#like i /did/ say this exact scenario weeks ago w/o actually knowing this is literally the backstory for warden rook

[radiaking]

i will probably add more details to the background but coop just being a warden rook is like. pretty fucking spot on for him tbh. not seeing eye to eye w/nobles and saying fuck off to those w/connections to them and those willing to let an entire village be sacrificed is just. very, very him.

[kookitykook]

Seven Soulmarks: Jungkook (”Loser.”)

~genre: soulmate au, fluff, some angst, sfw

~word count: 6.1k 

~pairing: jungkook x reader

~warnings: descriptions of bullying (nothing violent), family member death mention, a wild jackson wang appears (i needed a brother okay), listen it sounds intense but this is one of my favs i’ve written 

~summary: At the exact moment of your twentieth birthday, the first words your soulmate will ever say to you appear in black ink on the inside of your left wrist. Jeon Jungkook is devastated when his wrist reads one word: “Loser.”

See how the other boys meet their soulmates (all interconnected) Taehyung -- Jimin -- Namjoon -- Hoseok -- Yoongi -- Jin

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeon Jungkook was six years old the first time someone called him a loser. 

It had been during a spelling bee. It was only the first grade, so the words had been simple things like “park,” “tall,” “flower,” or “here.”

In Jungkook’s case, the first word he was given by his teacher had been “soul.”

“S - O - W - L.”

The other students had immediately burst out laughing. Jungkook could feel his ears turning red as he looked at all of their faces, their laughter becoming crueler with each second of his confusion. 

“Oh I’m so sorry Jungkook,” his teacher had said. “Soul is actually spelled S - O - U - L. I’m afraid you’ve lost this time around, you can go sit in your seat.”

“Haha, Jungkook is the first one out!” One of the boys had shouted. Jungkook whipped his head over to look at him, only to be met with the bully’s gap-toothed smirk and a greasy finger pointed in his direction. “Loser!”

The word struck something deep in Jungkook’s chest, a chord that he never wanted to be played. 

How were they being so mean? The other kids in his class were laughing along with the bully, despite their teacher trying to calm him down. Jungkook didn’t understand … He was fine with losing the spelling bee, but now with all of his classmates calling him that word — loser — he felt smaller than ever, and he was a small child to begin with. 

His mother had always told him she loved his quiet, sensitive heart.

But Jungkook’s heart didn’t seem to love him back that day. 

And the tears rolling down his puffy cheeks only cemented the taunting nickname for the rest of his school years. 

***

“What’s up, loser?” 

“Nice jacket, loser.”

“Hey loser, can I copy your notes?”

These kinds of off-handed remarks were part of Jungkook’s daily school routine from that fateful day of the spelling bee up until high school. As much as Jungkook begged his family to let him switch schools as a child, it just wasn’t possible for them because of his father’s job.

Eventually, he stopped asking and just accepted his fate. 

It didn’t mean the name-calling ever hurt any less. 

Jungkook knew that he was sensitive, and he tried to grow thicker skin, he really did. But he also didn’t really want to change. He liked who he was, he just didn’t understand why nobody else did. 

“Hey loser!” 

Jungkook sighed, dropped his head to his chest at the unfortunately familiar voice of that same bully who coined his nickname after the spelling bee in the first grade. 

“Oh come on loser, don’t be like that,” the bully said with a cruel laugh, leaning against Jungkook’s locker. “We graduate tomorrow! Lose the long face for once!” 

I only have a long face because you treat me like shit, Jungkook thought to himself. But of course he didn’t say it out loud. 

People had been mean to him for the past eleven years, but he never could bring himself to be mean back. He knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel and eventually no one would call him ‘loser.’ So he just had to survive and be kind until he got to that place. 

“Graduation, yeah,” Jungkook said with a nod and a brief glance at the bully. “Can’t wait.”

“That’s the spirit!” the bully shouted, hitting Jungkook in the shoulder hard enough to push him into the door of his locker with a wince. “Last day, loser! Woo!”

Jungkook couldn’t help but wince again as the bully shouted right in his ear and then gave him a noogie before striding off down the hallway to possibly terrorize someone else.

“Last day,” he whispered to himself, closing his high school locker for the last time. “It can only get better from here.”

***

And it did. College was the best thing that could have ever happened to Jungkook. He moved to another city, went to a school where none of his high school classmates were attending, and was finally able to start over. 

He didn’t change anything about himself, but was finally in an environment where he could truly be himself without fear. It was life-changing. 

Confidence sprouted in him like a flower in bloom, and Jungkook found himself making friends, laughing without abandon, pursuing his interests with people that thought like him. 

His inward confidence rippled to his outward appearance as well, and his closest friends were two guys that he had met at the gym when he was just a freshman. Jin and Namjoon were both seniors, but they welcomed him into their friend circle without any hesitation. And when Jin heard that Jungkook enjoyed dancing, he connected him to Hoseok, who was a junior and captain of the dance team, and just like that the four of them were thick as thieves. 

This was Jungkook’s light at the end of the tunnel. Having friends who loved and supported him and got his weird sense of humor. 

And not once had any of them called him a loser. 

Now junior year was about to start and Jungkook had just moved out of the dorms into an apartment with Hoseok. Jin and Namjoon had both gotten their own apartments in the last year or so since they were making good money, but he and Hoseok were still typical broke college students (well, Hoseok was graduated, but was living like a broke college student while he saved up to open his own dance studio).

“Dude, did you hear about that new record shop that’s supposed to open up just down the street?” 

Jungkook looked up from his phone as Hoseok spoke, his friend sorting through one of the boxes he had yet to unpack even though they’d moved in two weeks ago. 

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, I went by the other day to see if the space would be good for the studio, but it had just been bought. The owner’s name is Yoongi, super cool dude. He and his soulmate and some other girl were signing. Don’t know when it’ll open, but they bought the space.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Jungkook murmured even though he wasn’t really paying attention, still looking at his phone.

Hoseok scoffed, propping his elbows up on the side of the box and looking at his friend with an eyebrow cocked. “You’re not even listening to me. I need attention, Jungkookie, and you’re not giving it to me.”

Jungkook huffed, looking at Hoseok only to snort when he saw his friend pouting dramatically. 

“Sorry. It’s just … my mark is about to appear.”

“Wait, what?!” Hoseok screamed, making Jungkook wince. “What the hell, dude?! I thought your birthday was tomorrow!” He grabbed his own phone, looking at the date and groaning. “Man, I’m so sorry. I got the dates mixed up, if I had known I would have—” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jungkook reassured him. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal!” Hoseok’s shrieking was going to be a topic of conversation with their neighbors for sure. “It’s your soulmark year! What time will it show up?”

“My mom said I was born at 10:05.”

“Damn, you’ve only got … one minute! How do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook shrugged, pulling at the loose threads at the end of his sweatshirt. His hair dipped down over his forehead, he would have to go to Jimin soon to get a haircut. “It feels kind of weird. That I have a soulmate out there at all.”

“Yeah, it’s trippy,” Hoseok agreed, looking down at his own wrist. “I can’t wait to meet mine though. She sounds feisty.”

Jungkook chuckled at that. He had been there when Hoseok’s mark had appeared. They’d been with Jin and Namjoon, the former laughing until he literally peed himself when Hoseok’s mark showed up and said, ‘Can you even breathe in those pants?’

“It’s just … until I met you and the guys, I never felt like I belonged anywhere. No one understood me. And to know that there’s a girl out there — I think it’s gonna be a girl anyway — a girl that’s just going to get me, it’s … it’s crazy. Aish, I’m probably overthinking it.”

“No man, this is normal,” Hoseok reassured him, reaching over and nudging him fondly. “Your soulmate is going to love you. And not just because, you know, the universe designed them to and all that, but because you’re great!”

“Thanks, hyung.”

Just then the timer on Jungkook’s phone went off. The two boys both froze, Jungkook turning over his wrist so that he and Hoseok could both look.

Nothing showed up. 

“You sure you got the time right?”

“Yes I’m sure,” Jungkook snapped, but it didn’t hold any real bite. “Just give it a minute.”

“Okay, okay.”

They watched in silence, Jungkook worrying at his bottom lip. What if nothing showed up? What if he didn’t have a soulmate? What if he’d already met his soulmate. That was a nightmare scenario waiting to happen. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, the words appeared gray and were the next words your soulmate would say to you. 

He hoped it was someone new. 

“Look!” 

Jungkook jumped at the sound of Hoseok’s voice, blinking his eyes back into focus. Sure enough, black ink was slowly appearing on the inside of his left wrist. 

His heart started to beat faster, and he could feel himself grinning. This was it, this was the moment he hadn’t ever really dared to dream about. His perfect match, the person who was made up of the same star stuff as him, his literally soulmate’s first words to him was going to be … 

‘Loser.’

Jungkook had never been skydiving before, but he had read that the very first moment you jump out of the plane, there’s a split second where your heart lurches into your chest and you just feel this overwhelming fear and wrongness. 

He had that feeling right then. But it didn’t go away after one second. 

“But … I …”

For the first time since Jungkook had met Hoseok, his friend was speechless. 

“I don’t understand.”

He could feel tears rolling down his cheeks, but he couldn’t bring himself to wipe them away. This couldn’t be happening. 

The words were in black ink, which meant he hadn’t met the person before, and yet his soulmate’s first word to him was going to be the word he hated most in the world? The name his classmates taunted him with for eleven years?

Jungkook was a kind soul. People had told him that his whole life, even before he started to believe it himself. 

So how was his soulmate going to be … so cruel?

“Kookie,” Hoseok started, his voice hoarse. He and Jin and Namjoon all knew what Jungkook’s early school days had been like, and the heaviness of that word on Jungkook’s heart. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

Jungkook said nothing, only continued to cry silently as his friend wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. 

It just didn’t make any sense. Jungkook hadn’t even met his soulmate yet and their cruelty was already striking the chord of pain that he thought he’d left behind. 

***

You were suspended for the first time in second grade. 

You didn’t even know second graders could get suspended. Years later you found out that you were actually your school’s first ever case of a second grade suspension and quite frankly, you wore the badge with pride. 

“Y/N, this behavior is simply unacceptable,” your principal said to you as you held an ice pack to your swollen cheek. “Your teacher tells me you’re the class leader and yet this is the example you’re setting.”

You rolled your eyes, which led to a wince when the tender, quickly bruised flesh pulled at the motion. 

“I’ve called your father, he should be here momentarily,” your principal continued. The look on his face was pissing you off. You didn’t even know what ‘pissed off’ meant, but you had heard the phrase on a TV show your older brother watched and it resonated with you for some reason. “I am very disappointed in you, Y/N. This school does not tolerate fighting.”

You huffed in indignation, wanting to stomp your foot but it didn’t reach the floor from the chair you sat in across from the principal’s desk.

“But he—”

“Hi, sorry I’m late.” 

At the sound of your father’s voice, you turned around in your seat so fast that one of your pigtails hit you in the face. 

“Oh, baby,” your father murmured. His gaze went straight to your bruised face, running around your chair to crouch in front of you and inspect the damage. “How did this happen?” he snapped at your principal. 

The principal scoffed at your father’s tone, clearly taking offense. 

“This happened because your daughter initiated a fight on the playground today, sir.”

You father looked back at you and blinked in confusion. “Sweetheart, is this true?”

You could feel tears prickling your eyes. The worst thing in the world was when your father was disappointed in you. 

You nodded, keeping your eyes downcast at your lap and swinging your feet. 

“Yeah, I hit him,” you mumbled. “But it was only because—”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” the principal cut you off. “This school has a strict no-violence policy, any excuses are—”

“Let her finish.”

Your father practically growled at the principal. The beady eyed administrator gulped, looking away from your father’s intense glare. 

You finally felt comfortable enough to meet your father’s eyes as he turned back to you. In the matter of a mere second, his gaze went from livid to kind as he looked down at you. 

Your father and brother were your whole world. Your mother had passed away giving birth to you and even though you tended to feel particularly empty whenever you saw the other girls being dropped off at school by their moms in the morning, your father and brother were everything to you. 

“Why did you hit another student, sweetheart?” your father asked softly. 

“Because he called Lana a slut!” you shouted instantly, your tiny voice not so tiny anymore. “And I don’t even know what slut means but he said it like a real big jerk and then he pulled on her shirt so hard she fell down on the ground! And instead of helping her up he just kicked sand on her! And I warned him Daddy, I swear I did! I told him, ‘if you say one more word then I’ll sock you right in the mouth.’ I heard Jackson say that one time but don’t tell him I told you that. But then he looked at me and said ‘one more word,’ and then he kicked sand on Lana and me both while I was helping her up. And I knew if I didn’t hit him then I would be a liar and I would be telling him it was okay to push girls down and call them mean names and it’s just not, Daddy, it’s not okay! And the teachers weren’t doing anything, they never do, so I did it, I socked him right in the mouth and then he hit me back and so I hit him again and then Teacher separated us and then I came here and that’s what happened.”

The office went deadly silent when you finished, save for your sniffles. You wiped at your face with the back of your hand quickly, unable to look at your father yet again. 

Then you heard a small chuckle and felt your chin being lifted up. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “You can look at me. I’m not mad.”

“You’re … you’re not?” 

“Not at all,” he assured you. “In fact I’m proud of you.”

The principal guffawed, but was instantly silenced by another glare from your father. 

“Do I think you should have hit the boy?” your father asked. “No. And we can work on learning some better options for when you see something. But Y/N, I will always — always be proud of you for standing up for what is right. Do you hear me?”

You sniffled, throwing yourself into your father’s arms. 

“I hear you, Daddy.”

***

Your father’s funeral was the day of your twentieth birthday.

For twenty years, you had known exactly where you stood in the world because you knew who you could always fall back on. 

And now he was gone and for the first time ever … you felt lost. 

Your brother Jackson gripped your hand tightly as the casket was lowered. He’d delivered a beautiful eulogy, and you knew that later you would feel terrible for putting all that responsibility on him, but in that moment … you were just numb. 

The snow falling around you wasn’t exactly helping. 

Jackson had tried to convince you to move the funeral so that it wouldn’t coincide with the day you received your soulmark, but you had refused. 

Anytime you had dreamed about when your mark would appear, the dream had always included your father being there with you. Now that he wouldn’t … what was the point in making it a big thing?

“Just a few more minutes,” Jackson said suddenly, startling you from where you were staring at the coffin slowly disappearing into the ground. 

“Huh?”

Your brother nodded down at your wrist. “Your mark. Just a few more minutes and it’ll show up.”

“Oh. Right.” 

“Y/N … I know this is hard, but—”

“Just don’t, Jackson,” you sighed. “I’m just … I’m tired. I’m so damn tired, I can’t make myself get happy about my mark. I feel like with him gone, I don’t even know who I am anymore, how the hell am I supposed to care who my soulmate is?”

“You know who you are.” When you snorted, Jackson grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you to face him. “Hey, listen to me. I know we’re both grieving and I know this sucks alright, I’m in pain, too.” His voice cracking on those words was enough to make you actually focus on him. “But you know who you are. So do I. And so did … so did Dad.”

You winced, looking away to where dirt was being pushed into the grave. Jackson grabbed you gently by the chin to make you look back at him. 

“You are strong, resilient, and you take no crap from anybody. I’ve never met anyone who stands up for what’s right the way you do, and sometimes that needs to mean you stand up to yourself when you get like this. You are who Dad raised you to be.”

“And who is that?”

“The same punk who socked a kid in the mouth on the playground for bullying your friend.”

Your laugh was a sad one, but it was there. Jackson smiled.

“You’re the same person who organized a protest to get the cafeteria to include gluten free pizza because one kid in your grade had celiac disease. You’re the person who organized a neighborhood wide clean up for the old lady down the street when her house got out of control because she couldn’t take care of it herself anymore. That’s who you are, Y/N. Kind and compassionate and yet mean as hell when you know someone is being a bully.”

You laughed out loud at that one, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. 

“There it is,” Jackson murmured. “I knew that smile was still in there somewhere.”

“How am I supposed to smile right now, Jax? I’m … we’re at our father’s funeral. He’s gone, how do I … how do we keep going?”

“By being who he raised us to be. You — a freedom fighter with a heart of gold. Me — incredibly handsome and charming and talented and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” you chuckled. “I just … I’m afraid I don’t know how to be that person without him.”

Jackson smiled softly, shaking his head as he pulled you in for a hug. 

“Yes you do, Y/N. Yes you do.”

You hugged him back tightly as you could, letting your brother push the broken pieces of your heart back into place. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed suddenly, pulling away. “My mark!”

“Oh what’s it say, what’s it say?” 

“It says …” you pulled back the black sleeve of your dress and turned your hand over to look at the inside of your left wrist. “‘This is not what I expected.’”

“Huh,” Jackson remarked as you furrowed your brow. “That’s a pretty good one.”

And even though your heart was heavy, there was still a flutter in the back of your heart. 

You had a soulmate out there somewhere. Your other half was out there.

Whoever he ends up being … you find yourself hoping he’s the kind of guy your father would love. 

***

ONE YEAR LATER 

It was a well known fact that Jungkook hated bars. They were impersonal, usually dirty, not exactly primed for dancing the way that clubs were, and he usually got hit on a lot which is flattering, sure, but also super uncomfortable for him. 

But of course Jin wanted to celebrate his birthday at the bar where he met his soulmate — who was now his fiancee. Not that anyone could miss the fact that Jin’s soulmate was now his fiancee considering he announced it to the world every five minutes. 

Not that Jungkook was jealous or anything.

No … not at all. 

“Jungkook!”

The younger boy jumped as Namjoon slapped his hand on his shoulder, spilling a few drops of his drink on the bar in the process. He looked up at his friend and smirked. Like always, Namjoon’s hair was immaculately coifed. 

“Looking good, hyung,” he remarked with a smirk. “Any nice girls comment on your hair tonight?”

“Not yet, but it’s still early.”

“You know I can see your roots starting to come in, you should probably go see Jimin soon. And — oh my gosh, is that … it looks like your part is uneven! Call the hair police stat!”

“Alright you little brat, keep making fun,” Namjoon said cooly. “I’m not the one with a mop on his head.”

“The ladies love this mop of hair, hyung.”

“And yet you always turn them down. Ack, get those doe eyes out of my face. Hoseok!”

“Joonie-ah!”

Even across the entire room, Hoseok’s voice made it sound like he was right beside them. Seconds later the slender, red-faced and slightly tipsy boy was bounding up to the bar. 

“Hello, boys,” he sing-songed, waving down the bartender and asking for another beer. “Where the hell did Jin even go? This is his birthday party and he’s missing all the fun.”

“Ah,” Namjoon remarked, throwing back a shot. “I do believe I saw he and his lovely fiancee sneaking away a few minutes ago.”

“Soulmates,” Hoseok muttered. “Can’t live with them, desperately want to be them.” He thanked the bartender smoothly and grabbed his new drink. “Come on boys, let’s go meet some ladies and hope they say those special words! And if not, well … we can get them to say something else equally enticing!”

“Ah, you guys go ahead,” Jungkook said as Hoseok started to drag him away. “I’m going to finish my drink and then head home.”

“What?” Hoseok shouted (honestly, it was like his default volume when he was tipsy).

“Jungkookie, it’s not even ten,” Namjoon said. 

“I know, but I have a paper to work on and if Jin-hyung isn’t even here then I really should get back and work on it.”

“Aw, Namjoon, look at our little boy all grown up and being a responsible student.”

“Stop that,” Jungkook snapped, but not without a fond smile as he shoved away Hoseok’s hands from gripping his cheeks and shaking them. “You guys go. Find a soulmate or … a person for the evening.”

“Eloquent, Kookie, truly. We’ll catch you later, alright?” Namjoon asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you on Saturday. Go ahead. And Hobi, don’t slam the door when you come in the apartment tonight, yeah?”

When Hoseok bounded away without an answer, Jungkook just rolled his eyes. Typical. It was a good thing he loved that guy already. 

Left to his own devices at the bar, Jungkook went back to his drink. He meant it when he said he had a paper to work on, but he paid good money from his very meager bank account for his drink, so he was damn well going to finish it.

It was kind of peaceful, sitting on his own at the bar and just having a drink. Getting lost in his thoughts, good ones of his friends and new dance choreo and a stupid pun Jin had told him last week. 

He only tensed up once when a woman in a green dress sat down a couple seats from him, fully expecting her to make a move on him, but then relaxing when she just ordered a drink for herself and didn’t pay him any attention at all. 

It was oddly serene. Until it wasn’t.

Jungkook was just one sip away from being finished with his drink when someone clasped his shoulder with an painfully iron tight grip. 

“Ouch, Namjoon, what the—”

Jungkook froze as he looked up to see someone he thought he’d left in another town, in a life long left behind. 

“Holy shit!” his childhood bully shouted, still as greasy faced and obnoxious as he’d been all through their school days, grinning with cruel delight. “I thought that was you! Damn loser, who would have thought I’d be seeing you here? I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me, huh?”

It was an odd feeling, to be thrown back into a past version of himself as Jungkook looked up at the person that had initiated a cycle of cruelty and misery for eleven years of his life. 

“I … I—”

“Haha, still stuttering, huh, loser?” The bully punched him in the shoulder and even though Jungkook had developed a fair amount of muscle mass since high school, it still hurt to be punched. “Damn loser, you been working out? Shit, you really bulked up! I wouldn’t have shit on you so much in high school if you looked like this! I mean, you really went from a dweeb to a good-looking dude! Good for you, loser!” 

“Uh, yeah,” Jungkook muttered, moving to stand from the stool. “Hey it’s uh, good to see you too man, but I gotta go.”

The bully just laughed and the familiar noise stirred a very real pain in Jungkook’s gut. 

“Still a loser, huh loser? I knew it was you when I saw you sitting at a bar and drinking by yourself! I guess you can bulk up and move away, but once a loser always a—”

“Hey tough guy.”

The bully looked up at the sound of your voice. Jungkook turned as well, hoping and praying that his eyes weren’t glassy. 

You stood up from your stool with a margarita in hand and daggers in your gaze as you stared at the colossal asshole trying to act macho.

“Hey sweets, I’m more than willing to chat with you once I finish catching up with my high school buddy here.” He clapped Jungkook on the shoulder once again, squeezing his meaty fingers into the fabric on his black shirt. 

“Yeah see I don’t know you,” you said, stepping up and smacking the inside of the bully’s elbow to make him let go of the unreasonably handsome, but quiet man that had been sitting beside you at the bar. “But I do know that ‘high school buddies’ typically don’t degrade one another and call each other names. So why don’t you buzz off and get your dick hard some other way instead of reliving your glory days of being the world’s biggest teenage douchebag.”

Jungkook’s mouth dropped, staring at you in shock. Not once, not once had anyone defended him in front of this guy. Until you. He didn’t even know you and yet you were standing up for him. 

The bully blinked in surprise, but then it only took a few seconds for his face to turn red with anger. 

“Listen here you bitch—”

“Watch it.”

No one was more surprised at Jungkook’s growled warning than Jungkook himself. You looked over your shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow and the slightest smirk before turning back to the asshole in question. 

“Call me or any other woman bitch ever again, and I’ll throw this drink all over your head, sock you in the mouth, and then get you permanently banned from the bar. Do you understand me or should I repeat myself slower?”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the bully snapped, puffing out his chest with held breath. 

“I think I’m someone that can spot a whiny ass bully from a mile away,” you remarked casually, not perturbed in the slightest. “So why don’t you just save all of us some trouble, and fuck off somewhere else.”

The bully looked over you at Jungkook, who was still staring at you shell-shocked. You continued to smile at the bully as if you were discussing the weather. 

“Kookie!” 

“Hey, hey, what’s going on here?” 

Hoseok and Namjoon appeared seemingly out of nowhere, the latter coming up to stand on the other side of Jungkook opposite of you. It was only then that you and Jungkook realized that most of the bar had gone silent and was watching the situation unfold. 

“Hey man,” Namjoon addressed the bully, lifting his chin. “Is there a problem here?”

The bully looked at the four of you standing side by side and straightened his shoulders, inhaling a shaky breath. “Oh I see, loser,” he addressed Jungkook. “You make it out of our little town, think you make it big, but you need a little posse to protect you. Still a loser through and through.”

“What the fuck did you just—”

“Hobi don’t,” Jungkook snapped, reaching behind Namjoon to grab Hoseok’s arm and pull him back. 

The bully laughed, raising his arms out to the side. “Like I said. You can’t even stand up for yourself, loser. You need these two pussies and your little bitch to—”

You threw your drink in the bully’s face, letting him splutter as you turned and placed the empty glass on the bar counter before rearing your arm back and punching him in the nose. 

The entire bar ‘ooo’ed as the bully hit the floor. 

You hissed, shaking out your hand as you looked over your shoulder to the bartender. 

“Jackson,” you said casually, flexing your fingers. “I’m calling in my monthly sister favor. This guy is permanently banned from the bar.”

“First of all,” Jackson replied, eyeing his groaning customer on the floor. “You already used your monthly sister favor when you needed gas last week. But because I’m a nice brother, consider this one an advance on next month’s.”

You grinned, turning back to where the bully was still rolling on the ground like an imbecile. 

“Alright, asshole, up and out. You’re banned, fuck off before I call the cops for trespassing since you’re officially banned. That’s right, out, out. Thank you, goodbye.”

The bully didn’t even spare Jungkook one last glance as he staggered to his feet and out the door. 

“Show’s over, people,” Jackson called out. “But tune in next week, we’ll probably have a rerun of some sort. Carry on!”

You stuck your tongue out at your brother, who just laughed and went back to serving drinks as the bar slowly moved back to normalcy after the scene you caused. Well … the scene you ended. 

You finally looked back to the three boys. 

Who were staring at you … slack-jawed. 

They were all really damn cute, one with sick looking hair, the other tan and glowing and red-faced (tipsy, clearly), and the one who had been bullied just … damn fine.

“I like your hair,” you remarked to the one with the platinum coif. 

His eyes went wide before sighing dramatically. The one on his other side promptly burst out laughing. “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, stalking off to get another drink. 

You looked to the one who was still laughing. “What did I say?”

“The wrong thing,” the sunshine one said, still laughing. You guessed it was a soulmark thing, but didn’t push it. “That was awesome by the way. Nice punch!”

You smirked, shrugging with no small amount of pride. “Thanks, I do kickboxing.”

“Hey, Jungkook likes boxing!” he shouted, grabbing his other friend and shoving him closer to you. You laughed at the other boy’s scared expression. He had yet to say a word to you. “I don’t know if kickboxing and boxing is the same or not, but … you should talk! I need another drink.”

“Tell the bartender it’s on me,” you said, earning yourself a double thumbs up and a high-five from the sunshine boy. That made you laugh, turning to the other boy to tell him you liked his friends, only to freeze when you saw the look on his face. 

He was staring at you like you were an ethereal being or something. Pure admiration. You weren’t ashamed to admit that if he hadn’t been so cute, it definitely would’ve been creepy. 

You swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. He was just about to open his mouth to speak first when you blurted out —

“Loser.”

The boy froze, his big (and wildly beautiful) brown eyes widening like saucers. 

“Like … really?” you continued. “That dude is practically a professional bully and the only name he called you was loser? Pfft, what a moron. Seriously, don’t dwell on him for a single second, okay? Not worth your time.” 

The boy was still silent, and his stare was really getting to you. 

“Would you just … say something, please?” you asked, swallowing and running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, it’s just that I … I can’t just stand by when I see stuff like that. And you looked really uncomfortable and kind of scared and I had to step in. I can’t—”

“This,” he finally spoke, his voice soft and smooth in all the right ways, “is not what I expected.”

Now it was your turn to stare. 

“W-What did you just say?” you asked. 

Your right hand subconsciously moved to grab your left wrist, and Jungkook tracked the movement with his eyes. A smile started to play on his lips, growing wider with each second as he lifted his own left hand.

On the inside of his wrist, right there in black ink, was a single word. 

‘Loser.’

“I … I …” 

You knew you were gaping like a fish, but you genuinely had no idea what to say. 

“I … I am such an asshole!”

Jungkook blinked at you in surprise. 

“Oh my gosh you’ve spent this whole time thinking your soulmate was just going to insult you when you met!” you exclaimed, hands on your head and eyes wild. “Why the hell did I even say that? I’m so insensitive, holy crap!”

Jungkook stared at you, his smile only widening and then he burst into laughter.

And not just any laughter. Oh no, Jungkook’s laughter was open and honest and completely real. He was the epitome of ‘ahahaha!’ and it was the best damn sound you had ever heard. 

And it was contagious. Soon enough you were giggling too, hands on your cheeks as your face reddened in both embarrassment and delight. 

“Kookie!” Hoseok shouted from the bar suddenly, causing the two of you to look over at where he, Namjoon, and Jackson were clearly chatting. “What the hell is so funny?”

You looked back to Jungkook, grinning. His heart skipped a beat, and so did yours. 

The pair of you looked back to the trio, left wrists held up like badges of honor.

“She called me a loser!”

“He said I wasn’t what he expected!”

The three boys were silent for just a split second. 

Jackson promptly screamed and announced free drinks, Hoseok started laughing so hard he literally fell off his chair and spilled his drink everywhere, and Namjoon dropped his head to the bar surface after grumbling, “Another one?”

You and Jungkook looked back to one another, both of you positively beaming. In a rare display of boldness, Jungkook reached out with his left hand and gently grasped yours, running his thumb over the mark there. He giggled when you shivered and you could have melted on the spot.

“Sorry you have to wear the word ‘loser’ on your wrist for the rest of your life,” you said softly, feeling parts of you turn to mush as he looked down at you with utter fondness.

“It’s okay,” he said instantly, smile brighter than any sunrise. “That word doesn’t bother me anymore.”