#bts holiday fluff

[jiminrings]

pink sapphire

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. your relationship's perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn't think sometimes — and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

[ angst, arranged marriage au, fluff n really wholesome scenes (it cancels out the angst i swear), Jungkook Tries Hard (affectionate), miscommunication, jealousy, self-deprecation, sexual innuendos (no actual smut here!!), did i already say that jungkook tries rlly hard and is remorseful the whole time ]

notes: my year-ender fic for 2022 :) thank u for being here — i'm grateful for all ur love n support!! i'll see u in the next one <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s a vocal person.

Your husband does not leave a single thought unspoken, sometimes his thinkpieces too impulsive that when he says them in public, you try to play it off by either distancing yourself with him or from him.

“I think the world would be just fine even if all the bees disappear,” Jungkook once said to you with conviction, midway into chewing his cheeseburger. “There’s articles about it proving otherwise but they’re too long for my attention span, but yeah, I don’t think it would be that bad, y’know?” he giggles, looking up at the ceiling in serious thought. “If anything, the Bee Movie taught us that-…” 

Jungkook yelps automatically when you pinch his thigh, your hand sternly gripping his knee like both your reputations depended on it (they really did). “Jungkook, we’re literally in a climate change gala right now.”

“I don’t think coffee’s ever that serious. Seriously, world barista championships? New techniques in supposedly making the best cup of coffee when you’re all just gonna shit it ten minutes later? It’s not that deep,” Jungkook once whispered to you in urgency, his annoyance through the roof. He’s glued to your side, intent on whispering all about his irritation.

“Jungkook, I’m begging you,” you wince, screwing your eyes shut and slowly moving the two of you to the far end of the room. “We were literally right next to your uncle whose new wife is the organizer for that very championship you’re shitting on.”

“We need to talk about the tote bag epidemic,” Jungkook once whisper-yelled to you in a rush, holding you by the arm because he just can’t contain his inner thoughts any longer. You’re thankful, sure, that you’re your husband’s go-to person for all of his random thoughts; it’s just that he picks the worst settings to tell them to you.

“They look kinda tacky, everybody deludes themselves that they’re functional even if they have zero pockets, and-…”

“And you just offended atleast three different age groups and all of them are in this café. We need to leave.”

Jungkook’s endearing this way, raw and a tad bit annoying. He’s expressive as much as he’s vocal, his hand slotted on your waist like second nature to him. Being married to him isn’t bad. Sure, the circumstances of your union in the first place were for business anyway, but the both of you understood and agreed at the end of the day. By all means, he’s ideal — ideal until he opens his mouth when he’s sleeping.

If there’s anything that your two years of marriage (and counting) to Jungkook makes you realize, it’s that you should value your peace and sanity more than anything.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Jungkook groggily asks you with one eye open, conveniently seeing you in the act of hovering around him with an ominous object in your hand. Maybe it’s the sleep in his eyes or the fog in his brain, but when you look at him like this– bothered and passionately frustrated, it makes him love you even more.

“No,” you mutter, the snoring mouth strip in your hands just begging to be put on already. “I’m trying to make you quiet.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Perhaps it’s the sleep in your eyes or the fog in your brain, but you swear you just saw your husband crack a smirk despite keeping you up multiple nights a week, especially for the past month. He’s not endearing tonight, not at all.

“Isn’t marriage all about accepting each other’s flaws?” Jungkook frowns, about to turn on his side when you put your knee to block him.

“We’re arranged,” you deadpan. “I can’t accept you snoring with bass and reverb every night, Jungkook. I can barely sleep.”

“But didn’t you tell me you like it when I make noises?” Jungkook glares playfully. Bringing up your sex life with him out of the blue almost always does the trick, but it probably won’t work tonight now that you’re only awake and breathing heavily from sheer annoyance. “That you adore me whenever I tell you how much I love it?”

“Jungkook,” you hiss, tempted to flick him on the forehead in his sleep repeatedly so he’ll wake up with a mark. “Will you let me put the snoring strip on you or do we divorce?”

“Divorce,” he sighs out, a pinch instantly placed on his thigh that makes him jolt and squeak anyway. Jungkook whines, correcting himself when your hand hovers his chest this time. “Divorcing is bad!”

“Mhmm. Good night, Kook.”

You vibrate just by the prospect of sleeping peacefully tonight without the walls in the house being shaken up by your husband’s snores, tucking yourself in with an exhale that could last for minutes.

“Mmh-hmm!”

Jungkook could only pathetically whine through the mouth strip, resigning to his fate as he just spoons you from behind and huffs.

“What’s that? You want to wear snoring strips every night?” you chuckle, going to sleep with a smile. “What a nice husband.”

( ♡ )

Every now and then, you and Jungkook have to take a refresher course on each other’s businesses. The both of you know a lot already, constant conversations about which meetings happened where and reminders for events that the other will clear up their schedule for.

There’s already the concern and the general knowledge — it’s just all in the technicalities (even the simplest ones) that the two of you are lacking on.

“Is this a mock neck or a crewneck?” Jungkook holds up a shirt that’s yet to be released, eyebrows raised as if waiting for you to mess up. Come to think of it, you have to know now because his family’s holding company had acquired yet another brand and there’ll be a televised event for it — and some reporters ask the stupidest questions to date. You can’t be the weakest link.

“I wanna say neither,” you clear your throat, biting your bottom lip in confusion. It’s a shirt with a collar and that’s the only thing that matters. You know there’s a name for it and there’s a possibility that the choices Jungkook gave you were all bluffs.

Your answer definitely seems to pique both Jungkook’s interest and amusement, resisting the urge to laugh.

“Elaborate.”

“It’s neither of the two. It’s uhm, in the middle?” you tilt your head, only praying that you could bullshit your explanation to your husband, the very person that created the garment. “It’s an all-new neckline created by Jeon Jungkook because that’s what his label is all about.”

Flattering, but really wrong.

“Cool,” he snickers, nodding to himself before he tosses it for you to catch. “It’s a crewneck though.”

“What? Then why did you make me elaborate?” you complain, scoffing to yourself because you know you should’ve went with that answer. Crewnecks should be easy enough to answer but for some reason (read: you stayed up last night watching new-money elitist reality shows instead of studying), you couldn’t answer.

“To see how good you can run away with your answer, duh.”

“And did I run away with it?”

“You ran away with it for like, four meters,” Jungkook commends you, the distance not all that bad in hindsight, atleast until he opens his mouth again. “There’s a hundred meters in total.”

Trivial things like quiz night on each other’s professions remind you that Jungkook’s nice to be with. Banter flows easily and he’s just so charming that so far, you haven’t deeply regretted a single day out of the two years you’ve been married.

You may not be able to name all the different fabrics, silhouettes, and techniques behind Jungkook’s very own streetwear brand, but you know that he likes being held when he’s asleep; that when he taps your thigh groggily after waking up in the middle of the night, it’s him very kindly asking you to rub circles on his back until he falls asleep.

“Okay, my turn!”

Your glass table almost shakes in excitement when you retrieve your sketches, making your husband all the more nervous because you look genuinely excited and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. He doesn’t have the room for error — your family’s jewelry brand turns 100 years old since the opening of its first shop and the event will be widely attended by everyone from all industries. Who’s to say that your eccentric grandfather won��t suddenly host a quizbee all about their craft?

You flash the paper quickly and your husband sighs in relief, grinning in confidence.

“Emerald cut, easy!” 

The confidence is quickly washed out from Jungkook because you snort, putting the paper down.

“It’s an octagon cut.”

“No it’s not,” he immediately retorts in disbelief, squinting at the sketch you’ve set down already.

“I sketched these,” you narrow your eyes. You forgot just how quick Jungkook can keep himself in denial. “Emerald cuts have more depth to them."

He succumbs just as quickly as he turned stubborn though, rolling his eyes with the internal reminder to touch up on his jewelry knowledge because your event comes before his.

“Fine, sue me for thinking your drawings have depth and dynamic to them.”

“You’re buttering me up.”

“Is it working?” Jungkook blinks owlishly, proud of himself when he sees the corner of your lips twitching. He holds his arm out to sling across your waist out of instinct, pleased in pink when you lean into him.

“Barely.”

Jungkook frowns, nosing into your hair with a huff. “Look who’s talking. You made up an all-new neckline by yourself.”

“Shh,” you hum. “Let me get away with it.”

These moments of domesticity are what remind you that Jungkook’s never been less than ideal for you. That despite being in the same social circle as kids and only starting off as friends, you weren’t hesitant when both your grandparents suggested the idea of getting the two of you married.

In trivial and domestic moments like these, you think that you would’ve wanted to marry Jungkook even if you weren’t arranged.

“I let you get away with a lot of things,” he playfully huffs, resting his chin on your shoulder intentionally heavy to get you to cave deeper into his embrace.

“Because I barely wrong you!” you reason, rolling your eyes because you know for a fact that although you’re not a perfect wife, you’re beyond ideal.

“I know,” Jungkook rolls his eyes this time, the truth undeniable. You’re right; you’re so perfect for him that sometimes, he thinks he doesn’t deserve you.  “How about me? Will you let me get away with a lot of things?”

“I already have,” you sing-song, narrowing your eyes playfully as if in deep warning. “But I won’t always do.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook first realized that you loved him when he missed a single step on the staircase and tumbled a whole flight.

It was 3 AM then, the reason behind his sudden trip downstairs being the fever you developed overnight when you had just gotten home from a ski trip. He had put a wet towel in the freezer in the afternoon and he was supposed to put it on you before you went to sleep. Jungkook must’ve beat himself up for forgetting because he wakes up with a cold sweat, determined to put that frozen towel on you like his life depended on it.

Jungkook thought he was doing well by the way he could navigate clearly even with the sleep in his system, eyes still half-lidded and brain still half-working that he decides to rip out the largest yawn to man mid-step on the staircase — before he knows it, he’s woken up immediately to the bottom of it.

“Jungkook!” you yelled to him then in a panic, eyes wide and frantic to see him at the bottom of the stairs with a sheepish smile. Jungkook knew then that seeing you with a head-splitting migraine visible on your pale lips and fatigued eyes, scooping him up on your arms with nothing but scolding and fussing on rotation — he knew that you loved him more than you let on.

You know Jungkook loves you. So when the bed dips and your arms grow cold despite swearing up and down that the both of you have a free day today, you doubt for a second.

“What are you doing up so early?” you mutter, stifling a yawn to see Jungkook up without a complaint.

“Breakfast with my parents. My crazy aunt suddenly came over and they need backup,” Jungkook answers with a pained laugh, cussing himself for being such a filial son. “Don’t worry, I know you hate her plus you were up all night yesterday so I just told them you can’t come because you’re under the weather.”

You’re put at ease to hear him, sighing a breath of relief — good, Jungkook still loves you and doesn’t plan to leave you. It’s just an inkling you’ve had the last few weeks, the daunting realization that in a couple months’ time, it’ll be three years of marriage with him.

It’s the impulsive, less rational part of your brain that thinks Jungkook’s growing bored of you, confused of how he’s been perfectly content being your husband for almost three whole years. 

You go with Jungkook all the way through downstairs, your playful teasing towards him about never yawning again on the steps giving him more amusement (and embarrassment) than necessary.

“Kook?” you question with a furrow in your brow, pointing at the dish that’s occupied still. “You forgot the car keys.”

“Oh. I’m not taking the car,” he smiles, shrugging to emphasize the jacket that he intentionally wore. You missed the detail somehow, the surprise in your voice more evident.

“You’re taking your motorbike?”

“Mhmm!” Jungkook hums pleasantly, the background music in his brain going from calm elevator music to rising bass rift. He’s just about to bid you goodbye with a kiss after he wears his gloves but he’s stopped even before he could come near. You’ve already read his mind.

Your husband knows it when you put your arms across your chest, nodding towards the cabinet with a tone that leaves no room for counterarguments.

“Go wear your full gear.”

“But the breakfast place isn’t even that far,” Jungkook whines, head tilting back. His gear was literally hot, protecting him from sunlight yet physically making him boil inside. 

“I want you in one piece.”

“You want me?” Jungkook cheekily grins, eyebrows wagging incessantly with his arms outstretched. That’s it! If he could just act cuter and be a little more-

“Go wear your gear.”

“I look goofy,” he mutters, eyes downcast. The longer he goes without blinking, the faster he knows that he’s going to stick to your words.

“You look safe,” you smile in success when you put his helmet on, securing it extra tightly that draws a whine from him.

Jungkook frowns but he knows that you’re right as always, a relieved sigh coursing throughout his whole body because who knew where he’d end up without you.

“Ride safe, Jungkook. I mean it. Don’t pull any tricks,” you glare pointedly at him, recounting all of the near misses he had from wanting to be adventurous, be it a trip downstairs to the refrigerator or in the middle of a main thoroughfare.

“I promise not to pull a wheelie on the highway, yes,” Jungkook mockingly salutes you, drawing out a faux disappointed sigh from you.

“You’re forgetting something.”

Was he really? Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion, smacking his lips when he seems to get the gist of it. He walks towards you, puckering his lips to the max because he doesn’t want to headbutt you with a solid helmet for just a smooch, landing a gentle kiss on your cheek. 

You appreciate it, but Jungkook’s not quite right.

“No, not that.”

“What?” he seems taken aback, suddenly realizing. “Oh!” he giggles, raising up his right hand in a pledge. “I promise to text you when I get there.”

“Good.”

You have to put more strength to drag Jungkook by the helmet, angling your head to the side to kiss so he doesn’t knock you in the forehead with the extremely safe (and extremely bulky) helmet you got him.

Jungkook smiles in contentment, clearing his throat as he revs his engine. It’s all good then. He had become worried in silence because your three years of marriage were approaching and got scared because what if you grew bored of him already?

Jungkook worries that he’ll mess things up with you one day, but with the way he can see you waving at him frantically on his side mirror when he just left, it’s okay. 

He knows you still love him.

( ♡ )

Hoseok’s your most talented and trusted metalsmith.

His work ethic’s unparalleled, your vision only coming into fruition through his support and skill. He’s indispensable to you, your place in the direction of your family’s business cemented by Hoseok’s aid.

Hoseok as both an artist and your employee is different from Hoseok as your friend. Both are cunning but the latter is more ruthless, the lines being blurred every now and then. He loves his job, don’t get him twisted at all — in fact, he trusts you as a boss and the company beyond comprehension that he doesn’t bear any tact for anyone who threatens either.

Not even for Jungkook.

“A collab, huh?” Hoseok squints, looking through the portfolio you’ve handed him. There’s already projected numbers that your analysts have predicted for you but he pays the papers no mind. He clicks his tongue, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. “A streetwear brand wants a limited-edition collection with us?”

Jungkook clears his throat, timidly raising his hand. He’s always known that Hoseok’s standoffish to literally everyone except you, but what he can’t take is being talked about like he isn’t in the same room.

“Uhm, I’m Y/N’s husband.”

“Well you’re the owner of that streetwear brand, aren’t you?” Hoseok raises a brow at him, tilting his head. He looks drastically bored, his tongue poking his cheek.

Jungkook blinks, not exactly knowing where this was going but he doesn’t like it one bit. “Yes, but I’m also her husband.”

“Okay?” Hoseok tilts his head, eyes already exhausted from the conversation. You know that look on him, the one that tells you he’s bored to death and is itching to shut up the nearest person to him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jungkook rarely gets flustered by anyone else besides you and this time, it’s the bad kind. The embarrassment he gets from just conversing with Hoseok makes him feel like he’s an inconvenience, unease settling into his stomach. Jungkook wishes he couldn’t be so perceptive to know that despite Hoseok’s eyes normally being unreadable, his gaze now on his sketches can be read as underwhelmed.

“Well I-I mean, I’m hearing a lot of us and it sounds like you and Y/N, not me and Y/N,” he licks his lips, recognizing the insecurity that sticks to his tone like honey. Not only does he feel insulted as an artist, he also feels insufficient as a husband.

“That is what I’m saying though,” Hoseok trails off, hand vaguely gesturing for Jungkook to fill in the rest of the blanks. When he doesn’t, Hoseok does it for him. “It’s me and Y/N seeing this brand through. Not you and her.”

Jungkook blinks once, twice.

Hoseok isn’t wrong. No matter how much pain it brings Jungkook to admit it, Hoseok isn’t wrong. Your marriage may be for you and him alone, but your company– your artistry is only yours as much as it’s Hoseok’s. He has no place here and he feels it, his initial confidence that the collaboration he proposed was going to pass already dwindling by the millisecond.

“Hoseok’s right,” you cough, breaking their conversation. The tension was already too thick and you’ve barely made it halfway to looking at the entirety of the portfolio. “Reel it in, Jungkook.”

He’s jealous. He’s jealous and he forgot just how pathetic and insufficient one could feel when the green monster of heartburn decides to make an appearance. Jungkook just about doubts everything, from thinking of how your admiration for Hoseok is probably much higher than the admiration you have for him, to thinking if you even benefit from being arranged to him.

Hoseok looks over the designs, noting all the details silently.

“Huh. I see,” he hums, clearing his throat to try and keep all the crass words he has in mind to himself because you’re looking at him intently. “Skulls. Haven’t seen this one before.”

“You sketched this?” Hoseok nods every now and then, holding up the paper that had deep indents of the pencil on the paper to the point that it defeats the concept of a sketch. Your husband nods, and he wishes he hadn’t because Hoseok comments not a second later. “Figures.”

He hums, silently approving here and there of some concepts he could totally get behind. It’s not all rubbish content, but he can’t say that salvageable automatically equates to commendable.

“So? What do you think, Hobi?” you ask when the silence has gone long enough, having noticed that Jungkook already grew too quiet in your corner.

Hoseok calculates in his brain, looking from the portfolio and back to you. He tries not to clench his jaw for the sake of you silently pleading him to mince his words and actions, clasping his hands together.

“Yeah, it’s doable,” he nods, making Jungkook smile despite his ego being a little wounded. He’s bounced back miraculously, profusely thanking Hoseok with an unexplained eagerness to him. Before Jungkook could launch himself to further possibilities though, Hoseok calls for you.

“Y/N? A word, please?”

Jungkook looks back from the door, hesitant doe eyes flitting between the two of you. You don’t know exactly what’s going through his mind but you know better than to project, bidding him goodbye for the timebeing. “It’ll be quick.”

The most commendable trait you can attribute to Hoseok besides being your friend is his passion for your craft. He’s vision-oriented in the sense that he cuts straight to the chase before he could even lose the trail that the sudden burst of fervor leaves him.

“Meridian’s your baby. It’s your grandmother’s grandmother’s baby. It’s coveted. It has meaning,” Hoseok rambles, the sigh leaving him more concerned than it was relieved at being let out. He can’t mince his words now — he can’t put it in any other way besides the truth. “Collaborating with Jungkook cheapens it.”

“Hoseok.”

Your tone edges on a bite, clenching your jaw as you try to take everything in. Hoseok’s been your voice of reason for so long but you don’t know how to accept that voice now, the tinge of guilt slowly staining you because the back of your mind tells you that he isn’t wrong.

Jungkook’s streetwear brand is huge; whether or not you chalk it up to his name being linked to his family’s holding company that’s responsible for other designer brands, your husband’s brand specifically remains larger than life. It’s not a flawless brand, that much you’re sure of, but it’s still of great value.

Just perhaps not of the same degree that Hoseok holds your company to.

“It’s not all bad, but most of his work is dispassionate. It’s typical. Meridian would look cheap if you commit to this fever dream collaboration.”

There’s a rash on your neck, one that’s warm and speaks to your ear of how shitty it must feel to even agree partially to what Hoseok’s saying. Your duties as an artist in the business rarely clash with your courtesies as Jungkook’s wife — today just happens to be one of those days.

“It’s Jungkook’s idea, okay?” you relent, voice low as if in defeat of admission. You don’t mean to belittle him, you just happen to know and listen to reason. “It’s not the best, I know, but it’s honest work. Let’s give him a chance.”

“You’re giving him a chance because he’s your husband, not because you see any potential.”

Hoseok says it without uttering nor a single sense of doubt. He sounds so definite that you don’t even know if he’s still insulting Jungkook or if he’s insulting you at this point, swallowing your words.

There’s truth to your craft but you know there’s an even bigger truth to the unspoken protectiveness you have over Jungkook, the answer sounding seemingly shallow but that’s what it really is — love makes you shallow as much as it makes you deep.

“You’ll know when you’re married.”

“Arranged would be the term for you and Jungkook. Not married,” Hoseok quips. “You’re only holding back your critique. We both know it’s a dead end when it comes to creative direction.”

The both of you leave it at that, the decision being unanimous to collaborate with Jungkook despite your metalsmith’s hesitance. What you say goes, that’s just how hierarchy works. 

Unbeknownst to you and Hoseok though, Jungkook’s been listening the whole time — that’s just how love operates sometimes; hidden and relinquished.

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s hurt.

How crude of Hoseok to think of him that way. How worse of you to agree even.

Jungkook’s irrational when he’s hurt, refusing to see reason. He knows at the back of his head that he’s hit a rut and pitching in a collaboration with your brand is his last-ditch attempt in sparking something. Cheap was a word for tackiness and to have your friend use it on him brings him to a new low.

It’s just jewelry. What you make is just jewelry. Just pieces of metal bended and soldered together with shiny gems that don’t possess any real meaning to them besides superficial.

It’s not that deep.

Not that deep to the point that when Hyejoo, his childhood friend turned actress turned fleeting appearance in his life every now and then (whom you hate for some reason), asks him for a favor — Jungkook barely hesitates.

Hyejoo stands before him in a shirt from his brand’s limited collection, one out of the only hundred ever made. If Jungkook recalls correctly, he didn’t even send any items from the limited collection to any of his friends; he left everyone besides you to go fend for themselves.

Perhaps his childhood friend’s truly a fan of his craft, knowing her for her utmost support towards all his releases. To be honest, the two of them aren’t even that close anymore to the point that they’re each other’s first friend to think of in dire circumstances, except now — now when she needs him for a favor.

“But I need a pink ring for the event, Jungkook!” Hyejoo whines, throwing her head back for dramatic effect. Truth be told, she knew no brand that had pink jewelry that was elegant enough for her taste except yours. She’s turned down sponsorships all for a ring you probably keep in your sock drawer. “Yes I can buy from other brands but you’re there, Kook. You’re available and I can borrow from you because your wife has a shit ton.”

Jungkook knows what Hyejoo’s talking about. It’s the one pink ring that you wore on your engagement party with him and it’s become the talk of everyone from how ethereal you looked, the one tiny piece of jewelry tying it all together.

He knows it’s pink and he knows it’s just hidden away in its jewelry box, one that you keep right next to his collection of watches. There was no fancy vault for it either, just tucked next to his timepieces as if they were of the same value.

“Come on, she won’t even notice,” Hyejoo urges him, making him inwardly cringe. She turned up on his front door unannounced asking for a favor and he feels indebted her for the last time she granted him one, the apartment complex that Hyejoo owned becoming the perfect backdrop to his collection that’s still renowned to this day.

Jungkook’s loyal, he knows he is. His loyalties lie with you and he still honors his debt — whether or not you’re caught in the middle. It’s true that you won’t even notice, you don’t even peek at it anyway! For someone who’s a part of a family of jewelers, you rarely accessorize yourself gaudily.

“Fine. I’ll let you borrow,” Jungkook mutters, finally relenting to Hyejoo’s requests. He opens the door wider, on the way to your shared bedroom but looks back hastily at Hyejoo to point a stern finger. “But give it back, okay?”

It takes a great amount of strength for Jungkook to even hand the ring to Hyejoo, not even including the box with her because a) you would know that it was missing, and b) he wants her to wear it at all times until she gives it back the next day. Jungkook takes it personally to flick her wrist to serve as a reminder that he had given it to her already, even going so far to take a picture of the two of them and make her sign on his notes app.

He’s not necessarily betraying you — or so he thinks. It was just jewelry that you wouldn’t miss, same as the shirts that he gives away to his friends. Their retail prices may be lightyears away but you would understand; you always do.

Jungkook gaslights himself into thinking that he did no wrong but the guilt is what slowly gnaws on him, the tips of his fingers going numb every time he looks at you. 

Come to think of it, his decision to lend your ring to Hyejoo was out of sheer pettiness even without the assurance that you’ll take notice of it. His hurt over Hoseok’s comment disappeared the moment he handed her your ring, but to his surprise, it’s anxiousness that replaces his irritation.

He kisses you good night still as if today didn’t happen; how his irrationality had gotten the best of him when he got hurt by Hoseok’s remarks over his passion and creativity, and just a few hours later, it’s his impulsiveness and misplaced urge for vindication that lent your unsuspecting ring to his childhood friend.

“Jungkook!” you yell out in panic, urging him awake instantly that his heart beats incessantly despite being pulled out of sleep. You look frantic, the rawness in your eyes not from your lack of sleep, but instead from tears. “Call 911. The Interpol! The CIA! The fucking Blue House!”

“What?! What happened?!”

He’s panicked just as you are, hands shakily clutching his phone. He looks you up and down and inspects you for injuries to which there are none, nothing but overwhelm making your body shake.

Jungkook can’t bear to see you so glum and helpless, your bottom lip trembling as you look at him feeling nothing but pathetic.

“My ring,” you whisper brokenly, the phantom feeling of wearing it making you sob even more. “My ring is gone.”

Jungkook’s mouth dries, the panic in his own body turning against himself, his remorse growing into something larger than life. He could physically see the confusion on your face on the way he paled, his phone dropping out of his hold.

Your husband’s hands reach for you but you don’t take them, recoiling even before he could open his mouth. Jungkook was readable — too readable to the point that you wish he had lied to your face instead.

“I-I can explain.”

Jungkook weakens by the knees when the words drape from the tip of his tongue, your chest sucking in an inhale so sharp that he gets weakened by the force of it. “I lent it to Hyejoo.”

You’re quiet, the type of rage in you simmering ever so slowly that it builds to an immense heat. You don’t know if you can ever muster to look at Jungkook in the eye, your middle finger that knows the grooves of your ring twitching in muscle memory.

“You what?” you croak, tilting your head. You know what you’ve heard but you just wish you’re mistaken this time, cursing your own accuracy. “Who told you that you could do that?” 

Jungkook’s cornered in his mind and he spews the first thing in his mind, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Yours is mine and mine is-…”

“That doesn’t apply here! You’re so fucking-…” you just about burst in the seams, clenching your jaw so hard to the point that you give yourself a headache. You’re resolute this way, the pitiful look on your husband’s face not getting a single drop of remorse from you. “Get it back.”

You wouldn’t have lent it to anyone regardless if Jungkook asked you, but you would have considered at the very least. For him to take something so special to you and loan it to someone you’re not even fond of ticks a wire in your brain, your anger coming before the sadness fully hits.

“Y/N!” he hisses, angry at both the situation and himself but he now thinks of the courtesy that he didn’t possess when Hyejoo borrowed your ring. “I can’t turn back on my word.”

“What? Your word that favors Hyejoo and shits on mine?” you scoff in disbelief, laughing at the mockery Jungkook makes of you. It’s insulting and saddening and you can’t even begin to think of the extensive cleaning and safekeeping you’ll have to do once you get your ring back. “I said, get it back. You’re my husband and you’re just her friend, you have all the means to take my ring back.”

Jungkook turns somber, a stark contrast to your anger. He pleads with you, finally closing the gap between you to which you roll your eyes.

“The event is tonight. She’ll return it tomorrow. Please, it’ll be embarrassing.”

“For you or for her?” you ask but the rage in your voice is already simmering, the daunting thoughts of how Jungkook thinks of his friend’s sake and himself first than his wife making you clench your fists around nothing.

“Y/N, please.”

His incessant begging does little to influence your decision because you’ve already changed your mind, the rage that dipped in you and the fact that your heart’s already aching despite having just woken up converting you instead.

“Tomorrow morning. I want it back in the case before I wake up.”

The two of you sleep apart for the night and Jungkook can’t even bring himself to contest it knowing that he doesn’t deserve to hold you. He simmers in self-loathing, unable to sleep the night when his phone dings from the notifications it has of your name.

Hyejoo’s look on the carpet trends the whole night, the main focus of everyone being the pink ring that adorns her ring finger. There’s threads of speculations how you and her are either best friends or how she must’ve bought it from you. If only he could, Jungkook would reply to each comment saying that Hyejoo doesn’t hold a candle to your elegance and how the ring has always been yours — that it’s his fault that his friend’s even wearing the same piece.

He’s restless and he can’t even begin to think how much more tired you feel. Of your name being brought up and of him royally fucking up. 

When Jungkook thinks it couldn’t be worse, karma one-ups him from the very mistake he committed when he entertained Hyejoo’s favor in his mind.

“You’re stupid,” you spit to Hyejoo who stands on your porch, head downturned in shame. She had half the decency to face you personally but lacks the rest to honor her end of the bargain; she lacks the intellect to respect you.

She lost the ring. She lost the pink ring you’ve treasured and cared for since you were a teenager, losing it after a careless and drunk decision of skinny dipping. You feel like you’ve been made a fool not only by your husband, but also by his friend that you don’t care for at all.

The tears fall out of your eyes in anger, each one being in a rush to exit because you’re full of resentment at this point.

“You’re a brainless, stupid, careless fucking idiot. I don’t want to see you in my household again,” you point at her, making her step back.

“This is Jungkook’s-…” she squeaks, just about to correct you when you point at her even more menacingly. You’re not even joking around as it seems like, eyes angry to the point that they lack of love, even for Jungkook who tries to hold you back.

“I’ll get a restraining order on you.”

Hyejoo scurries out all with the promise to reimburse you (as if she has the money to do so) that falls on deaf ears, your hand slamming the door too hard that your husband swears the walls shook with your force.

You look unrecognizable with the sheer disappointment you have for him, your anger dripping off of you thickly that he’s rendered speechless.

“You,” you seethe. “I fucking hate you.”

You never told him that before.

You’ve gotten mad at him on several occasions but never to this degree where you tell him that you loathe him. This is the furthest that you’ve took it, the honesty behind your words making his bottom lip tremble.

Jungkook’s eyes have been perpetually moist since last night but it’s only now that his eyes sting with white hot sadness. You’re only reacting out of your state of overwhelm; you must be, right?

“I hate you so, so much, Jungkook.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I really mean that,” you scoff to his face, shaking your head in absoluteness. “What would you do if I sold your car, huh?”

Jungkook wants to apologize to you so bad but he doesn’t have the right words to give you the proper one that you deserve. He gives you an answer off the top of his head, the disappointment for himself growing if he does otherwise.

“It’s just a car.”

“Well this is just not a fucking ring to me! It’s not simple like that!” you burst, your movements jerky.

“I’ll buy you a new ring,” he whispers, wanting to tug at his hair for being so stupid. He should’ve considered the possibility that Hyejoo has a knack for being careless; he failed to account that he went behind your back to lend your ring to someone else in the first place.

“I can buy my own rings!” you exclaim. “What you don’t get is that this means the world to me! If your uncle gave you a car, and I gave it to someone else and now it’s on the bottom of the ocean, what would you feel?”

“It’s just a car from my uncle. I can replace it. I can buy a better one.”

Jungkook knows he’s just making excuses. He’s just being defensive now that he’s cornered and has no excuse for behaving so poorly. He can’t escape the anger and the disappoint he’s flooded with, not when you cry out of sheer distress.

“Not if my aunt isn’t here! Not if this ring is one of the only things I have of her!”

Sure, your aunt was dodgy. She’s the black sheep of your family and had done more than a lot of questionable things, but she cared for you. She had given you her own ring when you were twelve and whilst it was too big for you to wear, she gave you a chain for you to wear it around your neck.

The ring is something you can easily replicate but the thought behind it is what you can’t take back. It’s not the only piece of her that you have but it’s one of the earliest things you obtained; one of the most notable pieces out of the bunch.

“You don’t think. You don’t care. You don’t love.” 

For Jungkook to carelessly seize it from you and loan it to someone else grips your heart like a vice. You’re gonna dwell on it for more than a couple of days and realize that you have more sentimental and elegant things you have of your aunt eventually — but what matters to you is how you feel now. How Jungkook had disappointed you so bad, you feel like throwing up.

“I want to divorce you,” you seethe, meaning your words at the heat of the moment. Jungkook stands frozen, hearing his own heartbeat thrum in his ears. “I can find a new husband. What I can’t find — what neither you nor Hyejoo can’t find is my ring.”

( ♡ )

You do it while he’s sleeping.

You take advantage of Jungkook’s fatigue and disorientation from crying his eyes out, passed out in the couch while he hugs himself with his arms to try and replicate your embrace. It’s already morning and it only looks like he slept just minutes ago, positively dozed off.

You take much care in slipping of the platinum wedding ring from his finger, joining your discarded one in your palm. There’s only carelessness when you scoop them into a tiny drawstring bag, taking it to Hoseok and doing a regular work day as if your head hadn’t pounded with hurt just last night.

It’s only convenient for the both of you; Jungkook’s decision slingshots back to him, and your client would be happy. Hoseok texted you last night asking if he should grant the request of a high-profile client with a titanium pendant, and it just so happens that you have two chunks of it that you no longer need. It could be melted and repurposed — after all, it’s just jewelry according to Jungkook.

The guilt of your impulsiveness doesn’t hit you instantly, it only comes with confusion when you see your husband in shambles.

When you come home, the whole house is upturned. Jungkook’s frantic, waking up to a hand that bears no wedding ring; no proof of you. His eyes glaze with relief briefly when he sees you, urging you to take in the situation fully.

“The police. The CIA! Interpol! MI6 — or is it MI7? Fuck, Mr. Bean’s movie was too good! Get the Blue House on the line!” he blubbers, looking back and forth the cushions of the couch and his hand. “My wedding ring!”

It’s perhaps a ballsy move made on your part, but you can’t guilt yourself into bearing the blame. You made your wedding rings and it only makes sense for you to get rid of them. The bands are symbolic, made and upheld with love for the last two years but in your haste of upset, you’ve given them away.

You perhaps regret it slightly, the fog in your brain lifting but only faintly. You’re still mad and disappointed at Jungkook, and perhaps you don’t mean the bit of divorcing him, but you do mean wholeheartedly the sentimentality you have behind all your jewelry.

The platinum in your ring finger just felt too heavy last night that you grew weary of it, not thinking twice when you removed yours and Jungkook’s. Even if the two of you make up and you don’t end up divorcing Jungkook, you wouldn’t want to wear the same ring that brought you the same pain during its stint.

“I sold them,” you answer, turning your back on him before you could see the anguish in his face. “We have no need for them.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s making you a rice bowl as an apology.

Buttered fried rice, egg, bacon, and all with a generous amount of cheese. It’s his hangover food when he needs something greasy and filling but the only difference from his past hangovers and your anger at him is the latter barely feels like it could be rectified.

He says his apologies again through the door and he’ll happily repeat it to your face if you stand longer in front of him for more than a minute, his panic even larger than the oil splashes he’s gotten from making your bacon eagerly.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It was stupid of me to lend your ring to Hyejoo behind your back and I swear I won’t do it again. I know that ring meant a lot to you and I-I was so pathetic by invalidating that,” he mutters through the door, looking at the frying pan every now and then to make sure he wasn’t burning anything. “I have every intention of finding your ring and making it up to you, cross my heart!”

It feels insulting, even. For him to think that he could change the ache of your heart with a simple hot meal. Jungkook realizes that he really is dense when you don’t answer the door for the twenty minutes that he knocks. When you do open up, he feels even more dumb.

Just twenty minutes ago, he wired you twice the amount of the worth you estimated your aunt’s ring to be. Combined with the pitiful amount Hyejoo wires you, it’s then do you realize that you’re not fazed by money. The initiative is there, sure, but the ache in your heart hasn’t subsided completely.

You do miss Jungkook. It does tug at your heartstrings to see and hear him beat himself up over and over again the more you realize that you’re attached to your aunt’s memories rather than the ring itself, but just two nights away from each other won’t absolve everything he’s done and failed to do.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by the sight of your husband who tries far too hard for his own good. Melancholy isn’t a good look on him because he looks the most unkempt he’s ever appeared in two days than the two years you’ve been living with him under the same roof.

Jungkook waits for you to register his attempt, holding up a hot bowl with his bare hands that you resist the urge to take it from him for a second. His ring finger’s occupied by a cheap mood ring, rapidly turning red at the moment from the heat of the bowl.

You look down fully expecting to be swayed even just a little bit, but when you do, you feel the kick to just slam the door right back.

“I hate runny eggs,” you scowl. “Two years married and you don’t even know how I like my eggs cooked.”

Jungkook wants the ground to swallow him whole. 

He wishes that if it was true that chickens are the last true descendants of dinosaurs, there’d be a chicken the same size as them that pecks him into oblivion.

He hurriedly turns on the stove and scoops up the egg back into it, careful not to have any of the runny folk get on your meal. He itches in frustration, his ring finger that’s temporarily adorned with a cheap and clunky mood ring being accurate by turning blue in sadness.

Jungkook’s so out of it, so disappointed in himself that he doesn’t notice he cooks the egg until it’s burnt, the char of it reflecting how poorly he thinks of himself now.

It’s like when you were disappointed in him that time when his outlandish aunt made a rude comment about you and you were speechless the whole night that he stayed silent. He remedied it by later groveling at your feet and marching to his aunt and laying out all of his intentions for her to grow up and apologize to you, the same aunt that’s now blacklisted from all the gatherings.

It’s like when you were upset at him when he left abruptly in the morning and didn’t tell you where he was going because he didn’t know if you would care, partying it up in a different country for his friend’s bachelor’s party and coming home a day later with you hot on his heels. Jungkook made it up to you by once again apologizing profusely and updating you on his whereabouts since then (sometimes he gives too much information), always making it a point to bring two powerbanks with him so he can text you when he’s left and arrived.

This time though, he doesn’t know how exactly to make it up to you. He’s been in contact with professional divers to try and look for the ring for you, but he can’t be of much help until he comes along to know for sure. He’s thinking of all these different ways and approaches but he’s unsure if any of them are sufficient enough to rectify his mistake.

Jungkook feels pathetic because he swears he loves you and knows everything about you, but here he is — crying about how he doesn’t even know how you like your eggs cooked.

You’re upset at him, and he can’t do anything right for you.

( ♡ )

Jungkook tries again at dinner.

It’s the day of Meridian’s 100th anniversary and the two of you play it up for the cameras, your husband’s attention on you so keen and affectionate that you almost forget you were supposed to be mad at him.

He takes advantage of the cameras during the carpet session, tugging you close with his hand on your waist as he seizes the chance to hug you tightly at the end when you enter the hall with no cameras in place. He breathes you in as he always does, hesitant to let you go and exhale because you’re the very scent and existence of love.

Jungkook studied, of course he did. He’s touched up on his jewelry knowledge because he’s more than desperate now to seek your validation, nervously smiling all around as he waits for people to stop approaching you in your table.

His attention’s fixed on your necklace, the stone on it similar to the very ring he lent and lost. He’s brought it up about five times already, animatedly reciting trivia about it as if you’re not the literal face of the jewelry industry. He clears his throat, leaning in for you to whisper intimately, but just loud enough for the other people to hear a tad. 

“Ah, that pink sapphire looks so good on you, babe.”

“Shut up,” you mutter sharply, making Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. You melted against him when he was hugging you, that much he was sure of. He doesn’t know why you’ve become harsh again all of a sudden, forgetting that his lapse this time was opening his mouth. “Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” his brows furrow, swallowing the lump on his throat. “Pink?” he guesses, eyes wavering as he tests the waters. “Pink sapphire?”

It takes a lot in you not to make an outburst. Truth be told, you’ve started easing up on Jungkook but his attempts at trying hard is just too much and in the wrong direction, hearing pink sapphire over and over again reminding you of the ring you lost.

“Yes, that! Stop talking.”

“But I did my homework! Of course I’m not gonna stop talking,” he defends himself, the nervousness rising to his throat like bile. God, what if he did the wrong homework? What if he’s missed the assignment all along?

“Clearly you didn’t try hard enough because you’re wrong, Jungkook. This isn’t a pink sapphire — this is a pink diamond.”

Jungkook’s brain stops functioning for a solid five seconds, his mouth drying. The only proof that he was still breathing is his big eyes threatening to water.

“And so is my ring that you gave to your friend without asking me,” you add.

“What?!” he sputters in disbelief, recounting to all the other times he named the gem in multiple occasions even before today. “B-but I said it so many times before! You didn’t even correct me!”

“I didn’t correct you because you looked so proud of yourself!” you exclaim, surrendering with a sigh. Pink sapphire was the first gem that Jungkook had managed to name in your trivia night on the first month of your marriage, his avidness on getting it “right” so contagious that you didn’t have the heart to correct him.

“Pink sapphire is dirt cheap compared to pink diamonds, Jungkook! You just keep saying sapphire over and over again because it’s your birthstone,” you mumble, looking around to see if there were any people growing nosy at your conversation. “I let you say it over and over again to the point that I wore them instead of diamonds because you just can’t shut up about them,” you grit. 

This is the only time you reference your sentiment with the jewelry itself in words, your last profession of your disappointment in him being the removal of your wedding bands.

 “That’s the thing with you — you can’t tell. This isn’t just about emerald o-or octagon cuts, Jungkook. This is our marriage and you gave a girl that I don’t like my ring that meant so much to me! Now you can’t get it back.”

Jungkook’s speechless, holding back tears. You fear you’ll cry yourself when you look at his round, pleading eyes so you don’t, squeezing in the last word even if he always lets you have it.

“And now I’m correcting you because you’re embarrassing me. Now please, lay off with the gem terms.”

( ♡ )

Things have been tame between you and Jungkook.

You’ve aired out your grievances and Jungkook’s still trying hard as always, perplexing you because he hasn’t gone restless. It’s progressively warmer between the two of you but it’s nowhere near to what the two of you used to be, the air between the two of you going static that you’ve utilized it for your own.

It’s just a quick getaway for the day, hopping aboard a yacht with the intention of giving yourself a break. You’ve reflected enough but not alone with yourself, the period of space with Jungkook being much-needed.

Until you’re mistaken of course.

You think your mind’s playing tricks on you when the boat rocks more than it would with waves, but the all too familiar figure coming into your vision turns out to be real. It’s Jungkook in the flesh, wearing his scuba suit and gear.

It’s a pure coincidence that is. All Jungkook knew was that you were going on a yacht today and you didn’t specify where; meanwhile, all you knew was that he was going to be scuba diving, but he didn’t specify where either.

It’s purely kismet but your bodyguard Taehyung doesn’t seem to think so, legitimately thinking it was a pirate instead of your husband so he repeatedly smacks him with an oar until you stop him.

“Jungkook!” you call out, getting your bodyguard to stop. Atleast he has the decency to look sheepish, but he was genuinely concerned! He thought you were being hijacked by someone dressed in the most unassuming scuba suit, holding a plastic bag in his hands.

Your husband barely winces from the pain because he’s high from all the adrenaline, chest rising rapidly in succession. “Y/N, baby, I — hold on, I’m gonna, wait-…”

He looks tired still but there’s a light to him, either his radiance has come back or it was just the sun behind him but either way, it was nice to look at Jungkook who isn’t groveling at your feet for once.

He finally catches his breath, standing up to his full height as he tries not to ramble his words.

“I bought all the fish.”

“You did what?” your eyes widen, pathetically looking at the vast ocean around you. Perhaps you’re so startled (and amused) by Jungkook’s sudden and silly appearance that you forgot to apply common sense, just as breathless as he is.

“Okay maybe not all, but I did buy a lot of fish,” he concedes, nodding incessantly. He’s too excited that he can’t contain himself, even more-so when you finally look at him without disdain staining your features.

“For what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jungkook smiles, never having been more proud retelling you his previous failure.

“Your favorite seafood restaurant? I bought them their stock, provided that they’ll open up every last fish in there to see if they had your ring,” he shrugs as if it’s a common thought process to abide by, later shaking his head. “They don’t.”

If there’s just one trait that Jungkook had to be known with by everyone, it would be his persistence.

Jeon Jungkook is endearingly, cloyingly, and annoyingly persistent with the things he desires and the things he’s passionate about. You’re his wife — you’re his every last desire and passion. He had wronged you fresh from a week and some days ago but that timeframe has already given him ample time to fully redeem himself.

He can’t undo what he did. He can’t reverse the time he lent his wife’s ring to his friend who loses it not a full day later. Jungkook can’t take back any of the things he did but what he can do is be dedicatedly persistent in correcting himself.

He’s tanner, his muscles are bulged and straining, and his skin’s itchy with all the salt but he takes all of these things in stride — he’s become a better person through persistence.

“I also tried snorkeling for a week and I still couldn’t find it,” he trails, biting his bottom lip while he clasps his hands behind his back. “But I tried again today.”

It’s either relief or endearment that fills your face full, but nonetheless, the light that Jungkook sees from you lulls him to the comfort and warmth he’s been yearning from you for the past week. His eyes are strained and his body feels itself moving in waves as if he was still underwater, but he just closes his eyes to savor the moment.

You bound to him to put him in an embrace, your husband instantly melting in your hold. It’s either all the salt in his eyes or it’s just the realization that you’ve finally forgiven him and it’s all the love he feels for you, but either way, you hold Jungkook tighter.

“I found your ring.”

( ♡ )

You don’t know when Jungkook first loved you.

You can’t pinpoint an exact moment when Jungkook started acting differently towards you because he’s always been the same way from day one, the same qualities that make him both annoying and endearing having been there from the start.

You could always ask but you can’t bring yourself to. It shouldn’t bother you at the end of the day because the important thing is that Jungkook loves you. He loves without reservations, the pinnacle of his love language being his patheticness in trying hard.

Jeon Jungkook may try hard for everyone, but he tries the most for you.

He wakes up early and you only realize his absence when you turn to pat the warm space he’s supposedly left behind, making you rub the sleep out of your eyes. 

You wonder for a second that if Jungkook left the bed early and is quiet at the moment, he’s probably at the bottom of the staircase again because he yawned while going down. There’s no schedule today for either of you and you aren’t sick for him to make any sudden trips downstairs, his absence making you wonder this time.

There’s clanging coming from the garage, piquing your interest largely. There sits Jungkook wearing less safety gear that you’d like, blocks and blocks of wood surrounding him.

Your husband looks up, unassuming as usual while he breaks out into a grin.

“I’m making furniture for you.”

“That’s not necessary,” you snort, recounting all of the pieces you’ve acquired from your friend who’s an expert on woodcarving. Jungkook seems to know this too but he’s insistent, shaking his head eagerly.

His eyeglasses (his prescription ones instead of the actual safety ones) fog up from both his sweat and the few tears he’s shed out of frustration, taking them out so you could see the passion in his eyes. The passion’s definitely there, dampening his eyelashes and even tinting his eyelids pink.

“No, I’ll paint it up real good and it’ll blend it to your aesthetic.”

“Besides that, Jungkook,” you warn, coming down to squat on the space beside him. “You’re not good with tools.”

“Not good at them like Hoseok?” he questions, raising his brow. He’s frustrated and cranky and he just compared his (eager yet improper) use of large power tools compared to Hoseok’s expertise in using much, much smaller tools. Jungkook’s sweaty from all the effort, vaguely gesturing to the item in front of him. “Please, can Hoseok do it like me?” 

Your husband points to the lopsided bench (?) slash coffee table (?) slash abstract piece (?)  in front of you whose message is that they’re tired, only the scoopers for faux blood missing. It’s quite the spectacle. Not necessarily a statement piece because it raises more questions than any resolute takeaways at all.

“No, not really,” you joke around, winking to get the joke across your husband’s skull who sometimes reads between the lines too literally. “He can do it much, much better than you.”

“I’m trying to be romantic!” Jungkook whines with no real harm. “Go ahead, why don’t you divorce me and marry him because he’s so good with using a hammer?” 

The two of you were back; the same playfulness and warmth rekindling, if not stronger. Some things were just too strong to grow out of, such as Jungkook’s double takes when it comes to another name being linked to you.

He’s just making sure, still as desperate to gain your validation even before the ring incident took place.

“That was… a joke if you couldn’t tell,” Jungkook laughs robotically, eyes narrowing and widening at you every two seconds. “I’m just kidding. You knew that. You wouldn’t do that… right?”

You wouldn’t.

He knows that you love him. He had known it during his state of vulnerability and he knows it now even in a state of security. He knows it even without a wedding ring, your promise of making new ones for the both of you remaining in his mind.

The downfall of Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t be his persistence that also bears the ability to be his uprising, it was never that. Jungkook’s downfall would only be the loss of you and it’s the only absence that he can’t risk.

Your husband tries so hard that it brings you secondhand embarrassment at times, his mishap with the pink sapphire cementing in your mind just how much of himself he dedicates to you, even with lapses along the way.

Jungkook tries so hard that he ends the day with splinters on his hand and his sinuses clogged with far too much dust. His effort doesn’t always equate to the best but he gives what he always has when you’re in the equation.

It’s a wooden box for your rings, a shallow heart with your initials carved on the inside. It’s smooth even without the varnish, a stark contrast to his hands that are all rough from doing all the labor.

“I can’t give you jewelry that you already have.”

Jungkook admits to you whole-heartedly, sitting at the end of the bed while he watches you admire the box in your vanity.

“But I can make shirts for you. Stitch up your name real nicely on my chest pocket,” he offers, the smile on his lips growing. “I can make furniture for you,” he shrugs, chuckling at himself. “I can’t guarantee that it’s usable but I can make furniture a little.”

You smile so warmly that Jungkook forgets all of the little pains, melting away his fatigue. If you could put all the love you have for Jungkook in a single space, even the mansion the two of you reside in won’t be enough.

“Cooking too. I can also cook a-and make perfect rice and I promise to remember how you like your eggs in the morning.”

Jungkook knows it to heart by now, even without the reminder he’s written himself pasted on the counter. Your eyes were just so glossy and moist that Jungkook can’t help but to spring to your side, patting them dry with his shirt.

Your husband wipes away your tears even before they could form and it pushes them out further, the voice in your throat dwindling. It’s the cheap and rusting mood ring on his ring finger that gets you to sob, seeing the faint green outline that it leaves.

He takes notice of your observation, understanding that jewelry means much  more to you that he could comprehend which is why he’s quick to remedy your thoughts.

“I can always get tattoos of you if that’s what you want,” he continues, smiling sheepishly. “Actually, that’s what I want.”

Jungkook takes off his ring and it forces you to blink away your tears, lips parting open when it clicks.

It’s your initials on Jungkook’s ring finger, recognizing it as your own handwriting. 

You’re filled with a great amount of gratitude that runs even deeper than the ink on Jungkook’s skin, making you sniffle and it gets him to bury your face against his chest while he shushes you.

“Why would you get that?”

It belatedly hits you that since you took your wedding bands, your husband’s left ring finger had not been vacant since. 

“Because you sold our rings,” Jungkook shrugs, the look of ease on his face evident. “You sold them but we’re still married to each other,” he gently kisses your temple, letting you hold his hand to look at the tattoo closer. “We’re married. I still want people to know that I’m married to you.”

“Well,” you clear your throat, distraught with your emotions. “Your mood ring says you’re sad.”

“Passionate would be the term,” he sniffles, transferring the cheap ring to your finger. He giggles when it changes colors immediately, the timing of the situation being impeccable. “Okay now my ring says you’re happy.”

“Are you?” he asks whilst laughing but the both of you know it bears a weight.

“I am,” you answer just as seriously. “We’re okay, Jungkook. I forgive you.”

If you ask Jungkook what would his greatest joy and his greatest pain be, both answers would be you.

“Is your tattoo artist still around?” you ask while he puts you close to his chest, snapping him out of his trance.

“What for?”

“I think I want to match your permanent ring.”

“Are you real?” he mutters to himself, questioning your existence that he still isn’t sure if he deserves to have and love for the rest of his life. “Are you really real? You exist?”

“Yeah, he’s still around but I’d rather do it on you myself,” Jungkook answers eventually, returning the question. “Is that okay? Let me learn for a few months and I’ll tattoo my initials on you myself?”

You furrow your brows, not a single doubt placed on you if your husband was the one to tattoo you. “Yeah, but is that okay with you? You’re the only one who’s gonna have me on you for a couple more months. I can’t reciprocate because you want to ink me yourself.”

Jungkook only smiles, the warmth enough to outshine the sun.

“That’s not new to me,” he reassures you. “I loved you even before I married you.”

[persphonesorchid]

Tasting Jealousy - KSJ

Summary: Seokjin is more than happy to accompany you to your company's New Year's Eve party, he's not happy however, that your co-worker is trying to flirt with you. The presence of this man brings up feelings Seokjin thought he left behind him.

Word Count: 3.2k

Genre: COH!au, Cupid!Seokjin x F!Reader, fluff, smut...angst 😀

Warnings: Jealous jinnie, smut (Protected sex bcus Seokjin ain't looking to be a daddy for the new year. Soft Dom jinnie, fingering, kitty spanking - you'll see what I mean lmao.) Jin gets very sad at one point and it gave me flashbacks of a universe in which he left ����

Masterlist - HERE

Notes: Happy New year my darlings!! I hope this year brings you lots of joy, love and peace!! Be good to yourselves!!

Now, I love this couple so much and I just can't get away from them ajsjhsha so here you go, my last fic for the year! And guess what? You guys will finally get to know who sent MC the flower arrangements. I know a lot of you were wondering lmao. I hope to write more drabbles for these two...even though is can't be considered a drabble because it got way out of hand 😭 but! I'm not complaining! I hope you guys enjoy!!

this follows Cupid's on Holiday's What If drabble Picking Peonies

“Ranunculus.” The word is a hissed breath between Seokjin’s teeth, eyes narrowing into slits. There’s a muscle twitching just under his eye, and he should be careful. If he grips the champagne flute any tighter the fine glass will shatter.

You pause in the middle of your sentence, fingers brushing his as you take the glass he offers, head turning and tilting back a little to look up at him.

The chatter of the party populous and the soft crackle of Christmas jingles fades into background noise against the rising ring in his ears.

The man who stands across from you both must’ve been raised without manners, that or at least a little common sense. He stands tall, a inch or so shorter than Seokjin if he were to guess. They’re unintentionally matching, both wearing black turtleneck sweaters. Though, Seokjin’s coat is tweed and brushes his knees, the man’s is dark grey and stops where his hands are tucked into the pockets of his black slacks.

Its been about a minute since Seokjin went off to get you both something to drink. A minute since he spotted this man through the crowd and just knew.

It’s been about a minute since he’s walked over here, weaved his way through the crowd with a wide boxy smile and a wave in your direction. A minute of his eyes trailing over your form, lingering over the way the peach fabric accentuates your waist and flutters at your feet in soft waves. A minute since he’d leaned in with a smile and kissed both your cheeks.

A minute of him pretending Seokjin isn’t standing right here, like your arm isn’t linked with his.

Six minutes. Not like Seokjin is counting or anything.

Something burns hot in the back of Seokjin’s mind when you giggle around the syllables that make up this man’s name. You’re smiling at something he said a second ago, but Seokjin is so far in his head he didn’t hear. It’s the kind of smile you give him when he brings you your favourite treat; your cheeks puffing up and squishing your eyes. He doesn’t know if the guy’s actually funny or if you’re only smiling at him to not seem rude.

“This is Seokjin.” You say, and briefly, you look up at him, smile unmoving. There’s a pinch to your brow, probably still wondering what the meaning behind his word earlier was. A bit of pride blooms in his chest with the way you wonder; you’ve long forgotten where his distaste stems.

Seokjin dips his head in greeting when, the man – Taehyung – finally looks over at him. He extends a hand, overhead lights of the venue catching on the face of his watch that Seokjin knows is expensive. He knows because it matches his.

Seokjin shakes his hand firmly, even as Taehyung’s eyes meet yours again with a smile that seems a little more strained and a lot less boxy.

“Strong grip you’ve got there.” Taehyung's chuckle is deep as his hand falls back to his side and Seokjin only hums. “Friend of yours?”

There’s nothing in his tone that gives reason for the feeling that floods Seokjin’s chest. It rises quickly from his feet and burns the back of his neck and ears and he bristles.

“Partner, actually.” There’s an edge to his voice that he knows you’ve caught; you squeeze his arm a little.

“Ah, partner... That’s nice, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

There’s no way he couldn’t have known.

He’s not in your department, Seokjin knows. This encounter would’ve happened a whole lot sooner had he been. Seokjin had been about your work place many times over this year alone, sometimes for no particular reason. Everyone in your department knows him by now.

Office gossip spreads like a flame in a dry grass field, so it isn’t that he hadn’t known, the man just chose to blatantly ignore it.

Something about that sets Seokjin’s teeth on edge.

“Ah, well, I’m pretty private so that’s fine.” You wave your other hand, the motion careful as not to spill the champagne that sits in it.

You and Taehyung make small talk, and Seokjin drowns in the feeling that’s swimming around his head. You ask him about how his birthday went and Taehyung says it could’ve been better. And there’s a twinkle in his eyes that Seokjin doesn’t like when he says it.

Taehyung smiles, after a while of Seokjin just staring him down. “Well...all my best for the new year.” He says, the curls of his dark hair sways on his forehead when he looks to Seokjin again. “Nice meeting you.”

And like that, he was gone, back through the crowd to linger when he’d came from.

Seokjin feels you shift, and when he looks at you, you’re already watching him.

“What was that about?” you ask, a brow raised.

“What?” Seokjin raises a brow back and you sigh, tapping at his arm with hand that was looped around it.

“Jin...” You say nothing more and Seokjin busies himself with draining the rest of the champagne in his glass. He sets it down on a nearby table and you do the same, unlinking your arm from his to stand in front of him.

“Do you want to leave?” you ask softly.

“We’ve only been here two hours.” Seokjin replies, shaking his head.

“You didn’t answer my question. And besides it wouldn’t be any fun if you’re gonna be like...that for the rest of the night.”

“I’m not being like anything.” His voice is a little harsh, and Seokjin isn’t sure if it’s because he’s being called out. He sighs, brows pinching. “It’s fine. It wouldn’t be fair to you if we leave now.”

“I don’t mind, that’s why I asked. If you don’t want to stay that’s okay.”

“Why’re you so stubborn? Stop pushing it.”

You step away from him, eyes rolling as you step past.

“Where are you going?” Seokjin calls, turning as you walk, following the motion of your body with his.

“The bathroom.” You snap and Seokjin stares until you disappear into the throng of people.

There’s a low whistle behind him and Seokjin slowly turns, hackles raised again.

Taehyung is back. Barely seems to be paying him mind as he fills a plate with finger food and snacks. The long rectangular table is tucked into a corner, laden with different types of foods. He’s a bit away, but Seokjin’s certain he heard the exchange if the little smile he donned was anything to go by.

“Trouble in paradise?” He nods with his chin in the direction you stomped off to, picking a mini sandwich off his plate.

“Just a small fire. Containable. Although, I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.” If Seokjin’s eyes could narrow any further, he’d close them.

Taehyung lifts his shoulder in a shrug, “Just worrying, she’s my friend after all. Would hate to see her not have a good time.”

“Right.” Seokjin says, and then takes a breath. He doesn’t have to entertain this. He turns on his heel, walking through the crowd towards the bathrooms.

He finds you just coming out, pulling the lace of your sleeves back down to your wrists. He takes your hand, “We’re leaving.”

“Okay.”

You follow without complaint or question. Once outside, Seokjin gives you his coat because he doesn’t need it, a hand on the small of your back as he leads you to where he parked. Ever the gentleman, he opens the door for you and waits until you’re situated before going around and getting in.

He turns the heat on, and the drive is silent.

After a moment of your eyes burning into the side of his head, you finally speak: “Are you okay?”

“M’fine.” Seokjin tries to keep the edge out his tone because there’s no reason to snap at you.

You still catch it, and Seokjin sighs when you go quiet. His teeth aches when he clenches his jaw, grip tight on the steering wheel. It wasn’t long before he’s pulling into the parking lot of the apartment and you’re out the car first.

The way up to your apartment is silent, and it continues until you’re both inside, taking your shoes off at the door.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong now?”

Seokjin feels guilt knot his stomach as you stare at him, a patient look on your face.

“I’m sorry. It’s just...”

There was still a lot of things Seokjin was getting used to. It’s been a year since he decided to break every rule set for him and stay with you. There are times when he’s blissfully unaware of it. When he’s tucked it into the far reaches of his mind in a box under lock and key and it doesn’t bother him. Sometimes though, like now, it rattles along the inside of his head, bouncing off corners.

Taehyung is the one who sent you that horrid floral arrangement on valentines day. It had long stopped irritating him whenever thought about it. The initial jealousy had come and crested like a wave and was gone then. Now it crashes in like a tsunami.

It’s not just jealousy he feels, but a strange sense of being lost. Like he’s walking through a fog with a blindfold. He’s aware of what he did, when he decided to turn his back on his duty and be selfish. He knows well there are some things he can’t ever give you.

A normal, happy life is one of them.

He can give you whatever you ask for, anything you want it’s yours without question. But what happens later? Years down the road and you’re married to him and he can’t give you the one thing you’ll want then.

The person meant for you could give that to you.

He’s being selfish. You’ve never complained, but Seokjin knows you must’ve wondered about it by now. The what if. Maybe...perhaps it would've been better if he'd followed through with leaving then...

“Jin?” you call softly, ducking your head a bit to meet his gaze, “Talk to me, what is it?”

“Do you regret it?” His voice is just as soft, looking down at his feet. He looks up, somewhere above your head, sighing, “Do you know that he’s the one who sent you those flowers?”

You seem confused for a moment, and then recollection lights in your eyes. “Oh! Oh...Jin.” you chuckle a bit and step closer.

“Don’t laugh, it’s not funny.” Seokjin groans, and meets you halfway when you reach for him. Your fingers dance at the nape of his neck and Seokjin pulls you closer by the waist.

“Is that what was bothering you?”

He can only hum, and you chuckle again. The warmth of your hand rubs circles against his back and he feels that warmth seep into his bones and settle there.

“I don’t regret anything. None of it.” You murmur against his neck, and Seokjin pulls away, cupping your cheek with a hand. His thumb gently caresses, and he meets your eyes for the first time in a while and calls your name softly.

“There are things that I can’t give you.”

“So?”

There’s a fierce look in your eyes that makes Seokjin wrap his next set of words up neatly and swallow them.

“None of that matters. You’re more than enough.”

Seokjin closes the gap between you both, pressing his lips firmly to yours. The arm at your waist pulls you close and the hand that sits at the side of your neck tails into your hair to tug at the many pins that you’d secured it with.

He spins you with practiced ease, pressing your back against the wall of the entryway and crowding your space.

He places a kiss at the corner of your mouth just to tease, and chuckles when you chase. His kisses trail along your jaw, stopping just below your ear, and he takes the lobe between his teeth.

The little sound you make shoots down his spine, and he feels your fingers curl into the fabric of his sweater. He taps at your waist, his hand trailing over the curve of your ass and he gives you a moment to settle your arms securely around his neck before he lifts.

He doesn’t need to see where he’s going to find his way to your bedroom, and he busies himself with kissing and marking the skin he could reach. The fingers of his other hand finding the zipper at the back of your dress to tug down.

He sets you on your feet, pulling back just enough to help you out of your dress, his eyes still closed as he trails his lips over your collarbone, pushing the fabric off your body until it pools at your feet. Your skin is warm where he touches, he ghosts his fingers along your sides and revels the way you visibly shiver.

The bralette you chose for the night is lace and hides nothing from his hooded gaze, your nipples taut from the chill and his caress. He thumbs at the peaks, and when you tug on the hem of his sweater, he tuts at your impatience.

His hand slides up your back, unclasping the bralette and pushing you gently back until you hit the bed. The straps slide down your arms and he tugs it off, palming at a breast with a groan trapped behind his teeth.

“Jin..” you sigh his name and Seokjin hums, tilting his head at you.

He leans into you and you fall back. Seokjin holds his weight on his hands just above tour shoulders, and his knees trapping your thighs between them. He watches you blink up at him with some confusion as he simply stares.

“Let me ask you something.” He says, and then he shift, getting onto the bed and sitting with his back against the headboard. He curls his fingers at you, and with a bit of uncertainty tinting your form you follow. He settles you between his spread legs, pressing a kiss to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder as he traces patterns against the skin of your thighs.

He spreads you legs with a gentle hand, bringing his legs up a bit so that the back of your knees hooks against his thigh. Seokjin brings his hand down quickly, the lace of your underwear does nothing to shield you from it and he chuckles when your surprised whine meets his ears. He feels you trying to snap your legs shut as the sting of his hand runs through you, the way your back arches away from his chest.

“Tell me, sweet girl.” Seokjin coos, and he decides to be nice, rubbing soothing circles against your lace covered pussy. He could feel just how wet you are, your panties slide against your slick skin with his movements, damp against his hand. “Do you think you’re deserving of my touch right now?”

Your exhale rattles against his chest, and he waits patiently for your answer. He allows you a moment to think, and he knows it’s hard, as his fingers tease at the seam of your underwear, slipping underneath to find the wetness there.

“I am.” You finally say.

“Oh, are you?” Seokjin chuckles, dipping a finger into the warmth of you just to hear your gasping moan. He presses the finger against your clit, circling once, twice, and then he stops. “Do you want me to tell you why you’re not?”

Seokjin kisses your jaw, and the slight shift of your hips doesn’t go unnoticed. “You let that man get near you. Allowed him to act like I wasn’t there. Ignored the way he was looking at you.”

“Jin, it wasn’t...”

“Shh,” Seokjin shushes you gently, fingers resuming the slow, torturous grind against your clit. “I should make you cum until you cry.”

The whimper you let out makes his slacks feel constricting. He sinks two fingers, knuckle deep into you and kisses your neck when your head lulls back against his shoulder. He watches the way his hand moves under your panties, curling his fingers against the spot that makes your toes curl.

He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, and runs his tongue along the shell of your ear when your pussy clenches and your moans go up in pitch.

“Close already?” Seokjin coos mockingly, a chuckle on his exhale. The fingers of his other hand pinching lightly at your nipples, and then he stops, “That’s too bad, then.”

Your groan holds frustration and Seokjin unhooks your legs from his. He stands to rid himself of his clothes, his cock hard and weeping when it slaps lightly against his stomach. The reaction you invoke in him has never changed, a shiver slithers down his spine and watches at your tongue darts out to moisten your lips. You reach a hand out to him and Seokjin takes it, bending a little at his waist to press kisses against your fingers.

He fishes a condom from your nightstand – ever mindful – and then crawls between your legs, taking a moment to slide your panties down them.

“Okay?” He asks to make sure that you’re okay to continue, that he’s not driving you too hard.

You nod, and you lift your hips, pressing his cock between your wet heat and his stomach. Seokjin groans against your lips, tightening his grip against your thigh.

He moves his hips, pulling back and then pushing into you with slow, languid strokes. He kisses you tenderly, his tongue exploring your mouth. When his fingers brush against your clit, the way your core tightens around his cock has him seeing stars. His thrusts gets faster, and he knows just how quickly you’re hurdling towards your end, he watches every minute expression. The way your eyes squeeze shut and how your lips curl around his name, the scratching of your nails down his back.

Just as you reach the peak, Seokjin moves his hand away and slows his thrusts, leaving you trembling and whining. He smiles against your lips, and whispers, “Let’s take this slow.” He kisses you again, his thrusts becoming slower and gentler.

He continues to move in and out of you at a slow, steady pace, taking his time to bring you to the edge of pleasure again and again. Eventually, he begins to speed up, and he moves his hand back to your clit, sending you over the edge into a powerful orgasm.

“Fuck.” Seokjin groans, following not long after, his forehead against your collarbone. There’s a ringing in ears when he comes down, and he presses a kiss to your sternum before pulling away.

After you were both cleaned up and the sheets were changed, Seokjin holds you close as you both watch the couple of minutes tick by until midnight.

“Do you have any resolutions?” Your head is against his chest, a leg over his hip.

He traces patterns against your thigh, thinking quietly. This is another one of those human things that he wouldn’t ever grasp. You rang in the last new year with Yoongi and Hoseok while he was busy with his duties with the other Cupids in the area, so you must’ve had this question for a while.

Seokjin hums softly, “Loving you. That’s it.” He smiles when you giggle and when the fireworks start up at the stroke of midnight you both watch them light up the night sky through your open window.

“Happy New Year, Jinnie.”

Seokjin turns, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss and he whispers the words back to you.

You both lay there for a moment, quiet, and then Seokjin speaks: “You know, I could make him fall in love with his office chair or something.”

“Jin.”

tagging: @xpeachesncream @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @euphoricfilter @luaspersona @mssukeyna @allhobbitstoisengard @eoieopda @minmin2022 @liveyun

[kithtaehyung]

the window (3tan) (m) | myg

title: the window (m)   pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)   series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au   summary: you get to spend the holidays in a lavish private lodge with your brother and all his friends. but you’re just really fucking sad tonight… and maybe a bit mad, too. note: so in order to not fall more behind than i already am, i went ahead and combined both holiday specials into one🥃this one came about due to window anon’s reminder about yoongi’s window threat, and everyone that proceeded to cause outright chaos all day after that. so if you want someone to yell at for this, yell at them!!! note 2: this is a holiday special! therefore where it fits/if it fits in future canon is not disclosed. so this can be enjoyed as a one-shot, but i still highly recommend reading all the three tangerines series if you haven’t yet<3 it’ll make things make a lot more sense.  warnings: strong language, alcohol, this yoongi requires his own warning tbh, chains making a comeback who is shocked!!!, or*l (m rec), manhandling, hitting it from the back a ha ha, angst :(((, masturb*tion, exhibiti*nism, omg we’re kinda pissed y’all😳, ….c*ckwarming, rough s*x, slow motion l o l, missi*nary, protected s*x, cmnf (clothed male), pain kink :)), kissing haha, !!!angry!!!s*x!!!!, c*wgirl, light d*m/sub dynamics, tense scenes, bro appearance, body worship, yoongi is deliciously aggravating, but so is brat!reader<333, ch*king (m/f rec), head/hair pulling (m/f), multiple org*sms, yoongi’s fit is basically 2022 grammys have funn🥴, cute af aftercare<3 drop date: january 10th, 2023, 7:17pm est word count: 15.3k bc i can’t stfu !! 

-

-

“You sure you don’t wanna join us?”

“I’ll be okay, Tae.” 

“Okay. Well, call me if you change your mind.” 

“I will.” 

“Wait. Are you really sure?”

“Yes, Chim.” 

“...Okay.” 

Before you shut your door, you offer both boys a smile they don’t buy. 

But they leave regardless, and you watch as they make it down the staircase of your elaborate rented house, their chatter coating both the polished floors and the decorated walls. 

A sigh escapes. 

You know they’re meeting up with everyone else, but you can’t bring yourself to join in on the festivities. Not after whatever the hell you witnessed at dinner last night. 

Why did Yoongi… 

Fuck, forget about it. It’s probably nothing. 

Drifting to your bed, you check your phone previously dumped on the nightstand, sighing at an empty screen before making your way into the cozy nook of your bedroom. 

Seriously, does every bedroom in this mansion-like place have a mini kitchen and living area, too? How did Jungkook happen to score this house for a whole week? You even have a decent balcony, which you would be sitting on if not for the subzero temperatures outside.

However this happened, you’re still in shock that you’re the only one who got a bedroom to themselves. 

Well, maybe it’s not that surprising. Your brother definitely muscled everyone else into rooming with each other, claiming Yoongi for himself. The only one that really complained was Jungkook, but Seokjin only said to suck it up before rolling his suitcase right past the younger one’s pout.

Contemplative, you walk over to fill the electric kettle you found in the kitchen, flipping it on before watching the sunset outside hickory windows.

If only your friends were able to come. At least you could’ve enjoyed their company around your fireplace while you downed hot chocolate and stewed in your thoughts. Maybe then you would brush off these icky feelings faster, or at least had Dom there to get another read on the situation you’re replaying in your head. 

Then again.

She would probably be biased and say Yoongi isn’t shit.

Groaning, you grab a mug from one of the cabinets before taking a hot chocolate packet from the counter, tearing it open and hoping it helps.

Upon inspection, there doesn’t seem to be much of anything—just a wad of the powder stuffed in one of the corners.

Of course.

A tsk scratches your teeth before you lean the cocoa against your cup, and the kettle boils just as your blood pressure falls close behind.

Yoongi knew you could see him.

Why did he do that?

And why hasn’t he said anything about it since?

The trip had been pretty magical and fantastic before that dinner. You got to go sightseeing in the snow-capped mountains with everyone, snuck a peek of Tae’s little moment with Jimin in the hot springs, visited a quaint village with pretty shops, and even sat around a fire pit after grilling food.

Only the studio guys and your brother have been less active during this trip, since they’ve all committed to various projects that they’ve been working on in their rooms. 

Profoundly different from, as that woman so wonderfully put it last night, going sightseeing at her place instead. 

You still remember the look Yoongi had after she slipped him what you imagine was her number. Smack dab in the middle of all of you having dinner in the same little town as the first time. 

When she popped up unannounced, Hoseok and Namjoon were too nice to wave her off. But it wasn’t until it was apparent that she was only there for Yoongi did they swallow their niceties—only for your brother to swoop in with the wingman charm. 

“Are you all enjoying the town?”

“Hell yeah,” he blurted before Yoongi could even say anything. “Food’s good and the views are great. We just went on one of those mountain tours, too.” 

“Ugh, aren’t those so fun?”

“You get it. Right, Yoong?”

Frankly, you don’t wanna recall how the rest of that went down again. Not when all you could picture is the hand kept on Yoongi’s back the whole time, or the look he actually gave her when she turned suggestive. 

And how deep you dug your nails into Tae’s dress pants.

Fuck, you should apologize for those marks he definitely has.

What makes everything even worse? You recognized exactly where you saw her before that night. 

You… She…

“Fuck.”  

Saddened even more than before, you dump hot water into your cup, yelping when some sloshes out onto your hand ouch.

Of course. Yes. How perfect. 

The next curse is less subtle than your shout as you bang the kettle back onto the countertop. And you’re one second from tossing your fresh cup in the sink before you hear rapid knocking. 

Shit. 

Your brother most definitely heard you from right next door. 

Eyes shut, you fling your hand around while making your way over to tell him to screw off. He knows better than anyone why you could possibly be in one of these moods, dinner woes or not. 

“Don’t worry, dude, I’m—”

Oh.

He’s not who you expect to see at all.

“Kook,” you whoosh out, closing the gap so that only your soured face can be seen. “Hi.” 

“Hey. You okay?”

Observing concern under blond bangs, you give a sniff nod. “Yeah. Why?”

“I just…” When Jungkook pauses, you finally notice how nice he looks. “Thought I heard you shouting.”

“Oh.”

He looks really nice, in fact. His suit is a whole step above the sweats and baggy shirt you’re sporting behind thick wood and room care instructions.

This holiday event the neighborhood is throwing must be fancy as hell. You figured Taehyung and Jimin dressed up just because, but apparently you’re missing a whole—

God. Damn it.

Your heart must’ve seen Yoongi coming from your brother’s room before you did, because its beats already stop before he fully comes into view.

Wow.

What in the fuck?

Why the hell does he have to look like that when you’re this frustrated? Of course he’d rock a black button-up and slacks. Of course he’d style his hair in a way that makes you wanna snatch him from the hallway. Of course he’d look the most expensive you’ve ever seen him.

This is a whole other layer of upset that you didn’t need tonight. 

Did he dress up because…

Shut up. Just shut up shut up and talk again because Jungkook looks gravely concerned.

“Well,” you start, tearing your gaze away from your current problem and fighting back pent-up rage. “I’m fine. Have fun.”

“You aren’t going?”

Like some tether that would go taut if pulled apart for too long, your eyes snap back to Yoongi’s. But your response remains tight as he adjusts one of his cuffs, “I said I wasn’t gonna.”

Damn it, don’t lose it when they’re both here. Jungkook’s already got a look in his eye and Yoongi is definitely sussing you out with his furrowed gaze.

Don’t be like this right now. Let them go first. 

It’s the younger one that tries to convince you,

“Hey, it could be fun. And it’s an open bar! We can wait if you wanna cha—”

“I’m good,” you clip him off, heart sinking because you’re being brash but you can’t rein yourself in. With what already happened combined with… other things, you are way too wound to be social. “I already said I wasn’t going at dinner last night. But y’all seemed distracted enough, so.” 

Yoongi straightens while Jungkook simply utters a confused sound. 

Fucking hell, just let them go. 

Don’t make it worse. Don’t do it. 

But the dinner, the dinner, the dinner. You didn’t ask about it, but Yoongi still could’ve said something about it right he could’ve texted well okay this really shouldn’t be that big of a deal anyway maybe it’s nothing but fuck you’re still mad wait you’re saying something,

“Have fun sightseeing.”

Shit.

“Wait—”

Doors slam a lot louder when they’re huge.

And leave a more prominent silence, too.

Slowly pressing your back against the grain, you instantly feel rife with regret. 

That didn’t need to happen like that. 

Especially with Jungkook there looking both lost and confused as hell, when all he wanted to do was check on you.

Goddamn it. All you had to do was wait until they were gone. Why did you take it out on them? 

Yoongi didn’t say anything about what happened. But you didn’t talk to him, either. A whole day passed and his texts about the snow outside and going to the party tonight are the last ones in your thread. 

Which you were mad about because you already mentioned you weren’t going.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

“What the hell just happened?”

Wait, they’re still at the door? 

Eyes downcast and grey, you perk your ears to see what they could possibly be saying.

If any insults are thrown, you can’t be mad. Not when you just acted so damn shitty.

“Don’t, Kook.”

“But I—”

“Drop it.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

“The fuck? No. Let’s go.” 

“Okay… Wait, is he coming?”

“Nah.” 

“They both aren’t? Who’s going?”

“…Everyone else.” 

“Oh… Right, okay.” 

You’re fully slumped on the ground once their deep voices vanish down the stairs, and a single tear slips from your chin as your arms top shaky knees. 

You hope Jungkook doesn’t take it personal. 

Dinner woes or not, you weren’t going anyway. 

“Hey, babe. How’s the trip without me? Boring as hell probably.” 

“Something like that,” you huff, voice rueful through your matching, broken smile. As you take another bite of your tiny snack bowl, you keep your eyes on the movie that some people deem a Christmas one, despite there being more shooting and a guy in a destroyed white tank than anything. 

Whatever. You’ll take it above any of the fluffier choices. 

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked what’s wrong. Now you’re just scaring me. Do I need to fly my ass over there?”

“No, Dom,” you sigh. “Just need a metaphorical gut punch.” 

Immediately, your friend’s voice turns low and condensed. 

“What did he do.” 

“Uhm.” For some reason, her protectiveness makes you want to cry again. But you have to get through this in one piece, especially if it turns out to be nothing. “Technically, I don’t know if he did anything.” 

There’s a pause before Dom responds again, 

“Why not?” 

Your lips press together with guilt. “I didn’t ask.” 

“Okay, so…” 

“Ugh, I wish you saw what went down,” you respond with frustration. “I know I sound dumb, but—”

“What happened, baby. I haven’t heard you like this in a long ass time.” 

“Sad?”

“Pathetic.” 

“Well, goddamn!” You give your phone a glare before a surprise laugh bubbles forth, and you can hear your friend cackle on the other line. “Whose side are you on?”

“Tell me everything first and I’ll decide.” 

“Fuck you and your sag brain.” 

“Don’t have this tat for nothing.” 

After you take a deep breath, you turn down the gunfire and explosions before reliving the dinner. How Yoongi had been giving you looks as you and your brother traded embarrassing stories, your whole table laughing with every single one. 

You tell Dom about how you saw the woman come up to you all, hand going right to the back of Yoongi’s chair before it slipped onto his shoulder—which he did nothing about. 

She stays silent throughout the whole thing, even when you tell her how Yoongi glanced down at the napkin he got before turning to your amused as hell brother, both of them engaged in what seemed to be interesting conversation. 

When you’re done, you stuff a bunch more food in your mouth, so much so that you have to chew a lot before answering her follow-up question, 

“And he hasn’t texted you at all after that?”

You cough a bit before forcing the pity snacks down, swallowing more than salt before admitting, 

“He has.” 

“Oh. Okay, and?”

“I…” Damn it. “I haven’t responded.”

There’s a long sigh before Dom recaps, 

“So the man texts you once after that and you don’t even—”

“Twice.” 

“...What?”

Your eyes shut in embarrassment. “He, uhm. He texted twice.” 

Silence.

“And I may have just slammed the door in his face.”

Triple, layered, compounded silence.

In fact, after a whole thirty seconds, Dominique is so quiet you think she literally walked away from you and her phone.

You’re so curious that you bring it up to your face before getting blasted by her yell,

“Really?”

“Look—”

“You called me to tell me this? You made me walk away from family game time, you know that? I’m taking all the heat—”

“Dom, I’m sorry, but—”

“For the love of— Finish whatever the fuck you’re stuffing your face with, and text him back.” 

“But he—”

“He what? Flirted with some chick in front of everyone like he’s supposed to?” 

You snap your mouth shut. 

“What did you expect him to do? Lock eyes with you the whole time and wave the girl off as if he’s already got someone at home?” 

“I—”

“What happened to keeping things on the down low.”

“Alright!” Your head ducks straight between your arms. “I get it, okay? I’m just in a shit mood like I am every year and the one person I…” 

You inhale slow through your nose, eyes closed to the world. Two people already got burned by your misplaced wrath. You don’t need to add a third. 

Swallowing, you try again. “The one person that could possibly make it better this time just took this chick’s number in front of me.” 

“Babe.” 

You sigh. 

“I just wanna see him, Dom,” you finally admit to the universe. “But we can’t.”

“Mm.”

“And that dinner just made it even worse.” Another saddened whoosh of air slips from your nose. “I know I’m overreacting. I am. But it’s upsetting to have to sit through that.” 

“Then tell him that.”

“Not right now. Not after shutting him out.”

“Then suck it up and apologize first.”

She’s right. 

Either way this goes, an apology to Yoongi is definitely in order. 

But also, this is the first conversation in awhile in which your best friend absolutely grilled you. Even when she cornered you in your car to warn you about Yoongi before, it wasn’t this caustic. 

The way she’s come around is mind-blowing. It’s enough to make you question, “When did you start defending him this hard?”

Dom immediately corrects with a scoff before comforting you in the most Dominique way possible. 

“This isn’t even about him. I’m looking out for you. And right now, you’re the one that’s hurting you.” 

Your face scrunches with emotion.

“So make up with my future brother in law and I’ll see you when—”

“What?”

“—get back. And y’all use protection, right? Cus I don’t wanna be an auntie just ye—”

“Dom!” You are so whooping her know-it-all ass when you get back. She doesn’t get to give you butterflies after making you cry! 

“What? I need to be stupid rich first.”

“I’m hanging up on you now goodbye.”

There’s a fizzy cackle on the other line, and you can’t help but break into a grin when she bids farewell.

“Love you!”

You wipe a trail from your cheek before moving your phone up to your mouth. Because you wanna cradle it close while saying bye for real, 

“Love you, too.”

You [10:11pm]: hey

You [10:13pm]: i’m sorry 

There. 

You did it. 

…And now you wait.

Ten long minutes of fidgeting and worrying later, you finally get a response. 

Yoongi [10:23pm]: You coming?

Part of you wishes to, especially knowing he looks like the devil incarnate. 

But you just can’t bring yourself to go. It’s just not in you tonight. 

You [10:27pm]: still no

Yoongi [10:27pm]: Ok hold on

You wait for a few moments before you get a call, and your eyes bug out of their sockets because you certainly didn’t expect this.

When you pick up, it’s loud as hell on his end. “Hi.”

“Talk to me.”

“I’m…” This feels silly to do right now. There’s a ton of sound and music, and your subject feels supremely out of place. “You sure?”

“Yes, babe.” 

What did he just say? Can’t people hear him?

“I’m just…” Well, if he’s fine with it then you’ll take the opportunity. “Sad? Upset? Something like that.”

“I know. I’ve been trying to get outta here but—”

“One more drink, Yoongi!”

“Yoongi, hurry up.”

“Is that his girlfriend—”

Ah. Cool.

And your mood sours even more than before. 

“Right,” you respond, voice hardened and emotions knotted. “Sounds like it’s been super hard.”

“Okay, hold up. Is this about the dinner?”

Teeth grit when you confirm, “Yes, it is.”

“What about it?”

“You know exactly what.”

“No. I don’t. So if you wanna say something, say it.”

You’re boiling inside. If he knows it’s about the dinner he should know what the fuck you’re referring to. Why is he being difficult?

Truthfully, you’re so fed up that you damn near drop it. “Never mind.”

“…What?”

“Nothing.”

Yoongi’s voice competes with a flurry of other sounds, but its heat still comes across,

“It’s not nothing. Don’t lie.” 

“Did you end up calling her? That girl.” You exhale sharp as you finally ask, body tightly wound and ready to burst. “If I can’t lie then you can’t, either.”

And there’s a moment of silence. 

Stupid, dreadful silence.

“I did.”

And your heart slams into the ground. “I see.” 

“You wanna know why?”

Absolutely not. “No.”

“No?”

“I’m done now.”

“Wait a sec—”

“Yoongi!”

There’s a commotion on the line before you hear a much higher voice, way too close to the receiver,

“He’s with us now, ma’am. Bye!”

The line cuts.

Your vision burns.

And you fold.

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Yoongi [10:47pm]: Pick up. Please.

You [10:49pm]: i can’t do this. not tonight.

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Yoongi: Voicemail

“Look. I don’t even know if you’ll hear me out, but. I only called her cus she works at that jewelry store in the village. The one we all looked at the first day? Maybe you remember, if you don’t it’s cool, too. But I was getting something for your brother and I didn’t want him to know. So, yeah.”

That’s where you saw her before.

But Yoongi could’ve at least told you that beforehand. Or at all. 

Why didn’t he even mention that? 

Why did he have to leave you guessing and what about the people at the party… 

It helps to know. 

But it doesn’t mend you entirely.

Yoongi [11:02pm]: I left. 

Yoongi [11:03pm]: It’s still fucking cold btw

You [11:05pm]: you left ?? why?

Yoongi [11:05pm]: You know why

You [11:07pm]: it’s still early

Yoongi [11:08pm]: Got somewhere to be 

You [11:10pm]: i’m sure you do

Shutting your eyes, you already regret sending that. 

…But when he replies? 

Yoongi [11:12pm]: K

Yoongi [11:12pm]: Night

You know you crossed the line.

And just like that, your haze of anger whooshes from your eyes, vision snapping as clear as your head should’ve been ages ago. 

Fuck.

You know for a fact that Yoongi wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. So why the hell have you been treating him like shit? Being in a sour mood doesn’t give you an excuse to be this way.

All anger now melting into pure regret, you slap the mattress before rushing up, snatching your snack bowl up and berating yourself like hell. 

But are you yelling at yourself entirely? Or is part of your wrath still staring Yoongi down? 

Fuck. You don’t know. Maybe it’s both; maybe it’s misplaced entirely. 

Dumping your dish in the mini-sink, you hear it clink into others, your pathetic, unceremonious pile growing even larger.

Absolutely no reason to check your phone anymore.

There’s no way you’ll hear from him now.

Buried in bed, you sniffle for the umpteenth time, turning the television up louder so that your pitiful state can’t be heard through the wall. 

Your brother is on the other side. And if he heard you crying, you wouldn’t get rid of him until you told him a lie or claimed Mother Nature’s monthly wrath. Which would also be a lie tonight, too. 

You messed up.

And you deserve this silence because why can’t you just trust him like you’ve been working up to? Do the holiday lows really affect your mindset this much? 

Well. Now that you think about it. 

This does remind you of a similar situation from some years back… Is that why—

Wait.

Your phone’s vibrating. 

You shoot up from under the covers.

Where is it?

You tossed it where is it—floor. 

Snatching it from the cold carpet, you check the screen and crack into a sob at the caller ID. 

Goddamn it… Why is he giving you so many chances.

You’re the one that screwed up.

Yoongi: Incoming Call

“…Hi.”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, still feeling the burns near your eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Just let me in, doll.”

“Huh?”

There’s a pause before he breathes, and you cannot believe what you’re hearing. 

“Open the window.” 

What…?

No fucking way. 

You pause while staring at your curtains, wondering if Yoongi is really on the other side of the thick, neutral material. 

He can’t be. 

But if he is, you gotta get him the fuck inside because it’s cold as hell out there. 

So you fling the covers off while ending the call, chucking it behind you while tugging the drapes to the side. 

And you can’t believe what you see. 

One thing about Yoongi: he’s always going to look better than you. Even when standing on a dark balcony, bangs so stiff they aren’t even jittering with his shakes. 

“Oh, shit,” you curse aloud as you unlock the latch, not realizing that as soon as you slide the door open just enough—

“Come here.”

In seconds, you’re swooped into a freezing hug, and he smells like whiskey and cologne but also like him and home and you’re too caught up in his fingers on the back of your neck to notice him sliding the door shut with his other hand. “Why did you—” 

“Quiet.” 

“But—” 

“Uh uh.” 

“You’re mad—” 

“I am,” he mutters, and your heart constricts before he clarifies. “But only cus I didn’t do this right.” 

“What?” 

What didn’t he do right? What are you missing? How is he even here? There are too many questions and not enough answers at all. 

But Yoongi still doesn’t let go of your head, instead palming it just a bit more into his dress shirt before he whispers, “Just...” 

And he stops. 

Without any indication of—

“Can I just kiss you.” 

Your heart drops, which is painfully ironic because it feels lighter than ever. 

Lifting your head from his person, you can only stare into his awaiting gaze, shifting your eyes side to side because this man needs to be studied by all of humanity. 

How can someone manage to break down your defenses in five words? How can someone make a day full of missteps and wasted time feel like it wasn’t a waste at all? 

You only get to nod once before he consumes you in a frenzy, nerves and senses going haywire at the way he’s tugging you in holy fuck you see stars. 

Desperation. Frustration. You taste both of these, but there is also something else—an apology. 

Good. 

Because even though you messed up, he kinda did, too. And you think you now have the courage to tell him what he did to upset you.

“You know what?” 

“Hmm.”

You snag the front of his shirt. “I’m pissed, too.” 

As he slings you around to kiss you against the chilled glass door, your body buzzes with a flurry of thoughts. Under all the pain, the anger, the relief that he’s here… 

It’s just intriguing as fuck to see him in this state.

Because Yoongi has shown you time and time again how dangerous he can be. How he can lose control in the best ways just as you do for him. 

But right now? Devouring you like you both had been apart for months while your brother’s on the other side of the wall? 

“Yoongi—” 

“Don’t.” 

This is the most daring he’s ever been. And you’re completely surrendering to the flames he’s engulfing you with. 

Your hands grip his top incredibly hard, clawing at him with unspoken words of your own. With each tug, you’re oscillating between telling him to leave, and begging him to stay. 

And with both of his palms on your neck, his firm presses tell you he’s not leaving regardless of what you have to say. 

Suddenly, your heart isn’t aching because of what you witnessed before. It’s aching because of how wonderful and stupid and perfect this man is. It hurts because…

“This is all I wanted,” you finish your thoughts through wobbly, puffy lips. 

When Yoongi hovers just enough to ghost over you, you can’t keep from shaking when you continue, 

“I just… I wanted you here, even if you upset me.” 

Instead of claiming your lips again, Yoongi goes for a light touch to your nose. Which is just as fine because that’s his to claim, too. “But all I did was shut you out, and just now those girls sounded all over you and—” 

“You should’ve seen what happened.” 

Blinking, you feel the distance he’s creating by leaning away. “Hmm?” 

“After that chick took my phone,” he explains, deep set in a frown. “Shit pissed me the fuck off.” 

“Oh.” 

“I don’t even know where they came from. Hobi, maybe?” He shakes his head again, and the agitation you witness between his shoulders makes you crumble. “But doesn’t matter. At all. Okay?” 

“No, I know. I’m not—I’m not normally like this. But this time of year is just…” You sigh, tilting your head down until Yoongi forces you to keep looking him in the eye. When you go on, his insistent finger on your chin makes tears form. “It messes with me. But that’s no excuse to be an ass.” 

In the wake of your admittance, he simply stares. And stares some more. 

A single drop of remorse slips from your eye, but you swipe it as soon as you feel the trail. Because you’re not gonna dwell in this any longer. He’s here, knowing damn well he shouldn’t be, and you realize that’s enough to tell you that he’s sorry, too.  

But what is that look in his eye? 

What is he saying that you can’t quite decipher? 

“Did you get my message?”

You nod.

“Mm. Well, it’s not all true.” 

Oh. 

Hell no.

When you’re about to move away, he stills you with a hand on your arm while reaching into his back pocket. 

What does he mean he lied what did he lie about he better explain quick or else… a pouch?

Your eyes stay unblinking as you register that Yoongi’s holding a soft bag in his hand. 

And you know exactly what those are used for. 

“Yoongi,” you whisper, voice almost lost. “What the hell is that?” 

“I didn’t go back just for him.” He keeps staring at the tiny container while you regard him, still gobsmacked. “But yeah, that girl? She thought I was there for her, so. Wasn’t exactly happy when I mentioned you.” 

Your heart has got to keep it together. “Me?” 

“Yeah. I knew what I wanted to get you, but. Couldn’t exactly go there myself without a reason.” As he places the soft pouch in your hand, he explains, “He was on my ass about seeing her after the dinner, too.” 

Your hand closes around the bag. 

He knew what he wanted to get you? 

You?

This whole night just seems to drift more and more into dreamland. Are you sleeping after all? Those kisses did feel very, very real, though…

Suspended in disbelief that Yoongi is both present and handing you a gift, you breathe out, 

“Thank you… But why didn’t you tell me?” 

Yoongi scrunches his face in what you assume is embarrassment. Adorable. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” he says through a regretful smirk. “Guess I should’ve just fessed up.” 

“This time? Yeah.” You look down at the bag, feeling like you don’t deserve it. “I know I shouldn’t have, but my brain went straight for the worst possible scenario. It’s, umm…”

Looking away, you fight the tears that you specifically didn’t want falling. The ones that you were done crying years ago, 

“It’s happened before. Around this same time, actually.” 

Eyes burning, Yoongi seethes. “Who the fuck?” 

You shake your head and face him again, whispering out reassurance, 

“Someone that doesn’t matter now.”

His silence seems to be different than before. When he runs a hand along the side of your head, you press into it like second nature. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t know.”

“It’s not something I like talking about,” you quietly confess. “Which is stupid if it’ll also make me upset. So I’m sorry, too.” 

“You wanna know something?” 

“Sure.” 

He drops his hand into a pocket. “You being mad never crossed my mind. No one else can even...” Yoongi lets out a huff so delicate you would never guess it was his. “If anything, I’m pissed that I haven’t shown you well enough.” 

Now that’s interesting. 

Blinking, you reach for context, “Haven’t shown me? Shown me what?”

He rakes a hand through his hair while glancing away. But when you lock eyes, he clarifies with zero waver in his tone,

“How I feel about you.”

…Oh.

Your stare is full of wonder and, while you didn’t notice it before, he seems to have a certain aura around him tonight. Something strong. Something resolute. 

“No,” you whisper, a tear pinging onto your shirt. “You have. Damn it, I—It’s my fault.” 

He is quick to assuage your guilt, just like always. And like all the times before, he moves on before you can protest, 

“Open it.”

Oh. Right. You still have the impossible gift in your hand that you know you’re gonna keep forever without even knowing what it could be. 

In front of you, Yoongi remains silent as you widen the opening. And you feel him awaiting your reaction as you pull out a necklace so simple, yet so elegant, that you can only assume that yes, you are dreaming. None of this is actually happening.

It’s a thin chain, with small links and no embellishments. 

And it’s perfect. 

“Oh my god.” 

“She insisted I get you some sort of charm or whatever for it,” he finally speaks in murmurs. “But I didn’t wanna pick something you wouldn’t like.” 

You stare. 

“So I’ll just bring you next time, and you choose.” 

And you damn near drop the gift. “What?” 

When you slap a palm over your mouth, Yoongi’s lips curve. “No bullshit.” 

“I…” What is happening? What is going on? “I dunno how you’d swing that since everyone’s here.” 

“I’ll just take you here myself.” 

His look of confidence has you averting your gaze in an instant. 

“Just us.” 

Tonight has taken too many turns into madness. He’s joking, right? It’s not enough to sneak into your room with your door completely unlocked, huh?

No. He’s not serious. You both know that’s the longest shot in history, especially considering your situationship isn’t even fully fleshed out. 

But it’s nice to pretend. 

Especially when he sounds so sure it’ll be real someday.

“This is way too much,” you say through a rueful smile, head shaking as you continue to dub tonight unreal. “Thank you, Yoongi.” 

“Huh? You deserve a lot more than this.” He scoffs while taking the necklace from your hand, carefully slipping it back into the bag. “And I was planning to give it to you later, but uhm. Figured now was a better time.” 

“Why?” 

He shrugs. “Just wanted to say you got nothing to worry about.” He softly tosses the bag on your rumpled comforter before grabbing at your hips. “And that you looked hot as fuck at that dinner.” 

Shivers coat your body as you parry, “I wore the biggest coat I brought, are you kidding?”

“Nope.” 

Suspicion makes you hum, but you enjoy his compliments regardless. Even if he’s full of shit, his kindness never fails to heal wounds. “So…”

“Hmm.”

It seems like Yoongi’s done all he wanted to do. Running back the minutes in your mind, he’s managed to kiss the living crap out of you, show that you have nothing to be anxious about, given you a gift, and offered to take you back here on your own getaway trip.

What the hell is he still standing around for? He’s done more than enough, so he needs to get the hell out of here.

“You really came here to tell me all that?” 

“Yeah.” He snags your chin. “And to teach you a fucking lesson.” 

What.

What.

Slack-jawed, you rush out, “You aren’t serious—” 

“Dead serious.” 

You know exactly what Yoongi’s implying. But as much as you want nothing more, you can’t. There’s no way! 

“But—” 

Your brother is still very much awake, judging by the loud hip-hop beats bumping through the wall. 

You know it’s a slim chance he would even swing by your room. But still… 

“We can’t.” 

Yoongi grins at the panic you feel buzzing in your eyes. Grins! “Why not?”

“You know exactly why!” you whisper, grabbing him to kiss some sense into that reckless brain you love so much. 

He responds in kind, pushing into you and almost bending you backward. Releasing you with a pop, he asks, smug, “You want me to leave?” 

“Fuck no.” You bring him back in with more force, and your belly flips at his conceited chuckles. “But he’s next door.” 

“I know,” he rumbles. “So keep it the fuck down.” 

Goddamn it. The thrill of having him here while everyone is on this trip bursts your senses wide open, and you’re embarrassed that you’re the most turned on you’ve been in a minute. 

How the hell is that even possible? 

Is it the secrecy? The danger? The possibility of Yoongi getting his entire ass beat if you were caught? 

Fucking hell, it’s everything. And what makes it even worse is how stupidly attractive this man gets when he’s cocky. 

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you lead him straight back against the edge of your bed, and he grunts as his legs bump right into it. 

Shit, that was loud. Was it loud? Crap, you’re paranoid already.

With a sigh, you finally let go, hanging your head. “We can’t,” you repeat, breathless and more to yourself than to him. 

Because this little secret cannot be revealed. Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever since your brother would probably riot.

Yoongi lets you sit with your thoughts for a few seconds before relenting, “I can go, doll.” When you jet your head up, he offers a tiny squeeze of your arm. “If that’s what you want.” 

“Oh… No, I”—you gulp, not believing what’s coming out of your own mouth—“I want this.” 

His brow cocks up. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you affirm, face serious but stomach acting outright silly. “I wanna forget my own name.”  

“I can make that happen.” 

You don’t doubt that. He’s done it more than once before.

“But also…” Summoning courage from all angles, you place a firm hand on his chest. “Can I still be mad at you?” 

Yoongi falls completely silent for a moment, his stare incredulous and his chest stiff under your palm. 

Did his heart… beat harder there?

But he regains his voice before you question it further. His deep, sinfully low voice,

“Whatever you want, baby girl.” 

“Good.” You push him immediately, heart stammering when he falls onto your bed. “Because I wanna make you forget yours, too.” 

“Fuck.”

As soon as you pounce, Yoongi wastes no time in groping both cheeks of your ass, and you can’t help but squeak when he hauls you off to pin you down into the mattress. 

Air leaves you in a rush as he keeps up the offensive, bearing down on you as he lodges a tone thigh right against your cunt. Another mewl escapes before he clasps a hand around your mouth. 

When he speaks, it’s compressed thunder. And his words strike through you like lightning,

“As much as I wanna hear you, you better shut the fuck up, doll.” 

You hum into his palm, twisting your body to try and gain control again. But you find it’s no use as you thrust your chest into his, the slow rumbles of his conceited laughs all you receive. 

“So cute,” he coos into your ear, chuckling even lower when you whoosh out a grunt. “But you’re gonna wait your turn like a good girl.” 

“No!” you grit into his hand, moaning low when you feel fingers graze right over your cunt. 

When did he even move his leg! 

Yoongi shifts his head, bangs tickling the side of your neck when he questions, “No?” Shifting your shorts, he slips his fingers right underneath them and your panties, causing you to flinch right away. “Wanna try that again?” 

“N…” You breathe out of your nose, and quickly realize that he isn’t gonna move his fingers any longer unless you give in. 

…But why do it so easily?

You’ve spent the past twenty-four hours being pissed at the world—and this man to some degree—so why waste all the compressed energy making a warzone of your body?

Use it. Use it to make the most of the time you get this version of Yoongi to yourself.

Lifting one of your arms, you grab his palm to yank it away from your mouth before defying him a second time. 

“Make me,” you hiss, lifting your head to meet his lips. “Bitch.”

Everything happens at once.

Before you can blink, your arms are pinned above your head while large fingers lodge their way into your mouth. While you’re busy taking them in, there’s a dark, almost sinister vow trickling into your ear, and shivers coat every inch of your skin,

“You’re gonna wish you kept this pretty mouth shut.” 

Your reply is a gurgle, but he keeps going in, 

“Because you seem to think I’m not yours.” 

Wait. What? 

That’s the… That’s the lesson he’s gonna teach you?

“And I’m gonna fuck you until you get the point.”

Oh, fuck. He’s still pissed.

He may not tell you exactly how mad he really is, but you can tell he’s frustrated. And quite frankly, you would be too if your devotion was questioned.

Fuck. If you saw things from his side, you really would be upset. 

The twinge between your thighs rattles your entire lower body. Because he’s gonna tear you apart in the most beautiful way.

“Get up.” 

“What—” 

Yoongi hauls you upward, getting you out of the bed before bringing you to the other side of the bedroom. 

Huh? 

What’s he doing? Why is your mind a whirlwind right now? 

Silent but firm, he leads you to one of the armchairs in your room’s nook, sitting you down before giving a chaste kiss. After, he goes to your door to lock it, and you watch unblinking as he takes long strides back to you. 

You don’t know what the hell is going on.

But you literally cannot be more ready for it.

Unbuttoning one of his cuffs, Yoongi simply stands over you while explaining, 

“You’re gonna show me first.” 

“Huh?” 

He folds his sleeve inward before pushing it up his forearm. “How you get off.” 

Oh, god. 

God.

“Yoongi—” 

He uses a knee to spread one of your legs to the side, staring at your center that you know is already wetting straight through your bottoms.

When you stay silent, he proceeds to slip his other sleeve upward, cocking an impatient brow from above,

“Don’t make me wait.” 

Before you can respond, he walks away, moving towards a tall lamp standing in a corner of the dark room. As you wonder how he’s able to switch demeanors as quickly as a lightbulb, he flicks it on, shortly before taking comfortable residence in the armchair opposite you. 

You can only sit there, full of wonder and not knowing what the hell to do. 

Does he really have to spread his legs as wide as yours, though? 

Handsome asshole.

“You tappin’ out already?”

“Shove it,” you rush out, pouting with a beating heart when he leans his smug face on defined knuckles. 

Because whatever Yoongi’s plan is, this scenario? Is a dream. 

You’ve been wanting to do this for so long—longer than you’ll ever, ever divulge. All the nights you spent touching yourself imagining him watching from your desk, or even right beside you on the bed, whispering things that you will never admit that you thought of yourself. 

It doesn’t help that Yoongi looks like Sin.

So you bite your lip, the essence of time and possibility of someone knocking on your door spurning you into action. 

You reach down to stick your hand down your pants—

“Fuck that.” 

What?

Freezing, you watch his face, hardened and dark. 

“Who said you could go inside?”

“You said—”

“Uh uh.” He pins you with a fiendish curve. “Lemme see those pretty nails first.” 

Your senses don’t know what to do with themselves. 

How long has Yoongi been hiding this side of him? This demanding, uncompromising side that you wish you knew sooner? Why did he decide to bring it out during the most inappropriate time? 

Because it’s fucking hot, that’s why.

Not only that. It’s also reaching into you and unearthing parts that you wouldn’t dare show anyone else. If you were honest, you’re a bit frightened at the thoughts dripping into your mind, coalescing into a dark, wonderful pool. 

But those little scenarios can wait. Right now, you just want this so-called lesson to go as long as it possibly can.

Slowly, you rub yourself above your sweats, immediately understanding why he made you do this. 

You loathe this. Complete pleasure is miles away, and yet right there. 

Fucking hell, you’re already embarrassed at how sensitive you are. Will he force you to try and come this way? Is that even possible?

Well. You can’t truly rule anything out when it comes to him. 

Silently, you beg him to not let that be the case, already angry as if it was. 

Yoongi chuckles, and you can’t help but shudder at his low scratchy tone. 

“You mad?”

“Yes.” 

“Good. Stay that way.” 

You growl, throwing your head back and rubbing in aggravating circles, trying anything to get the friction your lust desires. Your mouth forms shapes until words fit through, and Yoongi responds to a plea you didn’t know you uttered,

“Please what?”

“Please…” You breathe harsh. “Lemme take them off.”

“Why should I?”

“Let me do it and I’ll show you.”

“Pass.”

“Fuck you,” you grit out, groaning in annoyance when he chuckles with little pity. 

If you had to guess what would happen on this trip before going, you would never have chosen anything close to this. Laid out on an armchair, shamefully rubbing yourself through your pants while your brother’s friend watches? What kind of fucking universe did you stumble into?

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

In your haze, you open bleary eyes and ask, “Huh?”

“Shirt off.” 

Shit. You didn’t even hear him. “But my pants—”

“Don’t care.” 

Oh, you hate this Yoongi. And you love how outright feral he’s making you feel. 

Fingers shaking, you raise your shirt up, and he hums when you reveal a braless chest.  

“All the way off,” he commands with gravel in his words, and groans in approval when you follow instructions.

When you fling the shirt towards him, he doesn’t move an inch as it reaches his shoes. 

And as he stares down at the material, something stirs in your belly, and you’re quick to wonder where any and all if this rebellion is coming from.

Maybe it’s the painfully obvious tent he has in his pants. Or the ravenous, subtly proud look in his eyes anytime you act out. 

Either way, you wanna ride this wave as far as it carries you. 

“Now what,” you bite, cunt throbbing as you keep trying to find euphoria through thick cotton. 

“Nothing until I say so.” 

“Please,” you beg, huffing hard from pleasure being kept at arm’s length. 

Why the hell is he taking his sweet time? He’s not even supposed to look at you for too long around your brother, and yet here he is fucking you with his eyes as you writhe in a chair. Doesn’t he know he’s on severely borrowed, stolen time?

“Please what?”

Breath ragged and chest heaving, you grunt, “You know what.” 

“I don’t,” he lies. “Tell me.” 

You’re gonna kick his ass. “Lemme take them off.” 

“No.” 

Fucking hell, you can’t take it anymore. Your core aches so hard it’s starting to coax tears, and you know that he’s fully aware and not doing a single thing about it. 

Screw it. You need this, you’re pissed, and you can be difficult, too. 

“Fine then.” Against his orders, you slip defiant fingers into the band of your pants.

“Careful.”

“Pass.” 

His whole face glowers as you offer a devilish expression of your own, slipping your hand right into your panties and rubbing exactly where you want to. 

Finally. 

Pleasure throws your head back as you grasp what you crave, and your ass slides to the edge of the cushion as your back arches taut. Lust shoots through you as you launch yourself into space, turned on by the fact he’s watching you out of all control. 

Are you already this close? How?

Why isn’t Yoongi—

As soon as you open your eyes, you come face to face with him, both of his arms caging you in on each armrest. 

And he looks delightfully pissed. 

Grabbing your wrist, he warns with thick anger, 

“Do that shit again and see what happens.” 

Honestly? You kinda want to. 

But you hear a sound, so your thoughts derail as you snap your head towards the door. 

Your chin is grabbed. “I’m watching, baby girl,” he whispers, making your head spin with how soft he suddenly became. With a passing thought, you just realized that he hadn’t even been using names until then. “Don’t worry.” 

You nod, and he lets you go, reverting back immediately,

“But since you wanna fuck yourself so bad, I might just head out anyway.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you hiss, moaning when your scalp is tugged back. 

“Then do as I say,” he orders, releasing you fast. “And take those off.” 

He doesn’t need to tell you that twice. 

Lip bitten, you stare up at him while slowly slipping off your pants, underwear coming off with them in a pile at your feet. 

As soon as they hit the ground, your legs are pried open again, and you whimper before he commands, 

“Who said you could stop?”

Fuck. 

Gulping, you feel strangely powerful despite being the one with no clothes on. Even though he’s the one towering over, you have a feeling he’s trying hard as fuck to keep himself in check. 

And it’s making you want him more than ever. 

So you continue fingering yourself, his stare chilly and warm at the same time on your bare skin. Your nipples pebble under his attention, and your whines fight through your pressed lips as you get closer and closer to climax.  

“Fuck, the things I wanna do to you,” Yoongi growls, his hand coming up to cradle your face. 

Looking up, you’re sure you look pitiful when you ask, but you can’t help it. “What things.” 

“Wanna fuck your throat.” You whimper into his palm before he sticks a thumb inside your mouth. “Paint this pretty face.” 

Holy fuck.

You moan as tiny as you can muster, cunt pulsing around your fingers and making your eyes roll up.

A snicker erupts before Yoongi smothers your saliva across your cheek, “What’s on your mind?” 

“You.” 

“What about me.” 

And you feel it. Your defiance. Coming out once more before you can even stop it, “Being put in your place—” 

Your throat is snatched in a dime, and you clench when he threatens, “Do it. You won’t.” 

Gurgling, you surprise both of you with a laugh. “I like it, you know,” you choke out, and he’s so confused that he unhands you. 

“Huh?” 

“When you’re mad,” you admit, fingers stopping in between your folds when Yoongi tilts his head with a cautious smile. 

Unprompted, he lets out a tiny laugh of his own. There’s a bit of worry in his voice when he checks in, “You okay, doll?” 

Huh?

Immediately, you assure him with knit brows. “What? Yeah, why?”

He leans down, and you’re regarding him with a strange look as he looks from one eye to the other. 

What’s he doing? Did you do something wrong? 

“Just thought I lost you for a sec,” he finally explains. “Which I would love to see, but not tonight.” 

See what? You’re thrown off guard for a second as you blink. “Oh. No, I really do just like making you mad.” 

He laughs before kissing your head. “I can see that. Punk ass.” When he lifts your chin again, he makes sure with a quiet, “You wanna keep going?”

You don’t know what he means about losing you, but he seems to be back in a comfortable state. And since you’re sure he’ll tell you more about it if you ask, you decide to leave that question for another time. Another night when there isn’t risk and danger right next door.

That knowledge is potent enough.

When you nod, Yoongi makes you answer him verbally, so you confirm, “I do, baby.” You sit up high to kiss him before assuring again, “Do your worst.” 

He immediately grins, shaking his head before slipping into a toe-curling smirk. “Nah,” he declines, winking when you pout. “Not like this.” 

Eyes wide, you wonder, “Are you really just gonna watch the whole time?”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel bad.” Staring at the hardness in his pants, you offer, “At least let me suck you off.”

He only tsks. “Have you earned that yet?”

“I dunno but I know you want it.” 

A tongue prods his cheek. “You’re too good at this.” 

Proud, your smile is wide in response. And you salivate when you hear the clinking of his belt, knowing he’s gonna be a menace during this part, too.

“On your knees then, baby girl.”

You slide off the chair, feeling all your essence between your legs as you sink to the ground. When he only unzips to free his cock, you groan at what appears in front of you, wanting it—needing it—to split you in two.

But you don’t think things will get to that point. This is already pushing the hell out of it, so him plowing you into next week is out of the question. 

This fact is probably why he decided to bring you to the chairs in the first place. That coupled with the fact that it’s on the further side of the room from his shared space with your brother. 

How can he think straight while you’ve been a mess? Your vast difference in experience hits you out of nowhere every time. 

“Go ahead then,” he taunts, and you snap out of your daze. “Let’s see it.”

Rolling your eyes, you internally bite back while taking his weight in your hand, licking his tip before taking him in. 

When he curses, you slide your gaze up his torso, reveling in the way he’s already shifting his jaw.

He’s gonna eat all of his words.

Sliding your mouth back and forth, you make a few passes before releasing him to spit, coating him with your saliva before going again. With your other fingers busy on your clit, you feel the dirtiest you’ve felt in a long time.

And you love it. 

“Fuck, doll.” 

You preen, taking more of him in each time and pumping his base with equal rhythm. You lodge wet digits into yourself the same way, and imagining him both in your guts and in your mouth drives you to the very edge.

Fuck, you really are about to come like thi—

“Hands off,” he says out of nowhere, and you pause for him to clarify, “On your thighs.” 

Wait, no! “But I’m—”

“Now.” 

Fucking hell! 

You know he’s enjoying making you mad, too. There’s no way he’s not having the time of his life. 

When you plant wet palms on your legs, you keep sucking him off, realizing that this is just as hot as what you were doing before. Fuck.

But he takes his cock out with a pop, smacking your cheek before sliding it back into your mouth. As you let out a high whine, he praises,

“So cute like this.” He doesn’t explain further, but falters with a moan before laughing to himself. “Hustling the shit out of me.”

Mouth stuffed, you can only hum in reply. Which only makes him fold forward and curse under his breath. 

Your fingers dig into your thighs, wanting to pleasure both you and him instead of being useless. It’s taking all of you to follow orders while your cunt is throbbing impossibly hard. 

And he finally reaches to fondle your tits to push you over the edge that knock was on your door. 

Wait.

That knock was on your door. 

“You in there?”

And that’s your brother oh FUCK!

While you rush up to stand, Yoongi’s already shoving clothes into your hands and moving away in a flash, and you’re mortified and wondering where he should hide. 

Hide! Like some high schoolers! 

Panicked, you tremble as you attempt to dress, letting the blare of the television respond to your sibling instead. 

Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Yoongi’s done for you’re in deep shit this trip is gonna go sideways real quick. 

When you look his way, he’s already next to your bed on the other side of the room, not moving to open the sliding door. 

What is he doing?

“Did you leave?” 

Talk, for heaven’s sake! “N—No, hold up!” 

“Okay, thought so. Hurry up!”

When you shake your head at Yoongi, all he does is try to smother a cheeky grin—which you immediately reject with a swat down of your hand. 

What the fuck is he thinking! 

Never mind that. You don’t have time for this because your room smells like arousal and cologne and it’s not subtle in the least.

Dashing to your bathroom, you come up with the stupidest plan and hope to every higher power that it works. 

“Are you taking a shit?”

Oh, god. Grabbing perfume, you yell out, “No, just wait! Goddamn!”

“God, you always take so fucking long.” 

When you pop back into your bedroom, you catch Yoongi pinning you with amusement, almost telling him to shut up out loud. 

Why the fuck does he look so hot you need to focus! 

You point down with force, signaling for him to duck behind the other side of your bed as low as he can. Cursed with a frenzied brain and throbbing core, you spray an ungodly amount of perfume while speeding around the room. 

Chairs, bed, air, neck, tv for no reason, chairs again good enough just get the door.

“I swear if you’re hiding something—” 

You pull the entrance open with a yank, pursing your lips and wondering how you’re gonna send him away. 

But his brows pinch instantly. “Damn, what’s up with the face?” 

Shit, you probably look like a trainwreck. What the hell do you say? Certainly not that you were just sucking off his best friend that’s still very much in the room oh god.

“I was watching something.” 

When he cocks a brow, you figure he doesn’t know what to say to that. Whatever. It’s fine as long as he doesn’t suspect anything—

“Lemme in.” 

“Why?” 

“If you checked your phone, you would know.” He scoffs before moving his way into the doorframe, quickly ignoring your protest. “It’ll just take a sec.” 

You’re too horrified to realize that he doesn’t even take two steps before swatting the air with his free hand. “The fuck? Did you just put on perfume?” 

“Yeah,” you stare with hesitance, trying damn hard to not glance towards a certain hiding place. “Don’t want you judging if it doesn’t smell all nice.” 

“Since when have I ever judged your room? Fuck, turn the TV down.” 

Is Yoongi on the ground next to the bed? Or did he somehow fit under? There’s a small chance your brother will even look there but if he does and Yoongi’s visible you’re gonna perish.

Grabbing the remote with eyes unfocused, you simply retort, “You judge everything.” 

“Touché. But you’re good at this stuff so I need an opinion.” 

Oh, fuck. He’s sitting on your mattress? 

Ironically—hilariously—that’s better than him sitting on one of the armchairs.

Fucking hell, you’re gonna need ten medics. 

As you feel like sinking right through the floor, your sibling opens the laptop settled on his legs. Eyes glued to the screen, he beckons, “Look real quick.” 

Just do it. Don’t act like there’s anything wrong. Don’t give away the fact that he’s severely close to his friend, or the fact that your cunt is throbbing so hard it’s starting to pang.

Body twinging with guilt and paranoia, you gingerly sit just close enough to him, leaning away when you see nothing but the Sun on his computer. “Dude, the brightness.” 

“Sorry. I got all the lights on next door.” 

“And you say my TV habits are to blame for our house bill.” 

“Damn, chill! Okay, so did I do this right?” 

You tilt your head and look where he’s pointing: one chart amongst a smattering of graphs and analytics. “What are you trying to show?”

“Correlation between quarterly earnings and model type.” 

“I mean, that seems pretty straightforward to me.” 

“Yes and no. We’re trying to gauge whether the newer shoe designs have the same longevity.”

Impossible. He should know the answer to that already. “Nothing will beat the OGs.” 

“I know,” he laughs. “Dunks are fucking untouchable right now.” 

“Right? Yoongi has like, fifty pairs.” 

“Huh?” 

Shit. 

“How’d you know?”

Fuck fuck fuck. 

Grasping for a ledge to latch onto, you remind him mid-freefall, “Bro, we give him two pairs every year. You haven’t noticed him wearing ones for every fit he has?” 

It’s not true. Well, the first part is true since your brother gets special privileges, being able to gift Yoongi an exclusive pair for every birthday and special holiday. 

But there’s no way the man wears enough to warrant you saying fifty. 

…Make that twelve medics. 

Your sibling is too quiet for comfort, but he ends up taking the bait. “I mean, maybe. Didn’t expect you to mention him is all.” He moves the cursor on the screen before thinking aloud, “Speaking of, I need to see if he ended up fu—” 

“It looks fine,” you interject. “Data is sound, but I would at least make a comparison with some of the older models around their same length of release.” 

“Good callout.” 

You’re glad that he’s a man of efficiency, because he moves to head out as soon as his question is answered. 

In fact, when you follow him to the door, it’s your curiosity that keeps him a bit longer. “Wait, why are you in charge of this? Isn’t your department…” 

“Yeah, it’s bullshit, dude,” he complains with a shut of his laptop. Nestling it against his hoodie, he explains, “But my partner is out sick, so I figured this would help.” 

Gotta hand it to your brother to be there if you need him. “That’s… really nice of you. Is this why you didn’t go with them?” 

He rubs his neck, a gesture you’ve been very familiar with for years. One he always does when he’s afraid to admit something. “Kinda. It’s due in the morning, but. I knew you weren’t doing anything, either.”

“Ah.” 

“I mean, this trip is cool and all, but holidays aren’t really…” 

“Our thing. Yeah.” 

As he mirrors your melancholic features, he gives a closed smile with no cheer. “Well, thanks anyway. I’ll leave you alone now.” 

“Go to sleep, dude. You’re pretty much done.” 

“Still need to make sure they all get back in one piece.” 

What? Why does he always take on everything alone? “I’ll stay up,” you offer. “You’re exhausted. Just sleep and send that thing in tomorrow.” 

After a moment of contemplation, he surprisingly relents with a yawn and a nod, and you wonder if he’ll follow through. 

For your own sanity, you hope he does. “Night.” You got through this surprise interruption unscathed, so if he would just go to sleep then everything will be—

“Wait.” 

“Huh?” 

“Your shades are open.” 

Spinning, you notice with fear that the curtains are still pulled to the side. Something both you and Yoongi must not have noticed in your haste. 

Oh. 

That’s right next to your bed. 

If Yoongi’s on the ground—

As your brother strides over, you try to stop him, “It’s fine!” 

He frowns over his shoulder. “What? No. You don’t want people creepin’ on you.” 

Your heart can’t keep a rhythm as he reaches the sliding door, pulling the curtains closed before glancing at the space next to your bed. 

What… What’s happening? Why’s he just standing there?

Voice tight, you ask, “You good?” 

“Yeah, I’m good…” Looking at you, he questions with a point, “When did you get that?”

You freeze, your heart pounding when you realize that Yoongi didn’t grab the jewelry pouch resting on the mattress. 

Upping the number of medics you need to fifteen, you flounder, 

“I— Got something at the jeweler.” Lamely waving one hand in the air, you feign normalcy as you just tell the truth. “When we all went together.” 

“You did?” He mercifully moves away from your bed then, heading back past you and towards your door. “Should’ve told me. I wanted to get something, too.” 

“It was a last second thing,” you tack on with a cringe, attempting to appear merely playful and not like your soul is leaving your mortal confines. 

“Ah, k. Well, I’m thinking of grabbing that Octomore I saw at the liquor store anyway. I can’t find it back home.” He finally makes his way to the exit, grabbing the knob with his free hand. “See you tomorrow.”

He closes the door with a soft click after you say goodbye.

And you let out the biggest breath you’ve ever held.

Holy shit. 

That was fucking close.

There’s no way he couldn’t hear your heartbeat bumping against your chest, right? Or did your body just give up entirely and flatline that entire time? 

“You talk about me like that?” 

Fliching, you clutch your chest before swerving around to battle Yoongi’s smugness with a glare. “You wish,” you whisper with bite, heart palpitations shaking your words on the way out. 

“Now I wanna know.” 

“Shut up.” Damn, your cunt really aches now with the adrenaline fading, and your face finally falters when you lean forward. “Fuck.” 

Yoongi’s there before you can blink, fully concerned. “What’s wrong?” 

“It hurts, baby,” you whimper. “I need you.” 

When he understands, a low curse shoots out. “Fuck, my condoms are in the room.”

“I have some.”

His eyebrows ascend. “You do?”

“Yeah,” you admit as you walk over to your suitcase. “Just in case we got to… Yeah.” 

“Same.”

You grab a packet from a hidden pouch before tossing it, and Yoongi catches it with ease before asking low, “You sure, babe?”

In return, you nod, because the ache is so overwhelming that you can’t think straight. All you need is the man next to the bed stripping quick, and you follow suit until he interrupts you with a soul-snatching kiss. 

Your hands are frantic as they grip his chest, his shoulders, the base of his hair. Breathing takes a backseat as you keep claiming his mouth, and he’s just as possessive with your lips as he grunts into your throat. 

“We gotta keep it down.”

“Mmhmm.” 

“Good girl.” 

After you slip into the bed, he’s close behind, kneeling while finally wrapping himself with deft fingers. 

Your body is thrumming with excitement as he positions himself between your legs, feeling comfort in his bare skin on yours while he pulls the covers over his back. 

A thought occurs to you as he whispers, “You ready?” 

And it’s how you can be anywhere in the world, in any situation, and yet feel so at home if he’s there. “Just for you,” you whisper, suddenly overcome with something more than yourself. 

He nods before reaching down, grabbing his cock to slide along your folds. “Breathe for me.” 

You nod, face scrunching as soon as he enters. 

As soon as Yoongi senses your discomfort, he stops, instead sliding fingers along your cunt before rubbing your swollen bud. 

“Missed you,” he admits, and you agree with your eyes as you fight back a moan. “So fucking much.” 

“Me, too.” You close fingers around his flexed biceps. “And I messed it all up.” 

You don’t really refer to anything specific. Because in your mind, you just messed things up in general. But Yoongi slowly shakes his head as he claims your lips, pleasuring your folds with a tenderness that blows your mind. 

“None of that,” he murmurs, and you swallow as he moves to insert his cock once more. 

You noticed with admiration that it’s much less of an intrusion this time, him slotting into your center with more ease and almost instant relief for your pulses. 

And just like that. 

He’s inside you. 

And your brother is right next door. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper, inexplicably on the verge of heightened euphoria already. “I’m—”

“Holy fuck.” 

“Yoongi, I—” You’re gonna come already. What the fuck you’re already gonna come? You knew you needed him to ease the ache but you didn’t expect just his ridges resting in your folds to be all it would take. 

“Doll—” 

“Hey!” 

Chills run through your veins, icing your heart over in one swoop. 

Because that was your brother. 

Yelling with a knock from the other side of the goddamn wall. 

…Did he hear you?

The universe can swallow you now.

Petrified and with one foot in the grave, you lock eyes with a Yoongi caught just as off-guard. 

What do you do? What do you do what do you do what do you do?

Blood sucked from every inch of your body, you simply yell back to your ceiling, 

“Yeah…?” 

“Getting food! You want anything?” 

Oh, what the fuck.

You’ve never experienced a more frightening rollercoaster. 

Relief is both fast and yet not enough to calm your racing heartbeat. Trying not to look at Yoongi’s growing grin you can absolutely sense, you shout, “No, I’m good!” 

“K!” 

Holy fuck. 

What in the fuck is happening right now!

“Seriously, check your phone once in awhile, geez.” 

“Good night!” you holler back in response, hoping, praying, begging that it’s the end of a conversation you never, ever wanna have again. 

When you think you hear your brother shut his door, your eyes finally seek Yoongi, who indeed breaks into a shit grin while you try your absolute hardest not to laugh in utter disbelief. 

Because what the fuck just happened! 

“Oh, my god,” you whisper before covering your wild smile with both hands, one laugh escaping your throat. 

Yoongi has to bury his head into your chest to stifle his own, and his body shakes over yours so deliciously that you feel like staying in this position forever.  

You almost cry from your muffled laughter, but it’s Yoongi that makes the next sound. 

And it is not quiet. 

“Baby,” you warn through your grin, and he digs his face deep into your neck while holding you close.

“Stop being so fucking cute,” he groans into your ear. “I might not make it, doll.” 

“Just stay like that.” 

“Uh uh.” He grunts when you laugh again, and he slightly breaks. “This is worse.”

When you chuckle at his predicament, he groans,

“Fuck.” 

“I’m not even doing anything!” you whisper with a smile, and he thoroughly disagrees with despair.

“Yes, you fucking are.”

You think you’re starting to get what he means, because with one twitch of his length, your jaw goes slack. “This—this feels really good.” 

He hisses before breathing onto your skin. “I’m gonna bust if I don’t move.” 

“Just a—little longer,” you gasp, straining your ears to hear any sounds from downstairs.

All you have to hear is the front door close. Once you hear that, you know the coast is clear and Yoongi can teach you all the lessons he wants. 

But holy fuck, this feels fantastic. 

“Babe—” 

“Hold—Hold on,” you breathe, your cunt thrumming around him with pulses so big you have to physically block yourself from coming. After being pulled back from orgasm multiple times tonight, the ache is once again making you crumble. 

But you hear it. 

The front door opening. 

Shutting after a few dreadful seconds. 

And Yoongi breaks down beautifully when you give him the tiniest go-ahead. 

“Fucking finally.” 

The way he rocks into you makes you moan so erotically that even you’re surprised at the sound, your whole body shoved up the bed and an arm flinging back to press against the headboard.  

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, body bouncing with his insistent strokes as he sets the pace at one-hundred from the start. 

And you don’t blame him in the slightest, widening your legs to give him all the room he needs to wreck your shit, eyes shut in bliss as you hand over control. 

When hot lips close over a nipple, you arch up with a whine, and his hands come around your sides to claw love lines in your back. 

“So fucking nice,” he growls, before sliding a tongue to your other breast, licking in a way that has you zooming to the edge of paradise. 

You’re close. You’re already so close and it’s gonna break you into pieces. “Yoongi!” 

And he seems to sense it because he coaxes you straight through to the end. “That’s it, doll,” he guides, spearing so far into you with his last command, 

“Fucking come.” 

And come you do, light shooting across your vision as your entire body finally erupts, quivering so beautifully violent underneath him. Nothing exists except how you feel—infinite, limitless, fulfilled. Colors fill where the brightness reigned, and you’re quite sure you’re sailing across a vast ocean of spinning stars. 

But your vision slowly returns, with blurred lines and an image of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

No. Not an image. 

Someone very real, and someone looking at you like they want nothing else. 

“Baby,” you plead, feeling the lust and desire and something even more dangerous rise back to the surface. Because you want more. You need more. “I want… I want—” 

He kisses you deep, and you grip onto his chains. “What do you want, love.” 

“You. Fuck me. Teach me. Do what you want, just”—you pull him in—“I need this—”

Your arms are gripped before they’re pinned above your head just like before, and Yoongi wastes no time in thrusting forward, claiming your lips before you let out a sob. 

His strokes are much harder, much rougher, and they’re exactly what you want. You don’t know when the hell your brother is coming back, so you want to make the most of whatever time you have. And this is exactly what you need. 

Sparks alight in your bones, you tug on his hair, grunting his name and suddenly clamping onto his hips like a vice. 

And he moans in a higher pitch before hissing, surprising you with a goad, 

“Just like that.” 

“Huh?”

“Tug on my shit,” he grits, humming with eyes shut when you yank his head to the side. “Fuck.” 

You’ve forgotten how much he actually likes that, since you apparently go for his hair regularly anyway. But you make it a point to pleasure another part of him, pulling him close and choking him with your other hand.

“More,” you command in his ear, and wings batter your stomach when his curve goes lopsided and his cock twitches in your cunt. 

“Turn around.” 

You groan in want, straining to flip when his cock slips out of your pulsing folds. When your ass comes around, you buck forward with a moan when there’s a sudden bloom of pain. And you whine to the headboard when Yoongi does it again. 

“This fucking ass.” 

You bury your face in the pillows when he takes your cheeks in large palms, molding them before pushing them apart to reveal a view that would make you incredibly shy. 

He lets out a half-grunt, half-hum as he grips your hips, hoisting them up before he grabs a pillow to slide under your belly. When you wiggle your ass, he huffs before slapping his cock against your folds, sliding inside with a frustrated sounding groan.

Pride bursts in your chest when you hear that. Because you’ve heard that one before, and it’s not true frustration. In fact, you’ve let that one out yourself—when you can’t fucking wait to get this man alone. 

Yoongi digs strong fingers into the folds at your hips, and you only get one warning in four words, 

“Bite that fucking pillow.” 

Your teeth close around the case for a single second before you’re open-mouthed, stroke after stroke after stroke making you a useless mess on rented sheets. You don’t even know if you’re saying your thoughts out loud or not, but they’re gibberish anyway, broken syllables and a repeating of his name—over and over and over again. 

Suddenly, a hand closes around your mouth, and Yoongi’s chains slide along your back when he hisses in your ear, 

“The fuck did I say?” 

You let out a high hum in response, completely forgetting that you had one job and you failed at it. But the way he still hasn’t stopped ramming into you makes you crumble on the bed, and you revel in this position of him folding you back and shutting you the fuck up. 

Your mouth is freed before your head is pushed down, and your teeth know what to do as you go straight for the pillowcase, your hand coming up to bunch more of the material inside—

Wait what’s—what’s he—oh, fuck! 

Before you know it, your hands are snatched up, pinned against your back as he launches into a furious pace. “Mmm!” 

“Teach you to think I’m not yours.” 

“B—”

“As if I don’t wanna give you my shit—”

“Fu—!” 

“—so you can walk around everywhere with it on.” 

You scream into the pillowcase, arms thumping onto the bed when he mercifully lets your hands go. Immediately, you brace yourself with sore arms while he tugs on your shoulder, bending you back again and showering you with praise. Like how you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, and how you’re taking his dick so well. 

You also have praise for him, but you’re very sure yours will come out as screams if you so much as let up off the cloth material. So you can only whine into cotton, tears streaming down your face in rivers. 

The point. You get it. You get it you get it you understand it so fucking well. 

Apparently, this is something you do say out loud, because you’re released back onto the mattress before Yoongi yanks himself out of your throbbing folds. 

Your body is being turned while your eyes struggle to refocus, drool sliding down your chin as you lay flat on your back again. But you can’t do anything about it because he’s already kissing the shit out of you, one hand on your head and the other forearm making a crater out of the mattress at your side. 

You look like a wreck, but your emotions fare far worse. 

Because Yoongi decides to switch up the pace, going slow enough to make you sob into soft lips rubbed raw.

Praise, reassurance, more praise. All of these things fall on your features and into your ears, and you hold onto him as if he’s your last lifeline. 

“God, I can’t wait to feel all of you.” 

And that’s when you break completely, knowing that your eyes are closed and knowing that he’s kissing you deep but seeing him and hearing him so clearly. 

You can’t believe you ever doubted him. A whole two days’ worth of self-loathing and regret floods out of your eyes, and your apologies come out in streams.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s on me.”

No, it’s not. All you had to do was ask. You didn’t need to assume shit and there’s no way he could’ve known what you felt unless you told him. 

When you give a vigorous shake of your head, fingers you adore clasp yours, and your hand is pressed into rumpled sheets next to your wet cheek. You’re so caught up and entirely whole that you don’t even realize where you end and he begins, don’t even register that you’re coming again because he’s already made you feel that fantastic. 

But he moans against your mouth before you feel his weight bear down on your chest, and you gently command into his damp strands, 

“Come for me, love.” 

At your whisper, Yoongi relinquishes, coming with force with a bite to your neck—as if that alone would brace himself against the torrent in his own core. Strong arms encase you as he shoves himself inside, and you feel the way he pulses again, and again. And again.

Then everything suspends in the night air. 

When he floats down from his high, his weight is a beautiful burden, and you nestle him into your sweaty chest. Not worried yet about when or how he has to leave, but instead showing him your feelings by running fingers through his hair.

Throat scratched, he tells you that he’s sorry, too.

To which you soothe with a soft, “Don’t be.”

Because you revealed a wound that still hasn’t healed, and he didn’t back away at the sight of it. Instead, he was only upset that it was there in the first place, and proceeded to try and fix it as best as he could.

Who does that? 

Certainly not someone that would hurt you, too.

Yoongi slowly props himself on an elbow to smooth a hand over your tired head. And even though his eyes twinkle with words, he doesn’t utter a single one. 

So neither do you, simply gazing up at your favorite stars and wondering how their beholder outshines every moon. 

“You did so well for me earlier, you know,” he finally says with admiration. “No way you’ve never done that before.”

You simply shake your head, eyes droopy but creased when he smirks in disbelief. 

“What are you doing to me?”

You wearily chuckle before playing with one of his chains, happily reminded that he really got you jewelry, too. 

“Please stay a little longer,” you wish in a wisp. 

And you feel comfort in his surefire, “I will.”

After a quiet, careful cleanup, Yoongi holds you close while you both listen to your TV in bed. 

Your brother had come back while you were both in the bathroom, and the two of you only looked at each other when you heard the next door over close. 

A hushed conversation determined that Yoongi would only stay for a few more minutes, but neither of you bring it up when a whole seventeen of them fly by. 

Instead, he tells you that he knew your brother didn’t do holidays, but he didn’t know you felt the same way about them, too.

You say it’s one of the things you have most in common, but you do kinda want things to be different. Happier. Very much unlike how you felt over the last eight years or so.

“I want them to be memorable in a good way,” you sigh into his bare chest. Content, you realize, “Guess this is a pretty great start.”

Your shoulder is squeezed before you hear a rasp, “Sit up real quick.” 

“Hmm?” When you push yourself upward, Yoongi slowly situates himself against the headboard, and you don’t know where this is… headed… 

He just took off a chain.

“Wait, what are you…” Butterflies fluttering against your ribcage, your breath catches when he drops it into your hand. 

“Keep it.” 

Feeling his warmth lingering on the thin links, you question with everything you have, “…Why?” 

Yoongi simply shrugs. “Just something I wanted to give you a long time ago.” 

“But you already gave me that necklace,” you stutter out, “And apparently went through all that trouble.” 

“Trust me,” he counters, pointing while still planting his hand on the mattress. “You gave me a lot more trouble right before I put that on you the first time.” 

Oh. 

Remembering the night you took him by surprise, you definitely agree with that. 

Speaking of surprises.

“I, umm. I have something for you, too.” 

He blinks twice. “No way?”

Nodding, your smile is big when you slip out of bed, going into your bag and getting out the one thing you bought so far. 

When you hand Yoongi a very familiar pouch, you watch with glee as he opens it, hoping that he’ll like the bracelet with links similar to most of his chains. 

With warmth in your chest, you notice that it best matches the one he just gave you. 

“You weren’t the only one that bought something,” you admit as he looks at you with incredulity. “I, umm. I saw you looking at that and grabbed it. Before we all left that day.” 

“You did that? For me?” 

With just a touch of sorrow, you confess, “I almost kept it for myself after all the… Yeah. But it’s yours. If you want it. Obviously, you can return it if you—” 

He kisses your cheek before whispering, “Thanks, doll.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“I used to have one like this.” 

“What happened to it?” 

He lays it on his fingers while recalling, voice low, “Think it got stolen. But it’s all good.” 

“If someone steals that one I’m coming for them.” 

A huff. “I wanna see that.” 

“Hey now. This wasn’t cheap, punk.” You gently take his wrist, putting on the bracelet as well as you can with your nails—and shushing his playful roasting when you struggle. When you finally clasp it on, you hold up his arm with a smile. “Look! Now we match.” 

He looks at you with eyes that give you the shivers, his expression one that you wanna sear into your memories forever.

And you can’t believe you’ve been so stupid. “I really am sorry,” you apologize with a heavy heart, cradling his fingers in yours. “I should’ve just trusted you.”

“I get why you don’t.”

Your chest pangs as you close your hold. “Stop. I’ll work on it. Okay?” 

“Me, too.”

This man doesn’t need to be bogged down by what affected you before. Besides, he’s miles above whatever quicksand you found yourself in the last time, so there’s not even a reason to compare.

You can do it. If you can try thinking differently about the holidays, maybe this can be dealt with the same way.

Especially with Yoongi. 

…As long as you can keep whatever this is with him up.

It’s reached that point: the one where you both know a line is approaching and you can’t pass it. 

He’s gonna have to leave soon.

So you hold his hand tighter before both of you peel off the covers, getting up and slowly making your way to the door with his lips secured on yours.

“You okay?” he asks when he grabs his dress shirt to sling on, and when you nod, he nods his head before looking at his buttoning.

You watch, silent, as he puts the rest of his things on, wondering if he expected things to go this way. Because you certainly didn’t, and you couldn’t be happier. 

After all, you got to see a side of Yoongi that you had never seen before. Seeing him take complete control, painting his face even darker shades, watching as enjoyed your reactions…

Wait a minute. 

Hold on a dang second!

Eyes narrowed, you pin him with a glare as he finally finishes putting on his shoes. “Hey, wait…” 

“Huh?”

“You wanted to teach me that you were mine… But I never even got my turn. Shouldn’t we have started with me?” 

Oh, that sneaky man.

He grins so smug that you wanna wipe the whole curve off his face, and his wink makes you gasp before whispering in indignation,

“You little—!”

When he bobs his shoulders in quiet mirth, he enjoys the tiny pout you give. “It wouldn’t’ve lasted long anyway.”

“Now you’re just rude.” 

His lip bite is so handsome that you almost miss the dash of shyness. 

Or was that your imagination?

“Maybe next time, doll.”

Ugh. You huff. “Fine.”

Yoongi slides the door open before checking outside. When the area seems to be clear, he turns to give you a quick kiss before making his great escape, and you watch with awe as he silently makes his way down. 

And to think this is the same guy you had heard stories about back then. Behavior as lethal and punchy as a shot of whiskey but his head matured like fine wine.

You slide the door shut with your head full of thoughts.

Eyes going from the chain in your hand, to the wall that separates you from your brother, you suddenly come up with an idea. 

“What did he want again?”

“I think he said Octo-something,” you wonder to yourself, scouring the liquor bottles in front of you while Namjoon and Seokjin search with equal movements.

With all of your big coats taking up the tiny local store, you muse that it may look a bit silly. Or intimidating. Or both.

“He said Octomore,” Yoongi corrects from a few paces away. And your blood runs cold at Jimin’s glance behind him before he smoothly adds, “Pretty sure he would’ve said that, anyway.”

All the medics. You’re just gonna need all of them.

“That’s it,” you concur before letting out a huff. “There are so many bottles, what the hell?”

Namjoon suddenly straightens and leans to the side. “Wait, that’s a scotch, right, Yoongi?” 

“Yeah.”

“Oh, then why are we—” Your eyes follow as the man strides down to the front of the aisle, checking the signs before spotting what he needed to. “Over here!”

Everyone follows him to the shelves labeled Scotch, with Jimin breaking off to see what Taehyung’s looking at under the Wine sign.

If they buy a bottle, there’s no way it’s not finished by the afternoon. 

Once in the correct place, you notice that there are three Octomore choices, all black or grey cylinders with neat branding. 

Great. 

Seokjin’s quick to ask, “Well, which one?” 

“Hmm.” You think hard about what your brother mentioned before, and finally remember after a few seconds, “He didn’t say, but he said he can’t find it back home.”

Yoongi suddenly rotates one of the containers before his question is full of surprise, “They have this here?” 

“What is that?”

“The twelve point two.” He doesn’t elaborate, but his eyes are confident. “It’s this one.” 

“If you’re sure. How much is it?”

“Too much. But we’ll split it like you said.”

“Okay. Let’s hurry so Hobi doesn’t have the car running too long.”

“K.”

When you both leave the aisle first, you miss the look that Jin shares with Namjoon. 

Your brother’s yell is already worth it.

“What! When did y’all get this?”

“When you and Kook were still snoring.”

“Hey, I don’t snore!”

You speak up while an argument suddenly bursts, “You said something about it last night, and I figured, why the hell not? Eight years is long enough to go without a real gift.”

“But how did you know which one?”

“You can’t find that one anywhere,” Yoongi fills in, and your brother smiles at him before looking down at the bottle with soft eyes. 

“Damn. Thank you.”

“You wanna open it? We can all try some.”

You’re met with laughs from both guys, and they give each other a knowing look before your brother shakes his head.

“Y’all would hate this.”

“Really? Why?”

“You know what they say,” he shrugs, going to the kitchen island before popping open the can. “About fucking around and finding out.” 

Something about that statement makes you hot under your cheeks, and you contain your mischievous smile as you slide eyes to Yoongi. 

Who, unsurprisingly, is fighting back a look of his own.

“Will I really hate it?” you question him as the conversation in the living room fills into the kitchen. 

He shrugs. “It’s all subjective, but. You’ll see.”

And see you do three minutes later, with you wincing and coughing as soon as you sip. 

It tastes like nothing you’ve ever drank before. Why are you tasting rubbing alcohol and firewood? Why are you licking a dying campfire with fruit splattered on top?

You must look thoroughly disgusted because everyone is suddenly laughing, and you slowly shake your head before handing the glass to your brother.

“Worst gift ever,” you insult through a wince, getting more reactions and bobbing shoulders.

“Best gift ever.” Your brother sniffs the scotch before humming. “So good.”

“Well, as long as you’re happy.”

When he looks grateful, you think this can be the new tradition instead: him getting a shitty whiskey and you telling him how horrible his taste is. 

And maybe. Just maybe.

You and Yoongi can stand much closer next season.

You still cannot believe last night happened with no repercussions. After a full last day of the trip, you’re still expecting something to blow. But nothing does. 

However. 

When everyone is enjoying the dinner that Yoongi helped Seokjin cook, Taehyung goes to lean on the wall beside you, voice low as he holds his plate, 

“Heard you had some happy holidays after all.”

Watching the other boys chat and laugh around the living room, you shrug before feigning a sigh. “I mean, as much as I could.” Turning, you apologize, “Sorry about your leg, by the way.” 

He laughs under his breath, and you shoot him a look before his smile turns sly. 

“Don’t even worry about that.”

And your heart stops as he goes to whisper in your ear,

“Jimin and I came back when your brother left. You thought he left you in the house alone?”

You freeze.

The front door.

That’s why it took awhile to close.

Your best friend sounds downright devious as he speaks again, and you can positively say you’ve never heard him like this before, 

“I gotta say… I get it, babe.” 

He smirks while looking away.

“Y’all sound fucking hot in bed.” 

-

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fin. :) 

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how was ittt !! 💌 would you like to buy me a 🍊?

A/N: AHAHAHA SO... how did it go? how did the special that shouldn’t have ever happened turn out? lmfao i really hope you all liked this one. if not, i am so so sorry and you can yell at me. if you liked it, yell at everyone that sent in messages about the window scenario including window anon pfft. also, nicki got the gift of his chains right !! also octomore 12.2 is really desserty!  A/N 2: made a separate blog just for 3tan if you wanna follow @threetangerines​ <3 it’s 3tan unfiltered, so any absolutely filthy asks you would like to send, go ahead and let loose over there! also, the kofi is for any support you would like :D pls don’t feel pressured unless you truly wanna support me in that way and if you’re in a good position to. i appreciate anything i receive there!  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist 

[kingofbodyrolls]

Christmas at Lissa’s 🎁

🎄✨ I’m back, my wonderful friends! And what better way to celebrate the season of giving than to share an early gift with you—or rather, a shimmering glimpse of your Christmas surprise, lovingly wrapped from me to you. 🎁✨

The air is crisp with holiday magic, and you know how much I cherish spreading joy, warmth, and cheer. So, as the twinkle of inspiration found its way back into my heart, I knew I had to craft something special—something that whispers the enchantment of the Christmas stories I’ve cherished for years. This year, I’m delighted to present my own little Christmas event, a celebration of tales both familiar and new.

Within this holiday collection, you’ll find a mix of cozy extras from beloved stories and fresh adventures that glitter with festive wonder. And for even more holiday delight, I’m also hosting a Christmas Rec Event (Lissa’s 25 Days of Christmas) + (Bangtan Christmas), brimming with treasures to share.

So come along, dear friends, and let’s make this holiday season unforgettable. Together, we’ll unwrap the magic of stories, sharing laughter, love, and joy with every page. 💜✨ 

Let’s read, dream, and sprinkle the world with holiday cheer!

Since today is my birthday, I wanted to give you this little present, even though I still need to finish writing the last story (but it’s like ¼ done 🤭).

🎄Doughn’t Go Baking My Heart // Seokjin // enemies to lovers + romance // 16.4k 🎁 This Christmas season, you’re back in the kitchen, whisk in hand and determination in your heart, entering the annual holiday baking competition once again. The goal? Finally beat your long-time rival, the infuriatingly talented Kim Seokjin. But as the ovens warm and the ingredients come together, you realize it might not be just the doughs rising this year… Will the holiday spirit bring you closer, or will the heat of competition drive you further apart? 😜 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [JINtastic subreddit] 🎁 Release date: 4th of December 2024 [link coming soon]

🎄 Perfect Strangers // Hoseok // fake dating + romance // 19.6k 🎁 When a man as warm as a crackling hearth steps into your cozy bookstore seeking the perfect gift for his friend’s Christmas party, you can’t help but offer him your brightest smile. But when he returns days later, with a spark in his eye and a bold request—to be his pretend girlfriend for this very party—you think, Why not? After all, Christmas is a time for a little magic, a little whimsy. Yet as you step deeper into his world, you discover a heart weighed down by scars from the past, a man more complex than the merry mask he wears. Still, what’s Christmas without a little hope, a touch of wonder, and a heart ready to spread the joy it knows so well? 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [text messages between Namjoon and MC] 🎁 Release date: 9th of December 2024 [link coming soon]

🎄Coming Home to You // Jimin // thriller + comfort // 11.7k 🎁 It’s been five years since Hyun was arrested, and you’ve done a lot of healing to get where you are in life; married, finally opening your very own yoga studio. But when the shadows come crawling back, and old memories resurface, will Christmas be ruined? 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [MC’s text messages to Jimin] 🎁 Release date: 13th of December 2024 [link coming soon]

🎄Sprouting Love // Namjoon // fluffy + romance // 13.7k 🎁 As snowflakes dance in the crisp winter air, you and Namjoon find yourselves wrapped in the warmth of each other’s company. The holiday season brings the aroma of freshly baked cookies, the magic of twinkling lights strung through the house, and laughter echoing in your greenhouse where you tend to flourishing plants, lovingly nurtured together. Amid the glow of Christmas cheer and shared moments filled with wonder, perhaps this season will sprinkle a touch of courage and clarity to finally define the blossoming connection between you. Will the magic of Christmas help turn what’s unspoken into something beautifully real? 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [text between Jungkook and MC] 🎁 Release date: 17th of December 2024 [link coming soon]

🎄Stuck in a Cave // Jimin // enemies to lovers + romance // 8.8k 🎁 Trapped in a snowbound cave over the Christmas holidays with your long-time rival, Park Jimin, you're forced to face the simmering feelings you've both been burying beneath layers of denial. As the cold closes in, unspoken desires begin to thaw, setting your hearts ablaze in a season meant for warmth and wonder. 🎁 Peek at the gift [teaser] 🎁 Peek at the spoiler [group chat texts] 🎁 Release date: 24th of December 2024 [link coming soon]

If you wish to be tagged for one (or more) of these stories, please just leave me a comment here, or on the specific story’s teaser and let me know. Then I’ll add you! 💝

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you're tired of your relatives asking you if you're still single every Christmas. on the spur of the moment, you lie that your have boyfriend. luckily, your best friend sweeps in like your knight in shining armor to save the day pairing: jin x reader genre: romcom with a lil angst, best friends to fake dating to lovers warnings: nosy annoying relatives, lying, fake dating trope, one bed mentioned, some crying, insecurities, confessions, kissing, it is quite mild tbh author's note: the title is super lame but hey, Jin likes dad jokes so here we go 🤷 also i intended to post this for his bday but didn't have enough time to finish it word count: 2.4k

Christmas is the loneliest time of the year for you. Even though you spend it with your relatives, they always make a point of asking whether you are still single. Spoiler alert: you are. It's gotten annoying that they don't appreciate you for your academic and personal achievements and they are only interested in your relationship status. You are so tired of the recurring question which is why you dread Christmas so much. A few weeks before it, you get a call from your parents.

"You're coming home for the holidays, right?"

"Of course, mom," you respond, rolling your eyes.

"So…have you found a special someone?"

There it is. Again. Ugh.

"If I hear this one more time…" you sigh.

"Got it," your mom chuckles condescendingly, which frustrates you to no end.

You don't know what spirit possesses you to do what you do next but the words are out of your mouth before you can think twice about it.

"I actually have a boyfriend but maybe if you weren't nagging me about it every Christmas, I would have told you earlier."

"You do?" your mom exclaims, surprise evident in her voice."Well, isn't that wonderful! You should bring him, introduce him into the family."

"He's really busy, mom, I don't think he'll make it," you keep lying, trying to get out of the situation you'd brought upon yourself.

"Nonsense, no one works on Christmas. I expect to see the happy couple soon. And no excuses!"

Before you could argue, your mom hangs up. Great. Now you have two weeks to magically find a boyfriend to bring home for the holidays.

You are sitting on your best friend's couch, playing games with him.

"Damn, you're so good at this!" you shout in fake annoyance at being defeated but you are actually happy for him. You know how much Jin loves winning.

"What can I say? I was born this way," he smirks confidently and puts the console on the table.

"Humble, as always," you tease him, nudging his shoulder.

"So, do you have any plans for Christmas?"

"Ugh, don't remind me."

"Why? I thought you loved Christmas movies and decorations and all things Christmas-related," Jin tells you and you are beyond touched to have someone who knows you that well and remembers such details.

"I do, but…I got myself in a bit of a predicament."

"Do share," he turns to the side so that he can face you.

"Well, you know how my relatives always ask whether I'm still single? And they're especially persistent around the holidays."

"I know," he laughs. "You've only complained about it like a hundred times."

"Sorry," you grimace at your own predisposition to torment your best friend everytime something goes wrong in your life. "So, um…this year I told my mom I have a boyfriend."

"And I learn about this now?" Jin puts a hand on his heart, expressing disappointment that you'd kept such a big secret from him.

"What? No, I don't have a boyfriend. I lied to my mom and now she expects me to bring a guy to meet the family."

"Oh, shit," he now understands why you're not looking forward to Christmas.

"Yep. I'm such a mess. Everyone will be so mad at me when I come home alone. Again. Kill me now."

"Well…you don't have to be alone."

"Huh?"

"Hear me out. What if I pretend to be your boyfriend? Just for the holidays. Then, your relatives would get off your back."

"Jin…I can't ask this of you."

"Good thing you're not asking. I came up with this brilliant idea myself. If it bothers you, you can tell them we broke up some time next year. Don't you want one Christmas of your relatives not repeating the same old annoying question?"

"I do want it, more than anything. But I would hate to inconvenience you…"

"Come on, it will be fun! My parents are spending this Christmas in Australia, drinking cocktails and soaking in the sun. It's not like I have anything special planned. It would be delightful to spend it with my best friend," Jin keeps talking and you are almost convinced.

"What about your best friend's super messy family?" you try to change his mind.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll charm the pants off them."

You are not worried about how your relatives will immediatelly fall in love with Jin. You are concerned that it will be you being charmed…

You are revising every small detail while Jin is driving his car to your grandparents' place.

"When did we start dating?" you ask him.

"Three months ago. We naturally realized that we are great friends and would make an even greater couple," he responds without hesitation. "How did I ask you out?"

"You told me I am the best thing that happened to you and I would make you the happiest man in the world if I went on a date with you," you reply naturally. "What was our first date like?"

"We went to watch a movie together, after that we had dinner at a lovely restaurant and I walked you to your apartment where I kissed you in front of the doorstep."

"The roses! You forgot to mention the roses!" you cry out, almost panicking. This has to be perfect or your snoopy relatives might suspect something.

"I was supposed to bring roses to your grandparents? I thought the wine would be enough," Jin mumbles in confusion.

"No, for the first date details! We agreed that you'd mention the roses. What if…what if they ask and we mess something up and…"

"Darling, relax. We've got this. We've been best friends for seven years. We know each other well enough to handle anything."

You try to ignore the way your heart flutters when he calls you darling. Damnit. When he'd suggested pretending, you hadn't thought about the fact that it wouldn't be pretending on your part.

"Do you trust me?" Jin asks.

"Unequivocally," you assure him. It is yourself you don't trust.

Once he parks the car, you are immediately greeted by a bunch of your relatives.

"Come, come! It is lovely to meet you," your mom welcomes Jin.

"Mom, this is my best friend," you say by force of habit and then correct yourself, "and now my boyfriend, Jin."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Jin shakes her hand politely.

"Pfft, call me by my name," your mom says and introduces herself.

Quickly enough, your poor bestie is hounded by your grandparents, your aunt, your cousin and her kids. It's a lot of excitement considering you'd just arrived and you are already looking forward to going to bed. You love your relatives but sometimes they can be…a lot.

Jin, however, seems to be thriving. He talks to your mom about cooking, to your grandparents about fishing and politics, to your aunt and cousin about acting and singing. Even the kids seem to love him, as he takes the time to play hide and seek with them. He also promises to build a snowman with them when it is warmer tomorrow. You have no reason to worry and yet, seeing him naturally fit in with them on their first meeting…when you have felt like an outsider your whole life, is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You excuse yourself from the table, saying you need to use the bathroom.

Not expecting anyone to notice your absence, you cry quietly in your room, feeling as if you have never been good enough and your relatives were always disappointed in you. You hear a soft knock on the door, which takes you by surprise.

"You alright, love?" Jin asks.

You let him in and he wraps you up in one of his warm hugs that have the magical ability to make you stop crying.

"What's wrong? I thought it was going well," he whispers, not wanting anyone to overhear.

"It's going splendidly," you agree. "It's just that…they love you more than they do me."

"That can't be true, you're the most precious granddaughter, niece and cousin anyone could possibly have."

You sniffle and look up at him.

"You only say that 'cause I'm your best friend," you try to make light out of the situation.

"Girlfriend," he corrects you with a wink.

"Right," you chuckle through the tears.

"Come on. Let's not give them the opportunity to discuss us behind our backs," Jin jokes and you decide to return to the table. He gives you the strength needed to face them again.

The Christmas holidays go by smoothly and in the blink of an eye. The days are filled with laughter, hot chocolate, yummy meals, wholesome Christmas movies, cozy socks and snowball fights with your cousin's kids. This might be the best Christmas you've ever had. You wonder if it's Jin's presence that made it so special and heartwarming. During the family dinners, he is the life of the party, always knowing the right thing to say to each and every one of your relatives. And when the two of you are alone, cuddled up in your room, he is your rock. You know you can count on him and tell him everything that has bothered you. And you know that he would understand you and comfort you like nobody else could.

Which is why it hurts so much when he is now driving you both back to the city. The pretense is over. You would no longer have an excuse to hold his hand or sleep in the same bed as him or kiss his cheek so openly. He is back to being your best friend. And perhaps that's the way it should be. You couldn't risk your friendship by doing something stupid like confessing your undying love for him. No, that would certainly be a terrible idea. Perhaps more terrible than having him as a fake boyfriend for the holidays.

"What's on your mind?" Jin asks.

"Hm?"

"I can see the gears turning in your head. Something is bothering you."

"Hey, aren't you supposed to look at the road instead of the gears in my head?" you tease him.

"I can multitask. Come on, just tell me."

"It's nothing. I just found myself wishing the Christmas holidays could last longer. I really had an amazing time, which doesn't usually happen around my relatives."

"Glad I could be of service," Jin smirks proudly, making you laugh. You would never grow tired of his casually confident nature.

Silence ensues for a couple of minutes and you are back to worrying and thinking about your unresolved feelings for your best friend. When suddenly, he interrupts your thought process with an unexpected suggestion.

"How about we have a second Christmas?"

"A second Christmas?" you repeat in confusion.

"My place. Just the two of us. We'll do all the things we didn't have the chance to do at your grandparents' house."

"Such as?" you inquire, wondering what you've missed.

"We'll play games and I'll make you my famous roast beef. We'll have midnight snacks and watch anime with no one judging us. We'll bake Christmas cookies together and we could even go ice-skating."

"That…sounds lovely. I'm in," you immediately agree, excited to have a second Christmas with Jin. Maybe, just maybe, a miracle will happen.

The next day, you arrive at his place and are amazed to find how magically decorated it is.

"Ta-da! Welcome to your own personal winter wonderland."

"My goodness, Jin, it looks incredible! How did you achieve all this so quickly and all by yourself? You must be exhausted."

"Nah, it was my pleasure. And besides, seeing the smile on your face is the best Christmas present I could hope for," he responds.

"Merry second Christmas to you, too," you grin and give him a hug. It feels so natural and like you were meant to end up right there.

As promised, the two of you get to do all the things you couldn't at your grandparents'. You watch the spiciest animes with zero shame, you eat ramen at 1am and you play violent games that would make your relatives gasp in horror. It is genuinely the most incredible Christmas. Even more incredible than the time you spent with your family.

But all good things inevitably come to an end. Tomorrow, it is time for both you and Jin to go back to work. And with that, the magical holidays will be over. You don't want them to be. You wish you could stay in this bubble forever, with Jin's arms wrapped around you.

"I should probably head home. You have to wake up early tomorrow."

"Or…you could stay. We can share the bed," Jin suggests and you can swear you hear a hopeful hint in his voice.

"Jin…we're no longer surrounded by my nosy relatives. You don't have to pretend it's okay with you to have me intruding on your personal space."

"Who said I was pretending?" he whispers and you probably shouldn't but you allow yourself to dream. There is no way he feels the same…or is there?

"Don't…don't say stuff like that if you don't mean it," you mumble, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

"I'm tired of hiding it, sweetheart," he sighs and presses his hand against your cheek. "I only offered the whole fake dating thing because I was hoping you would finally get the hint and realize how important you are to me. But in case it wasn't obvious enough, let me spell it out for you. I. Am. Crazy. About. You."

You blink in shock.

"Pinch me so I know I'm not dreaming. You…like me back?"

"How about I do something better?" Jin smiles softly and leans in to kiss you. It is slow and sweet, just as how you'd imagined it hundreds of times. No, scratch that. It is so much better. He makes you feel so special and loved. You wish you had confessed earlier. You have been missing out on so many Christmas kisses.

"Look up," Jin says gently once he finally breaks the kiss.

You do as he asks and you realize that you have somehow ended up under a mistletoe decoration he must have put up and you haven't noticed before.

"Aww, man, did you only kiss me because of that mistletoe?"

"Let me take you to my room and prove you otherwise," Jin vows, grabs your hand and urges you to follow his lead.

Christmas is truly the most wonderful time of the year.

The End

[madameaug]

Turkey Turkey Day

Pairing: Jungkook x Jennette

Context: New parents Jungkook and Jennette getting food prepared with their little Peanut. Peanut is 3 months <3

Jennette listened attentively to the baby monitor to watch out for when Peanut woke up. Peanut was sleeping on her back with her hands resting above her temple. Her feet occasionally rubbed against each other, so she would be waking up soon. Jennette would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night just to watch Peanut breathe. It didn't matter if she was exhausted or just put the toddler down from feeding. She would get up again and make sure she was okay.

Lucky for the new parents, they just had to host Thanksgiving. Their parents were bringing all of the dishes that they would be eating. They weren't heartless. No way could three months postpartum could Jennete prepare a proper Thanksgiving dinner.

"Jungkook, do you wanna go wake up Peanut. It's getting close to her feeding time." Jungkook in the middle of brushing his teeth nodded. He rolled his neck to the side. He was dressed up semi-formally. A brown collared shirt, with khaki pants. A gold watch on his wrist and he was rocking his shorter hairdo. Jungkook cleaned up nicely.

"You look beautiful Jeanie."

Jennette was putting on more than a graphic t-shirt and maternity pants for the first time since Peanut was born. She still had a bump but was slowly returning to her pre-pregnancy weight. She wasn't too worried about losing the baby weight. It made her nostalgic. She grew a tiny human in this deflating belly. The same tiny human that had captured her heart since she came into the world a few months ago.

Nevertheless, soaking in the tub and getting gussied up still felt good. Going along with the brown theme, Jennette was in a puffy-sleeved maxi dress. Around her hips was a gold belt, that gave her that hourglass shape. The baby weight that she had was distributing itself nicely. Her breast went up a cup size, and she butt was more pronounced. She was a walking definition of a milf. An inside joke with Nala.

"Damn I look good."

Jennette shamelessly took pictures of herself. Her face card was valid with matte look. Her Coi Leray braids were freshly done two nights ago and her confidence was high. Now it was time to go see her baby.

She didn't expect to see her three-month-old newborn in a miniature. turkey outfit. Peanut was awake, bubbles coming out of her mouth. Jungkook was playing with her feet. Giving them rapid kisses.

"Why is my baby a turkey?"

"I saw it on Amazon and thought it was too cute not to buy." Jungkook gently lifted Peanut out of her crib. He supported her head as she laid her cheek on his shoulder. Peanut’s fat feet were sticking out of the turkey onesie. The hood was decorated to look like feathers, with a small peak on the top. Jennette wanted to coo, seeing how small Peanut looked compared to her father. She was a little bit bigger than his pecs.

"She does look adorable." Jennette snapped another picture. She would definitely send this picture to her family group chat.

"Come on let's feed her, before she everyone shows up.”

<3. <3. <3.

Peanut in all her turkey glory was the center of attention at the dinner table. Her travel crib was pulled up beside Jennette and Jungkook. This was the first time that the grandparents could touch their grand baby.

Jungkook and Jennette wanted a couple of weeks to themselves with Peanut. They didn’t want to be suffocate under the new baby attention. And now that Peanut had a couple of vaccines in her system, they were slowly introducing her to other adults.

Jungkook’s mother currently held Peanut in her arms, bouncing her softly. Peanut was staring at her grandmother, leaning forward to leave wet “kisses” on her cheek. In any other context the sight would be gross, and very unsanitary. But it was melting the hearts of the older adults.

Jennette ate the Korean-Soul food dishes. She had her favorites from each couzine. Mac n cheese, collard greens, honey butter cornbread, and her mother in law kimchi. She was eating good, and baby duty was being happily taken care of by her parents/ in laws.

Jennette was truly grateful and thankful for her family.

[hobipaint]

Peppermint Mocha

synopsis: Wanting to break away from the hubbub of the big city life, you decided to return your quaint, tiny town, seeking solitude. However, you meet Hoseok, who seems way more familiar than he should, and your solitary vacation takes a turn - for the better, or for the worse?

genre: fluff

word count: 4.6k

rating: pg13

a/n: A very happy new year, everyone! And especially to the amazing @the-boy-meets-evil - jess, I was so glad I could be your secret santa this year! carol worked hard on her puns hehe :) i hope you enjoyed my asks and this fic! i'm so sorry for the delay in sending out this gift, but i hope you enjoy the extended holiday spirit :) and for everyone reading, I hope you have an amazing 2024!

written for the @kpopsecretsanta secret santa event! | my masterlist

The holidays always went a little too fast for your liking. You didn’t know when it Christmas had come, shown its colours, and left; it felt like yesterday that you were preparing for Halloween. And yet, the wispy bits of fluffy snow falling from the sky said that it had been long since that time. You could feel the frosty bits of snow crunching under your feet as you trudged out of the airport into the lanes of the town. 

In the distance, you could see the festive hubbub that surrounded your town - with officials figuring out logistics for lights and trees, vendors setting up their markets and little kids toying about with the snow: everything was exactly the same as you remembered when you had last been here. 

“10 years,” you whispered to yourself, a small smile forming on your lips. “Hello again.” 

Your family had once called this town home, back when you and your siblings were young kids. Time had flown away like the little snow flakes did now, and forced you all to move away from your home to build a future of your own. Normally, you would have wanted to be with your friends and family to celebrate the holidays, but something oddly made you want to come back here. 

Making sure you had your belongings, you asked around to figure out where your lodge was located, not recognising a lot of the shops that now decorated the streets. Your parents had recommended a lodge they had first stayed in when they came here, one out of two cabins owned by a family friend who had since shifted to New York. They let you rent out one for the holidays, and encouraged you to get acquainted with the stranger who would be renting the other cabin around the same time - “wouldn’t hurt to make a new friend,”  they’d said. 

A tap on your shoulder broke your reverie. “Y/N?” A voice called behind you, making you turn to face the person in question. Dressed cosily in a green sweater that screamed the holiday spirit with vibrant red hearts and candy canes all over it, it was a man, snowflakes settling in his fluffed up brown hair. He was tall in a way that made you stretch your neck up to look at his big smile, and his eyes had a soft crinkle to them, as if you had just shared a funny anecdote. 

“I’m Hoseok,” he mentioned, stretching out a hand. “I figured you’re the other person staying at the Woodson’s cabin, aren’t you?”

You accepted his hand, surprised at the warmth instantly engulfing your frosty fingers. “Yeah, I am. How did you know it was me, though?” 

He grinned, tilting his head to look at your heavy bags - as if they were a clear indication. “No one really travels alone with three big bags to this town unless they’re planning a long vacation.” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess that kinda gave it away.” You could feel him staring at you as if trying to figure out what kind of a person his neighbour for the next few days was like. 

Hoseok flashed a friendly smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve got my car here, so if you don’t mind, we can get to the cabin together? Let me help you with those bags." He effortlessly grabbed two of your heavy bags, leaving you with just one.

“Thank you,” you said, following after him and settling into the warmth of his car. Helping him load your luggage on the car, Hoseok immediately ran off inside the car, immediately cranking the heat on. You couldn’t help but laugh as he gestured for you to come in quickly. 

“Not a fan of the cold, I presume?” you asked. 

“Brrrr,” he shivered, rubbing his palms together and blowing at them. “I love the aesthetics of cold weather, but absolutely hate the feeling of cold.” Starting the car, he slowly drove out of the parking lot, suddenly grinning to himself. “By the way, Y/N? You haven’t asked me for any proof of who I am,” he hesitated, looking over to you cautiously as if to detect any signs of panic. 

You froze at his words, realising his perspective: you had just trusted an absolute stranger and gotten in the car. “Should I be worried, though?” You tried to play it off casually. 

“I would suggest being worried, and not being relieved until you were sure I was the right person to approach you,” he said, lips pursed and hands tense on the steering wheel. “I could be really dangerous.”

For some reason, that stunned you, and yet, it made you burst out into laughter. 

Hoseok looked at you confused. “What?” 

Gasping for breath, you could barely stop your laughter enough to calm Hoseok’s concerned face. “Mrs. Woodson is a family friend, Hoseok. She’d already told me about you, and how you’ve been here for a few weeks at the cabin. I did recognise you a few seconds after you spoke to me.”  You grinned. “It would have been concerning if I did blindly trust you and get in the car, though.”

Hseok dramatically breathed out, as if a huge tension had been lifted off of his chest. “Well, at least you knew who I was. Imagine if you didn’t know anyone or anything in this town and got all lost? I would feel terrible.”

You settled into your seat, humming in agreement with him. “I do know this town well enough, though. I have lived here for long enough to know these streets, even if they’re more colourful now than then.” 

Hoseok smiled. “Ahh, so you lived here too.”

You turned to him in surprise. “You, too?”

He nodded. “I lived here for some years when I was younger. I don’t have very strong memories of this place here - I moved away with my dad after my parents divorced, you see - and came here only sometimes to visit my mom while she still lived here. And when all my family moved from here, I didn’t really have a reason to come back here as much.” He smiled softly. “But then, I just felt like I wanted to be here this year, alone, yes, but in a place I first started enjoying the holidays.” 

You hummed in agreement, understanding the sentiment.

He pointed to the houses you were crossing outside, all cheerfully decorated in lights and decor. ‘I used to rank the houses by their decor every year, and then go to the house I ranked first to tell them that they won,” he said, making you both laugh. “I wonder if the owners are still the same people.” 

“I would hope so, too,” you said. “‘My family and I had loads of friends we lost touch with. It would be nice to meet some of them.” 

The road to the cabin was a long one, you knew, and yet, you weren’t as bothered about travelling a long distance as you thought you would be. Hoseok’s company and your childhood nostalgia got the best of you, keeping the conversation in good spirits as you made your way to the cabin.

As you climbed the steps up to the Woodson's cabin, Hoseok spoke up, "By the way, if you ever need anything or have any trouble, feel free to knock on my door. We're practically neighbours for the next few days." He knocked at his door jokingly, before showing you into your cabin.

You nodded in gratitude, feeling a sense of warmth in both the gesture and the offer.

The Woodson's cabin was a rustic haven nestled amidst a picturesque snowy landscape. Its exterior, adorned with a glistening layer of snow, exuded a quaint charm that perfectly complemented the festive spirit of the holidays. A trail of footprints led to the wooden porch, where a wreath of pine cones and twinkling lights welcomed visitors.

Upon entering, the warm aroma of burning pine logs greeted you, emanating from a grand fireplace that stood as the heart of the cozy abode. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows on the log walls, revealing a collection of Wooderson family mementoes – framed photographs capturing moments of laughter, family gatherings, and snowy adventures. The memories were frozen in time, a testament to the cabin's rich history and the cherished moments shared by generations past.

The living area featured plush, oversized chairs and a well-worn sofa, adorned with festive throw blankets that beckoned you to sink in and relish the comfort. The windows, framed by heavy curtains, offered panoramic views of the snow-covered landscape, while the soft glow of fairy lights added a touch of enchantment.

In the corner of the cabin, a towering Christmas tree stood adorned with an array of ornaments, casting a festive hue that bathed the room in a warm and inviting light. A quaint dining table, draped with a red-and-green checkered tablecloth, held the remnants of a shared meal, as the remnants of peppermint hot cocoa lingered in the air.

The Woodson's cabin was a rustic haven nestled amidst a picturesque snowy landscape. Its exterior, adorned with a glistening layer of snow, exuded a quaint charm that perfectly complemented the festive spirit of the holidays. A trail of footprints led to the wooden porch, where a wreath of pine cones and twinkling lights welcomed visitors.

Upon entering, the warm aroma of burning pine logs greeted you, emanating from a grand fireplace that stood as the heart of the cosy abode. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows on the log walls, revealing a collection of Wooderson family mementoes – framed photographs capturing moments of laughter, family gatherings, and snowy adventures. You could spot your family and more familiar faces in the frames: the memories were frozen in time, a testament to the cabin's rich history and the cherished moments shared by generations past.

The living area featured plush, oversized chairs and a well-worn sofa adorned with festive throw blankets that beckoned you to sink in and relish the comfort. The windows, framed by heavy curtains, offered panoramic views of the snow-covered landscape, while the soft glow of fairy lights added a touch of enchantment.

In the corner of the cabin, a towering Christmas tree stood adorned with an array of ornaments, casting a festive hue that bathed the room in a warm and inviting light. A quaint dining table, draped with a red-and-green checkered tablecloth adorned the center of the cabin as the fragrance of toasted peppermint lingered in the air.

Hoseok bashfully scratched his head. “I may or may not have used your stove to make myself some Christmassy drinks.”

You grinned. “Was it something with peppermint?” 

“How did you know?” Hoseok asked, nodding in agreement as he stacked the washed and dried mug back in the cabinet. “I’ve always loved a good old mint flavoured drink, and ‘tis the season for peppermint, isn’t it?”

Seeing your vigorous agreement, Hoseok offered to whip up a drink for you while you settled your belongings in the cabin. 

“I’ll start the fireplace,” Hoseok called after you, busying away in the hall while you made your way to the bedroom. 

It felt like ages since you had sat by yourself, giving yourself time to do nothing. 

After you had moved away from your hometown, your life had been consumed with racing against the clock. With all your hardwork, you had been successful in your education, your career, and you had a place that you called your own. And yet, there were barely moments where you got to enjoy the time you so rightfully deserved to give yourself. Running around to prove yourself had only made you deprive yourself of your own time, seldom finding it in your busy hubbub. 

And now, as you overlooked the snow-laden mountains, with the town distantly coloured in a warm hue, you felt your shoulders melt into a more carefree, comfortable posture. You deserved this, you thought to yourself. It was more than worth it to come here, all alone, and enjoy one vacation in solidarity. You deserved the time all to yourself. 

And plus, Hoseok’s here for company, you added, feeling more and more resolute in your decision to take a break from the festive season. 

“This tastes really good, and I say that as someone who barely drinks coffee,” you hummed, hands wrapping around the warm mug that Hoseok handed to you.

He occupied the other end of the sofa, matching mug in his hands, crossing his legs comfortably. “That’s mainly because of the peppermint, Y/N. It adds a sense of uniqueness to the otherwise common coffee and elevates it.” You giggled at his narration as he indicated to his mug as if pitching a billion-dollar idea. 

“I noticed you like peppermints a lot,” you said, sipping away at the drink. “I like them too, but it is rare to find a fellow lover.”

“Oh, I love them!” Hoseok beamed eagerly. “Peppermint mochas are probably my favourite thing to make over the holidays. It is the only time of the year where it tastes just right and fits in, you know?” 

“My family used to make peppermint-infused hot chocolate,” you grinned. “It used to taste amazing.” 

As the crackling fire painted a warm ambience across the cabin, a subtle wave of nostalgia washed over you. The flickering flames seemed to dance in sync with the memories of holidays long gone, reminding you of the lively chaos that filled your childhood home during this time of year. 

Hoseok, sensing a shift in your demeanour, looked at you with understanding eyes. "Something on your mind, Y/N?" he asked, the glow from the fireplace casting a gentle warmth on his features.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, "It's just that... well, I miss my family. The holidays were always about being together; this year, being here alone feels different. I mean, it's wonderful to be back in this town, but the absence of their laughter and the familiar holiday chaos is hard to ignore."

Hoseok nodded empathetically, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I get that. Family has a way of making this time of year special. Maybe we can bring a little bit of that magic here. What's something your family always did during the holidays?"

As you shared tales of your family's traditions, Hoseok listened attentively. You don’t know when you two had started shifted closer, but soon enough, you and Hoseok were slapping each other on the arms while laughing away at old, embarrassing childhood stories. 

“I can’t believe you would do that!” you laughed, wiping a tear away from your eyes. Hoseok chuckled at your state. 

“Well, its at least better than when my family paraded me as baby Jesus on Halloween - my neighbour’s kid actually thought I was him,” he added, making you laugh even more. 

Outside, you could see the snow settling up higher and higher, and soon you and Hoseok decided to bid goodbye for the night. While walking him out, you chatted about more anecdotes from your time in this town - and you found yourself thinking, this vacation isn’t off to a bad start at all. 

Just before saying your goodbyes, Hoseok's eyes caught something above the door – a delicate mistletoe, adorned with tiny white berries, hung there as if placed by some unseen holiday fairy. A mischievous glint sparkled in Hoseok's eyes as he gently pointed upward.

"Well, look what we have here," he remarked with a playful grin, drawing your attention to the festive foliage above.

Your gaze followed his, and a soft gasp escaped your lips as you realized the implication. The air seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, and a warm flush crept up your cheeks. Hoseok, with a charming smile, took a step closer, the glow of the cabin's lights framing his silhouette against the snowy backdrop.

"Tradition dictates that if two people find themselves beneath mistletoe, they share a kiss," Hoseok said, his voice low and filled with a playful warmth. “Unless they both don’t consent, of course.” 

You hesitated, before responding. “I’m single, so - unless you don’t want to -”

Before you could fully complete your words, Hoseok leaned in, closing the gap between you. Time seemed to slow as his lips met yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, capturing the essence of the winter night and the enchantment that hung in the air. The snowflakes continued their silent descent around you, adding a touch of whimsy to the unexpected yet welcomed moment.

As his lips parted from yours, you could feel the frosty snow take away his warmth, and you oddly wanted nothing more to pull him back and kiss him. 

But he was already walking away, promising to see you the next day. “See you tomorrow, beautiful."

The mistletoe kiss had cast a spell, and the days that followed became a tapestry woven with the threads of shared laughter and newfound connection. The town, now dressed in the shimmering aftermath of Christmas, beckoned the two of you to explore its post-celebration charm.

In the heart of the town, where the streets turned into a canvas painted with the hues of festive lights, you couldn't help but marvel at the lively holiday market. "It's like walking into a snow globe," you mused, the twinkling lights reflecting in her eyes.

Hoseok grinned, the glow of the lights accentuating the warmth in his eyes. "A magical snow globe where every shop is a treasure trove waiting to be discovered."

The vendors, like holiday artisans, showcased their creations with pride. Hoseok found himself drawn to a quaint bakery where the scent of peppermint-infused pastries lingered in the air. "I can almost taste the nostalgia in these," he remarked, savoring a bite of a holiday treat.

You chuckled, a melody that harmonized with the festive ambience. "Nostalgia is the secret ingredient that makes everything here taste like a piece of childhood."

As you both strolled through the town square, the ice-skating rink unfolded like a winter dreamscape. People of all ages took advantage of the icy wonderland, gliding and playing around on the ice. "Care to join me?" Hoseok extended his hand, the invitation echoing your kiss from a few nights ago.

You hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. “As long as you don’t make me fall,” you remarked, making him laugh. 

Evenings were a journey through the luminous streets, where each step resonated with shared stories and whispered dreams. The glow of holiday lights reflected in his eyes as they approached midnight. Hoseok, holding Y/N close, whispered against the backdrop of fireworks, "Here's to new beginnings."

It was almost as if the post-Christmas festivities had turned the town into a living storybook, with Hoseok and you as its protagonists. The holiday magic lingered in the air, blending seamlessly with the enchanting connection that unfolded like the turning pages of a heartwarming tale. 

A chilly onslaught broke the rather pleasant dream you were having. Groggily, you woke up, wrapping the blanket around you strongly to block out the sudden rush of iciness. The fireplace weakly flickered, and you could hear the howling winds outside as a storm built up. 

Not knowing what to do, you decided your best option was probably to try to revive the fireplace and whip up something warm for yourself. You poked at the fire, but it seemed like it wouldn’t revive at all. As the firewood dwindled and the flames grew weaker, the bitter cold of the snowstorm seeped into the cabin, chilling the air and turning every breath into a visible mist. Despite your best efforts, the fire refused to revive, leaving you shivering and desperate for warmth.

“I did come here to be alone, but this is not what I envisioned,” you laughed to yourself, hugging your blanket tighter. 

Your phone was not getting any network, so you hoped that Hoseok would somehow be awake at 2 AM. Bundling yourself up to the best of your abilities, you set out to his side of the cabin, knocking at his door as loudly as you could. 

A few minutes later, a rather disgruntled Hoseok appeared at the door. “Is everything okay?” he rasped, hair awry and clothes haphazardly pulled on. 

“I think my heating is broken, and the fire isn’t reviving, either.”  You explained. 

“Ahh.” Hoseok welcomed you in his cabin - a near mirror image of your one - and let you settle up on the couch while he volunteered to check on your heating system. 

While Hoseok busied himself outside, you noticed how tidy Hoseok had kept the cabin. There were more photos here - though you could only recognise a few faces - and a few more albums, stacked on the table next to the fireplace. Curiosity getting the better of you, you decided to peruse through one of them, immediately finding pictures of people from your neighbourhood celebrating Christmas together. On some pages, you could find your own parents smiling back at you, with your siblings holding hands with the other kids from the neighbourhood and singing carols captured in a faded photo. 

 To your surprise, you stumbled upon a faded photograph of two young kids, clutching a bag of peppermints, wearing matching grins.

Hoseok stepped in at that time, and yet, in your shock, you could barely register any of the words he was saying.

"Hoseok, is this...?" you began, showing him the picture.

He glanced over and chuckled. "Yeah, that's me, and my neighbour’s kid. We used to be quite the troublemakers when our families spent holidays here together."

You smiled. “Do you know where this kid is now?”

“No,” he said, sadly. “I wish I did, though. We used to be best friends when we were younger, literally joined at the hip, but didn’t really stay in touch after I left. I sometimes do wonder about her.” 

You held the picture up to your face, making Hoseok face you. “Don’t you think something about us looks similar?” 

Hoseok frowned, judging the faded Kodak with your beaming face. “You do have the same eyes, now that you say it. She had very pretty eyes.”

“Do you not remember her name?” You asked. 

“We would call each other with nicknames,” Hoseok said, dusting the snow off his hair. “I used to call her Bunny, and she used to call me-”

“Hobi,” you completed, eyes gleaming. 

Hoseok looked stunned. “Yeah, that’s what she called me. How did you know that?”

You laughed at his oblivion. “Because I am Bunny, silly.”

“Wha-oh?” Hoseok exclaimed, bracing himself as you rushed to hug your childhood best friend. “Are you serious?” 

“I am,” you convinced him, finding it just as hard to believe as him. I mean, you don’t come to a cabin on the outskirts of the town looking for solitude only to bump into your childhood best friend again, do you? 

Hoseok pulled away from you, gripping your shoulders and letting his eyes take in every part of you - as if he were meeting you for the first time again. “I can’t believe it is you.” 

“Me neither,” you said, as you kissed his cheek. “It has been far too long, Hobi.” 

Hoseok's astonishment lingered in the air as you both navigated the surprising reunion. The faded photograph, a relic of childhood mischief, lay forgotten on the table, replaced by the incredulous exchange between Bunny and Hobi after years of separation.

The cabin, with its walls echoing with the laughter of yesteryears, seemed to encase the timeless connection that had just resurfaced. Hoseok's eyes remained fixed on you, his disbelief slowly giving way to the realization that the Bunny he once knew was standing right in front of him.

As the shock settled, you couldn't help but laugh at the sheer serendipity of the moment. "I never imagined I'd find Bunny and Hobi reunited in a cabin on the outskirts of town," you remarked, a playful gleam in your eyes.

Hoseok joined in your laughter, the familiarity of shared memories weaving a comforting thread between you. "It's like a plot from a nostalgic movie," he added, shaking his head in amazement.

The two of you, now seated on the sofa, exchanged stories of the years that had passed, bridging the gap between then and now. The cabin, a silent witness to the unravelling narrative, seemed to cradle the essence of your rekindled friendship.

As the night wore on, and the snowstorm outside intensified, the cosy cabin transformed into a haven against the wintry tempest. Hoseok, ever thoughtful, stoked the fireplace, the flames casting a warm glow on the shared stories and laughter.

The sofa, now an island in the sea of nostalgia, beckoned both of you to its comforting embrace. The flickering flames, the snowstorm outside, and the whispers of shared memories paved the way for an unspoken understanding.

"You know," Hoseok began, his tone gentle, "it feels like we never really left those days behind. Just picked up where we left off."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of belonging that transcended time. "It's like we're continuing a story that got interrupted."

As the night deepened, the warmth of the cabin and the shared connection became a refuge from the cold. The sofa, once a witness to the nostalgia of the past, now cradled the reunion of Bunny and Hobi.

Hoseok, looking at you with a softness in his eyes, spoke words that resonated with the atmosphere of the cabin. "I'm glad you found your way back, Bunny."

You leaned in, your shoulders brushing against each other, and whispered, "Me too, Hobi. Me too."

The flickering flames painted a dance on the log walls, casting shadows that seemed to waltz in rhythm with your shared laughter. The coziness of the cabin, the gentle snowstorm outside, and the rekindled friendship all merged into a symphony of comfort.

In the hushed moments that followed, the realization dawned that sleep was claiming its territory. The sofa, now transformed into a shared haven, invited both of you to surrender to its embrace.

"You know, Hobi," you said, your voice a sleepy murmur, "I never thought I'd find such warmth in the midst of a snowstorm."

Hoseok chuckled, the sound a gentle melody. "Maybe the storm outside brought us the warmth we didn't know we needed."

And so, amidst the crackling fire and the distant howl of the snowstorm, you and Hoseok snuggled closer, finding solace in the shared warmth. The flickering flames painted a canvas of comfort, casting a soft glow on your intertwined fingers.

And then, as if the universe had orchestrated the moment, your gaze met Hoseok's, and in that shared glance, a silent understanding bloomed. With a tenderness that mirrored the nostalgia of rediscovery, your lips met in a gentle kiss, sealing the night with a promise of new beginnings. The flickering flames seemed to dance in celebration, casting a warm glow on the cabin, now a witness to your reunion. 

As sleep began to weave its tranquil spell, Hoseok whispered, "I’m so glad I met you again, Bunny."

You smiled, the words a gentle echo in the cozy cabin. "I’m so grateful, Hobi."

While your previous year left much to be forgotten, it seemed that this year had begun with the embrace of an unexpected reunion, the flickering flames and the snowstorm outside bearing witness to the rekindling of a friendship that time had only strengthened. In the arms of the cabin, beneath the quilt of shared memories, you and Hoseok surrendered to the tranquility of the night, finding peace in the warmth of each other's presence.

If you made it till here, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed the fic - i would love to hear from you about it! love, hazel <3

[mangowillow]

my shining star

pairing: jungkook x female reader

summary: it's another Christmas spent with Jeongguk, but he loves surprises so he gives them to you in more ways than one.

genre/tags: fluff, established relationship, christmas/holiday fic

word count: 1.5k

a/n: well, hello there. here's me dropping a belated holiday fic for you. i'm still on an overseas trip and i lack so much sleep already, but here, take this fic, my heart, it's yours. i hope your days have been good and kind :)

“I cannot believe you made me wear this— this abomination,” you feign disgust as you look over the design of the sweater you’re wearing. 

“Hey, that hurts my feelings, I spent a ton of time knitting that,” Jeongguk responds as he picks out Christmas ornaments from a box. “I also realized that it was embarrassing to knit a sweater in the middle of a train station.”

“Well, no one told you to knit in the middle of a train station, babe,” you pull out a loose thread from your sleeve.

“I can’t help it, I was bored and I didn’t want to use my phone.” When you didn’t answer, Jeongguk looked back to you. “Besides, I wanted to look cool.”

“You have a completely strange way of interpreting what ‘cool’ means.” you walk back to the kitchen to check on the hot chocolate Jeongguk made.

“Damn straight, baby.” Jeongguk replies. You chuckle as you see his eyebrows meet, trying to choose between two ornaments.

“This one?” Jeongguk asks, holding up the painted ornament. You hum and nod your head.

You and Jeongguk have been dating for almost five years now, and every opportunity you get, you both acquire special Christmas tree ornaments to put up on the tree. As cheesy as it sounded, it was a way for both of you to remember all the milestones and the mundane moments you both shared through the years. To your surprise, Jeongguk was rather fond of the idea and every year, he made sure to add something new to your shared Christmas tree at home. 

You walk up to where Jeongguk was. He hands you the small trinket, eyes shining bright as he waits for you to reminisce with him. He remembers this specific ornament, of course he does.  

Because It was the very first one you both had.

The ornament is a handpainted one, made by you. The trinket holds special memories of your first shared home with Jeongguk: a one-story home by the Busan sea. The house is painted against a light blue sky, with the sand and shore in front of it. In that house was you and Jeongguk buying your first furniture together, the house you both spent sleepless nights trying to make ends meet. It was in your first shared home that Jeongguk learned (and burned) how to cook for you. It was him and you staying up late into the night watching re-runs of Friends and his favorite Marvel movies. It was the home you both built around each other, full of love and trials because it was his first real taste of how it felt to think about someone else other than himself. If you will ask Jeongguk, he will always be grateful of your first home because he grew to love you so much more. Living together with his bestfriend of so many years, it was inevitable for him to fall in love with you. Confessing his feelings for you years ago was and still is the best decision he ever made.

“I can’t believe this still hasn’t chipped.” You hold out the ornament for Jeongguk to take back. “It feels like ages since we had to let go of our first home,” your voice barely a whisper.

Jeongguk gave you a soft smile, “Growth is always good, love. We’ve come so far since then.”

You nod as Jeongguk kisses your temple. He proceeds to hang the ornament on the tree, in between trinkets you got from your travels in Spain and the Netherlands. 

“And besides, you painted this so I need to make sure it doesn’t ever get ruined.” Jeongguk chuckles at you before bending down to retrieve more ornaments.

You can’t help but stare at your boyfriend whenever he’s like this: calm and content. Between the two of you, he’s the more enthusiastic one about Christmas. He will go through lengths just to make the holidays special even if he has to learn how to knit a whole ass sweater for you.

At the thought of Jeongguk knitting at a train station, you chuckle to yourself.

Jeongguk turns to look at you, “What is it, love?”

Loving Jeongguk has always been so easy. 

“Nothing… I just love you,” you reply.

Jeongguk strides the short distance between you to cup your face with his hand and kiss you. He tastes so much like the peppermint candy and home.

“And I love you, sweetheart.” He lands a soft kiss on your forehead before he steps away to go to the kitchen.

“Can you place the rest of the ornaments for us, love? I need to prepare the hot chocolate.”

He hands you the last three remaining ornaments: a clay snowman his (subtle) favorite student gifted him a year ago, a crochet reindeer you made with him when he was sick and bored out of his mind, and a cross-stitch design of a green mug with hot chocolate and whipped cream because it’s you and Jeongguk’s favorite Christmas drink.

When you were done placing all the remaining trinkets on the tree, you took a step back to admire the Christmas tree in its entirety. This year is your fifth Christmas with Jeongguk as lovers, your twentieth as best friends. Time is an illusion, they say, but to you, you have always secretly hoped your time spent with Jeongguk will be infinite and everlasting.

The lights on the tree dance as you stare at it some more. It’s only when Jeongguk wraps his arms around your waist that you’re pulled out of your thoughts. He rests his chin on your shoulder and you stay like that for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence. You feel Jeongguk gently swaying your bodies as you focus on the sounds around you: the quiet hum of the stove where Christmas dinner awaits, the soft landing of snow on the window sill, the twinkle of the Chrismast lights surrounding your home, celebrating another year of love.

Jeongguk leans close to whisper in your ear, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, Gguk-ah.”

You feel his hold tighten around you, but one of his hands withdraw to pull something out of his pocket.

“I forgot that we had one more ornament to put up.”

Jeongguk presents you a completely new ornament. It was made of resin, with gold flakes and tiny pink wildflowers surrounding it. 

“Jeongguk, this is beautiful… did– did you make this?”

Jeongguk hums. “Only the best for you.”

You chuckle at his words. It was the most beautiful ornament you have ever seen, more so because you know that Jeongguk made it himself. You always loved resin art, too.

You move so that you can hang it up on the tree, but you feel Jeongguk’s arms slightly pull you back. You didn’t get to ask why because his mouth was already against the shell of your ear once more.

“Open it,” Jeongguk says.

Your eyebrows briefly meet, wondering what other surprises Jeongguk has in store. You gently lift the top half part of the ornament, only for it to reveal a ring.

A pink, oval morganite engagement ring. 

Jeongguk hears your soft gasp and even though he cannot see your immediate reaction, he smiles to himself because he knows you’re at a loss for words.

“All these years in my life, you are the only one who has loved me beyond what I can imagine or ask for… your love is so far from what I deserve, ____, sometimes I feel like it’s so unreal. But I am a very selfish person and I only want to be loved by you and your love until we grow old…”

Jeongguk gently turns you around to face him. Your eyes stay glued to the ground, unable to handle the overwhelming love and affection you have for the man in front of you. Jeongguk lifts your chin up, his eyes now level with yours. With his knuckles, he wipes away the tears that have fallen.

“More than the ornaments and the ugly Christmas sweaters I will continue to knit for you,” you can’t help but let out a wet chuckle at his antics. Jeongguk is the only person you know who can pull off a very serious proposal with a very amusing sense of humor. His eyes soften even more as you will yourself to look into them, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want so many more Christmases with you until the last of our days, ____ because I love you so, so much.”

Jeongguk searches your eyes. They may glisten with tears, but to him, stars always dance in your eyes and he wants to look into them everyday for the rest of forever. He closes his eyes as he leans his forehead to rest against yours.

“Marry me, my love,” Jeongguk whispers against your lips. 

To you, Christmas has always been a wonderful time made even more special with Jeongguk in it. For the rest of your life, you get to love all the parts of him, and the thought of him wanting you just as much fills you with a kind of warmth unlike any other. 

Jeongguk is and will always be your Christmas miracle. 

[theharrowing]

Hope for the Holidays

Meeting someone extraordinary and deciding to leave your partner of three years wasn’t quite what you had in mind for the holiday season, but life rarely goes as planned, does it?

❄ Hoseok x Non-binary (AFAB) Reader ❄ word count: 25.9k ❄ strangers to lovers, chance encounters, slow burn, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw ❄ warnings: a smidgen of emotional infidelity (but mc tries not to!), emotionally manipulative, toxic and vindictive partner, having complicated feelings about a relationship, breaking up, hurt/comfort, falling for someone new, angst, fluff, not going home for the holidays, strained relationship with family, panic & anxiety, recreational drinking, moving on very fast, falling in love, honestly just trying to live their best lives ❄ this fic is part of a hyung holiday collab! check out the other fics by @here2bbtstrash, @gimmethatagustd and @sailoryooons! ❄ beta read by @neoneunnajimin, banner by @sailoryooons ❄ posted on dec. 2022 | read on ao3

❄ note: hi friends! this is a breakup fic, as advertised. but it is also a discover someone new fic and a feel alive for the first time in a long time fic. although mc's relationship isn't explicitly abusive, the way Ash behaves may be reminiscent of the way abusers behave so please proceed with caution. this has a happy ending, so don't fret! i poured a lot of my personal feelings into mc, their relationship to the holidays, and their strained relationship to their family. there is going to be angst and lots of fluff (and in a separate part, there will be smut, so if you are not an enjoyer of smut, then the ending of this part is also an ending.) also! shout out to @m1sss1mp for letting me use her name (sorry you were a chismosa in this story hehe i'll give you a kinder role next time! <3) since Ave is a real person, i did not describe her, so you are free to imagine she looks any way you would like!

With each buzz of your cell phone, you take a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to steel yourself. You already know what to expect, and this is not the conversation you want to be having on this bright—albeit frigid—Wednesday afternoon. 

You answer the call and do your best not to sound too nervous as you say, “Hey, Ash!” in a practiced, bright tone.

They sigh, which sends a pang of anxiety to your guts, and you squeeze your eyes closed, turning from the sun that suddenly shines far too brightly into your reading nook. 

“Baby! Hey! I miss your voice, oh my god.”

Their chipper tone brings you a hint of relief, and you smile in an effort to keep your voice smiling, as well. “I miss you too. How is everything? How are the parents?”

“Parents are good,” they respond, sounding a bit out of breath. “Dad and I just took a little hike around the land, and mom’s been cooking up a storm! They’re both stoked to see you. Any, uh…any word on that?”

Of course, Ash would jump straight to the point. You feel like mold in a petri dish, ready for examination. 

“I, uh…” you cringe. “No. No, I haven’t been able to find any good prices, and—“

Ash sighs—heavy, exasperated. “Baby, please just let us chip in,” they mutter quietly, as if to hide their words from eavesdroppers. “It’s fine, they want to help—“

“I don’t want that, Ash,” you insist, absolutely unwilling to let their parents send you any money. “Look, I’ll keep trying. There’s bound to be a holiday deal, maybe I can cope with a long layover somewhere warm…I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

It’s silent for a beat, and you inhale slowly, count to three, and then let the breath out. 

“It’s okay, baby. If things don’t work out, there’s always next year.”

You hum a weak, “mmhmm,” feeling anxiety pound at your rib cage. 

“At least you got yourself a tree,” Ash says brightly, as if attempting to save the mood. 

You glance around your reading nook, where the large, ornate pine tree would ordinarily stand, finding only pillows and stacks of books. “Yup.”

“Send me a pic! I want to see it!”

Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you do your best to swallow it down. “I w—I will. I haven’t found the perfect topper, yet, so once I do that, I’ll send a pic,” you lie. 

“Just use mine! It's in a box somewhere."

"Uh–okay, I'll look for it."

"Alright, well, I have to go. Let me know if you find any tickets! Mom and dad really miss you!” There’s an insistent bite in Ash’s tone, and you do your best to ignore it. 

“I will, baby," you respond, unable to hide the shake in your voice. "I miss them too.” 

“Bye, I love you!”

With shaky hands, you end the call, and glance around the space. A tree. If you won’t fly out to San Francisco, the least you can do is get yourself a tree. What a bother. 

The thing about living in the middle of a big city and choosing not to own a vehicle—because the public transit is okay enough to get you where you need to go—is that getting large things like an eight-foot fucking pine tree is a bit of a hassle. 

Thankfully, with the internet comes people ready and willing to deliver pretty much anything you could possibly desire, often within the span of several days. 

And that is how you wind up in the crowded foyer of your apartment building, attempting to heave a giant box toward the elevator. As soon as you laid eyes on the thing standing tall beside the mailboxes, you burst out laughing. There is just no fucking way—absolutely ridiculous. 

You probably make it two inches in the correct direction before deciding that this box is not only too tall, but too heavy to move, and instead, you sit on the foot of the steps with your head in your hands, running through a list of people you may be able to bribe to help you out, shooting off a few texts starting with folks who live nearby. 

“This is just fucking great,” you mutter under your breath. 

All of this, you’re doing to appease someone who won’t even be here to see the damn tree, just so that you can prove to them that you’re not miserable without them. 

The truth is, this is the first time you’ve really gotten to breathe in months, and having a holiday-tree-free home has been just fine. But that is a thought you do not let yourself dwell on. You and Ash have been together for three years; you have a history. Every relationship has its rough patches. This is simply one of those. And who knows, maybe having the damn tree around will brighten your mood. That is, if you can get it into your apartment.

With a defeated sigh, you bury your face in your hands and let out a heavy exhale. Why is it that the holidays always come with some sort of nonsense? This is truly the cherry on top of a towering nonsense cake. 

You are about to say fuck it and leave the box in the lobby for someone else to claim, when the front door of the building opens, and in comes a large, cold gust of wind and one of the prettiest people you have ever seen. 

They’re tall, wearing a long, camel tan jacket with fur lining the hood and perfectly framing their face—sharp yet soft, and scrunched in the cutest frown you have ever seen. 

“Shit,” they mutter under their breath in a slightly high-pitched, nasally voice. “It's cold!”

The pretty stranger meets your eye and gives a wide smile, and if you weren’t already swooning, their heart-shaped lips would have done you in. You sit up straight, beginning to worry that you are in the way of this stranger, and start to shift around on the steps that are effectively blocked by a large box.

"Need some help?" the person asks with an accent that rolls their words ever so slightly. 

You shake your head and mutter, "No, no it's too heavy. I think I'll leave it."

"Leave it here?" the person asks with wide eyes, and you nod your head. 

"Yeah."

They hum and glance around the box, then ask, "Which floor are you on?"

"Three," you respond meekly, hoping that with that information, they will surmise that it is, in fact, too big to get to your door, and that you should leave it out on the street. 

They hum again, then say, "Wait here. Two minutes!" and take off running toward the elevator. 

You stand, holding a hand out while shouting, "Wait, no, it's alright," but as they press a button, closing the elevator doors, they smile widely, holding up two fingers, convincing you to stay. 

With a huff, you sit back on the steps and take out your phone. Of course, your traitor friends have not responded to your pleas for assistance, leaving you to wait on some beautiful stranger who left in a flash, just as chaotically as they arrived.

When the elevator dings, you sit up straight and turn toward the sound, and you actually feel disappointed to find someone else exiting and walking down the hall. They pause to ask if you need help with the box, but the way they stand—chest and shoulders puffed out with a frown on their face—has you certain they are just asking to be polite.

"Nah," you say, shaking your head. "I'm waiting for someone."

They shrug and leave, and that is that. Now, you are some weirdo on the steps with a giant box who has been perceived by not one building tenant, but two, and you are ready to bury a deep, deep hole in the earth where you can go lay down and freeze to death.

Certain that two minutes have passed and the pretty stranger may have just been messing with you, you stand and begin to push the box back toward the front door. They never said what they were going to get; maybe they decided that offering you help was a mistake and that the best thing for them to do is run far away and never show their face on the third floor. You can't say you would blame them.

The elevator dings once more, and you hear the sound of wheels against the shitty linoleum of the foyer. You turn to find your beautiful building-mate standing before you with a layer of clothing shed, and a dolly in their hand. How and why they even have that device is beyond you, and you nearly cry when they wheel it up and stop it just before the box.

With an eyebrow raised, they ask, "You were pushing it to the door, weren't you?" in a teasing tone.

Warmth floods your cheeks, and you give a sheepish glance, responding, "Noooo..." sarcastically. 

"Here," they offer, pointing the dolly at you to hold onto, and you walk around them to take the handles, which come up to your ribs, holding it in place while they wiggle the box onto the rectangular base on the bottom, which sits between two large wheels. Then, they come back around and hold out their hands, muttering, "I got this," so you step aside and watch in horror as they slowly lift the far end of the box from the floor, tilting it toward their body, then begin to walk backwards toward the elevator. 

You charge ahead and push the call button, then run inside as soon as the doors open to hold the button that keeps them from closing. It is a precarious feat to get the eight-foot tall box into the small elevator with the two of you, and there is quite a bit of squishing yourselves against the wall with your feet nearly getting rolled over before the doors are able to close.

As you crane your neck to look at the person standing with their shoulder pressed into yours, they look at you and smile. 

"My name is Hoseok, by the way."

"Hoseok," you repeat, enjoying how it sounds on your tongue. You tell them your name, followed by, "They, them pronouns."

Hoseok's eyes widen, and he smiles softly. "My pronouns are he, him."

"Nice to meet you," you mutter, glad to have that all sorted out.

Hoseok opens his mouth to respond, but the elevator dings open. The fight to get out and into the hallway begins, though it is much easier this time around, and you pause briefly after exiting, allowing your heartbeat to even out. It takes you a moment to realize Hoseok does not know where to deliver the tree, and you spring into action, walking a few doors down before coming to a stop in front of yours and fishing a key from your pocket.

"Will someone be by to help you decorate this later?" Hoseok asks politely.

You shove the door open, kicking stray shoes out of the way, and allow Hoseok to enter the space. A kitchenette is to the left, with a countertop that separates it from the small dining area and living room. Ahead, past the restored wood tables and forest green couches, is a nook where the windows jut out, creating a nice, cozy space for you to sit and read. You lead the way, picking up stray clothing items, then tell Hoseok to set the box down beside a pile of books.

"No," you finally respond. "It's just me."

Sheepishly, you glance around and scratch your head as the realization hits that you don't have anything to decorate the tree with. Ash has a bin of holiday items, and you are certain that there are some that are meant for a tree, but the idea of digging through their things makes you uncomfortable.

"Actually, I don't have anything to put on this yet," you admit.

"I guess we have to go shopping, then," Hoseok says with a soft smile.

We. Just like that, Hoseok breezes into your life and makes himself at home, and you feel helpless to stop him, returning his smile with a smaller one, as you mutter, "I guess we do."

While shopping with Hoseok, you learn several things about him. The first of which is that he is from Gwangju, South Korea, which is about three hours south of the capital city Seoul, by car. He moved halfway across the globe about a year and a half ago to study fashion abroad, and since he isn't a huge traditionalist when it comes to Christmas, he opted to save his trip home for the Lunar New Year, instead. 

You also learn that Hoseok is extremely curious and animated, and he enjoys pointing at and touching things, making tiny little sound effects, and turning everything into characters for which he creates special voices. You found it alarming at first and shied away from the excitement, ducking your head and looking on in confusion. But as you eased into the afternoon with Hoseok, you found yourself pointing to things that reminded you of previous characters and moments, and laughing along. 

"It's nice to see you relax," Hoseok says over a steaming paper cup of hot chocolate, and you look up with a start, tilting your head the way he tilts his whenever you say something that doesn't sink in immediately. 

"What do you mean?" you mutter, bringing your own paper cup of cocoa to your lips and blowing over the top to cool it enough for a sip. 

"You've just been really tense all day," Hoseok continues, still holding his drink to his lips but making no move to taste it. "Not a complaint, though; just an observation."

You hum and accept Hoseok's observation. Truth be told, you have been tense for months—not just this morning. And, in fact, this time spent with Hoseok is the first time you have really laughed and let yourself go in so long, you actually feel embarrassed. Holing up in your apartment by yourself and being a recluse has been too easy, especially with the weather as cold as it has been, and you have forgotten how nice it is to get out and have a cup of hot chocolate. 

Try as you might to not let your mind wander to when things used to be this carefree and simple, you can't help it. You imagine the early days with Ash when you would meet up at the local cafes and initiate impromptu snowball fights, falling into a pile of goose feather padded fabric and giggling with snow stuck to your hair and a chill on your cheeks. 

Now it's tense smiles and words replaced by hums and grunts. You can't remember the last time you bought a gift out of the blue because you saw something that reminded you of them, or suggested trying a new eatery just for the fun of it. Even meals cooked at home are usually performed by one, without consulting the other, and you either share the food or choose to make something else.

How depressing. 

"Earth to marshmallow," Hoseok chimes, waving a hand over your face, and you blink away from your thoughts, tasting rich, warm chocolate on your lips. 

"Marsh—" you begin, questioning his choice of nickname, when you feel a stray, small marshmallow stuck to your bottom lip. You tug your lip into your mouth while warmth rises to your cheeks and set your cup down so you can bury your face in your hands. 

"Embarrassing," you groan. 

Hoseok begins to yank at one of your wrists, and you give in, smiling as your one free eye reveals his smiling face. 

"It was cute," Hoseok teases, releasing his grasp on you. 

The spot Hoseok touched tingles, and you drop both hands to the table and rub your fingers over your wrist in the hope of making the feeling go away. 

"So," Hoseok says with a wide, pretty grin, "we got tinsel, lights, some ornaments—but maybe not enough ornaments?"

You shake your head. "Definitely not enough ornaments."

"So we just need more of those and a topper, and this tree is ready to decorate!"

You nod and worry your bottom lip. Shopping with Hoseok has been nice, but you feel bad for dragging him all around downtown, looking for the perfect decorations. Why you are being so picky about the final product in the first place is beyond you, since this tree is more to appease Ash than anything, and they won't be back in time to even see the fucking thing. Why should you care so much?

"I think we should find something that is less traditional than an angel for the top," Hoseok suggests, eyes staring off into the distance as he takes a sip from his cup and lets it settle in his mouth before swallowing. "You don't strike me as an angel person."

"Like a star?" you recommend, considering the shades of gold and pretty pastel colors that the rest of the decorations are. 

Hoseok hums. "Exactly! I think a star would be perfect."

The realization hits you, sinking into your guts to swirl with all the bile and acid: You care about the way the tree looks because Hoseok cares, and you want his approval. During the entire shopping trip, you deferred to his opinion and considered his feedback. And now, here you are, sipping hot chocolate and planning the star—the piece de resistance—with him as if this tree is also his. 

If you had any shame at all—even just a single ounce of it—you would cut the excursion short, lie about something you need to do back home, and take what decorations you have back to your place to adorn the tree alone while shopping online for the rest of what you need, thus cutting all ties between Hoseok and the entire event. 

But you do not want to exclude him from even a second of this project because his company is warm and comforting, and you hate the thought of doing it alone. And sure, you can remind yourself all day that you wouldn't be doing any of this alone in the first place if you had just gone to San Francisco with your partner as is tradition, which you have done for the last two Christmas and New Year seasons, mostly to make them happy. 

But things don't always work out according to plan, and you think maybe it is time to start new holiday traditions that bring you joy. Hoseok is the only reason you got the damn thing into your apartment in the first place; he deserves to see this through to the end, as well. 

At least, that's what you tell yourself in order to abate the guilt.

With a fortifying breath, you put the compostable plastic lid back onto your hot chocolate, take a drink, and then ask, "Ready?"

Hoseok beams at you, eyes turning into pretty little crescent moons as he replies, "Ready."

Ash That's...interesting.

You Interesting? Really?

Ash I mean, it's not really Christmas-y.

You It is literally a Christmas tree. 

Ash Why didn't you use any of my decorations? Seems like a hassle to go out and buy all new stuff when I have a bin full of shit that you could have used. 

You IDK it felt weird going through your stuff.

Your phone rings, and you sigh, watching as Ash's name and smiling face appear on the screen. Beside you—on your couch, watching some shitty Hallmark movie that you have all but spaced away from paying attention to—Hoseok cocks his head to the side and knits his eyebrows, studying your sullen expression. 

"I have to take this," you grumble, standing from the warmth of your fuzzy baby blue blanket and making sure the large bowl of popcorn that sits between the two of you is undisturbed. 

Hoseok nods and reaches for the remote, but you shake your head and say, "It's fine, don't pause it," as you leave the living room and walk to your bedroom. 

Ash has already cut the unanswered call short, and you thumb through your phone and call them back. It rings twice before they pick up and let out a familiar sigh, setting your nerves on end.

"Sorry, I—"

"You can text but you can't answer your phone?" Ash snaps.

Your jaw tenses and you take a deep breath, attempting to keep your voice steady. "I was on the toilet, geez. Did you want to listen to me flush and wash my hands that badly?"

"It's not like I haven't literally watched you take a piss," they respond, and you roll your eyes.

"Pardon me for wanting a moment of privacy."

Silence hangs, and you wait for Ash to speak since they were the one to initiate a conversation by calling first. When they say nothing, you mutter, "So you hate the tree?"

"I don't hate the tree, babe, I just...I don't understand what you're doing."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Ash sighs loudly, "it feels like you're not even trying to come here, and now you're decorating the tree with shit that you went out to get yourself rather than just using what I have. It's like you're trying to cut me out of your holiday altogether, and it just feels fucking...weird."

Your gut instinct is to get defensive and question where this newfound paranoia is coming from, but although Ash is not correct in their assumption, they are also not entirely wrong. No, you are not trying to cut them intentionally out of your holiday, but it is true that some part of you has begun to pull away from them, in general. 

"Ash," you respond, keeping your voice as level and guilt-free as you can manage, "I'm not trying to cut you out of anything, alright? I just had some free time and wanted to go trudge around in the snow for my own decorations. I'm sorry if that made you feel left out."

Ash hums, and mutters, "Alright. Sorry for getting defensive."

Although nobody can see you, you shrug as you say, "Nah, I think it's a perfectly reasonable way to feel. And I'm glad you voiced those feelings."

"Thanks for being understanding," Ash says, then, after some chatter is heard in the background, they mutter, "Gotta go, babe. Love you," and hang up before you can say anything back.

As you shove your phone into your hoodie pocket, you rock in place, unsure where you want to settle your feet. It would be rude to stay in your room while your guest is on the sofa, but returning to the living room and explaining your relationship to Hoseok feels...awkward.

And you are unsure why it feels that way because it's not as if he would judge you for being in a relationship. At least, you assume that to be the case; you don't really know. It is late evening on day one of your whirlwind friendship with Hoseok, and he has already taken up more space in your life than anyone else has in months. 

After the shopping excursion, Hoseok ran to his place—also on the third floor, on the far end of the hallway—to change into dry socks and some sweatpants while you also changed, and then he returned promptly to help you clear away the piles of your books, unpack the tree, decorate the tree, and help himself to two bags of microwavable popcorn that you had forgotten were in the kitchen cabinet. 

There were talks of eating actual dinner, but Hoseok became very invested in a film about two neighbors competing to decorate their house for Christmas, so you settled on popcorn because you are an adult and are free to make poor dietary choices from time to time. 

All day, despite the ebb and flow of emotions, everything with Hoseok has felt really easy.

Hoseok is very friendly and open, and he would most likely be understanding of whatever version of the situation you choose to tell him. So why would it be awkward? Assuming today is not just a one-time thing, Ash will eventually come home and meet your new friend. So he should therefore know they exist, right?

You trudge back to the living room with an impassive smile, hoping that your presence alone will be enough and that Hoseok will refrain from asking questions. And your wish is granted as he shoves popcorn into his mouth while attempting to explain everything you missed in what he has adorably coined The Battle of the Dads. With a nod and a smile you listen, despite having no idea which dad is which in this story. It doesn't matter; Hoseok is smiling. 

Your apartment feels empty when Hoseok leaves—too quiet for comfort. You had gotten so used to the chattering, the humming and singing, the sounds of busy shopping malls, hanging decorations with hip-hop tracks playing in the background, and winding down in front of the television. This one day feels like several have passed, and you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, fighting the urge to text Hoseok, just for something to do. 

You failed to bring up Ash after returning from the phone call, but there are signs of them all over, so you reason that Hoseok has probably picked up on the fact that another person lives in the apartment with you. Earlier, when you were talking about Hoseok's life, and how he was not intending on going home for the holiday, you had mentioned that you were also not planning to visit any family, but you left out the part about Ash's family. For once, it felt good to have a conversation about the holiday season and not really think about their family at all.

It is not as if they are bad people; Ash's parents are wonderful. But there is something about being the add-on to someone else's holiday celebration that makes you feel a little displaced. And not for lack of trying on their part; Ash's mother always goes out of her way to make sure your favorite snacks are stocked, and she is very considerate with the gifts she buys you. But, no matter how hard she tries, you will always feel like an outlier. And this year, you are not in the mood to feel that way.

Perhaps, in the back of your mind, you are allowing yourself to admit that you and Ash are drifting apart a little too much, and that things will probably never be as exciting and nice as they used to be. Ash is becoming more standoffish and defensive, always assuming the worst about every little thing—even from miles and miles away. 

And you are tired. Work is stagnant, the city doesn't feel as charming as it used to, your friends are all getting married and having children, and you feel like there is nothing left to do but let the tides carry you like a hunk of driftwood. Will the waters pull you back out to sea, to discover new and exciting things? Or will they toss you onto the sand and leave you to rot in the sun for the rest of your days? It does not matter because you simply do not have the energy to care one way or another. 

Except...for today, with Hoseok. 

For one day, everything else felt tertiary; less important. Hanging out with him felt so natural and comfortable—as if you had known each other for years—and time flew past in the blink of an eye. When he disagreed with one of your suggestions, he was polite and non-judgmental, and he never attempted to talk you out of something—even when the pink tinsel you wanted was evidently "bland and inferior" to the pink tinsel he liked best, he encouraged you to buy it anyway. In the end, you bought them both, just to make him smile. 

Hoseok feels like a breath of fresh air—a tide gently pulling you away with a promise to no longer let you smash into the cliff sides over and over again. Hoseok is full of life, abundant with joy, and shrouded in mystery. Though, if you continue to play on the ocean cliche, the mysterious bit becomes less appealing, as the ocean is literally full of unimaginable horrors, but in your sleep-addled state, you reason that you can let the metaphor slip just this once.

With a sigh, you turn to your side and close your eyes. Staring at the ceiling all night is not going to do you any good, so instead, you begin to replay the moments of your day that stood out the most. Hoseok whooshing into the building like a friendly wind elemental to save you from your sorrows. Hoseok suggesting hot chocolate and taking you to a place he recently discovered and was so giddy to show you. Hoseok smiling, and giggling, and laughing, and being so calm and patient while a silent storm raged inside you. 

With a smile on your face, you fall asleep thinking about Hoseok. 

"Wait," you mutter against his lips. "I can't."

He pulls you closer, makes you whine as your bodies press together flush and fitting, like they were always meant to be.

"Of course, we can," he teases, voice far lower than you remember. 

Your palms are on his chest, and you attempt to push him away, but he holds you tighter, tighter, tighter. 

"You don't love them," he growls, words stinging like capsaicin across your lips.

You push some more, afraid to agree but far more afraid to disagree. Whatever this is, it cannot be happening. Especially not with him. 

"Give in to your desires," he growls like a wild beast. "You want me, so have me."

"I can't!" you shout, attempting to push him away. 

When you wake up, sweat beading on your forehead, you sit with a start, muttering, "I can't," under your breath. 

Your heart pounds like a drum behind your ribs, and you attempt to get your bearings, searching your bedroom for any sign that something is amiss—desperate to be out of that dream.  

If you try hard enough, you can remember the smell of Hoseok's musky, floral cologne and how, in your dream, it invaded your senses and made you dizzy with desire, against your better judgment. 

This is bad. You have only known Hoseok for one day, and already, you are having dreams of infidelity while in his arms. Your only reprieve is that you cannot imagine Hoseok actually behaving in that manner. That was purely a work of your imagination. Though, where it is coming from, is a mystery. 

Hoseok is attractive, yes, but you barely know him. Ordinarily, it takes a lot of emotional connection before you begin to feel the arousal butterflies flitting about, and although you did feel incredibly comfortable with Hoseok yesterday, it should take far more than that to have you dreaming about nearly kissing him. 

At least you manage to wake up at an appropriate hour, and rather than having to fight to get more shut-eye, you toss aside your blankets, slip your feet into a pair of bright yellow chicken slippers, and pad into the kitchen to start up your coffee pot. 

As a rule, you try to begin your day without immediately checking your phone, and you usually have no problem with going through the motions of making coffee and breakfast, consuming the coffee and breakfast, and then returning to your room to check your notifications before you shower and get on with the day. But today, as you set out the frying pan and open the fridge to grab two eggs, you find your mind wandering to your phone again and again. 

You wonder whether Hoseok is awake and if he has plans for the day. He still has classes, but he mentioned half of them are online, and you wonder if he is on campus yet, or still just down the hall. Or, perhaps, at a third, unknown location. 

Although you work as a freelance writer, you tend to have the holiday months carved out for traveling, and for that reason, you do not have much to do. The pile of books began to accumulate at the reading-nook-turned-tree-nook all thanks to not having much of anything to do without Ash around. Before meeting Hoseok, you were comfortable in the vast nothingness, but now you feel antsy. 

With your breakfast cooked and your coffee steaming up from your favorite mug, you trudge into your bedroom and grab your phone from its charger. It is only 8 AM, but you still find yourself surprised to have no notifications, and even feel a tinge of sadness. Surely your new platonic bestie would think to message you the moment his eyes opened to the new day. 

Just thinking about it makes you cringe. Seriously, who are you?

With a huff, you return to the small dining table and plop down to go through the motions of breaking fast despite barely being awake enough to be hungry. The coffee helps to perk you up, but you still feel listless and out of sorts after that very tame but alarming dream. You are no stranger to your subconscious thrusting arousal upon you at unsuspecting times over people you adore, but this...this just seems far too hasty. 

For the rest of the morning, you make motions through the apartment, navigating around the giant tree to find your copy of Bell Hooks' All About Love, and curling up on your couch with your favorite blanket. 

In a blink, your coffee is empty, the words are beginning to blur, and you stretch your limbs before getting up and walking around, glancing outside to see the early afternoon sun hanging high. 

You should go out and do something, you tell yourself. Yesterday was a blast; you should make today another blast. But you hesitate to text your neighbor, and there is nobody else who lives nearby and is not already fully absorbed in the chaos that this time of year brings. You could always go alone—something you have happily done plenty of times before—but a voice scratches at the back of your mind, telling you to text him, text him, text him. 

You Busy? I was thinking about going out to grab lunch.

You chew on the inside of your mouth while you wait, anxious for a response. When your phone finally dings—a mere thirty or so seconds later—you let out a light, excited huff of air and check the notification immediately.

Hoseok Not busy. Give me 10?

You Sounds perfect.

In a flash, you toss the book aside and jump to your feet, making your way to your bedroom to attempt to become presentable. Luckily, Hoseok already saw you dressed in typical jeans and hoodie attire with no makeup yesterday, because you were not anticipating interacting with another human being when he came breezing into your life, so you don't feel too much pressure to get done up. 

A coat of mascara to make your eyes pop, and a black sweater that is more form-fitting than a hoodie, coupled with a pair of skinny black jeans feels decent enough. You leave your hair down and find your favorite mustard beanie, then check your phone to find twelve minutes have passed since Hoseok asked for ten. 

You wonder if he is the type to take a long time getting ready, and nearly return to your book on the couch when there is a knock at your door. The sound startles you, and you call a shaky, "One moment!" as you make your way to the entrance.

When you twist your knob and fling the door open, the sight nearly takes your breath away. Hoseok's hair is parted over his forehead, and he also looks a little more put together than yesterday, despite wearing the same camel, fur-lined knee-length jacket. Beneath the jacket is a brown, blue, and white argyle sweater and light grey slacks.

"What did you have in mind?" Hoseok asks with a pretty heart-shaped grin, leaning into the doorway.

You take a step back and begin sliding your feet into chunky, brown snow boots. "Honestly, I haven't gotten that far," you admit sheepishly.

"Do you like Korean food?"

You think briefly about what your past experience with Korean food has been. "I've only had Korean barbecue, but I really liked what I had."

"How do you feel about soup?"

Soup does sound good, and you nod as you tie the strings of one boot and then the other. "Soup would hit the spot."

With a pleased hum, Hoseok says, "There's a spot kind of nearby that makes it close to how my mom does...well, as close as I will hope to get away from home."

Eager to know that little detail about Hoseok and his life back home, you agree to trek several neighborhoods over, just to have some soup. Without another word, you throw on a long, black pea coat and wrap a mustard scarf around your neck that matches your hat.

The walk through the hallway, to the elevator, and out to the front entrance of the building all feel uncharacteristically quiet, but you don't question it. There are many reasons a person might be chipper and talkative one day and not the next, and it feels weird to pry. You still don't fully know Hoseok or what kind of a person he is, and this is only day two of discovering the various sides of him. 

Despite the sun hanging high and bright in the sky, the afternoon air chills you to the bone the moment it touches your skin, and you instinctively bring your scarf up to your cheeks. 

"Does it get this cold back home?" you ask, watching your footsteps make prints in the shallow snow, which crunches under every step.

Hoseok hums. "The weather is similar. Cold in the winter and humid in the summer."

At the thought of heat and humidity, you roll your shoulders back, thankful for the cold. Soon enough, your breathing is steady, your posture is relaxed enough not to shiver, and you feel comfortable. And, perhaps, there is a warmth that radiates from your new friend, as well. 

"You wear a lot of black," Hoseok says after a block of comfortable silence. 

You snicker. "I do."

"You would look nice with some color."

Something in your stomach lurches at Hoseok's words, but not necessarily in a bad way; it's hard to put your finger on it. Sure, the thought of looking nice for Hoseok is something that has crossed your mind, but it is much easier to have these thoughts without the added pressure of knowing that he has an opinion on the matter.

"Color is overrated," you tease, turning to watch Hoseok's expression go from calm to feigned offense. "Anyway, you wear enough color for the both of us."

Hoseok laughs, then playfully nudges your shoulder with his, throwing you momentarily off balance. It's so subtle he could not possibly detect the way his touch makes your world spin—throwing you off trajectory entirely—but you can feel it. 

Conversation the rest of the way is so light and relaxed, you keep remembering that you and Hoseok only just met yesterday. You point out cafes, bars, and restaurants that you like and discuss going to them one day together as if there is no question that your future is now forever entwined with his. 

It feels nice to talk about things with no pressure or fear of being judged. So far, the only judgment Hoseok has offered is that you would look nice wearing color—something you can hardly hold against him. He is, after all, a fashion major.

"Does the black make me seem like a gloomy person?" you ask somewhat out of the blue when the conversation lulls. 

Hoseok chuckles beside you. "It was just an observation. Don't let it make you feel insecure."

"It doesn't," you respond somewhat insistently. "I'm just curious."

"Not gloomy," Hoseok says, offering you a smile. "Just less...I don't know...bright?"

The uncertainty in Hoseok's voice could be from worrying about whether you are likely to be offended, and you give him time to sort it out.

"I guess, yeah, gloomy. Black makes you gloomy."

You can't help but laugh and nudge Hoseok with your shoulder. He gasps in surprise and holds his hands up defensively, whining innocently, "I was just repeating what you said!"

All you can do is giggle as Hoseok links his elbow with yours and trudges you forward quickly. It takes about thirty minutes to arrive to your destination, so your cheeks are numb as you walk in the front door, and warmth instantly settles over your skin, tingling ever so slightly. 

The place is quaint, with wooden tables spread throughout and a bar that overlooks part of the kitchen on the far end. Hoseok leads you past all of the tables and pulls out a seat at the bar. Then, he calls to the older woman behind the counter, and they banter in Korean. 

Hoseok speaking his native language kicks up a new feeling in your chest—seeds taking root and germinating into sprouts. Whereas he is usually slow and calculated in his speech with you, with the older lady he is fast, giggly, and emphatic—alive in an all new way. It is beautiful, and you do your best not to stare. 

The older lady disappears into the back, and Hoseok apologizes for speaking for so long and leaving you out. Warmth crawls up to your cheeks when you observe how flushed and giddy he is, and you shake your head and say, "It's alright. I don't mind."

"Do you drink alcohol?" Hoseok asks, and you nod, cracking a smile. 

"From time to time."

"Have you had soju?"

You think you have had soju at the Korean barbeque spot and say, "Maybe? It was clear and reminded me a little of sake."

Hoseok nods and smiles widely. "She's going to warm some up for us."

You grab a menu and look through it, suddenly overwhelmed by the choices. Soups and stews, rice and meat bowls—some with an egg on top. Everything looks amazing. But you want to have the meal that Hoseok says tastes like home.

"Which one is the soup that you mentioned before?" you ask, running your finger somewhat aimlessly over the pictures. 

"Oh, you don't have to get that specific one," Hoseok says as his lips turn into a slight frown. "Everything here is great."

"I want to," you respond with playful defiance, making Hoseok laugh.

"Alright. It's this one," he points to the menu. "Kimchi jjigae. You can get it with pork, tofu, seafood, or a combination. I usually get pork and tofu."

You repeat jjigae quietly to yourself as you read the description, and decide on getting pork and tofu, as well. "That sounds good. I'll have that."

"Should we just get different things to share?" Hoseok suggests. "Or are you afraid of my germs?"

A laugh rocks through your chest before you can stop yourself, and you lightly smack Hoseok on the arm. "We can share. I think I can handle a little soup spit."

There's a sparkle in Hoseok's eyes as he observes you, and it makes your heart pound wildly in your chest. You duck your head down, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze, and pretend to read the menu despite everything blurring and becoming impossible to parse. 

"How about some appetizers, so you can try some different things?" Hoseok suggests, voice softer than before. 

You can't bring yourself to meet his eye and nod instead, looking over the options. Rice cakes in sweet, spicy sauce sounds appealing, and you point at the photo, unsure how to pronounce tteokbokki. Hoseok hums happily, suggests also getting fried chicken, and then it's settled. When the older lady returns, Hoseok slips between speaking Korean and English, sometimes repeating himself in both languages, and once the food is ordered, he gets to work pouring the two of you small glasses of soju.

"She speaks English too, but it's nice to fall back into Korean," Hoseok explains. 

"Understandable," you respond, feeling a myriad of questions bubble up. You want to learn everything there is to know about Hoseok, about the language he grew up speaking and the city he moved so far away from. But you also feel at a loss for what to say and instead accept the small, warm cup of clear liquid. 

"Repeat after me," Hoseok says, "geon—"

"Geon—"

"—bae."

"—bae."

Hoseok taps his class to the side of yours and says, "Geonbae," and you recite it with a smile, then follow his lead of drinking the liquid back.

The taste is subtly heady and bitter, and not too strong, but it warms your mouth, throat, and chest instantly. Hoseok watches expectantly with his eyebrows raised, and you nod with a smile, telling him, "It's good."

As Hoseok pours the next round of shots, it dawns on you that you are still bundled up, and the warmth is beginning to feel stifling. You peel off your hat and scarf and set them on the counter beside your glass of water, which has a foot or so of extra space before the wall. Then, you begin the precarious feat of wiggling your shoulders and arms out of your jacket while sitting in a somewhat narrow space. Hoseok follows suit, shrugging much more easily from his jacket. Then, he slides your cup of soju over, and you pick it up. 

"Does geonbae mean cheers?" you ask, holding the glass up for him to tap his against. 

"It means empty cup," Hoseok responds cheerfully, with the same shimmering gaze as before.

"Ah, like bottoms up," you say as he taps his cup to yours. 

Hoseok cocks his head, and you tap your middle finger against the bottom of the cup, then mimic throwing it back without actually moving enough to spill any liquid.

"Oh, yes!" Hoseok says as he grins. "Bottoms up!"

You take your shots, setting the small glasses down with a light thunk. The warmth slowly spreads throughout your chest, giving you a slightly dizzying haze as sweet intoxication ripples at the edges of everything. 

"I wonder how many strange sayings and words there are for you to learn, in English," you muse.

"Too many," Hoseok responds with a laugh. "You will have to teach them all to me."

Once again, your future feels woven with his, and you nod and say, "I will do my best."

After two more shots, the appetizers arrive, and you feel somewhat overwhelmed by the inviting smells, unsure where to start. Hoseok picks up his phone and takes a photo, then grabs two sets of wooden chopsticks and hands one to you. As you pull the chopsticks from their paper sheath, you remember Hoseok taking a photo of his hot chocolate at the cafe yesterday and you smile to yourself at the thought that he likes to document things. 

"Do you post those online? Or just keep the photos for yourself."

"I post them usually," Hoseok responds, taking a piece of fried chicken and blowing on it before taking a bite, wincing and hissing as he perseveres through chewing, grumbling, "Fuck that's good," with his mouth full.

You decide to try the chicken first, finding a smaller piece and giving the skin a little nibble before blowing on it to cool it down. Ultimately, like Hoseok, you give in too soon and take a steaming hot bite, quickly inhaling air with the hope of cooling down your mouth as the chicken heats it up.

The skin is crispy and crunchy and paper-thin, with a perfect blend of spice that brings out the flavor of the juicy meat inside. You hum and close your eyes, savoring it to the sounds of Hoseok gasping and hissing, undoubtedly eating a second piece before letting it cool.

The tteokbokki is equally as delicious, with a rich, spicy flavor that is delicately sweet. And when the soup comes out, you can barely contain your excitement as you grab a plastic spoon and have a taste. The broth is hearty and reminds you of home in a way that is inexplicable and impossible to articulate—a warm, comforting home that is not yours. Hoseok waits quietly for your opinion, and when your wide-eyed surprise turns to soft appreciation, he smiles and nods, hastily shouting something to the older lady who brought out the food.

"It's perfect for winter," you mutter after a second slurp, and Hoseok hums. 

"It's a really simple dish to make, and sometimes I break down and make it myself, but there is something special about receiving it from someone else."

You nod and watch as Hoseok's smile downturns into a slight frown. 

"My mother always made it when I was sick. She swore it could cure anything. So when my heart feels sick thinking about her, I eat it."

"Ah, homesick," you mutter, suddenly feeling a heavy sadness hanging over you.

Hoseok nods, shrugs, then smiles. "I made the choice to move away, but sometimes it feels hard to be so far, you know?"

"I do know," you respond, using chopsticks to grab a piece of the pork. "Sometimes, even if the choice is necessary or good, it can still be painful to reconcile."

At this, Hoseok watches you, eyes soft and intent. Embarrassed under the undivided attention, you duck your head and eat the pork that has cooled at the end of your chopsticks. 

"You're wise, marshmallow," Hoseok teases. "I appreciate it."

"I need a better nickname," you groan past half-eaten pork, and Hoseok shakes his head, muttering that it is cute, then joins you in eating.

By the time the dishes are empty, you are full and warm and ready for a nap. Hoseok huffs out a sigh as he sits back in his chair, and you nod, agreeing with the sentiment.

"Caffeine?" Hoseok suggests.

"Caffeine sounds amazing," you groan, sitting up and stretching your limbs. 

"I know just the spot," Hoseok says—because, of course, he does—and you both stand and begin to put on your jackets before heading out into the cool afternoon air. 

Coffee leads to walking the long way home, which leads to Hoseok inviting you to his apartment for more soju and another terrible Hallmark movie. You concede without much of a fight—only a few groans at the mention of the movie genre—and that is how you wind up curled up on Hoseok's cozy, brown faux leather couch, falling asleep against the armrest with a belly full of soju and food and a head full of him.

For the next two weeks, Hoseok says he has to keep his head down and focus on studying. He has exams in all of his classes and rattles off a list of essay, presentation, and project deadlines that are also coming up, over the phone on Monday afternoon, in between classes.

"I just wanted to call and tell you that I will be distant, even though we live in the same hallway."

You smile to yourself, glancing out into the city from your nook window beside the tree that the two of you decorated two days ago. "That's fine. If you need me to bring you anything, just let me know. I can grab coffees or something."

Hoseok hums and says, "Maybe. I will probably be on campus a lot more, only coming home to sleep. But if I am home and need to call in reinforcements, you're at the top of the list."

You chuckle at Hoseok's response despite feeling a tinge of sadness at the thought of not seeing him for a little while. It feels silly to admit how much you expect to miss someone who only just met and began spending time with, and when Hoseok teases you about it, you very flatly tell him that you are an adult and will handle his absence just fine, thank you very much.

But you do miss him. It surprises you how much, in fact, considering you hardly know him, all things considered. Although, even as you tell yourself that over and over—an attempt at talking yourself out of caring as much as you do—you know that it is not true. Hoseok is radiant and open and loves talking about himself as much as he seems to enjoy learning about you, and he has shared quite a lot of himself over the span of just two days. His presence is hard not to miss. 

Tuesday afternoon, when Hoseok calls to catch up between classes, you learn that gender and identity are fluid to him and that—although Hoseok uses he, him pronouns and presents as male—he loves to play with androgyny and fashion in a way that attempts to erase any cisheteronormative assumption. He tells you that he sticks with he, him pronouns because things back home are a little different when it comes to gay and trans rights, and, for now, changing the language is something he is not fully ready to embrace, but he thinks he feels closer to how you describe your feelings, and that warms your heart. 

"I can't really put into words what I think about gender," Hoseok mutters before sipping loudly from a compostable coffee lid. "But I feel disconnected from it. Indifferent."

"Me too," is all you could bring yourself to say as you stare at the bright red cover of your open copy of All About Love that sits sprawled open, page-down on your lap. Suddenly, you find yourself overwhelmed with feeling a deep, strong connection to him.

"Anyway," Hoseok continues brightly over the phone, "I have to run, but once finals are over, I want to show you some of the pieces I have designed."

"I can't wait," you respond happily as the call comes to an end.

On Wednesday, when your phone dings thrice in a row, you drop your book onto the table and grab your phone excitedly, only for the feeling to dissolve into disappointment when you find the messages are not from whom you want to hear. 

You almost don't open them until you take a moment to read the third message that has come in succession, sitting on top of the notifications, and decide that whatever Ash is going on about needs to be addressed.

Ash So you're definitely not coming for Christmas, right? I know you said you would look into it and search for deals, but you're not actually doing that, are you?  I wish you would just be honest with me.

With a deep, fortifying sigh, you close your eyes and center yourself. This is a conversation that you have been putting off, but you are tired of always feeling put on the spot by them, and it is partially your fault for not being forthcoming. 

You I have looked, but not as much as I could have. I'm sorry, I guess I'm not in the mood to travel this year.

Not ten seconds after you send the message, your phone begins to ring, and your anxiety spikes to the ceiling. Talking to Ash right now feels like willingly throwing yourself into a lion's pit covered in fresh meat, and you end the call and shoot off another text.

You I'm not in a great place to talk. Can we text instead?

Ash Are you fucking serious?

Your hands tremble, and you take another breath, but this one is less deep than the last, and when you close your eyes, tears form around your lashes. When did things reach this point? You and Ash used to be open and honest and receptive to one another's problems, and now everything they say is laced with impatience and vitriol. Which of you was the first to begin pulling away? When did the pulling begin?

You Geez, Ash. I'm sorry that this is upsetting, but behaving this way is not going to make me change my mind.

Ash Behaving what way, exactly??? Because last I checked, you were the one telling me one thing while wanting another, and you have also been keeping my hopes up. My family has been eager to see you, and now I have to let them down.

You Every single thing I say and do seems to piss you off. You were angry when I had to stay behind for work, angry when I bought my own tree decorations, and now you can't respect the fact that I'm not in the mood to travel to someone else's family event for a holiday that I'm not a huge fan of, in the dead of fucking winter. Even if I had been excited to fly out, the ticket prices were already exorbitant. And during all of this time, you haven't once asked how I am, how things have been going with work, or what I have been doing to keep myself busy. You just complain and take everything personally and treat me like an inconvenience.

Ash Wow.

You Yeah. Wow.

Minutes pass, and you brace yourself as you see Ash typing a response. 

Ash Please can I call you? I just want to hear your voice.

You almost concede and tell them yes. A part of you would even like to hear their voice, hoping to find comfort in their familiar cadence and tone. But you know that all they are going to do is backtrack and offer empty apologies that will only last until the next time they blow up again. Or, worse, they will just yell over the phone until you feel forced to hang up on them.

You I don't want to speak right now. I need some space to think.

Ash That's rich coming from someone who is not only physically far away but has the entire apartment to themself. How much more space do you require, exactly? Should we fly you to the moon?  My family has been nothing but good to you, and this is how you treat them.

With an exasperated sigh, you fire off your response—

You And this is exactly why I didn't want to talk to you. Not an ounce of understanding for how I am feeling, just jab after jab about how inconsiderate I am when I have been telling you for years that I would like a quiet holiday all to myself or just the two of us. And I understand if you want to be with your family, but please understand that maybe I don't. Being on the sidelines of someone else's event is really fucking difficult when all I can think about is how much I wish I had that too. No matter how nice your parents are, they still aren't my parents. I just want one fucking holiday with a clear head and no stress, and you can't even grant me that because you would rather be pissed off at me for not doing what you want than try to understand how I feel. I'm muting my phone now; I need to walk away from this conversation for a bit. 

—and then mute your phone before shoving it between the couch cushions. All at once, you heave for air and fall forward against the armrest as tears pour into your open hands. Things have been rocky for a while, but when did they get so bad? Ash used to be your safe space, and now all they make you feel is anguish and frustration. 

Although your phone is muted, you still hear it vibrate as a message comes in, followed by another. There have been times in recent weeks that you have considered blocking their number altogether, but at that point, you figure you would be better off just ending the relationship.

Tears continue, and you breathe deeply, attempting to quell them. A good cry is cathartic, yes, but this is not how you would like to spend your sunny Wednesday afternoon. Determined to pick up the pieces and attempt to have a good day, you decide a trip to the cafe will be nice. You can get something warm and covered in marshmallows. Maybe you can take your laptop and start working on a new writing project to take your mind off things for a little while. 

Between the cushions, your phone vibrates consistently—an incoming call. At first, you sigh and squeeze your eyes closed, eager to ignore it. But then you remember it could be Hoseok calling, and you fish the device out, careful not to hit the answer or end call buttons in the process. Hoseok's name greets you, and you fumble to answer before it disconnects 

"Hey, Hoseok," you say with an obvious shake to your voice. 

"H-hey," Hoseok responds carefully. "Did I call at a bad time?"

You sniffle and let out a chuckle over how unconvincing you must sound. "No. I mean, I'm not having the best day, but it's always a good time to talk to you."

"Corny," Hoseok responds, though the laugh in his voice is more subdued than usual.

"God, it was, wasn't it?" you cringe, replaying what you just said and how it must have sounded. 

Silence hangs, and you fiddle with a loose thread at the bottom of your shirt as you try to come up with something to say that is unrelated to having a fight with your partner of three years. Ordinarily, Hoseok launches into how his day is going over the phone, and his silence makes your tension rise. 

"Are you sure it's not a bad time?" Hoseok asks again, softly.

"I'm sure," you respond, voice unsteady but more measured than moments ago. "What did you call to tell me?"

Hoseok hums and says, "I actually called to ask about your day. Everything here has been boring me to death and I need some excitement. But whatever made you cry doesn't sound too exciting, so now I don't know. I don't want to pry."

"Ah," you respond, letting your shoulders fall. Then, you remember you were going to set out to try to enjoy the day, and sit up straight. "Well, I was going to leave the house and get some fresh air to clear my head. Do you want to talk to me while I get bundled up and head out?"

"Sure," Hoseok beams, smile evident in his voice. "Where are you going?"

You get up and stretch your shoulders, arching your back as you stand on your toes, then let out a yawn. "I was thinking about the cafe we went to for hot chocolates. I might take my laptop and do some writing."

"Ooh, writing?" Hoseok asks excitedly. "What kind of writing?"

You make your way toward your bedroom to grab your favorite black hoodie, then you pause. Hoseok telling you that you would look good in color rings out in your mind, and you drop the sweater back onto the bed and head toward your closet, putting your phone on speaker so you can set it atop your dresser and look through the shirts that are hanging. 

"I don't know. I usually write articles and essays for money, but occasionally, I like to write short stories."

"Like fanfiction?" 

You can't help but laugh at the suggestion, and although you have certainly penned a steamy scene or twenty in your day, that is not quite what you had in mind. "It concerns me that that's your first thought."

"Write a story about the handsome stranger who turns your world upside down and makes you believe in love again."

Hoseok's words are playful, but you can't help but wonder if he is trying to tell you something without saying it explicitly, and it makes your hands tingle and your heart pound. "Sounds unrealistic. Aim lower."

Hoseok laughs loudly and brightly, and you chuckle along, though panic still surges through you. Surely, Hoseok does not have those kinds of feelings for you, and is only joking, right?

You pull out a forest green sweater with a loose turtleneck and pull it over your head, shoving your arms through the holes and attempting to steady your breathing, but the garment makes you feel somewhat claustrophobic. Still, you keep it on and grab your phone, making your way to the dining table, where you have left your hat and scarf. 

"First the Hallmark hate and now this? You really are not romantic at all, are you, marshmallow?"

The nickname makes you scoff as you pull the hat over your head and loosely wrap the scarf around your neck. "On second thought, maybe I will not get any writing done," you chide, getting bundled up. 

Hoseok laughs again, and you picture his wide, heart-shaped smile and eyes scrunched into tiny crescent moons. You grab your black coat from where it hangs beside the front door and shove your feet into your chunky brown boots, placing your phone atop a black Vans sneaker that sits on the top shelf of a very chaotic shoe rack. 

"Almost bundled up and ready to head out."

A sigh comes through the phone, followed by, "I wish I could join you."

"Me too," you say softly before you can stop yourself. 

Thursday passes quietly, with a few texts exchanged from a very stressed Hoseok. You wish him luck, sending more kaomoji than you might ordinarily use, then get dressed to head out to the cafe again. Getting out and walking in the cold air and warm sun has been doing wonders for your mental health, and having a sweet treat to look forward to is the perfect incentive. 

You still haven't opened the messages that Ash sent the day before, and you are not sure when you will.

On Friday evening, after not hearing from Hoseok all day, he calls. You are in the middle of scrolling through recipes for kimchi jjigae and wondering if making a soup from scratch for the holiday is a challenge you are up for, when his name glows brightly on your screen.

"What are you doing?" Hoseok asks, rather than saying hello.

"It's top secret," you respond. "What are you doing?"

Hoseok chuckles—music to your ears. "Keeping secrets already? I'm hurt."

"I'll reveal it soon. Consider it a Christmas gift."

You think you may hear Hoseok gasp, then he mutters something in Korean before saying, "Really? A gift for me?"

Warmth spreads to your cheeks, and you hum. "It's nothing big. Don't get too excited, okay?"

"Nope! This is exciting. Shit, now I have to do something for you."

"Absolutely not," you chuckle, closing your laptop with the soup recipe left open in a tab. "Don't feel obligated to do anything."

Silence, save for the sounds of Hoseok humming softly, hangs between you. Then, he continues. 

"Hey, so, I don't have anything too big coming up on Monday. We can hang out this weekend if you'd like."

Hope blooms behind your ribs, and the sprouts that have begun to grow behind your ribs stretch toward the sun for sustenance. "Of course I would."

"Awe, missing me already?"

"Shut up," you complain with a laugh.

Hoseok hums. "It's fine if you do, because I miss you. Tomorrow?"

Your heart pounds as you agree, "Tomorrow."

Thrice since Wednesday, your phone has buzzed with messages from Ash, and each time you have ignored them, clearing the notifications and allowing the little red dot beside your messenger app to increase its number. This morning, as you open your messenger app to find out what time Hoseok was thinking about hanging out, you hover a thumb over the row containing the message preview from your partner and open Hoseok's text thread, instead. 

You What time did you have in mind? 

Certain that Hoseok will not respond immediately, you set your phone down on your dresser and begin pushing the various hangers around in your closet, looking for something with a splash of color. A red flannel button-up catches your eye, and you grab a white long-sleeve tee to accompany that and your standard black skinny jeans. You may be trying to be less gloomy when you visit with your friend, but he will have to pry the black denim from your cold dead hands. 

Your phone dings and you step out of your closet and grab your phone, unlocking it before checking the notification. When you find yourself peering down at a wall of text from the person you were not wishing to hear from, your heart sinks. Although you do your best not to read every message, your eyes flit over certain words—ungrateful, selfish—and you back out of the app, wishing you could erase the image from your mind—childish, a waste of time.

Another ding accompanied by a gentle buzz from your phone causes you to jolt, nearly dropping the device to the floor. "Shit," you mutter as you fumble to unlock the screen, checking the notification bar first. Luckily, this message is from Hoseok, but your excitement is now dimmed.

Hoseok Just showered. I could be ready in 20? Or is that too soon?

You 20 is fine. I was already getting ready for the day.

Hoseok What if it only takes me 15?

You Then show up in 15.

Hoseok See you soon! :)

You :)

As you get dressed, you remind yourself that today is a day for positive, happy feelings, and you do your best not to let the weight of the other messages bring you down. There is something to be said for their accusations—you are being childish and selfish by ignoring them flat out. But you cannot ignore the way your anxiety rises when you think about confronting the conversation, even if you remind yourself that the longer you wait, the worse it might become. 

At least you are making an effort to get out of the house and see a friendly face rather than sitting in the apartment in a bubble of self-loathing like you would otherwise be if you stuck to doing what you had been doing prior to The Great Tree Incident, as you have begun to call it in your head. So, whatever Ash is assuming of you and spitting at you daily without giving you a chance to gather your thoughts and form a response is likely only partially true. 

You apply a little mascara despite knowing it will just make your lashes sticky and eventually sweat onto your cheeks, then apply a nice lip balm to ward off chapped skin, rubbing your lips together while attempting to stay grounded and not get so far into your head that it will be impossible to come out by the time your friend arrives. 

And, when he does show up with his signature single knock followed by three quicker knocks, you give yourself a once-over in the mirror and decide that red flannel is definitely your look before trotting from your bedroom to the entryway.

When you swing open the door, you can't help but smile widely. Hoseok must have gotten the flannel memo, though his is less traditional than the lumberjack-type style, and instead, has larger squares in muted blues, greens, and yellows against white. He wears a white tee underneath, khaki pants, and his camel tan jacket overtop. 

"Wow!" Hoseok exclaims, holding his arms out. 

You are unsure whether he is using his arms to signal that he is impressed with your choice, or if he is expecting a hug, and you hesitate, lifting your arms after a beat and cocking your head. With a chuckle, Hoseok steps through the threshold, into your personal space, and wraps you in an embrace, squeezing you tight. You reciprocate the hug but in a looser fashion, awkwardly giving him a pat with your hands when you are unsure whether it has lasted too long. 

"Nervous?" Hoseok asks, and you hate how easy you must be to read. 

"Nah," you respond, "just a little tired still."

"Well, you're in for a treat, because I found a new coffee shop on Instagram that has been going viral for their latte art, so let's go get caffeinated."

And that is how your Saturday began—and your third day of spending nearly every waking moment with Hoseok. The latte art was just the tip of the iceberg. After deciding to grab a reasonable lunch and not just snack on pastries from the cafe, the two of you found a noodle bar nearby and had udon and some sake. Then, you walked to a neighboring park and moseyed along with two fresh cups of coffee and a bit of a buzz. 

"Should we go to a bar later and keep this momentum going, or do you want to have a chill night in, falling asleep while I watch another holiday movie?"

You roll your eyes and bump your shoulder into Hoseok's, groaning at the mention of more holiday movies. "Don't you get sick of that sappy shit?"

Hoseok chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight side hug that nearly throws you off balance. "No. I like sappiness and romance. Don't you?"

You scoff and shake your head, though something settles in the pit of your stomach. Sadness, perhaps. Envy. It's hard to put a name to, and you do your best to ignore it. 

"No. I don't know. Maybe? I've never dated someone who was romantic," you admit. "Or someone who has made me want to be romantic, you know? I guess if someone I loved enjoyed romantic gestures, I would do them, but it's not my default."

Hoseok hums, gives your shoulder a squeeze, and lets you go. You are curious about the hum, and the squeeze, and the hug itself, but you swallow it down and decide not to ask. 

"This could be romantic," Hoseok says after silence has settled, and you glance at him to find him looking out over a frozen body of water covered in ice. Trees line the area, giving it a calm, serene feel, and around you, people chatter quietly and walk by, their feet thudding softly against the wooden bridge on which the two of you stand. "What I mean is, it's not something that needs to be forced or bought. Small, quiet moments count, as well; enjoying something simple together."

Eager to sway away from the thought of the two of you sharing a romantic moment, you circle back to the topic at hand. "Okay, but the romance in those movies is always so over the top."

"True," Hoseok concedes with a playful smile. He turns to you, eyes soft and full of something you dare not try to define, and you smile briefly and turn away, looking over the scenery once more. "Over the top is fun to indulge in from time to time. You're just a scrooge."

"Oh, okay," you chide, stepping back from the wooden railing and continuing your walk down the bridge, in the direction you had been going. "I'm a scrooge. Right."

"I have hope for you, though," Hoseok says as he catches up, falling into step beside you. 

"Oh thank god for that," you mutter under your breath, pulling your coffee to your lips. 

Hoseok laughs and nudges you, nearly making you spill, and you swat at his arm playfully. "You just need more corny holiday films to melt that icy heart and you'll be a true romantic in no time. A soft little marshmallow."

After spending the afternoon walking around, you and Hoseok agree to return to your apartments for new socks and dry shoes before you decide on what else to do. There is a bar nearby that you and Ash used to frequent, and you remember the conjoining pizzeria being pretty good. Hoseok agrees to the idea the moment he returns to your door, and you head back out into the chilly winter evening. 

The bar is only two blocks from your apartments, and it is a bit of a dive. The tables are all scratched up, the music is a little too loud, and the drinks are cheap. The bartenders have been working there for ages, and tend to know the regulars pretty well, making it a welcoming atmosphere, overall. 

Hoseok surprises you by suggesting whiskey shots to go with your cheap cans of beer, and you agree. Two shots and cheap beers in, the world has a haze around the edges, but you feel good, and Hoseok is so friendly and pretty, and everything is great. The two of you order a medium pepperoni pizza to share, and when it comes, you thank your lucky stars to have greasy bread to sop up the alcohol.

After finishing your pizza, the two of you sit with your heads close, looking at the jukebox app on your phone, making selections from the comfort of your rickety barstools, when someone taps you on the shoulder.

"Hey," the voice calls, and you turn to find Ave, one of Ash's friends, standing with her arms folded over her chest.

"Ave, hey," you respond in a forced chipper tone, not exactly thrilled to see her. 

Ave nods her chin toward Hoseok. "Who's this?"

"Oh," you say, half-turning toward Hoseok before turning back to her, "this is Hoseok. He lives in our building."

With a hum, Ave nods her head and squints her eyes. "Are you not spending the holiday with Ash's family?"

A chill runs down your back, and you shake your head. "No, work kept me here too long, and then flights got too expensive."

"But you work from home, right?" Ave presses. Anger rises, and you keep your smile pulled tight, lest you scowl. "So you could have just gone."

You exhale, steeling yourself. "Is that all?"

Ave takes a small step back and cocks her head. "Excuse me?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," you grit through a stiff grin. "So if you have no other questions, I would like to get back to hanging out with my friend."

With a huff, Ave turns on her heels, and you flag down the bartender for two more shots before downing a quarter of your third beer. You can see that Hoseok is fidgeting with his hands on the bartop, but you try not to draw too much attention to the situation, and instead stare ahead, desperately searching for something to say to change the topic, but falling short. 

"You don't have to tell me," Hoseok says, leaning in to make sure you can hear him over the music. Your eyes fall to your phone—the screen of which has gone black, abandoning your task of finding songs to play—and you feel guilt begin to rise to your chest and throat. "But if you want to talk about anything, I'm here."

"Thanks," you respond, turning to offer Hoseok a smile, aware that your eyes betray you. "I should talk about it but I guess I'm not ready."

Hoseok nods in response as the bartender drops off two shots, and you slide his glass toward him, then pick yours up. "Gunbear!" you shout, which is what you said earlier when you couldn't remember the word Hoseok had taught you, to Hoseok's utter delight, with the hope of lightening the mood. 

"Geonbae," Hoseok responds with a smirk, tapping his glass to yours and shooting back the bittersweet liquid. 

Three shots and three beers may just be too many, and you stumble out of the bar with your elbows linked, leaning into Hoseok's side. The night is still relatively young, and you would rather continue to hang out than go to bed, but you also feel nervous to ask, not wanting to intrude on Hoseok's time any longer than necessary. Luckily, Hoseok does not share the same worry.

"So, my couch or yours?" he asks as you approach your apartment building. 

"Yours is cozier," you respond, leaving the thought of not wanting to return to a home surrounded by Ash's stuff left unsaid. 

Hoseok hums and leads the way through the building, to the elevator, and you ride to the third floor in silence, eyes glued to the silver doors ahead. Blurred figures are reflected back, standing with their elbows linked together, and suddenly, you worry that you might be doing something wrong. But you don't want to drop your arm to the side, letting go of Hoseok; you need your anchor now more than ever. 

The doors slide open, and Hoseok leads you down to the far end of the hall in silence, stumbling slightly and letting out soft giggles here and there. You knock your hip into his for comic effect when he over-adjusts and knocks slightly into you, and this sets off a game of back and forth of hips hitting hips and feet stumbling to trudge forward. By the time you reach his door, you are doubled over laughing and gripping onto his arm like a lifeline. 

As Hoseok fishes his key from his pocket, you lean against his door, attempting to get your bearings. Three whiskey shots and three cheap beers have never gotten you so drunk before, and you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to replay the night, but all you can picture is Hoseok's pretty smile flashing over and over again. 

With a hum, Hoseok nudges you, and you open your eyes to find him looking at you with concern. 

"I was trying to sort out how we got so drunk from just those shots and beers," you grumble, words coming out in a slur. 

Hoseok laughs as he slowly opens the door, which you continue to lean into, stumbling as its momentum carries you over the threshold into his apartment. "We had sake with lunch and a bunch of caffeine."

The laughter that rocks through you at the realization that you had been drinking earlier in the day threatens to throw you completely off balance, and you reach with your free hand to try to grip the open door but end up flailing, instead. Hoseok grabs your arm with his free hand and gently pulls and rotates you forward, steadying you on your feet, and you stare at him with surprise.

"You're strong," you mutter, only realizing now how close the two of you are—inches apart. 

Hoseok smiles and nods, then releases his hold on your arm and allows you to move into his apartment. You stand a while longer, however, still surprised by how Hoseok effortlessly handled you, and by how, in this tiny, confined space, he smells like a freshly picked bouquet on a cool autumn morning. 

"May I..." Hoseok begins, nodding his chin toward the rest of his apartment, and you snap out of your daze, clear your throat, and take a step back and around, pressing your back flat against the wall to give Hoseok room to close the door, bend to remove his shoes, and walk into his kitchen. 

Your shoes slide off easily enough, and you attempt to chuck them in a mindful place, in the general direction of his neatly organized rows, but they tumble out into the middle of the floor, where you decide they shall live because bending over right now feels precarious and you need water. 

"Since you'll fall asleep anyway, I'll pick the movie," Hoseok calls from the kitchen. 

You can hear popcorn popping away in the microwave, followed by the sound of the sink running, and you shrug your jacket off, hang it on a hook above the shoes and round the corner from the small entryway. You find Hoseok has removed his sweater, and he stands in a white tee and khakis. His arms are much more toned than you had expected for his otherwise willowy body, and before you can help yourself, you wonder about his chest, then immediately blink heavily and instead try to conjure images of kittens laying in a basket that has a pretty bow tied on the handle—anything to clear your mind.

"Did you hear me?" Hoseok asks, and you meet his gaze to find his eyebrow raised. 

The microwave dings and Hoseok opens it up, retrieves the bag of popcorn, and tears it open. You watch as the steam wafts up, past his smiling face. Then, he dumps it into a large plastic bowl and turns you. 

"Loud and clear," you respond with a small smile. "I have simply given up on trying to argue about the movie. The choice is all yours!"

Hoseok approaches and holds the bowl out, which you reach out to grab. Then he taps you on the chin with the pad of his index finger and says, "So good for me," sending a chill down your spine as he turns back to the kitchen to grab the two glasses he had filled with water. 

You have no idea why those four little words leave you stunned, standing in the threshold of the kitchen as if you have been glued to the spot, but when Hoseok turns back toward you, you clear your throat and will your feet to move, turning in a daze toward the living room where his cozy brown sofa awaits. 

Hoseok walks past you, hurrying to put the glasses down and grab one of the three blankets that lay hung over the back of the couch. He likes to lay a large, fuzzy royal blue throw down, then cover himself up with a thin white blanket with a birds of paradise pattern, or with another fuzzy throw that is soft and thick and has a black and white plaid pattern. 

As you approach, Hoseok reaches over the sofa for the bowl of popcorn, and you open your palms, handing it over while still feeling a bit discombobulated and holding your hands open for a few seconds too long. Hoseok either does not seem to notice the shift in your demeanor or he is unfazed by it. You have never heard someone tell another they were "so good" for them outside of a sexual context with the tone his voice took, but maybe he is too drunk to realize what he said. 

Hoseok turns on the TV and pats the cushion beside him, telling you to sit. As you make your way around the small wooden table, to the end of the couch your phone starts to vibrate in your pocket. You attempt to ignore it, but it keeps going and going, stopping by the time you take a seat, only to start up again. 

"Fuck," you mutter as you pull your phone from your pocket at glance at the screen to find Ash's name and face lighting it up.

You silence the vibrating and sit back with a huff, then drop your hand to the cushion with the phone clenched tight, keeping your gaze on the TV. "What movie did you have in mind?"

Hoseok hesitates, then asks, "Do you need to take that?"

"No," you respond quickly but softly. "I don't need to."

"That person at the bar..." Hoseok begins, but he trails off as your phone starts to buzz again, lighting up the space beside you. 

You end the call and open your messenger app, to type, "Trying to sleep. Text and I will respond in the morning." Then you set your phone screen face-down on the cushion. 

"Sorry," you mutter. "I can shut my phone off."

"Is it important?" Hoseok asks cautiously, voice slow and measured.

"It is," you admit, swallowing a lump of worry as your heart pounds, sending the room into a dizzying spiral. "But I don't want to deal with it right now. I should, but...I just don't want to."

Your phone buzzes again, just once to signal a text has come through, and you squeeze your eyes closed, nausea pooling and threatening to rise. 

Gently, Hoseok places a hand over your knee, and you open your eyes to find his expression worried—pleading. "Can I ask why?"

All at once, your breathing becomes shallow, tears threaten to spill, and you have to gasp for oxygen. "They're my—" you begin, then swallow saliva that has pooled too quickly under your tongue. 

"I'm in a—in a relationship," you try again, eyes falling to your hands, which are clenched tightly together against your thigh. "But I want to end it. I've been wanting to for a while."

You have never voiced it before, and now that the words are spoken to the universe, a sob rattles through your chest, settling in your throat, and you attempt to breathe past it, finding the task difficult.

"Oh," Hoseok says, moving his hand away from your knee. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," you mutter softly, suddenly feeling guilty for keeping something like this from your new friend for the entire week of your friendship. "I didn't want to lie, I just...they're away with their parents for the holiday, and...it's been nice pretending they aren't coming back."

Hoseok remains silent, and your anxiety rises to great new heights as you wait for him to respond. Of course, you have no idea whether this information will matter to him at all or not, but you imagine that he might feel upset that you haven't been as forthcoming about your personal life as he has been about his. 

When Hoseok says nothing, you turn to him and mutter, "Say something," instantly feeling regret over the distant look on his face.

"I just..." Hoseok trails off, throat bobbing as he thinks. "I guess I saw the photos of the two of you and didn't think much of it. Nobody else has been around, nobody was going to help you with that Christmas tree...maybe I was seeing their stuff all along and assuming it was also yours."

"To be fair," you make an attempt at lightening the mood, "most of the shoes by the front door are mine."

Hoseok cracks a smile, undoubtedly because there are many pairs of shoes by the front door, and the thought of them all belonging to one person is a bit ridiculous. But then his lips tug back into a frown, and his eyes fall to his hands.

"I don't want to tell you that you should leave, and I don't want to shut you out when you seem to be going through something difficult," Hoseok says, bringing his earnest, doleful gaze to meet yours. "But I was really starting to have feelings for you, and this news is kind of hard to take."

All at once, the air feels knocked from your chest, and you heave out a silent sob, blinking through a fresh set of tears. Hoseok's hand lifts slightly and twitches as if he wants to reach out to you, but he pulls it back and shoves it beneath his thigh. 

You nod and take this as your cue to leave. Hoseok is not asking you to, but it clearly pains him to sit with you, and the last thing you want to do is hurt yet another person, especially one who you have quickly come to care for so much.

"I'm gonna go," you mutter softly, watching as Hoseok's eyes fall to the floor, and he nods. "I need to deal with this, and then we can talk."

Hoseok doesn't look at you as you leave, simply muttering, "Okay."

In a daze, you walk back to Hoseok's front entrance to step into your shoes, letting your heels bend the backs, wasting no time to put them on correctly, and grab your jacket from the hook, draping it over your arm with a sad sigh. You slip out the door as quietly as possible, twisting the nob as you pull it shut, then releasing it slowly. 

The fluorescent lighting in the hallway is bright and boring into your brain, and you stumble down to your door as quickly as you can, fishing your key from your jacket pocket and fumbling to get it into the lock. The familiar smell of your apartment fills you with a heavy emptiness, and tears begin to pour once more from your eyes as you drop your jacket and key to the floor and step out of your shoes. 

All you want is to throw yourself into bed and disappear from the world, but you make a pitstop in the kitchen, pulling a glass from the drying rack and shoving it into the slot on your fridge that produces water. You only have the energy to fill the glass halfway, then you stumble out and pause, making a choice.

If you go to the bedroom, you will undoubtedly climb under your covers and cry yourself to sleep with your head buried half under your favorite pillow. But if you go to the living room, you can sit and read through Ash's messages once and for all, and make a choice. 

As you pad toward the couch, you tell yourself that your decision cannot be swayed by Hoseok admitting that he is starting to have feelings for you. Especially considering you have no idea what he is thinking right now—what if his feelings change after tonight? You can't say you would blame him. 

With a huff, you sit and pull the soft baby blue blanket that is bunched up on an armrest to drape over your knees. Then, you take a deep, fortifying breath, hold it for a few seconds, and slowly release it. The whiskey and beer continue to swirl and knock you off your axis, but you feel more sober than you did stumbling into Hoseok's apartment less than an hour earlier.

First, you read the messages that came in from Wednesday, sent just after your novella about feeling misunderstood. 

Ash Ignoring me to "clear your head" sounds more like shutting me out, but okay. Do whatever you fucking want, just like always.  I just think it's funny that you had nothing to say about this trip before and then waited until after I fucking left to drop the bombshell. How long have you been planning not to come? You are so fucking ungrateful. 

And then you read their texts from Thursday—

Ash Are you seriously going to leave me hanging this close to Christmas? How selfish are you??? For three years, I have put up with your fickle, shitty moods, and this is how you repay me? This is childish, even for you.  How am I supposed to wrap my head around everything when you make me feel like it has all just been a waste of time? You know how much Christmas means to my family, why are you acting like this?

—and from Friday.

Ash Baby, please just talk to me. 

And finally, you read what was sent tonight after you ignored their call at Hoseok's place. 

Ash Are you fucking joking? Pick up the phone.

You Trying to sleep. Text and I will respond in the morning.

Ash Trying to sleep??? Less than an hour after Ave saw you at the bar with some guy??? I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I need to know who this friend is and why you haven't bothered to mention him to me. Ave said you were rude, which sounds like you, but it still raises concerns if you were giving an attitude simply because she was asking about him. This is fucked up. I can't believe the person you've become.  Maybe I shouldn't come back home once the holiday is over.

Your thumbs shake as they hover over the keys, and instead, you bite the bullet and dial Ash. Everything you want to say to them feels too big to say over text. The tone rings for so long, you wonder if they might not pick up. But then, they do, and your heart sinks a little.

"Trying to sleep, huh?" There is a bite to their voice that makes the hairs on your neck stand tall.

"Ash—"

"Tell me what is going on."

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. "Maybe you should stay there for a while."

Silence hangs, and when Ash speaks, their voice is meek. "What?"

"I can mail your things."

"Wait, baby, what are you saying?" Ash asks, sounding panicked.

Numbness fills you, warm and heavy, and you open your eyes to stare past the tree—a dark, looming figure without its lights plugged in—out the window. A golden glow dapples through the thin curtains from the streetlights below, and you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

"We haven't been happy for a while. I don't know when it began but...I want it to end."

Ash sighs, then lets out a humorless laugh. "So that new guy is more than just a—"

"No," you interrupt firmly. "He's a friend, and that's all. I wouldn't do that to you, or to him. That's not fair."

"When did you meet him?"

"A week ago," you admit. "I couldn't get the tree upstairs and he saw me struggling and helped me."

"A week ago? You told me you bought the tree before then."

"I know. I originally didn't want it at all. Funny, how I got it to appease someone who isn't here to see it."

"So he lives in the building?" It's more of a statement, sounding accusatory. 

"Yup."

"And you're sure you're not fucking him?"

Anger builds, and you grit your teeth. "Don't do this."

"So you're really breaking up with me?" Ash practically shouts, voice shaking. "Over the fucking phone, two weeks before Christmas."

"Yup."

"Wh—"

"Look, I know you haven't been happy, either. You've been so fucking cold lately; I don't know who you are. So, consider this your gift from me this year. I'm putting an end to everything before it could get any worse and we could become any more miserable."

"Oh, fuck you!"

All you can do in response is sigh. Truth be told, you feel really good—like this should have been done months ago, but neither of you had the guts to see the problem, much less voice it.

"You can't just break up with me!" Ash pleads, voice breaking. It feels like a final test to hear them on the verge of tears and have no emotional reaction of your own.

"I'm sorry. I can find a new place if you want to return to this one, or I can mail your things in the new year."

"Baby, please—"

"I'm happy to draw a contract promising to send your half of the security deposit when I move—"

"—you can't do this!"

"—just let me know what you feel the most comfortable with."

A loud sob comes through the phone, and you fold yourself in half, leaning forward to rest your forehead against your knee. Intoxicated or not, you know you are doing the right thing and that you need to be patient, now. But you are also fucking exhausted.

"You c-can't just break up with me," Ash sobs, sniffling loudly.

"I'm sorry," you say flatly, making no attempt to show emotion. 

"You are not fucking sorry!" Ash shouts before breaking down into more sobs. 

Tears do threaten your waterline, and when you move to readjust your bent forward position, one even falls down your cheek. But you do not sob, and you do not feel all that sad. You are simply letting go. If anything, you feel lighter. 

"I need sleep," you say after a long moment filled only with Ash's anguish as the backdrop. "We can talk more about this tomorrow."

"Fuck you. I never want to talk to you again."

You yawn and sit up straight, stretching your back. "Be that as it may, we still have to figure out the living situation, or the stuff situation. Whichever it comes down to."

"I hope that new boy knows what a fucking coward you are!"

"I can always look for a new place if you need to move back for the time being."

"I hope he breaks your heart twice as hard as you fucking broke mine!"

"Just let me know what works best for you. We have time; I don't want to rush you."

"Stop it!" Ash screams, and you wince, pulling your ear an inch away from the phone. "How are you so fucking heartless? Aren't you sad at all?"

With a sigh, you lean your head to the side, against the backrest sofa cushion. "I've been sad for months. For months, you have been cold and callous and distant. For months we haven't been intimate—have barely had a conversation about anything but work. We don't cook together, we don't go out together. I am done with feeling insignificant. I loved you, and we had some good times, but I don't want to do this anymore."

With another sniffle, Ash says, "Fine. We're done. If I am so fucking terrible, then, by all means, shut me out. But nobody else will love you like I do."

"Sure," you respond with an anger-tarnished smirk. "They'll love me better."

And with that, you hang up and drop your phone to the couch, then let your face fall to your palms to rub the heels of your hands against your eyelids. Exhaustion covers you in a thick blanket, and you grab the glass of water, take a nice big gulp, then abandon it on the table to take your phone with you and go to bed.

Hoseok Good morning, sunshine!  Thank you for giving me the space to think. I'm sure leaving wasn't easy, and I honestly hated to see you go, but it seemed like we both had some soul-searching to do. I would like to catch up and chat over coffee when you are feeling up for it, though I fear it will either have to be today or next Friday, because of exams and all that. If today is too soon for you and you need more time or space, I will respect that. And if not, I will be looking forward to seeing you later.

You smile and hug your phone to your chest, then stretch and get out of bed. At the very least, your friendship with Hoseok seems intact, which is the best news you can hope for. Anything beyond friendship is something the two of you will have to build up to and figure out along the way.

You Today would be nice, actually. I could use a friend to talk to if you have the energy to listen to me finally open up about all of this.

This morning, you skip breakfast and jump straight to taking a quick shower, letting the steaming warm water beat down against your muscles for a little longer than usual before washing up and getting out. As you towel off, you do your best not to rush, allowing your mind to be clear and patiently ready for whatever this day may bring. 

Once you are finally dressed in the same green turtleneck you wore earlier in the week and your signature black jeans, you make your way to your bedroom and find your cell phone sitting face up with one new text message.

Hoseok I definitely have enough energy for both of us. I hope you haven't already had breakfast.

You I have not. And I am showered and dressed, so I could be ready for breakfast as early as right now.

Hoseok See you in 10. :)

Although you feel optimistic about the day ahead, you worry that things may become a bit emotional, so you skip the mascara, instead deciding to pull your hair back from your face, pinning it just above your ears and attempting to keep the back and sides as tame as possible. 

As ready as you'll ever be, you make your way to the entrance and pick up your discarded jacket and keys from the floor, then search around for your scarf and hat, wondering if you had worn them to—and, consequently, left them at—Hoseok's place. You look around a bit, but, ultimately, decide that one day with your ears and cheeks out in the cold air will be fine. 

Several minutes pass before Hoseok's signature knock pulls you from your thoughts—which had led you to meander into your living room to twirl aimlessly on the balls of your socked feet—and you make your way to the front door, plastering on your brightest smile as you pull it open. 

Hoseok is bundled up with cheeks pink from the cool winter air, and he is holding a bag full of to-go containers and a drink tray with two coffee cups. 

"Oh!" you exclaim as you retrieve the cups and take a few steps back into the entranceway to give Hoseok room. "I didn't realize you meant you would bring breakfast."

With a soft, perhaps apprehensive smile, Hoseok says, "Well, I didn't think either of us would want to have a heart-to-heart in a restaurant. I don't know about you, but I hate to cry in public."

Gently, Hoseok nudges the front door closed behind him with his foot, and you reach out to grab the bag while the tray balances on your other hand, so Hoseok can get out of his jacket and boots. 

"You were anticipating crying?" you tease. "Interesting turn of events."

Hoseok gently sets his boots among your chaotic pile of footwear and unravels a royal blue scarf from his neck. "Well, I am the romantic one, after all."

You turn and take the items past the perfectly good dining room table to the living room and set everything on that table, instead. As you begin to unpack the boxes, the smell of fruit and maple syrup hits your nose. 

"I got us pancakes," Hoseok explains as he joins you on the couch, "and peppermint mochas. I actually placed the order after your first text, and received it after your second. Talk about perfect timing."

Excited to dig in, you turn to Hoseok and flash him a grin. "Perfect, indeed."

Hoseok offers a small smile, and you get to work unpacking everything and immediately digging in. The pancakes are fluffy and sweet, complemented nicely by strawberries and blueberries—which are just slightly tart—and salty pads of butter. There are also sides of bacon and sausage, which you slather in the rich, thick maple syrup.

"Wow," you groan with a mouthful, and Hoseok hums in agreement. 

The two of you eat in near silence, with only groans and hums voiced. Once the containers are empty, you grab your paper coffee cup in both hands and adjust on the cushion with your legs bent, facing Hoseok. He takes the last two bites of his food, then has a drink of his mocha and sits the same, turning to you and leaning against the backrest of the couch.

For the first time since he has arrived, you finally take in the sight of him. His hair is parted over his forehead, and he wears a simple black turtleneck tucked into tight-fitting black slacks. 

"Now who's dressed gloomy?" you tease, and Hoseok gives a soft smile, eyes falling to his hands. 

"I wasn't sure what to expect," Hoseok admits, "so I dressed for the worst."

"Well, why don't we start from the top? I'll tell you everything that I wasn't telling you before, and then we'll go from there."

Hoseok nods, and you take a deep, slow breath. You start from the beginning with Ash, how you had been together for about three years, and how you usually went to their parent's place for Christmas. You briefly explain how—despite how wonderful their parents are—being there makes you feel like an outsider. And, if you are being totally honest, getting closer to the parents of someone who you were beginning to drift away from felt disingenuous. 

You explain not wanting to travel, putting it off, and ultimately buying a tree because Ash insisted that if you were going to be spending some of the holiday season alone, you should at least do so in style. Hoseok nods and listens attentively, only pulling his gaze away from time to time to look down at his fidgeting hands that cradle his coffee cup, before looking back at you.

"And that brings me to the day you found me on the stoop, ready to leave the damn thing to die or be stolen in the hallway. When we were watching The Battle of the Dads, I was in my bedroom arguing with them over whether or not my tree was festive enough, because of course, they hated our choice of decorations and wondered why I didn't just use theirs, instead."

"You seemed unhappy when you came back, but it felt rude to pry."

You nibble on your bottom lip. "Honestly, if you had asked me about it, I would have told you. I wasn't planning on keeping my relationship a secret. It just felt so good to forget a little."

"And when I called last week and you had been crying," Hoseok mentions gently. 

"We had been fighting over text. I finally admitted that I didn't want to go to their parent's place, and that I wasn't actively looking for tickets, and they were just so angry and defensive, and unwilling to see my point of view."

"That's rough."

"I haven't been perfect," you admit. "The spark between us has all but died out months ago and I have been allowing myself to become numb rather than try to rekindle it. I guess I wanted them to try harder, too, and it already began to feel like the relationship was over."

Hoseok nods and takes a drink from his mocha, and you take the opportunity to have a sip, too. It is perfectly balanced between mint and chocolate, and you hum with delight before resting the cup against your knee and diving into the conclusion. 

"So, anyway, I broke up with them last night."

Hoseok's head shoots up, and he watches you with wide, worried eyes.

"They had been nasty over text all week, bombarding me with messages despite me not sending anything in response, and it just became so clear that they did not have my concerns or interests at heart. When I called, after I left your place last night, they were quick to accuse me of cheating with you and told me they hope you break my heart one day, even after I insisted we were just friends. Then they sobbed and shouted, and didn't seem to care at all about my reasoning. So I told them it was over, and in the end, they agreed that it was for the best."

Hoseok's eyes seem misty with tears, and he sets his cup down on the table, then opens his arms. "Can I hug you?"

You smile and nod, reaching to place your cup on the table before walking on your knees across the couch and allowing yourself to fall into Hoseok's arms. His familiar light, floral musk fills your senses, and you wrap your arms around his ribs, smiling as he pulls you into a tight embrace. 

"Are you alright with everything?" Hoseok asks against your head, voice reverberating from his chest to your cheek. "Are you sure you made the right choice?"

"Honestly, I feel amazing," you admit, and Hoseok squeezes you tighter. "I am sad when I think of little things that I have lost, but over the course of the last year or so, I have felt like a ghost merely existing in this apartment with them. I can't do that anymore."

You loosen your hold on Hoseok and begin to sit back, and he drops his arms and watches you settle in front of him. "And, I feel like it's only fair to tell you that, in a lot of ways, you have helped me realize that this was something I needed to do." Hoseok's eyes widen, and you worry that he may take it the wrong way, so you continue to explain. 

"Even before last night, when you admitted to maybe having feelings for me, I felt a lot of platonic love and appreciation from you in such a short amount of time, that it honestly blew me away and made me wonder why the fuck I had been settling for someone who wasn't giving me even an ounce of that."

Slowly, Hoseok reaches for your hands, and you place your palms in his larger ones, smiling when he gives them a gentle squeeze. "I wanted to talk to you about that."

Anxiety and anticipation race through you, and you nod, doing your best to seem perfectly calm, despite the storm brewing within. "I meant what I said. Since pretty much day one, I have felt a connection with you, and I have wanted to spend every waking moment near you and speaking with you. The affection was not all platonic, but I was also trying to show my feelings without being pushy because it was impossible to gauge whether or not you had feelings for me, too. And now I understand why."

Embarrassed, you look down at your hands, and Hoseok gives them another gentle squeeze. 

"Do you...have feelings for me?" Hoseok asks softly, with a slight tremble to his voice.

For the first time since the start of the conversation, tears well, and although you try to blink them away, one falls down your cheek. You nod in small, quick movements, then finally utter what has been blooming behind your chest for a week. "Yes. I do have feelings for you."

Hoseok looks stunned—mouth agape with eyes wide and brimming with tears, and you smile, then softly shake your head. "I didn't fully realize it at first. Or, rather, I wasn't ready to let myself. There were moments when you would say or do something that gave me butterflies, but I would try to ignore it. I didn't want to be unfaithful, even emotionally. Although, there were times when I think I was. But then you told me how you felt, and I played back different moments from the last week and realized that, if I let myself, I would feel the exact same way."

With a pleased sigh, Hoseok brings your hands to his lips, leaving a soft kiss against your knuckles, and you smile as the flowers behind your ribs bloom brightly. It feels so good to have everything out in the open, you never want to keep a single thing from Hoseok again. 

"If you do want to be more than just friends, then I want to take things a little slow," Hoseok says, lips moving against your skin as his warm breath ghosts between your fingers. "At least, I want to wait until after this week. Our friendship was already whirlwind, and, if we're on the same page, I honestly don't know how long I will be able to hold out before I want more."

"I can wait a week," you respond with a grin, feeling adoration swell at the sight of his wide, eager grin. 

The rest of the day is spent on your couch, watching holiday movies back to back. You manage to stay awake for one and a half before curling up against a pillow placed on Hoseok's lap and drifting to sleep while he plays with the hairs at the nape of your neck. 

When you wake up to the ending credits of what might be the second movie—but could also be a third, for all you know—Hoseok stretches and rubs his hand over your shoulder, down your arm.

"I should get going. Although I don't have much to do for tomorrow, I have a lot to do for Tuesday, and I should get a head start."

"Sounds good," you say with a yawn, and you sit up to stretch your arms out and fall against the backrest of the couch. 

"I'll call you everyday," Hoseok promises, lifting a hand to caress your cheek ever so gently before dropping it.

"I hope you do," you respond, feeling lightheaded both from having just woken up and from Hoseok's gentle caress. 

"On Friday, after my last final, we'll talk about this some more, yeah?"

You nod, smile, and say, "Yeah," feeling hopeful.

For the next week, Hoseok does call every day. 

He spends a chunk of Monday with you on speaker while finishing up a sewing project, pausing what he is saying from time to time to let a machine whirr loudly in the background.

On Tuesday, he only has time between classes to tell you that he hopes you have a lovely day, and on Wednesday, you don't hear from him until late evening, when you are returning home from a trip to the convenience store because you have been feeling a bit lonely and wanted to soothe your weary soul with chips. 

"You sound a little down tonight," He remarks as you unlock your apartment door and quietly close it behind you. 

"Yeah," you admit, "I find myself missing you a lot. But it's alright. I have Friday to look forward to."

Thursday, Hoseok calls in the morning, nervous for his big final presentation; in the afternoon, antsy after showing his pieces to the professor and to his class; and on his way home late in the evening to say he thinks he did well, and that your well wishes in the morning have helped him get through everything. 

Then, on Friday, Hoseok calls between exams, telling you to be ready by 5 PM sharp. He instructs you not to dress fancy, so when 4 PM rolls around, you settle on wearing the red flannel with the first few buttons undone and a form-fitting black tee underneath. You apply some mascara and lip balm, then proceed to pace around your apartment for a while, realizing you still have a little over thirty minutes before he is supposed to meet you. 

As you settle in to do a little reading, your phone dings with an incoming text. The rational part of your brain knows that Hoseok is likely not messaging while taking his exam, but you are antsy and unlock your screen, clicking on the notification with reckless abandon. And, of course, it is not from Hoseok. 

Ash I have been giving it a lot of thought, and I am not ready to let you go. I know things haven't been great for the last several months, but what we had before that was amazing, and I know we can find that again. Please reconsider. I will be coming home as planned on the first weekend of the new year, and I would like for us to talk and reconcile.

The wind feels knocked from your sails as you read over Ash's message, and your eyes prickle with fresh tears. The absolute fucking audacity, after everything you have been through—everything you have voiced to them—for them to steamroll through it all and demand a reunion.

You I am disappointed that this is the conclusion you have drawn from our last conversation and the texts that came before it, and I have no desire to reconcile. 

You hate how quickly your pulse goes from antsy over seeing Hoseok to frantic and angry to be communicating with Ash, and you lay back on the couch, waiting for their inevitable response to come through with a ding and a buzz. 

Ash You are being so unfair, you know that, right? I'm pouring my heart out to you and all you can say is no.

You Coming from the person who didn't listen to a word I said over the phone. If you really do care about how I feel about any of this, then you will be able to clearly see that I am unhappy and ready to move on.

Ash But I'm not.

You I don't know what to tell you, Ash, but we're not getting back together. If you really do plan on coming back here, then I will begin looking for a new apartment and put my stuff into storage for the time being.

When Ash says nothing in response, you sit up and begin to pace around, once more. Threatening to move out is more or less empty at this time of year, and you would hate to leave the convenient proximity to your favorite neighbor. You hope that, as per usual, Ash is all bark and no bite.

A knock at your door pulls you from your spiral, and you flounce to the door, flailing your arms happily. As you swing it open, you only briefly check to make sure nothing is in Hoseok's hands before throwing your arms around his shoulders and taking a nice, deep inhale of his scent. 

"Wh—hey, marshmallow," Hoseok greets, voice surprised, yet soft and deep.

With a pleased and somewhat exasperated sigh, you loosen your hold and let your head rest against him. Hoseok's arms gently wrap around your sides and give you a squeeze. 

"They're tormenting me again and I thought I was going to have an anxiety attack," you admit, feeling Hoseok's hold tense slightly, briefly. 

"Your ex?"

You hum in response and take a step back to get a good look at Hoseok's pretty, understanding face. He continues to gently hold you, and you rub your fingertips over the hair at the nape of his neck. "Sorry, that's not a pleasant way to greet someone."

Hoseok chuckles and slowly begins to move forward, forcing you to step backward, into your apartment. Your heart pounds, heat rises to your cheeks, and you do your best to keep your eyes on him. 

"A hug is the perfect way to greet someone," Hoseok counters, closing your door gently with his foot and spinning you until your back is flush with the wall. "And I want you to always tell me what's bothering you."

The two of you stand so close that one of your legs is slotted between his and one of his, yours. His breath is warm as it ghosts your face, and you can pick up a hint of coffee on his breath. 

Ordinarily, this is where the two leads of a story would lock lips, moan in tandem to let out all the pent-up feelings between each other, and tighten their grasp on one another, desperate to never let go. But this is not a corny holiday film, and you want to allow Hoseok to make the first move. 

"I've missed you," Hoseok says as he leans in and brushes his lips gently over the apple of your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Instinctively, you tip your head to the side to give Hoseok access to anything he would like. He leaves a soft kiss against your cheek, and one on your temple, then he releases his hold and takes a step back.

You realize you had been holding your breath, and you release it in a slow, shaky exhale, voice coming out ragged. "I've missed you too."

"You look great," Hoseok beams quietly, heart-lips smiling wide. 

Hoseok's hair is styled partially off his forehead, with some bangs hanging parted, just above his eyes, and he has a fresh undercut with his short sideburns coming to points around his ears. He wears a black turtleneck with a black and white knit sweater vest overtop, tight-fit black slacks, and black boots. No jacket, this time. He is absolutely stunning.

"You look—" you begin, losing the words as you examine him up and down, smiling when your eyes meet his. There is a hunger in Hoseok's gaze you have never seen, and you mutter, "—ah-amazing," as the heat of his stare threatens to set you ablaze and turn you to dust. 

"I thought we could go to the dive down the street and celebrate the end of my semester and your breakup with some pizza and beers," Hoseok says as he lifts a hand and gently places it below your chin.

You can't help but chuckle, feeling the mood lighten despite the heat that radiates from his skin to yours. "Pizza and cheap drinks is how you want to celebrate?"

Hoseok grins and shakes his head. "I've been craving the pizza."

With a nod, you concede. You would have suggested something a little nicer to celebrate such important life events, but if Hoseok wants pizza and two-dollar cans of piss beer, then that is what he will get.

"Alright," you say with a lift of your eyebrows, "let's go."

Your whole body trembles as you bend to slip on some black boots—sleeker than the ones you tend to wear in the snow, but similar to the ones he wears. These are not warm-weather footwear, but being that the bar is close, you figure your toes can take it.

Once you are bundled in your favorite mustard scarf, Hoseok takes your hand, linking your fingers between his, and tugs you toward the exit. You lock up and allow yourself to be dragged down the hall, giggling as you stumble to keep up. Once the elevator doors close behind you, Hoseok turns and steps into your personal space, caging you in with his arms, and you feel your breath get stuck in your throat. 

"You seem so nervous," he teases.

"A little," you confess softly.

Hoseok hums, cocking his head to the side, and you can't help but chuckle at how simultaneously adorable and sexy he is. 

"You're making me nervous by getting in my face so much," you complain, grinning. 

Hoseok lifts an eyebrow and smirks. "Scared I might kiss you?" 

You open your mouth to respond, but you are so taken aback by his forwardness, and the opening of the elevator doors pulls you back to reality, leaving you dizzy and fumbling around loose vowels. 

Hoseok chuckles, mutters, "Cute," and tugs you through the building and out into the cold. 

The two of you walk hand in hand to the dive. It's a raucous affair inside, full of others who you presume are wrapping up their semester. In the back of the room is a small two-person couch with a dingy wooden table, and you slip your hand from Hoseok's and nod to the corner.

"I'll grab the seats, you get the drinks."

With a nod, Hoseok approaches the bar, and you make your way through the small crowd, to the worn, ripped black leather couch that wheezes as you sit on it. You glance up to find Hoseok leaning against the bar, placing an order, then you take a deep breath and pull out your phone, curious to see whether you have any messages. None. 

Hoseok returns with two shots of whiskey, then quickly spins and returns to the bar for four cans of beer cradled between his slender fingers and a long metal stand wedged in his armpit with a plastic card attached to the end displaying the number 13. You stand to slip the number out of his grasp to place it in the center of the table, then take two of the cans. Hoseok sits beside you with a huff and holds up both of his cans as if wanting to call cheers with two at the same time. 

"I got us pepperoni again," he announces. "To the illusion of freedom!"

You lift both cans and tap them to his, then take a drink from one, followed by the other. The first taste of cheap beer is always uncomfortably sweet, and you wince slightly as your taste buds adjust. 

"The illusion of freedom?" you ask, setting one of the cans down and settling with your body angled toward Hoseok. 

Hoseok nods and leans in, speaking over the music, "My semester is over, but I return in the fall. And your relationship is over, but I intend to sink my claws in soon."

Your pulse quickens, and you scoff in an attempt to hide just how affected you are by Hoseok's sudden change in demeanor. This new side of Hoseok is dangerous, and you are eager for more. 

"Is that so?" you ask, feigning resistance. 

Hoseok leans in, placing a hand gently on your knee, and speaks low into your ear. "I see how shy I make you. Am I wrong?"

You shake your head in small, quick movements and mutter, "N-no."

"Good," Hoseok responds, smacking a kiss to your cheek before sitting straight and causing your brain to buffer momentarily as you stare into space, then blink back into reality. 

Hoseok sets down his beer, then grabs both shots of whiskey and hands one to you. "Bottoms up!"

"Geonbae," you shout in response and tap your glass to his before shooting it back. 

The first shot of whiskey is vicious the way it settles over you in a thin blanket of warmth. You roll your shoulders back, feeling yourself loosen up just enough to lean in and sneak a peck on Hoseok's cheek. The startled look that melts into a smile kicks up a swarm of butterflies in your tummy, and you chuckle, then sit back in your shared seat. 

"You're a menace," you shout as you pull your beer to your lips and have a sip, eyes trained on Hoseok, who leans toward you. 

"Is that so?"

You nod. "I had no idea what kind of monster you would be once given the freedom to flirt with me."

Hoseok laughs, throwing himself back against the small sofa as his shoulders jolt and bob. He looks so pretty and carefree, and you want to kiss him stupid. 

"This is nothing!" he finally shouts once he has gotten his breath back. 

"Oh?"

"I'm holding back a lot, trust me. I don't want to rush anything; you're fresh out of a breakup. And I want to be more than a rebound."

You know that there is no ill intent in Hoseok's words, but they do make you feel a tinge of sadness, so you lean forward and take Hoseok's free hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. "You would never be a rebound. Even if we jumped into a whirlwind relationship before I had a chance to heal from my breakup, you would be so much more. But I appreciate the caution. We should take it a little slow."

The gaze Hoseok fixes you with is soft and warm, and you smile to match his. There is so much you want to express, but the bar is loud and you feel content with what has been said, to this point. 

The moment the pizza is set before you, your stomach groans, and you lean in to take a slice, flopping it onto a paper plate and settling back with it. Its warmth is welcome, and you hardly let it cool before taking a bite, letting the cheese and grease ooze into your mouth, hitting the spot. You understand why Hoseok has been craving it. 

The two of you eat and drink mostly in silence, and when all of the beers are empty, Hoseok returns to the bar for another round. In your pocket, a buzzing signals an incoming text, and you sigh before pulling out your phone. 

Ash I wish you could just be honest for once. Ave says you're at the bar again with the same guy, and the two of you are holding hands. How am I supposed to believe your intentions were pure before you broke up with me?

You Man, Ave really needs to get a life. 

Ash That's all you have to say?

You Nah, but what's the point? You aren't going to listen. 

Ash Try me.

Alcohol emboldens you, and you chew your bottom lip, ready to make a big fucking mess of things. To hell with it. 

You It's true that I have been holding hands with Hoseok tonight. Before tonight, we were just friends, spending most of the week speaking only on the phone, giving one another space while he finishes his semester, and I allow the breakup to settle over me. And now, we are treading the territory of becoming more than that.

Ash Wow.

You It's called moving on. You should try it.

Ash Fuck you.

You I'm good! Anyway, I have better things to do than argue. Have a good night.

Surprisingly, Ash does not fire off any snarky closing remark, and when Hoseok returns, you slip your phone back into your pocket and glance up to find Hoseok approaching with two more shots.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" you tease as Hoseok hands you a shot and taps his to yours, bent over the table.

"I'm trying to get us both drunk," Hoseok responds innocently. "We're celebrating!"

"Bottoms up!" you shout, met with his, "Geonbae!" and you shoot the liquid back. 

Hoseok takes the glasses, returns to the bar, and comes back holding two cans. You drink the beers while leaning in close, bumping shoulders and foreheads while people-watching and loudly singing along to the various songs that play just a bit too loudly. 

Then, you close out the tab and stumble out into the cool, winter night. It is still fairly early when you shuffle down the hallway and onto the elevator, and without a word spoken between the two of you, Hoseok leads you to his apartment, to his cozy sofa, where you fall asleep in his arms, watching some corny holiday film.

Waking up on Hoseok's couch used to feel awkward. The discombobulation of getting your bearings and realizing you had let your guard fall so far with someone who was not your partner always set off panic in your guts. 

But as you sit up in a daze, still drunk and wrapped in a soft, thick blanket, you smile at the sight of a sleepy Hoseok stirring below you. As he opens his eyes and his lips crack into a soft grin, endearment blooms and bursts behind your ribs. 

"You should get to bed," you grumble, poking at his sides.

"Don't want you to leave," Hoseok whines, tugging you closer.

You sigh; you also do not want to leave. "Soon," you say, pushing away from Hoseok's warmth and stretching your limbs. "I'll be ready to stay the night with you soon. And not cramped up on the couch."

Hoseok whines, and you will yourself to stand, tugging on his arm to encourage him to sit up. "Go to bed and stretch your limbs. I'll text you in the morning."

With a groggy smile, Hoseok nods and says, "Okay." 

He stands, stumbling slightly on his feet, then wraps you in a warm, tight hug, grumbling, "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond with a chuckle, full of warmth. "You'll hear from me as soon as we wake up."

The next week breezes by in a flurry of trips to the local Korean market without Hoseok catching wise or tagging along. Christmas is on Sunday, and you want to surprise him with a homemade pot of kimchi jjigae. 

Luckily, Hoseok claims he has to make something special for the holiday, doing a very bad job of hiding the fact that he is planning a gift for you, as well. 

Several mornings are spent with one of you showing up at the other's front door with coffee in hand, or an invitation to trudge out to some cafe nearby. Most evenings are spent curled on one of your couches watching movies, either after breaking apart in the afternoon for a few hours or seeing each other for the first time, that day. 

The closer it gets to the holiday, the more Hoseok seems intent on sitting in front of the television, not voicing many thoughts or emotions, and you wonder if the weight of being away from home is starting to overwhelm him. 

You give Hoseok as much space and pampering as he needs, doing your best to pick up on cues for when he seems to need attention versus alone time. Hoseok is usually pretty forthcoming with his emotions, but some things are harder to voice than others, and you understand that better than anyone. 

The night before Christmas, Hoseok is particularly quiet, hinging on difficult to read. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close before leaving for the night, drowsy after having woken up on his couch, curled against his side. 

"Are you alright?" you ask, brushing the tip of your nose against his. 

Hoseok nods, but his eyes stay trained on the floor, and you pull him in for another embrace, muttering, "I miss my family too."

At this, Hoseok squeezes you tight and sighs. Then, he releases the hug and takes a step back, offering a soft smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect this week to take so much out of me. It feels like everything has passed by in a blur."

You nod and rub your palms up his long yellow sleeves. "I agree. But tomorrow should be nice. And if you need to talk about anything, you know I am here to listen, okay?"

"Okay," Hoseok responds. "Talking would be nice. I do have some things I need to tell you, and I have been trying to wait for tomorrow."

"Grand romantic gesture?" you tease. "I'm so shocked."

And with that, Hoseok pulls you into a hug, kisses your forehead, and wishes you good night. You feel a mix of sadness and happiness settle over you as you pad your way to your apartment. But also, hopefulness. Tonight, you have a gift to wrap before you can go to bed, and you really hope Hoseok will like it.

On Christmas morning, you wake up with a smile on your face and begin to prepare, marinating the pork belly in rice wine and black pepper, and putting two servings of rice into the rice maker. Then, you shoot off a text to Hoseok—

You Ho, Ho, Hoseok, good morning, and merry Christmas!

—smiling like an idiot at your phone as you type.

Everything has to be perfect, and you have each ingredient needed for two servings of stew already separated and kept neatly in the refrigerator. While on your various outings over the past week, you found a very adorably ugly hand-embroidered red sweater with a giant Christmas tree and gifts on the front, complete with ribbons hanging from the various ornaments and boxes to give it a nice 3-dimensional feel. 

You add a little glitter above the eyes, apply some mascara, and really take in your reflection as you stand before the mirror in all your glory. If Hoseok isn't instantly charmed by this nonsense, you truly do not know what will work. A ding from your phone pulls your attention, and you nibble on your lip as you read it.

Hoseok I guess the hot cocoas that I am cradling as I type this are not the only sweet treat I have to look forward to, today. Marshmallow, you made me laugh so hard, I embarrassed myself in public. 

You Cute.

Hoseok Be there in 10? Or do you need more time? I was hoping to surprise you, but I also don't want to rush you.

You Be here now, for all I care. I'm ready for you.

Hoseok See you soon. ;)

You walk to the living room to plug in the Christmas tree, stopping in your tracks at the sight of two gift boxes sitting below it. Earlier yesterday, Hoseok had come by to drop off your gift, sternly insisting that you not shake it. The recipe for kimchi jjigae was up on your laptop, and you rushed to the dining room table to close the screen, nearly letting Hoseok in on your surprise prematurely. 

And today, in mere moments from now, the two of you are going to exchange gifts. Yours wrapped in gold with pastel pink dots—a paper Hoseok helped you pick out back when you were buying ornaments and still not certain you would have any gifts to actually wrap this year—and his in shimmering green paper with little red bows. You plug in the tree and stand, marveling at the pastel colors and big, bright star. 

Everything feels surreal. The past several weeks have felt like a hurricane swept in and completely washed away traces of your former self, leaving you in ruins. But in a good way. You still have a huge mess to clean, and you are still not sure what the aftermath of the storm will entail, but as the sunshine breaks through the clouds, offering warmth and light, you can sit in the wreckage and smile. You can be ready to rebuild. 

Four rhythmic knocks on the door jolt you from your thoughts, and you gasp as you stand up straight. It has definitely not been ten minutes. 

As you prance over to the front door, giddy to finally get to see Hoseok, worry begins to stir in your guts. Worry that you are moving too fast, that your gesture is too big and too romantic, that you are not cut out for this at all—especially not so soon after a breakup. 

But you grin and swing the door open wide, ready to accept Hoseok into your heart and into your life as more than just a friend. And judging by the endeared smile Hoseok gives you as he eyes up your sweater and glances at the lit-up tree behind you, you think that perhaps, he is just as ready as you are. 

Hoseok is dressed in a green sweater that has poorly puff-painted ornaments covering it, and you huff out a laugh at how precious and ridiculous it looks. He wears khakis and slip-on shoes, and his hair is tousled somewhat messily. 

"You are full of surprises," Hoseok muses as you take a step back and allow him to enter the small space. 

"I am," you respond, biting back a grin. 

Hoseok toes out of his shoes, handing you a nice, large paper cup of hot chocolate, and you turn to make your way through the apartment, to the couch. You are eager to open the gifts, especially when you turn to find Hoseok sniffing the air with a squint in his eyes, already on the path to discovering what his will be. 

"I smell rice."

You hum, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks. "I read that Koreans eat rice for breakfast."

Hoseok's eyebrows lift, and he smiles playfully. "Just rice? How thoughtful."

"Not just rice," you tease in return, rounding the sofa and kneeling on the cushion to face Hoseok. "Come, open your gift."

Hoseok, nosy as ever, takes a step into your kitchen and leans over the counter to observe the plastic wrap-covered bowl, holding the marinating meat. Then, he lifts his head, cocking it to the side as he peers over the small island. "What's in here?"

With a huff, you stand and stomp over to Hoseok, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him toward the couch. He only puts up an ounce or two of resistance, giggling as you drag him along. With him settling down, you grab his gift—which is a bit heavy—and place it on the table in front of him. 

"Open at the same time?" Hoseok asks, and you smile and return to the tree, grabbing your featherlight shoebox-sized present and bringing it back.

Once you sit, you make a show of shaking your box while grinning at Hoseok, who gives you a wide, surprised gasp. There is some movement inside, but it is simultaneously too heavy and too light to give itself away. 

"Awe, you bought me socks," you chide, "how charming."

Blush creeps up Hoseok's neck, and he leans to pick up your gift, attempting to shake it before realizing how heavy it is and muttering something in Korean under his breath. 

"What is in this?"

You arch a brow and say, "Open it and find out," then take the edges of the shimmering green paper under your nails and begin to dig your fingers in. 

"Wait," Hoseok says, reaching a hand out, and you stop, looking up to find a worried expression. "I just—I don't want you to—" he takes a breath, "I made this for you. So...just don't expect something extravagant and expensive, okay? It's—it's not a big deal."

Your heart soars at the thought of Hoseok making you a gift, and you rip the paper open, clawing at it like a wild beast. Hoseok clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head as if ashamed, but a shy smile creeps across his face as he watches you.

"Open yours too!" you insist as you pull a plain brown box from the shredded paper, curling your fingers under the lid but waiting to lift. 

Hoseok tears at the taped paper flaps, opening his gift much more carefully and calmly, setting every nerve of yours alight with anticipation. Once enough paper is torn away, you begin to lift the lid from the box much more slowly than you ripped into the wrapping. 

"Oh!" Hoseok exclaims, examining the photo of the ceramic hot pot on the box. "This is great, but...I feel so bad telling you this...but I have one of these."

"Of course you do," you respond with a cheeky smile. "But I didn't have one, and that's...technically not your actual gift."

Hoseok cocks his head, and you watch the wheels turn. Then, he bursts out laughing. "You made me unwrap something that you're keeping?" 

With a cheeky grin and squint you lean in and say, "Your gift is what I am going to make in that pot once I open this box."

Hoseok's mouth drops, though he still hasn't seemed to figure it out, and you smile as you return to your task. As you lift the lid, you find a neatly folded pile of black knitted fabric with dots and lines of various yellows and golds—like shooting stars against a pitch-black sky. You lift it, and it unravels into a thick, beautiful infinity scarf, knit in a chevron pattern of deep v's. 

Tears well in your eyes, and you hug the scarf close, rubbing the soft fabric against your cheek. It smells like Hoseok, and you bury your face against it, taking a sniff as a sob chokes from your chest. 

"You made this for me," you whimper, overwhelmed by affection.

When you open your eyes and glance up, Hoseok is smiling soft and sweet. You can tell he is nervous about the gift, but that he no longer feels the need to apologize. You wrap the scarf over your head twice and bury your nose once more, shamelessly filling your senses with your favorite musk.

"Hoseok, this is—I love this. Thank you."

Hoseok sets the hot pot on the table and opens his arms, and you accept the invitation and throw yourself against his chest. Nobody has ever handmade something like this before, and you cannot fathom how long it must have taken him. 

Suddenly, your gift feels silly. A meal is hardly a tangible thing, not compared to a scarf. Fresh tears threaten your eyes, and you sit up, rubbing them away before they can form streaks on your face. 

"Now I have to finish making your gift," you say shyly, taking Hoseok's hands in yours. "And while I do that, you should put on The Battle of the Dads. This time I won't fall asleep."

Hoseok laughs and nods his head, and you let go of his hands and sit back, reaching for your hot chocolate to savor a nice, warm sip. Then, you take the hot pot and make your way to the kitchen, setting it on the counter and opening it up. You give it a quick wash and dry, then place it on the stove.

First, you take the prepped container of kimchi and tofu from the fridge and set it close to the stove, then you light a burner beneath a small skillet and take out the kimchi to warm and soften over the heat. After a few moments, movement comes from the living room, and you shut off the burner and turn in time to find Hoseok sliding into the entry on socked feet. 

"I smell Kimchi," Hoseok announces with wide eyes. Then, he glances again at the bowl of marinating pork, this time moving the plastic wrap from the edge, and back at you. 

"I know it won't taste like the soup your mother makes," you say shyly. Tears form in Hoseok's eyes, and he brings his hands to his mouth. "But I wanted to try. I know your heart has been sick for home lately."

Hoseok strides through the kitchen, wraps one arm around your back while the other comes up to gently take your chin. "I'm going to kiss you," he mutters softly, so close you can smell the cocoa on his breath. 

You nod and smile, tilting your chin in an invitation, and Hoseok closes the space between you, brushing his lips gently against yours. A light exhale leaves your lungs—a sigh of relief and joy and so many things left unsaid—and you wrap your arms around Hoseok's neck and pull him ever so slightly closer, slotting your lips between his and smiling as he lets out a sweet, contented groan. You kiss Hoseok slowly and steadily, movements languid and soft as if you have all the time in the world.

Hoseok turns you, maneuvering you away from the stove to press you against the countertop as he rests his forehead against yours. You open your eyes to find him looking down at you while tears streak his pretty face. 

"Be mine," Hoseok mutters an inch from your lips. "Please."

"Are you sure it's not too soon?" you ask, and Hoseok chuckles, shaking his head. 

"I should be asking you that."

Fondness and desire fill you with warmth, and you pull Hoseok closer, kissing his lips fully and eagerly. "I'm ready if you are," you mutter against him. 

Both of Hoseok's hands take you gently by the head, cradling you as he licks over your lips—as he grins against your mouth at the sound of your soft whimper. You push your fingers into his hair and part your lips, inviting Hoseok to have more, but he sucks your bottom lip gently between his teeth then releases, sliding his hands to your shoulders and pulling you into a firm embrace. 

"I want to kiss you until we're both dizzy and out of breath, but I am also very hungry," Hoseok mutters softly against your temple.

You laugh, overcome once more with emotion as hot tears fall down your cheeks, and you sniffle as Hoseok steps back to give you space to turn on the burners and resume preparing his gift. You expect him to return to the movie—which he has left playing in the living room—but he sits on your counter and watches as you work, asking about where you picked up this and that ingredient, impressed that you memorized the recipe—which you have stored on your phone, just in case.

"It's an easy recipe," you tease as you pack the tofu and kimchi on top of the pork and scoop in the rest of the ingredients. 

"It is, but everyone comes up with their own spin. My mom always adds a dash of sesame oil, something not everyone does."

With a frown, you chew on your bottom lip. The recipe you memorized didn't call for sesame oil, and it is not something you have cooked with before. Hoseok hops down from the counter and approaches, giving your forehead a kiss as he mutters, "Be right back," then slips on his shoes and runs out the door. 

As the pork cooks, you bring the scarf back to your face and smell, closing your eyes and smiling. Hoseok kissed you. Here, in your kitchen, on Christmas morning, Hoseok kissed you, and it made you feel more precious than any single kiss has made you feel in a good long time. Hoseok kissed you and the clouds parted and the birds began to sing and the sun warmed your cheeks.

Several minutes pass and Hoseok returns with sesame oil. He helps with the rest of the ingredients, measuring the water and scooping bowls of rice. Once the soup is ready, Hoseok uses oven mitts to carry it to the living room, where he has set out a pot holder, bowls, and utensils. 

"I was supposed to do all this," you complain with a smile as you walk to the living room empty-handed, "this was supposed to be my gift to you."

Hoseok sets down the soup, slides off the oven mitts, and places them on the table. Then he approaches you and gently places his hands on your cheeks. 

"You've already been my gift," Hoseok says softly, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. "Bringing me along for your errands, welcoming me into your home...I haven't felt this happy during the holidays since I left Korea. For weeks, you've been light," Hoseok kisses the tip of your nose, "warmth," he kisses your cheek, "home."

Tears spill as you wrap your arms around Hoseok and kiss his lips, chin, and cheeks in quick, wet smacks, one after another after another until he is quaking from laughter and pulling away.

"Soup first, then more kisses later," Hoseok proposes, holding his hand out toward the table. The Battle of the Dads plays on the television, and you smile widely, feeling truly at home in this apartment once again. Finally.

"Deal. Soup first, then kisses later."

“To return to love, to get the love we always wanted but never had, to have the love we want but are not prepared to give, we seek romantic relationships. We believe these relationships, more than any other, will rescue and redeem us. True love does have the power to redeem but only if we are ready for redemption. Love saves us only if we want to be saved.” ― bell hooks, All About Love: New Visions

writing this fic was incredibly cathartic, and even made me cry at times! thank you so much for reading. i love you and i hope you have a safe and happy new year!

please don't be a silent reader! comments and kudos go a long way and likes are always appreciated.

tags: @1dsn @btsiguess-kpop @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13  @giriiboyy  @moonleeai  @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki

Hope for the Holidays  is copyright 2022 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

[sailoryooons]

F*ck Christmas | Teaser | myg

❆ Paring: Yoongi x f. reader

❆ Summary: Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

❆ Genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

❆ A part of A Hyung Holiday Collaboration

❆ Warnings: Light depiction of inner turmoil, not liking Christmas in this teaser

❆ Collab Masterlist

❆ faq | my masterlist

❆ Authors Note: I cannot wait to share the holdiays with my favorite hyung line @nabiolive @here2bbtstrash and @gimmethatagustd! Keep your eyes out for our absolutely ridiculous holiday madness hehe

COMING EARLY DECEMBER

Yoongi’s breath turns to fog as he laughs. You watch the way his eyes crinkle, shining with mirth under the gray light of the moon. He glows under the night sky – cheeks frozen-blush, lips chapped a little from the winter wind, nose cherry read. Droplets of dew cling to his long hair, a crown of diamonds on a prince spun from moonbeams.

At least, that’s what it feels like as you watch his laughter settle. Yoongi smiles up at the sky and that tight feeling constricts in your chest again. This version of him is so much softer than the teenager you remember. Warm at the edges, melted with a lifetime of experiences that have thawed that hard exterior.

Something like envy slithers through you. Envy that Yoongi has long healed from his hurts. That he seems to have settled in who he is now, in happiness and knowing his path. He doesn’t have everything but he has enough, and as he turns to look at you, dark eyes sparkling, you can’t help but avert your gaze.

You don’t want him to see the inside of you. You don’t want him to see that you aren’t there - that you’re not healed and the thing inside you is ugly.

“It’s more about Christmas as a concept,” Yoongi sighs, looking back up at the sky. Marshmallow clouds drift across a midnight canvas. You can only make out the brightest of stars here, the light pollution dimming the effect. “I’m not religious either, but the effect that the holidays can have on people is touching. Heartwarming. People love others a little extra.”

“Yeah, well they should do that year-round.”

“Small steps, small steps. Maybe it’s an open conversation at a dinner, or maybe it’s someone seeing family they haven't seen in a while. There are so many opportunities for love and warmth and chances to open your heart.”

“You sound like a Hallmark commercial.”

“Make fun of me all you want,” he chuckles. “I know it sounds idealistic and a little bit naïve. But I’ve experienced too much sadness to keep thinking that’s all there is, and I’ve seen people’s lives change around the holidays. It’s special.”

You hum. “Why wait until the end of the year for all of that so-called happiness, then?”

“Life is hard - like really fucking hard. Sometimes when the end of the year is staring you right in the face, or when you're realizing it may be your last Christmas with an aging loved one is the push people need to take that first step to being happy.”

“You’re celebrating procrastination.”

Yoongi sighs. He rolls over on his side and props his head up with his hand. You feel a flush of warmth curl through you under the weight of his full attention. Suddenly the cold hard ground you’ve opted to lay on doesn’t feel so bad.

“I’m celebrating people being moved to do something.” His tone is gentle. You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He seems thoughtful, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “I’m celebrating that sometimes the holidays are the worst time for people. But maybe something small will happen to make them feel even a moment of happiness. Just one small second of relief from the fucking madness.”

You think about everything that’s happened in the last few weeks. A tightness constricts your throat and you try to swallow past it. It takes you a few moments, but you imagine what it would be like to have just a fucking second to catch your breath. To have a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness.

“I just…” Yoongi’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I want people to be happy. And it feels like maybe this time of year has more potential than most. So that’s what I celebrate. Not the gift and the capitalism and the hypocrisy of it all. But the little seconds in between.”

A long, slow breath of air leaves you. You watch it steam and curl toward the sky before fading. “Well, Yoongi. I wish I was nearly as optimistic.”

“Maybe you can be.” You glance at him and see him smiling. “Just give me a chance to persuade you, yeah?”

[moonchild-in-blue]

Sometimes all you need is a good ol' coffee shop au tbh.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Taehyung + winter ?

"It's never going to stop snowing, is it?"

Taehyung stands beside you in the bay window, a grin on his face. "Never."

You groan, glancing at the clock on the wall. "How am I supposed to fly out like this? I was supposed to leave for the airport two hours ago!"

Rocking back on his heels, Taehyung watches you stalk back to the kitchen. Rifling through the cupboard until you find a familiar container of hot chocolate. Opening it, you can't help but grin at the half-gone contents.

"We've drunk our weight in hot cocoa," Taehyung teases. "Marshmallows?"

"Please."

Pouring milk into the pan, you set the burner to low and set to stirring it. "I'm sorry about being so lame today...I'm just feeling a little helpless. If we hadn't stayed another night, I would've made my flight."

The decision had been last minute. The rest of your friends left yesterday, but something about the holiday season always made you cling to it as it slipped away. Going home would mean giving in to the fact that you wouldn't see Taehyung for another year.

Between jobs and family and other responsibilities, you hardly ever saw your old roommate anymore. A part of you longed to go back to those college days, when you realized that your roommate Tae wasn't a girl, but a boy. A freakishly attractive, lovable boy, that later became your best friend.

Taehyung nods, grabbing the marshmallows. "Understandable. Although...I can't help but feel a little lucky."

"Yeah?" You bump his hip with yours, passing the spatula. He immediately began stirring in your place.

"Yeah."

"Why's that?" Measuring out the cocoa, you drop it into the milk.

Taehyung continues stirring, chewing on his lip. "I just...miss you, when you're gone. And I always wish we stayed together longer for the holidays."

"Right, let's pretend like you're not at your wit's end after two weeks together for the holidays," you tease. "Do we have whipped cream?"

"In the fridge. And -" Taehyung pauses, turning to look at you. "I mean it. Really."

Fridge wide open, you freeze. Staring back at him, you're reminded of a similar scenario five years ago. Back in your teeny tiny apartment, staying for the holidays when your parents got divorced. Your mom went south to Cancun with her girlfriends and your dad went east, to London. Both had tried to convince you to accompany them, but in the end you decided to stay on Campus.

Taehyung stayed as well. And you made cocoa and watched Hallmark movies and gave each other stocking filled with candy and cheap presents. Thus began the tradition - Christmas together. Whether it was over Christmas day or in the weeks that followed, you always found your way back to each other over the holidays.

"You alright?"

You blink, careening back to the present at breakneck speed. Shutting the fridge, you cross your arms. "Why'd you stay back, that first Christmas together?"

Taehyung turns back to the stove. "What do you mean?"

"You stayed. We both know your family had plans, you could've flown home to spend it with them-"

Turning off the burner, Taehyung spins around. He looks a sight in his bright red sweater and gray sweats.

“No. My flight got cancelled. I had no choice but to stay.”

You take a step back. He’s told you a similar story before, but for some reason you never believed it. That first Christmas spent together was the most mild weather that you can remember in December.

Yet still, he’s lying. You tilt your head to the side. “Really?”

Taehyung’s jaw drops. “Re- yes. Really.”

“Ok. I believe you.” He watches you as you reopen the fridge for the whipped cream. “All finished?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Finished.”

“Great. Pour it up!” Cheering and clapping, you watch as he pours two mugs full. You do the honors of sprinkling in some marshmallows before topping it all off with hot chocolate.

“A toast,” Taehyung drawls. “To you.” He’s staring into your soul. “And our many years of friendship.”

Friendship. “Right back at ya.”

Together, you drink. When you glance back up at him, Taehyung is watching you with hawk-like focus.

“What?” You ask, defensive.

He shrugs. “It’s just…I haven’t been totally honest with you.”

Your heart drops. “…ok.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Taehyung blows out a breath. “My flight was canceled that first year because - because I canceled it. Personally.”

You freeze, hot chocolate nearly falling from your hands. Slowly, you set it down on the counter. Taehyung follows suit. You turn to face him only to find him already there, mere inches away. He reaches around you to set his drink down beside yours, but doesn't move away.

“You what?” It's hardly above a whisper.

“Canceled my flight so I could be with you. I knew - I knew that you wouldn’t take me up on the offer to return home with me, so I came up with an alternative solution.”

"By...missing Christmas with your family. On purpose."

He shrugs once more. "Yeah. I mean, why not?"

"Why not? Why - I feel like an idiot. I made you feel bad, didn't I? Is that why we still do this every year? Because you...pity me?"

"Wha - no! No, of course not. I don't pity you."

You raise your chin, watching the way Taehyung's eyes dip down to your lips with the action. "Then what? Why?"

He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. "Uh..."

"Spit it out, Taehyung."

Eyes meeting yours with a flash of something sharp, Taehyung shakes his head. You go to challenge him once more but stop as you feel his hands on you. One hand tracing a line up your arm, the other pushing your hair back.

"Because, I..."

Words fail and he thinks better of it. Instead, he kisses you. Slowly at first, almost hesitant. You melt into him, arms snaking around his neck as he sighs into the kiss. He pulls you closer, smiling against your lips.

Taehyung pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. "Because I wanted to."

Wanted you, are the words he doesn't say. You grin up at him. He smiles back, planting a peck on the tip of your nose.

"What are you thinking?" He whispers. You close your eyes, feeling what its like to be in his arms at last.

"I love winter."

[persphonesorchid]

Cupid’s On Holiday - KSJ

Summary: You don't get it, you're a damn catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You're smart, you're tidy, hell you'd give up your own kidney to a homeless guy if he needed it that bad. So what the issue? Failed relationships, blind date after blind date, and now your friend's competitive archery teammate is telling you he's Cupid here to help you find your one true love. You're not that desperate. He could take those golden arrows and shove 'em.

Genres: Angel!Au | Fluff, angst, smut, slight enemies to lovers, humor.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, smut (fingering, protected sex), Oc's a bit of a downer but hey! Aren't we all sometimes! If I missed anything, let me know!

Rating: Mature (Minors, please, go away.)

Word count: 17k

Masterlist

Notes: A little late, but I made it before Saturday! I really really hope you guys enjoy this!! My contribution to @raplinesmoon , @kithtaehyung and @joheunsaram 's Catch Of The Century Collab! It's been a bit of a struggle to write, so show it some love! Also, you won't understand what I mean yet, but emotions are valid and you should feel them. Thank you to THE LOMFL @xpeachesncream for beta'ing for me, Nikki I love you so so much! Thank you for being there when I screamed about this fic when lightening struck and hyping me up always. Ly babie ❤️❤️❤️

Don't forget to leave feedback guys!! I'll love to hear your thoughts ( or crazy emotional rambles) Enjoy!!

Serendipity was in full swing; music blasting so loud you can feel it in your chest. Fellow club goers crowding the dance floor in a wild flurry of limbs and ill-timed dancing. You can barely keep up with the conversation Yoongi and Jungkook are having, you’re not even sure how they’re hearing each other over the music.

Clubs typically aren’t your thing, not one for the deafening music or the people who never knew when they had too much to drink. Tonight, though, you made an exception, meeting a friend of a friend for a date you were excited to be on. You thank your lucky stars you had the foresight to grovel at Yoongi’s feet to come with you, lord knows you’d be making your grand escape through the club’s back door by now.

“I mean, it’s not that hard, right?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Dude. Grow up.”

You chuckle into your whiskey as Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving his hand to direct your attention back to him and not on the way Jungkook was snickering. The flashy strobe lights waving mindlessly in the club catch on the silver of Yoongi’s bracelet and he rights his leaning frame, propping an arm on the table between you both.

“All I’m saying is...” He thinks hard for a moment, tilting his head to squint at the ceiling. You could tell he’s gone above his limit tonight; the rosiness of his cheeks visible in the odd flashes of light. “Man up. When he gets back, tell him he’s an ass and we can go home.”

“You know she’d rather die.” Jungkook mutters, draining the end of his beer, adding the empty bottle to the rest that was steadily growing the longer you all sat there. “Too nice.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Yoongi says, brows furrowed as though he’s just heard the most distressing news in his life, “I’ll do it for you. I swear if I have to sit here and listen to that guy ramble on about himself any more I’ll actually walk out into the street and stand there.”

“I don’t find you funny.” You deadpan, kicking your foot against his shin. He only whines, reaching for your bottle of water instead of brandishing his silver tongue at you.

Yoongi takes a long drink, eyes scanning the crowd, “He’s taking a long time to get back from the bathroom.”

Jungkook lifts himself partly out of his seat – having more vantage with his height – and looks around too. “Fou-oh...”

“What?” You perk up, following Jungkook’s gaze, but you’re suddenly blocked by Yoongi, who you didn’t even see get up. He shifts every time you’d move to look around him. You open your mouth to protest, but Yoongi’s hands land firmly on your shoulders.

“How about we just go? It’s late.” The furrow of his brow and the clench of his jaw tells a lot; he’s seen something you’d be better off not seeing at all and you simply agree. You take the hand that he offers, sliding out of the booth and Jungkook follows with a frown.

When you all get outside, Yoongi throws an arm over your shoulder, and you’re grateful for his warmth as the late night air nipped at your skin. You sigh, watching mist dance on your exhale, ducking your head a little to look at your feet. It’s quiet between you three, and you realize belatedly that you should’ve asked Hoseok to come too. He’s always good at distracting you.

Of course, you should have expected it to go this way. Another failed date that’s left you feeling worse than before, you think you’d might as well give up now, resign yourself to growing old and having fifty cats to keep you company. It’s been this way for a while, your last actual relationship being exactly three years and six months ago -- not that you’re counting or anything.

You stayed out of the dating scene for a while, focusing on yourself and being happy and content with who you are first before anything. Because that’s important, you can’t love someone else without loving yourself first. It was a good run anyway, until you became lonely and Yoongi’s dry humor and good cooking no longer sustained you.

You loved him, truly, but you missed the level of intimacy he couldn’t provide you with. Even though you loved when he made a big deal about cuddling and holding your hand – and frankly would rather shoot himself in the foot than say he liked that shit. You’re honestly considering making a pact with him to get married in the next ten years or something. You feel like that’s the only way to get out of whatever curse you’re under.

You don’t know if it’s you, or what. You’ve tried meeting new people, friends of friend’s, strangers from dating apps. Your dating life is quickly going down the drain.

“Hey, get out of there.” Yoongi taps his fingers against your temple, looking a little more sober now, even though his cheeks remain pink from the cold. He frowns at you, pulling you a little bit closer to his side, “Don’t think about it, okay?”

You can’t help it though, it’ll do no good in the long run, you know that. You’ve been feeling all sorts of low, and really you shouldn’t. You don’t need someone next to you to feel complete, to make you feel like the world’s finally spinning on the right axis. You just hate that you feel like you do; everyone around you seems to be happy and with someone and you’re here feeling like the hottest dumpster fire. You want to have rose tinted glasses to wear, too.

You wanted someone to hold hands with that wasn’t Yoongi or Jungkook...or Hoseok whenever he wasn’t working at the bar and using you as his wing-woman. You wanted someone to tell you you’re pretty and not mean it in a totally-best-friend way.

You sigh, long and drawn out, shoulders sagging as you watch the pavement pass by under your feet. The cracks in the gray stone representing the cracks in your love life that’s slowly drifting away like the ashes of the universe post Infinity Snap. Oh, you wished Thanos was actually here to snap you out of existence. You can deal with floating away into nothingness than dealing with the loneliness that’s beginning to cling to the edges of your form.

“How about we stop at the convenience store?” Jungkook suggests, linking his arm with yours, he looks down at you with a soft smile you couldn’t see. “Ramen on me?”

You can’t say no when you look up and catch his smile, dimples and all, and the three of you walk a little faster.

“Damn, everything’s just going up these days.” Yoongi grumbles, reading the label of a vitamin gummy bottle with a frown. You hum, reading your own set of labels listlessly a few feet away.

You’d long lost Jungkook somewhere in the depths of the large convenience store. He’d run off to find something and it’s been five minutes of you and Yoongi walking around and complaining about prices.

Yoongi puts the vitamins back on the shelf, twisting the container until the brand label faces him. You see him glance at you in your peripheral, see him walk a little closer until he stops at your side, “Doing okay?”

You think about it for a fraction of a second and shrug, throwing Yoongi a careless ‘Ok' sign, “Yeah, A-OK.”

You really just want to go home, watch a movie and forget tonight. Maybe you can convince Yoongi to watch that movie with you, and you both can share laughs over more beers and the pistachio flavored ice-cream that Yoongi hates.

The man himself doesn’t look convinced, and it shows in the raise of his eyebrow and the way he studies you. He’s always said you’re like an open book to him and he knows how to read the lines well – as much as you hate that – you appreciate that he says nothing of it.

You know it will come up later, not now while it’s still fresh, but when you least expect it. Yoongi purses his lips at you, shaking his head before tugging you along behind him as he walks on.

“Guys!” Jungkook's call comes from behind you both, and you and Yoongi turn to his approach, and the company he had with him.

The guy trailing behind Jungkook, for the sake of your mind that grinded to a halt at the sight of him, is beautiful. You don’t think you’ve called a man beautiful before, but there’s no other word that you can use. This man with his dark hair, eyes of the deepest brown, perfect plush pink lips and the widest set of shoulders you’ve ever seen.

You stand a little stunned, just staring at him until Yoongi nudges your arm and you realize that Jungkook is speaking. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you, briefly, but you know he’s itching to grill you and you’ll never live it down.

“Guys, this is Seokjin.” Jungkook smiles, waving a hand at his friend, “He’s on the archery team.”

Seokjin bows his head in greeting, “Hello.”

“Jungkook talks about you a lot. It’s nice to put a face to the name.” Yoongi says as you struggle to come up with anything that won’t give away how nervous you suddenly felt.

“This is Yoongi, and Y/n.”

Yoongi nudges your side again and you smile, “Nice to meet you.”

There’s a twitch in his eyebrow as his eyes focus on yours, and for a moment it feels as though he’s looking right through you. He’s looking at you, but his eyes are so intense you feel like you’re under a microscope, or having one of those weird naked dreams and nothing to cover your shame.

It seemed like the moment stretched on for ages, and you’re stuck in a void being watched by someone you can’t see.

Seokjin's lips pull into a smile and when he blinks, you do too. There’s something strange about the air in between the space you occupied, something unfamiliar but at the same time not completely unknown. You’re not quite sure how to feel about it and you’re not sure if the shiver going down your spine was from the AC.

When he looks away from you to look at Jungkook, you lean over to take the basket from Jungkook’s lax fingers – it was filled with way more things than you’d all come in for - announcing that you’re going to check out.

You and Yoongi leave them both talking, walking back to the front of the convenience store where the cashiers were. You’re wondering about what that could’ve been, teeth picking at the skin of your bottom lip, brows furrowed in thought.

“You sure you’re good, right? You seemed a bit gone back there.” Yoongi asks, unloading the contents of Jungkook’s basket onto the counter, shaking his head as he picks up a packet of mint gum and places it with the things.. “Well, actually, you looked stupid – and I don’t mean that in the way it sounds. You just kinda...blanked. Like the second you saw him you went outta your head.”

“Huh...” You look back to where Jungkook and Seokjin are still talking, still feeling watched even though he wasn’t looking. “Kinda felt like it.”

When you finally left the convenience store, a light drizzle had started. Your apartment complex isn’t far, less than five minutes from where you are.

Seokjin had parted from your small group, getting into a fancy black car parked at the curb after bidding you all goodnight.

The walk was quiet until you’d all gotten home, with Jungkook waving a little frantically at his door a good way down the hall. Yoongi made no move to get into his apartment next to yours, watching you fumble with your keys.

“Not going in?” you mumble, looking over your shoulder to catch him waving his phone at you.

“Nah, I’m gonna meet Hobi.” He says, “Need me to stay with you?”

You shake your head. Sometimes you felt as though you treated Yoongi like your therapist, he’s always there to listen when you need to vent, always being the shoulder to cry on. Always a listening ear without complaint.

“I’m okay Yoongi. Promise.” You smile, lifting the plastic bag that Jungkook had so graciously provided you with. “I’m gonna eat my woes away.”

Yoongi sighs, “You know you can’t say you’re okay and then follow with that.”

He steps over to you and hugs you a little awkwardly, patting your back. You appreciate his effort to sacrifice his comfort, even as you laugh a bit. “Text me if you need anything and I’ll come back.”

Relaxing in his hold, you sigh, “D’You think it’s just me? I mea-”

“-No.” Yoongi cuts in, rubbing small, comforting circles against your back, “Men are dicks. It ain’t you, trust me.”

He leans away, hooking his pinkie into the handle of the bag and shakes it a bit, “Eat and get some sleep, okay? Don’t go thinking too much.”

You wait until he’s down the hall and out of your sight to head inside. Kicking your shoes off, you flick on the lights and drag your feet to your small kitchen. You dig through the bag in search of your ramen, finding the chocolate popsicles Jungkook bought you.

Maybe you should talk to Yoongi about that marriage plan of yours. Just so that you’d have something to fall back on, so that later down the road when you’re sixty you’d have grandkids running around and not a few cats instead.

There’s a loud banging on your door that jolts you out of your sleep the next morning. The blackout curtains you’d bought a couple weeks ago were working, you have no idea what time it is. You also have no idea when you’d gotten to bed either, you remember eating the ramen and one of the popsicles.

You remember hearing Yoongi come home, the opening and closing of his door and the clink of his keys against the little bowl with the cat on it that you gave him.

You don’t remember much else, you certainly don’t remember crawling into bed or changing your clothes for that matter.

You groan as the pounding continues, rattling into the empty hallways of your sleepy mind and knocking on every door. Rolling over you pull your pillow with you, covering your head and willing the noise to end. Squinting at the little blue clock on your nightstand and the numbers that squint back, you lay there wondering who’d be knocking on your door this early on a Saturday.

“Police! Open up! I’ve got a warrant.” Jungkook’s muffled, disembodied voice filters through your apartment and you sigh, kicking at your covers because you know if you don’t get up he’ll stand there and ring your phone until you pick up.

Grumbling to yourself, you drag your feet to your front door and open it. Jungkook’s standing there with one hand raised, looking ready to knock again and too bright eyed for the hour. His other hand balances a coffee holder with four cups and a large brown bag.

“Don’t you have practice to get to? It’s seven am.” you step aside to let him in, covering your yawn with a hand.

“Good morning to you, too.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, wiggling the brown bag at you – the brown bag that’s doing a great job of concealing its contents. “I brought breakfast.”

You’re moving to close the door when a hand stops the motion and Hoseok’s poking his head into your entrance hallway.

His eyes are bright, even though he’s not a morning person, and his smile is brighter when he sees you, as it always is. He pushes the door open as you step back to allow it, coming in to wrap his lanky arms around you. “Heard your night sucked ass.”

His fingers tangle in the mess that is your bed head, but he doesn’t let go of you even as he tries to free them. He rubs circles into your back, and sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” You laugh into his sweatshirt, the old one he kept from college even though it’s fraying at the edges and the blue isn’t as blue anymore. The one you threw up on the night Yoongi lost you in a crowd of college freshmen and you didn’t know your ass from your elbow.

“Someone has to, you know?”

Yoongi’s the last to come through your open doorway, shutting the door behind him, looking like he’d barely slept, dark hair sticking up at odd angles.

He frowns at you both, “Guys, c’mon. You’re blocking the way.” He pushes lightly at Hoseok’s back, making him walk forward still clinging to you.

“You’re gonna make me trip!” You laugh, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold. When you’re free of Hoseok’s cuddling, you trail after Yoongi and into the kitchen where Jungkook’s pulling carefully wrapped bagels out of the bag.

“What’s the catch, Jeon?” You ask, knowing that he should be on his way to practice right now. Not that you don’t trust the guy, it’s just that normally if Jungkook has practice, you won’t see him until it’s over and he’s back in the building.

“Can’t I just be nice and bring my best friend breakfast from her favorite cafe?”

“There’s always a catch.” Yoongi says as he plops down into a chair at your small kitchen table and Jungkook makes an offended sound at the back of his throat. Yoongi shrugs, pulling a coffee free from the holder and passes it to you.

“What do you need this time?” Taking the coffee from Yoongi, you take the seat next to him and Jungkook gives you one of the bagels.

“Can you drive me to practice today?”

Hoseok ruffles your hair as he passes, leaning around Jungkook to grab a coffee and a bagel for himself while Jungkook neatly folds the brown bag. “I’d take him but I gotta be at the studio in an hour...”

You hum waving a hand, “No worries.”

It’s ten am by the time you return back to your apartment. You’d stopped at the grocery store to pick up things you needed and had no choice but to lug all the bags up at once.

You would’ve liked to make trips, which you would usually do going up and down the elevator and getting weird looks from old Mrs Bailey two floors down. The elevator was once again getting serviced and you curse the stupid machine to the high heavens.

You take one step at a time, the weight of the bags digging uncomfortably into your fingers. You’re sure they’re red by now and you groan thinking about the way they’ll cramp up when you put the bags down.

“Need help?”

You almost drop your bags, body jerking in place as you stop to look behind you.

Seokjin is standing a few steps down on the platform between the flights, and you find it just a bit strange that you hadn’t heard him; footsteps echo in the stairwell. You don’t think much of it though; Yoongi walks like a cat and you can never tell when he’s behind you either.

You look down at the bags in your hands, giving Seokjin a light smile. “Yes please.”

He jogs up the remaining stairs to meet you, and you envy the bounce of his dark hair that falls perfectly back into place. He’s dressed more casually today, with a loose white tee-shirt tucked into black jeans. He gently takes the bags from one hand and reaches for the other.

“Oh, I’ve got these.” You chuckle the sound awkward to your own ears and you want the floor to open up and swallow you. Seokjin thankfully says nothing of it, though.

“Which floor are you on?”

“The one above us.”

“Oh really?” Seokjin smiles at you and waves his free hand, “Howdy neighbor.”

You blink at him, a little confused, “Huh?”

“I moved in this morning!” He’s already walking up and you step quickly to follow. “you know the apartment just before the staircase?”

“That’s great! It’s been empty for years. Hobi thinks it’s haunted because he says he keeps hearing noises.”

Seokjin laughs at that, the sound bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. His laugh’s kind of squeaky and it makes you laugh, too.

You both share a light conversation going up the last staircase, and it isn’t as awkward as you thought it’d be. It’s certainly better than last night when you tripped over your tongue just to say hi back.

Seokjin’s presence is oddly calming. Despite being a stranger, it feels as though you’ve been friends for a while. He’s telling you about how he’s planning on decorating his apartment while walking to yours, and asking your opinion on paint colors.

“White always makes a room look bigger. Could be too plain though, if you’re not into that.” You say, fishing your keys from the pocket of your jeans. He places the bags at your feet when you asked him to, “Thank you,”

“No problem,” He gives a smile, a small one that puffs up his cheeks. “Well...I better get going...lots to do.”

“Of course! Bye then.”

“If I don’t see you around, I’ll see you square.” With a very serious expression, Seokjin shoots you some finger-guns before walking away, laughing at his own joke.

You shake your head, chuckling to yourself as you unlock your door.

You throw yourself on Yoongi’s couch, which by the way, was way bigger than yours and way more comfortable.

You groan into the throw pillow, smacking your hand against the cushions. “Yoongi. You traitor. Who’s hand am I supposed to hold now?”

“Hobi’s always available for hand holding.” Yoongi mumbles, barely paying you mind as he gets ready to go out on a date. A Date! How dare he.

“His hand doesn’t get sweaty like yours does!” You turn your head, pressing your cheek against the pillow, “This is absolute betrayal. I’ll never ever forgive you.”

“Quit being dramatic.” Yoongi sighs, fastening the clip of a silver chain around his neck. You pout at him from your spot. “It’s only the first date. If it falls through you’re welcome to hold my hand for the rest of our lives.”

Yoongi doesn’t date often, you honestly can’t remember the last time he even mentioned having one to begin with. You kinda feel bad about your whining, only because you feel bad that everyone’s suddenly finding significant others while you suffer.

“I’m joking.” You say, sitting up, “You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi smiles, all cute and gummy. “Now get out, I’m leaving.” He helps you up off the couch, grabbing his keys from the coffee table.

“You’re so rude!” You trail after him anyway, following him out his apartment. As he locks his door you poke his side, “What’s her name anyway?”

“Justine.” He glances at you, “Jungkook didn’t tell you? She’s on his archery team.”

“You met her through that rascal?” You scoff, crossing your arms, “You guys never tell me anything. When did you even have time to meet them?”

“Hey, I do other things when I’m not hanging out with you.” He walks you to your door, patting his pockets to make sure he has everything. “I’ll call you if I need to make a run for it.”

“Just go!” You push at his arm, waving goodbye, “Let me know how it goes!”

Yoongi’s in the elevator when he finally waves back, and you stay standing there long after the metal doors shut. Staring at your door, you sigh, you’re happy for him, really. Everyone else shouldn’t suffer with you.

“Hello.”

You startle, a frightened screech leaving you as you turn. The person behind you yells, too, backing away from you with wide eyes.

You press a hand to your chest and take a deep breath, “Dude. My heart almost fell out of my ass. Why are you sneaking up on me?”

“Why’d you scream like that? You scared me!” Seokjin presses his back against the wall behind him, a hand against his chest also.

He relaxes, hands dropping at his sides, and you do the same, laughing a bit at the situation.

“Did you need something?” You ask, watching as he steps closer.

“Actually.” He puts a finger up, “I came to make you an offer you can’t possibly refuse.”

“Huh?”

Seokjin straightens his form, smiling again, “I can help you.”

You blink, looking off to the side before your eyes settle on him again, “....help me with?”

Seokjin looks a little confused now, brows furrowing and he puts his hands behind his back and chuckles. “Your problem.”

When you stare at him blankly he sighs, “I can help you find the one you’re destined for.”

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No. I’m not drunk. I’m being serious!” He says, shaking his head, “Why do I always have to do this? I hate this part.”

He’s talking to himself now, and you’re trying to slot your key into your lock without him noticing. Maybe he is drunk, or maybe he’s one of those salespeople who try to talk you into buying shady things.

He suddenly looks at you and you freeze, giving a slow, awkward smile. “Um. Whatever it is... I’m okay. You should go lie down or something.”

“I’m not drunk.” Seokjin repeats, “Your friend went out on a date right? I saw him on the way up.”

That’s weird. Yoongi only left a few minutes ago, if Seokjin took the stairs there’s no way he would’ve seen him.

“I can help you with that. Getting a date, I mean.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Not me, no.” He seems to think for a moment, “I’m actually the only person that can help you. I’m a Cupid. And it’s my job to steer you in the right direction so you can find that person.”

You laugh and he frowns, but what else are you supposed to do? He looks completely serious, and you wave a hand at him.

“Okay.” You say even though you don’t believe him, giving him a thumbs up, “That’s nice. I’m gonna go...and you can go lay down, okay?”

You turn quickly, opening your door and slipping inside. You leave him standing there, shutting the door behind you.

“...oh-kay...”

“I’m so tired.” You press your forehead against the cool wooden table. This isn’t really the way you’d like to spend your Monday afternoon, sitting in a café trying to finish up an article due next week.

The café you frequented is a bit crowded today, some either coming in to get their fix of hot drinks to battle the autumn chill outside, or either just taking in the scenery. There really isn’t much to take in, the cafe is a small hole in the wall on a street corner, with wet roads and people passing by outside.

There’s a park across the street that looks better in the spring, empty now that it’s getting colder and winter’s on the cusp.

You raise your head to stare at your half completed article. Cursor blinking mockingly against the white backdrop of the open word document. At least it’s due by next Friday, you have time to wallow in the writer’s block that’s been plaguing you for days now.

You stare out the window and sigh, watching the people and the cars pass by, watching the light rain that’s been doing nothing but falling all morning. You thought that getting out of your apartment would’ve been better, a change of scenery to help you finish your work. Now that you’re sitting in this crowded café, it’s difficult to concentrate, you don’t know how the college kids do it.

You’re quite bored by yourself, usually, your friend from work, Brinny would be with you. If you’re not working, you could at least pass the time with some gossip or some sort of stimulating conversation. Brinny had to be at the office today, and honestly didn’t have time to meet with you, so you’re stuck struggling alone.

“Y/n?”

You turn your head at the call of your name, the barista behind the counter is waving you over. “Your coffee’s ready.”

Getting up, you hobble over, reaching the counter to take your coffee. The barista smiles at you, closed lipped with dimples you want to sink your fingers into.

Namjoon was new, and you’re glad to see he’s getting the hang of things. You’ve seen the guy spill more coffee beans than he grinds and he’s burned himself so many times that you’ve been permanently worried.

You’ve also seen him staring, always when he thinks you’re not looking. You’ve had a few conversations with him on days when the cafe isn’t so busy, he’d always have some quote from a writer you’ve never heard of or he’d talk to you about art. He’s nice.

He’s cute. Even as he fumbles now to let you know that he put an extra shot of espresso in your coffee because you look tired.

You thank him with a sweet smile before going back to your seat, hoping to remember to leave him a tip.

You sit, squinting at the time displayed on the clock widget of your laptop screen, glancing over at Namjoon again who’s busy behind the counter. Maybe you should take matters into your own hands and just ask him out. Might lead somewhere, hell, you might even have a great time.

“I mean...”

Your head whips around to the person who’s suddenly sitting opposite you. Seokjin looks fashionable in a black coat over a white turtleneck sweater as he pulls a burgundy scarf from around his neck. He’s looking at Namjoon too, squinting at the man. “He’s nice and all but it won’t work out, trust me.”

“Are you stalking me?” You ask, still a little shocked because you didn’t see him approach, you didn’t even hear the chair move. He’s just there.

Seokjin chuckles deeply, the sound a far cry from his high laugh. He turns to look at you, “Me? No. I was just passing by and saw you. Thought I should say hi.”

“Hi. You can go now.”

“Wow.” Seokjin presses a hand to his chest, faux hurt morphing his features, “You wound me.”

“Seriously. Why are you here? Because it kinda looks like you’re stalking me.” You lean back into your chair, crossing your arms.

Seokjin tilts his head at you, expression serious as he simply stares. His eyes are intense, like the night you met him and you know that the shiver that runs through you isn’t from the cold; the café is warm.

“I’m honestly trying to help you.” He says after a while, expression unchanging.

“Right. ‘Cause you’re Cupid?”

“A Cupid. We are many.” He corrects you, putting a finger up. “Trust me, asking Namjoon out is gonna do more harm than it’s worth. Some things are just meant to happen in passing.”

You sigh harshly through your nose, closing down your laptop to stare at him without it in the way. “Listen.”

“You had a really great opportunity to say “Lend me your ear!”. I find that wording more effective in catching my attention, but I digress; speak away.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath as his laugh fills the silence between you. Funny, just Saturday morning you were thinking he was kind of cute with his stupid jokes and his finger-guns and his stupid laugh. Now he’s getting on your nerves and he’s beginning to give you the creeps with how persistent he is about this Cupid thing.

It's always the pretty ones.

“Okay, look.” You raise a hand because you can see he’s about to open his stupid mouth to say something even more stupid. He gives you his full attention, leaning in a bit like he’s waiting to hear the secret to DaVinci’s code. “Do you...perhaps have a psychiatrist I can call for you? Or a guardian?”

His expectant expression drops, he looks agitated now and you’ll take that as a small victory. “I’m not craz....” Trailing off, he slumps back into his seat, “I give up. Why do I always get stuck with the stubborn ones? I’m just trying to do my job.”

He’s talking to himself again, loud enough for you to hear him. He waves a hand at you, looking out the window petulantly, “Do as you wish. Ask him out. I’ll be swinging by to say ‘I told you so’ when it crashes and burns.”

“You know. You definitely can’t be Cupid with that attitude.”

“A Cupid. It’s not just me.” He huffs, sucking his teeth, “Why am I even still here talking to you?”

“I could ask you the same thing, really.”

Seokjin side eyes you, slowly turning his head in a way that you decided at that moment was quite unnatural. There’s something weird about the motion, he’s weird, and that’s all there is to it. He’s no Cupid, and honestly kind of curious about what made him think he was.

“Go for it then.” He waves a hand in Namjoon’s direction, “Don’t let me stop you.”

You feel petty, but you also feel the indescribable need to prove him wrong, so you get up, chair scraping against the floor. “Fine. Watch me.”

Seokjin gives you an unimpressed look, sighing as though you’re the one making his life difficult.

You march your way over to the counter, now that the rush died down, Namjoon’s just sitting idly in a corner, phone in hand. He looks up at your approach, smiling sweetly.

“Hey, need something?” He asks, getting up from the chair he occupied to meet you at the counter.

“Um..” Abort. Abort! Namjoon is looking at you patiently, waiting as you wipe your suddenly sweaty hands on your jeans. You take a breath, “Are you free on Friday?”

“Huh? Y-yeah. I could be?” He looks just as nervous as you do, another small victory; you’re not alone! “Why?”

“I was thinking that maybe we can get a drink? If you’re okay with it?”

“Oh! Yeah. I’d like that, yeah. Let me just... I’ll write my number down for you.” Smiling, he goes around to the other end of the counter, looking for a paper to write on before giving up and grabbing a napkin.

You turn, ready to rub your pettiness into Seokjin’s face but he’s gone. And so is your coffee.

“Dude I mean...are you sure?” Yoongi looks skeptical, raising a dark brow at you as he wipes down a table. He settles chairs into their rightful spots, stuffing napkins into the fancy napkin holders. “Last week you were literally ready to cry over a failed date and you asked a guy out?”

“I was not.” You say, “Water on a duck’s back my friend. This guy’s actually nice, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t go off with some other chick halfway through our date.”

“Well, I thought that you’d just give it a bit of time before going again.” He pauses to look at you, halfway across the empty bar, folding the cloth he was using. “I know you want what everyone else seems to be getting – I’ve noticed it too, lots of couples running around like it’s valentines or something. But I think you should just wait it out.”

“Yoongi.” You whine his name, laying your head against your arm. “I’m not getting any younger.”

“I know.” Yoongi smiles at the offended sound you make, “Everything happens on its own time, sweetheart. Just gotta be patient. Wait a little.”

“But what if I just wait forever?” You mumble, picking at the skin around your fingernails.

“I didn’t say it for you to get sad, you know.” Yoongi walks over to you, he smiles gently, “If you wait forever then I’ll meet you at the end. You can hold my hand while we wait together..” He offers his hand to you, wiggling his fingers.

You give a watery laugh, taking his hand with a sniffle, “That was so corny.”

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

When seven pm rolls around you’re sitting at the bar, sipping on a rum coke that Yoongi gave you to calm your nerves.

The bar’s a little quiet, but you know that it’ll get rowdier as the hours go on. Yoongi’s sitting opposite you, picking at his nails in his boredom.

“I hope tonight doesn’t get busy. Hobi couldn’t come out cause he has some dance things to finalize...”

“It’s Friday, though...” You point to the door with a tilt of your head as a group walks in. Looking fresh out of the office in their business suits and briefcases. Yoongi sighs, hopping off his stool to go greet them.

You spot Namjoon coming through the door next, pulling headphones out his ears and smiling when he sees you. He reaches you in a few long strides, sitting next to you with a soft greeting.

You catch Yoongi’s double take, and the raise of his eyebrows but think nothing of it.

In the hour that goes by, the bar picks up and Yoongi has company behind the counter. Namjoon has you giggling and blushing every time he looks at you, you’d like to think this is going well.

You do the normal routine, getting to know each other, trading jokes. He’s easy to talk to and you like that.

He and Yoongi go way back – Or so he’s told you. You didn’t know this, but when does Yoongi actually tell you anything? – and they make easy conversation while he works. You’re not getting the looks Yoongi keeps trying to send you, though. You’re usually in tune with each other’s signals, but Yoongi’s been sending up smoke all night, because what does he even mean?

“You guys need anything?” Yoongi comes over for the third time, nodding at your empty glass.

“I’m good, thanks.” You wave him away, why’d he keep interrupting?

Yoongi sighs, moving away to help Jimin bring out more glasses from the back room.

“This was nice. I don’t get out much...” Namjoon says, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “I uh...wanted to ask you something...”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Namjoon looks a little nervous, playing with his fingers. “You know, last week when you came to the cafe? It was Wednesday, I think... You came with someone... Brunette about yay high?”

You know who he’s talking about before he actually asks. You sip on your rum coke just so you’d have something to do, watching as Namjoon gives a height estimate with a hand.

“You mean Brinny? Yeah...she works with me.”

You don’t blame him, Brinny’s a darling, an absolute angel. You feel like a complete clown, though. Maybe you’re cursed, or maybe you’ve pissed off some wrathful god in your past life.

You didn’t mean to visibly deflate, really you didn’t , but honestly, you’re tired. You feel like you’re stuck in an endless loop of ‘yeah, this isn’t gonna work out.’.

Namjoon pauses, eyes widening, “Oh God. This wasn’t a date was it?”

Ah, ignorance is bliss indeed. He looks genuinely worried, a crinkle between his brows as they furrow. Eyes round and a hand reaching out hesitantly, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to touch you even if he seeks to comfort you.

“What?” You snort, smacking his arm playfully. It’s the only way you can ease out of it so you don’t burst into tears in front of him. “No way! You’re a cool guy. I can totally put in a good word for you. Brinny’s nice.”

If Namjoon isn’t convinced - and you’re pretty damn sure he isn’t – he doesn’t show it. He nods slowly, smiling a little – a lot – awkwardly at you before throwing back the whiskey in his glass.

“Hey, slow down a bit, yeah?” Yoongi covers the top of your glass with a hand, frowning at you. You stare at his hand, at the rings that glint in the soft lighting of the bar with a pout. He quickly pulls it to him when you reach for it and instead passes you a bottle of water. “Drink this, sober up.”

“D’wanna.” You slur, leaning forward to press your forehead against the cool bar top. Yoongi taps your arm, and you make a disgruntled sound at the back of your throat raising your head with some effort. You prop your chin in your palm and blink slowly at him. “I wanna not exist right now. I’m so embarrassed!”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Yoongi scoffs, twisting the cap off the bottled water, he presses it firmly to your hand. The bar eventually died down, unusual for a Friday but you’re thankful. A whole lot less people to witness your downward spiral into self pity with the help of Yoongi’s fancy drinks. “I swear I thought you knew. I was trying to tell you.”

“What am I supposed to do with your blank ass stare, Min Yoongi?”

“Just drink the water.”

Yoongi leaves you be, walking away to greet someone that waved him over. You stare at the bottle with a frown before picking it up and downing nearly half. “Cupid must be on a holiday or something.”

“I wish.” Seokjin plops himself onto the barstool next to you, and you groan, because he’s the last person you want to see. You hadn’t seen him all week since you asked Namjoon out for drinks, you were just starting to get comfortable. “I could be somewhere nice and sunny right now. Instead I’m stuck looking after you.”

“How are you literally appearing out of nowhere?” You ask, a little sober now, enough to question the way he just randomly popped in.

“I’ve been trying to tell you, but all you do is call me names and hurt my feelings.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, “Enough about me though, I want to hear about your date.” He gives a cocky smile and you really want to punch it right off his pretty face.

“There’s nothing to tell.” You grumble, and Seokjin chuckles.

“I told you so.” He says, shrugging, “You wouldn’t listen.”

“That was a coincidence.” Your throat burns.

“Or was it?” Seokjin nudges your shoulder with his, “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are you so annoying?” You fire back and he purses his lips, raising a perfect brow at you. “I really think you’re stalking me. How’d you know I’d be here?”

“I was just passing by.”

“Right.” You huff, rolling your eyes before leaning forward, “I’m gonna be alone forever.”

“Well, if you’d let me actually do my job you won’t have to worry about that.”

Something hot is burning behind your eyes, throat tightening. You’re once again asking if you’re doing something wrong. You don’t get it, you’re a damn catch! Anyone would be lucky to have you.

You sniffle, swirling the water around in the bottle as tears blurs your vision.

“Please don’t cry.” Seokjin says, but it’s not at all comforting. It comes out in a ‘Are you serious?’ kind of way that only makes you want to cry even more, so you hop off the stool, shooting Yoongi a text on your way out of the bar.

You’re quite aware of Seokjin trailing behind you like he’s got nowhere else to be. Your phone vibrates somewhere in the depths of your bag but you ignore it, promising that you’ll just let Yoongi know when you get home.

“Can you stop following me?” You stop, turning around to face Seokjin.

“We live in the same apartment building!” He points in the direction you’re walking, rolling his eyes, “Is it a crime to go home now?”

“Well can you at least not walk so damn close to me? You’re giving me the creeps.” Turning on your heel you continue walking, and thankfully, Seokjin doesn’t follow until you’re at least five steps ahead.

“My offer still stands, you know!” There’s no reason for him to shout, but he’s doing it anyway. “This’ll keep happening if you don’t accept it!”

You stop walking again, bowing your head to stare at the concrete below your feet. His footsteps slow and stop too, waiting.

“If...If I say yes. Would you leave me the hell alone?” You sigh, looking over your shoulder at him. He’s standing a few steps behind, hands in the pockets of his coat.

“No, but I can leave you alone for the rest of the night if you want.”

You tilt your head back, looking up at the overcast sky. Hoping for it to open up and give you the answer to all your problems. Honestly, what do you have to lose? Best that could happen is that he actually leaves you alone after this and you can go back to figuring it out on your own. Even though you’d already tried that and well...yeah.

“Fine.” You mutter softly, and Seokjin jogs over to you quicker than you can make sense of his movements. “I accept your stupid offer.”

“Finally.” Seokjin smiles, prettily, the glow of the street lamp looks like a halo above his head and for a second, you really believe that he’s an angel. He sticks out a hand, “You have to shake on it.”

“Are you serious?” You deadpan, staring at his hand as though it offended you.

“Yes.” There’s mirth in his eyes and you think he’s pulling your leg, but you shake his hand anyway. “Great! I’ll see you in the morning then.”

You look down at your hand as he walks away, grimacing, “You’re so weird.”

When you look up, Seokjin is gone and you’re standing on the sidewalk completely alone.

::

True to his word, you didn’t see Seokjin for the rest of the night. You’d gotten home, stared at his closed door for a while, having half a mind to knock and ask exactly what you’d gotten yourself into.

You thought that, yes, finally, he’ll leave you alone for good. That today when you had woken up bright and early, you’d be able to get some work done, maybe even clean up the apartment a bit.

You couldn’t be happier to work from home, even though it offers more distractions than you're able to deal with, it’s better to write from the comfort of your own home.

Though, Monday you had to be in the office to discuss some things with your team manager. You know that he’s going to ask about how your article is coming along, so you want enough of it finished by then.

You’re sipping on your coffee, content to watch the world wake up from behind your window, and there’s someone knocking at your door.

Sighing you place your cup on the coffee table, taking your sweet time to walk even as the knocks get insistent. You’re expecting Jungkook at the other side, or Yoongi coming over to give you a piece of his mind for bailing on him last night.

It’s just Seokjin, though. Standing there in black track pants and a white sweater, dark blue recurve bow in hand.

“Isn’t that dangerous to walk around with?”

“Not unless you’re my target.” Seokjin smiles, “Get ready, you’re coming with me.”

“I don’t think so, I have a lot of things to do today.”

“You really don’t.” He taps your forehead with a finger, but you’re not quite sure what he means by that. “Please hurry. I don’t want to be late.”

He races back down the hall, stopping to knock on Jungkook’s door before heading to his own apartment.

::

“Tell me again why I needed to drive you two?” You grumble, car slowing to a stop in the parking lot of Straight Arrow Archery Center. Jungkook gets out with a quick thanks, jogging through the parking lot.

“So I can start today, the quicker I get this done, the quicker I’ll be out of your hair.” Seokjin takes his time getting his things from the backseat, “C’mon.”

He waits until you're out of the car, rocking back on his heels before he marches across the parking lot. You’re following with quicker steps, trying to keep up with his longer strides.

The local archery range was owned by their coach, and they practice indoors when they’re not in the back field during the colder months. A big looming building, with large windows and chipping paint. You’ve only been inside a couple of times, once when Jungkook’s team was going against a team from the city over.

The heat’s blasting in the building, and you rub your hands together to help them warm up faster. Seokjin leads you through the front entrance of the building, where they have different types of bows mounted on the walls. There’s a board behind the counter, pinned full of photos of past teams and flyers about the center and archery safety.

The back room where the range actually is, some of the archers are taking practice shots or sitting against the back wall getting ready. You see Jungkook securing his quiver to his waist, joking with some of his teammates.

“Are you any good?” You ask Seokjin just to taunt and he purses his lips at you, leading you over to one of the many benches scattered around the range.

You sit and watch him set his bow up, attaching the stabilizers, sight and clicker to the front of the bow. He slips the chest guard over his head, sliding his arm through the loop, when he’s securing the arm guard against his forearm he finally answers you.

“I can shoot an apple off your head blindfolded.” He winks, “If you get hungry or anything, there’s a vending machine outside.” With that he jogs off at the call of the coach, the rest of the team following behind.

“Alright you guys, we all know that winter’s coming up, so we have a couple of weeks left to train up for the last competition. After that, we have some time off before the regionals in February.” The coach says, clapping her hands, “So! During these last weeks, I’ll be picking six of you for the competition!”

You watch on, genuinely interested in what’s being said. Jungkook had mentioned regionals a few times, talking about his excitement and nerves. The coach goes on a moment more about what she expects from her team and a few changes for meeting dates.

“Alright, let’s do our best today!” She says, waving them off, “Teams of three please. Seokjin, you’re up first.”

You perk up more, eyes following Seokjin’s movements as he stands behind a marker taped to the ground. He pulls an arrow from the quiver at his hip, the fletching and nock a shimmering gold that catches the overhead lights. He nocks the arrow, pulling the string back to his cheek and aims.

When he releases, you barely see the arrow cut through the air, you only hear the sharp whistle and the dull thump of it hitting the target dead center. The team claps and you’re not far enough to miss their mutterings as Seokjin walks forward to retrieve his arrow.

“He’s so cool!”

Half an hour later, you’re scrolling through your phone, finally answering the million and one texts Yoongi sent you last night.

Seokjin’s skill with the bow honestly surprised you, the way he’d nock and fire off arrows with inhuman precision was actually terrifying. It almost had you believing his little tirade, just almost, you’d yet to be convinced by his claims of being Cupid.

Part of you does believe him, though, as much as you’d hate to even think it. There’s just something strange about him. The way he’d seemingly appear from nowhere, disappear without a sound and – you truly believe that it was a coincidence – the way he knew that pursuing Namjoon would not be in your favor. There’s honesty in his eyes when he speaks of it, either you’re easy to be swayed or he honest to God believes he’s Cupid.

A Cupid, your mind berates and you scowl, shaking your head.

“I didn’t think you’d stick around.” Jungkook sits on the bench next to you, digging around his duffle bag, “I can take the bus back you know?”

“I know, I’m actually waiting for Mr Sharpshooter over there.” You wave your hand in a vague direction, not too certain where Seokjin was standing.

Jungkook nudges your shoulder, “I see how it is.” He wiggles his eyebrows, “I’m definitely taking the bus home.”

“Now why would you say that?” You raise a brow, pocketing your phone, “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that.”

“Sure it isn’t.” He over exaggeratedly winks, quieting to unwrap a sandwich and take a bite. “He’s pretty cool, though. I approve. He’ll have a hard time with Yoongi though...” He says through his mouthful, brows creased - a little angrily - as he chews.

“There’s nothing to approve!” You push his shoulder while he laughs, almost choking on his sandwich. “Kook. Can I ask you something?”

“Hm, yeah. What’s it?”

“Have you actually ever spoken about Seokjin before?” You think about how strange it is, Yoongi mentioned that Jungkook’s spoken of Seokjin before. Now that you’ve asked the question, you realise that you’ve never once heard of him. Most of the time if you’re not by yourself, you’re with the guys, and they aren’t usually by themselves either. Though, it could be nothing, could have been a conversation you weren’t privy to, just something you missed.

Jungkook rarely talks about his practices, unless something big happens, like the regionals announcement or when he wouldn’t let you, Yoongi or Hoseok forget that he fired the winning arrow during the summer semi’s even though you were all there to witness it. Seokjin’s never once come up, you don’t think.

You don’t remember seeing Seokjin in the times you’ve visited the Range or at any of the competitions, though, he seems to be well acquainted with everyone, and no one thinks it’s strange.

Jungkook stops mid bite, brows furrowing out of confusion now – and not because he really likes his sandwich – he nods, slowly.

“Yeah? I think so...” He doesn’t sound as though he believes his own words, “Yup, yeah. Definitely did.” He nods more surely, “....I think?”

“Are you sure? Because...”

“Bad mouthing me? I’ve only been gone thirty minutes, that’s rude.”

You look up to find Seokjin watching you with a raised brow. He unclips the belt at his waist to remove the quiver before he sits down, squinting at you. “What?”

“Nothing...it’s nothing...” You quickly look back to your phone, replying to Yoongi’s recent text.

“I’m gonna get something to drink from the vending machine, want anything?” Jungkook asks, shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and dusting his hands, you shake your head and he shrugs, “I’ll bring you back whatever, then.”

With that he leaves, lengthy hair bouncing with his steps as he makes his way out. You could feel Seokjin’s eyes on you and you slowly turn your head to face him, he’s indeed staring at you, in a way that makes you want to squirm and be as far away from him as possible.

“You have questions.” It’s a statement, because he knows.

“A few.” You nod, studying his features. He looks absolutely normal, nothing awry about him in visage. Leaning closer to him you ask softly for the sake of not being overheard. “Are you really a Cupid?”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow, watching you with thinly veiled suspicion, “What brought this on?”

“I’m just really curious.”

Seokjin hums, “I already told you, I am. I was extremely clear. Why? Change of heart? Or are you just trying to appease me by going along with it?”

There’s a hint of bite in his words, and you suddenly remember him saying that he gives up in the cafe, and realize, if he is indeed what he claims, you’re truly making his job harder. He’s like a venomous snake, poised and ready to strike if you misstep.

For a moment, you think it’s best to never get on his bad side if the slight irritation that darkens his eyes makes you feel cornered.

“I was just wondering.” You say, “It’s just strange how you just suddenly- I don’t think Jungkook knows you as well as he thinks. Yoongi definitely doesn’t know you either.”

“Ah.” He sighs, tilting his head curiously, “What I think is strange is that you noticed that.”

“You know... you’re kind of creepy. I think, sometimes it feels as though you’re normal but then it feels odd, like you’re an anomaly.”

“I’ll try not to be. But that’s just your senses telling you what you don’t want to believe.” Seokjin raises a hand to tap your forehead lightly with a finger.

You frown, “I’m not spiritual.”

“You don’t have to be.” He shrugs, “In terms for you to understand, I walk on a higher frequency than you do. Our energies are completely different, and it doesn’t matter if you are consciously aware of it or not, you’re going to realize that.”

“Okay.” You nod, trying to absorb the words that tumbled out of his mouth even though he basically dumbed it down for you. You’re still not certain if you believe what he says or if your mind is protecting you so that you just take it and run. “Why are you helping me?”

It feels silly to ask, but you’d like to think you’re not so deep and lost within the fog of your non-existent love life that a Cupid would take pity on you enough to step in.

“I hate seeing people struggle. It’s just so sad. You humans are like lambs without a shepherd; wandering aimlessly.” He sighs as though he’s in pain, before a smile breaks and his squeaky laugh follows, “I’m joking...partly.”

You roll your eyes, “No really, I want to know.”

“I don’t think you do.” Seokjin shakes his head, mirth lights his eyes still. Though you just stare at him, waiting, and he sighs, “I’m not supposed to tell you, but I suppose I already crossed a million lines telling you I’m a Cupid.”

He taps a finger against his chin, “I’m trying to get a promotion, it’s extremely important that we get this settled.”

“...what?” You frown, narrowing your eyes at him, “Are you joking?”

“I do find myself hilarious, but no.”

“I thought angels wouldn’t lie.”

Seokjin gasps as though you’d offended him, and judging by the look on his face you probably had. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“Just then. I’m supposed to believe that angels have what? A corporate system?”

“First of all, I do not lie. I just omit small things.” He pokes a finger at you and you swat at it. You want to tell him that telling a half lie is just lying while trying to seem truthful. “Secondly, yes. But I can’t tell you anything more on that, so don’t ask.”

You grumble to yourself, leaning back and away in time to spot Jungkook coming back with more than just drinks.

“He’s quite impulsive.” Seokjin chuckles, and you can only agree.

“Where are we going?” You trail behind Seokjin, down a busy street. Once again, struggling to keep up with his long legs.

“I’ve got a few potential candidates for you, all of which can work out though it mostly depends on your choices.” Seokjin slows down for your sake, “I’m not allowed to outright tell you who’s right for you, I can tell you who’s the wrong choice however.”

“Wouldn’t it just be easier if you told me?”

“It would, but it’s against the rules and frankly takes the fun out of everything.”

“You want to see me suffer?” You cross your arms, and Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head as he turns to face you. He plants his hands on your shoulders, hands drifting down to unfold your arms.

“I think you’ve suffered enough. All work and no pl-“ Seokjin pauses, looking past you. The change in his easy going expression is startling, the humor dimming to be replaced by anger, jaw tensing.

You take a half step away from him, wondering what could bring about his change of mood so swiftly. Curious, you turn to look.

A couple stopped just a few steps from you both, they're both dressed warmly to combat the weather. The guy seems a little shocked, enough that the girl you assume is his girlfriend asks him if he’s okay.

He offers her a smile, one that seemed a little nervous to you. He eyes you for a moment, with the same intensity that Seokjin sometimes does, before his eyes settle on the man next to you.

“Hyunjin.” Seokjin says, eyes flaring with something indiscernible. His voice is clipped, stare harsh as he takes a single step forward.

“Seokjin.” The man replies curtly, pulling his girlfriend slightly behind him, “How about we talk about this elsewhere?”

He motions a hand to the people passing by who was paying no mind to either of you. Seokjin turns on his heel, walking briskly and you stumble to follow.

Seokjin is unusually quiet as he leads you through the streets, and you wonder just who Hyunjin is to him for him to react this way.

You pass by familiar places, the café where Namjoon works, and across the street to the park that was suspiciously empty.

You’re afraid to ask Seokjin what the matter was, mindful of the way you can feel the anger radiating off of him. So you keep quiet, stopping when he does, and sitting on the park bench when he tells you to.

He keeps walking, stopping a good distance away, waiting.

Hyunjin sighs, placing a gloved hand against his girlfriend’s cheek. “I won’t be long, okay?”

She nods and he leaves, walking towards Seokjin. As she sits next to you, you offer her a smile, “Sorry, I hope we aren’t interrupting you two.”

“It’s okay.” She says, pushing her glasses back up her nose with a hand. She glances over to where Seokjin and Hyunjin are talking briefly. “Is he your friend?”

You snort, friend is one hell of a reach, “Fortunately not.”

“I’m Nikki.” She offers a hand that you shake.

“Y/n.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Seokjin’s voice raises and both you and Nikki turn toward them, “You can fall for this. She’s human, Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin walks away, leaving Seokjin to gawk in disbelief. They both look angry enough to ignite the air around them, and Hyunjin ignores the call of his name, eyes softening when he lays them on Nikki. She stands at his approach, taking the hand that he offers. He gives you a long look, “I’d let him cool off first.”

You can only nod, voicing a soft goodbye as they leave.Turning your head you watch Seokjin who was too busy staring daggers into Hyunjin’s retreating form.

You give him a moment, waiting until Hyunjin and Nikki are across the street, until they merge into the crowd. You sit quietly, toeing the stone path beneath your shoe, kicking at a pebble and watching it roll its way away from you.

Eventually, Seokjin makes his way back, sitting next to you with a long drawn out sigh. “I have a headache.”

“You get those?” genuinely curious, you ask, but the withering glare Seokjin sends your way makes you snap your mouth shut. “Who is he?”

Seokjin sighs, running a hand through his hair in a way that’s deceptively human. You’re once again jealous of the way the strands fall back into place like they weren’t disturbed, making a note to ask him what shampoo he uses.

“Hyunjin is...” he shakes his head, jaw clenching, “We’ve been searching for him for a year. A guardian angel. That girl is his charge and up until now they’ve both been missing.

He said that he won’t leave her. That he would rather fall because he loves her. Ridiculous. It’s wrong, there’s only one way that could end and it’s not going to be nice. His duty isn't to love her that way.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it...” You mutter quietly.

“Of course you wouldn’t. You don’t understand, there’s no way that you can begin to. He’s putting her and himself in danger.”

He quiets and you do too, the air is still charged and Seokjin goes off muttering to himself. You glance at him and you can see that he’s thinking, fingers pressed against his lips as he stares at nothing in particular. It isn’t your business, but you ask anyway, “Are you gonna tell them that you found him?”

“I should.” Seokjin replies after a moment more of silence, “For now, though, I’ll turn a blind eye. I have more important things to do.”

“Right, yeah.” You nod, eyeing him carefully, “What were you saying earlier? Candidates?”

You’re not quite sure how people find watching sports exhilarating. Though, you’re here for Jungkook – and Seokjin - sitting on a bench between Yoongi and Hoseok, cheering as loudly as you can.

Its the last competition before the break, and if the Athens shoot the winning arrow, they’ll be at regionals next year.

You’d wished him and Seokjin luck before they’d left this morning, knowing well the latter didn’t need it at all. You know Jungkook was nervous, you can see him bouncing his leg even from where you are.

“Any bets?” Yoongi nudges your arm with his, passing you a soda, “I hope Jungkook doesn’t drop his bow or anything...”

“Nah, he’ll be fine. Seokjin’s on his team, there’s no way they’d lose.”

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot.” Hoseok comments, and you spot him dipping his fingers into the pocket of his sweater only to come out with a gummy worm.

You wiggle your fingers at him, he side eyes you but gives you some anyway. “He’s cool.” You shrug, ignoring the soft snort that leaves Yoongi.

“Right.” There’s a knowing look that Yoongi sends you, one that you also ignore.

The teams take turns, women from opposite sides going first, and then the men, all scoring fairly well for their teams. It’s a moment again before the last shooters are ready, and they can either make or break the win.

Five minutes and a couple more gummy worms after, Seokjin is finally stepping up to his marker. If he scores a full ten, the Athens would take the win.

He nocks his arrow the way you’ve seen him done before, and the crowd quiets, waiting with baited breath. He takes aim and your squeezing Hoseok’s hand, he releases the arrow. There’s the sharp whistle, louder that the stands are still, and the sound of it hitting the target.

The folks that came all the way from your city to watch cheers the loudest as Seokjin and his team celebrates the win.

You’re all gathered in your apartment after the match. Though, Everyone had decided that celebrations would wait until the morning, desperate to get home and out of the cold of the winter air and into the warm houses. You just wished someone could convince the archers in your friend group.

Seokjin had insisted on doing something, claiming to be busy the next day. He’d drag you all off to the market, rushing you around to pick stuff from a crumpled list he pulled from the bottom of his duffle bag.

“Hey,” Seokjin says greets softly, passing you an opened beer with a soft smile.

“Thanks” You smile back, because he’ll just nag your ear off until he gets you to smile. Seokjin’s been in the kitchen since you all came back, shooing both you and Yoongi attempting to help, claiming culinary genius.

Your apartment does smell aromatic; filled with a blend of different spices. You know whatever Seokjin’s making is gonna knock your socks off. “You better wow me with your cooking. After you chased me out of my own kitchen.” You tease, and Seokjin chortles.

“Trust me, my cooking is unmatched.” He says confidently, chest puffing up.

You hum around the mouth of your beer, “Uh huh. You’ll have to prove that. No one’s better than Yoongi.”

Seokjin side eyes you playfully, poking at your stomach with a finger that you grab onto, “Yeah, Yeah.”

He quiets, wiggling his finger in your grip, “I wanted to do something nice.”

You make a confused sound in the back of your throat, because what more could he possibly want to do? He’s already helping you find the person you’re meant to be with, and on top of that, have the patience of Mother Theresa and you remain stubborn to a fault. Though, you suppose, he has his nature and you do too.

Hoseok and Jungkook are watching some age old holiday film, not paying mind to either you or Jin. Yoongi had long said he’d be back, though it’s been a half hour with no sign of your grumpy best friend.

“Wanna help me in there?” Seokjin points his thumb over his shoulder, and you raise a brow, “You can help me cut some stuff; I’ve only got two hands.”

“You sure you actually need my help?”

“She’s a disaster in the kitchen.” Yoongi suddenly appears behind Seokjin, a bottle of whisky in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. “I’ll help.”

You make an offended sound, “I’ll have you know that I am great at cutting stuff!”

Yoongi only hums, slinking off like a bored feline into the kitchen. Seokjin pats your head, “You know how to hold a knife, right?”

“Why are you cutting it like that?”

You look down at the cutting bored through the tears stinging your eyes, and you sniffle, “I could barely fucking see. I hate cutting onions.”

Yoongi shoos you away, taking the knife gently from your hold, “Go wash your eyes.”

You shuffle, partly blinded by the sting and tears in your eyes to the sink, arms stretched out before you as your only guide. A warm hand grasps your wrist, leading you forward, “I thought you said you were good at it.”

Seokjin’s voice holds amusement, and you don’t have to see him to know he’s getting a kick out of the situation. You want to tell him that your skill with cutting vegetables and the onion’s rhine burning your eyes has absolutely nothing to do with each other, but you’re too busy trying to find the tap with your hands.

He turns the tap on for you as you lean down towards the flow, and you feel his hands pulling your hair back and out of the way. Sweet relief comes with the cool stream of water rinsing the sting from your eyes, though they’re still irritated enough for you to dig the heels of your palms into them when you straighten. “Onions are evil.”

“Are they?” Seokjin gently pulls your hands away from your face, “Don’t rub them.”

“Tell that the itch driving me up a wall.” You’re a little surprised at how close he is, barely an inch away from you. The rhythmic sound of Yoongi cutting vegetables fades to background noise that you can barely focus on, distracted by Seokjin’s brown eyes peering into yours and the gentle way he swipes his thumbs under your lower lids.

“They’re all red now.” He says softly, and he seems distracted too, eyes filtering away from yours and somewhere lower.

“You guys want me to leave?” Yoongi drawls, effectively breaking the moment, “I can do that you know. Just walk right outta here.” He’s pointing the knife over his shoulder, eyebrow raised, though there’s humour in his eyes.

You pull away from Seokjin’s hands, clearing your throat, “Can I finish cutting the onions now?”

“No, but you can start on the bell peppers for me.” Seokjin hands you a small glass bowl with yellow and red peppers, and you do your best to ignore his fingers brushing yours.

When dinner was ready, the four of you gather at the table, trading laughs and stories and you feel content in this moment. Watching your boys be happy, and Jungkook laughing so hard he chokes only to be scolded by Yoongi. Seokjin next to you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him.

You wonder how it’ll be once his job’s done and he leaves, would you miss him? He’s still as weird as you thought he was that time you met him in your hallway. You’ll miss his laugh, and the way he can comfort you without trying, you’ll miss him doing his best to make you happy even when he doesn’t have to.

The way he pulled you close when one of your first dates went wrong even with his meddling.

You’ll miss him.

Seokjin’s grown quite fond of you, he thinks, a dangerous thing, he believes. Over the weeks that passed, he’s successfully done his job; setting you on the right track to find your person.

The first couple of dates, Seokjin seeked out people you were familiar with, rather than strangers.

He’d stay close by at all times, observing from a distance. On the days when you’d rather not do anything, Seokjin would meet in your apartment. He’d never tell you that the thing’s you’d have him get up to weren’t what he’d consider fun. He’d go anyway, content to watch you instead of whatever movie you’d convinced him to watch with you.

That’s when he realized it.

Funny, really.

Seokjin has seen love before, as it is, his duty was to bring those who are fated together by a series of coincidences. A meet-cute here, a spilled coffee there, even going as far as to reunite friends who've grown up and apart from each other. He’s seen how love can make people bloom like flowers in the spring, and change like seasons together.

He’s seen love make people go distances they’d have never dared to otherwise. He’s seen it in simple words and touches, grand and minute gestures.

So, Seokjin knows what love is when he feels it. It’s that feeling he gets in his chest when you smile, poking fun at him because there’s always something that’s so distinctively human he would never understand. Strange now that it makes him happy, you’re at a point where you no longer deny him being your friend when other people ask, when you take his teasing in stride like friends do.

You’re happier now, despite the trial and error and the hoops you have to jump through to get where you want to be.

It’s the way your hand felt in his when you held it for the first time. It was after one of your many dates, a Saturday evening when the sun was already dragging the moon into the sky.

First snow, and you’d both sat on swings in an empty park far away from where you’d normally venture. Crystalline flakes fluttered into your hair and melted on your clothes. He’d given you his scarf before you could start to shiver.

He’d been content to watch you then, boots kicking at the snow that was piling up quickly.

Watching the way you found joy in a snowflake landing on your nose, and the way you’d try to catch them with your tongue. On the way out of the park, you held his hand because there was ice on the ground and you didn’t want to slip.

Even through the layer of your gloves Seokjin felt the warmth of your skin. He’s way beyond being flustered by such a thing, but heat climbed his neck and flushed his cheeks and he blamed it on the cold.

Seokjin felt something curl around his heart tightly, and he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He understands Hyunjin now, he thinks, his words play on his mind more frequently these days. Unlike Hyunjin, though, Seokjin is too rooted to his place.

The dangers that would come from you and him being anything more than what you are now are too great for Seokjin to risk it. He knows well what would come of it, and it’s nothing good. You would have to spend the rest of your life hiding from the seeing eyes of others, and the forces that will undoubtedly tear you apart.

Seokjin doesn’t want that for you. You will be more unhappy than you’ve ever been. Forced to remain in shadows even when Seokjin represents a light greater than man could ever create. It would be selfish of him to want it, to go through with it as though he’s not making you suffer.

There’s a lump in his throat as he swallows, as he looks at you now, sitting next to him, with not a care in the world.

You glow brightly, like a star, burning hot in the far distance. Far, far off. And just like a star, you’re something he could never reach, even with all his prowess; you aren’t his to hold.

Though he wants to, and it hurts that he can’t.

“Jin.” You call his name softly, and Seokjin realizes that he’s failed. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so defeated.

He’s seen you, too. The way you’d try to pretend that his feelings aren’t yours as well. He knows. He’s seen love enough to know.

The way you’d flush at your friends’ teasing, but would not deny it. The way you’d watch him as though you’ve found something that you’ve been searching for.

“Are you okay?” Your concerned tone made him realize that he’s turned to look at you, but he’s not said anything. He nods, a little unsurely and you have a right to not look convinced.

You’re different now than you were when Seokjin met you. When he’d planted himself into the memory of your friends for the sake of his task. Truly, he wasn’t supposed to, he was supposed to do his job from a distance, never to interfere. He’s watched you go on date after date and all his arrows would fall short of their target.

So, he did the most sensible thing and got directly involved. He was supposed to be finished already, it was supposed to be quick. He’s lingered too long, and now he's sunk so deeply into clear waters that it's turned to mud. He’s unwilling to lead you to the one you’re destined for – even though he knows who it is – and he’s unwilling to let himself be the one to love you instead.

His duty isn’t to love you, he knows this.

“I’m okay.” Angels aren’t supposed to lie, but he did, and he has been for a while. Trying to convince himself that he wasn’t falling in love with you.

“You’re lying.” You say, knowingly. How far have you come to be able to read him like this?

“I’ve never once lied to you.” Seokjin says, and it’s without his usual mirth. You give him a questioning look and not much else, nodding your head slowly.

“If you say so...”

Seokjin simmers in his thoughts for a while, glancing at you when you laugh at something silly.

“Y/n,” He calls softly, and you hum, turning to face him. Seokjin takes a breath, “I have to leave.”

“Right now? The movie isn’t even finished yet.”

“I know...” Seokjin sighs, running a hand through his hair. He stares at the TV screen, not really paying attention, watching a young girl ride a dragon to a far away place. He never understood your reason for having a TV in your bedroom, but it’s quite convenient for comfort.

He could just leave quietly, slip out of your apartment and out of your life without a word. It doesn’t feel right to do so without telling you, though.

“I won’t be back.” Seokjin waits for his words to settle, as the movie fades to background noise and he watches as realization dawns on you.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” You ask, voice pitching at the end, you stand and he does too, “But you haven’t – You can’t leave.”

“I have to.” He places his hands on your shoulders, trying to calm the storm before it blows in. It’s not helping, he knows, as you take a step back.

“Tell me why.” You demand, and Seokjin sees the tears in your eyes before they fall. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no. You didn’t do anything. It’s me.” Seokjin sighs, “This...this was a mistake. I never should have gotten involved.”

You call his name then, with so much pain that Seokjin feels his heart shatter in his chest. He hates it. He hates that even doing this, he still manages to make you unhappy, he’s the cause of your uneven breaths and the tears that race their way down your cheeks and he hates it.

“I’ll make sure you find them. I promise.”

“But I don’t want that! I love you. You can’t just leave.”

Seokjin lets his hands fall to his sides, staring at a spot somewhere above your head to avoid looking you in the eye. He knows what you want, of course he does, because he wants it to. You've gone and said it and that only makes things harder.

“Y/n.” He says your name firmly, and you snap your mouth shut, shoulders shaking still as you try to put an end to your tears. He takes a step closer, raising a hand to cup your cheek, “We can never be. It’s not meant to be this way.”

“Please don’t go.” You whisper, fingers curling around his wrist. “Please stay.”

His resolve is breaking. The longer he stays the harder it’ll be to walk away. Sighing he wraps his arms around you, holding you as you shatter.

Seokjin presses a kiss to your forehead and your eyes in turn, chasing away the remainder of your tears. There’s sadness still in your eyes when you open them, he tilts your head back to capture your lips softly with his.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, wiping away tears that still fall.

“Do you promise?”

Instead of answering, Seokjin kisses you again, hands slipping under the warmth of your sweater to meet your soft skin. He feels the shiver that runs through you, and he wonders if his hands are cold. You call his name softly and he gently quiets you, tugging lightly at the hem of your sweater, “Can I take this off?”

You nod and Seokjin helps you wiggle your way out of it. He doesn’t think of the consequences – he doesn’t want to, so he allows his mind to blank. He’ll give in only this once, he’ll give himself to you for the first and last time, no matter how selfish it seems.

He kisses you slowly, making a map of the marks he leaves against your skin. He wants to tell you everything, he wants to take every step with you, meet you somewhere along a coast where nothing matters. But here, he’ll steal this moment and keep it with him forever, until the pain of it fades and he could look back on it fondly.

He quiets the small sounds you make with his mouth, hands bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist. You fit perfectly below him, like a puzzle piece of a puzzle he’s been trying to find.

He props himself up on his hands, gazing at you, “You’re so beautiful.” He leans down, brushing his nose against you, lips finding yours again.

There’s a storm raging outside, wind sending snow pattering softly against your window. Seokjin tries not to let his mind wander, not when you're beneath him and so warm. Your skin is warm, your scent invades his senses and you’re the only thing he could see and Seokjin feels like crying. There’s something in the back of his mind that’s screaming at him, jarring and loud, that he should savor this moment because he’ll never have it again.

He pulls away from you, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, “I’m taking these off, okay?”

Your knee nudges his side, “You first. You’re still dressed.”

Seokjin chuckles, quickly pulling his sweater and the tee-shirt he wears over his head, “Now we’re even.”

He stands to step out of his sweatpants, allowing you a moment to strip the rest of your clothes on your own. He settles next to you, fingers tracing patterns against the soft skin of your inner thighs, touching lightly just to watch your eyes flutter shut and your nipples stiffen into peaks when he blows air over them. He marks you with his teeth and his tongue, taking a nipple into his mouth, hand stilling when you raise your hips to meet it.

“Impatient little thing.” He mutters, but cuts your pleading whine short, fingers finding where he knows you want him most, groaning at the wetness he finds. He rubs slow circles against your clit and catches your moans with his lips. When he’s teased you enough, when your desperate moans of his name is enough to make him rut his growing erection against your hip, he sinks his fingers into your heat, thumb never leaving your clit.

He curls his fingers against a spot that makes you cry out, your arousal drips into his palm, and he sucks bruises into the skin of your neck. Seokjin’s hips jerk forward when your fingers curl around his cock, squeezing around the base, “Fuck.”

Your other hand stills his and he pulls away to look at you, pupils blown and eyes heavily lidded, chest rising and falling with your breaths. “Can we just...”

“It’s been a while for you, right?” Seokjin asks softly, slowly resuming the thrust of his fingers, at your nod there’s a smirk on his exhale, “It’ll hurt if I don’t. Gotta stretch you out first.”

He can feel the way your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers, feel the way shudder, moans rising his pitch. “Jin- fuck, I’m so close.”

“Already?” Jin tilts his head, tone teasing. He kisses you, tongue sliding against your own, “Let go for me, baby.”

Your gasp is followed by a drawn out moan, curses and unintelligible words on the end of it. Seokjin watches you tip over the edge, unable to help the motion of his hips thrusting his cock into the loose grip your hand had around it. Removing his fingers from your heat, he lets you catch your breath, pressing a kiss to your temple, “You did so well baby, so good for me.”

Seokjin pulls away, placing a fleeting kiss on your shoulder, “Do you have condoms?” He asks, rubbing a hand on your trembling thigh. He would’ve thought you’d passed out if it wasn’t for the limp way you motion to the bedside table.

You peek an eye at him, “I’m clean if that’s what you’re worried about.” You murmur, and Seokjin smiles, shaking his head.

“That’s good to know sweet girl, but it’s not that. You don’t want what I can give you, trust me.” Seokjin turns to rummage through your things, finding the box tucked into a corner, “It’ll be hell if something unexpected happens. We’ll have a very big problem on our hands.”

“Oh, you mean...”

“Yes. It’s best if we avoid that.” He tears the glossy wrapper with his teeth, moving back to you, he kneels between your open legs. He slides the condom on and you prop up on your elbows to watch, when Seokjin’s eyes flicker up, he could see the hint of worry in yours. He raises a hand to brush your cheek with his fingers, “I’ll go slowly.”

He’s mindful of his size and how long it’s been for you as you settle again, one hand gently gripping your hip, he keeps his eyes on you, watching your every expression. He drags his cock against your sopping cunt, hand holding steady, he leans down to slot his lips to yours, “Ready?” He whispers, waiting until you nod.

A groan leaves him as he enters you, and your fingernails scratches red into his shoulders. He buries his face against your neck, teeth nipping at the skin he could reach, giving slow shallow thrusts until he bottoms out. You’re so warm and tight around him, he takes the calls of his name as prayer, you cling to him as though he’d disappear, and Seokjin thinks that some part of you knows.

Nothing you can say or do will make him change his mind, but he’ll allow you this moment. This moment where it’s just you and him and nothing else, where he can easily show you how he feels without promising anything more.

He thrusts slowly, wanting the moment to last for as long as it can, knowing that he will go on and remember this, and you, when the morning comes you would never know that you’ve loved and been loved.

This way, it’s better, it’ll be easier knowing that one day you’ll find what you need in someone else that isn’t him, without ever knowing what you mean to him at all. Things will return to the way it was meant to be, with him watching from a distance, guiding you in the way he was supposed to from the start.

Seokjin wills the tears behind his eyes to go away, and tells his mind to shut up.

Your name is a sigh on his lips, a prayer that when the time comes he could walk away. Your hips rise to meet his thrusts, and Seokjin loses his fingers in your hair, holding you closer because it’s all he could do as you grow ever tighter around him. He chases his end as you find yours, lips crashing against yours sloppily when he stills, release spilling into the condom.

“Are you okay?” Seokjin asks after a moment, when the room doesn’t feel like a sauna, and he’s finished cleaning you and himself up. Brushing back your hair that hides your eyes from his view, you kiss his palm and Seokjin tries not to let his sadness show in his smile.

“I’m okay. Can we take a shower? I feel gross.” You laugh, already getting up to walk to your closet, you throw a towel at him and he catches it.

“That’s rude, we don’t throw things.” Seokjin trails after you, taking your hand in his because he needs to be grounded right now and not think about what he has to do.

When you stir the next morning, the other side of the bed is cold, but Seokjin’s sitting at your side, brushing your hair away from your eyes.

“You’re still here?” You murmur, smiling sleepily. You open your eyes a bit to see him fully dressed in last night’s clothes.

“I’m here.” Seokjin smiles sadly, massaging your scalp with his fingers, “I have to go.”

You pull away from him to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with a hand, “Are you coming back?”

He watches you quietly for a moment before he shakes his head, “I can’t.” He takes your hand and squeezes gently, “This...we can’t.” He sighs, frustrated, knowing what he has to say, what he needs to do.

Seokjin has spent thousands of years watching the rise and fall of mankind over and over, doing his duty as a Cupid to bring those who are fated together. He’s seen heartbreak, he’s seen how it shatters a person’s very being, now he knows what it feels like as he watches tears gather in your eyes because you know, too.

“Don’t go. Please. We can make this work, Jin. Please.” His throat feels tight, something is squeezing his chest and he hates it. He hates that you’re crying because of him, because he’s breaking your heart. “Please stay.”

“I can’t.” Seokjin whispers this, pulling you closer when you reach for him, the sound of your sobs etches into his core and they cut deep. He’s held you, a star, and you’ve burnt him now. Stars burn the brightest as they die, giving their all in the last moment of their lives, and like a star he watches as you implode.

Sometimes though, stars don’t always turn into black holes when they die, sometimes they scatter into matter and burn dimly forever. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Why? Why’d you let me fall for you?” You hiccup, pushing at his chest and Seokjin lets you, letting his hands drop at his side. “You knew that this was going to happen and you let it happen!”

Your tears are angry now, but still so sad, and you slap weakly at his arms. “Why?”

“I’m sorry.” He cups your cheeks with his hands, thumbs catching your tears. He wished it wasn’t this way, he wished that things were different, that maybe, you could’ve met him under different circumstances. That he wasn’t him, but you were still you. He wasn’t expecting it, like most things, it simply happened.

He kisses you while you cry, your fingers curl tightly into the material of his sweater, “I’m sorry. You have to forget me.”

You pull away from him completely, tears flowing faster now, “No.”

“Y/n.” He sighs.

“You can’t do that. What gives you the right?” You escape his reach, moving to the other side of the bed where you get off, turning to face him, “You can leave. You can go and pretend that this never happened. You can’t make me forget, I don’t want to forget you.”

Sighing Seokjin gets up too, walking around the bed to you. You step backwards until you have nowhere to go, back against the wall. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“So stubborn.” Seokjin clenches his jaw, his head hurts and he wants this to be over. The longer he stands here having this conversation, the harder it will be to follow through. He walks until he’s in your space, hand finding your cheek again. “Why are you always so stubborn?”

“Jin.” You whisper his name and his heart breaks, “Please.”

“Are you ready to spend the rest of your life knowing that we can never see each other again? Knowing me will put everyone you care about in danger. There’s no chance. It’ll break you and I’d rather not have that happen.” Seokjin says, “This was never supposed to happen. We weren’t meant to happen.”

“I don’t want to forget.” You repeat, stubbornly. “Please don’t make me forget.”

Seokjin leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his fingers already at your temple before you have the chance to stop him. He leans away, just watching you, memorizing your features as though he’d ever forget. “I love you.”

You finally quiet, staring at him with wide eyes, “Jin.”

“I’m sorry.” You fall limp and Seokjin catches you before you can hit the floor, holding you to him as the dam breaks and he cries. He cries for the moments he’s shared, the moments you would now live never to remember, he cries because he knows what heartbreak is and he feels it. “I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

After he places you back into bed, he makes sure that nothing belonging to him remains. Seokjin walks slowly out of your apartment, looking around at everything because it’s the last time. There’s no way he can come back here, he needs to go as far away as he possibly can.

Softly, he closes your door behind him, and every step he takes he feels as though his heart is being pulled out his chest. He makes it all the way down the hall, and into the elevator when Yoongi steps out of his apartment. He looks at Seokjin for a moment, no sign of recollection whatsoever. The last thing Seokjin before the doors slide close is Yoongi opening yours and going in.

“Y/n. Why the fuck are you sleeping with the window open? Are you trying to get sick?” Yoongi stomps his way into your bedroom, pulling your window shut. He turns to look at you as you sit up, “Hey. Why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” You hum, confused, wiping your fingers under your eyes, “I...I don’t know? Must’ve been a dream?”

“Can you get ready in ten minutes?” Yoongi boldly rummages through your drawers, throwing clothes your way. “The café has deals on donuts and I wanna get some before they sell out.”

He walks to your door, while you sit, still sleepy, still confused. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah...I just...I feel like I’ve lost something.”

Broke your heart? Read the What If sequel drabble - Here

Tagging: @xpeachesncream @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @euphoricfilter @luaspersona @mssukeyna @matchstick6812 @jinsquishes @allhobbitstoisengard @eren-fall @dontstoptime​ @eoieopda​

[kithtaehyung]

If the 3tan crew was having a holiday party right now🥳

Reader and bro finished making food after everyone showed up because bro woke up late.

Which means the first ones arriving helped them: Hobi and Dom—since those two always make a point to make it on time.

Yuri showed up with dumplings and they were the first food to be cleared out, and Tae showed up with jjajangmyeon and ate most of it himself.

Jimin arrived with a couple stacks of cash for card games, and laughed when Yoongi, Seokjin, Jungkook, Rohan, Shiv, and Jia all did, too. Bro gets his cash from his room before they all eventually start playing.

Now Namjoon, Tae, Hobi, Reader, Yuri, Dom, and lots of other people are watching them in the game room, cheering when one of them successfully bluffs or wins a hand outright. Tae whispers in reader’s ear from time to time calling out all the bluffs before they happen.

Seokjin ends up with a huge pot, and everyone else at the table groans into their hands while he shoots up out of his seat and everyone watching yells with him.

Yoongi wins a big sum after losing a few rounds, and Jimin smacks him while he gloats as if he didn’t ever lose.

Reader laughs at this with sparkles in her eyes, and almost chokes on their drink when Yoongi spares a quick wink.

Throughout the night, people either move to the garage, the backyard, or the living room to watch any games on. Reader and friends have drinks in the kitchen before reader goes to the bathroom.

After they come out, they don’t expect Yoongi to be the one waiting, and he immediately slides in and closes the door, stealing a kiss before patting reader’s ass. “Get back out there, doll.”

The night goes for awhile, with everyone handing out gifts or chilling before playing card games again. Yoongi and reader don’t gift each other anything, but Yoongi’s gift is from both reader and bro. It’s late as hell before people eventually head out.

Jimin, Tae, and Yoongi are the last ones left, and bro cracks out a new bottle of whiskey for everyone to share. Yoongi and him talk about new ones they got recently, and reader joins for a glass before getting up to clean.

Everyone helps out after Yoongi gets up to assist, and then everyone goes back out to the backyard to sit and talk. Reader listens and laughs while they all share stories from back then, and goes up after getting too sleepy.

It’s not until a couple hours later that Yoongi texts reader. And it’s simply to say:

Lemme get you a gift, doll.

I want to.

[wonderfuldeath]

.o| First Day. |o.

Jimin x Reader, Gender Neutral Y/N

Warnings : Past Death, Holidays, Cheesy

Part of a Christmas Calendar

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22]

[23] [24]

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"- He will not come back. ”

Of course, you know that he will not come back, that it was surely only a utopia, but it tenses you. Maybe people were wrong, maybe he was going to come back, as bright as before, as beautiful and tender as the first time you met. You just nod your head, swallowing the bitterness that inhabits you while your eyes look outside: there is snow falling.You still imagine the footsteps in the snow and the laughter of the children. Winter was a wonderful time, everything was covered with white, the decorations of the holidays were seen everywhere and the joy of people permeated the surroundings. But it wasn't your case, this kind of moment didn't really touch you anymore, it was a little above you. Because you knew that he would no longer be there, that Christmas would no longer go as you liked to do before. Because your loved one had disappeared a year ago and you had the impression that whatever you were facing, you couldn't stop people from talking. It was like being locked in a loop that never keeps silent, people didn't want you to forget, while continuing their lives. And you almost feel suffocating every time you think about turning the page. Tell you that the world couldn't ask you to stop think about it. A breath, a little tired passes your friend's lips. He had always been there for you, a pillar when your world was to stop spinning, when your phone rang, at two o'clock in the morning, telling you that things would never be the same ever again. Your lover had an accident, he was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, telling you that he would only come back the next day, looking for the perfect gift for the holidays. He had found, and had to pay for it with his life. However, you still wear the jewel, the only thing you could have recovered, the rest was to seal in cold boxes, locked in a cellar. And just the memory brings back your tears. He was going to propose to you. And you would surely have said yes, because a wedding under the snow, there was nothing more romantic. Your fingers are clenched on your arms, while you hold your sob, collapsing once again.

"- You should go out and ventilate a little, don't you think?

- What would I find outside? You say it yourself, he won't come back.

- Maybe, but he would have liked you to go out, not let yourself die. ”

And he's right, it frustrates you to tell you that he was right. But it kills you to tell yourself that you were going to continue to live when he wasn't. It was almost annoying. This strange impression that no one understands you takes you to the throat like a terrifying snake, and finally you abdicate, today you didn't want to fight. Outside, your nots sink into the snow, it having made a deadly mud because of salt and frost. It was the right time for long walks, the lighting was magical. But you know it was much prettier at night, when you can see all the magic of Christmas decorations, reminding you of good memories, the taste of sugar and the desire for hot chocolate in front of boring movies and how cliché. But at the same time, it hurts you. Because you lived these moments with the loved being. And now that he was no longer there, then the hot drink did not feel the sam, the taste of sugar had to gone bland. And boring movies would no longer have the same effect. A deep sigh, you regret having followed your friend, who drags you to all the shops he finds interesting. Like you were doing a marathon.

"- Wait for me here, I have for five minutes!

- Why don't we go together?

- Because. Wait, do you want to? ”

Your eyes rise to the sky, and you tell him that you will be in the book section. Because literature was almost a religion. The smell of new books, the sweetness of a cover and the desire to read a new story that would take you away from your world. Caught in your thoughts, you don't notice that you are not alone and your hand hits against the warm hand of the stranger, which surprises you both. Your eyes intersect and the first thing that strikes you are the little eyes of the man, a little bigger than you. His shy smile almost made them disappear under his cheeks. And you can only find him adorable.

"- Excuse me, I didn't see you. Go ahead, I'll take another one.

- Unfortunately, this one is the last of the department.

- Oh. Too bad then.

- I didn't really want it, you can have it. ”

Your gaze rests on him, pointing out that he was a very bad liar. He has a fleeing look, and he seems to try not to really look at you. He was really so cute, and this thought squeezes your throat. Your eyes land on the book as you pull it from the ray, reading at an angle, not hanging any words before finally reaching it to him, visibly surprising him.

"- This is not my kind of literature.

- Really? I don't want you to force yourself.

- It's okay. I assure you. ”

Your sincere smile seems to reassure him as he takes the book, looking at it much longer than you, and you can't help comparing it to your former partner. He was a bit the same in his facial expressions, of course physically they didn't really look alike. Your lover was a little taller, he had rounder eyes. But he had the same way of being, the shy one of an introvert. You had met him a little in the same way as him, and you told yourself that fate had a bitter humor. When your eyes cross, you slap yourself mentally, apologizing to half a word before looking at the rest of the shelf, looking for something else to occupy your mind and hands. It was a really strange situation, a heavy silence, and you don't know if you should talk a little more to sink yourself a little more or just let the silence continue. And finally he is the first to break it, with a voice of course not sure, he shows you a new book, resembling the other.

"- This one looks good.

- The coverage seems to be in fact. ”

The book is rather banal in reality, a blue cover, and a big image of a penguin on the front cover, which surprises you both. A crazy laugh, as you read the back cover between two sneers. Forgetting the shyness and weight in your chest. An impossible love story between a penguin and a whale, pointing out that the poor book must surely have been abandoned on the shelves by someone who obviously did not have any sense of respect. However, you don't want to put down the book, not being able to let go of it. Even if it was a child's book, and not completely your kind of reading, their love stories intrigues you, and you hope it ends well.

"- You are here! I've been looking for you for a while now.

- Excuse me, I let myself be carried away by the books. ”

You kindly wave to the man, who answers you with a small light smile, before leaving his company. Your mind is no longer completely focused on pain and remorse, but on this new encounter that, you don't know why, makes you feel better. You are more open to conversation, even laughing a little timidly with your friend, as you leave the store. Tell you that in the end, it wasn't such a bad thing to get out.

-X-

"Do you have everything you need?

- I think so. ”

The sleeves of your jacket straighten to your elbows, you go around the empty room that resonates, checking that you have taken everything, thus ensuring that you do not leave anything important behind. It was a strange feeling, a slight feeling that stings your throat makes you feel a little sick. It wasn't as if you were betraying who it was, or even anything, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling anyway. The little hand rests against your hip, making you startle as you cross the soft look. Absolute tenderness as he pulls you against him, passes a hand through your hair and lets you smell its perfume.

"- Do you still need a little time?

- No. I think we should do it like a band-aid. The slower we do it, the more terrible the pain will be.

- As you wish. Just know that I'm here, if necessary. ”

A slight smile, as you straighten your head, gladly accepting the tender kiss he offers you, before letting him step back. A year had again passed, and Christmas still knocked on the door, like a song a little more honeyed than last year. Finally, you were still met on a striking coincidence. Park Jimin had collapsed with you, spilling his Ice Tea all over you and feeling unwell at the thought that you could get cold. So finally, he drag you a little to offer you something warmer, and replaced your wet top. Step by step, you spoke again, and you told him about the book you bought on Christmas Eve. Then time had done the rest, of course, resuming the taste of love had been harsh, but thanks to it, you had managed to cope with mourning. Of course, you still dreamed of your former lover, sometimes tended to compare them. And if at first it was a little wobbly, the balance had finally come about. Slightly, with tenderness. Jimin showed you again that the world could be wonderful, sugar could sting your tongue and that Christmas movies could be boring but incredible. Being Park Jimin's girlfriend was not the easiest thing, but you wouldn't leave your place for anything in the world, ignoring the comments of fans unable to accept your happiness, simply preferring to live it thoroughly without a headache.

"So let's go back to the car, do you want?

- Of course. But you still haven't told me where we were going to live!

- I told you, didn't I? It's a surprise! ”

You must have learned to be patient, Jimin was the shy kind at first, but he never stopped proved to you that every day was a better day. He didn't offer much gift, but when he did, he just knew how to make your eyes sparkle and your heart beat harder in your chest. So you let him lead, starting a new life again without completely forgetting the old one. He had been understanding, six months before, when you explained your story to him, collapsing in tears when he drag you to him. Swearing that he would teach you not to blame yourself anymore, and accepting your wounds. Trying to turn them into a scar, step by step. And after a year of relationship, you had finally agreed to move in with him, leaving your apartment to reach his home, moving forward on a new stage in your life as a couple.

"- We will not get married under the snow.

- To get married you must have already made your request, right?

- ... I haven't done it yet? ”

Your eyes widen as he looks at you, sitting in the driver's seat. Before he puts his hand to his mouth, visibly plaguing against himself while he searches in his pocket, before taking out the velvet case, a little big for a ring, making you curious.

"- It must have been much more romantic. But.. Do you want to become a Park?

- ... Jimin I..

- I'm not asking you to completely forget him. I ask you to agree to let me take his place. Just for this time and this moment.

- Yes. Yes, I want it, yes! ”

With tears in your eyes, you throw yourself on him, as he hugs you, kissing your cheek, temples and lips, before showing you the beautiful engagement ring, in gold plated with a flake as a jewel, a shiny stone in front of your eyes, while they still fill up a little with tears. Behind the ring, the thin white silver necklace catches your eyes, as he puts the ring on your finger, then takes out the second jewel so that you look at it better.

"- For the other ring. That way you can always have it against you.

- ... Don't you mind?

- He was there before me. And if he had always been there, I wouldn't be in this car with you. He is a part of you. So no. ”

Outside, the snowflakes seem here to make the scene even more romantic.

This year, maybe you were going to reconcile with Santa Claus finally.

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: August 2024

Hi! Thank you so much for looking at my fic recs— I truly hope you find something that you haven’t read, or something to reread maybe? Please show all of these wonderful authors some love on their original post to let them know they made something wonderful ✨

Some of the authors on this list is on hiatus, but please don’t let that stop you from reblogging or commentating on their story— because you don’t know when they might pop back in and see your lovely comment/reblog, so please— if you like something, show some love to the author 🥰

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty or dark as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | 💜 | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Discord Discourse: pt1 and pt2 (series; discontinued) @joheunsaram [4k]  // knj x f.reader // idol!au, internet relationships, s2l, fanfic writer!reader // 🌩️🥰

📝 Kim Namjoon likes to spend time in a discord server… dedicated to him. With new friends and a budding crush, will he ever be able to truly be himself without revealing who he is?

🗨️ oh this one is so good! It’s amazing! The concept and plot is soo funny! I would be scared if this happened to me 😂

⭐You Set My Heart on Fire: pt1 and pt2 (series; completed) @hayjeon [21k] // knj x f.reader // one night stand, s2l, workplace!au, fireman!Namjoon + paramedic!reader // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 as a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

🗨️ holy shit this is amazing 💖 Namjoon as a firefighter? So fucking hot 🔥 oc as a surgeon turned paramedic ✨ and all the action, the tension, the friends with the whole crew and all the guys??? 🥹 Fuck. This one is amazing, another favorite! 

⭐Show Me How @imaginationofacrazyfangirl [3.9k] // knj x f.reader // tinder!au, virgin!au // 🥵

📝 you swiped right on a nerd, instead you got a Greek God. Or tired of your virginity, you decide to throw caution to the wind and find a hookup on tinder.

🗨️ omg this is really amazing! I’m going to warn you that it ends on a cliffhanger and there’s no other part to it, but it’s so amazing and it’s worth a read even though you’ll 100% be left wanting more 🥹😂 Their chemistry is so off the charts and the foreplay is so good 👏🏾

⭐Real Magic @here2bbtstrash [16.7k] // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, workplace!au, single dad!Namjoon // 🥵🥰

📝 the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

🗨️ omg this was just so fucking amazing 🥰 I love everything about it and the plot was so fluffy 🥺 Namjoon was just so fluffy and I love his kid ✨ Such a sweet holiday fic, and even if it isn’t read around Christmas time it will bring a smile to your face. It’s truly amazing 💯💜

⭐Sweet Company @remedyx [4.4k]  // knj x f.reader // coffee shop!au, christmas!au, s2l // 🥰

📝 no one should ever have to spend the holidays alone. Coffee makes for better conversation than eggnog anyway.

🗨️ ih this was so cute and fluffy with a sprinkle of angst. I really loved the length that Namjoon went through for oc and it was such a sweet gesture 🥹 It’s completely SFW!!!

⭐Lost & Found @l0mljeonjungkook [9.6k]  // knj x f.reader // single mom!reader, bf2l // 🥰🥵

📝 eight years beside him were nothing but a roller coaster ride. Being a single mother wasn't easy, but your best friend, Kim Namjoon made your way smooth. You never knew you felt something for him until you read his diary, which you weren't supposed to read ever. What will you do, if not only you but Hyeon, your baby, and your best friend Namjoon, wants the same, what you desired for so long?

🗨️ this was cute 🥹

⭐All Mine @cui-nisi [3.8k] // ksj x f.reader // college!au, fwb, e2l // 🥵

📝 with Jin being the student body president, you have to keep your purely sexual relationship on the DL, but what happens when it’s no longer just sexual?

🗨️ oh I really liked this one! The tension and energy between oc and Seokjin uffff 🔥

⭐Textbook Love @helenazbmrskai [11.6k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, writer!reader, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 loving your best friend’s brother is forbidden so what is even more forbidden you might ask. It’s writing smut about him. Can you still remain friends after he discovers your secrets?

🗨️ iiihhh, it was so good! ✨🥵

⭐Small Tuna Fish @floralseokjin [17.1k] // ksj x f.reader // college!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Kim Seokjin is a really nice guy. (Not to be confused with a ‘Nice Guy’). Too nice for someone like you, you’re sure. Which is why you’ve been attempting to ignore what’s going on between you. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with you. He couldn’t possibly like you. Could he? It the end, it takes one charity car wash event and one – or two, depending on how dirty your mind is – soakings to make things very clear. 

🗨️ damn, this was so funny, sweet and sexy at the same time ✨💯 loved the plot, the car wash–the wetness?? Omg. Everything was so fucking perfect 💖

⭐Dream Come True @sugaurora [16.8k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

🗨️ shit I’m in love with this 🤧 It’s so fucking amazing, beautiful, sweet and fluffy. I lived it so much 💖 💯

⭐With You @yoonpobs [22.1k] // ksj x f.reader // marriage!au, divorce!au, childhood friends2lovers // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 marrying your childhood best friend was not the love story that most painted it to be. you knew that better than anyone else.

🗨️ I really adore stories where the characters undergo emotional development 🥹 and these… They grow so much, and they even have supportive friends and family 🤧 Jin was a bit of a douche yes but he learned from his mistakes (hopefully keeps at it) and I really loved everything in it 🤧✨ I also loved that Jin suggested couples therapy, because I think that would be a big assert for them to achieve a healthier marriage 🥹 and when he asked oc on a date, and she went “but were married?” 🤭 also, I really think that going on dates while married is a really good way to keep the marriage alive too 🥰💜 I really loved it 💯

⭐Warm This Winter @jamaisjoons [51.6k] // ksj x f.reader (ft. ex!jjk) // one night stand, s2l, exes (jjk), christmas!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 spending the winter vacation with an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend was not something anyone would ever consider doing. spending the winter vacation with both an ex-boyfriend, his new girlfriend, and the one night stand you’d used to try to get over him, well that was a whole other situation that anyone sane would have fled from. and yet, here you are. caught between your best friend (and consequently your ex-boyfriend), and the very same man who you’d fallen into bed with after a night of wallowing in self pity. all while stuck in the picturesquely beautiful - and cruelly romantic - austrian alps. well. at least you can say you had an interesting christmas.

🗨️ PERFECTION 💯 This was so fucking incredible, I don’t know where to begin… I love Jin in this, he’s so fucking funny charming, sweet, kind and witty. He’s so him. The dynamic between all of the characters was amazing, and the tension and unresolved feelings between oc and Jungkook was so fucking good! I loved all the jealousy too, and then the fading of the jealousy. When things shifted for oc, how Seokjin helped her, and in that, she fell for him 🤧 Such a lovely Christmas story! There’s a lot of angst in it, yes, and tension, dear god, the tension is so good 😭 there humor, happiness, live and friendship. And missed chances, living with consequences 🥹✨ IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ IT BEFORE, DO IT NOW, AND IF YOU HAVE, READ IT AGAIN 💖

⭐The Devil Wears Valentino @orchidyoonkook [10.4k] // myg x f.reader // devil!Yoongi, “friends” to lovers, spooky!au // 🥵🥰🌩️👻🪄

📝 having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way. And obnoxiously flirty.

🗨️ there is just so much in this one, and it’s so fucking amazing!!!! There’s so much lore, and brilliant storytelling and the writing was just so fucking suberb ✨ This is hands down one of the best stories I’ve ever read, and I’m so happy I did and I’ll revisit this story again sometime, because, fuck, it was just soo fucking good!!! 😭 I think this will be a perfect read at least once a year, preferably around Halloween— and then also on Yoongi’s birthday, because 🥵 Really, you should read this anything, multiple times! This has really become one of my personal favorites 💎

⭐By the Time I’ve Figured Out What it’s Worth @ugh-yoongi [20k] // myg x f.reader // musician!Yoongi, est. relationship, marriage!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 you used to find comfort in it—listening to those old songs. the shy sounds of falling in love, the tinkling of a ring in a dish, the inevitable crash and burn. all those songs aren’t so comforting anymore, when you’d do anything to keep him and yoongi’s got one foot out the door.

🗨️ this was so heartbreakingly good, I don’t know where to begin!? It’s so raw and real, and this is very special to me, because I relate to the plot a lot. It really describes some struggles of marriage and relationships so well, how they handle the tough times! It was such a good read! Is it angsty? Yeah. Did I cry? Yeah. It was just perfection. I was really moved by this. So relatable, raw and realistic. So emotional. So beautiful 🤧💖

⭐The Seventh Muse @wwilloww [6.7k] // myg x f.reader // f2l, librarian!au // 🥵🥰

📝 as a writer, your favorite place in the world is the library. But you’re quickly coming to realize that it might not be the books that keep drawing you back, but the handsome, smart librarian who always knows exactly what you need.

🗨️ Cute and I really like it 💖

⭐Too High @ysljoon [1.7k] // myg x f.reader x fwb!Hoseok // toxic relationships, ex!Yoongi// 🌩️

📝 you haven't moved on from your ex, can someone else pick up the pieces for you or are you going to keep yourself in the cycle of the failed relationship?

🗨️ Oh this was bittersweet 🥺 going back to a guy who hurt you (I’m guessing emotionally), but he’s your home and comfort 🥺 I can see why OC’s toxic in her behavior, and I feel sad for everyone involved 🤧 The story is really good and it’s very emotional 💖

⭐Three Tangerines (series; ongoing) @kithtaehyung [n/a] // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ 3tan is back on the list!!! 🥰 In case you haven’t read the new drabble of 3tan717 ‘Bet Wrong’ please go do it now, it’s so fucking good, sweet and dirty ✨

⭐Swing Life Away @aphrodijin [5.2k] // myg x f.reader // marriage!au, pregnancy!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.

🗨️ This was so fucking cute and sweet!! Omg I loved it so much 😭💯💜

⭐Minted (series; ongoing) @/kithtaehyung [9.4k] // myg x f.reader // haegeum!au, gang!au, street king!Yoongi, street cart vendor!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous.

🗨️ Another amazing story from Ryen! This Yoongi is dark and so so interesting. There’s a lot of suspense, tension and angst, but it’s so fucking good! It’s fast paced, and it’s a slow burn at the same time— don’t ask me how Ryen does that, but it’s perfect! 👏💖

⭐Not Interested @sehunpeachy [20k] // jhs x f.reader // e2l, college!au, swim team!au // 🥵🥰🌩️😂

📝 nobody has ever succeeded at swooping you off your feet. that is until you become coach assistant for your college’s swim team and maybe then, you learn everybody deserves a chance at love.

🗨️ wow, wow, wow. Enemies to lovers? 🥵 The tension between them was so fucking good, and the fact that it was a swim team??? Ehm hello? It was so wet, juicy and perfect!!! I loved everything in it (it was also witty and funny!) ✨💯

⭐After Hours @yminie [5.3k] // jhs x f.reader // retail!au, workplace!au, manager!hoseok // 🥵

📝 it’s no secret your manager is very, very good looking. So what can be expected of you when you spend one too many nights locked up on your own with him?

🗨️ manager Hoseok? I would not be able to function at work 🥵 it was so hooooot ✨

⭐Stop Being so Cute @thatmultifandomhoe [3.4k] // jhs x f.reader // coffee shop!au, s2l // 🥰

📝 intentionally left blank by the author.

🗨️ this was so cute 🥹💖

⭐Gone Wild @johobi [6.5k] // jhs x f.reader // bf2l, fwb, roommate!au // 🥵

📝 Hoseok consumes porn like he does Cheetos: in unhealthily large amounts. He’s seen, and jacked off to, most things imaginable. But there are those photos that always draw him back… 

🗨️ fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was so amazing ✨💯 The tension?? So high and hot! The smut? I don’t know where to begin?? 🥵

⭐Me & You @/jamaisjoons [6.5k]  // jhs x f.reader // bf2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 your relationship with your best friend has always been strange - especially since you started as friends with benefits. 

🗨️ this was so fucking hot I’m going KAVSVDBAKAVFK 🤧

⭐Fake Love @aquaminwrites [16.2k] // jhs x f.reader // fake dating!au, christmas!au, e2l // 🥵

📝 every year, your family spends the holidays at your parents’ cottage in the country. Freshly single and not wanting to be picked apart by your family for being alone, you decide to recruit one of your friends to pretend to be your boyfriend. The only available volunteer? Your brother Namjoon’s roommate, Hoseok. Only problem? He absolutely hates your guts. 

🗨️ I just love Christmas stories, and then you add a fake relationship, only one bed and enemies and brother’s best friend??? Hello. It was awesome, thank you very much ✨ I really loved it 💖 so, so good! 💯

⭐Potent Pink (series; discontinued) @dntaewithluv [6.9k]  // pjm x f.reader // neighbor!au, fuckboy!au // 🥰🌩️😂

📝 the first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

🗨️ it was so good! And I feel like I want to know so much more about why Jungkook doesn’t like Jimin, why he’s saying not to invite him into OC’s life. It was such a good prologue! 🥹 Sadly it hasn’t been updated, so I’ll make this as a discontinued series… But I still think it’s worth a read because both the writing and the story was so good 💜✨

⭐Mismatched Pages: pt1 and pt2 (series; discontinued) @knjoodles [1.2k + 4.2k]  // pjm x f.reader // university!au, writer!au // 🥰🌩️

📝 you love writing. it’s your passion, it’s what you dream to do forever. up until you find out the guy you really like also happens to be the guy who’s stealing your ideas. then it sucks.

🗨️ this was really cute 🥹 it hasn’t been updated after chapter two, so I assume that it’s discontinued. I really like the plot though!!! 💜

⭐Blooming Days @bluekyun [15.3k] // pjm x f.reader // university!au, bf2l, pregnancy!au // 🥰🌩️🥵😂

📝 a typical night for you begins at the library in your favorite chair underneath the lamp in the corner, only to be picked up at 3am by your best friend, Jimin. Despite having slept over in his room several times before, this certain night in Sigma house leads to far more than you ever imagined. But what is to come of your friendship once you reveal those two little lines that will change your lives forever?

🗨️ ahhhh this was so cute, lovely, fluffy and funny! It was also sprinkled with a bit of angst that made me tear up and scared for a moment 🥺 but the ending was happy 🥰 I really loved it 💖💯

⭐Tonight @pjmparadise [6.5k] // pjm x f.reader // idol!au, s2l // 🥰🌩️

📝 during a visit to New York, Jimin stops in front of a bar in passing and takes notice of you inside; lonely, gloomy, and so beautiful. He’s immediately drawn to you and can’t shake the image of you. He returns later that night, hoping he can still meet you. But will you feel the same way?

🗨️ this was cute 🥹 And for some reason, this felt very “who” coded 🥹 really fluffy but it’s a bit bittersweet, but hopeful ending! I really loved it 💖

⭐Never Falling + Forever Falling + Free Falling @yoonia [21k + 30.5k + 22k] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, singer!Jimin, non-idol!au, workplace!au, assistant!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 for Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

🗨️ this has been on my trl for forever, and then, it was only a one-shot, so color me pleased and pleasantly surprised to find out that this is now a freaking trilogy 🤯✨ I loved everything in it, and it’s so fucking amazing— if you have not already read it, you are certainly missing out! This is definitely one of my all time favorites 💎

⭐Eldorado @smoochkooks [38k] // pjm x f.reader // gold diggers!au, e2l, slowburn, adventure!au // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 not all that glitters is gold but you, qualified gold digger, carrying on your back immense experience acquired all around the globe, came to the city of el paso del conte with one goal in your mind: to hit the jackpot of the eldorado of Texas. and nothing, no tragedies and adversities will stop you from pursuing it. but in every fairytale-like, too-good-to-be-true story, there’s a catch. this time, it comes in the name of park jimin, annoyingly handsome archeologist, your sworn enemy and biggest rival. 

🗨️ this has been on my trl list for some many fucking years 😭 well, I finally got to read it! And it was amazing, it was so fucking funny! Filled with witty banter, jokes and stereotypical jokes 😂 World building was so good too! And the smut? Fire 🥵 I really loved it 💖💯

⭐Backseat Serenade @jungkxook [10.7k]  // kth x f.reader // est. relationship, band!au, brother’s best friend, punk!Taehyung // 🥵

📝 falling in love and having weekly sex with kim taehyung is wrong for a number of reasons — and, no, that’s not including the whole other issue that he’s also your brother’s best friend

🗨️ This was so fucking amazing 🥵💜✨

⭐Any Way You Want It @noteguk [6.6k] // kth x f.reader // childhood bf to lovers // 🥵🥰

📝 in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

🗨️ fuck this was so cute, and fuck the smut was so hot 🥵✨💯

⭐Supernova @whatifyoulivelikethat [n/a] // kth x f.reader // bf2l // 🥵😂

📝 Kim Taehyung is your best friend. Considering him as anything more was asking for a collapsed relationship. You two were just two points in the sky, side by side, always shining together. Stars aren’t meant to collide, right? 

🗨️ ØANFBGÆSB. Yep. Speechless. It was so hot! Amazing! And funny too ✨💜

⭐Rent-a-BoyfriendTM + drabble @jimlingss [12k] // kth x f.reader // s2l, fake dating!au // 😂🥰

📝 left intentionally blank by the author.

🗨️ fuck this was so freaking cute and fluffy with a small sprinkle of angst. Perfection 👏🏾 🥰💯

⭐The Assistant: pt1 and pt2 (series; completed) @lavienjin [3.8k]  // kth x f.reader // workplace!au, assistant!Taehyung, boss!reader // 🥵🌩️

📝 Kim Taehyung is your assistant and moonlights as a masseuse in the evening. When you came to the office the morning after a bad date, all you wanted is his hands all over your body.

🗨️ really liked this one ✨💜

⭐Lovestruck @seokstrivia [9k]  // kth x f.reader // jock!au, s2l, slowburn // 🥵🥰

📝 it was love at first sight, however, what you had imagined was very different from real life. In other words, Kim Taehyung didn’t know you existed.

🗨️ cute, cute, cute 🥰

⭐Chasing Cars (series; completed) @oddinary4bts [218.5k] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, forbidden love!au, college!au, slice of life!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

🗨️ the series are completed! I still need to read the last chapter, but it's so fucking good 💜 If you haven't read this one yet, you really should, and remember to read all the drabbles from JK's pov for each chapter ✨

⭐Bottle Up Old Love @wintaerbaer [4.6k] // jjk x f.reader // exes to lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

🗨️ aaaaaaah this was so good! The smut, the plot (JK is protective and I love it), I really loved everything about this ✨💯

⭐Hold Me Close + Hold Me Closer @ahundredtimesover [22.6k] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when Jimin hits a crisis, he enlists the help of his older sister - you - and his best friend, Jungkook, to put the pieces back again. That proves to be difficult when 1) Jimin’s a brat and a certified pain in the ass, and 2) Jungkook has grown and suddenly, you can’t keep your eyes off him.

🗨️ omg this was so fucking amazing 😭✨ The characters are amazing in this, there’s cute backstory, details and the sibling bond is top tier, and the chemistry between oc and Jungkook is so fucking good! The tension is perfect and I love the slow burn 🥰 I feel this was also a bit on the existential side, which I really love. Like the dialogue had me thinking about my own life! I love when that happens! And it was so fun reading about siblings, and I’m missing my own baby sister right now. Anyway, it was exceptionally good! Amazing! 💯 And there’s a mention of Jungkook’s glazed potato incident you can’t miss! It was so fun (both this and the run episode 😂). Can’t recommend this one enough!!

⭐Right Here @namluve [13k]  // jjk x f.reader // 90’s!au, high school!au, fwb to lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 you had always been a part of the plastics and he was born on the wrong side of town. what happens when your worlds collide, and you realize that he is the only one in your life that’s not fake? 

🗨️ omg this was so heartbreakingly sad 😭😭😭😭 It was beautiful, and I loved it, don’t get me wrong, but I’m so sad 😭 that ending 🤧

⭐(Un)welcomed Addition @shuadotcom [9k]  // jjk x f.reader // neighbors!au, fuckboy!au // 🌩️🥰

📝 after a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind…unless your feelings get in the way of course.

🗨️ it was funny and cute! I really liked it and there is a plot twist in there that I won’t spoil! ✨

⭐Jump Then Fall (Into You): pt1 + pt2 + pt3 (one-shot; completed) @writtenwhalien [52k] // jjk x f.reader // bf2l, cruise!au, fake dating!au // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex��s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

🗨️ this story is so fucking good! I love everything in it, and the characters are so good and detailed (even the minor characters!!!). This is totally a new all time favorite of mine 🌟

⭐Dragonheart (ongoing series) @captain-joongz [22.1k+]  // ot7 x f.reader // dragon rider!au, high fantasy!au, e2l // 🥵🌩️🥰😂

📝 the Gong-li Empire has been on the peak of its power for a little over a millenium, and there was a very simple reason for that - dragonkind. When the first emperor of the Li Dynasty struck a deal with a witch that would allow him to bind dragons to the crown and force them into obedience, it was the beginning of its reign of terror and the end of freedom for creatures as old as nature itself. Now, a woman hoping to change everything enters the ranks of the elite dragon rider unit among the imperial army and meets seven men that not only change her life, but help her change the fate of the whole world.

🗨️ this is so fucking amazing; there’s a lot of lore to dig into, the characters are good and funny. The storytelling is so good too! I can’t wait to read more of this one ✨ If you love fantasy and dragons, I’m sure you’ll love this one 💜

⭐End of the World: a Flickering Hope + Drabble + Epilogue  [4k + 1.2k + 0.9k]  // myg x f.reader // s2l, apocalypse!au // 🥵🥰😂🌩️👻

📝 your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise? 

⭐Whalien52 [10.6k]  // pjm x f.reader // s2l, dystopian!au // 🌩️🥵👻

📝 you’ve been working for the New World Order as an assassin for years, guarding secrets without batting an eye or asking questions. But when a striking pink haired man shows up at the headquarters stealing information, he makes you question everything. With all of humanity at stake, what will you do? 

⭐When It Sinks In [13.1k]  // ksj x f.reader // est. relationship, mermaid!au, amnesia romance // 🥵🪄🥰🌩️

📝 life as a mermaid is wonderful, especially when your merman boyfriend, Seokjin, treats you just right. But you’re beginning to recall memories that you don’t think are yours from life on land— from a past life maybe? When you do realize that the memories are in fact your own, the world comes tumbling down around you, questioning your very existence. Are you even a real mermaid?

Thank you so much for reading my rec list, I hope you’ll reblog it to make it reach more people! There’s some insanely good reads on here ✨

If you want more, you’re more than welcome to follow me! I do monthly rec lists and sometimes I post my own writing too (only bangtan). 

Love you and borahae 💜