it, but as you exit and start down the hall to your room, you see the redhead with his hands in his pockets, walking to his room.

“Jimin,” you call out with extra sweetness to your voice. He freezes in his tracks, spine straight as he waits for you to catch up. “Hi.” When you’re finally next to him, head tilted to look at his face you see just how panicked he looks with wide brown eyes staring at the floor.

“Hey.”

“You know it’s pretty fucked up to leave people on read for weeks. It’s even more fucked not to tell the person you’ve been sharing nudes with that you have an entire girlfriend at home.” Your tone is casual, but there’s still attitude behind your words.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t know when or how to tell you.”

“You could’ve said something in the last six months. We’ve been cyber-fucking this entire time you’ve been with her, Jimin.” You stop walking when you reach his and Momo’s room.

“I don’t have any good explanation okay? I was just so nervous to tell you. I didn’t want to stop seeing you, but I also just, I don’t know, wanted someone at home with me. You’re so far away most of the time. I thought maybe if I said yes to the cute girl on campus that likes me, it’d help me.”

“Help you what? Have someone in real life to fuck when I’m not around?”

“Yes, b-but not like that!” Jimin turns to face you completely, looking at you with something unreadable in his eyes.

“I was hoping that she could fill the void that you don’t want to fill. The whole dating me part.”

Ouch. The implication is clear in his words. You refuse to commit to anything other than sex so he looked for someone else to fulfill his girlfriend needs. It’s not as though you don’t like Jimin for more than sex, you just haven’t unpacked those feelings fully, what with the desire to keep it such a secret trumping all else. 

“Y/n, look, I like Momo, I do. We have a lot in common and my family likes her but…” He trails off, still not meeting your gaze.

“But what?”

“But she’s not you.” Jimin meets your eyes then, his words coupled with the look he’s giving you stirs something confusing inside of you. Shaking it off, you move close enough to Jimin so that his back presses against the door, ignoring the way your brain is asking if you really want to keep doing this.

You do.

“Sounds like you really missed me?” Jimin’s head nods frantically, his breath hitching when you slot your thigh between his. “Enough to cheat on your girlfriend, Minie?” The nodding stops and he seems to consider this for a few seconds before he breathes out a ‘yes’. You lean forward and kiss him after this, your gloss-covered lips working expertly against his chapped ones.

Jimin’s hands rest on your hips while yours move up to either side of his shoulders, caging him against the door. 

The two of you stay like that for a while, making up for the time away from one another and the lust you feel whenever you’re in any proximity to one another.

When the elevator down the hall dings, you pull back, both of you panting while straightening your clothes. 

“I missed you too, baby.” You whisper in his ear before fast-walking three doors down to your and Sunyoung’s room and slipping inside before whoever is in the elevator can catch a glimpse of you.

Once in the room, you let out a breath, and move to dig through your suitcase for your bathing suit. Jimin’s lips are a trap, and if not for the unwanted visitor, you’d have likely done more than kiss, but now isn’t the time. 

Aside from the party downstairs waiting, your thoughts and feelings are a jumbled mess. Lust mixed with confusion mixed with guilt. Truth be told since you started this thing with Jimin, guilt was always in the back of your mind. Not telling anyone about the two of you weighed on you at times, especially when it came to Sunyoung. You don’t know quite what her reaction will be to her childhood best friend fucking her little brother, but you can’t imagine it’d be anything positive.

Then there are both of your parents who would have too many questions and thoughts, but a new blanket of shame takes over knowing that Jimin has had someone in his life other than you this whole time, so it’s a lot to take in. You do know that something in you hates the idea of Jimin being with someone else. You’re sure he fucks other people when you’re away from home because it’s not like you were exclusive, but you had only slept with a few other people. You haven’t dated anyone though and you didn’t think he would either, but that was proving to be a wrong assumption on your part.

With all of this in mind, for some reason, the idea of never sleeping with Jimin again seems terrible. Not kissing him or cuddling - it’s not something you can imagine just not doing anymore. Momo seems sweet, but you were here first to be fair. And clearly, Jimin still wants you, so as long as you continue to stay hush about it, maybe you can keep living with your guilt and your secrets since he apparently can too.

Everyone stays by the pool for a couple of hours before going back to their rooms to change for the evening music performance your parents want everyone to go to before dinner. Sunyoung already declares that she’ll be going to bed after, having had one too many cocktails at the pool. She’s already going on about, planning the morning yoga class the two of you will take tomorrow followed by breakfast and the spa. You let her go on all afternoon, both excited about spending time with her but also planning how and when you’ll get Jimin to yourself.

You too have a good number of drinks as you lounge and occasionally swim, all the while doing as much as you can to make sure Jimin looks at you in your bikini. You dunk underwater and pop back up in the sexiest way possible, his desperate eyes locked on your every movement. Anytime you need to bend down to climb out of the water, you do it where he can see and it seems to work.

When your families go to the recreation room in the resort to watch the show, you sit between Jimin and Sunyoung, keeping most of your body nonchalantly pressed against him. Each time you shift to talk to your parents next to him and Momo, your breasts purposely rub against his arm and every time, Jimin fidgets in his seat, doing his best to hide his discomfort.

The band onstage begins playing an upbeat, catchy song which, given the amount of alcohol most guests have been tossing back all day, quickly has people on their feet. As the beginning of the song plays, Sunyoung jumps up, pulling you with her to the dancefloor a short way away from the seats.

Your families clap along, cheering the two of you on as you move to the music, both of you laughing along while moving around one another. Your dress, a slinky, short, royal blue-colored slip number keeps perfectly moving around your curves, keeping Jimin entranced the whole time.

Even after a few more songs and well into dinner, Jimin seems to be different than when you arrived. Earlier, he so desperately kept himself from making eye contact, but now he practically does nothing other than watch your every move and hang onto your every word.

At one point, Sunyoung jokes with you during a bathroom break that she thinks her brother’s high school crush on you is coming back.

“It’s gross the way he was staring at you when we were dancing.” She sticks her tongue out as she washes her hands but you just chuckle.

“I would hope that anyone under the age of 40 was checking me out. I wore this dress for a reason!” You wink at her through the mirror and you both laugh, Sunyoung launching into how much she hopes she can get laid this trip. You agree, leaving out who of course, you hope it’ll be with.

To ensure this happens sooner rather than later, two hours later, when you’re back in your room and Sunyoung is in the shower, you decide to take a quick video for Jimin.  

Once you hear her humming along to the soft sounds of one of her playlists, you turn the tv volume up a little more and sit on the chair in front of the room’s full-length mirror. 

Taking position, you zoom the camera in to focus on your neck and down. After hitting record, your hand sensually slides from around your neck, down to your breast, and squeezes.

“Jimin,” you whisper into the phone. “I’ve missed you so much. I need you tomorrow.” Creeping your hand lower, you slowly zoom in, stopping at the bottom of your sleep shirt. You lift it, showing off your little shorts. 

“Can you make time for me?”

Shirt between your teeth, you pull down the front of your shorts, wriggling them to your knees, and lean back in the chair. In this new position, you open your legs as wide as you can, giving Jimin a full view of your pussy before stopping the video. That’s all he deserves until tomorrow. He’s left you hanging for two weeks already so he can wait another night.

Video sent, you get back into bed, scrolling on Instagram until your phone vibrates with a text from Jimin.

A picture comes through not soon after and it’s exactly what you thought it’d be: a picture of Jimin holding his hard dick, his hand wrapped around it tightly.

Biting your lip, you clamp your thighs together, willing yourself to calm down. Resisting the strong urge to continue with him, you say goodnight, telling him to be patient and put your phone on the charger, letting your travel exhaustion force you to sleep.

Somehow, Sunyoung managed to set an alarm for the next morning so that you don’t miss yoga on the beach. Bleary-eyed, you get up (after she’s jumped on your bed for nearly five minutes) and change into comfortable clothes. 

While you had initially been skeptical, seeing how you’d been going to the same yoga studio back home for a few years, it was enjoyable and you were in a much better mood. Afterwards, the two of you stuff yourselves with breakfast burritos and fresh-pressed juice before happily heading to the resort spa.

Sunyoung scheduled a whole package for the two of you complete with massages, seaweed wraps, facials, and a manicure and pedicure. It’s a much-needed pamper session and quality time you and your best friend needed.

New York City has been great for gaining more independence, but that’s about it. You’ve made a few decent friends at your job and from college, but you miss your family and your closest friends more than anything, and being with Sunyoung again reminds you of home and all the inside jokes and stories you share.

During your pedicures, the two of you recline with your facial masks, gossiping about people from high school that she still sees around. She’s talking about a guy that’s always had a crush on her and how she finally had sex with him when she shifts the conversation to you.

“Okay, so like, I know you told our parents you don’t have anyone in your life, but be honest with me.”

You fight the urge to open your eyes and keep cool. It’s not the first time you’ve feared being found out by her.

“Why do you think I’m not being honest?”

“Y/n, I’ve known you since we were barely stringing together coherent sentences. I’ve had a feeling you’ve been seeing someone for a while, but you just never told me. I could be wrong and my best friend radar could be shit now, but I don’t think that’s the case.”

Unfortunately for you, her senses are still as sharp as ever. She’s staring at you, gaze unwavering as she waits for your answer, so you make the split decision to tell her a half-truth.

“Fine. I’ve been sleeping with someone, but it’s completely casual.”

Sunyoung aggressively shuffles in her seat and when you crack an eye open to look at her, she’s beaming back at you looking victorious.

“I knew it! I always know these things, especially about you! I don’t know why you’d be dumb enough to try and hide it from me. Now tell me all about them, you filthy liar.”

Letting out a sigh, you adjust in your chair to look at her, your mind working overtime to form the words to tell her what you can without blowing your cover.

“Well, I met him through a friend of mine at work. He’s her cousin and it hasn’t been anything serious, but we’ve been messing around.”

“Okay, and how long has that been going on?”

“Like two years I think.”

Sunyoung chokes on her water, apologizing to her nail tech for jolting so suddenly in her seat.

“I’m sorry, you’ve been fucking him for two years and you’re only friends with benefits?! Bullshit.”

“What do you mean bullshit?” 

“You’re not about to sit here and tell me you’ve been messing around with someone for two years and there isn’t something more there.”

“I mean, there isn’t! We’re only sleeping together.”

“Yeah because one of you is too scared to do anything else.” She shrugs, eyeing you intensely over her water bottle. 

You blink at her, a frown forming. “I don’t think so, girl. I think this is just easier.”

Sunyoung rolls her eyes. “Easier for who? Did you tell each other it’s easier? Or do just you think it's easier?”

“When did it become about just me?” You scoff, a strange discomfort overcoming you as the conversation progresses. Yes, it’s easier for you to just sleep with and sext Jimin. Who he’s related to aside, you’re on opposite sides of the country and long-distance is messy. Plus you’ve only ever briefly considered dating Jimin, but nothing can happen. Your arrangement works for both of you. 

“It’s not just about you, but I want you to know you just had a whole mini-monologue these last few seconds. There was nothing behind those eyes.” Sunyoung laughs at the huff you let out as you turn to hide your expression. 

“I forgot you’re weird and intuitive when you want to be. Stop it,” you half-joke.

“Nope, never. I just know a lot about people and their feelings. You’re lucky I can’t read minds because I would tell you so much more about yourself than I do now.” Your best friend winks at you before telling her nail tech she has to use the bathroom.

“And by the way,” Sunyoung says as she gingerly stands up. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything about what you have going on with this guy. I’m sure you both have your reasons for keeping it friends-with-benefits for so long, but it may be worth thinking about how you really feel and maybe having a discussion with him about it. I have a feeling you really need to straighten things out.” She shrugs before scurrying off in her slippers.

You lay back and digest her words. Sunyoung has always had a habit of knowing you almost better than you know yourself. On one hand, dating Jimin would be much less of a pain in the ass - no more hiding and keeping so many secrets. Plus all the guilt about hiding it would vanish and finally let you breathe.

But you can’t date. He’s your best friend’s little brother. It would be a lot to explain and to navigate, and he has a whole-ass girlfriend here with him. You tell yourself once again that friends with benefits is easier for both of you and that it’s what you both want.

With freshly painted toes and fingers and relaxed muscles, you and Sunyoung leave the spa in search of lunch. You decide on a little Italian restaurant at the resort and run into both of your parents and eat with them.

“We’re heading out to do some shopping after we eat. What are you girls up to?” Your dad asks, stealing a forkful of pasta off of your plate.

You swat at his hand. “I was thinking of taking a nap. Today relaxed me too much so now I don’t want to do anything.” You lie, having already texted Jimin earlier today formulating when to meet.

“Boo! I wanted to go boating! They have a little marina and they’ll take you out and let you see dolphins.” Sunyoung gives you a thumbs down.

“You know I don’t like boats.”

“I thought you grew out of that!”

“Have you ever seen me on a boat other than our middle school graduation where I cried and found out I was in fact, scared of being on boats?” Your best friend pouts, sighing dramatically.

“Fine! I’ll see if Jimin and Momo want to go with me.” Sunyoung pulls out her phone at the same time you glance at yours under the table.

When you sat down for lunch, Jimin texted you, saying that he was still trying to convince Momo to go out and do something without him so you could come to his room. Sunyoung wanting to go boating works out in your favor because she soon announces that Momo is going with her because Jimin isn’t feeling well.

“What going on?” His mom seems worried.

“Oh, he said he may have been out in the sun too long while they were at the pool earlier today.”

Mrs. Park tsks. “I bet he didn’t put on any sunscreen. I warned him.”

“Yeah well luckily Momo came and she’s not afraid of boats!” Sunyoung playfully sticks her tongue out at you and you return the gesture.

Lunch goes by slowly, anticipation building at the prospect of finally being alone with Jimin. Momo joins you all to meet Sunyoung as you finish eating. The goodbyes are quick, your mom reminding everyone to be back to have dinner together. Sunyoung promises to text when she’s on her way, threatening you to be ready so you can do something fun. 

The group waves at one another and as soon as you see everyone get into separate resort vans, you turn on your heel and walk as conspicuously yet quickly as you can to the elevators. 

The ride to the seventh floor seems much too long, but as soon as the doors open, you’re sprinting to Jimin’s room and knocking.

He opens the door a second later and you’re on him immediately. You barely get the door closed with your foot, but you manage to do so and fumble behind you for the lock. With one leg behind you, you lose your balance and knock Jimin against the wall as your mouths move together feverishly.

The kisses you share are sloppy and frantic but that’s exactly how you feel. It’s been a year since you’ve got to touch Jimin, to kiss Jimin, and you want to make up for missed time and so much more.

When your lungs begin to burn, you pull away, both of you gasping for air. You lean down into Jimin’s neck, teeth nipping at his soft skin.

“I’m still a little annoyed with you and this whole girlfriend situation you know.” The word is enunciated with a harsh bite.

Jimin yelps. “Y/n, I - ah!”

You lightly chuckle at his outburst, licking the red skin. “The girlfriend you didn’t tell me about.” 

“Y/n, I’m sorry.”

“All this time, you were saying you missed me. I don’t know if I believe you.” You pout up at him as your fingers undo his white button-down. Jimin’s eyes follow as you slide the shirt off of his toned shoulders.

You’d nearly forgotten how beautiful Jimin’s body is. His lithe, dancer’s body trembling under your fingertips. Mouth watering, you tear your gaze away and find the button of his shorts.

“I did miss you!”

“And what exactly did you miss about me?”

Jimin lets out a shaky breath. “Every part of you. Your soft skin how hood you always smell, your pretty hands, your thighs… so thick and warm.” He ends his sentence with a sigh as you let his shorts fall to the floor. He’s already so hard, his length straining against the fabric of his underwear. The two of you have been sexting all day whenever Sunyoung was barely looking, so you’re both plenty pent up.

“And I bet you miss what’s between my thighs.” Your tone is sweet yet authoritative, just the way Jimin likes you to treat him when you’re together like this.

“Fuck, yes I do.” He grunts when you run a finger over his print.

“Well, I suppose you can make it up to me.”

He answers in a rush, saying he’ll do anything that you want. You let out a giggle at his desperation, hiding your own. 

“How about you make me cum then, Minie? Eat me out and I’ll think about forgiving you.” 

Jimin doesn’t even answer, instead grabbing for you and practically dragging you to the bed, tossing you onto it. He’s on you in an instant, pillow lips kissing your neck as he works to undo the knot on the crop top you’re wearing. Once the fabric is open, he pulls down your bandeau, lavishing your collarbones and breasts with open-mouth kisses.

Your back arches when he greedily takes a nipple into his mouth, suckling each one for a while before he keeps going down to eagerly get to your shorts. Lifting yourself from the bed you help him shimmy your shorts and panties off and in an instant, he’s burying his face in your crotch.

Jimin lets out a groan as he loudly inhales your scent, such a lewd act having you clench around nothing. He doesn’t leave you wanting for long though, as he then licks a stripe from your entrance up to your clit, and before you have a chance to process that, his lips take a hold of your clit as he sucks and flicks your sensitive bud with his tongue.

“Oh!” You can’t help but wriggle in his grasp as he takes a hold of your thighs, delving his tongue between your folds, mouth moving as if you’re his last meal.

Jimin slurps at your pussy, grunting and sighing while he works. Your eyes slip close and your fingers find his red strands, yanking him impossibly closer. 

“Shit, Jimin, you’re so good with your mouth. You love eating my pussy that much huh?”

“Mmph!” He answers, not leaving his position, his tongue now pistoning in and out of you. Jimin angles his head so that with every move, his nose rubs against your clit, the dual stimulation bringing you that much closer.

“Yes, yes, yes, just like that, Minie! Don’t stop!” Your words are pleading and he obliges, never having been able to say no to you. 

Less than a minute later, your back is arching as shockwaves shoot through you, and you let out a scream of Jimin’s name. You cum hard enough that you’re still shaking under him, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, Jimin moves again, his mouth suctioning around your clit as he easily slides a finger into your wet hole. 

Instinctively, your body tries to shrink away, but he doesn’t let you. He keeps a strong grip on your hips as he fingers you, quickly stuffing another finger into you. Torn between dragging him closer again and pushing him away, you settle for resting one of your legs on his shoulder. You keep a hold on his hair, your rapidly approaching your second orgasm already making you feel as if you’ll float away.

This is why you can’t leave him alone. His hands, his mouth, his everything keeps your body aching for him and only him. You’ve never been touched or kissed or fucked by any other person as good as the way Jimin does. The two of you barely needed to have any conversation about what the other liked and didn’t like when you started sleeping together. Somehow you, and especially he just knew.

Does that make you selfish? Absolutely, but how can you find it in yourself to call it quits when Jimin can leave you nothing but a sweaty, ruined wreck before even properly fucking you?

The second time you cum, is even harder than the first and actually makes your muscles sore from tensing so hard as you make a mess on Jimin’s fingers. He gasps for air as he finally lets your sore clit out of his mouth, only to move back down to your entrance to clean you up.

You whine at the overstimulation but let him finish, finally pushing him away when he attempts to dive back in for the third time.

“That’s enough for now, you maniac!” You laugh, seeing your juices glisten on his chin as he smiles up at you. Upon seeing him, something stirs in your heart instead of your crotch, but you will it away.

Instead, you sit up, pulling Jimin’s face to yours in a bruising kiss. You reach for his crotch, feeling just how hard he is and he mewls into your mouth.

“You’re so good to me, Minie,” you break away, placing kisses on his ear and neck. “Can I reward you?”

“Please!” He begs, his needy tone already causing wetness to pool between your thighs again.

The two of you make quick work to switch positions, Jimin now on his back against the pillows as you settle between his legs, yanking his underwear off.

His girthy cock is so hard it’s bright red, pre-cum dribbling out as soon as your hand ghosts over it. Jimin is panting as he watches you tease him, pout intensifying as he watches you stroke him with barely any pressure.

Deciding to be nice and not play with him, you lean down and slowly take him into your mouth, inch by inch until he’s in as far as you can fit him.

“Y/n!” He keens as soon as you wrap your lips around him, your hand grasping what your mouth doesn’t reach. Hollowing your cheeks, you begin to bob on his cock, the slurping from your mouth and the babble from Jimin above you filling your ears as you close your eyes and concentrate. 

Truth be told, you’ve never been a fan of giving blowjobs, but as with so many other things, it all comes back to Jimin. He’s so different in every way from anyone else. You don’t mind the weight on your tongue with the way that Jimin becomes boneless and pliant whenever his dick is in your mouth.

He’s generally boisterous and goofy with everyone around you, but when he’s with just you, that dies down. He’s still lively and chatty but on a softer scale. It’s then when he’s under you like this, completely submitting to you and whatever you want, that he becomes the most soft-spoken version of himself you’ve ever seen. He’ll let you do anything you want to him as long as it’s safe and makes him feel good, so you do.

Besides, how could you deny him when he cries out your name in such a desperate, beautiful way that he does now?

“Please, please, Y/n!” 

“Hmm? Need something, Minie?” You lift just enough to speak, before deciding to take back what you thought earlier about being nice and relaxing your throat to swallow him down, deep enough that your nose grazes his pubic hair.

“Ahh!” He bucks his hips up out of reflex, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. “S-sorry! I’m sor-!” His apology is quick, but you still reach down and grip his balls harshly as a small punishment for choking you which cuts off his sentence, gagging on his words.

Jimin’s eyes lock back on you, your hand back to stroking what’s not in your mouth while you massage his balls. He’s very clearly pleading without words and you already know he’s close to cumming just from your mouth alone.

Just to fuck with him a little more, you pull back from him just enough to wrap your lips around his cockhead and suck hard, nibbling at the overly sensitive skin just a little.

“Y/n, please! I need you so badly. I wanna fuck you!” He sounds close to tears and that’s when you decide it’s time to put you both out of your misery.

“You have to fuck me good,” you say around him. “Make up for lost times.”

Jimin, bites his bottom lip into his mouth, nodding his head furiously. “Mmhmm. I will, I will!” 

With a smirk, you let go of him with a ‘pop,’ and position yourself over his cock. You’re more than ready to cum again, your pussy aching to be filled with him, so you follow his instructions as to where his condoms are in his suitcase. Once the rubber is snug on him, you carefully sink down, burying him inside of you in one go.

Both of you let out identical sounds of relief at finally getting to the best part. Hands planted on his firm chest, you start to move your hips with enough force to jolt the whole mattress.

“Ah! Y/n, so good,” Jimin cries out, his large hands reaching out to grip your thighs as he fixates on your tits bouncing with each jerk of your body. 

“Fuck, Minie. You’re so big, you stretch me out so good.” Your voice is thick with arousal and neediness, matching his.

Everything else around you melts away as you ride Jimin, both of you filling the room with a harmony of moans and squelches. The air around you is hot, almost stifling while you lose the rhythm you built up, the pleasure making you unable to concentrate on your movements.

“Oh, Jimin I’m so close,” You rasp out, voice already sore. 

He takes this as his cue to plant his feet on the bed better and begin thrusting up, bouncing you on his cock faster. You’re breathless now, head swimming with nothing but the way Jimin always fills you up just right and knows how to make you feel good.

One of your hands scrambles to find your clit, desperately chasing the end as both of your bodies begin to tremble in tandem.

Your other manicured hand trails up Jimin’s chest to his throat as you wrap your hand around and squeeze. His brown eyes widen before rolling into the back of his head, plump lips falling open. His hips pick up speed, moving so ferociously that you nearly lose your balance and fall off him.

Eyes closed and hips bucking wildly, Jimin looks so deliciously sinful underneath you. His mouth hangs open as you loosen your grip slightly, letting him take a deep gulp of air. You can’t help leaning over and pursing your lips so that a glob of spit drips from your mouth and into his open one. Jimin greedily closes his mouth, and you feel him swallow under your palm, not missing a beat.

“You’re such a good boy for me. I want you to cum with me, baby boy.” Your words are ragged, but still, make Jimin react as his breath hitches. This is what sets him over the edge, and he shoves upwards, hipbones digging into your thighs as he fills the condom inside of you, his cock pulsating as he does.

Releasing your grip on his throat, you brace your hand on his chest again for balance as you cum as well, your eyes crossing as your body nearly falls forward at the force, your yelp mixing with the exquisite, breathy sounds Jimin is making. 

When the gyration of your hips is too much for both of you, you ease yourself up and off of his lap, toppling onto the mattress next to him. The only sound in the room is your labored breathing as you collect yourselves.

“I missed you. So much,” Jimin finally says. The tone in his words is laced with something different. Something that he’s presented you with before, but this time, it sits heavier in your chest than before. Jimin still has feelings for you - that has never changed from day one together, but you never get into what you feel. Mostly because, your feelings for Jimin are complicated, especially now with a girlfriend in the mix.

In an attempt to change the mood, you roll over and grab your phone, seeing texts from Sunyoung with photos of her and Momo in their lifejackets and the ocean behind them.

“Looks like your sister and girlfriend are enjoying the boat.” You say ‘girlfriend’ in a way that makes Jimin sigh.

“Y/n, I said I was sorry! Seriously I know I should’ve told you about Momo.”

“I’ve never been the other woman with anyone. It feels wrong.” You voice out loud, and you mean it. Remorse that you’ve been causing him to hurt this girl who seems to genuinely like him gnaws at your brain again.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry okay? This kind of just spiraled out of control and I don’t wanna make excuses for myself, but I just wasn’t thinking right when she asked me out. I was just thinking about you and didn’t wanna lose you.” His expression is serious, matching the certainty in his tone.

“Jimin, I believe you, but if you want me still, you have to break it off with Momo. You shouldn’t just keep her around to be a placeholder.”

“I will! If you want me to, I’ll break up with her. When do you want me to?”

“Uh, I don’t know. When do you think you should?”

Scratching the back of his neck nervously he breaks your gaze, staring at the ceiling.

“Well, uh, I mean I don’t think I should do it while we’re here, I mean that’d be hella awkward wouldn’t it? We just got here and I at least want her to have a good vacation, you know?” 

Frowning, you mull his words around in your head. If he breaks up with her now, on day two of vacation, they still have the rest of the week to awkwardly be around each other and your families. He has a point, that maybe he should at least let her enjoy the week before breaking things off.

“I guess so. But does that mean we should stop -”

“Please don’t say that!” Jimin cuts you off. “I just, I can’t go this whole week without kissing or touching you. I’ve already had to wait months to be with you again. I’ll go crazy having you so close and not being able to do anything. I know it’s wrong, but can we please keep being terrible people for just a few more days? I need you.”

Jimin’s distraught, the idea of this being the only time he gets to be in bed with you distressing him.

Against your better judgment (including your conscious which is so loudly reminding you how terrible cheating is) after just a few seconds you break down, agreeing you won’t stay away. You’ve already fooled around for the first six months of his relationship, so what’s another week?

“Fine. But you need to end it with her when you get home, okay?”

“Thank you!” His eagerness makes you laugh. You smile up at him and he returns it tenfold, his eyes disappearing with the gesture.

“Want to take a nap with me before we have to be perceived by our families again?” Jimin jokes, clearly really wishing you’ll say yes.

“Sure, Minie.” He eagerly rolls back over on his back, opening his arm to beckon you over to him. Phone in hand you oblige, helping him take off the used condom first, then snuggling into his embrace.

It’s completely normal to cuddle and sleep with your friend with benefits. You and Jimin have done it before and it doesn’t make things weird. You tell yourself over and over as you drift off.

“Jimin?!” A call of Jimin’s names has both of you jolting up, wide-eyed and alert. “Jimin! The deadbolt is on!” Momo’s voice calls to Jimin from the other side of the hotel door. You and he share one single look before you fling yourselves from the bed, scrambling for your clothes. 

He gives you a panicked look as his phone rings from under your shirt, Momo’s picture showing on the screen. You toss him his phone as you pull your bandeau and shirt on, desperately scrounging around for your panties.

“Hello?” He clears his throat when he answers while pulling his shorts up.

“You’re in the room, but you’re not opening the door! I heard your phone.”

“Shit, sorry, I’m in the bathroom, but I’ll be right out.” You’re both clothed then, but the realization that you’re trapped in the hotel room with him with only one way out hits you.

“Hurry up. I want to shower, before dinner.”

“Okay, I’ll only be a few seconds.” He hangs up and looks as though he’s ready to cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you whisper to soothe him. “Look, I’ll get under the bed. When she’s in the bathroom, I’ll make a run for it, okay?”

Pouting, Jimin agrees and he goes to unlock the door as you crawl underneath the hotel bed.

You listen as Momo comes into the room. The sound of them sharing a kiss has your face scrunching in discomfort. 

“Ew, Jimin, did you just puke or something? Your face smells weird.” Momo smelling you on her boyfriend makes you both mortified and oddly prideful.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, I did, sorry. I wasn’t feeling great, but I’m alright now.”

“If you start to feel icky at any point tonight let me know,” she coos at him before walking across the room to the bathroom. “I’m just going to shower then we can get ready and go.” As you’re about to crawl out, you see her feet appear again. Luckily you’re half out on the floor on the side of the bed that she can’t see. “You can join me if you want to of course. We have plenty of time before we have to meet everyone else.” What you presume to be Momo’s tube top falls to the floor and from where you are you can see Jimin gawking at her.

“Yeah. Okay. Let me just um, make sure my phone is charging.”

“M'kay. But don’t leave me waiting.” Her feet disappear into the bathroom again and when you hear the sound of the shower you scurry out and dash across the floor on all fours to get past the bathroom door and to the room door. 

Before you sneak out, Jimin leans out to kiss you, not caring that he just did the same to another woman. 

“See you at dinner.” He says with a smile. He pokes his head out into the hallway before you, citing it was clear and you slink out, giving him a final kiss before rushing to your room. The shower is running when you enter so you call out to Sunyoung.

“Hey!”

“Y/n? Where were you? I came in and you weren’t here.”

“Oh yeah, I wanted a pre-dinner snack so I went downstairs to grab something. I lost track of time.”

“Answer your phone next time! I know you don’t like boats but I brought you a dolphin shirt anyway!” You glance at the shirt on your bed, another rush of guilt washing over you. Your best friend was thinking about you while she was doing an activity that you were afraid of while you were fucking her brother. 

An unpleasant feeling swirls in you as you couple this with nearly getting caught not even five minutes ago and you spend far too long standing in the middle of the room. Should you keep doing this? Is this crushing remorse worth it? You’re conflicted and start to descend into a heavy conversation with yourself when Sunyoung calling your name stops that in its tracks.

“What?” You yell back, louder than intended.

“I asked if you wanted to shower too. I’m almost done.”

“Oh, yeah, I will,” you nod even though she can’t see you. Seeing how you’re still covered in your and Jimin’s sweat from earlier, you realize how gross you feel.

“Alright, I’ll leave the water on!” You get ready for your shower, trying to talk yourself out of the headspace you’re entering. You’ll do some more soul-searching later, but for now, you want to carry on the rest of the evening as if your life is normal. Thoughts of Jimin and what you do with him will have to wait.

Your Jimin thoughts intrude quicker than you wanted them to. When you meet the families downstairs for dinner. Everyone is dressed fairly formally since your parents scheduled a wine tasting after dinner. Jimin and Momo join you and Sunyoung in the elevator and you have to pinch yourself to stop staring at him. Form-fitting black slacks hug his muscular thighs and ass. A black button-down with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. You’re convinced he’s doing this on purpose - that he remembers just how much you appreciate it when his clothes fit him just right.

During dinner, your families sit at a large round table and somehow you’ve lucked out sitting across from Jimin. You can’t stop yourself from teasing him, seizing this opportunity to slip your shoe off and rest your foot against his thigh. 

He jumps, using the excuse that he felt a chill.

“Maybe if you weren’t walking around with your shirt open like you’re somebody,” Sunyoung snorts.

Jimin sneers at his sister. “I look better than you.”

“In your fucking dreams. Shut up and put your pepperoni nipples away.”

“Fuck off!” 

“Hey, both of you shut up!” Mr. Park chides his kids. Both Jimin and Sunyoung shoot each other one last dirty look before Sunyoung turns to talk to you. You do your best to listen and ignore yet another negative wave of emotion rolling over you. That back-and-forth reminds you once again of who Jimin is. You watched him and Sunyoung argue with one another since Jimin was in elementary school. And his dick was in your mouth mere hours ago.

You toss your glass of champagne back, telling yourself as loud as you can to stop. “Stop with so many self-realizations and just enjoy your vacation! It’s only the second night!”

You’re determined to listen to yourself, and you do so through the rest of dinner. Even after that, when your families move to another large room for the wine tasting. You and Sunyoung giggle and chat over glass after glass, focusing on nothing but you and her.

By the end of it, you have a sufficient buzz going, and you’re feeling much better. You go to bed easily, falling asleep in no time with much less stress than you had earlier.

Wine can only do so much for you. You quickly learn as the next few days go by. When you’re not with Sunyoung or with your parents or both families, you’re taking any opportunity to be alone with Jimin. Whether it’s letting him finger you in the stairwell when everyone was spread about the resort or sucking him off in the bathroom while everyone was waiting for their desserts after dinner. 

Your time at the resort is only a week, so even though your conscious is beating your ass every time you sneak away, your pussy refuses to listen, only focused on the feeling and the sensation that is Jimin. 

The only problem is after you both get what you want, you’re distracted by how terrible you feel afterwards. After sleeping with Jimin as long as you have been, you’ve been able to expertly suppress any negative feelings about what you’re doing. This week has been incredibly trying on you, but you can’t pinpoint why (or, rather, you refuse to acknowledge why).

Is it because this time away was supposed to be about spending time together and having fun with your family, but you’ve only been focusing on getting off? Or is it because you know that after you make Jimin cum, he’s going to sleep next to another woman who may also do the same for him on the same day? 

It’s likely to be both of these things, coupled with how long this secret has been festering, but you can’t stop. It’s selfish and it makes you sound as though you have a sex addiction, but your body responds to Jimin in a way that you can’t replicate with anyone else and you crave it, so in a way, you are addicted to him. 

You crave it so badly that in between scuba diving and shopping you’re holing up somewhere secret for a quick fuck. You can barely keep track of the lies you’ve told Sunyoung or your parents this week, but you know it’s more than you think you’ve ever lied to the same people in such a short amount of time.

Even with all of the acknowledgment that what you’re doing is wrong and with all the people impacted around you in mind, you still text Jimin on the second to last night of your stay at the resort and tell him to meet you at the jacuzzi outside around midnight. 

During the day, both families have a beach day and with everyone staying in the sun most of the day, playing volleyball and frisbee, everyone is more than ready for bed after dinner. Your dad reminds everyone that tomorrow is your last day and therefore will be a family day. Knowing that this may be your last opportunity with Jimin since tomorrow night, you’ll likely be too focused on family and packing to leave the next morning.

You and Sunyoung watch a movie before bed and once it’s over and she’s sound asleep, you creep out of the room, already having put on your bathing suit underneath, and tip-toe into the hallway and to the elevator.

Jimin is already sitting on the edge of the hot tub, shirt off and feet in the bubbling water.

“I didn’t think you’d beat me here,” you chuckle, your voice making him jump.

“Oh! Yeah, Momo went to bed early because she thinks she has food poisoning.” 

“And instead of caring for her you’re here with another woman.” You shake this thought away, pulling off your pajamas and watching the way Jimin’s face lights up at the sight of your light blue bikini that leaves so little to the imagination. 

You toss your clothes on the pool chair with his things and don’t miss how he watches intently as you step into the hot tub and lower yourself into the water. When you beckon him in with a crook of your finger, he hurries in next to you, his chest pressed against your arm. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching as the few other couples out for a night swim a few feet away from you go back inside, leaving just you and Jimin outside. The sky is dark, but the stars are shining bright enough that it’s not pitch-black. The outdoor area is equipped with fancy-looking string lights around and the smell of the ocean lingers with how close the resort is.

The whole thing would be romantic if your relationship with Jimin wasn’t what it is.

“Tomorrow’s the last day of vacation.” Jimin mumbles. When you glance at him, his head is reclining against the built-in headrest. 

“Yeah, it is. And it’s family day. I think our parents want us to go on a tour or something.”

“We’ll barely be able to spend time together, and tomorrow you’re going to get on a plane and go back to New York.” His words are low and sullen. Each time you’ve been hooking up when you’re together in person, he always gets in a gloomy mood towards the end. He’s happy to be with you but never looks forward to when you leave.

He’s pouting up at the sky, likely too much in his head. To distract him (and yourself to be honest) you shift to turn and place small kisses on his neck. The water lets you easily slot yourself between his legs as you move up to kiss him.

Jimin wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer, his tongue immediately poking out to rub against your lips. You open your mouth, letting Jimin in, both of you messily making out, your hands grasping at any wet body part you can touch.

The sounds of the night dissolve around you as you melt into Jimin, savoring every clash of teeth and tongue since you may not get much of a chance tomorrow. 

When you finally pull away, you press your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“I need you, Y/n,” He juts his hips forward, to emphasize his words, the hardness in his pants knocking into your leg. “Since this could be our last chance for a while.”

Your eyes quickly take in your surroundings. The two of you are still the only ones outside that you can see. Most of the windows overlooking the pool are dark and/or have their curtains pulled tight. Any open curtains are on much higher floors, way too high for anyone to look outside and see what’s going on. 

“Fine, but we have to be quick. We don’t want anyone coming outside and seeing us.”

Nodding Jimin agrees, his hands immediately reaching out to grab your waist. He slips a hand easily into your bathing suit bottom, his warm fingers flicking your clit.

“Ah-” Jimin’s lips land on yours, muffling the yell you nearly let out. He keeps kissing you as he picks up the pace, pinching at your bud a few more times before slipping a finger inside of you with ease.

“Gotta stretch you out for me, princess.” Your eyebrows shoot up at the pet name, but you don’t object. Jimin sounds nervous saying it, but your reaction gives him the confidence he needs, his finger moving faster. He brings his thumb up to rub your clit, making you bury your face in his neck to stifle another moan.

Not knowing where to put your hands you decide to pull his swim trunks down enough for his cock to pop out and wrap a hand around him to start stroking him.

“Fuck…” he hisses the word, his fingers slowing down for a second before he recovers to begin again.

The two of you kiss again, spending who knows how long exactly whining into each other’s mouth, working one another up.

You jerk him off rougher, his body shaking against you and he has to grab your wrist to stop.

“I want to cum in you, not in your hand,” Jimin says matter of faculty. “Hang on.” He turns, twisting and stretching his body enough to grab the leg of the chair holding with your things and pull it closer. He digs around in his pant pocket for a second before coming back with a condom.

You let out a snicker, watching him tear it open and roll it on. 

“Did you plan to fuck me in the hot tub this whole time?”

Sheepishly he shakes his head. “No, I promise I didn’t! I was just hoping that we would find somewhere to use it. I wasn’t going to be picky where.” He gives you a tiny smile, hoping you still want to go.

“That’s fine…I was going to find somewhere to have you take me too,” you admit.

That’s all the reassurance Jimin needs. His lips are on your neck as he pumps himself underwater. 

“Pull your bottoms to the side for me,” he whispers, the huskiness in his voice immediately making you quiver and do as he says. 

Jimin’s cockhead grazes your thigh, then your clit, before it breaches your entrance, Jimin bottoming out immediately. Neither of you moves for a moment, letting your walls adjust to him. 

Shakily, you tell him to move, and he does, starting slow, the water around you barely rippling. For a better angle, you hop a little with enough force to wrap your legs around his waist. Jimin turns, still inside you, so that your back is against the jacuzzi wall. He uses this new position to move faster, trapping you between his body and the wall.

Soon enough, Jimin stops being gentle, driving his cock into you deeper with each thrust and taking your breath away each time. 

“O-oh, fuck, Jimin!” It’s a louder cry than you intend, both of you peeking around, but he doesn’t falter. Once again, he swallows any more of your sounds with his mouth.

“You can cum if you’re quiet, princess.” The mere authoritative tone has your eyes rolling back as you nod your head. You’re so used to being the one that demands, more or less, that you never thought about Jimin taking on that role. You’ll desperately need to let Jimin take the lead more often.

One of Jimin’s hands is still holding under your ass while the other wedges between your bodies to rub your clit again, and you’re already embarrassingly close to cumming.

Whining into his mouth makes both his hand and finger move quicker, pushing you to the end. Mumbling his name, the tight coil in the pit of your stomach snaps, as you cling for dear life to Jimin. Your nails accidentally dig into his shoulder as you do and he hisses in response.

“Y/n..” This time his words are back to a whimper. “So tight around my cock!” Jimin’s fingers dig into your ass and your thigh as he throws his head back body shaking with his own orgasm as he bites down on his bottom lip.

“Yes, come on, Minie, fill me up.” You pepper his neck with kisses as you rock your hips softly, letting him ride out his pleasure.

A few more choked moans slip past his plump lips as he comes down, carefully slipping his softening cock out of you. You kiss once more, the jacuzzi now starting to feel too warm.

“Y/n, I miss you already.”

Smiling, you reach up to brush back his sweaty bangs.

“I’m gonna miss you too you know. This week flew by too fa -”

“Hey! No!” A rush of voices from behind both of you has you leaping apart. Jimin fumbles to tuck himself back into his swim shorts and you have to quickly pull your bikini bottoms back into place. 

Two men and a woman dressed in the resort’s employee attire are yelling at you and Jimin as they approach. The woman points to a sign behind you that you hadn’t even noticed. There is a list of things it clearly says you aren’t allowed to do which include not bringing glass drinks to the hot tub, not being naked, and no “inappropriate activities.” Above the sign is a security camera and upon seeing it, embarrassment takes over from head to toe. The fear of them witnessing you and Jimin having sex in the hot tub makes you want to vomit.

“We’re sorry! So sorry!” You and Jimin talk over yourselves, apologizing over and over again.

“Out!” The woman says, beckoning you both to get out of the hot tub and you do without question. 

She explains that since you and Jimin broke such an unsanitary rule, the resort will be charging you a clean-up and disinfectant fee. The account that the room is under will be charged. You nearly burst into tears, begging her to pay it upfront since you already know your dad is going to question the additional fee on the receipt. The employee says no, it has to be the card on file. She warns you not to let it happen again or you’ll be banned from the resort - not that you think you’ll even ever return after this.

You attempt to plead to her once more when the sound of the fire alarm going off stops all conversation. She tells you that she will get your name the reservation is under and the room number later, but for now go outside to the front of the resort. You and Jimin hurry into the hotel behind the staff, walking with the crowd of other guests who are going out the front door. 

“Y/n!” Sunyoung’s voice cuts through the crowd and fear overcomes you. Pretending you didn’t hear her you weave through everyone, hoping you can hide out in a spot outside where she can’t see you.

Once outside, you and Jimin manage to blend into the crowd, ignoring the looks from everyone at you and Jimin being the only ones in pool attire, seeing how you both forgot your pajamas by the hot tub. You stay behind a palm tree, as all of the guests mill about, waiting for the okay to go back in.

It takes about twenty minutes before they find the alarm to be false and allow everyone to begin going back inside. 

“Okay,” you whisper to Jimin, keeping your eyes open for any of your family. “If anyone asks, we can just say that we both happened to go out for a late-night swim at the same time. I’ll say I wanted to get into the jacuzzi before we left.”

“And I’ll just say I couldn’t sleep.” You nod at Jimin, both of you confident that this will pass. 

“Y/n!” Sunyoung calls you again, having found you both in the crowd. She grabs your arm, stopping you, and you see Momo and both sets of parents behind her. “I called you when everyone was going outside, but I don’t think you heard me.” She eyes your bathing suit and Jimin’s swim shorts. 

“Where were you, Jimin?” Momo asks when she approaches, also inspecting what you both are wearing.

“Oh, I uh, I couldn’t sleep, so I went out to the pool.”

“Yeah,” you cut in. “I went down to get in the jacuzzi before we leave tomorrow and saw Jimin was down there too. Then the fire alarms went off, and a staff member rushed us out before we could grab our clothes.”

Everyone seems to buy this excuse, although Sunyoung is squinting in a manner that tells you she’s replaying the story over in her head, and she may be the only one with obvious reservations. 

“Well, let’s go and get your clothes, then try and get back to sleep.” You nod, all set to do as your mom says, and leave this behind. When you file back into the resort with the last few guests, you’re feeling better, completely forgetting that the staff is still intending to finish what was started.

“Hey, excuse me,” An employee you don’t recognize stops you all, and you instantly feel like you’re going to throw up again. “You’re the two that were in the hot tub.” She says it rather than asks. She hands you and Jimin your clothes, frowning as she does so. “What is the name your reservation is under?” She powers up her iPad, waiting to type in what you tell her.

“I’m sorry what’s going on?” Your dad steps in, which you’re thankful for because you’ve forgotten how to formulate sentences. 

“Seeing as they broke one of our jacuzzi rules, we need the name of their reservation because they will be charged a fee.”

“Wait, what? They’re in trouble for getting in the hot tub? What, is it closed after midnight or something?”

The staff member assesses the situation, eyeing both your dad then you, and Jimin. Your eyes dart to him and he’s gone paler than you’ve ever seen him. He’s frozen in place and you swear he doesn’t blink.

“These guests-”

“Y/l/n! Room 519!” You blurt, your voice cracking as you say it. The staff member taps away on her screen. “I’ll pay you back, dad.” You promise, hoping that he’ll leave it at that.

“Now, hold on, I could swear the pool area is open twenty-four hours. What the hell am I getting charged for?”

“Yeah, who’d they hurt by swimming at night?” Your Mr. Park chimes in. Every word that’s spoken around you sounds like white noise creeping in slowly. This isn’t going to end the way you want it to. This isn’t going to be the end of it. You’re not going to go back upstairs and go to sleep then go through tomorrow as normal. It’s as clear as day that this is where things go to shit.

“Please, calm down. Our pool and jacuzzis are indeed twenty-four hours, but we have a no inappropriate activity rule in our public spaces and these guests broke that rule. It was addressed and they were told not to let it happen again, but we still have to charge an additional sanitation fee.”

“What? Inappropriate activity? What does that even mean?” Tears well up in your eyes as Mrs. Park looks between you and Jimin.

“Y/n,” Your mom says at the same time, gingerly placing her hand on your shoulder. When you turn to look at her she’s frowning in a way that tells you she knows exactly what that means.

“Mom,” Jimin whispers, urging the conversation to end. The staff member spares you and your families one final look before turning and walking off, leaving eight of you standing in the middle of the lobby in silence, save for your sniffles.

With your stomach twisted in knots, you run to the stairs, deciding that crawling up seven flights of stairs is better than standing with everyone doing nothing. You’re huffing and puffing when you reached your floor and take time to catch your breath, pulling your pajamas on, extremely relieved that the room keycard and your phone are still in your short pockets.

It’s quiet as you walk past rooms to your own. You stop in front of Jimin’s door and press your ear to the wood. You can’t hear exactly what they’re saying, but you can hear raised volumes and fast-talking. In front of your door, it’s quiet, but you’re sure Sunyoung is on the other side, most likely seething.

Stepping inside the room, you see her going around the room tossing her things into her suitcase. When she sees you, she freezes, holding your gaze for a few seconds before wordlessly going back to what she’s doing. If you know Sunyoung, which you do, you know she’s formulating how to tell you off. Cautiously, you go to sit on your bed and see that she’s packing your suitcase.

“What are you doing?” You question softly, to not stir her up.

“Packing your shit. You’ll be staying in the room Jimin and Momo are in, and Momo is coming here. We figure since you and Jimin want so badly to be together, then you may as well share a room.”

“Sunyoung, let me explain.” Tossing your complimentary robe and slippers in the suitcase, she stops and crosses her arms. 

“Please do, since apparently, you’ve never explained any of this to me before.” She’s simmering, but you continue.

“I didn’t tell you about us because I thought you’d be mad. Knowing your best friend has been sleeping with your little brother is weird, and I figured it’d upset you.”

“You’re right, it would, and it is weird, but you know what, that was the second reason I was pissed when I just found out. I was even madder to know that you’d been lying to me the whole trip! All these excuses about being tired and shit were just so you can get into my brother’s pants! Admit it!”

“Yes. I lied all those times, and I’ve been lying to you about us.” Saying the words out loud has you tearing up again.

“How could you not tell me?! Yes, I would’ve gagged and made fun of you guys for eternity, but Y/n, come on! You’re my closest and best fucking friend! If there’s anyone I’d want my brother with, it’d be someone I trust with my life because I know that she’d never hurt him. I would’ve gotten over it, but I’m pissed right now!” She stomps her foot, also looking close to tears, but you know hers are full of anger. 

“Did you even come on this vacation to see me?” Her lip quivers and you jump up to hug her, but she puts her hand out to stop you. 

“Sun, I’m sorry, I was just scared, okay? I was scared of being judged and your parents hating me.”

“You know, Y/n. You always do this thing where you assume how other people will feel without talking to them. Like that time in middle school where you were changing algebra classes because the teacher hated you but you kept it from me because you thought I’d be mad even though I knew how much she sucked.” 

“That’s one time and I was trying to be considerate.” 

“And then remember when Joshua asked you out in 11th grade and you didn’t say anything about it until I overheard him telling his friends you rejected him.”

“I knew you liked him! I didn’t want to upset you and make you mad at me!” 

“See! You always just assume the worst of how I feel and you keep shit from me. Not only is this the longest-running thing you’ve hidden, but it’s about my damn brother!” 

In all honesty, you never realized you had a bad habit of doing this until this moment. It’s always good-natured, but having Sunyoung chronicle your behavior has you rethinking.

“Sun, listen, I’m sorry, okay? I truly didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Well, you did. And you also hurt Momo - both you and Jimin did. She’s a really sweet girl and she treats Jimin well. I’m pissed at both of you.” 

You want to say something else, but a knock on the door has you halting. Sunyoung goes to open it and you see Momo on the other side holding her bags. Her red eyes don’t meet yours as she gives Sunyoung the key in her hand and disappears into the bathroom. 

“Give me your keycard.” Sunyoung demands and you don’t argue. She takes the card for this room and gives you, what you presume, the card for Jimin’s room. Wordlessly, she walks over and zips your suitcase up, placing it on the floor and sliding it over to you. 

“Maybe we’ll talk tomorrow,” you try on your way to the door.

She just shrugs and climbs into her bed, eyes blankly looking at the tv as she turns it on. Clearly, the conversation is very much over right now. You give the room a once over and leave, defeated and tired. 

The keycard she traded you, is, in fact, the key to Jimin’s room. When you walk in he’s already in bed, under the covers, and nothing but a lump. 

“Jimin?” You call quietly but get no response. Unsure if he’s truly sleeping or pretending, you say his name again and get nothing.

Rolling your eyes, you leave your suitcase to the side and decide to just go to bed. You’ll deal with Jimin in the morning, but for now, it’s much too late to still be awake.

Knocks on your room door startle you awake. Jimin isn’t next to you, and the bathroom across the room is dark. Bleary-eyed, you get up and open the door, your mom on the other side. She gives you what seems to be a sympathetic once over and tells you to get ready and that everyone is already up and getting ready.

Jimin waking up and leaving you behind stings, but you bury that as you carry on with a lightning-speed shower and get changed. 

Downstairs, your parents and Mr. and Mrs. Park greet you, but no one else. Neither Momo nor Sunyoung pay you any mind and Jimin doesn’t return your greeting. The two women you expected, but why the hell is Jimin icing you out?

He doesn’t say anything on the ride there, but it’s expected with everyone around. All of you pile onto a bus with other tourists, waiting to be driven around the city and shown the sights.

When you arrive at the first destination and you try to speak to Jimin, he conveniently turns to engage with his mom who quickly strikes up a conversation with him, successfully squashing your attempt.

It’s even clearer he’s purposely avoiding you by your third stop after he successfully manages to avoid any chance you will try to confront him. With both him and your best friend ignoring your existence, you feel like utter shit. You do your best not to let it show as the day wears on, mustering up enough willpower to pretend to be interested in the structures and sights, taking pictures you barely put care into snapping. A few other tourists in the group talk to you and even though you want nothing more than to stew alone, you engage.

The day drags on hour by hour until it’s the end of the day and your tour guide takes everyone to a restaurant near the resort for dinner. Your group of eight settles next to the other tables of the tour group and starts placing orders with waiters. Sunyoung knocks back drink after drink and at some point in the night the alcohol finally catches up with her.

“Mrs. Y/l/n, can you pass me the chips?” She points to the basket that’s sitting between you and your mom. “I’d ask Y/n, but she’ll probably lie about why she can’t give them to me.” Silence in the group until her comment catches up to you.

“Oh come on, Sunyoung.”

“Come on what? You lie. It’s what you do. Or wait you’ll lie about not giving them to me and say it’s because you thought I would think they are gross without even letting me try!” 

“Sunyoung, I said I was sorry! Sorry for lying and assuming how you’d feel. This time and apparently every other time I’ve done it.”

Sunyoung leaps up, pointing at you. “You didn’t apparently do shit, I’m telling you you’ve done it!”

“Sunyoung…” Her mom warns, but she stays standing, hands on her hips. 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” you start, trying to keep your voice down. “I’m sorry for lying and sleeping with your brother and not telling you!” 

“You should be! Jimin has always gone out of his way to talk about you and I should’ve known something was weird but I was too stupid to pick it up I guess. Why else would he always bring up my friend more than me.” You and Jimin share a brief look before he averts his eyes. You never imagined he’d talk about you when you weren’t around. You swallow the urge to ask what he’s said.

“And I can’t believe you’ve been sleeping with my best friend!” Sunyoung yells, pointing at him. “You’re my brother and you didn’t tell me!”

“How was I supposed to tell you?! You would’ve thought it was weird!”

“Everyone stop fucking telling me how I’d feel!” Sunyoung shrieks and everyone in the restaurant turns to look at your table, getting quiet. 

“Park Sunyoung, that is enough!” Her dad bellows. Fists still clenched, she plops into her seat with no retort. 

“Truly,” you begin. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, and I know apologies don’t change what I did, but just know I can’t say sorry enough.” You turn to your parents and the Parks. “And I’m sorry to you guys for ruining our vacation. I did want to see everyone and have a good time, but then I messed it up by being selfish, I didn’t plan on fucking up everything the way I did. And Momo, I’m sorry for sleeping with your boyfriend. I didn’t -” 

You don’t get to finish your apology, because before anyone can stop her, Momo rises from her seat, grabs her drink, and throws it at you on the other side of the table. 

Everyone freezes, including any other guests that saw.

“Momo!” Jimin gasps, but for him, she snatches up the large bowl of salsa in the middle of the table and dumps it over his head. She’s storming out of the restaurant before anyone can stop her.

Sunyoung, watching both you and Jimin in horror, decides to stumble out of her seat and follow her out. The rest of you don’t say anything else, but your mom helps blot at your clothes while Jimin’s mom helps him wipe his hair.

Shame washes over you as the other tourists and restaurant patrons whisper about your group and what happened. You deserve this. Sure, you wanted nothing more than to run outside and kick Momo’s ass, and normally you would, but in this situation, you can't deny that you deserve it. So you stew in the nauseous, anxious feeling in your stomach and the way tears are oh so close to slipping. It feels very much like public shaming and you wouldn’t say you didn’t have it coming.

The ride back to the resort after dinner is nothing compared to the one this morning. The bus is stifling, the air thick with aggression and weariness. Momo is the first out when you arrive, stomping into the building and far from everyone. Wordlessly, Sunyoung follows her, then Jimin. You’re left to ride in the elevator with the parents alone, clothes uncomfortable and sticky. Just as you think you may burst into tears at the sheer embarrassment, Mr. Park speaks up.

“Y/n, we want to let you know we’re not as upset about this as Sunyoung.” You’re shocked truth be told, but let him go on. “Last night’s erm, incident, was shocking, but you and Jimin are both adults. Cheating is wrong in any aspect, and don’t get wrong, we’re extremely disappointed in you both for it.”

“And for lying to everyone,” Mrs. Park chimes in.

“Right, and lying to everyone. But we appreciate your apology. It seemed genuine, so just know we’re not upset with you.”

“Besides, if there’s any girl we’d want Jimin to be with it’s you. We don’t trust anyone else.”

They both give you reassuring smiles, and you let a few tears slip. You appreciate their forgiveness, but you feel as though you don’t deserve it. You voice this, but they assure you they’re not mad. Shocked and annoyed initially, yes, but they again voice that you’re all adults and can work through what you need to.

Your mom reaches out to hug you, wiping your tears. You say goodnight to both sets of parents, your dad saying he loves you then reminding everyone that all of your flights are at eleven. You all plan to ride to the airport together and say your goodbyes there. It doesn’t seem likely that the goodbyes will be what he has in mind, but it feels refreshing to know that at least you have people still supporting you in the mess you and Jimin made.

When you enter the room, Jimin is sitting on the edge of the sofa in the room, head in his hands. He looks up when you shut the door, the expression on his face unreadable. You plop on the couch next to him, and he doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t run away from you.

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been ignoring me all day?”

“Everyone hates us.” Is his response.

“Our parents don’t hate us.”

“Yeah, I know, I talked to them this morning when I got up. But they were disappointed. And Sunyoung is so fucking pissed. And I know Momo definitely hates me. She broke up with me last night.”

“Well yeah, you’re probably right about her.” You put a joking lift to your tone, hoping it’ll ease some of the tension, but it doesn’t. Instead, Jimin whips around to look at you; his expression is grim.

“I should’ve said no. I should’ve stayed in the room.” The way he says this makes your throat feel tight for some reason.

“Well shit, sorry I asked.” Your words are sarcastic, but your chest feels heavy.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe we should’ve just had a regular vacation with our families and not did… what we did. I have a girlfriend, Y/n.” His last words are accusatory and you gape at him.

“Yeah, I know you have a girlfriend. You know you have a girlfriend and yet you still fucked me this entire week. Hell, you knew you had a girlfriend for the last six months and still hit me up begging for tit pics any chance you got.”

A blush breaks out across Jimin’s face in embarrassment and shame. “Because I can’t fucking stay away from you! I can’t stop seeing you and hearing your voice and touching you, and talking to you. I can’t say no to you, Y/n! I’ve never been able to!”

You stand, looking at him incredulously. “There’s no way you’re trying to blame me for this whole thing. There's absolutely no fucking way.”

“You know how I feel! You know how I feel, yet you never want to commit. Whenever I bring it up, you change the subject or end the conversation. That makes me feel like shit, Y/n!”

“Jimin, we had a good, casual thing going. I thought it worked for both of us.”

“It works for you, Y/n. I deal with it because I want to have you any way I can, and since you won’t let it be romantic, I’ll take it physically.”

You blink at him, mind moving a mile a minute. “Jimin, do you think now is the time to get into this? Shouldn’t we be worried about your sister forgiving us and talking to us again?”

With a huff, Jimin jumps up. “When Sunyoung wants to, she will. You know how stubborn she is and that there’s nothing we can do until she feels like giving us the time of day.” He steps closer to you, looking as if he’s contemplating reaching out to touch you. “Y/n, can you just tell me how you feel about me? Clearly, you’re into me in some way, but how do you actually feel?”

“I -” Words catch in your throat as you struggle to formulate a response.

You know you’re impossibly attracted to Jimin. That’s a given. He’s sweet and loves making you laugh. Before everything on this vacation went to shit, he always went out of his way to make everyone, but especially you, laugh at something he says or does. Jimin is kind and so gentle; possibly one of the most considerate people you’ve ever met. In that same breath, you can also call him bratty and a little spoiled, but even then it’s endearing and it still makes him who he is.

Jimin is artistic and passionate. He loves dancing and has always been gifted at it. He’s done dance covers online for years and is always entering competitions and predictably winning said competitions. He didn’t get into the school he applied to in New York, but he goes to school near home because he’s so determined to fulfill his dreams. You admire him for staying so dedicated and working to do what he loves.

The list of things you like about Jimin goes on but you can’t seem to say the words to him. Everything is just wrong right now and the idea of vocalizing and admitting to him (and yourself) that maybe you feel more about Jimin than you should.

“I don’t think we should do this right now, Jimin.” 

He stares at you hard, his eyes scanning yours, searching for anything else. “Forget it, Y/n. It’s clear we’ve just been wasting each other’s time.” He finally says. Dumbly, you stand there as Jimin grabs a pillow from the bed and storms out without another word. You scream in your head, scolding and shaming yourself for not saying something, but you can’t get anything to come out that will make a difference.

Without another word he’s gone, slamming the hotel door behind him. Silently, you shower and get ready for bed, making sure all of your belongings are packed. The room is hauntingly quiet and the bed is cold as you lie there alone, your brain full of so many different things you want to say and think and do, yet somehow, you doze off before you muster the motivation or courage to do anything else.

You’re up and out of bed before the sun has barely risen. While you were able to doze, that’s all you did. No deep restful sleep and barely any dreams. Just bathroom breaks and staring at the ceiling. Jimin never came back to the room, as the bed is still empty when you get up.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face you’re out the door. Standing in front of your parent’s room you go back and forth. You don’t want to wake them up but you’d feel even worse than you do if you left without saying goodbye.

Taking a breath, you knock, deciding having them be a little tired later is better than fleeing in complete and total cowardice. 

Your mom is the one who answers, yawning widely in her pajamas and slippers.

“Y/n?”

“Hey, mom, I’m sorry to wake you guys up.”

“What’s going on?” Bleary-eyed, she eyes your bags, frowning more.

“I’m gonna head out for the airport. I don’t need to stick around.”

“What? Y/n it’s…” she cranes her neck around to the closed room curtains seeing barely any semblance of the sun peeking around. “It’s so early.”

“I know, but I just want to go home. I’m exhausted.”

“You didn’t sleep well?”

“Mom…I just wanted to say bye.” She must hear the utter defeat in your words and pick up why you want to disappear because it only takes her a few seconds to relent. She calls into the dark room to wake your dad, who eventually drags himself out of bed to join at the door.

He puts up much less of, a fight, cutting you slack and simply bidding you goodbye. You exchange hugs and ‘I love yous’ and they easily let you walk away with a promise to text them when you arrive at the airport and when you make it home safely. 

You wince at the lump in your throat, willing yourself not to cry. You’ve held the bulk of it in for the entire trip and refuse to give up yet. 

The universe cuts you some slack when you get to the lobby to hand in your key. None of the staff members that caught you and Jimin are there, thankfully. Only a different team who all thank you for coming and wish you safe travels.

As you get into the shuttle van and settle, you take one last look at the resort. Realizing just how hyperfocused on Jimin you’ve been since day one, you had no time to appreciate the large, bustling building. The white marble and aqua blue curtains in all of the windows pair well together, looking both expensive and upscale. You wish you could’ve taken in more of the look of your room and the inside, but your mind only plays memories of everything that has taken place over the past week on a loop.

The ride to the airport and getting through it to your gate seems to go rather quickly; a stark difference from how it all seemed to drag when you had arrived at the beginning of the week. Once you’re settled in and waiting to board the sun is higher in the sky. A glance at your watch tells you it’s after 6 am and you imagine that your parents are still just getting up if they were able to get back to sleep.

Before boarding, you send them a text, along with a long heartfelt text to the Park parents, apologizing again. Both of their kids hate you at this point and it’s your fault so you want them to know how sorry you are again and how much you still care about them as if they are your own parents. They reiterate what they did in the elevator, leaving you with the reassurance you desperately need.

Your phone was devoid of a single call or text from Jimin or Sunyoung for the rest of the day. Silence from them turned into two days, then four, five, then three weeks, rolling into a month. The desire to reach out to them is strong, but if there’s one thing the Park siblings are, is stubborn.  Having gotten into your fair share of disagreements with your best friend, you know that she’s the type of person that comes to you when she’s ready. Unsurprisingly, Jimin was the same way. You’ve heard plenty of complaints about fights with his friend over the years so you know he definitely picked up his temper from his older sister.

Even so, a month of silence felt like a year. You and Sunyoung would, at times, go weeks without talking because life gets in the way, but on top of this being your most serious fight, it was also the longest you’ve gone without speaking in some form. Added on the reason why you’re not talking and this silent treatment truly hurts. 

But still, you do your best to accept that they both need time. And frankly, you do as well. Time to decide completely, what it is you want from Park Jimin.

Truly, you try your best to wait them out, but you don’t make it another two weeks before you break down and whip open your phone contacts.

You’re home after a long day of work and even as you try to relax on your couch, all you think about is Sunyoung and Jimin. A month and a half is the longest you’ve gone without talking to either of them. With Sunyoung though, it hurt more. The fear that you may lose your closest and most important friend, keeps eating away at you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Along with the near-crippling guilt of hurting your best friend, is the pain of hurting Jimin. Taking the time since you’ve been home to yourself has given you time to sort your shit out. Sticking to nothing but work and errands, you kept to yourself this whole time to avoid the opinions and thoughts of others.

The solitude has helped you conclude what you’ve probably always known: you like Jimin. You like Park Jimin as more than a steady, casual hook-up. You want to date Jimin and call him your boyfriend and learn everything there is to know about him that you don’t already know. 

You have to tell both he and Sunyoung that you want to fix things, and it can’t wait anymore. 

Opening your texts with Sunyoung, your fingers hover over the text box. A wall of text seems impersonal. Briefly considering voice memos, you decided against that too, knowing you have too much to say to keep it brief. A social media DM is just silly and out of the question, and you’re terrified of hitting the call button and getting a swift rejection.

With a deep breath, you open your camera app, flip it to selfie mode, and decide this is the right way. A video is the easiest way for them to hear you and see you while also giving them a chance to pause your words when they need to and time to formulate their responses.

Hitting the record button, you work to get your thoughts in order.

“Hey, Sun. I miss you. I know it’s hollow, but I do. I fucked up. I said I was sorry already, but please know that I will say it as much as you want me to. I’ll do anything to make you not hate me anymore. You’re the closest to a sister I’ve ever had and I don’t want to lose you. I promise I’ll do whatever you want me to do to prove how sorry I am. And I won’t keep anything from you anymore and claim to know what you’ll think or say about decisions I make that impact you. Please know I love you and won’t keep secrets anymore. That’s why I want to tell you first that I…” you falter, willing yourself to say it. 

“I like your brother. I like like your brother and I’m going to tell him. I wanted you to know first. You’re my platonic soulmate and I don’t wanna keep doing this shitty thing called life without you. You can take all the time you need, I’ll wait until you’re ready to deal with me again, but I do hope it’s soon.” You give the camera a weak smile before ending the video.

With a sniffle, you go back to your messages with Sunyoung, counting to three before you attach the video and send it. Once you see the small ‘delivered’ message under the video you flee from the screen. Sunyoung’s read receipts are on and you don’t think you can handle seeing her in real-time see the message.

More internal prep is done before you hit the record button again to start Jimin’s video. “Jimin, hey. Uh, I don’t know how to start this really, so I’m just gonna tell you that I’m sorry again. I’m sorry for stringing you along the way I have and I’m sorry for influencing you to cheat. I just couldn’t stand seeing you with someone else that isn’t…isn’t me.” You falter at the end but keep going. “I know that I keep derailing any talk of us being together for real and I’m sorry. I just really didn’t have a handle on how I felt about you. Or, at least I thought I didn’t. Maybe I was in denial because we started so secretive and I was truly so scared of what your sister would think so I kept pushing it away and in turn, trying to push all of my feelings for you away, but it didn’t work and I was just so shitty to you.”

Pausing to take a deep breath, you close your eyes, attempting to calm your beating heart. “So you asked me how I feel and the answer is that I like you. I like you a lot Jimin. I have so much fun when I’m with you and I mean that in so many ways. I’m so comfortable with you and I feel so safe and happy and I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel like that. You’re such an amazing and good person and you deserve the world and more. I don’t know if that’s me since I’ve fucked up so much already, but please know I’m ready and I’ll wait for however long you need me to. I know now that I want you as more than someone I sleep with. I want all parts of you, Jimin, and I just hope you can forgive me somehow.”

Once that video is sent, you close your messaging app and toss your phone aside to get ready for bed. It’ll surely take them time to watch the videos and decide when and how to respond. After leaving yourself open and vulnerable, you go about your evening, trying to chase away the itch to cling to your cell phone.

The self-control you’ve been trying to adhere to dissipates as after two days with no response, you’re scrambling to check your text messages. Jimin’s message was delivered, so you know he didn’t block you, but you can only hope he’s watched it. The grey ‘read’ under your video to Sunyoung taunts you. She’s at least opened the message but has said nothing about it so you’re still left wondering what’s next.

A glance at your watch tells you that you have another hour before you clock out. Believe it or not, spontaneity isn’t typically your thing, and yet you’re feeling a sense of urgency you’ve never felt. Both Jimin and Sunyoung decided not to respond and at this point, you’re in desperate need to know what they think and how they feel and the urge to see them in person is what fuels your next move.

A one-way ticket back home for a flight tomorrow is nearly $500 and that price makes you choke, but you seriously toy with the idea. Since it’s Friday you can fly out tomorrow morning and make it there by the afternoon. From what you remember, neither Jimin nor Sunyoung works on Saturday and even if they do, you can just wait for them at home. You just hope that you’re not turned away when you get there and that the trip won’t be for nothing.

After clocking out and shutting down your work laptop, you open up the app on which you were eyeing the tickets. You bite at a hangnail, the decision stressing you out with each passing moment. Even if they did turn you away and want nothing to do with you, you can at least see your parents again. Plus, if you bring your laptop, you can always work from home still. 

Pacing back and forth, you move to complete the booking, packing on your mind but the buzzer of your building sounds indicating a guest stops you from checking out. Pocketing your phone, you move to the callbox to answer, anticipating one of your friends on the other end, but it’s no one from the city.

“Er, hi Y/n. Can me and my sister come up?”

Jimin. Jimin’s voice is coming from the callbox downstairs. Outside of your building. 

“Jimin? You’re with Sunyoung?” You ask, hoping you haven’t fallen asleep and are dreaming.

“Yeah. We want to talk to you. Can you let us in?” Nodding, even though he can’t see you, you buzz them in and sprint to the front door to watch for them through the peephole. 

Sure enough, in a matter of minutes, Jimin’s gorgeous face comes into focus. Sunyoung is behind him, expression either tired or annoyed - you can’t quite tell.

The door is open before they can knock and then you’re all standing there, eyeing one another hesitantly. 

“Well, can we come in?” Sunyoung demands more than asks and you hurry to move aside and let them into your apartment. 

They’re both wheeling medium-sized suitcases behind them and Sunyoung leaves hers by the door as she walks around silently, taking in the studio around her while Jimin stands awkwardly in your living room.

The question as to why they’re in front of you right now nags at you, and it’s the first question you finally blurt out.

“We got your videos,” Jimin says first. “We talked to each other and then decided we needed to just fly out.”

“This whole thing is too dramatic and chaotic to do all over the phone so I didn’t wanna bother.”

Jimin rolls his eyes at his sister’s brashness. “Our parents helped us pay to get out here and we’re here for the week to fix things with you. We had time to think and talk to each other about the whole thing when she finally let me explain myself to her. I told her every way I could that we didn’t intend to hurt her.”

You nod furiously, agreeing with him. “Truly, we didn’t do it with ill intent and we didn’t not tell you because we thought it’d be fun to keep it a secret! It just kept going on and we’d sneak around more and then it just became the norm.”

“Yeah, Jimin told me all that. I was just mad because two of the most important people to me were hiding something from me and it felt so shitty. I love you both a lot, you know. Don’t keep any secrets from me ever again.”

“We won’t, I promise! I’m so sorry again, Sun. I probably sound like a broken record with how much I’m apologizing but I mean it.” You hold your breath, waiting to see her reaction. She moves first, crossing the room to catch you off guard in a hug. 

“I already accepted Jimin’s apology at home so I accept yours too. I also think I overreacted by being as pissed off as I was. I let my bad temper get the best of me and I’m sorry too.” She pulls away but keeps her arms around you, fixing you with a hard stare. “Also, shitty stubborn asshole or not, just know I’d never let this ruin two decades of friendship. If Jimin hadn’t broken me down and told me to get over myself I may have just ignored everyone for like another few weeks or so and then got over it. I realized I was starting to miss you too.” Her features soften at the end of her words, finally giving you a sunny smile and pulling you in for a hug again.

Relief fills you, knowing that your best friend still wants you in her life.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sun.” 

“I don’t know what you’d do either,” she jokes, the two of you hug and share a laugh.

The sound of Jimin clearing his throat nearby breaks the moment. You’d momentarily forgotten he was standing by. Sunyoung’s eyes dart between the two of you. She moves away first, grabbing her large overnighter bag from the floor. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna shower and get the plane germs off me. The two of you can have your little make-up scene. Pretend I’m not even here.” You point her to the bathroom, and she ducks into it, but not before popping her head out once more. “But maybe don’t pretend that hard and start fucking or something. At least wait until I’m out of the building completely!” She slams the door shut behind her, and you hear the shower creak to life.

Hesitantly, you turn your attention to Jimin who’s looking out of your window to the city below.

“Nice view.” You speak first, sarcasm in your voice as you try to ease the tension.

“Huh?” Jimin blinks as if he’d been lost in thought.

“I said the view is nice, but I was just kidding, is all.” The view of the alleyway between you and the building next to you is less than stellar.

Jimin stares at you for a few seconds before looking out the window.

“Okay, Jimin, I-”

“You know I shouldn’t even be here.” He cuts you off and you let him, biting your lips together to let him kick this awkward conversation off.

“A lot of the time, I felt like you’ve just been using me for sex. You knew I’ve been into you since the first day I met you and you still refused to give me more than sexting and quickies. I should’ve stopped letting you have that part of me a while ago, but I couldn’t. I couldn't stop thinking about you or missing you, or wanting you. Anyway you’d have me and whatever I could get from you I'd take. It sounds toxic and I sound pathetic, but I can’t help it. I even selfishly dated a girl to pretend she could fill the void I only wanted you to be in.” Jimin looks at you again, and the conflicted, hurt look on his features is easy to read. The guilt twists in your gut, realizing just how much emotional turmoil you’ve put Jimin through.

“You’re right. I knew how you’ve felt about me all this time, but honestly, I don't think I took your feelings that seriously, especially not for most of the time knowing you. I guess I just always thought it was always just a childhood crush and nothing more and then when I realized you did feel much more than that for me, I didn’t even think about doing anything more than hooking up. I put my fear of judgment and my pleasure over your real, genuine feelings and I can’t say how sorry I am.”

“I want to be with you, but I need you to be sure you want this, that you want me for more than sex.”

“I do!”

“And I don’t wanna be a pity date or anything. I can’t be.” Jimin’s voice breaks at the same time as your heart. You want so badly to reach out to him, but you don’t. The ball is in Jimin’s court and he can call all of the next shots.

“You won’t be! I mean it Jimin, I want everything with you. I want the dates and the good morning texts and the cuddles that don’t lead to sex. I want to call you and talk about our days and the things that make us upset and I want to say you’re my boyfriend and create memories together. Memories we can cherish and look back on during all of our anniversaries. I want all of you, I truly do.”

Jimin is frozen in his spot, mind reeling at your words. It’s your first time finally admitting your feelings for him, so you can't fault how hesitant he seems. You’re both silent for the next few seconds only the shower running and the air conditioning unit in the window are heard. 

“Okay. I’ll let you in again. I’ll trust you.” He approaches you and the urge to meet him halfway takes over. Warmth envelopes every nerve in your body when your bodies meet.

“I’ll prove that you can trust me. Your heart is safe with me.” Jimin pulls you into a kiss, unlike any of the countless kisses you’ve shared. This one has your lips tingling, your heart racing, and your blood pumping in your ears. The kiss feels like forgiveness and comfort and an overwhelming sense of something close to love. 

You let Jimin’s arm trap you against his broad chest, his heart beating like crazy underneath your palms. This feels like your first real kiss and you vow to get so many more like this. You don’t deserve the endless kindness that Park Jimin has but you mean it; you’ll do everything in your power to prove to yourself and him that you’re serious about this relationship.

Jimin and Sunyoung decide to stay in the city for the rest of the week, the three of you making your studio work. Sunyoung makes a compromise, pushing her brother to buy her noise-canceling headphones so she can at least not have a chance of hearing anything the two of you do in your bed, which isn’t a lot, considering his sister is a few feet away. Still, it’s enough to make up for your lost time not communicating.

You take them around the city, the three of you doing your best to compensate for all the missed opportunities you didn’t get to spend on vacation as a trio. Spending just a week with two of your most important people makes you terribly homesick as you want more than anything to go back home to see them more, just like before you all got older and drifted away. 

Your heart both leaps and aches each time you swap a story with them or share a bout of laughter, the thought of not seeing either of them for who knows how long after this week is up weighing on you. More than anything, you realize that once Sunyoung and Jimin are back home, you’ll be left here on the other coast, all alone again with a mediocre job in a mediocre apartment without a real, trustworthy support system.

These thoughts swirl in your mind still on the last night of the week that they’re with you. They’re so prevalent, that you can’t hold it in anymore and blurt out what’s been on the tip of your tongue, in the middle of your anime marathon.

“I want to move back home.” Both siblings whip around to look at you. Sunyoung snatches the remote to pause the tv.

“What?”

“Well, spending time with both of you has reinforced just how lonely I am in the city. I moved out here for school and that fell through, then I scrambled to find roommates who were nice, but I hated living with them. Then I scraped together enough money to move in here, and, I’m just not happy. I don’t have anyone I’m super close with and if I’m not at home or in the office working then I’m getting food alone and shopping alone, with the occasional club or concert with some people I call acquaintances and that’s it. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want everyone to know what a mistake I made but I did and I’ve regretted it for a while.”

Your voice cracks as you go on, but the weight of your confession quickly lifts from your shoulders. Keeping this truth has been such a burden, but it finally feels like now is the time to admit it and you’re so happy you did.

Both Jimin and Sunyoung listen to you and share a look over your shoulder.

“When’s your lease up here?” Jimin asks first.

“Uh, I don’t remember, maybe 6 months or something?”

“Well, that’s 6 months to figure out how we’re getting all your stuff to California.”

“And,” Sunyoung adds. “That’s 6 months to figure out where we’ll live!” You give her a questioning look and she laughs. “Of course, we’re moving in together, Y/n!” She leaves no room for arguments, not that you mind.

“I’m sure we can find a nice two-bedroom apartment somewhere.”

“No fair! What about me?!” Jimin whines, making you roll your eyes endearingly.

“You still live on campus and have another year doing so. Plus, I’d prefer to date more before we move in. But it’s not like you won't have a key.”

Your boyfriend pouts still but sighs in agreement. 

The three of you end up talking more about possible parts of California to live in before heading to bed, reveling in the feeling of Jimin’s arms around you for the last time for a few months.

“Okay, so I’ll canvas some spots and let you know. If I find anything good, we can video chat as I do a tour, or I’ll record places for you, cool?”

“And once you decide on a moving company, I’ll help pay to get them to bring your stuff. I don’t want you traveling across the country alone, okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll handle any logistics over here and will keep you both posted. And again, do not tell my parents yet! I’ll tell them closer to the move-out.”

Sunyoung reaches for you first, hugging the life out of you. “I’m so excited to have you home!” 

“Me too!” Once she eventually decides to give her brother a chance to say goodbye, she excuses herself, making up a reason to go check a flight board off to the side.

“I’m gonna miss you, you know. Even more than before, which I didn’t even know was possible.” Jimin’s words make you feel giddy. After doing nothing but hooking up for so long, this week has been so different. Sure, you still couldn’t keep your hands off one another, but it was more than that now. Your time together was soft and easygoing. You both had been so used to fast and hushed, but you easily fell into a sense of comfort and relaxation with Jimin as your boyfriend. Things made sense when you were with him and it felt like the very thing you’d been missing for so long. You can’t wait to spend as much time as possible with him.

“You better text me when you land. I need to know you made it there safe.”

“I can do that. And you better do the same. I need your Uber driver’s info and all of that.”

“Of course.”

The two of you stand hand in hand, taking in each other’s features for as long as you can.

“We gotta get through security now, Min.” Sunyoung interrupts and jerks her head in the direction they need to go.

Jimin gives his sister a nod before turning back to you. He lets go of your hands, moving to gently cup your face, and leans down to meet your lips. Electricity shoots through you at the sensation of Jimin’s soft lips. You inhale his cozy, fresh scent, wishing you could bottle it to keep forever (but since you can’t, the t-shirt he left on your bed will suffice).

“Can’t wait until you get home. I’ll miss you.” He whispers against your mouth.

“Miss you too.”

With another quick peck, he’s gone then, running after his sister who yells her goodbyes over her shoulder.

You watch until Jimin’s red hair disappears into the crowd and once you’re sure they’re both gone, you turn towards the escalator to leave the airport. As you’re waiting for your Uber, your phone buzzes as Jimin’s name pops up on the screen.

You scoff at the text. 

Jimin’s three simple hearts make your stomach flutter. You too can barely wait for the next six months to go by, but you’ll be counting the days until you can see your best friend again. And her brother, of course.

[bangtansmauyeondan]

MOONSTRUCK | Part 4 - Still Alive (Text between images.)

Pairing: Seokjin x Fem Reader | Namjoon x Fem Reader

Genre: F2L, social media au, soulmates au, office au, slow burn, fluff, implied smut, angst, slight crack, and drama. (Inspired by BTS - Moon)

Summary: You don’t know what the world looks like without Seokjin. Growing up in the same neighborhood, a low iron fence separating your family home and his, your lives have always been tangled up with each other. So much so, that after graduating college and securing your respective jobs, you decided to pack everything up and move to the same apartment building in the city— him, sharing a unit with his younger brother and his college bestfriend; you, sharing a unit with your younger brother and his equally chaotic bestfriend. Eternal neighbors thing, right? Or is that all there is to it?

A/N : INTERACTION BETWEEN MIYOUNG AND OC! I repeat, INTERACTION BETWEEN MIYOUNG AND OC!🌙

MASTERLIST.

Taglist: @bts-reveries @tan-dulset @persphonesorchid @joonjoonsmiles @jayhope88 @thatbangtanjagiya @anaceciliaxr @justinetingball @halesandy @yoongleskitten @onemanbandarmi @juju-227592

••••••••••••

Miyoung’s face lit up when she saw you and Jin enter the restaurant. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and you with a casual hug, before introducing you both to her manager, Lauren. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were just introduced to world renowned personality, Martha Stewart— she gives you that vibe. The elderly yet very elegant woman possessed that certain warmth to her as she took your hands and gestured for you and Jin to sit down. “It’s not everyday that we get to work with a Michelin star chef, we’re very honored!” she gushed. She looks smitten with him as well.

“Ah no, no, no… it’s my pleasure to be invited here and see you work, ma’am,” a flustered Jin replied while motioning for the elder lady to sit first. Miyoung eased into the conversation the moment you were all sat down, “Shall we have them bring out the food then?”

•••

The starters were little canapés of saltine crackers topped with tartar sauce, caviar and dill, served with micro-greens and arugula salad on the side. Jin gave you a knowing look when he saw how your face tensed up when the plate was served in front of you and he jumped right into action when he saw you poke the caviar little by little off the small pile, “Here, you can have some of my salad,” he started transferring some of his salad to your plate, “and I’ll take those canapés.”

“Do you want more canapés, Jin?” Miyoung looks appalled.

“No, no, I’m good. Yn can’t have them—“

“Oh,” Miyoung turned you with a fake smile plastered on her face, “you can’t have caviar?”

“Right, I can’t. Caviar gives—“

“Too fancy for your palate, Yn?” she chuckles covering her lips with her pristine manicured fingers. “I’m just kidding! I actually—“

“Actually, her palate is too fancy for this caviar,” Jin interrupted. “Tell her why, Yn,” Jin gave you a wink. THIS MAN. You wanted to strangle him right then and there.

“Right, well…” you cleared your throat before spewing pretentious lie after lie, “I can’t have caviar without knowing where it came from. Is this Almas? It looks like a hackleback to me. What time was this harvested?” you smiled sweetly at Miyoung. Jin started slowly sipping on his wine beside you trying to hold back his cackle.

“Oh, umm…” she looked at Lauren who immediately jumped into the conversation to save her.

“This caviar is not… Almas. This is in fact tobiko,” she explained.

“AH!” Jin exclaimed and worked his charms, “I am so sorry, Lauren. Tobiko gives her little rashes around the mouth, so it’s okay. She can have the salad and I will enjoy my second helping of the canapés.”

After the tension of the caviar incident died down, all of you fell into an easy conversation about work in general and a little bit of life in Busan. Lauren has figured out that you all have known each other for a long time already and all of you are doing well in your respective professional fields. It’s not long after when the main course was served and the steak looked and smelled delectable. There’s just one problem though…

“Seokjin, the steak is on a bed of mashed potatoes,” you told him with a deadpan expression.

“Yes, it looks delicious, eh?” It’s the second time in the span of an hour that you wanted to physically assault him. He had the audacity to wink at you again too.

“It does, Jin. But like I said, it’s on a bed of mashed potatoes,” you repeated the word through gritted teeth, “PO-TA-TOES.” And that’s when it dawned on him. He mouthed an inaudible ‘o’ before sheepishly smiling. Of course the two ladies sitting across from you did not miss the exchange.

“Is there something wrong?” Lauren worriedly asked.

Miyoung let out a hearty yet fake laugh right next to her, “Relaaaax, Yn. Do you also have a specific potato preference? It’s just potatoes. It’s not gonna kill you.”

Lord knows how much patience it took for you to suppress all the words you wanted to say right to her face.

“No, you’re right. It’s not gonna kill me, but it might kill him,” you replied to Miyoung while intently staring her down.

“Yn…” Jin reached out and patted your knee under the table.

From the corner of your eye, you could see how uncomfortable Lauren was. “I’m so sorry, Lauren. I really do appreciate the invitation you extended to Jin and I am grateful to have been included as well,” she nodded and smiled at your words, seemingly understanding, “but I think Miss Lee Miyoung here should have informed Jin of the menu beforehand, if she wanted him as a respondent,” you shot Miyoung a look which she avoided, “you work with food a lot, I am pretty sure you are aware of the allergens present in food. I am allergic to seafood, I don’t have a fancy palate. Jin reacts badly to patatin enzyme, which can be found in both potatoes and garlic, so that delicious-looking medium-rare steak sitting atop a bed of mashed potatoes doused in garlic butter? Lethal for the Michelin star chef you said you’re honored to be working with,” you explained to the now-dumbfounded ladies sitting across from you. “Jin?” you waited for him to pick up on your little speech.

“Yeah, Miss Lauren, Miyoung— I’m very sorry, and it’s been great seeing you today. But we really need to get going,” he looked at his watch for a more convincing effect, “I have to drop Yn off at her workplace since her lunch hour is almost over.” Jin smiled and shook the ladies’ hands before handing you your coat, shrugging his on, and almost literally dragging you out of the restaurant by the hand. You needed to get out of there and grab a quick bite somewhere else fast!

[minniepetals]

love poem

— summary: for years you’ve suffered for the longest time and for years they’ve hurt without understanding the true meaning behind it all. soulmates connected through the hearts, soulmates connected through the slightest touches, and when they finally meet their last soulmate, the seven gods vowed to themselves that they will love and protect you for the rest of their immortal lives

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, angst, soulmates!au, poly!au, gods!au, god of knowledge!namjoon, god of stars!seokjin, god of music!yoongi, god of sun!hoseok, god of spring!jimin, god of ocean!taehyung, god of hearth!jungkook

— word count: 29.0K

— warnings: mentions of death, mentions of war, minor character deaths

— prompt: "It won't be easy you know...trying to love me"

— a/n: i hope you guys haven’t forgotten the dear; sweet bubbies project. sorry i’ve been so slow on these requests but here is the second installment! for you bubs @hope122598​

Soft crispy crunches follow your footsteps as you walk among the snowy path, the wind seeming more restless than ever this morning. Little bits of snowflakes descend from the sky, falling and falling in an endless cycle for the snowy mountains will never come to understand what Spring looks like.

For days upon days and years upon years, you have always prayed to see what it will be like to live with warmth, in a home of hearth, in a shelter that can provide comfort and heat to your body and mind. But you know that as you walk up the path of the mountain, stairway long ruined since over many years ago, with the hood of your cloak constantly hoping to leave your head and the wind howling all around, wishing alone will only get you so far.

The morning sun brings no heat for you, icy particles kissing your cheeks from time to time and leaving you bright red from how cold it is.

But you're used to this.

It's okay. 

Fog escapes your lips as you huff to catch your breath once you make it up, basket of firewood covered with a blanket safely secured in one hand, and you are met with a wooden archway that is so close to toppling over. But it remains firm as ever, as if its fragile looks is only just a façade and that it should look this way.

You walk under it, paying no mind with no fear of it collapsing, and follow the path that flows into your village. White blankets cover the wooden roofs of the abandoned homes and you hear something falling off and hitting the ground with a thud.

Another wooden platform destroyed.

Everything is silent saved for the song of the wind and the crunches of the snow under your footsteps. But you hear the distant sound of the children's voices echoing in your memories. They laugh and shout at one another, giggling about as they jump into piles of snow or slide down a hill on a wooden sled that their fathers have made them. You hear the distant chiding of their mothers who is angry they aren't bundled up for warmth, missing a hat, missing a glove or scarf. You hear the aunties and uncles speaking to one another in cheery voices as you pass along each house, empty and left alone.

They ask each other upon how their days are, whether they have wood to spare, whether their homes are warm enough for their families, whether they have any heated water to share. The young adults complain about the howling wind, grunting and grumbling as they open their doors only to quickly shut it as they tighten the strings around their hood to keep it firm upon their heads. They huff as they stuff their hands into their pockets, frowning and pouting with baskets hanging upon their arms because they had been asked to gather woods from down the mountain.

You don't see the elderlies in your memories but you know they're here, in their homes, tucked in safe and warm and telling old tales of stories upon stories whether real or folktales. The little ones will gather at their feet near the fireplace, excited and anxious about what stories they will hear today.

You see the smoke from chimneys, you see the homes in good shape, and as you stand in the middle of the village's center where festivals, celebrations, and gatherings are often met at, you turn around to take a good look at the village that used to be so lively and filled of energy.

Now gone.

Replaced with broken houses, torn roofs, shattered windows, doors left ajar and broken. The shadows of the villagers, the ghost of the children who runs around in front of you, shouting at one another, the adults laughing and conversing, the teens rebelling and pranking, and the elderlies telling stories where the big bonfire should be...dissolves away from your memories.

Left only with the distant sounds of their laughter. Echoing and echoing in your ears.

As if it is still there, their precious lives, only for you to be reminded all over again that no, you are alone. No one else survived the horrid attack that came unexpected and terrifying.

The memories are still so clear in your head, the shouting, the screams and cries for mercy, the parents begging for the lives of their children to be spared, the howling dogs that would bark nonstop, and the blood that spilled so much that fateful day. Your mother kept you safe in your own home, ran out there pretending she has no daughter while you remained under the basement, muffling your cries as you watched from the window of the slaughtering of your tribe.

You heard loud footsteps then, the crashing and trashing of things, and had shattered a window in order to pick up its shard to stab yourself near your stomach, at a place you know will not bleed out too much and will not kill you.

You laid on the floor, hiding the shard away when the man kicked the door out of its hinges with a wild dog running in. He found you there, laid as if someone had already came to stab you to your death, with you only in your harsh breathing to pretend as if you have indeed just died. But the dog came over to you, sniffing, and you knew that he knew that you were still alive. That you were only pretending.

The quickening of your rapid heartbeat tells him so and it only grows worse so he barks at the owner and you prayed so hard that the man could not understand him.

And he didn't, so he left you, believing someone had already taken care of you and demanded for the dog to follow him out. You held your breath even as they both left the scene.

And even then you remained where you were, knowing there was no other place to run to and just letting fate decide what to do with you. If someone else barges in and finds that you have only faked your death then you would accept his sword at your neck, your heart, wherever he desires.

So here you stand in the middle of a village, a tribe that was once so alive and filled of beautiful people and the warmth of a lovely fire.

Now all locked in the memories of the wind. Gone for you to never see again.

.

.

.

The God of Spring stands a few feet away from the wisteria that lays in the center of the celestial palace, watching as its colors of lilac, blush, and the skies, are only growing a bit weaker as the years pass by and by. It hasn't been in its full bloom and glow since the moment Jimin had grown it hundreds of years ago. Throughout the many years upon finding his fated ones, he's seen the tree grow taller and bigger, so very close to reaching its maximum goal if only he could find one more thing it needs.

It's gotten so magnificent one would think this is its full bloom but the God of Spring knows that there is something missing.

Many leaves have fallen, scattering about like little petals all around the tree but the wisteria remains tall and firm. Yet time is running out and he knows that it will only last a few more years before the bloom will disperse and he himself will weaken.

"Jimin." The Spring God turns at the gentle call of his name and finds the God of Ocean by his side. He watches the tree with awe and wonder, a sight he has gotten used to throughout the years of his immortality. Although Taehyung finds the tree that represent their love so very beautiful, he also understands that something is not quite right. Not yet at least. "What is on your mind, my love?"

He can easily read the God's mind without needing to voice out the question but he feels the need to listen to his soulmate's sweet voice that always calms his waters down.

Jimin shifts slightly, brows creased as he catches a small petal falling from the vines and fluttering down to the marble floor, meeting its fate with the other petals that have already fallen. A breeze passes by from the opening circle that gives sunlight and rain for the tree to grow and he breathes in the fresh air, closing his eyes for a moment. "We must hurry, Taehyung," he tells his lover.

When Jimin takes his hand into his hold, Taehyung understands exactly what his soulmate is feeling at the touch. Jimin has allowed him to read his mind with the touch alone and he knows, he knows that Jimin is beginning to feel restless. The wisteria is only now beginning to wither in a slow passing of time but it will fall to its roots if nothing is done about it.

Taehyung understands that Jimin is afraid, worried, because he knows that there is still a missing piece of their puzzle that has yet to be discovered; their missing soulmate. A soulmate whom they have no idea of, a soulmate they know they must not have met yet because otherwise the wisteria wouldn't look so weak in Jimin's eyes. They must not be an immortal, a god or a goddess, they must not live up here where they are in the realm of the Gods.

But they have searched and searched and searched for years yet no village, town, nor kingdom holds the answer they are seeking for.

"Why must they be so hidden?" The Spring God questions with a deep sigh that makes him so tired. "It was so easy finding you all."

"Fate is not always the easiest," his soulmate reminds him and he nods, sighing again as he turns from the wisteria. "Seokjin has not found a solution yet," Taehyung answers his question before it is spoken aloud while they walk away from the celestial tree. "Jungkook has been feeling very cold recently."

"It must relate to Jungkook." The God of Hearth should not be shivering and feeling the cold get to him in such strong waves. He is meant to be a fireplace, warming up all that is around him, giving fire to the mortals down below.

"But we have searched the land of the mortals," Taehyung says, knowing how long both Seokjin and Namjoon, the Stars and Knowledge Gods, have worked to try and piece everything together.

"Perhaps we are overlooking something."

"And what do you suppose that is?"

Jimin doesn't know. All he understands is that they must find their last soulmate and they must find them soon. So he continues walking on past the door that leads out the center of the palace, brows still creased. "We must return to Earth again, Taehyung. They have to be there."

"How are you sure?"

He shakes his head, not truly understand the logic behind his thoughts. "I just have this feeling." Jimin stops walking and turns to look at the Ocean God with a conflicted gaze resting in his eyes. He takes his lover's hands and press them to his heart to let him feel his heartbeat. "Will you trust me, my love?"

Taehyung smiles. "With all that I have."

.

.

.

It is freezing when you walk into a home that had once been so lovely. Everything is dark now, windows no long a thing because they had all been shattered and thrown out when the raid happened several years ago. You have no money for yourself, knowing how wrong it'd feel for you if you took your mother's money or any of the villagers.

Sure they're gone but for you they are still living inside your heart, their souls roaming around in the village, watching over you, spending their wonderful lives all around the tribe.

You miss them all, you miss everything that had once belonged to the tribe, a small little village where no one should have been able to find. Yet fate is cruel and left you alone to live in a village that is ghosted and no longer in blossom. Sometimes you wonder how you are still alive, and why. Why you? Why not your mother? Or another adult? Or another teen? Maybe a child.

No.

A child would have not been able to survive and neither an elderly.

You heave out a deep sigh that fogs up, relieved for at least the walls of your house keeping the howling wind from freezing you further. You stare down at your fingers and take off the wet gloves.

You have to sew up a new one again. After all, wet clothes in the snowy mountains can never dry warm again, not with the situation you are living in.

You wonder whether given the ability to hunt would have made things easier for you. You'd be able to get your own food, wouldn't you? Instead of living off on herbs and vegetables that are so very hard to grow and find in the endless winter you have been placed in? You don't remember the last time you've had a proper meal, you don't remember the last time you've ever bathed in warm water, or was wrapped up in soft fury blankets, or seen the fire from a lamp.

There are no animals that roams around your village, not even the falcons or eagles fly up here. You are alone. Truly, truly alone.

A tribe that is kept hidden from the other humans, isolated, kept for no one to know it exists because that is how you all live. Everything was going well, a tribe built upon your ancestors for years upon years, only to be washed down by a raid no one was prepared for. Hence you cannot leave this place to try and find your own happiness, to try and find your own Spring. You are the only one left to keep its memories and traditions alive.

Though it is hard, it has been years. You aren't sure how many years you have left. You haven't spoken to anyone in years, haven't felt the touch of anyone since the last time being from the cruel wild dog.

You want to hold someone's hand, wrap your arms around them, have their arms wrapped around you. You want to be loved and you want to love. You want warmth from another man, you want to be touched, just...touched. Whether a small sensation from the tip of a finger or have it held around you. You miss having the advantage to just wake up and greet your mother, jumping her from the back and having her scold you for surprising her every time even though you know more than anyone that she doesn't truly mind it.

You miss her so much. You miss her smile, her gentle fingers brushing your hair away, her kind gaze as she'd look upon you, the crease in her brows as she'd worry for your health when you'd catch even the slightest cold. Your mother was only growing older by the day. You can still remember her falling ill, a turn of events on you to take care of her instead.

So you did.

You bathed her, brushed her soft hair, woke up early to cook her breakfast in the morning before she woke up, sewing both yours and her coats up, went out to collect firewood and herbs, made remedies to keep her health steady, did everything that you could to be a good obedient daughter.

She always worried you wouldn't have time to yourself, urging you to go to festivals or leave the house in general, telling you to go spend some time with your friends, maybe even find someone that has interest in you because she apparently knew there were a few boys in line waiting. You'd always laugh it off and shake your head, not caring about it because you were still so young. But your mother would insist, telling you she'd want you to be with someone that will take care of you well as you were taking care of her.

But you told her that all you needed was her and no one else.

She always frowned at your stubbornness but you weren't going to care for someone who just wanted you because of your face. You want someone to love you for you, past your flaws, to understand everything about you but still loving every part of it.

Mother called you a romantic, you told her that was how father was too and she'd laugh, saying "like mother like daughter."

Indeed.

Because when the raid came in, you asked her to go hide in the basement but she told you otherwise, screaming at your stubborn self, telling you that this is her dying wish. She doesn't care whether you will wed or not, whether you can be a good wife or not, doesn't care about anything except for your safety and protection. You told her you just wanted to spend her last moments with you.

So she held you in her arms, tears endlessly falling, kissing you on the head and whispered "I am here. Always."

And then, she pushed you into the basement and locked the doors.

After hours passed since you last heard the wild dogs fading away, you finally stood up on your feet to bravely leave your basement doors, clutching onto your abdomen with hissing pain.

You found your mother's dead body lying at the entrance, door left ajar, and sobbed and sobbed endlessly because she was no longer breathing and just laid lifeless. You took her into your arms, tears rolling, begging for someone to just make it all better even though you knew more than anyone that that will never happen. You rocked her in your arms for the longest times, forgetting about your own health with blood that still slowly oozes from your body.

Her precious bracelet that your father made for her lied on the floor beside her body, snapped into one single string with beads spread out. You went on to collect it and put it in your pocket, carrying your mother up away from the entrance door and laid her on the couch.

You left her to grab the herbs and remedies to treat your wound and took your cloak half an hour later, leaving the door of your house, and is met by the sight of blood and dead bodies laid on the floor of your village. You ran around, calling, shouting, for anyone to hear you. You barged into homes, rooms, basements, one after the other, calling uselessly for anyone. You walked a few miles away, calling and calling, screaming from the top of your lunges, wondering whether anyone had been dragged away and left there alone.

But there was no one.

No lives were spared.

The children, the poor children, laid alone and in the arms of their loving parents who tried to protect them. Couples held onto each other's hands in their last moments, the grandparents laid by the fireside that no longer runs with fire.

No one was spared. All, everyone, laid on the floor of your village. All of them left dead.

The traumatizing experience spares you no mercy because in the end, it is you that has to carry the bodies of your tribe, digging holes after holes in order to bury every single one of them. You had no wink of sleep, fingers cold and numb yet still forced to work hard and carry their heavy bodies. Your mother was the last of them all, body left spent after all that work, crying and crying endlessly because you could do nothing to protect them, not even one of them, and now they all lie dead under the ground.

All except you who was only seventeen years of age.

.

.

.

"Jungkook?" The God of Music is quick to hold the youngest God whose legs can't keep him steady on his foot. He shivers in Yoongi's arms, shaking, and tears are escaping his eyes before he can try to stop it.

"H-hyung.." Jungkook shudders, breath leaving fogs although the room itself is nowhere near cold. Yoongi can understand him without needing to hear words, a touch alone letting him read his thoughts in an instant. Jungkook tells him what today is, the same day that repeats every year and makes him extra cold though he has no reason why. His heart aches, fingers going numb, and head begins to pound.

The God of Hearth should never feel this way, he has always been powerful just as his soulmates, but this day, this particular day always comes around every year and as he comes close, he feels the shivers until the morning sun appears again and January 24 is here, making him the weakest at this day.

He believes that it relates to their last soulmate, a soulmate hidden from the world and no where to be found with no information except that they are still alive. Alive yet hurt.

"It hurts," Jungkook cries. It is not his pain that he is feeling, it is not his tears that are crying. These do not belong to the God of Hearth but to someone else. "It hurts so much, hyung." Yoongi holds him safe and steady in his arms but this time Jungkook cries his real tears as he leans into the touch of his soulmate, crying because he hurts knowing their last soulmate cannot feel this comfort and warmth for themselves. He begins to beat himself up, angry and frustrated that he can understand these feelings but cannot do anything to make his soulmate feel better.

"We'll find them," the God of Music promises as he presses a kiss to the youngest's head. "We'll find them."

He lets Jungkook know that Jimin believes they must be on Earth and Jungkook begins to think so too. He lets him know that Jimin and Taehyung are preparing to leave when Hoseok raises the morning sun in the mortal realm, that Seokjin and Namjoon will follow. And Jungkook lets him know that he wishes to go to.

He has to know, he has to finally find them, wherever they are.

.

.

.

When the morning sun awakes you, you sit up heavily from the cold, cold bed, shivering and letting out a deep sigh. Yesterday may be over but the memories still lies so vividly in your mind. You drag yourself out of bed, brushing your teeth, washing your face that makes you shiver again because everything is so cold. The kitchen greets you with an empty refrigerator that makes your brows furrow because your stomach growls and you are so hungry.

You sigh again as you head back into your bedroom to grab your cloak and wrap it around yourself, taking a straw basket that you weaved years ago with the help of a loving mother's hand, and put the hood on your head as you step out of your home.

The little children greets you in your memories, the ghost of the adults waving you good morning as you walk down through the memories of their lovely smiles, a few asking you to fetch them certain herbs and chicken eggs as well. You nod at their souls, smiling faintly and saying "Of course, I will be back with them."

A small little boy tugs at the sleeve of your dress and you stop to look down at the ghost of little Mingyu. He wishes to travel down with you but you shake your head, telling him you will be back soon to play with him. He pouts but upon your words, Mingyu doesn't go against you because he loves you like his own older sister.

When you pick up your feet again after bidding him goodbye to continue walking, your face falls as you walk past the wooden archway, chest tightening for a moment and nose thickening because you miss them all. You miss little Mingyu.

But you blink away the tears before it can freeze upon the cold wind, greeting the bright sun that shines above with a tight smile and walk down the little broken stairway made of leveled down snow that leads to the foot of the mountain.

"Maybe if I pray unto the God of Sun, he'll warm the mountain up," you sigh, "or the God of Hearth."

You look down at the empty basket that hasn't been filled for over an hour while your feet numbs from walking so long. No firewood, herbs, or food. You're starving and tired and it hasn't it gotten to noon yet. The slow passing of time makes you sigh at the growling of your stomach. You just want to eat and fall into a warm bed made of soft comfortable mattress and never have to know what the cold means.

But this is your life and although years passed, you still wonder how you're living on. Will you ever find another human to talk with for the rest of your life? The town almost a mile away has a few friendly smiles but it isn't the same as your village. After all, everyone knows everyone there, and you lived by taking care of one another.

You're just so, so tired.

.

.

.

"This..."

They stare at the wooden archway that leads into a village of homes that look as if no one has been here in ages. An abandoned ghost village. Yet they follow Hoseok in as he walks forward, eyes grazing over the broken windows and roofs, a few doors left open and off its hinges, and nothing but the sound of the howling wind and their footsteps are heard.

It's strange but no matter how empty this village is, they can still feel how beautiful life had once been to these mortals. It is a village that has been abandoned for years, no signs of life whatsoever.

"Why are we here, Hoseok?" Namjoon asks as he steps over some broken wood, his brows furrowing at the eerie echoing of the dead souls who had once lived here. It is never easy passing by a place that lets them know something horrible had occurred. They can easily hold the ground and watch the memories of what had happened with their powers but it feels too much to invade such intimate memories.

"I don't know," the God of Sun admits as he continues walking carefully with slow steps, his gaze soft and sad as he looks over everything. "The Sun told me there is still life here and we've visited many places already but we've never come here."

"It's abandoned."

"But you can still feel the life," he tells Taehyung. He knows they believe that perhaps he had only sensed life because a life did used to be here but Hoseok thinks otherwise. "There is a living soul here," he speaks, looking up at the sun for a moment, "she's seen it."

There is something so strange about this village, this tribe. Hoseok cannot understand it and he knows that he can easily retrace the past lives of this village but it feels wrong for some reason. He may be a God who has the ability to know and understand everything but this...this doesn't feel right at all. Not yet at least, and he cannot pinpoint what is it that draws him to this place, a feeling he's never felt with the places they've visited before.

When Jungkook looks around, the coldness lies in his heart, a feeling he has gotten used to since years prior ever since the first January 24th had hurt him. He takes slow steps with his hyungs behind him, carefully watching him and the village and wondering what thoughts are going on in his head. "It's strange but..." his eyes fall to the snow below him, footsteps hidden under the endless snow that continues falling and falling. He feels as if there are fresh footsteps just under the snow but even then he cannot erase the blanket to see it. "There is a life here," he says in a soft whisper.

"If our soulmate is really here," Jimin's eyes fall sad as it wanders all around at the snowy mountain of an abandoned village, his chest tightening with a heart that begins to ache, "they must have been oh so alone."

"Whatever happened here," the God of Music steps up to the center of the village that seems to hold the most memories of them all, sounds of music falling so distant to his ears, something he knows only lies in the past, "there are souls that have yet to be released."

A gasp leaves someone's lips and they are quick to turn around at the foreign voice, a sight that comes with a girl dressed in a dark blue cloak that they know must not be keeping her warm. Her eyes shake with fear, a basket that had fallen to the foot of her dress, hands pressed against her chest as she trembles at the sight of them. Her face pales, mouth drying, and they can hear the mortal's heart beating oh so rapidly.

"Forgive us," Seokjin announces as soon as he can before you can go into a panic. "We did not mean to intrude, is this your home?"

Your heart relaxes for a moment at his voice but you are still filled with fear. You haven't seen anyone in your village for such a long time, not since the raid, and you fear that they must be one of them. "I..I-If you wish to kill me, please do it quickly."

Oh.

Oh no.

Tears fall from your precious eyes and it hurts Jungkook as he shudders at the same time as you. Your eyes fall to him, a little intrigued, but still so, so fearful and he knows, he knows that you must have gone through so much with a heart that beats so rapidly at just the sight of men.

But he isn't a man, he is a God, a high and powerful God that can bend the Earth to its core if he simply wishes to do so. Those eyes of yours look so painful it hurts his own heart. The God of Hearth may have felt coldness before, just as the day before always being the worst of it all, but this...this feeling is a little more strange...foreign yet familiar at the same time.

"We are not here to kill you," he says. "We are Gods."

"...Gods.."

He isn't supposed to say so to hide their identity but it just feels right.

He steps up and the others follow a few feet behind. "I am the God of Hearth and we are looking for our last soulmate. We believe it to be a mortal."

You can tell they aren't normal humans. You can tell they aren't humans at all with the glowing aura all around them and how he calms your heart to a steadier beat at his voice alone. A celestial being. A God. Seven Gods right in front of you.

"No one else lives here," you tell the God of Hearth while his eyes never seem to leave yours as he continues walking forward. You don't step back for some reason, probably because you are too afraid to just leave and run away from a God. "I am the only one who lives here."

He hums. "I see that."

"There is a village about a mile away if you wish to check there."

"Have you not considered another option, dear one?" He asks you, snow crunching under his steps as he continues forward.

You shake your head slowly. "I highly doubt someone like me can even be worthy to be considered a soulmate to the Gods."

Jungkook steps up to you but he doesn't go any further to make sure you feel safe at a good distance. He holds his hands out for you and you watch, confusion displayed in your eyes before you look up at him again with a questioning gaze. "May I?" He simply asks.

You hesitate but this is a God asking you for something so you know you will offend him if you do not do as he asks. So you hold your hand out slowly with him so patient, just watching until you are ready to touch him. He hears the beat of your heart beating rapidly again but remains patient. When you finally allow him to hold your hand, the instant your skin meets him in a delicate touch, a vision falls into his mind.

He sees everything.

He sees the life of a little girl that had been born into a beautiful village and your sweet parents naming you Y/N. The village celebrates the birth of a child just as its always done, a tradition that will never fall away for as long as they are alive. He sees the cute pigtails on your head when you had enough hair for your mother to decorate it. He sees your loving parents that will do everything just to have their little daughter grow into someone precious and kind for the world to meet.

He sees you when you cried with your mother after your father's death, a little girl just twelve years of mortal age who should have never felt such responsibilities hanging off her shoulders at such a young age. But with time and your mother beginning to grow old, you have to step up to be the good daughter and tend to her, missing your own childhood despite how many times your mother tells you to go play while she sleeps. Sometimes she will pretend to have fallen into a dream just to see whether you have listened to her.

But you never leave your mother's side, only worrying for her in case you do leave and do not hear when she coughs and needs your help.

He sees you grow older and maturing to seventeen years old. You'll roll your eyes when your mother tells you to go out and find someone for yourself, telling her that you are too young to even think of marriage and laughing it all off though he can understand that deep inside, you do wish that in the future, not now, someone will come by to love and cherish you as you will love and cherish them.

The days are spent well with you occasionally leaving your home only for errands upon finding herbs, food, and fresh new firewood for your home. Jungkook sees a little boy named Mingyu who will try to sneak away behind your back, following you close behind when you'd walk down the mountain but you'll always catch him in the act. Some days you will allow him to accompany you, some days you will ask him to return home because it is too cold for him to be out.

Your village is lively and lovely, so different from how things look now. They will greet you when you come out and bid you goodbye when you return home. Everyone knows everyone, a tribe built up on a loving family. You rarely attend festivals and celebrations, however, always too busy tending to your sick mother.

But then he sees the one memory that you hate most of all.

He hears the loud barking of wild dogs in the distant, sees how you're begging your mother to hide in the basement and crying because she's telling you otherwise. She wants you to go in instead, knowing her life isn't worth fighting for anymore but that fighting this one last time will be her last mission in life. You cried in her arms when she held you, kissing you on the head, whispering soft words before pushing you into the basement and slamming the doors shut.

He sees your memories then, watching from the small window as your heart aches and numbs at the sight of the slaughtering. He sees you breaking a window, grabbing a shard and stabbing yourself for a pretend death when one of the men barges in with a dog beside him. He feels your fear, scared for your life, afraid of the dog. But you are left alone when the owner doesn't understand the barking of the wild dog.

He sees you as you're running around, screaming and shouting, calling for any survivors but no one, not even a soul, along with your mother and little Mingyu dead on the floors of your village. You're traumatized yet you still dig up holes after holes to bury your tribe in order for them to rest peacefully and not in vain. Your fingers go numb from the hard work and the freezing cold yet you never stop, going past days with no rest in between, tears endlessly falling and freezing under the cold snowy weather.

You haven't eaten a good meal in years, just seventeen years old having to carry the last remaining memories of your tribe, having to survive all on your own with no one by your side. Just seventeen years old having to become dependent on yourself. You learned to make your own clothes instead of just sewing to patch things up. Though it doesn't go well in the beginning, you learn the skills eventually as time passes. The water is always the coldest for you to wash and bathe in, your bed on a hard wood, no pillows, no warmth to keep you safe and secure.

Yet when Jungkook opens his eyes again, you have no hatred and vengeance in your heart, no sign of wanting revenge. The only thing he feels is your fear of your future and how you will continue surviving, questions swarming in your head as to why and how you are still alive after ten years of isolation. He has never met a human so selfless and kind with just the slight light of hope still left in her despite everything. You are afraid but you try not to show it and his heart hurts.

Jungkook turns to his soulmates behind him and they step up, surrounding you. They stand in a circle, fluttering their eyes closed and telling you silently that you must do so as well. Hands are placed upon your arms, soft, delicate and warm touches, and something strange and unfamiliar occurs.

You feel warmth surging through your body, a heat so warm you aren't sure whether this is real or not anymore. But it isn't just the warmth you are feeling, it's the feeling of walking on clouds, euphoria, head spinning with fairy lights and soft, soft ecstasy. It's so much more than the festivities of your tribe that celebrates many traditions, so much more than when you'd play around with little Mingyu who loves you to no end. It is sweet and delicate, fragile yet so strong and firm, not like the promise of your village that will one day be buried under the snow.

You see so many things, a beautiful celestial palace made of heaven lights. You see stars in one room, a whole room filled of the planets and galaxies of universes all around. You see a room filled with books upon books, a room of music, the soft blue tide of the vast ocean that stretches so wide and falls into the horizon, a sun that glows so bright in the sky, a home of warmth and hearth, and Spring. You see Spring for the first time in the life of a wisteria tree. It's petals flutters to the ground though the vines still holds firm and powerful, swaying gently and dancing to the soft whisper of the wind.

You see the life of the Gods before you. Meeting one another as if destiny has placed them in each other's paths. Soft smiles, soft hellos and goodnights, soft touches and soft kisses pressed against one another. A soft, soft love that whispers in their ears each passing day. When one is away they will feel empty, already missing one's presence the second they leave the palace grounds. Together they make each other stronger than any other Gods. Everyone around them looks up to them, bowing their ways, worshipping their presence for seven soulmates is much stronger than two souls.

Yet no matter how happy they are, there is still something missing. The wisteria may look divine but it is not in its full bloom, it is not as strong as it should be. The petals that falls off the vines hangs in vain and sadness, fluttering to the floor, still wishing and needing one last puzzle that is missing.

A missing soulmate.

You feel the aching in the God of Hearth's heart, how he will shiver on some occasions, the way he hurts the most on January 24th. And you think you understand what the means. January 24th is not a day that is happy for you, a day that is filled with grief and pain, a day that is the coldest out of any other day. You think you understand because the flame of the Hearth is a light that gives warmth to the mortals. But you have not been the warmest in the years that passed by since the raid. You think...perhaps...you understand.

"Do you understand?" You open your eyes to find them staring into your soul, and they can feel that you understand but have some doubts. "You are the one, my sweet precious mortal," the God of Knowledge holds your face in his hand and you find yourself consciously leaning into the touch. The warmth is nice. You love it so much you wish to cry. "You are our last soulmate."

"Will you accept us?" The God of Ocean asks. "Will you come home to us? Allow us to give you an endless warmth that shall never disappear?"

"To live an immortal life? Become an immortal yourself?"

"To never have to know what pain and hurting feels like ever again. To never feel afraid anymore."

"Will you let us protect you from now on? Give you a home, a safe, warm home."

"And let you meet the one thing you have always been waiting for. To let you see Spring."

Spring.

They can feel the way your heart skips a beat at the sound and Jimin smiles softly. You have always wished to see what Spring looks like, when the Winter will melt away and the birds will chirp and flowers will grow, blooming to their fullest and giving off such sweet scents. You want to smell the flowers, to feel the rain kissing your body, to see a rainbow, to go barefoot and feel the grass poking through the gaps of your toes. You want to lie on the ground, run around freely without heavy coats on you, to feel a breeze that will not make you shiver and have your nose growing red.

You want to be kissed by Spring, greeted with a beautiful welcome and never have to leave its warmth. You want it, you want to meet Spring.

But they can also feel the hesitation in your heart. You do not wish to leave your village like this, you're the only one left to hold its memories after all, the only one left of your tribe. They feel hatred and anger for the ones that have made you suffer for so long, to live alone in isolation and miss the feeling of someone touching you for a whole ten years. They want to hunt those humans down, their selfishness and greed for blood making them boil to serve them justice.

"I.." you speak up timidly, a little fearful that it won't be right to do so but Yoongi places a gentle hand on your head, soothing it gently.

"It's alright, little one. You will never offend us if you ever wish to speak."

You pick up your courage to look at the village before you. "I don't want to leave my home like this."

"There are souls of your tribe that is still roaming around, little one," Namjoon informs you and your head snaps to him, eyes brimming with tears and making him sad to see them.

"You can see them?" You ask, breath shaky.

He shakes his head lightly. "We can feel them. They are here, sweet one." He takes your hand into his hold as he gently brings you to the middle of the village before turning you so that you can face the grounds. "Their souls have been left broken and shattered but they've never given up hope because of you."

"Because of me?"

The God of Knowledge hums. "You've survived for so long trying to keep this place alive." He's seen the way you pretend everyone was still here, watching their ghosts through your memories and speaking to them as if they were still alive.

"They haven't been able to rest in peace," you realize with sad eyes.

"Don't worry," Seokjin steps up as he places a hand on your shoulder and watches the memories with you, "I can send them off now for you."

"You can do that?"

He nods, humming. "All they've ever wanted was for you to live as if you are living again. And now they see hope." Through him. "They can go on now because their little Y/N can find something worth living for."

A tear falls from your eye and Namjoon squeezes your hand in a gentle manner.

"It will be alright," he tells you softly. "You can bid your goodbyes now."

All your ten years of living alone you thought that your tribe would wish for you to keep the tradition in your memories, to never let it die. You never knew that what they truly wanted, what they all wanted, was for you to live again. So a few more tears escape your eyes as your chest tightens and a hand reaches out into the open. You pretend that someone has taken your hand, your mother, with little Mingyu just beside you and the rest of the village behind them. You pretend that they are smiling down at you, softly bidding their goodbyes.

You can hear your mother whispering for you to be happy now and you can hear little Mingyu telling you to smile again.

You nod at them, closing your hand into a small fist. "Goodbye," you say and when Seokjin, the God that holds the galaxies, close his eyes, you can feel the souls leaving one by one, drifting off to the skies with little waves made at you.

They can finally rest in peace at last.

"Come here," the Sun God holds a hand out for you a few seconds later and you go to him with no hesitation, letting him take your hand. "You are hurt, my dear. Can you close your eyes?" You do as he asks and feel soft lips pressing against your forehead seconds later.

Hoseok releases his magic to transfer into your body, letting you feel a warmth rising, a warmth that makes you feel so light on your feet. It runs through your veins, healing the numbness of your fingers and toes, collecting the water from where your body stays cold, lifting the freezing feeling from you and replacing it with the warmth of the sun. Wherever there had been scars on your body, he heals as well. The scar that rests near your stomach is lifted as if it had never been there before and when he leans away, you still feel so light on your feet.

"Thank you," you say with a slight blush forming on your soft cheeks when you lift your eyes to find him so close.

Hoseok smiles, understanding through the touch that you find him attractive, an information he finds convenient because you yourself is so beautiful he can hardly believe his eyes. You have the beauty not meant for a human, a beauty that glows so delicately he doesn't believe anyone can be worthy to look upon you. "Of course, dear one," he tells you and presses another kiss to your forehead, this one being actually meant to be a kiss.

Your cheeks warm a little more at the gesture and he chuckles, loving your reactions to every little thing.

"Are you ready, my love?"

My love.

You red at the soft name from the God of Music and think that perhaps you will have to get used to such things. So you nod at him and Yoongi takes your hand. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you do so with no question.

Something shifts under your feet and you can feel your surrounding changing despite not actually seeing. When Yoongi tells you you can open your eyes again, you are met with a bright world just in front of you. The memories that belongs to them rushes back to you and you realize this is their home, their palace. It is so divine you can hardly believe your eyes. The castle stands so tall with a magnificent garden that surrounds its grounds.

You breathe in the wonderful scent and almost sway on your feet.

Spring. It smells like Spring.

You rush forward to walk up the steps of the castle and look back as you skip in, sounds of giggles escaping your lips and making their own hearts so warm. The sight of you so happy at the little things alone makes them smile as they walk in, following the curious little mortal who wishes to see everything. But they know that you will have time to see everything later. Right now you're tired and need to rest.

"My love." You turn at the call of Taehyung's voice and skip back to him, ears attentive. The God of Ocean gaze fondly at you as he lifts his hand to tuck your hair behind your ears. "You are tired, my sweet angel." He hears your thoughts, the embarrassment of how you must look with your damp clothes and messy hair from the strong wind of the Winter mountain and pets you on your head. "You can wash first," he says and your eyes widen a little with a little moment of confusion before he feels you understand that you are soulmates now and they can read your thoughts through just simple touches.

"Okay," you say with your sweet voice. He doesn't think he will ever get over such music to his ears.

"Come now." He takes your hand and leads you down the grand hall of the castle where you will be spending the rest of your life in.

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.

The water is so different from the freezing cold back on the mountain. It is so warm and gentle you almost feel like falling asleep in the bath. It's grand, a bathtub so large and you think that perhaps the Gods share their bath times together. You blush at the thought of possibly needing to do that as well, not yet ready at the moment but knowing that in the near future you will one day bathe with them.

You giggle to yourself thinking of it and submerge your head into the water as if you should not have thought of such things. But you know that it's fine, you are soulmates after all, connecting in ways simple relationships of the mortals will never come to feel and understand. It's a nice thing you know you will love to get used to as you swoop up a few rose petals in your hand, breathing in the rose scent bath and laying your head back.

What a lovely life you know you will never get tired of.

Just hours prior you were freezing cold as you wandered the grounds of the mountain, trying to collect herbs and firewood, trying to find food. Nothing comes easy living in the mountain especially while living in isolation so some days you would have to go to sleep shivering so hard, some days you would have to suffer through fevers and other health risks, and some days you would have to starve for a few days until you can find food to eat.

Looking back on the memory not far back yet, you feel a rushing fear crawling down your spine as you think that perhaps this can all be a dream, just a wishful thinking, a daydream, and you'd wake up to the coldness of your lonely home all over again.

You've had dreams before, of living with warmth, living in Spring, and woke up only to fall sad all over again as you realize it had all been a dream. But right now this feels too real to be a dream yet at the same time, too true to be true, and you hate how you're so frightened of having to go back to your old life. Will that ever go away as time passes? Or will you wake up thinking time did passed when this had indeed all been a dream?

You let out a soft sigh as you think about the possibilities, brows furrowing with a sadness that hurts your heart.

But then you hear soft music playing, the sound of a beautiful harp as if the God of Music had just heard your thoughts and wishes to ease you from it. Your heart flutters as you look around, face brightening all over again wondering if Yoongi is thinking of you right now. He must be, right? A few butterflies untangle themselves in your tummy and begin to flutter freely.

Oh how you hope this is all a reality and not just a wishful dream.

The harp continues on and on, softly wanting to lure you to sleep but you know that you must get out first and not fall asleep in the bath.

When you open the doors to the bedroom timidly, head poking out shyly because you know they're in there, they smile at the sight of you and silently welcome you in. You have on a sheepish smile as you walk in dressed in a white bathrobe with wet hair and looking so pretty and clean.

Your skin glows with a fresh flowery scent and they almost fall breathless at the sight of your beauty right before them. They knew you were beautiful the moment they laid eyes on you but now that you're fresh and out of the bath, they can't believe you can look even more beautiful.

Jimin walks up to you and runs a towel along your head to dry your wet hair, fearing that you may catch a cold if it isn't dried right away. Sure you may be used to the cold but they still feel overprotective of you and wish for nothing to happen to you. You're their precious girl now, after all, and they will never let anything bad happen to you again. You've suffered for far too long living all alone and just trying to survive through the cruel reality of life.

When he sees the soft pink on your cheeks, Jimin smiles as he realizes you must have read his thoughts. "You are so beautiful, my love." Your heart flutters under his gaze and words and Jimin can't believe they have gotten such a precious soul to be their last piece of the puzzle. "We have to get you your own clothes but for now will you fit mine?"

You nod at his offer and suddenly feel a flutter of the wind before you lightly gasp down at yourself, a sight of the God of Spring's royal robe wrapped around your body to replace the white bathrobe. "Wow," you say in awe and they chuckle at how easily you are astonished. It's a little big on you, the robe falling to the floor and hiding your feet, sleeves a little too long and sliding off just slightly from your shoulders. But it is a sight that makes Jimin excited seeing you in his clothes.

He takes your chin in his hand for you to look up at him and presses a kiss right on the tip of your nose. "You must be hungry." Right on time your stomach growls and you lick your lips, causing him to grin.

They feed you a meal that is laid out on a tray, not allowing you to use your hands for one second and insisting to do the job instead. They spoil you with so many things that in the end, you become so full and have to push their hands away before they can feed you some more. But you let Namjoon hand you a fruit before you fall back into Jungkook's chest.

"Sleepy?" He senses your energy, watching as your eyes flutter drowsily and runs a finger down to the tip of your nose. "Sleep, my dear, you've had such a long day."

You take ahold of his hand, small fist wrapping around his forefinger after grabbing the courage to snuggle in close and the God of Hearth chuckles as they all coo. "But what if I wake up back on the mountain?" You worry and he understands that you have been thinking of it back in your alone moment in the bathtub. Jungkook knows then that it is not a good idea to leave you alone for long, not when you'll begin to question whether it is right for you to truly be happy because he knows that you deserve all of this.

A happy life, to be loved and cherished.

"I'm scared," you whimper though your eyes are drowsy and you let out a yawn soon after.

"Trust me, my love, we will be right here when you wake up."

"Promise?" You ask in a small voice.

He hums. "I promise."

"Kiss me goodnight?" They chuckle and does as you ask, placing soft kisses upon your face and head, missing the one spot that leaves your lips. But you're fine with it. Not yet, it will come with time when you are a little more comfortable.

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You hear the morning birds chirping for the first time and that is what excites you awake.

It comes out so soft to your ears at first, you lying on your side with someone holding you from behind and Yoongi right in front of you. The bed is large enough to hold many people and you blush under their closeness before you fall distracted by the song of the birds. A light gasp leaves you when you continue to hear it, its chirping falling so gentle and sweet so you sit up and take Seokjin's arm off you to crawl off the bed.

Your light footsteps leaves you past the curtains and onto the large balcony that greets you with the kisses of the gentle breeze. You grin brilliantly as you lean onto the railing, back arching forward as you breath in the sweet smell of the warm air. Before you lies the crystal ocean that goes on and on past the horizon where the sun lies up above. It shimmers under the light of the morning sun, sparkling like gemstones and you realize that no, you haven't woken up to a freezing cold and damp blanket with the howling wind of the mountain greeting you awake.

You have no need to prepare yourself to head out into the cold, trying to find herbs and firewood, trying to find food. You have no need to worry about that anymore because this is your life now. Greeted by the lovely breeze, greeted by Spring, greeted by love.

Someone comes up behind you and you jump for a moment before feeling his arms wrap around you from behind, his familiar hands welcoming you in with a head nuzzling into your neck before simply resting right on your shoulder. "Good morning, sweet love," he greets in a low husky voice to tell you that he had just woken up. A smile curls along his lips as he reads your thoughts of how much you love his deep voice.

"You kept your promise."

"Of course," Jungkook chuckles. "This feels nice, does it not?"

You hum, leaning back closer to his hold. "It's so different. So warm."

"I feel better too," he admits and reminds you through his thoughts of how the God of Hearth also had to suffer a bit because his heart connects to you in a way more special compared to the rest. The Hearth's flame is meant for the mortals after all.

"I'm sorry," you tell him and Jungkook frowns.

"No, my love, you have no need to apologize. This was never your doing."

"But it must have been difficult hurting and not knowing why."

He turns you in his hold so that you can face him, face leaning in close with a pout. "You suffered so much more than I," he reminds you as he brushes your hair away to the side. "I knew you were suffering, we all did, but it took so long to finally find you."

"That isn't your fault. I lived in isolation in a village that should have never been found."

"I only wish we had found you sooner."

You shake your head lightly. "Nothing can be done to turn back time now."

Oh how Jungkook loves you already. You have such a kind soul, a selfless soul, with no darkness in sight despite all that had happened to you. He wonders how you were able to do this, held onto hope for so long, to spend ten years all alone in a place that kept you so cold and freezing, lacking the ability to touch another being, visited by no one but the knocking of the restless wind outside your home.

He wants to make it all better, to help you heal and grow, and to only hold onto precious happy memories from now on.

When you look back at him with a sweet gaze, he knows that you can understand him despite no words said. You can read him too and Jungkook smiles as he rest his forehead against yours, just holding you there as the two of you revel in the soft breeze that passes by. You can feel cold no longer, nothing but a soft warmth that the God of Hearth holds with him.

When the afternoon comes, you're wandering around the castle, watching through the memories of your Gods to remember what room lies where. You've ran through the magnificent garden barefoot, smelling the scent of all the flowers that were grown, touching the petals and feeling how soft it is under your touch. The grass tickles your feet, the stone paths rubbing you gently. A fountain sits at the center of the garden, hedges displayed all around sort of like a maze.

Everything is green and colorful with the robe of Jimin's dragging behind you as you become the curious little fella who runs around everywhere because everything fascinates you. You travel down to the ocean next, feeling the white sand under your bare feet and giggling as you touch and run from the water that comes and goes. Seashells are found all around the beach, little crabs running around and crawling into your palm when you let it. It does you no harm though you have heard stories of all crabs being able to pinch anyone that touches them.

Perhaps the humans really do not know much. But then again, maybe you should not have trust a tribe that only knows what Winter looks like. You laugh to yourself thinking about it and then become a little more curious as you recall the library you saw in your memories. It must belong to Namjoon, the God of Knowledge.

You stand up from the beach, letting the little crabs crawl back down onto the sand and wave them goodbye before you leave for the castle again. You run through a path with trees at two sides, reminding you that you should check out the wisteria as well after the library. You retrace your steps as you look into your memories to understand where the books are, skipping around the halls of the castle care freely with shoes now on, staring at the tall ceiling up above, the beautiful crystal glass windows in designs of each God or of plants and simple objects.

When you open the familiar looking doors from your memories, you gasp at the sight of the thousands of books placed on shelves upon shelves, leading into the room and looking like an endless hall. It looks so much more enchanting than what you had seen in the memories just as the garden and the ocean. You cannot believe there are so many books, almost every one of them you know you have never read.

"Well hello there my dear." You jump at the voice before understanding that it belongs to the God of Knowledge as he emerges from a shelf that had hidden him. He holds an open book in hand with a sweet smile resting on his face, charming dimples displayed upon his cheeks and making your heart skip a beat.

"Namjoon," you sigh as you skip up to him. "The gardens are so beautiful! Jimin created it, didn't he? And the ocean, it's so vast and magnificent I cannot believe such beauty exists in this universe. I know there are so many other places to visit but I don't know how I can look at them all before growing exhausted by running all over."

He laughs as he holds your face, fingers tracing down your temple and down your jaw. "My love you have all the time in the world to explore. You must remember to not exhaust yourself so fast."

"There's just so much to see," you beam before letting out a gasp as if you had just recalled something. "I want to read!"

He chuckles fondly. "Do you now?"

"Mn!"

"Come here." He takes your hand, not needing to voice out what books you would like to read because he can already read your mind. So he leads you down to the center of the library where lays a circle of shelves. He walks you to the middle, holding onto your waist steady as you bite against your lower lip with anticipation, already understanding even before the floor lifts into the air upwards because you have seen it in the memories.

The lift brings the two of you up to where a flooring hovers in the air, supported by fluffy white clouds that falls past your hands but will support your weight when you step onto it. You giggle as you feel the clouds on your feet before letting Namjoon sit you upon a comfortable chair shaped in a ball and made of clouds. He hands you a book taken out of thin air.

"If there is anything else you need, just call me."

You nod eagerly before leaning your back into the chair and open up to the first page of the book.

You're addicted in no time and spend hours upon hours forgetting about everything else as you dive into the world of imaginations created on pieces of paper.

"My love?" You hear him when you are on your fifth book, humming softly to indicate that you hear him but your eyes remain on the little words displayed on the pages of the book. Namjoon sighs. "Come now." You pout. "It is time for dinner, sweetheart."

"Just...one more chapter."

He knows what that sounds like and shakes his head as he walks up to you, taking the book away and having you whining after it. The God of Knowledge chuckles at how adorable you are and mark the page you are on before closing it shut. You pout again but he presses a kiss to your head and makes you blush. Namjoon loves your little reactions to simple romantic gestures. "Come now," he repeats and holds his hand out.

This time you do not protest.

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.

.

"Go on, try them on."

You collect the dresses in hand and they watch as you head for the bathroom only to pause in your steps and turn back with a sheepish smile.

"What is it?" Hoseok asks.

"Will you dress me instead?" Heat blooms upon your face when their eyes widen and you realize what they think you mean by that and is quick to stutter through. "N-not like that! I meant will you..uh...u-use your powers? You know, like how Jimin dressed me in his robe?"

You are so adorable when you're flustered and a blushing mess because you aren't used to relationships like this. The only thing you've been exposed to in this life is a beautiful love of a village and the parents that had raised you. You've known nothing about loving a man, was never able to be given that privilege because your tribe had gone before anything could truly happen, before you could even think about trying to find another who could protect and love you. So of course you are shy when you're around them but they know more than anyone that this is alright, you're okay, and they will love and cherish you in place of the loneliness that had bloomed over the past ten years.

So when Taehyung stands before you and you shy away, he does not mind it, knowing one day you will come around to it. He caresses your face for a moment, reading your thoughts filled of embarrassment and letting you read him to let you know that this is fine, this is alright and he does not mind anything. You are soulmates after all, meant for one another and written under the stars. You have no need to shy away under their gaze, free to speak your mind, and that even if you did mean what they had initially thought, they would dress you still.

But he tells you that he understands you are not ready just yet and lets you know that this is fine, this is alright. You can take as much time as you need, as much as you want, and none of them will ever mind.

His feelings allow you to calm, blush slowly falling away and Taehyung smiles at the sight of your shoulders falling back down to your sides. He snaps his fingers and you feel the flutter of the familiar wind just as the first time it was done to you and they watch as the dress falls onto your skin. It hugs you perfectly, soft golden shimmers falling all the way to the floor with beautiful yellow petals decorated almost all around.

You are a sight they have been blessed with, a beauty too perfect for the eyes to even dare see. They find themselves so lucky to have someone like you as their last soulmate, a lovely pretty lady with such a gentle heart too pure for the world.

"You are truly beautiful, my love." You blush again at Seokjin's words who holds a fond gaze upon your face.

"Mmn," Hoseok hums, "but as much as we'd like to stay and just stare at you all day, we must leave."

Your brows crease slightly as you look up at him. "You're all leaving?"

"Hoseok and I," Seokjin tells you as he strokes your cheek to ease your little worries, "the rest will be here."

"Where are you going?" You ask.

He looks at the Gods for a brief moment before gifting you a small smile. "To give justice to the ones that were the cause to your pain and suffering."

"Oh." You shiver and he can feel your fear and the slight aching that reaches your heart.

"Do not worry, my love," Hoseok says as he walks up to your other side to take your hand and kiss the back of it. "We will take care of everything from now on, alright?"

They let you know that they do not love violence, that they would much rather deal with things with words but when time comes, some things are meant to play out with violence if needed. They tell you that they will deal with this logically and not of blind anger and you nod at their unspoken words, head leaning against Seokjin's touch and squeezing Hoseok's hand lightly to let them know that you trust them to make the right decisions.

"We will be right back," the eldest tells you and you nod.

When they disappear to transport themselves away, you're still slightly conflicted as the memories begin returning. "Come here," Yoongi encourages with soft words as he holds out a hand to you. "When was the last time you've heard music?"

Besides that time in the bathtub it has truly been far too long. So you let him whisk you away from the bedroom and into a room that you had once seen in the memories.

Yoongi's grand music room is divine. Instruments are displayed in perfect order, harps and pianos and the violins and all sorts of musical instruments, even some you have never seen before in your life. You are from the mountain after all, and your tribe hasn't really come to understand and seen much but you've seen a few common instruments in the picture books the elderlies would tell stories upon.

He takes you up a flight of stairs made of glass, spiraling up towards what looks like the ceiling but you know that he is bringing you to some place a little more special as you have seen in the memories. The stairs lead up to the roof where you walk onto the platform of the tower made of pillars that circles the floor and lets you see down the grounds of the palace and past it, a sight much more than the balcony in the bedroom.

You are so high up you feel like you might fall but with Yoongi behind you as you hold onto a pillar and look down, you know that you are safe. You can see almost everything. The ocean, the outline of the gorgeous garden surrounding the castle, how enormous the castle is, and an enchanting forest that surrounds the palace grounds.

"The more I visit these memories in real life, the more speechless I become because everything is just so...breathless!"

The God of Music chuckles as you spin around to feel the wind rush around you, flaring your dress out and making you look like a fairy. He sits on a little stool, fingers beginning to pluck the strings on the harp and you fall silent as you sit down to watch Yoongi, eyes fluttering close after a moment just to hear the sound of the beautiful music playing as the wind carries it from room to room and over the ocean and forest that surrounds the palace grounds.

It's magical, every note perfectly played and echoing out into the world for all to hear.

This is the music of the Gods.

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.

Yoongi has to go somewhere after a while so you are left alone to yourself, happily skipping down the halls again in trying to see where your feet will lead you first; the wisteria or the galaxy room that belongs to Seokjin. Both rooms you truly want to see and knowing you have plenty of time yet too excited to wait.

You walk into a grand open space before blindly taking a right without looking back into the memories to know where you are going. Sometimes being lost is the best way to discover new things, your curiosity only getting the best of you as you giggle about in the halls. But then you feel a presence and stop walking, brows furrowed slightly with confusion and curiosity, wondering whether it is one of the Gods.

Until you hear a bark and fear crawls down your back as you turn and see a sight that fears you most of all.

When they hear the scream, they are quick to transport themselves to you in an instant with Jimin wrapping his arms around you and holding your face against his chest. You shake in fear, crying into his protective hold as Jungkook steps up to the guard dog whom they have simply forgotten was still around. You're afraid of dogs after those wild ones had been the ones to track your village down and almost kill you along the rest of your tribe. So he signals for it to leave as quickly as possible, the dog a little confused he had scared someone but disappearing at his master's order.

He turns back to you when it's finally gone for you to finally relax but as they watch you shaking in Jimin's arms and refusing to look up, their heart breaks at the sight. Jimin can understand your thoughts, mind retracing back to the memories on the day it all crashed down for you. He sees you reminded of when you were down in your basement, bleeding out, faking your death as the dog walked over and sniffed at you.

You can hear the continuous barking as it tries to tell its owner that you are still alive, that you're just faking your death. It growls your way when its owner shouts at it to follow him and you can still feel its eyes on you even as it leaves.

Jimin runs his hand up and down along your back, whispering soft soothing words to help you calm, to remind you that you are alright now, that they are here and nothing can harm you ever again. You know, he understands that you know, but you're still afraid of everything being just a dream and that one day you will indeed wake up from this beautiful world. Jimin holds you tightly in his arms, brows furrowed, meeting the gaze of Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon who shares the same conflicted thoughts and anger for what you had to go through.

Their precious girl, their precious soulmate who suffered so much because of human greed and the inability to feel as they do not hesitate one tiny bit upon killing a whole tribe made of small warriors, children, women, and elderlies who never hoped to ever fight in wars.

They can only pray for Seokjin and Hoseok to hear their anger and do well upon punishing the people that had done this to you.

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.

You asked them to leave you be so that you can remain alone for a while. Of course the Gods weren't going to allow you without complaint, trying to convince you otherwise as they worry for you and although you felt touched, you shook your head then, too tired to argue and just wanting to be left alone because you are so used to dealing with everything by yourself. So you walk around the castle again, footsteps now heavy and slow, just letting your feet carry you to wherever. It's isolating and lonely, a feeling you hadn't felt for a few days, returning with melancholy and fear.

You don't know what to do, how this will all work out, why you have even become a soulmate of seven powerful and loving Gods too sweet for their own goods. You don't deserve this, you deserve to remain where you were, back on the mountain, trying to survive on your own.

You can still feel the numbness of your fingers, your aching feet as it walks and walks, trying to find just simple things in order to live on each day. You can still hear the howling of the wind as it passes by and by, the snowflakes that falls endlessly from the ongoing Winter skies, the ghost of a village that had once been so lovely and full of life. Everything was so wrong then, to grow old as a seventeen years old mortal, crying and crying yet having the need to pick yourself up because you knew crying wasn't going to bring anyone back. You had to stand up, to pick up the shovels, to dig and bury, to wipe your tears away and suck it all up because of the humans that knew no difference between love and hate.

Still you never felt any vengeance towards them, just fear and pain because they could not understand to care or have a heart. The world is a scary placed filled with scary people and frightening things that will visit your sleep and taint your lovely dreams.

You know this is wrong, to run away and try to face your problems alone when you have soulmates, Gods who just wants to make it all better. You know it is wrong to take that away from them, to shut them out, and to put up a wall. But you are afraid to feel happy, knowing it will never last forever and that one day, even if this is all true, perhaps this will all end. You are afraid to give into the love, to let them take care of you. What if they find something within you that they do not particularly like? Would you have to change? Do you have to be perfect? They are Gods after all and you are just a lone human walking in the heavens.

Why are you here? Why have you tried to be happy when you know you cannot?

Something falls onto the foot of your dress, a flutter, a fluttering petal, then another. You look up, eyes trailing the path of the little petals that the wind has carried to your feet and there, right in front of you lies the one beautiful thing that had struck hard in the memories the Gods had given onto you.

A wisteria.

You remember how the Gods will visit this room of the celestial tree lying in the center of the palace, a circle opening roof lying on the top to give it its sunlight and rain when it needs it. Its leaves and petals fall around the foot of it, the wind carrying it to flutter a few feet away. When the Gods come, they will reach out and give it the power it needs in order to grow strong, the God of Spring being the most frequent guest since he had been the one to grow it in the first place. But you know how their love have made the tree stronger with just one simple touch. As each new soulmate is found, they will visit the tree and touch its vine, releasing their energy to the tree and helping it to grow to its max.

And you are the last one, the remaining soulmate that will make it grow into its full blossom.

A hand reaches out hesitantly, head tilted slightly to the side with wonder, and you see the way a vine begins to reach out as well. But just as you're about to let it wrap around your hand, you take your hand back to fall behind you.

Afraid.

"Why do you falter?" You hear the God of Spring from behind you, knowing it is him without needing to look back. His footsteps walk towards you but stops halfway. "I know you asked us to leave you alone but I cannot, my love. I know you are still frightened."

You do not say a thing for a while, just staring at the tree before you with thoughts running all over. He wishes he can read your mind but he will need to touch you for that and right now he isn't sure if he is welcomed to do so or not. So Jimin remains where he is, giving you a safe distance in case you absolutely do not want him around. Perhaps he should leave, let you be, but Jimin worries that the horrible thing your mind may lead you to think will only hurt you more and he does not wish to see you in any more pain.

"It won't be easy you know..." you say in a soft, soft whisper.

His brows furrow, wondering what you mean.

"...trying to love me."

Jimin cannot take it no longer so he steps up in front of you to look you straight in the eyes, his gaze serious and filled with pain. Not because you said he couldn't love you but because you think it will take so much effort just to love you. You, the sweetest most kindest and selfless soul he has ever met, someone who doesn't wish death upon the ones that made you suffer for so long, someone who only wishes the enemy could learn to love rather than getting vengeance on them. You who was only a teen when her tribe was murdered. You who was forced to grow old and pick yourself up when you were hurting the most, seeing the dead bodies of your family, carrying their bodies, burying them into the grounds of the mountain.

Jimin hurts because you do not see worth within yourself, he hurts because you cannot see yourself living a happily ever after, you who is too afraid to love and be happy because you are afraid it will backfire and your story will end with pain and suffering.

He takes your hand, pressing it against his chest to let you understand all the emotions he is feeling. He lets you understand his pain, his frustration and anger towards the ones that have made you see yourself in such darkness, and lets you understand that no, no it will not be difficult. It will be the easiest thing in the world.

"Do you know why?" He asks you. "Do you know why it will be the easiest thing in the world?" He feels that you don't so Jimin continues with tears the prick in his eyes and falls before he can blink them away. Your heart hurts at the sight and begin to cry yourself but Jimin is going to tell you. "Because I have already fallen in love from the moment I laid my eyes on you."

You fall perplexed. "But...you didn't know I was your soulmate then."

"I knew," he tells you. "I knew from the first moment you looked at me with fear. I knew since I stepped foot into your village. I loved you then, Y/N, whether you believe me or not. I loved you and I love you still. It may have only been just a few days but I love you so much."

"I do too."

The two of you look at the voice of the God of Hearth who had lean against the entrance way, picking himself up when you meet his gaze and begins to walk your way.

"I loved you before we even met," he says, "loved you from the first moment I was hurting because of the pain that connects us. My flame comes from Earth and the only way it can truly grow strong is if you are safe and warm. I have never felt stronger in my entire lifetime, I have never felt such flame burning in my heart. But even before I knew who you were, I knew I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe, give you a home, give you my hearth."

"There is no ocean vast enough, no ocean deep enough to compare our love." The God of Ocean walks in from another entrance, voice deep and serious.

"There are so many chapters left for us to unfold," says the God of Knowledge. "There are so many more stories to come, for us to explore, for us to learn and understand one another."

"But as we've said before," Seokjin stands beside Jimin, "we have all the time in the universe to get to know one another."

"You do not have to love us now, you do not have to feel the same," Hoseok tells you.

"But just know," Yoongi says, "just know that we love you."

They see the tears in your eyes, how it descends, the way it escapes and trails down your precious cheeks, hanging along your chin before eventually dripping down. You sob as they hold onto you, soft touches to let you know that they are not lying, that everything is true and that they will make it better, they will make it right. If you'd let them, they will stop at nothing just to see that precious smile on your face, to hear your beautiful giggles echoing into the halls and rooms. They will love you like how a man can never love, like a God's immortal love that has no ending even as they may one day lose their immortality.

For years in your life you always wondered whether you will be blessed with another by your side or not, and wondering how it will ever happen. Even before the raid came in, a daughter who only cared for her mother through her times of sickness, never once spending time to look at another in the light of attraction and love. You've only seen your tribe as a family. It was never easy growing up alone after the raid, never easy to know that there was a possibility of you dying alone and the world will have no idea.

Yet they come in like a soft blanket, the exact thing you needed, giving you warmth and closure, providing you food and endless love. You are unsure of how you can ever be enough but they tell you that you need not to trust your own thoughts but to trust theirs instead.

Because they love you and find no faults in your flaws, no fault in you whatsoever. To them you are more than enough, more than the love of the world itself and they will never stop to help you realize that.

So when Jimin holds your face to gently brush away your remaining tears, you thank them through your thoughts. He leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, whispering, "You have no need to thank us from now on. No Gods nor universe can ever stop us for wanting to love you."

Your cheeks blossom with roses at his soft words and you tell him, "I think I'm ready."

He understands.

So the Gods step back to allow you room for the wisteria who stands tall with patience no matter its slow withering. You reach out a little more confidently than before, watching as it joins you in the middle and feel it wrapping its vine around your hand and wrist. You close your eyes, letting it take your love and energy that flows from your body to heal the wisteria. It holds onto you firmly but does not ever hurt you in any way. It is gentle in his taking and you know that the wisteria will give back for the love you are providing it.

Giving you immortality for you to spend all of your life with the Gods who will never fall out of love with you.

When the wisteria unwraps itself from your hand, you know that it is done and let your hand fall back to your side. The eight of you watch as the tree glows of a thousand starlight, blooming to its max capacity with its shade of colors growing stronger than the years before it. Your eyes sparkle as you stare at the celestial tree who gives back light to not just you but your Gods who stands beside you.

You feel full and anew and smile gently when the glowing begins to fade while it remains tall with its blossoming vines.

When your head spins with dizzy and drowsiness, the Gods are right there to hold you. "You must rest now, my dear," the God of Spring whispers to you as your eyes begin to haze and fall closed.

"I'm tired," you say as darkness begins to consume your world. But they are right here beside you to let you know that you are alright. You know you are, this happens when one gives their love and energy to the wisteria, you've seen it in the memories.

"Mmn," you hear the voice again. So soft, so soothing, and your body falls to rest as you are held up into someone's arms. "Rest now, my sweet love."

.

.

.

The birds chirp again, soft and melodic, sweetly singing you a morning lullaby. When you open your eyes and yawn awake, the God of Stars lays right before you while a hand from someone else holds onto you from behind. You look back to find the God of Knowledge who grips you a little more, nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck and letting you give out a soft giggle.

Seokjin brushes your hair from your face as he watches you with a gentle gaze. "Good morning, dear one."

"Good morning," you sigh.

"Have you slept well?" You nod and he can feel your energy through the touch, relieved at the answer before kissing you on your forehead. "The others have yet to wake, it is quite early after all, and they've had a long night." You tilt your head to the side and he answers you before you can ask the question aloud. "No need to worry, sweetheart, we just had to deal with a few things in order to make this place more safer for you."

"Oh." You frown and he can already feel the guilt rushing in. "I'm so sorry."

"No, my dear," Seokjin is quick to say, "you have no need to apologize."

"I-I didn't mean for the dog to go or anyone else, I-I just-"

"You were frightened, my love, and no fear of yours will ever be taken lightly," he tells you as he take ahold of your hand. "You have no need to be sorry for something that is not yours to control. Those wild ones were at fault, it is not in your hands to choose what will frighten you and what will not."

Going through drastic measures just to make sure you are safe and protected, just to make sure you are comfortable at a place that will be your home for the rest of your life. You are touched by their actions, touched by everything they do for you and your eyes begin to tear up. Seokjin smiles softly at the sight of you, understanding what you mean through the touches and goes on to brush away your small tears.

"Come on," he whispers as he takes Taehyung's hand off him to sit up, "I know you have been curious to see my stars."

Oh.

Right, you are.

You grow excited as you gently untangle Namjoon from you and take Seokjin's hand. The two of you giggle as both Taehyung and Namjoon whine for someone to hold in their arms, finding the both of you gone so they reach for one another instead. "Let's go," the God of Stars whispers in your ears and the two of you run off hand in hand as if you are on a little adventure.

You remember the familiar walls into some place you had never actually gone before. The castle is huge after all, but it all comes to you as you look back on the memories that they had shared with you, watching and growing excited as Seokjin himself cannot wait to show you his own room that is filled with stars. You anticipate this moment most of all, knowing exactly where you will go yet also understanding that seeing it in person will be so much more incredible just as you have seen all the other rooms.

He comes to a grand set of golden doors that is designed with wreaths and vines with a star right in the center. "Ready?" He asks and you nod eagerly.

When Seokjin holds a palm between the two doors, it isn't long before it glows brightly and magically opens all on its own. You are met by a portal just on the other side and squeeze the Star God his hand to tell him that you cannot believe you are finally getting to see this. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and the two of you walk right into the portal that transports you onto a platform with the galaxy all around you.

Your heart beats rapidly at the sight of the stars, constellations amongst constellations, stars connecting one another, milky ways, and everything else you do not know the exact names to. Seokjin allows you to run towards the balcony, your body lurching forward as you hold onto the white railing and look down. The small island you are on hovers in the galaxy where the night surrounds it all as if you are floating in the universe.

The Gods only surprises you more and more no matter how much you have seen in their memories.

"This is so beautiful!" You breathe as you close your eyes for a moment to take it all in. "I cannot believe I am soulmates to not just one but seven Gods who holds so much power and have the privilege to see all of your worlds."

Seokjin smile when he walks up to you with a hand rounding your back protectively so that you do not fall from the small island. "We are the most lucky of them all to be able to share our worlds with you." He listens to the beat of your heart as it flutters and loves the way you lean back to curl up along his side. It is still a wonder how he was able to be fated with seven; six Gods and a beautiful mortal. No matter how the world may see it, the God of Stars understands more than anyone that names that have been written in the stars will never fall out of place.

He loves you so much just as he loves the six Gods and when he feels that you've heard his thoughts and feel the heat of your body rising, Seokjin lets you hide your face against his chest, a chuckle escaping him because he knows you must be blushing red. Oh how sweet their little mortal is with a gentle heart that is the most purest of them all.

.

.

.

He watches you from afar, the sight of you in a new day under the bright sun that has become his whole life. The Sun God does not know how such beauty can exist. He has seen it in through the other Gods, always feeling such blessing falling upon him from the first moments he had first met them and even now as he stands years after, he still falls hard for the beauty that befalls each of his soulmates.

And now it is your turn, once just a mortal who now has immortality given by the wisteria. He watches you with a fond gaze as you look out the balcony that leads down to the garden unlike the one in your shared room. You have no idea he is there, your beauty only stunning him further. It almost looks as if you are glowing under the Sun, whom, he knows, has also become fond of you. He has her to thank, for leading him to your mountain, for letting them finally meet you. She has been through your worst days, watched you time and time again as you grew into the person you have become, hoping to give you as much light as she can.

He has read the Sun's thoughts, how she always felt guilty for not being able to give you warmth, but Hoseok knows not to blame her and he knows you would never as well. That is how kind he knows you are, a heart made of gold, and he knows that from now on, the Sun will always watch over you and protect you from anything that will ever dare to do you harm. He smiles graciously at her before returning his gaze to look upon you again.

"My love?"

You jump slightly at his voice but immediately relax when you know that it is Hoseok. You look away from the view to bless him with a sweet smile and he finds his heart fluttering. Oh how Hoseok loves being in love.

"Hello, Hoseok."

He smiles gently when you walk up to him and lean against his soft touches when he holds your face. You are happy right now, so happy, and it makes him proud of how far you have come. "Do you sometimes miss the cold, sweet Y/N?" He asks you, knowing that your whole life you have been surrounded by the winter cold.

You giggle at his question and allows his heart to burst. "Our tribe has always wanted to meet Spring," you tell him as you let him look back on your memories. Your village always speaks of the beautiful season, how they wish that even if it will last just one day, they would take it in a heartbeat. The young children will dream about it, the young adults complaining about how tired they are of the cold, the elderlies knowing they will see it one day when they lay on their death beds.

"And you?" He asks.

"I am happy things are the way they are," you tell him and he sees how you think of your first meeting with them, how frightened you had been at first, but also how relieved you were to find out you would not die that day but to live on and on. "I am so, so happy. After all, I met Spring the moment we met."

He wants to hide the fact that he wishes to kiss you but how can the Sun God ever hide anything from his soulmate? Not especially when the two of you are touching and you both can hear each other's very thoughts. So he slides his hand away from yours, clearing his throat a little awkwardly as he looks away, not before noticing the little blush that has made it onto your cheeks. He knows you are not ready yet and knows it is not the time just yet, understanding that you need a little more time. He will be ready when you are, when you can give yourself to them, not when he wishes for it to just happen.

Because Hoseok is a gentleman. He will not force something upon you and let you know his little wishes to grow closer to you because he does not want you to think that you must do something if he so wishes. He is still a powerful God, knowing fully well how you see yourself below his level and may sometimes feel self conscious because they are so high and mighty. He doesn't want you to feel as if you are obligated to reciprocate his wishes so he lets out a sigh.

"Forgive me, little one, I did not mean-"

You take his hand again to rest his palm right against your cheek and his eyes widen at the blush on your face and the understanding of what it is you are too shy to speak aloud of, feelings hidden inside, something only he and the rest can read.

You wish to kiss him as well, to feel his soft lips against yours, to understand what it is like to kiss for the first time, to kiss a God.

"My love," he worries, "you do not have to-"

"I understand, Hoseok," you've read his worries but still you are determined to do this, to let him know that it is not because he wishes to kiss you but the fact that you want this all on your own. You wish to kiss him. "Please?" You ask and he does not know how anyone can say no to those precious eyes of yours that looks up at him, reflecting that of a puppy.

He feels a slight shift in you and realizes right, you are not fond of the animal. "Forgive me." You shake your head in response to him, smiling to let him understand that you know he means well.

So the God of Sun beams softly. You are ready for him when he holds you with both hands, heart drumming hard against your chest with rosy cheeks adorning your face to let him know that you are also nervous. Nervous but excited. He leans in to rest his forehead against yours, breaths gently grazing against one another, and you close your eyes. He watches you through a hooded gaze before his eyes flutter shut the instant his lips meet yours in a gentle, gentle kiss.

Your lips are softer than what he has imagined them to be, softer and sweeter than any dreams that have invaded his mind. You sigh against his lips and he holds you a little more firm, the euphoric feeling both bursting within your bodies. Hoseok is used to this feeling as he is reminded of the countless times he has kissed his other soulmates.

But for you this is your first time, your first kiss, and the first time kissing another who was born to be yours from the beginning of time. Your head spins and when he pulls away, you are standing almost limping against his hold, feeling so breathless as you try to catch your breath.

"I should have gone easy on you," he worries but you shake your head, cheeks still caught aflame as you look up at him with glistening lips. You liked it, you tell him from your thoughts as you tiptoe up to press a little peck on his cheek. Hoseok chuckles as he feels his stomach bursting with butterflies.

But as much as he wants to swoop you up and carry you to the bedroom, his eyes catches the Sun behind you and frowns. He hasn't gotten more time to spend with you and when you hear his thoughts, you let him go gently. But he knows you are feeling a little sad knowing he has to leave right now so Hoseok gives you a small smile with a hand stroking your cheek. "I will be back in no time, alright?" He promises. Your cheeks never cools down, making him chuckle when you nod at him shyly. "Wait for me."

"Mmn."

When he disappears to transport himself elsewhere, your thoughts are in shambles as you walk back slowly to the bedroom. It takes a while with how slow you are going as you try not to think back on the kiss but how can you not?

Once you make it into the room again, the door closes behind you as you lean your back into it, eyes still widened, cheeks still red, and a finger comes up to press against your lips. You kissed him, you kissed Hoseok. Well, he kissed you but same thing. He gave you the first kiss you had once dreamt of, never knowing exactly whether you would ever receive such a delicate touch and now here you are in a palace made for your Gods, a life for you to live in forever.

"Love?"

You gasp at the sound, not realizing someone was in the bedroom but when you look up, it isn't just the God of Knowledge. Yoongi has joined him on the bed as well and you blush some more, embarrassed for the fact that they have seen you thinking back on your kiss with Hoseok.

You don't know what to do as they look at you quizzically and knowing how bad it will be if they were to stand up and come your way. Ever since you've met them you never minded being able to share thoughts with just simple touches, but now? Now you really understand how intimate this soulmate thing really is and you aren't sure whether it is a good thing at this moment.

"Are you alright?" The God of Music calls and you are quick to shake your head vehemently to rid of the thoughts.

"Y-yeah." If your face doesn't give it away then it would be the shaking of your voice. Gosh you wish you could easily hide your feelings without someone being able to read it so easily with how it is written on your face. When you look up at them, your eyes instantly falls to their lips and you don't know how you will ever survive this.

Perhaps it would be easier if Hoseok was here to explain things, perhaps then you wouldn't find yourself so pressed to the doors and shrink back timidly as Namjoon and Yoongi leave the bed to walk up to you.

"Do you have a fever?" Namjoon frowns and his hand goes to fall against your forehead before you can stop him.

Oh crap.

"Oh." His eyes dilates when the touch allows him to read your thoughts and Namjoon sees the vision of you and Hoseok kissing just moments ago. Yoongi watches the two of you in confusion, how the corner of Namjoon's lips begin to curl and the way your face refuses to cool. So he touches your face out of curiosity and chuckles when he understands.

"Why are you embarrassed, hm?" The God of Music queries. "We are lovers, after all, kissing is just a sign of declaration."

Oh how you wish someone could just bury you alive. But of course the Gods were never going to allow that, but they understand what you mean. "I-It isn't just that," you say and when your thoughts are given to them, the two of them grins.

"Ah," says the God of Knowledge, "you wish to kiss us as well."

He didn't have to say that out loud.

They chuckle amusingly before Yoongi falls a little more serious as he brush your hair to the side. "My love," he calls, "you have no need to shy away. We are lovers now, soulmates, and if there is anything that you wish to do, it is alright for you to think such thoughts. Sleep with us, bathe with us, kissing us." You wonder how he has such bravery to say such things but is reminded all over again that they've done it all, done everything together. Images of them fill your memories and it makes your heart drum louder against your chest.

"I.." you trail off, eyes falling away from his out of embarrassment, "I-I know."

"Will you look at me?" He asks of you. You hesitate, of course you do, but Yoongi remains patient as he waits for your head to lift up and finally meet his gaze again. When you do just that, he gives you his precious gummy smile. "Look at you," the Music God praises, "I am so proud of you, dear one." He leans down to press a kiss on your cheeks, lifts his head a bit to kiss you on the forehead before his lips trail down, following the line between your brows and down to the tip of your nose.

"It's alright," Namjoon coaxes as he falls at your side, peppering soft kissing upon your shoulder.

You do not mind it so they go further. Namjoon continues his ministrations while Yoongi's lips hover above yours. When you give no refusal, he captures your lips and your heart grows rapidly against your chest. Soft lips nibble upon yours with gently wet sounds as he changes the angle and your mind becomes so hazy. Your fingers cling onto his royal robe, clutching it tightly as a small whimper falls from your lips.

When Yoongi falls away, Namjoon replaces his position. Your heart swoons, tummy filled with dancing butterflies all around, with thoughts filled with just them and them alone. His lips are sweet and gentle against yours, pressing upon them in a manner that has your head spinning all over again.

The moment they both finally release you, you fall against Namjoon's chest who holds you up because you have no strength to do so. One day you will get used to this strong burst of emotions, to the soulmate bond, but right now your eyes droop as you lean against Namjoon's hold who walks to the bed to lay you down gently. "It's okay," he whispers to you when Yoongi falls to your other side. They hold you gently, arms wrapped around your body. "Sleep now, my sweet dove."

You love them and they hear it but you want to say it aloud. Yet your sleepy brain does not let you utter a sound, too tired to even open your lips to mouth it. But they know and that is all you need for now.

You can tell them tomorrow.

.

.

.

"Jin?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you...know?"

He doesn't have to read your mind to know what you mean by that. All the Star God has to do is look at the blooming pink rose adorning your cheeks to understand it all. He chuckles at the pretty sight and nods. "Of course."

Right, of course, meaning that the other Gods know as well. You avoid his eyes for your head to point towards the floor, fingers playing with one another as you gulp, trying to pick up the courage to ask him something else. Seokjin remains patient from where he stands, watching the stars as he always does, watching over everything. You aren't even sure if it is right to bother him with this but he has told you plenty of times that you are never a bother to him. If you wish to ask him things, he only encourages you to speak up.

"Why does..why does the soulmate bond, um..." you try to find the right words. Perhaps he will understand better if he touches you but you feel you are already bothering him enough. "Why does it feel..um...overwhelming?" Is that the right word? "Is it for the reason that we are made of eight souls and not two?"

The God of Stars hum. "That is part of it, yes," he tells you. "Soulmate bonds are very powerful, my sweet, so it only grows stronger when it is declared through intimacy. When there is more than one partner, the bond is even stronger than that of two souls because this is not common amongst lovers to love more than one, especially being able to share that love equally. The world happens for a reason, many grows jealous for our love, many despise us for how strong this bond makes us. And because of how powerful it makes us, there is a little drawback to how much energy it can give."

"That's why...that's why..-" you clear your throat and he grins at how shy you can be just saying the word, "that's why, kissing..u-um...that's why it makes me so tired?"

He chuckles. "Precisely."

"Oh." You frown slightly. "I can't imagine how it will be when we—" You gasp, catching yourself almost immediately as you fold your hands over your mouth and Seokjin turns his gaze from the stars to look at you with amusement. There is no mockery in his gaze, however, just pure fondness that makes your heart skip a beat because even though he does not say it and even though you are not reading his mind, his gaze alone lets you know that he truly loves you.

You cannot believe you have been so blessed to be given these Gods as your soulmates. Everyone dreams of a love such as this, to have another watching them with pure fondness and amazement, with a pure love. For them to feel safe and protected. For them to know where home lies the second they meet eyes with their fated ones.

Your God walks on over to you with slow steps, eyes never leaving yours as you look up to him when he holds a hand up to stroke your soft cheeks. "You will be alright when that happens," he whispers.

You don't know how he can say that so casually but then again, you aren't his first time and you aren't the only soulmate he has. There are six more, six wonderful Gods who loves you just as much as they love one another.

"Will I?"

Seokjin nods, humming. "We will take care of you, my love. Will you trust us when the time comes?"

To make love. Gosh you cannot think about it without being a blushing mess so you stumble back from his touch, embarrassed to let him read your thoughts because with him being so close to you, it only makes things more dangerous for the good of your heart. It beats rapidly against your chest and you are quick to turn, knowing you cannot look at him straight in the eyes when you are like this. One day you will have to come face this bravely but one day is not here yet and you still cannot even speak right with just the word kiss.

So you awkwardly clear your throat as he watches you nod from the back. "Y-yes," you stutter, "I will trust you then. But..but, um...I-I'm already a bother so you..you should, should get back to your stars. Goodbye."

You can hear him letting out a soft chuckle when you run back into the portal to transport back to the castle.

.

.

.

"Ah, there you are."

You turn at the voice with a hand pressed onto the floor and a head looking over your shoulder to find the God of Ocean and Hearth walking into the room of the wisteria. You gift them a smile as they walk closer, wondering why they have been looking for you.

"There is a banquet tomorrow evening, will you join us to meet the other Gods and Goddesses?" Jungkook asks and your eyes widen a little at the invitation.

"A banquet?" You echo.

He hums. "Everyone knows we have found our last soulmate and are very intrigued on why we have been keeping you hidden in the palace."

"There have been a few banquets prior to your arrival here but we know you hadn't felt too comfortable leaving the grounds just yet," Taehyung says. "And besides, we wanted you to get used to this life first and get used to us. Gods can be quite invading and we were too protective of you to just let you go while you had yet to know of everything."

You giggle softly at the God of Ocean's words. "You were afraid of me wanting to live elsewhere and not here with you?" You interpret and they pout cutely when you caught them. You shake your head lightly as you grin. "That will never happen. You are the ones who saved me after all. Soulmates or nor, I would have stayed with you."

"Well that's relieving," Jungkook chuckles as he scratch the back of his head. "So will you join us? We have no need to go if you are not comfortable, we can just stay here if you'd like."

You shake your head again. "I would love to go."

Their faces brightens with soft smiles before the God of Ocean takes a hand out to offer to you. "Supper is served," he says. You reach out to take his hand but stop in midair as you realize what that means, suddenly retracing sheepishly because right now you cannot afford any of them to hear your thoughts just yet. It is all over the place and you absolutely cannot let Taehyung hear this. His smile falters when he puts his hand back at his side at your rejection and you are quick to jump onto your feet.

"I-I did not mean it in that way, I promise!" You declare. "I just...um..-"

"I understand," he tells you otherwise with a small smile that does not hide his moment of hurt. "It's okay, little one. Come on, the rest are waiting."

As you follow them from behind, your hands tug at your dress uncomfortably, suddenly feeling bad for letting him misunderstand you in this way. Taehyung thinks you've rejected him and when Jungkook shoots you a small smile just the same, you know you've messed up. After all, they know you've kissed three of their hyungs and maybe, perhaps, very likely, they were hoping you were ready to kiss them as well.

But now you've only made things worse because you wouldn't allow them to read your thoughts that is filled with everything about them, just them. You can't just reach for his hand to make him feel better because then he will be able to read your thoughts and right now you cannot let him do so. Not yet.

Oh how you wish you were braver.

Dinner goes smoothly...you think. But it is when you are left alone to your thoughts in the bath do you not feel so great again.

It isn't right for you to be so silent when they have declared their love to you plentifully. You know you've told Namjoon and Yoongi but that was all in your head. You haven't said it aloud and the rest of them haven't heard it said to them yet. So perhaps that is why Taehyung and Jungkook had been a little more hurt by your rejection, believing you love only two of the Gods and not everyone.

But that is so untrue yet you aren't sure how to do it, if you are brave enough to do it. But then again, you ask yourself why aren't you brave enough? They have declared their love for you, showed you how much they care, always looking out for you and doing what is best to keep you safe and warm. What is it that you have to be frightened of? They love you and you love them and you know that soulmates written under the stars shall never break apart even through death.

So why are you not brave enough? Why must you keep silent and hurt them further? Making them believe you love some of them more than the rest?

It is untrue and you have to let them know, you have to let them understand. But as much as you want to hide with the fact that they can easily read your thoughts to understand it all, even though you know that will be so much easier, you also know that it will be best to say it aloud first, to declare it aloud before you let them see into your heart. You have to tell them first before you let your heart tell them the details of it.

When you step out of the bath and wrap yourself in a white robe, your eyes fall at the evening robe that hangs on a hook and the long mirror that lets you see yourself. You watch those eyes looking back at you, fingers falling upon your wet hair, tracing the outline of your face, your brows, your eyes, nose and lips.

And it makes you wonder why they love you.

They are Gods, such powerful Gods, possibly the most powerful Gods to ever exist all due to the soulmate bonds that keeps them connected. Your hand strokes your soft cheeks, lips staying pressed together with brows that creases just a bit. You are loved by seven Gods and here you are, now an immortal yourself, still trying to get the courage to speak your heart aloud.

It should not be this hard, right?

Maybe if you hadn't been forced to grow up so alone then perhaps things could have gone a lot easier. But as Seokjin had said before, the world happens for a reason. Your tribe being attacked, you being left to live alone for ten years, saved by these precious seven souls, and now loved by them all all because you are you. A kind, sweet soul who cares so much about the world.

Perhaps you indeed deserve such a love, perhaps you indeed deserved to live on.

Their love lets you reflect on everything and the longer you look at yourself, you begin to see tears brimming along your waterline as your heart cries for how much they have given you. They've showed you that you deserve anything and everything and now you must pick up the courage to let them know that you appreciate everything and has fallen so hard. You know it must not be easy for them either but they've always been so strong for you, keeping you safe, loving you when you had yet to accept the new life and know that you deserve such wonderful things.

They've done so much for you and you know you cannot let them think that one is more than the other. You have to let them know.

"Y/N?" You turn at the call of Jimin's concerning voice and gasp at the sudden intrusion.

Oh.

They've heard you crying and now here they are again, always trying to make sure that you are alright. Knowing this, more tears well up and falls away before you can stop them, making your heart ache a little more. Their brows knit together, eyes filled with worry at the sight and they try rushing to you but you step back with hands held up to stop them. "W-wait!" You cannot allow them to touch you.

Not yet. Not just yet.

Questions fall upon their faces and you close your eyes, letting a few tears fall freely, taking in a deep breath before releasing it shakily. When you open your eyes again, your lips curl into a soft, soft smile that confuses them even more. They think that perhaps you are trying to let them go, a pain shooting at their hearts, but when you open your mouth to speak, the tightness in their chest releases.

"I love you," you say. "I love you all so much and I just wanted to thank you," you wipe a tear away though more falls and you sniff, "for loving me while I was still at a loss and couldn't understand why." The lump in your throat tries to hinder you from speaking but you swallow it to push through. "I love you for all that you've done, being patient with me, keeping me safe, always thinking of me and doing all that is best for me. I am still so, so shy, and I'm not sure if I will ever find the courage to say these things out aloud again but just know, just know that as you are holding me and reading my thoughts, know that I will always be wishing to say everything out aloud.

"I'm sorry for not being able to say this before. I'm so, so sorry if I ever caused any misinformation to let you to believe I was rejecting you by not allowing you to touch me. Truth is I was just afraid to let my heart speak before I could do it myself. Because I know that the heart understands the inner conflicted feelings before I myself can say anything out loud. And I was scared because I didn't know whether I truly deserve this or not, whether I truly deserve your love. But I understand. I understand that soulmates that have been written in the stars shall never fall, I understand that, that our love is meant to be. I'm so sorry I've just realized it. I'm sorry."

"Oh, love." Jimin wipes his own tears away as they come to surround you. "My sweet one, you have no need to apologize."

"You've just been so patient and, and I..-"

"We know," Yoongi promises. "We know so hush, it's okay. You're alright now."

Jungkook cradles your head as Taehyung brushes your tears away. Seokjin holds your face and you feel a rush of the wind at your sides, drying your hair and replacing your bathrobe with the evening gown.

"We are so proud of you," Namjoon vows. "It is never easy to speak your feelings aloud but it's okay now. We understand, dear one, we know."

"I love you," you declare again, sniffling, and they smile, smile so softly.

"Oh, love. We love you so, so much. We love you more than the universe itself."

.

.

.

When they hear the familiar footsteps of the last soulmate to meet them by the entrance door of the castle, their heads turn your way for the world to slow down and fall away, nothing else falling into their line of vision except you as you walk down gracefully with a sheepish smile their way.

The dress you have on is a soft color in golden champagne, flowing freely down to the floor as it drags when you walk, decorated with shimmering golden vines that curls all around the dress. Soft pink roses connect together at the waist of your dress and falls atop your shoulder where the lace cape drags down your back. You also have on a beautiful crown designed in pink florals and golden butterflies, matching all that you are wearing. They do not know how you can impress them even further and show that your beauty comes different with certain occasions; when you wake up, the moment after you bathe, the night before you head to sleep, your casual dresses when you walk around the castle, and now here for a banquet.

You are ethereal, more beautiful than anyone they have seen before and their hearts beats rapidly just knowing that you are theirs.

Everything about you is beautiful and they already know for sure how some of the Goddesses will grow jealous of this beauty of yours once they set eyes on you, and how the other Gods may try to catch your attention. They shake their heads at the images, mentally scoffing and rolling their eyes because you are theirs, you belong to them just as they belong to you.

"Wow," your eyes dilate at the sight of them and a little soft pink reaches your cheeks before you avert your gaze to the floor shyly. "You are handsome," you tell them and their hearts swoon.

"And you are more beautiful than Spring itself," Jimin says as he holds your chin for you to look up. You smile sheepishly at him and he chuckles, taking your hand into his. "Are you ready?"

When you arrive at the banquet, you stick to their sides, never releasing your hands that holds onto Jimin's arm because everything becomes unfamiliar and it is not the same garden you are used to back at the palace.

This one is large and gorgeous but it can never compare to the one the God of Spring has made on his own. Pretty flowers round the stoned paths in roses, pansies, lilies, and many more. The lampposts that station around the garden are wrapped in green vines that curls all the way to the tip, and pretty fairy lights shine everyone's paths. You look around like a curious little kitten, blinking surprised at all that surrounds you. The realm of the immortals is definitely more beautiful than Earth can ever be.

Ah, but then again, you've only been in one place and that would be your mountain and the snowy grounds that surrounds it. Yet you are sure Earth is still less beautiful.

Beside you, Jimin laughs softly as he's read your thoughts and you are reminded all over again that soulmates are given such ability, making you giggle yourself.

"So this must be your last soulmate." You shrink into Jimin's hold as you are met by a Goddess who smiles so beautifully your way. She is gorgeous and you find yourself shying away at her stare. "Oh she is so cute," the Goddess practically squeal when she coos, making your cheeks catch aflame and allowing your Gods to chuckle.

"She is, isn't she?" Hoseok beams proudly as he pets your head.

"Tell me, how in the world did you all manage to find yourselves another beauty?"

Catching the sight of the familiar seven Gods, more comes on by upon hearing the Goddess going on about you, curiosity filling their minds and you shrink further back at the sudden attention. Many comments upon your pure, gentle soul who looks too cute and beautiful for anything and it makes you even more flustered by everyone. Eventually (and thankfully) the crowd falls away when your Gods ask them to give you space and not horde around you. They do not say it allowed but you can feel their protective selves becoming more visible and you giggle, allowing Taehyung to playfully pinch your nose because he is not particularly fond of you calling them cute when they feel such way.

You are theirs after all, and no one should continue looking at you for much longer than a few minutes. You should be only for their eyes to see especially when you look particularly beautiful tonight. Perhaps you like this side to them, and when they hear your thoughts, it is your turn to huff and shy away all over again, making them laugh aloud.

After moments of walking around to personally meet a few Gods and Goddesses along your soulmates' sides, you are left alone to freely explore on your own. The curious side to you walks around to make little conversations with a few immortals on your own though you are still a little shy when it comes to talking to strangers.

You walk around the maze garden that falls a bit deserted while everyone mingles around the large center. You follow the fireflies that blinks like little flashlights, feet bouncing lightly as it trails away from the brightness of the garden banquet. Your dress trails behind you as you stray away from the center, running from right to left with just the fireflies as your source of light, getting yourself lost in the maze. But you know that you will be alright. After all, if your Gods need you, they can easily find you with no difficulties.

"Hello there."

Your breath hitches, jumping at the sudden sound because you hadn't expected anyone else to stray from the garden and walk in the maze. When you turn to the source of the voice, it is the sight of a God you think you have seen before while reading some of Namjoon's books. It must be the God of the Underworld, Hades. He watches you with a sly smile that falls lopsided against his lips, body leaned against a hedge before standing straight to approach you with light steps.

"I have never seen you before," he says, voice deep as a brow raises before snapping his fingers as if he's just realized something. "You must be their last soulmate then. Y/N."

It is a bit surprising even the God of the Underworld knows of you but you decide to pay it no mind, only nodding as you hope your voice does not come out too cowardly. "Yes, I am."

It doesn't work because Hades chuckles knowingly. "You have no need to fear me," he tells you but it isn't really him you become so frightful of. No, your eyes only dilates as your breath is caught up in your throat when you watch in horror at the sight of the animal that walks up from behind him. Hades' brows furrow as he falls at a loss at your trembling figure and the way your body turns from him, hands clasped around your lips while your eyes shut tight.

Cerberus. Three headed dog.

You are too frightened to scream. One because you do not wish to disturb the peacefulness of the evening banquet and two because you can't. Tears brim along your eyes while you try to hide the whimper that begins to fall from your lips behind your hands. But it doesn't really help. Hades can hear it muffled out of you.

He has no idea what you are frightened of. Surely he isn't that scary, is he? "Is something the matter?"

"P...please get it...g-get it..a..away."

A laugh falls from him as he realizes what is happening. "You're afraid of dogs? I knew mortals were quite weak but I had no idea they were this weak."

Someone wraps their arms around you, pulling you in close to their chest and you don't have to look up to know who it must be just by their scent and the touch alone. "Leave, Hades," the God of Stars command in a grave voice as Jungkook silently tells you that all will be alright, that they are here now and you have nothing to be afraid of anymore. But you can still feel the presence of the dog and it only reminds you of the cruel memories that has terrorized you plenty of times. Jungkook understands, of course he does, because no matter how connected you are with the Gods, the God of Hearth shares something a little deeper as his hearth comes from Earth.

So a hand comes behind your head as the other remains on your back, his touches whispering soft gentle words to soothe your pain and comfort you through the memories.

"This is a banquet, is it not?" You hear Hades saying and through the feeling of Jungkook's protective and caring self, anger burns his body so immensely you are surprised this is him. You're used to your Gods being so kind and gentle, never have you actually ever witnessed their angry sides.

"I will not repeat myself, Hades." You do not have to touch Namjoon to understand his anger as well. They are all angry as you hear growls from the back of their throats all hinted towards Hades who does not fall back even when asked to. The pride within him restricts him from doing as he is told even though the God of the Underworld knows he cannot go up against the seven Gods who are the most powerful especially when together. Your Gods are fuming with wrath, not fond of anyone threatening their soulmate's safety which in this case would be you and you can hear the thoughts of Jungkook as he holds you, knowing he will burn the whole garden down if it means Hades will leave.

But their anger towards the God of the Underworld elicits growling from his loyal dog who does not like anyone trying to go up against his Lord and it makes you whimper, body shrinking more towards Jungkook who hears your thoughts.

You don't care about Hades or anything anymore, you just wish to go home. So he lets out a sigh though he is still riled with anger and turns to the God of Knowledge. "Let's go, Namjoon."

You feel their eyes turning to you at those words before sighs leave their own lips and you are brought back not a moment too soon.

"We're home now, little one. You're alright now."

But you don't leave Jungkook's arms, still so, so afraid because the horrible memories of that Winter day will not go away despite Cerberus now nowhere to be seen. His eyes fall with pain and worry as he holds you, meeting the Gods with an understanding gaze and just letting you cry it all out. Your heart hurts, body still trembling, and when you feel you cannot hold your body up for much longer, Jungkook picks you up to walk on over to the bed and have you sitting right on his lap.

"Shh, it's okay, my love, it's okay." He continues whispering soft words to your ears, rocking your body gently against him while pressing soft kisses upon your head. The others come to surround you, hands holding yours, pressing kisses upon your shoulders while you sob and sob.

"You're okay, you're alright. Everything will be alright. We're right here. We'll always be here."

"..Scary..." You whimper.

"I know, I know. We'll make it all okay again, alright? You have no need to be afraid anymore."

"We'll always be here. We'll protect you from all that threatens to harm you."

"You're our precious mate and we will never let anything happen to you again."

"We'll make it better."

.

.

.

You awake at the feeling of gentle fingertips running along your face, stroking it with soft touches, and small incoherent whispers beside you. They fall into a comfortable silence when they feel your mind drifting out of unconsciousness. Once your eyes finally releases from the haze, you see both the God of Ocean and Spring looking down at you as they prop themselves up against their elbows.

"Good morning," Taehyung greets with a gentle smile.

"We are here, love," Jimin says when your mind is reminded of the nightmare you had before, blurring your vision and feeling so thankful that they are here right now. The God of Spring leans down to press a soft kiss to your head and almost instantly you feel your tense body relaxing once more, mind now clear of anything that would harm you.

"Thank you," you whisper, voice still trying to adjust to the waking world. He nods at you and you feel another kiss placed upon your temple. Taehyung brushes away the tear that fell when you blinked and kiss the fingertip that held onto the salty water droplet.

"Feeling better?" You nod and he smiles, relieved. Your brows knit just slightly when you realize no one else is in bed because you do not feel anymore presence to fill up the empty spaces. Usually when you have woken, all of your Gods would still be around before breakfast is served and they'll run off to their own duties. The God of Ocean hears your thoughts and returns to stroking your soft cheek. "You slept in this morning, my love. It is almost noon," he explains. "We have agreed on two of us staying here until you awake so that you would not have to be greeted by the emptiness of the room."

"Oh," you frown. "I'm sorry."

Jimin shakes his head. "No need, my little flower, you had a rough night after all. Now come," he helps you sit up as Taehyung uses his powers to wheel a tray of food forward, "you must be hungry."

There are plates of fresh toast and sweet biscuits along with two eggs, a cup of milk, and a bowl of sliced fruits set onto the tray that is placed onto your lap. Your two Gods do not allow you to use your energy as they feed you on their own, letting you bite slowly and taking your sweet time. It comes to no surprise that the food is delicious because everything you you've had will always be the best. This is the house of Gods after all, and they will have nothing fall below standard.

When you grow full, they let you run off to the bathroom to get ready for the new day though help you with brushing your hair. You sit in between them on the bed as Taehyung runs a brush through your soft hair and face Jimin who plays with the soft delicate touches of your fingers. You see his subtle smile when the God of Spring stares at them, his thoughts echoing to you with nothing kept a secret. It is odd to him how small you are, hands a tinier size than his despite how small his is compared to the rest of the Gods and especially the one behind you who has the largest of them all.

Everyone's hands engulfs his and yours and he is proud to be able to engulf your own. You giggle as his thoughts passes onto you and Jimin looks up, grinning sweetly. "Little rose, I have heard the mortals spreading myths of how the size of how hands reflects the size of our hearts but I say that is preposterous."

Taehyung laughs. "I say the myth is fair."

"Fair?" Jimin scoffs. "That's only because your hands are ginormous."

"And so is my heart," he hums.

"Maybe so but look at us," the God of Spring clasp your hands together and holds it up for the God of Ocean to see, "our hands may be small but our hearts are much bigger than it."

"Hmm...perhaps you're right."

"Perhaps?" Jimin echoes, scoffing again and this time with huff. "My heart is big and you know it."

Taehyung shakes with a choral of laughter before he releases the brush to sit it on the soft mattress and reaches for Jimin's hands that had fallen out of yours. "Love, you know I was only playing." With you in between, the God of Ocean pulls Jimin forward just slightly so that when he leans in, his lips can meet Jimin's cheek.

"You missed." The God of Spring still feigns to be upset so Taehyung chuckles at his lover, leaning in again to capture Jimin's lips.

Your heart skips a beat and perhaps they hear it, perhaps they feel it because their kiss does not last long and now their heads are turned your way. You grow petals pink after being caught and the two of them looks at one another with a sly grin curling at their lips before they return the attention on you again. You swallow, heart beating hard against your chest as your eyes fall away shakily because you know they can hear your thoughts.

"Hmm..does the little one want a kiss too?"

You shrink at the question, feeling your face heating up even more because they know, they can hear your thoughts yet Jimin asks that.

"I want to hear you, little one," the God explains. "After all, you said it yourself, did you not? Your heart understands what you want before you can try to say anything out loud."

Taehyung hums. "And that whatever is said in your heart, you want to say them all out loud but you are far too shy."

"Can we hear it, love?" He holds your chin and lifts it easily, lips curled upward to a side as he looks down at you and your heart only burns some more. His thumb delicately traces along your lips as Taehyung's fingers gathers your hair to put it a side so that your neck is exposed for him to softly graze against. Jimin leans in at your distracted mind filled of both him and the Ocean God, forehead resting against yours with his nose just centimeters away from yours, breath hitting you as he speaks. "Hm, love? Can you do us this little favor?" He smells like soft petals and peaches perfectly combined. "I want to hear your sweet voice."

You hesitate but you can never take your eyes off him no matter how bold Jimin's gaze is, feeling the need to just give him all that he wants. He grins knowingly at your thoughts, feeling his ego boosted and your eyes fall away shyly again. He pouts and you almost want to giggle at how desperate he is for your attention so you give it to him again, cheeks still flushed. "I..." You gulp, brows furrowed and not knowing whether you are brave enough but their touches encourages you on, telling you to go on, that they'll take care of you. So you let out a soft sigh. "Jimin.."

He's excited. "Hm?"

You look away for a brief moment before meeting his eyes again. "Can you..can you kiss me?"

Jimin's heart flutters as he grins brilliantly. Oh, what a sweet little soul, he thinks. "With pleasure."

When he captures your lips, it is so soft and delicate. Jimin's hand wraps around your waist as he pulls you in towards him closer as if you are not close enough, lips dancing with yours as he effortlessly takes the lead. Taehyung's fingers circles your neck and down your exposed collarbones and you are sent to heaven, an eternal bliss, a mind that is filled of them and just them. Jimin kisses you like you are a precious gem, like you are so fragile and he cannot bear to break you.

When his lips pull away, another hand comes to your face to turn you and your lips are captured by another, barely given any time to take a breather. "Mm...so sweet," Taehyung whispers against your lips and you feel Jimin's hands flicking your hair down back behind your neck again. He peppers kisses to your neck and you make a little sound into Taehyung's lips. It all feels so sweet and blissful but the familiar overwhelming feeling returns and your head spins.

When the God of Ocean leans away, he chuckles at the way your strength had left you and holds you up to have your body resting against his chest instead of falling back onto the mattress. "Dizzy?" Jimin observes after leaving your neck, his fingers coming up to brush your hair behind your ears. You nod weakly. "Don't worry love, the more these moments happen, the dizziness will no longer return and you'll come to embrace this overwhelming feeling."

"That's not fair, you already tired her out before I could get a chance." When another voice comes in, the three of you look up to find the God of Hearth near the doors as he tsks lightly, arms crossed against his chest while he pouts cutely.

Taehyung laughs. "You are to blame for not taking up the chance to remain here with our little love."

Jungkook huffs. "I had business down on Earth."

"You went to Earth?" Your brows raise, mouth forming into a little 'o.'

He nods as he walks forward to reach the bed. "I go there pretty often. The Earth needs my hearth after all, but I am usually disguised as a mortal."

"Where do you usually go?"

He sits in front of you while you're still using Taehyung for support and he takes a hand, smiling as he greets it with a kiss on the back. "The north and southern poles or anyplace near it." He pauses for a second before speaking again. "You know, I have not found any other hidden tribes who resides on mountains."

"We had a sister tribe," you tell him and he sees through your memories of the stories the elders would go on and go about back when you lived on the mountain. "I assume they were possibly raided as well and no one survived. Perhaps the snow buried their homes."

"Mortals can be quite cruel," Jimin sighs.

"But it's okay," Taehyung says as he plays with your hair, "Hoseok and Seokjin has condemned the murderers."

"Right."

"How are you feeling, my love?" Jungkook asks as he looks at you with some concern. He isn't just asking about the aftermath of the soulmate bond but of the night before as well, wanting to know if you really are alright again. They're still so protective of you, hating any pain and affliction to fall upon you and would do anything just to relieve you from them. You are reminded of that moment at the garden and your eyes fall to the hands that holds your own. "What is it?"

"You are all so sweet and kind," you say, squeezing his hand as you turn to look at Jimin and Taehyung before returning your gaze to the one before you, "and after last night, I know I would never want to get on your angry sides. It was scary."

They chuckle, knowing you mean well and Jungkook holds your palm up to press a kiss there. "You will never have to fear of our wrath pointing your way," the God of Hearth vows. "How can we ever get upset with you? You are our lovely little flower."

"The seven of us alone does not fight very often," Jimin says. "After all, we are soulmates, we're all soulmates, so we understand each other more than anything and anyone. There is no reason to hold secrets, no reason for misunderstandings to ignite."

You are reminded of that moment back at the wisteria, refusing to let Taehyung hold you and allowing him to look and feel hurt. The God takes your hands from Jungkook and presses a gentle kiss to your head after hearing your thoughts. "Moments like that can happen, though," he tells you and lets you see the memories of that time he and Yoongi almost went to bed upset and hurt. They of course resolved the problem in the end before anything could get worse. "As long as we communicate, love, there is no need for anyone to lose their temper."

"Okay."

He hum. "Okay?"

You nod as you look up at him with a loving gaze before it falls and you're looking back at Jungkook. The dizziness has gone away and your mind isn't so hazy in blindness anymore. You'll get used to this, you know you will. After all, kissing them is rewarding and quite lovely so you'd be glad to getting used to the strong soulmate bond. The God of Spring and Ocean chuckles knowingly at your thoughts, leaving Jungkook in question when you look down with a blooming blush because he isn't touching you.

The God of Hearth doesn't go on to touch you though, because he feels you will tell him if you want or place your own hands on his skin. The moment lasts a few long seconds more before you're letting out a sigh and deciding to be brave about it. You want to kiss the youngest one of the Gods so you will and you can feel Jimin and Taehyung both waiting with anticipation and excitement.

"Kook...?"

"Hm?"

"May I?" You ask. His brows furrow with confusion and he's about to reach up to touch you but you hold your palm up to stop him, causing him to blink but place his hand back onto his lap, respecting your wishes.

"Go on," he tells you though is unsure of what you mean.

You take a deep breath again, hearing the two Gods beside you silently cheering you on as you step up to your knees and watching Jungkook with an intense gaze. He waits, anticipating what will happen, when you place your hands on his shoulders and lean in to press a quick peck right on his lips.

His eyes widen at the sudden and unexpected kiss that was honestly way too quick to him to truly enjoy. So he chuckles at the way your cheeks roses even more because you are so shy and he's proud of you taking that courage to take the first step on telling him what you want without him needing to touch you. He hears your thoughts now, ones that whispers soft i love you's to him and Jungkook's eyes crinkle as he shows you that boyish smile. He puts his hands on both sides of your waist and pull you onto his lap, lips pecking right upon your own.

You're beet red and he laughs, pressing another quick kiss before he leans in again for it to last longer. His kisses are playful and sweet and it makes you chuckle out sweet giggles that echoes into the large room, sounding like music to their ears as it mixes with the smacking sounds of kisses and your Gods' soft laughs.

Your morning that day is filled with the soft ringing of laughter echoing into the room with the wind carrying it out the open windows that leads to the balcony.

.

.

.

The garden is even more beautiful than the one you had seen at the banquet, walking down a lone path under the starry night skies. You cannot sleep that night but your thoughts are filled with only pleasant thoughts. The purple blossoms that follows the path you walk on is divine, a type of flower you know must not exist on Earth with how ethereal it looks. It glows only at night, light sparkles glittering and falling out into the skies from the center of its petals. You close your eyes, welcoming the night breeze as it passes along your side, thankful for the fact that one of your soulmate is the God of Spring.

The stars above shines brightly, creating a blooming milky way that is entirely different from the view on Earth. How did you fall so lucky to be written under the stars with wonderful Gods whose hearts are made of gold? You are so lucky to be blessed with loving Gods who will not hesitate to do anything for you.

"It isn't fair, you know." You jump a little at the sound and turn to find the God of Stars standing a few feet away as he leans against a pillar with a slight frown.

"Jin," you sigh, greeting him with a smile before pouting at the sight of his furrowed brows. "What isn't fair?"

"I am the oldest," he says, making you even more confused. "Do you not believe that I should have been the first one, or one of the firsts, to claim your lips?"

Oh.

He sulks at the fact that you have kissed all the Gods saved for him, an underlying insecurity falling upon him though he hides it behind a pout and a playful tone. But you can understand your God of Stars without him needing to explain or you needing to touch him. Seokjin is a patient God, one who will never rush anything if you are not ready just as the rest, but you know that it must confuse him to come to know that you have already shared lips with the others.

"I'm sorry," you say sincerely as you come to walk towards him. Seokjin stands straight from the pillar and takes a small step back at your approach. You stop, frowning.

"No, my love," he tells you with a small smile that is all too painful. "You do not have to force yourself if you do not wish for it."

"Oh Seokjin," your heart falls for him. He worries for you, not wanting anything to be forced no matter how much he wants it because he is a gentleman. Seokjin is afraid, you can see it in his sad smile, and if these past months has taught you anything, it'd be that you have come to understand them a little better without having to feel. "I promise you I am not feeling forced to do anything," you say as you start walking again and falling silently relieved when he does not move this time. "I'm sorry, I hadn't meant for this to happen when I kissed them."

"No," he sighs, "I know you did not. You have no need to apologize, I just-"

You take his hand once you come close enough and let your face sweetly nuzzle against his palm. You let him know that you want this, you truly do, and that you aren't afraid of it anymore. Perhaps another step further is still further in the future but right now, as you're taking things step by step, you want this, you want to share kisses with them. With all of them.

"I want this," you say it aloud as you gaze up at him with a sincere gaze.

He falls silent for a moment, just watching you as if he is mesmerized, as if he is entranced, and it only makes your heart flutter because you can hear his thoughts. "Really?" He asks though he can feel you. You respond with a small nod. "Hm," he hums softly, thinking. You want to laugh at how he's deciding to play hard to get with this and roll your eyes.

"Do you want it?"

"Do I?"

"I'll give it to you."

"Will you?"

It is even more hilarious when the two of you can understand the confirmed feelings by the touches so you chuckle and he follows along to the amusement, echoing your gentle laugh. "But just know," you hold up a finger, "I am no expert just because I have kissed the six of you already."

He hums. "I know."

But he makes no move and it leaves you standing flustered. "You..y-you can't," you stutter, "you cannot expect me to make the first move?"

Seokjin shrugs. "You did it with Jungkook."

"But that was just a little-"

"No excuses, my dear." he tells you, pouting. "Do you not believe that you owe me a little something? Hm?"

You mirror his pout and let out a small sigh. "Alright," you decide and take a deep breath. You don't know how you will ever get used to this when just one little peck gets you so flustered but because Seokjin is still a bit upset, you know you cannot refuse his request. You have to do this for him. So you place your hands on his shoulders, mimicking the action you had done with Jungkook and close your eyes shut with feet tip toeing up because he is tall, and press a kiss right on his lips before letting out a little crying sound as your head buries against his chest out of embarrassment.

The God of Stars laughs. "It's not funny," you chide with a pout and can still feel the lingering sensation of his lips.

"My sweet galaxy, do you really believe that I will accept a little peck as a kiss?" You huff and leave his arms with flushed cheeks, your pout deepening. He grins at the way your eyes refuses to meet his, knowing the exact reasons why. But he understands so he lets out a sigh. "Alright, I'll let this one slide since I love you and you're my shy little star."

He backs you up against the pillar, taking your face into a hand and squishing your cheeks. You don't know how he can act in such a way that makes your heart skip a beat but also be so playful about it. So you let out a soft whine, cheeks puffed out with your lips turned into a duck because of the way he holds your face. "Seokjin~"

He laughs that cute laugh that only makes things worse for your heart and you huff again. "Alright, alright," he says, calming down. At least he's feeling better so you know you aren't exactly upset with him. Seokjin smirks at the thought though there is an underlying soft fondness in his gaze as he feels thankful for you, only reminded of how much he loves you. Seokjin pulls your face forward and leans in, pressing a soft kiss but leaving too fast just like you had done.

You're about to say something when he leans in again, this time slower and more sensual. The grip upon your face releases and is replaced by both hands that holds you in a gentle manner as he presses you up further against the pillar. Your heart skips a beat, beating rapidly against your chest at how skillful and sweet he is. Your mind retraces back to those memories that belongs to him, knowing the God of Stars has the most experience in such field. He's had experience even before meeting his soulmates but who can blame him? His face alone will make anyone drop to the floor and it makes you a bit at a loss on how you should feel. He's yours now, so you won't have to worry about anyone else, right?

"Focus on me, sweet one," the God of Stars whispers against your lips to let you take a little breather for just a split second before he's capturing your lips and heart again. "I'm yours, my dear," he vows and nibbles along your lower lip. "I'm yours."

Your thoughts are filled with nothing but him while your heart continues to race on and on into the starry night.

.

.

.

The God of Sun watches you from the doorway while you sit in a comfortable armchair near the center of the room with a piece of clothing on your lap, thread and needle in a hand as you sew through something white and fuzzy onto the golden fabric. He smiles at the sight of peace and serene, knowing how you like to keep yourself busy and use some time to do things you like.

Most days you will read in Namjoon's library, or walk around tending to the garden, or becoming friendly with their elements; the wisteria, the sun, the stars, and the fishes in the ocean. Today you are in your own element, sewing something that looks like something they have gotten for you. You like to redesign a few things if you can, giving your own touches along their spoiled gifts because it makes you feel closer to them. He smiles at the sight, loving all that belongs to you. Your heart and thoughts are the most gentle out of everything.

Thunder rolls outside, causing your head to perk up and look on over towards the opening balcony where the windows instantly falls closed on their own upon the sound of rain beginning to fall from the clouds. It has been cloudy this whole day so it wasn't a surprise to Hoseok that it's beginning to rain but you look a little surprised, eyes probably too focused inside to notice the weather.

But you don't mind the rain because anything aside from the constant winter you had been used to back on the mountain is beautiful. Sunny days are gorgeous, rainy days are pretty.

A gasp that falls from your lips leaves him to quickly revert his attention back on you and he sees the way you whine as you hold up your forefinger, whimpering. Hoseok is by your side in an instant as he surprises you by picking you up and moving you towards the sofa where he sits you on his lap, a hand coming up to hold your pricked finger and hold it to his lips. One kiss alone is enough to heal the pain and take the blood away.

"Hoseok.."

"Did you not tell me once that a seamstress must never fall distracted?" He reminds you as he brings his lips to greet you on the temple.

"It was the thunder's fault," you pout and he erupts with a laugh before another voice walks in.

"You cannot blame mother nature for your moment of recklessness," Taehyung says.

At the sight of the rest of your Gods arriving, your heart flutters with excitement and Hoseok chuckles knowingly. "I have a question," you say clapping your hands together.

Jungkook takes the seat you had sat in before, Taehyung, Seokjin, and Jimin sitting on the sofa directly from you and Hoseok, while Namjoon sits across Jungkook and Yoongi comes on to settle himself beside you and Hoseok. "What is it?" The God of Knowledge prompts.

"Does it ever snow here?"

Jungkook raises a brow. "That sounds like you want for it to happen."

You shrug lightly as your eyes fall back on the work in your lap, returning to pick up your needle to begin threading through again. "I was just thinking," you say with a soft smile, "I don't think the snow will bring back bad memories anymore. After all, I was born on a snowy day and grew up with it my whole life. I just want to be reminded of the good times back on that mountain, be reminded of everyone there."

They watch you with a soft gaze, fondness falling upon them as they smile because of how much you've grown. Yoongi brushes your hair to the side, a hand stroking your cheek in a gentle manner. "We're so proud of you, little one."

You look up, beaming.

"Well, anything can happen," Jimin tells you. "We'll just have to wait for December to come."

"I came here around January," you remember, confused. "Shouldn't it have snowed then?"

Hoseok props his chin up against your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. "You wanted to meet Spring, remember? So we had to make it happen, because our sweet soulmate could not take the cold anymore and we didn't want you to continue suffering." Your heart blossoms with a thousand heartbeats that escalates, fingers pausing on the needle as you look up at Hoseok. He hears your thought and squeezes your side. "When it comes to you, love, we will do all the impossible just to make you smile."

You fall silent for a moment and can feel the tears beginning to brim as you look through his thoughts. "You were going to make it Spring  all year round?"

"Of course."

You have heard that Summer can grow very overheated, the sun becoming overwhelming from time to time that no mortal likes to leave the house just as Winter can get quite cold. But it's already been months, somewhere around July, and the heat has yet to come. This place is paradise because of them, being able to control the weather in however way they'd like, being able to make it Spring all year round just for you. Because you wanted to meet Spring. Because you liked Spring.

Your lips quiver as you drop your needle and turn to wrap your arms around the God of Sun. "Thank you," you whisper when the rest almost has a heart attack at your tears. It's soft, so much softer than the storm that falls outside. It doesn't scare you so you're fine, knowing the plants need their water from the clouds. And you know that no matter how quiet you may be, they hear you, they always hear you.

"Oh love," Hoseok sighs contently as the Gods come to surround the two of you.

They love you so much and everyday when you think you're already at the end, you end up falling deeper and deeper in love. Perhaps as the years passes on and on, the love will grow even more than it is at this moment. You are so blessed to have them in your life, to be saved by them, your soulmates. No other love will ever come to compare with theirs. "I'm so happy," you sniffle.

Yoongi sends you a gentle smile when you look up again to look at them all. His hands reaches out to cup your face, fingers brushing away the tears that have fallen. "We are too, my sweet muse." Namjoon hums softly in agreement while Jimin takes your little work to set it aside on the coffee table inside the circle of furniture so that the needle doesn't accidentally hurt you again.

"You may look pretty when you cry, my love, but we prefer your beautiful face when you smile instead," Taehyung says.

"Sorry," you giggle.

He beams, sighing. "There it is."

Seokjin takes a hand of yours. "We can make Winter return if you'd like. It will definitely not grow as cold as it was on the mountain, however, because we would never want you to freeze and see you in pain."

"Thank you." You squeeze his hand.

"I have another good news." You look on over at Jungkook with anticipation, head tilted just slightly to the side as you blink, wondering what he wants to say. He takes a second, pulling something out from his pocket then shows you his fist before opening it right in front of you. Your breath hitches at the sight, eyes widening and tearing up all over again when you catch sight of the nostalgic memory hidden on the object he holds out to you alone.

"My mother's bracelet..." you breathe when a tear falls and another comes. You had lost it one day traveling through the snow and because the strings were too frail to even hold together after you tried fixing it, it snapped and slipped right out of your wrist when you weren't paying attention. You tried to look for it when you realized it was no longer there but it had been impossible to do so under all that snow. "How..?"

"I saw it in your memories," the God of Hearth says as he smiles and gently goes to brush your tears, "so I retraced the steps back when I returned to the mountain. I know how much it means to you." The bracelet is in a much better condition, strings now strong and firm along with the colors of the beads looking as bright and new as it had been firstly given to your mother. You have no words, too touched that saying thank you again sounds too worthless to say so. But he hears you. He understands. The God of Hearth takes the bracelet to roll it onto your wrist with a smile.

While the rain continues falling and falling, dropping against the windowsill constantly, your heart is warmed with delight and love that you have no words that can perfectly describe how you feel. But that's okay because as long as your Gods are here, touching you, they can understand all that cannot be described with words. "I love you," you tell them instead, sniffling.

Namjoon chuckles. "No more tears, okay?"

You nod, wiping away the remaining tears on your own before showing them the smile that they love so much.

"That's right," Jimin muses, "you are the most beautiful when you smile."

[alpacaparkaseok]

As Fate Would Have It

[1 / 5] 

Ghost

The last time I saw him was July 16, 1392. It was also the day I died. 

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➣ pairing/genre: idol!KTH x reader, past life au // feat. OT7 BTS

➣ word count: 1.3k (jus a lil bitty beginning)

➣ warnings/tags: this is gonna talk about death, but not in a super gruesome/direct way. we keep things pretty SFW over here

a/n: here we goooo! thank you guys for sticking around for this new series, I hope you enjoy it! as always, your comments, reblogs, and asks mean so much to me and really help more than you know to keep going. So please let me know how you feel about this new series! Enjoy! 💕 p.s. if you didn’t read the prologue I would recommend you do! 

--

series masterlist || join the taglist

--

“This is a major downgrade,” you sulk while shivering beside a crowded bus stop.

           “Yeah, well,” Noa, your roommate gripes from your right, “at least you got to be royalty once. Quit complaining.”

           “I heard that Kate Middleton is on her third life, and she’s been royalty all three times!” Daeun chimes in from your left. She’s also shivering, clinging to a flimsy umbrella that’s doing a poor job of keeping the three of you safe from the rain.

           “Like what, born into royalty? Or did she manage to marry into it like this lifetime?”

           Daeun and Noa continue chattering away, throwing off multiple theories and speculating about Kate Middleton’s past lives. Of course it’s all guesswork; the details of previous lives are usually meant to be kept secret. However it provides a temporary distraction from the bad weather, which is all you can really ask for right now. Hopefully it will prove enough of a distraction to sway you from your rampant thoughts of last night’s dream.

           “Being born royal isn’t all that fun,” an elderly woman calls out as she ambles up from her seat to catch the approaching bus. It’s not the one you’re taking, that won’t be here for another couple of minutes. “My mistress saw a lot of sorrow in her day, and few remember her now. She deserved to be remembered, in my opinion. I owe her my first life.”

           You tilt your head, squinting a little as the woman gives a wistful sigh. A memory nudges you from the catacombs of your mind.

           “Who was your mistress?” The question falls from your lips before you can catch it.

           The woman blinks, smiling softly. It’s almost as though the mere thought of her past mistress brings her peace. “Iseul, the final daughter of the Goryeo dynasty.”

           The name carries a weight that comes crashing into you, both liberating and binding you to your memories. You’ve heard that name before, albeit centuries ago. And this woman…

           “Ja-young.”

           Two syllables, enormous power. The instant you utter them, the elderly woman gasps and drops her cane in shock. You rush forward, picking it up and placing it gently in her hands with a warm smile. There are tears in Ja-young’s eyes as you look at her, her old face creased with wrinkles and countless stories.

           “My…my lady…” Ja-young attempts to bow, drawing the attention of several onlookers. You grasp her shoulders, stopping her.

           “There’s no need to bow,” you reassure. “I’m just a girl now. I hold no power.”

           Ja-young shakes her head. “No, my lady. I- I owe you my first life! What you did for me-”

           “You would have done the same for me.”

           “Oh, my Lady…” Ja-young’s bottom lip quivers as she clutches your forearm with surprising strength. “My wish has been granted. For so long I’ve been waiting to meet you again. You look just as you did, all those years ago…how did I not see it sooner? So vibrant – you haven’t changed at all.”

           Noa and Daeun remain silent behind you, having experienced this before. It’s not your fault that nearly all your court from your first lifetime as the emperor’s daughter in the Goryeo dynasty have just so happened to be born within the same lifetime. Although, it does become a little odd when you cross paths with a gossipy maid or flirtatious errand boy in the produce aisle of your local grocery store.

           Life is funny that way. You’re on top of the world one moment, and living off of a diet of Mac n Cheese the next.

           “I’m happy to see you like this,” you smile. “You’ve lived a full life, it appears.”

           Ja-young inclines her head. “As I did in my first lifetime, so long ago. My Lady-”

           “I’m afraid that I’m just Hana now,” you gently correct. Despite the fact that you’re living in the 21st century, you still aren’t the most keen on the general public discovering your identity. Not when there’s potential danger still lurking out there.

           “Oh, if that’s the case then I’m Ma-ri now,” Ja-young – now Ma-ri says. “Hana, I’ve been praying for the opportunity to see you again. I’m running out of time now.”

           Time. It once seemed so infinite. And now it’s slipping through your fingertips faster than you can keep up.

           “You’ve made it to your fourth…?”

           Ma-ri nods solemnly. “And final lifetime. But I wanted to tell you, my Lady, that I kept my promise to you. I visited your grave often, I told my children stories of you. However, I wasn’t the only one who frequented the site.”

           You jump as the bus driver lets out a shrill honk, clearly impatient. Ma-ri turns around, waving him on. With a shrug and an eye-roll, the bus driver closes the doors and continues on his way. Now the bus stop is empty save for your party of four.

           “Who else visited me?” You ask, curious now at the gleam in Ma-ri’s eye. She had always been a feisty one, if you remember correctly.

           An invisible shudder runs through Ma-ri’s body as she finally delivers the message she’s waited three lifetimes to deliver. Indeed, she can pass on to the unknown now that she’s finally laid eyes on her mistress once more.

           “Sungho.”

--

           “Kim Taehyung is not a murderer!” Noa defends, crossing her arms protectively as you clench your jaw.

           “No, but Sungho was. And they’re one and the same, aren’t they?” You mirror her, also crossing your arms. “Aren’tthey?”

           Your eyes flicker across the street, toward a billboard that lauds a BTS sponsorship for all to see. However, all you see is Sungho, smiling down at you with those same dark eyes from centuries ago.

           Ma-ri left just a few minutes ago, catching a bus and leaving you with a scribbled address to visit anytime you wanted. You tucked it away safely into the pocket of your jeans before losing your mind.

           “Hana, I don’t think you should be directing your anger at Taehyung,” Daeun quietly interjects, standing just off to the side. “He’s done a lot of good in this life-”

           “You’ll understand when you’re older!” You grind out. Noa winces, but begrudgingly agrees.

           “Yeah…sorry Daeun, but you’re a first-lifer. You’ll understand the next time around. It’s hard to separate people from what they were before.”

           Daeun doesn’t argue, knowing it’s pointless. Living with seasoned lifers, as people who have lived multiple lives have been so lovingly dubbed, doesn’t allow much room for argument. Noa sports two past lives, enjoying her third. And you…

           “Is this really how you wanna live this life?” Noa says, arching a brow. “Angry at some idol philanthropist just because of what happened in your first life? C’mon, Hana. That was three lifetimes ago.”

           “You’re not suggesting that I get over it, are you?”

           “Well…”

           “Nuh-uh,” you take a step back, offended. “No way. Goryeo fell, I died, and he was there to watch everything burn to the ground. And I’m just supposed to let it go all because he’s some adored global icon?”

           “YES!” Both Noa and Daeun shout, sending a few birds flying from a nearby bush.

           You pause to think, staring daggers up at the billboard and Taehyung’s flawless features. Perhaps you would find him beautiful if it weren’t for the past marring your current viewpoint. You stare and stare, mind whirring with the possibilities of all that you could do instead of forgiving.

           “It’s no use sitting here and sulking about the past, not when I can’t do anything about it…” you start, ignoring the relieved expressions on your roommates’ faces.

           “Good, that’s good.”

           “But…”

           “No, back up. You were doing so well!”

           The corners of your lips turn up into an evil grin. “…I have an idea.”

           Daeun groans. “What’s the stupid idea now?”

           You shake your head, stepping forward as the bus rounds the corner. “I’m not telling you.”

           “Why not?”

           “Because you’ll try to stop me.”

           Noa elbows you lightly. “At least tell us what your end goal is here.”

           The bus pulls up, doors opening and a flurry of people pouring out onto the street. In the din and chaos of it all, you turn to your friends.

           “If you can’t beat them…” again, your eyes fall on the billboard, quickly finding Taehyung’s eyes among the rest. “Join ‘em.”

--

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[alternateafterthought]

Arcane

Ø  Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC

Ø  Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader

Ø  Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.

Ø  Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Ø  Warnings: None

Ø  Word Count: 1897

Ø  A/N: Hey guys… this is my first Min Yoongi fic!! After finally finishing my first ever BTS fic, GOLDEN TIME, I started working on this one!! If you haven’t noticed, I really love Hybrid stories and I seem to love writing them just as much!!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! Thank you so much!!

NEXT

Training a house dog was one thing. Walking around parks and seeing them full of dogs playing and learning to sit, come, stay, roll over was something rather cute.

What wasn’t cute was walking past those same parks to see full grown adult hybrids learning the same tricks as dogs. They may have animal genetics, they may have eats and a tail, and some attributes of their animal counterpart. Yet, it gives no proper reasoning as to why hybrids needed to be trained to sit, stay, come, roll over for a treat like they were lesser.

Hybrids might have been part animal, but they were also part human. A small detail lots of humans seemed to miss themselves.

Y/N walked through the park, having slipped away from her overbearing parents 30 minutes ago, loving being by herself. Even though it was loud, children running and playing, their parents running and shouting after them, hybrids playing with children, dogs running around. There was so much noise, so much around her, and yet it was the most at peace Y/N had been in months.

She was never allowed this type of freedom, not since she was a kid, and so she basked in the walk alone. The rays of the sun warming her up as she stood in the middle of the grassy area, head raised to the sun, eyes closed. The light cardigan over the dress she wore in the summer breeze moved as she looked around, happy to be alone, even for a while.

“HEY, I SAID SIT YOU STUPID ANIMAL!”

A rather loud, high pitched shout caused Y/N to open her eyes. Y/N blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the bright light of the sun, only to catch the ending of a tall woman hitting a hybrid.

From where Y/N stood she could make out small golden ears on top of the hybrids head, the same colour of the mop of golden hair on the hybrids head. A long golden tail wrapped around the hybrids own thigh as the hybrid curled in on themselves, their hands moving up to cover their face.

The hybrid was obviously scared, and it was even more obvious that no one was going to help the hybrid. Human and hybrids alike just looked as the woman punished her hybrid for not listening to her before looking away. Y/N noticed some hybrids, the closer ones and younger ones looked at the hybrid sympathetically, but the whole world knew that no one could help the poor hybrid. Like Y/N, all they could do was watch, before turning away herself.

Moving off the grass, Y/N followed the path to the edge of the park, joining the crowded streets of people. Y/N only had so much time to herself before her parents found her again, and that was an argument she could wait for. After all, this was the reason she had convinced her parents of this trip to the city, having planned the whole trip out.

Checking her watch as she moved across the street, Y/N only had 3 more hours before she had to meet her parents back at the hotel. She was already setting something up that would undoubtedly give her parents some type of heart attack, the least she could do was be on time.

Well as on time as a daughter can be in adopting a hybrid without her parents knowing she would.

Following the GPS on her phone, Y/N finally made it to the shelter, quickly opening the door. She was welcomed by a lively room, what was obviously once white walls were now covered in pictures of hundreds of hybrids. Some playing by themselves, some obviously posing for the camera and some with the biggest smile and humans, just having been adopted. The people in the room seemed to be just as lively, smiles and laughter coming from everywhere.

Y/N could tell who worked at the shelter, the purple shirts with the words “HOPE Sanctuary” on the back told her just that. It seemed there was a small family who had just happily adopted a dog hybrid, from the looks of it the young hybrid must have been the same age as the son he currently played with. There was also an elderly couple who had just adopted a cat hybrid, the younger feline standing next to the elder woman who gave the hybrid such a warm grandmotherly smile.

“Excuse me?” A voice spoke from behind Y/N. “Can I help you?”

A young woman stood next to Y/N; the purple shirt she wore matched the purple hair she sported. She was beautiful, the smile on her face was infectious, the soft dimples making her look that much younger. Y/N could tell she enjoyed working here, it was always good to see that there were humans like her that only wanted the best for hybrids.

“Hi yes. I called a few days ago about adopting a hybrid?” Y/N recalled the conversation she had with a very cheerful man.

“Ah yes, the older hybrid, right?” The woman’s eyes seemed to spark something. “If you would just take a seat, I will go get the owner.”

“Oh okay, thank you.” Y/N bowed her head  before moving to sit in one of the chairs.

Sitting on one of the free chairs, Y/N’s phone buzzed, reaching into her handbag to check the screen. She breathed a sigh of relief, thanking every god she could think of it wasn’t her parents. It was just a reminder, a needed reminder, but just a reminder to take her medication.

It was a simple enough task, one she did willingly, taking the small tablets then the water in the bottle she always carried around. She may not like it, she may not like the effects of them, and she may not like how her parents treated her like some child. But at 24 years old, she knew when to argue about something, and when to accept her fate and do as she’s told.

“Hello, Miss Y/L/N?” A familiar voice made Y/N look up as she screwed the lid tightly on her water bottle. “I’m Jung Hoseok, but please, J-Hope is what everyone calls me. I believe we talked on the phone.”

“Yes, Mr. Jung…” Y/N caught his eyebrow raise before laughing a little as she stood, taking the man’s hand in a handshake. “J-Hope.”

“Would you follow me to my office?” J-Hope gestured towards an office door, and with a nod they both moved towards it. “Can I just say, when we got your call that you were interested in one of our older hybrids, I just had to take your case personally.”

“Oh?”

“It’s nothing to be worried about, trust me.” J-Hope smiled widely, letting Y/N know he was excited. “It’s just when it comes to hybrids, people normally go for the younger children or even teens. I worry about the older hybrids, and unfortunately any hybrid over the age of 21 is considered old.”

“Really?” That was news to Y/N, her eyes wide as she took a seat opposite J-Hope.

With a sad nod from J-Hope, he moved some paperwork around, obviously finding the right stack; “So when you said you had interest in older hybrids, I just knew it was a case I had to take.” He finally found the right stack of paper with a small sound of approval. “We currently have 6 older hybrids here and I would love you to meet them all. Though with 2 of them unavailable you will only be meeting 4 of them.”

“What species of hybrids are they?” Y/N sat up straight in her chair, intrigued and happy. “The ones I’ll be meeting at least.”

“Two dog hybrids, a fox hybrid and a cat hybrid.” J-Hope looked up and smiled as he handed over 4 files to Y/N. “These are everything about them, you can read them first or you can meet them first, which ever you choose first.”

Looking down at the 4 files, she quickly flipped through them, a picture on the front of each yellow file. All 4 hybrids were males, first was a golden retriever hybrid, sandy blonde hair, the same colour as his floppy ear. He had a boxy smile, large eyes that shone brightly and he seemed to have been playing in mud as the picture was taken. Mud covered his clothes, parts of his face and hair had muddy stains, he seemed to be having a great time, even in the picture.

The second was a German Sheppard hybrid, large ears stood tall, tan and black, his head was tilted to the side. He looked to have been caught off guard, a book sat on his lap, his mouth opened slightly. He looked tall, even sitting on what looked to be his bed, his large hands looked like they wanted to move up to block the camera from taking his picture. There was a small note on the front of his file “Would be best suited for someone who lives close to the outdoors.”

Third was a very handsome hybrid. Anyone could tell that hybrid or not, he was truly very handsome, his black hair matched his shorter black ears. His eyes bore into the camera it seemed, welcoming anyone who looked at the picture. His smile was almost childlike compared to his eyes, his lips looked so soft and pink and honestly Y/N could stare at them all day. Y/N saw that he was the oldest of the 4 hybrids, and yet he could easily be mistaken for so much younger than his age.

The final file was of the only feline hybrid in the pile. A hand covered most of the view of the hybrid, but from what she could see was a pair of intense eyes. They looked almost black, his hand covered one of them, but still they drew her in, if not making her shiver. His hair was jet black, as were his small ears, in the light of the photo there was almost purple streaks. There was a small note left for him too; “If he is not adopted in the next 6 months, he must be signed up for the breeding program.”

“Um… could I meet them maybe?” Y/N lifted her gaze up from the feline hybrid. “I just… I think I would feel a lot better if I was able to meet them before making a decision.”

“Of course, you can. Would you like to meet them all together, or one at a time?”

“I think it would be better one at a time.” Y/N moved the files to sit on her knees.

“Perfect choice.” J-Hope stood. “Follow me and I’ll take you to a meeting room.”

Soon J-Hope had set Y/N up in a room, large windows that completely illuminated the room, two comfortable looking chairs and a table between them. J-Hope had left to go get the first hybrid as Y/N paced a little around the room. She was scared to meet them, but she was more scared of walking out of the shelter without a hybrid.

It was the one thing in her life that she truly needed right now, she needed independence. A hybrid would give her that. 

NEXT

Tag List

@ariana-winchester95​ | @haven-raven012591​ | @gracehiii​ | @larenelizabeth​ | @legazix​ | @jiminot7​ | @narcissism-iskey​

[flurrys-creativity]

Memories

Pairing: Kim Taehyung (BTS) x Reader; Genre: Fantasy AU, Fluff; Rating: sfw, PG-13; Warnings: mentions of bullying, mentions of memory loss; Wordcount: 996; Event: Winter Hearts from kdiarynet; Prompt: Number 12 - “Looking back at childhood albums together”

Summary: Memories had always been something special for you, since you collected and stored them. Not like normal people though. Normally you kept it as a secret but Taehyung didn’t mind your special gift and encouraged it instead.

Memories could be quite interesting, whether they are sad or happy, bad or good, old or new. Everyone had memories and everyone used different methods to remember them. Some people wrote their memories down, creating a diary in the process; others took pictures and made photo albums.

Though none of these methods guaranteed they would remember them in the long run. Albums turned into a bunch of pictures that wouldn’t spark an emotion inside and the words written in diaries felt like somebody else’s. Sooner or later every memory disappeared from a person’s mind or was altered so much that it was nothing like the moment the memory was created.

Humans created names for the disappearance of memories. They called it oblivion, dementia or trauma. What humans didn’t know though, were the creatures responsible for the disappearance.

Creatures like you. 

Despite the human resemblance you were nothing like them. Instead of food and water you had to “eat” memories to survive. 

Some of your kind lived near retirement homes, visiting the elderly whenever the hunger or need for new memories got too big. Others worked at kindergartens or nurseries, taking a few memories of children and babies. There were even some of your kind that got greedy and would take all memories of a person, leaving them behind helplessly.

You despised them with all your might, trying to be nothing like them. Actually, you were one of the few of your kind that tried to consider the memory before taking it.

Whenever a creature like you touched a human and made eye contact with them, it was as if you were strolling through a library of memories. You could see how often a person remembered it or what kind of memory it was. You could even tell if it was a memory the person wants to be forgotten or not. But humans couldn’t choose which memory they would lose.

When you were younger and still struggled with your powers, you often scared people away. Even though they couldn’t explain what exactly had happened they knew it was your fault and it made them fear you.

Except for one. Taehyung.

The day he found you, crying silently at a playground after some kids called you names and threw sand at you, Taehyung had forgotten he should have been home at six.

He had told you the next day and when you apologised to him, he only laughed and plopped down next to you. Taehyung was the only kid willing to play with you and be near you.

Taehyung was also the only human to know of your kind.

You had told him about it when he had found you curled up on the floor in pain from hunger. Since that day he regularly forced you to look into his eyes, letting you feed on his memory. The only reason why he got labelled as a forgetful kid soon after.

Over the years you learned how to control your powers, mostly because Taehyung had helped you. He was very open minded and supportive. You still felt bad taking his memories, but Taehyung seemed fine with it, telling you that the memories weren’t forgotten. He liked the idea that memories were only transferred and stored at a different place, almost happy to know that nothing ever gets truly forgotten.

You had learned to store the memories you collected properly and you learned how to display them, something very rare for your kind. But you loved to see Taehyung’s boxy grin whenever you pulled out one of his old memories and showed them to him.

The biggest discovery for you though had been the fact that you learned how to give a memory back. This has never been heard off amongst your kind and you were sure nobody ever tried it before or is willing to try it even.

Except for you.

You discovered it when Jimin, one of Taehyung’s friends, had come over and they looked at old albums together, laughing over looks and memories they shared.

“Woah! Look at that photo! Do you remember that day? We had so much fun!” Jimin exclaimed and pointed at a picture.

Both you and Taehyung leaned closer over the album, looking at the picture. Taehyung laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, telling Jimin he had no recollection of that day.

As soon as you heard that, you had closed your eyes rummaging through the stored memories of Taehyung. You easily found it, holding it in your hands figuratively.

“How could you not remember?” Jimin asked incredulously, starting to retell the whole day.

You felt bad for Taehyung, who sat oblivious in front of his friend. He just smiled and nodded, still not knowing what happened on that day.

“You told me about it”, you said and touched his wrist, gaining Taehyung’s attention, “remember?” Both of you locked eyes as you said that word and you felt the memory slip out of your hands, travelling through the connection back to Taehyung.

His eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly, as the memories flooded his mind again. “Ah”, he gasped in surprise.

You quickly let go of his wrist, just as surprised as himself, but you covered it with an expectant smile and glanced towards Jimin, who impatiently waited for Taehyung to say something.

“So?”

Taehyung laughed loudly and showed his signature boxy grin. “Of course I remember”, he said, “how could I ever forget.”

After Jimin had left, both of you talked about it for a long time. The excitement of a new discovery bubbled within both of you.

You never felt as bad about collecting a new memory as you had before since then, knowing you were able to give it back whenever Taehyung might need it.

It was nice to know that his methods to keep memories wouldn’t turn into hollow physical things without any emotion attached to it. You loved the idea to keep his albums alive.

© all rights reserved

[mikrowrites]

tangled with you

Kim Namjoon (RM) x Reader

soulmate au | red string of fate au

summary: Y/N and Namjoon’s red strings were always loose and tangled, indicating their soulmates being far away. But one tour could change everything...

warnings: lil tiny angst, fluffy and wholesome, language

a/n: trying something new...

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Kim Namjoon was an optimist.

He grew to be one after years and years in the idol industry, he found out how to find the bright side of things. No situation was so dire that hope couldn’t be found.

Especially with his soulmate situation.

When Namjoon’s string unfurled at age 18, the slackness and looseness of it always made him frown. Knowing his soulmate was halfway across the world from him was sobering. But Namjoon learned to be positive about it. As a member of BTS, tours brought them all around the world.

He was bound to find his soulmate at some point, right?

Y/N, however, was pessimistic.

She never traveled outside her country, money didn’t grow on trees. Her loose string waving in the breeze was a constant reminder of the bitter odds of meeting her soulmate.

But Y/N coped. She went on a few dates with people with distant soulmates or cut strings, but no one resonated with her.

“Don’t be so over dramatic.” Sarah, Y/N’s roommate, sighed. “You’re soulmates. You would never have been connected if you’d never meet.”

Y/N would fake a smile for Sarah, but she knew that it was no use.

So here she sat on the floor of her bathroom, her pinky extended out before her and a pair of scissors laying on the tile. Y/N stared blankly at the red string, her eyes empty and tired.

If you’ll never meet your soulmate, why have one at all?

Y/N inhaled and exhaled deeply. She had contemplated this decision. Thought of all the outcomes. How her distant soulmate would feel with a frayed string. But whoever Y/N’s soulmate would’ve been, would be happier without her.

She reached out, her shaking fingers gripping the scissors, weighing them in her hand. They felt like the heaviest object in the world, Y/N gripping them so tightly she swore one of the blades were cutting into her palm.

Y/N opened the scissors, pulling them to the tight string.

Wait... the tight string?

Y/N let out a strangled gasp, dropping the scissors onto the floor with a clatter. She stretched her arm out, fingers splayed, as Y/N stared in shock at her once slack string now pulled tight. A tear slipped down her cheek as reality crashed down.

And Y/N was so glad to have been wrong.

Meanwhile Namjoon woke suddenly, his arm being pulled forwards. He looked at his hand in confusion until he saw the thin red string pulled tightly forward.

Namjoon felt a wide smile stretch across his face, reaching over and shaking Hoseok awake next to him. “Hoseok... Hoseok!”

“Namjoon?” Jung Hoseok groaned, blinking several times before sitting up. “Are we landing?”

“My string!” Namjoon cried out gleefully. “My string! It’s not loose! She’s in (your/city)!”

That for sure woke Hoseok up, grinning back at the boy before jumping out of his seat, shouting at the other members the good news.

Namjoon just collapsed back into his seat, the biggest smile on his face as he lifted his hand again. Namjoon thought for a moment before gathering a length of the string and yanking it towards him once.

Y/N fell forwards, feeling as though someone had pulled her. She pushed herself off the tile floor, shaking her head with an amused smirk. Y/N gave her string a big tug in her direction in retaliation.

Namjoon was now the one to fall forward, almost out of his seat, as he began to laugh. He stared down at the string again, before looking out the window at the city.

“Hello, soulmate...”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Y/N couldn’t go to sleep that night, and neither could Namjoon. They both felt as though the string was constantly pulling them to each other, wanting them to meet.

Once Namjoon and his fellow BTS members checked into their hotel, he had a discussion with his management. The next day was meant for leisure and a bit of filming, so Namjoon was excused for the day to try and find his soulmate.

Y/N was up and at ‘em at 8 am, throwing on a floral Y/F/C dress and grabbing her backpack, tying on sneakers and racing down her apartment steps. She stepped out into the bustle of the city, placing her earbuds in her ears as she began to walk towards a local food market downtown, a smile stretching across Y/N’s face at the sight of her string being pulled tighter. She’d look for him tonight, she would.

Namjoon began to walk through the city that morning, a security guard with him. He wore a hat and sunglasses to try and hide from the public the globally famous RM, today he was just a man looking for his soulmate.

However, it was easier said than done.

(your/city) was a big place, intimidating and full of people, and Namjoon was anxious to know which of the thousands was his. He let his red string guide him through the city, past art sculptures Namjoon would’ve normally stopped to admire. Past cafes and businesses, past bustling taxis and buses.

Finally, Namjoon’s string yanked him to the side. He stumbled over, turning to see a small food market bustling with vendors in an open city square. He slowly walked towards it, his senses overloaded with the shouts and colors.

He saw foods he’d never seen before, some that were familiar, and things he grew accustomed to in the US. A smile slowly stretched across his face as his soulmate’s string immersed him into the culture. Namjoon made a point of buying a few things for the members, homebaked cookies for the maknaes, honey for Hoseok as an apology for his abruptness on the plane, strawberries for Yoongi and Seokjin.

Namjoon almost forgot about his soulmate until he felt a familiar tug.

Y/N’s backpack was full of treats and ingredients, by the time she had made her way through the market. She had exchanged friendly banter with many of the vendors, who considered her a usual customer, always by weekly.

Y/N had just finished pulling away from a sweet elderly lady who sold fresh cut flowers, a bouquet of beautifully vibrant tulips in Y/N grasp, when her string pulled her forwards.

She gasped, looking down at her hand as Y/N followed the string to a boy’s pinky several feet away. He was handsome, really handsome, with a stunning smile soft expression. His sunglasses hid his eyes, which had to have been gorgeous as well.

Y/N found herself in awe of him, a smile crossing her face as she wrapped her string around her wrist and gave it a sharp tug. The boy stumbled towards her, looking around anxiously until his eyes fixed upon her.

Namjoon found his breath caught in his throat. His red string led to a smiling girl, with deep (Y/E/C) eyes and (Y/H/C) hair. A floral dress covered her and a bouquet of tulips were grasped in her other hand. He grinned at her, walking forwards.

She jogged a bit to meet him halfway, looking up at him. “I thought I’d never meet you.”

“I did.” Namjoon breathlessly responded. “I did and I’m so glad.”

The girl extended her pinky and smiled wider. “I’m Y/N L/N.”

“My name is Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.” He greeted, linking his pinky finger with hers. Their string suddenly flowed, progressively until it resulted in a beautiful gold color.

Y/N stared at the string in wonder, Namjoon using his pinky latched around hers to pull her forward, the girl looking back up at him. “Can-can I kiss you?”

“Such a gentleman~.” Y/N sang, before pressing her lips to his, Namjoon relaxing into the kiss. It felt like sparks flying from between them, like fireworks lighting up the sky above them.

They pulled away, smiling like lovesick idiots (which they undoubtedly were now) and Y/N pulled off his sunglasses and hat, admiring his deep brown eyes and hazelnut hair. “So, Mr. Kim? What now?” she laughed.

Namjoon interlaced her fingers with his, pulling her away from the market with a smirk.

“We have each other.”

[monggu-eomma]

Don’t Touch That!

Pairing: pinning!Jungkook along with platonic!NamJin

Genre: Hogwarts!AU, crack

Prompt: Don’t touch that!

Word Count: 2.5k words

Prompt: Don’t touch that!

Summary: This is a story in which everyone, including the author, is whipped for Jungkook. Just kidding (not really). Jungkook finds himself in dire need of extra help to study for an upcoming Potions mid-term. The solution to his problem involves him sacrificing his pride, but Namjoon sweeps in to save the day for five seconds. 

Author’s Note: I never cared about a person’s teeth until I saw Jungkook smile. With that being said, I have crawled out of my hole and this scenario is the first of many that will come as a result of my participation in BTS Ghostie Writer’s Net Bingo Bash. This scenario falls under the “Don’t touch that!” prompt. Also, on a completely random note, I have missed writing in third person. I don’t own anything from the world of Harry Potter, but with that being said, this fic can not be modified, re-posted or translated without my permission. Credit for the image belongs to BigHit.

“I don’t think that I’m going to be able to play in next week’s match,” Jungkook said as he laid on a bed and stared up at the ceiling of the Room of Requirements. His heart clenched as the ceiling reminded him of the ceiling of the attic at his home. 

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked as he approached the bed that Jungkook was lying down and sat down by his feet. “The Ravenclaw team isn’t going to play without their seeker.”

“The mid-term for Potions is next Monday and then the match is Wednesday. If I fail this mid-term then I won’t have the grades that I need to play,” Jungkook explained. Namjoon looked back and watched as Jungkook sat up on the bed. His dark wavy hair was disheveled from lying down, but Namjoon was sure that all of the female students, and a considerable amount of male students, at Hogwarts would still find Jungkook attractive. 

“I thought you were doing really good in Potions,” Namjoon said. 

Jungkook fidgeted. “Well I’m doing good, but I’m not doing good enough. I need at least a 90% to be able to play on Wednesday and I know that Snape is going to make this mid-term extra difficult, since we’re playing against Slytherin.” 

Namjoon blinked and tilted his head to the side. He didn’t know that the standard for playing Quidditch was that high. “I’d offer to help, but...” Namjoon said trailing off at the end of his sentence. Jungkook threw his head back and laughed. He knew exactly what Namjoon was talking about. The elder was an absolute liability in Potions and it was a wonder that Namjoon was still allowed to take Potions. 

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure Snape already hates me enough as it is,” Jungkook said after his laughter died down. “I don’t need to give him another reason to like me even less by taking Potions lessons from you, no offense.” Jungkook extended his hand and laid it on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“None taken,” Namjoon replied. He pursed his lips for a moment and pondered over Jungkook’s dilemma. “Why don’t you ask Yoongi to tutor you?” 

“I already asked. He can’t help me because he’s juggling taking the practice exam for NEWTs and duties from being Head Boy,” Jungkook said with a sigh. 

“What about Jimin?” Namjoon asked. “Or Taehyung?”

“Both of them are taking the practice exam for OWLs,” Jungkook said. “And Hobi got an Acceptable in Potions for his OWLs. I need someone who knows what they are doing.” 

“Jin did better than Hobi, he got an Exceeds Expectations. It’s because of him that I managed to barely scrape by in Potions section of the OWLs with an Acceptable. You should ask him,” Namjoon suggested. 

Jungkook’s shoulders sagged and he shook his head. “I can’t ask him.” 

“Why not?” 

“I just can’t.” Namjoon gave Jungkook his infamous that’s-not-a-good-enough-reason look and Jungkook scooted forward on the bed to sit next to Namjoon. “I can’t ask him. Asking Jin for help gives him too much power over me. It’ll give him too much leverage. I can already see what will happen if I ask him.” 

“What do you think is going to happen?”

Jungkook stood up, his Ravenclaw uniform slightly crinkly from lying down, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Ugh. I can see him going like ‘It’s about time you came around asking for my help, kid!’” Jungkook began to say as he placed his hands on hips and mimicked Jin’s ‘old man’ gestures. Namjoon laughed at Jungkook a-little-too-spot-on impression of Jin. “‘It looks like our little golden boy still needs help from time to time. HE HE HE HE.’” Tears fell down Namjoon’s cheeks upon hearing Jungkook’s imitation of Jin’s laughter. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile with his adorable teeth showing as he watched his elder laugh. 

“That was too good, Kookie,” Namjoon said as he wiped away his tears. Jungkook’s smile softened and he looked down at his feet in defeat when reality returned to creep over him. 

“He’s never going to let me live it down if I ask him for help.” 

Namjoon stood up from the bed and smoothed his Gryffindor tie and dress shirt before placing a comforting hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“How about I ask him to help me out with Potions?” Namjoon said. Jungkook looked up, confusion clouding his brown eyes. “I’ll ask Jin if he can tutor me and then you can tag along.” 

“What if he says no?” Jungkook asked with doubt laced in his voice. 

“Don’t worry. He won’t say no.”

“How are you doing to get him to agree to tutor you?”

“Well... How about this? I’ll tell him that since I got an Acceptable in Potions for my OWLs that I’m going to help you out and tutor you in Potions.” 

Jungkook blinked and understood immediately what Namjoon was trying to get at. There was no way that Jin was going to let Namjoon do anything that involved the words ‘help’ and ‘Potions.’

“Jin’s busy with classes today and tomorrow is Friday, right?” Namjoon asked. 

Jungkook took a moment to make sure that the following day was indeed Friday. “Yeah, it is.” 

“Good. I’ll tell him tomorrow and after Jin finishes with his scolding, we can start studying Friday afternoon.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday afternoon arrived within a blink of an eye for Jungkook. Namjoon had told him right after breakfast that Jin would tutor the both of them at the library after their last classes of the day. According to Jin, “There was no time to waste for the school’s walking disaster and the school’s golden boy.” Jungkook, begrudgingly, couldn't agree more. 

Jungkook’s school bag bounced against his hip as he walked to the library. The giggles from a group of Hufflepuffs girls passing by Jungkook as he entered the library went through one ear and out the other. He had one thing in mind and no one person or thing was going to get in his way from achieving success. 

“JUNGKOOK!” Jin whisper-shouted from a bookshelf near the entrance of the library, which earned him a nasty glare from the librarian. Off to a great start, Jungkook thought to himself as he forced a smile towards the librarian in hopes to ease her anger. The elderly lady was immune to his charms and her scowl deepened. Jungkook quickly scurried to the bookshelf that Jin was standing by.  

“Hey, Jin,” Jungkook awkwardly whispered. Jin grinned and patted Jungkook on the shoulder a little too enthusiastically. 

“Come on, kid. Namjoon got us a table in a more intimate part of the library. We don’t need students distracted by my infamous looks while I help you and Namjoon with Potions,” Jin proclaimed. Jungkook suppressed the urge to facepalm, since the act would give Jin the you-are-not-as-handsome-as-you-think vibe, and Jungkook did not want to get another lecture from Jin about “respecting his elders.” 

“Thanks for helping out. I know that you’re busy,” Jungkook said as he and Jin approached the table that Namjoon occupied. 

“I’d much rather help than see the fallout from Namjoon attempting to help you with Potions,” Jin said as he pulled out a chair and sat next to Namjoon. Jungkook sat on the opposite side of the table, in front of Jin. Namjoon laughed at Jin’s remark and along with Jungkook, he pulled out his notebook that was primarily for his Potions class. “So what do you need help with, Jungkook?”

“What about me?!?” Namjoon asked with indignation. Jin glared at Namjoon and turned to face Jungkook.

“Jungkook’s problems with Potions are the easiest to address first,” Jin began to explain as he pulled out an all-too-familiar textbook. “Your issues with Potions require you to start with reading over the basics, again. I need to see how much you’re retained.” 

Namjoon nodded his head and adjusted his glasses. “I’ll just start reading that,” Namjoon awkwardly said, looking at the first year Potions textbook. 

“Start with reviewing how to cure boils,” Jin said as he pulled out his Potions notebook from his fourth year at Hogwarts. It was common knowledge that Jin liked to keep notebooks that contained notes from all of the classes that he had taken at Hogwarts. Those notebooks, and Jin, were among the most coveted things by the students at Hogwarts. “Here we go, antidotes to Potions. This is the core of what you are learning about in Potions, right?” 

“Right,” Jungkook said. 

“Are there any Potions that you’re struggling with?” Jin asked. He skimmed through his notebook to refresh his memory of the Potions that he had learned about. 

“The Ageing Potion,” Jungkook replied. 

“Oh! I know that one!” Namjoon exclaimed. Jin rolled his eyes and playfully smacked Namjoon’s hand. 

“You don’t know anything,” Jin said. “You can’t even brew a Pepperup Potion to cure the common cold.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Namjoon struggled with Potions, but he didn’t realize that his struggle led him to not even be able to brew such an essential potion. 

“I almost did last time! I just forgot to add the Mandrake root!” Namjoon said in reply. Jin huffed and stared pointedly at Namjoon. 

“Speaking of which, although it’s good that you’re trying to do better with Potions, shouldn’t you be studying for the upcoming Transfiguration mid-term that you have next Thursday?” Jin said. 

“How do you know I have a mid-term next Thursday?” Namjoon asked. 

“Hobi was complaining about it since it’s right after the big match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. He wants to watch the match, but McGonagall is testing you guys on human transfiguration.” 

Namjoon gulped and nervously adjusted his glasses. He looked down at the Potions book and contemplated the current use of his time. 

“Hobi said that he was going to be in the Room of Requirements to practice, if you want to join him,” Jin suggested with a shift in his tone. Gone was playful Jin-- he was now replaced with wise Jin. Namjoon looked at Jungkook and grimaced. Jungkook felt bad for the elder. Snape’s tests were notoriously hard, but McGonagall managed to make her tests even harder. Jungkook had heard many sixth years complain about the Transfiguration class and how they were struggling to even understand what McGonagall wanted them to do.  

“You should go study with Hobi,” Jungkook encouraged. He swallowed his pride and sighed before admitting what he wanted to avoid saying in front of Jin. “I’m the one who needs help.” 

Namjoon nodded his head and immediately stood up from his seat. “I’ll go meet up with Hobi. Sorry about this,” Namjoon said as he gestured to the barely read Potions textbook. 

Jin shrugged, unbothered by Namjoon’s sudden need to leave. “No worries. You’ve got more important things to worry about.” Namjoon sighed in relief and hung his school bag on his shoulder. “I’ll save you a seat at dinner.” 

“Thanks!” He said in reply. “I’ll see you guys later.” 

Once Namjoon was no longer within earshot, Jin closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “I know I can give him flack, but Namjoon’s the smartest among us. I’m sure he’ll do just fine on McGonagall’s test.” 

“Yeah. I’m sure he’ll do good too,” Jungkook said as he looked down at his barely legible notes from Potions class. He figured a good place to start with understanding the Ageing Potion better would be to compare his notes with Jin’s old notes and make a detailed guide to understanding and brewing the potion. 

“Why did you ask for help to study for this mid-term, kid?” Jin suddenly asked as Jungkook was furiously writing important notes that either he had neglected to get down or Snape had neglected to talk about in class. Snape had a habit of expecting students to do a lot of learning outside of class, so it was most likely the latter. 

Jungkook looked up from his scribblings, his doe eyes wide in surprise. Jin’s body was leaning against the table, his eyes studying the younger boy. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

“Jungkook, you’re a smart kid,” Jin started to say. Jungkook was in awe. He never thought he’d ever hear those words come out so easily from Jin’s mouth. “Not as smart as me, but still smart.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “But you’re doing well-enough in Potions. You don’t need my help to score high enough to play in the match against Slytherin on Wednesday.” 

“I don’t want to do ‘well-enough,’ I want to do better,” Jungkook said. Jin moved back to let his back rest against the chair as he pondered over Jungkook’s desires and intentions. As he was lost in thought, Jungkook pulled out a folder from his school bag and papers started falling out. 

“Don’t touch that!” Jungkook exclaimed in panic as he saw Jin grab a worn out folded piece of paper that fell out of his messy folder of papers.

“What is this?” Jin asked with a hint of teasing in his tone. 

“Nothing!”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Jin pointedly said as he opened the worn out folded piece of paper. He could tell from the crinkles that this paper had been open and folded countless times. 

A deafening silence hung in the air as Jungkook awaited Jin’s reaction to the contents of the piece of paper. 

“So that’s why you’re studying so hard. It isn’t just so you can play the game,” Jin stated after reading the first few lines of the note. Jungkook expected his tone to be mocking, but instead it was soft. “You like someone.”

A blush crept on Jungkook’s neck and he hung his head low. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled in hopes that Jin would drop the subject. He didn’t want to be humiliated by the elder for having a crush and going to such great lengths to impress someone. 

“It matters if you wrote out your feelings in a note and are going out of your way to study a subject that you already excel in,” Jin said as he folded up the note and gave it back to Jungkook. He looked up at Jin in surprise. Was he really not going to tease him? 

“I--”

“You don’t have to say anything, kid,” Jin said. “And if you don’t want me to, I won’t tell anyone, especially the person that this note is meant for.” 

Jungkook’s tensed shoulders sagged in relief as he stared at his older friend in disbelief. 

“I’m confused.” 

Jin kindly smiled at Jungkook and patted him on the head. Jin understood what Jungkook was trying to do. Getting a high grade on the mid-term wasn’t just for the match, it was to impress the person that Jungkook was crushing on. 

“Don’t worry, kid. I’ll give you a hard time about it later, but for now we’re gonna continue going over these concepts,” Jin said, gesturing at the notes that Jungkook had been taking. “And I’m gonna make sure that you ace the Potions mid-term.” 

Jungkook wanted to ask about Jin’s intentions, but he didn’t want to push away Jin’s help. He would ask Jin about what he was talking about later, after he catches the snitch and wins the match against Slytherin on Wednesday. He wasn’t going to do good, he was going to do great.

[supertweetycherry]

DIE HARD || [ii. Wishful Wishes]

—Pairings: BTS x OC 

—Genre: BTS Mafia Au, Slight Fluff, Angst (a lot of it), Heartbreak, Thriller 

—Ratings: 18+ | MA Content | R 

—Warnings: Blood, Death, Killing, Weapons, Torture, Violence, Abuse, mentions of sex and Alcohol. 

—Summary: She belong to them. They belong to her. It’s simple as that. Period. 

—Word Count: 3.2k 

Navigations -> Masterlist || MASTERPOST <<Prologue || PART 2>>

Chapter 1 - The Wishful Wishes 

                                               10 years later.... 

A young women, in her middle twenties, stood staring at the giant mirror with weary eyes. Her hands twitched as she traced all the scars and bruises she recently acquired during her run-in with her uncle’s family again. She was shaken by the amount of pain and fear running through her veins. There was a reason she chose to live away in a small apartment, rather than the big, lavish mansion that her uncle offered her. She thought she would be safe here... but she wasn’t.

They would never leave her alone. 

A burst of sobs left her mouth as she looked at her reflection in disgust. Her eyes teared at the prospect of what she’s staring at. The women she sees in the mirror, doesn’t resemble the pretty, chubby little girl from ten years ago. Instead, the women she sees now is tall and regal with her long, dark black hair and an hour-glass like figure. The baby fat she used to hold has now washed away, leaving behind a sleek, curvy figure that is mostly hidden from the prying eyes. 

But today, those curves were on full show. 

Only because, the women had yet suffered through another horrible run-in with her uncle Sung Woo’s family. His wife (her Aunty) plus their two evil daughters (her two little cousin sisters) and the eldest son (her oldest cousin brother) had barged into her little apartment with another accusation in their minds. An accusation of stealing their daughter’s rightful place in the company that her dad built. 

Yoona sighed in defeat as she remembered the various profanities thrown at her before her Aunty took the initial steps to ‘beat it’ out of her. The evil elderly women made sure to give Yoona a harsh lesson, calling her an ‘orphan’, ‘street rat’ and a ‘dirty scum’ living on their expenses, before allowing her children to do the same. 

And now, Yoona could barely move.  Her skin was filled with black and blue patches that pained her at every move she made.

“I wish you were here, mum.” She whispered, letting her tears fall through her eyes. 

Things have changed so much since that tragic night. For one, she had no-one left that cared for her. No mother, no father, no sister... and no love. Not even her uncle Sung woo—the man who promised to take care of her, to cherish her, to keep her like his own daughter. 

He did none of that. 

Instead, he turned his back on her the moment they escaped from South Korea. He left her in his evil family’s claws and used her as a puppet from time to time before dropping her off like a rag doll whenever his needs were fulfilled. She tried to detach herself from him and his family, but it’s not that easy as it sounds. 

Right after that tragic night ten years ago, it was discovered that her family was being targeted due to their high status within the nation. Reasons were still unclear but her uncle only explained the basics. Which includes that her identity as Lee Yoona, Daughter of Lee Jong gi and Kim Yuri was dead to the world. She was crushed and killed in a deadly explosion on her 16th birthday party with the rest of her family in tow. Her seven best friends who promised to never leave her side, were also killed in the same fire, leaving their family lines barren and free for anyone to take over. 

It was a tragic headline in the newspapers. But thats what the world believes now. She can’t do anything about it. 

“Shit.” 

Her movements stopped as she felt a sharp stinging over a patch of skin on her ribs. It seemed soft and tender to her, indicating the huge bruise she will be receiving the next day. 

Taking a deep breath, she slowly continued to clean her wounds. With every touch she made, she whimpered at the sting of pain. Her eyes continued to spill the tears every once in a while as her other free hand formed into a tight fist, letting the red ruby dig into her skin. It was a ring she never took off. It helped her with the pain and gave her a purpose to be still alive. 

Looking around for a distraction, her eyes flickered to the old whisky bottle that sat in her cabinet, underneath the sink. The last time she had touched anything alcoholic, she nearly ended up jumping off the roof thinking that she could fly. 

It was a stupid thought but it seemed legit to her at that time. 

“Ughh... fuck this.” She groaned and slithered to the cabinet. With all her aching bruises, it took her some time but she managed to grasp the bottle in her hand and pulled the lid off with a loud pop. 

The raw smell of the alcohol greeted her lungs. She pinched her nose and gulped down an handful of rushed sips through her bursted lips. It burned her insides as she coughed and gagged on the taste. It nearly choked her but she managed to survive. 

“This is for you Oppa.” She muttered to no-one in particular and took some more mouthfuls of the liquid poison. The pain from her injuries subsided and she continued to drink and clean her battered body with the antiseptic. 

It felt like hours before she was done. The pain was still there but she knows she can manage it. She has ten years of abusive experience to prove it.  

With a loud sigh at her predicament, she pulled herself up and draped over an old oversized hoodie that reached up to her knees. It made her feel light and small as she weakly sat down on the floor again. The alcohol made her relax and her vision started to sway a bit. 

Still holding onto the bottle to her chest, her eyes zoomed on the small cupcake, sitting on her coffee table with the world’s most innocent look. Just by staring hard and bringing her face closer to it, she remembered why it was there. 

It was for her birthday. Her 26th birthday. Instead of feeling happy, she felt anger and sadness overtook her. 

It’s been ten years since she lost her family. 

Ten years since she lost the loves of her life. 

And ten years since she refused to celebrate her birthdays. 

Feeling a rush of negative emotions, she brought down her fist on the little piece of sugary food, squashing it into a creamy paste. Pushing it away from her sight, she plopped down onto her bed and gazed up at the chipped ceiling above her. If only she had died that night, then maybe she would have been with them, her parents and her boys. 

Reaching underneath her pillow, she pulled out a crumbled photo.  

The sides were ripped and the quality was bad. It lacked the colours and seemed very faded and old. But to her, this was the only thing she has left of her boys. The only picture that she managed to obtain before everything about her life was erased.  

It was originally taken from one of those old Polaroid cameras that her dead sister gifted to her once. Her Unnie wanted Yoona to preserve her memories. She explained how important it was to have photographic proof of moments that one day might fade away. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, yoona. It’s important for us to find a medium to preserve our most loveable memories. Our brains are not wired to remember every single thing in our life. Sometimes, it needs the photographic proof to recall the moments that are long forgotten.” 

At that age, Yoona didn’t care about those words that much. But now, they were engraved into her soul like ink. She remembered each and every one of them whenever she felt lost. They reminded her of a life long forgotten. A life where she had her family and her lovers by her side. 

“I miss you so much.” She whispered, looking at all her boys. They were piled up together in a sloppy, casual pose as they headed off to their classes. She had taken this photo a year before their death. She was in-charge of the photo booth for the cultural week in her school. And making memories was her job. Since, at that time, the seven pretty boys didn’t like being in the camera, she had taken great measures to snap one while they weren’t looking. It resulted in her being chased around the whole school by them but in the end she was happy at her actions. Because in those moments, she saw them being happy and carefree with themselves. 

It had lightened up her coming days. 

Rubbing at the scratchy surface of the poloriod, she tried to engrave their faces in her heart again. But due to the bad quality, she failed to pick up the whole image. She had to improvise from her memories that she could still access. She wondered, if they were alive, would they still look the same? Probably not. Ten years is a very long time. Heck her own body has developed in ways that completely changed her face. 

As Yoona thought about her past, she was suddnely overwhelmed by a longing sentiment from her childhood days. Her mind went back to the wistful affections she received and let out a sob through her lips. The locked memories rushed past her mind like a burning train. It brought tears and pain into her eyes as the alcohol in her body broke apart the little restraint she has built over the years. The same restraint that preserved her fragile sanity.  

Looking up at the crumbled photo, her fingers traced over each of their faces, trying to remember every aspect about them. Their face, their voice, their laughs, their touches... It continued on until her fingers hovered over the boy with the gummy smile. Out of all of them, his death was one of the most occurring nightmares that haunts her dreams. It repeats over and over in her head like a horror movie set on reply. From gun shots to his body being plunged into the dark lake. It haunted her to no end. 

Then, it was the other boys’s deaths. Their last moments being twisted and turned by her mind into gruesome flashes of images that shakes her body awake every single night. 

The nightmares are both horrible and disgusting, but she could never escape from them. She could only wish to be with her loved ones again. But it’s a wishful wish, that will never come true. 

                                                        **********

Somewhere, on the other side of the world, in South Korea, a man with electric blue hair stood near a window, facing the night sky in thought. A small gummy smile was painted over his lips as he gazed at the early stars that had come out to greet a demon like him. 

The night was one of the coldest nights in the nation. Solid white ice covered the entire city. Everyone was in their homes, enjoying some quiet and peaceful times with their families. 

But for this particular blue-haired demon, the night was special. He was leaning against the window frame, breathing heavily as white puff of smoke filtered out of his mouth due to the intense cold weather. 

His hands reached to the familiar friendship bracelet that stayed tied on his right wrist for the past 10 years of his life. He never took it off. Not even once. But today, some imbecile moron bitch tried to get her hands on his little lifeline. 

And there’s one thing that everyone in the underworld knows, it is to never touch that bracelet. It was a taboo to even think about touching those delicate beads that graced his beautiful pale wrist. 

He was a man who never cared about sentiments, but this little thread of colourful beads was very special to him. Each of his brothers had this on their wrists, designed perfectly to suit their personality. They cherished it so much that it became forbidden to even look at. But yet again, someone did try to go against the unspoken rule. 

“I’m sorry, sir. The other masters will not be able to join you today. They’ve been caught up with some unexpected work.” His bodyguard said with a shaky voice. 

The man scoffed at his brother’s excuses. Of course they wouldn’t be here. Why would they? Those little bastards are too busy hiding in their own places, too scared to face the night head on. They feared the guilt of loosing their most loved one all those years ago. 

He chuckled and turned around to face his bodyguard who still stood with his head bowed deep down in respect and fear.  

“They’re scared, Wook.” He told his guard. “To scared to face her memories again. Bloody losers.” He cursed before shifting his eyes to the small chocolate cake on the tall coffee table. 

A small genuine smile graced his lips as he walked forward and lit the colourful candles on the cake with his lighter. He had personally picked out the candles for tonight, making sure the colours matched with his beaded bracelet. After all, he was her favourite. 

The light from the candles illuminated a small figure, sitting on a chair beside the table. 

It was a women, with the most curvy body shape that anyone could think off. Her hands were bounded behind her, mouth stuffed and taped with duct tape. All her makeup was recklessly wiped off, and her hair pulled and stretched into a lump of tangled mess. And the best part, she was naked. 

Fully and utterly naked from head to toe. Her exposed goods were a pleasant sight for all the boys in the room. She was withering and twisting against her bonds as he gazed at the women with a sadistic glee running through his dark black orbs. 

She was cold. She could feel the chills of the cold weather, penetrating through her naked skin. 

“Hush, little one.” The dangerous man boop the women’s nose as her struggles got louder and louder. She whimpered at his unexpected touch. His voice was laced with innocent sweetness. “It’s okay, baby. I know you want the cake. I’ll make sure to give you a slice before I kill you.” He whispered into the women’s ear, before setting himself next to her. 

He smiled at the lightened cake and proceeded to cut it, singing a song with his beautiful voice.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to my little princess. Happy birthday to you.” He singed, caressing the small picture frame that sat beside the cake. His eyes became glossy with unshed tears as he remembered the good old days with his darling. 

The trapped women beside him, glared at his unusual, weird actions. She was shivering in fright as she was forced to listen to the demon beside her singing such a happy song. It made her more afraid of his unhinged personality. 

His two personal bodyguards also shivered at their boss’s creepy voice singing such a normal, happy, cliche song. Even after serving him for years and watching him do this every year on the same night, they are always freaked out by his sweet persona. It was creepy, and worse than his actual demonic personality. 

“Want some cake?” The demon offered to his guards who shook their heads. “I insist.” The warning was clear in his voice. They gulped and took up the offer. 

Smiling, the man ruffled his electric blue hair and turned to the naked women. Setting himself on her thighs, putting most of his dead weight on her naked body and the chair beneath her, he cupped her gagged face in his hands. 

Slowly but surely, he removed the tape and the stuffed gag which turned out to be her blue panties. As soon as the gag was off, the women sucked in deep breadths of air into her lungs, trying to regulate her breathing. 

“Enjoying baby?” He teased, with a strange glint in his eyes. The girl whimpered. 

“S-suga... p-please let m-me go. I-I’m sorry. I-I’m really—“ 

“Stop...” He cut her off, by thrusting the panties back in her mouth. “You talk too much, baby. I don’t like my dolls talking too much.” He grumbled, shaking his head like a child. In reality, that’s what he is. A crazy, insane spawn of the devil. He’s worse than the actual youngest among his brothers. “Here, have some cake, baby.” 

The young man forced a rather large slice of dark chocolate cake into her mouth. She gagged on it because he hadn’t removed the panties and had thrusted the food deep inside her. 

A wicked smirk graced his lips as he watched the women struggle. He even applied a bit of pressure on her windpipe as a cherry on top. The reaction was instant. The women’s face had turned a bright red. Her struggles had turned more fierce. 

“Do you like it baby?” He mused, running his cold, slender fingers on her bare shoulders, sending cold shivers down her back. The light pressure on her windpipe was still there. “It’s chocolate. Princess’s favourite flavour.” 

“Mmmhhh...” the women tried. She really tried to spit out the gag and the stupid cake in her mouth. But she couldn’t. It was stuffed in too deep, almost blocking off half of her air ways in addition to his thumb. 

“Do you know why I don’t like you, baby?” He continued, ignoring her struggles. He started dropping wet, sloppy kisses on her neck. They slowly reached down to her chest, through her moulds before making their way back up to her neck. “Do you know why you’re in this... predicament?” 

The childishness has vanished from his tone. It was now dark and low. 

“Because you have something that belongs to my Princess only.” 

The venom in his voice was strong and piercing. It mentally shocked the helpless women. All this time, she thought she had just stumbled into a psychopath by accident but his words seemed to indicate that she was sought out. 

“Not to mention, you practically tried to rip off a very important part of me, even though I gave you ample of warnings to keep your curiosity to yourself.” 

The kisses on her became more aggressive. His hands were now squeezing and twisting her big leverage, causing her pain and an unusual sense of pleasure. 

“Joonie tried to stop me.” At this, his voice went back to that child-like whining. “But I couldn’t help myself.” He suddenly bit her neck with his sharp teeth. The women flinched. 

He slowly brought his soft lips closer to her ear shell. 

“I wanted to have some fun.” 

And with that, the cake knife was suddenly slashed across her shoulder blades, drawing out the first blood of the night and the first set of screams that will echo in the quiet, empty house. 

The next day, a new headline was broadcasted on all the channels across the nation. 

‘BANGTAN HAS STRUCK AGAIN!’ 

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