#suga x plus size reader

[candywife333]

King Squishy

Disclaimer/Triggers: Fic is in no way representative of Yoongi's personality or thoughts in real life. Crude language.

Note: Completed part 1 guys. Hope you like it!!! Not edited as usual (btw, when I say not edited- I mean I haven't edited it perfectly. I still edit to some degree as I write, but due to wanting to churn out the volume of fics I want to get out there, with my time constraints --I tend to not officially sit down and edit every piece extensively ). I plan to have one more part to finish the story.

[PART 1]

She stared at the screen, squinting her eyes, completely tired from the strain of focusing on the screen in front of her. King Squishy, his ugly blob Majesty, trudged over to her. She had been recruited by the planet, Xalaxia, to manage their secretarial works requiring communications with earth. Since she knew the Xalaxian dialect and English with fluency, she had been the perfect gal for the job.

Y/N wouldn't have minded working on the lush green planet with pink golden sunsets, if not for her treacherously annoying and strict boss. The king of the planet himself. King Yoongi. Or as she liked to refer to him as, the bane of her existence. He would always harp on her to finish the work quickly even when she was ahead of schedule. And he would unscrupulously watch over her every move ,as though she were committing a crime by working diligently on behalf of his stale, rank pumpernickel ass.

He wasn't fluent in English, so he relied on her a lot for even diplomatic efforts of his planet. Here he came, entering the room with an infuriated face, waddling his squishy amber, amorphous ass resembling jelly like a duck. All the people on this planet had two forms, one that resembled something more similar to humans--average heights reaching up to 6 feet and up. The other form most of them carried was that of a a normal human face on top of what could not be described in any other words other than a goopy blob that would shapeshift to form humongous tentacles. The black appendages would sometimes drip inky obsidian fluids as they walked, leaving what Y/N called , a "xalaxian trail".

Y/N tiredly drawled out as she typed a document without moving her eyes off the screen, "What service would you like to procure from me today your Majesty"?

Yoongi snarled as he threw a bunch of papers onto her desk, "Is this what you call a complete financial report of the trade embargo we have between Earth? It has a bunch of typos, even I would be able to tell!!!! Why are you so incompetent, you lazy woman"?

I bristled, alive with fury as I attempted to calm down, staring at the document he threw at me. I felt like laughing when I figured out what his problem was. "Ummm, Sir, you do know that these type of letters require more official language ,right? The spellings are all correct. Whatever you have marked in red ink is just the past tense of regular English verbs. We don't say ever say the word "thinked", we say "thought", to express past tense".

His entire face blanched as he started sputtering in a fury, "F-f-fix it then, you human imbecile"!

And he immediately scurried away, his prominent trail viscously dripping after him. I had to not choke on my own laughter, as I stared at a human blob try to run away from me. His magestically goopy form, was trying to get away, but the massive size of his tush was not letting him, making him look like he was twerking and wiggling his butt as he tried to abscond.

Xalaxians did not wear robes or any clothing for that matter in their blob-like forms, they only wore them when they were humanoid in shape.

Y/N sighed, the days on Xalaxia were becoming monotonous, as she felt encumbered with all the excess transmissions to be translated. She was leaving late nowadays from her work station, dropping down on her bed exhausted, instantaneously falling asleep. It had been exciting in the beginning, with all the cuisines, colorful people, and beautiful outdoor environment. But with the way she had been transferred from working with the kind council member Taehyung to becoming the king's secretary, it had been a less than pleasant transition, putting it very lightly.

She pondered with her hands holding up her chin, maybe she should apply for the yearly mating banquet. Humans were allowed to participate. It was quite simply put, a banquet where people found mates (permanent mates, not casual ones). Y/N had not participated in the last two years she had been on Xalaxia. But even she was feeling a bit lonely from time to time. Maybe a mate would help curb that. She wasn't getting any younger.

Xalaxians mated for life, and since their life span of 1000 years instantaneously conferred upon their partner once a mating bond was formed, it was a very big deal who your partner was. Y/N dreamily imagined finding a kind Xalaxian who would treat her right and give her children, something she had always wanted. They would live in a gorgeous garden estate and relax, sharing a marriage bed. She felt like blushing at the mere thought.

She typed up and submitted the application form on her bed. A tinkling sound came from her lap top indicating that the form had been submitted. Before Y/N could even process the happiness and possibility that would come of starting the search for a mate, she got a phone call.

As she picked up the call from an unknown number, she heard a screeching voice, "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME??? HOW COULD YOU SUBMIT A MATE FORM WITHOUT MY PERMISSION, WHEN YOU ARE MY SECRETARY? I FORBID YOU Y/N, I FORBID YOU FROM LOOKING FOR A MATE"!

Y/N's indignance peaked, who the hell did this king think he was? Forbidding her from finding a mate, something that was mandated by law as a privilege allowed to every resident of Xalaxia. Y/n calmly replied, "And I fail to see how that is my problem, you rank ass goop ball. Don't test me, sire. If you infringe upon my rights, I shall merely quit the job. What exactly is your problem anyway"?

He yodeled back, exasperated, "YOU. YOU. It's always fucking YOU". Y/N felt so irritated and frustrated at his vague proclamations. "And what do you even mean by that, Sire"?

He sobbed , clearly inebriated from drinking, as he would never show such expressions of emotion otherwise. "You wouldn't work for me anymore, if you found a mate".

Y/N sniped back, rather confused at his intent, "And how is that supposed to be my concern"?

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Y/N didn't understand his bloody problem. Always scolding her for no goddamn reason. His rotund, lardaceous, jiggly ass needed a reality check and quick.

The Royal Banquet Hall of Xalaxia was teeming with otherworldly flora in myriad shapes and sizes-bulbous fluorescent fuchsia tendrils winding across the delicate crystalline roof of the massive glass greenhouse where the banquet was taking place. The hall pulsed with an iridescent lacquer which changed hue every few minutes.

Floating orbs containing singular candles were suspended in clusters in the air casting flickering shadows of lavender and gold. At the far end of the massive hall, seated amidst a sea of other ministers was King young --shrouded in a fine fabric shimmering purple and gold, in his humanoid form for once. It was so he could negotiate with all the alien dignitaries who had come from various foreign planets. So they wouldn't be confused or intimidated by his voluptuous cakes. A clear hazard that came with the job.

He sat on his ever glowing fungal, slimy throne with a rigidity-- reminiscent of a street lamp. His posture screamed : I am pretending to not lose my shit at any given moment. Something Y/N was well accustomed to seeing.

And see she did.

She swept through the entrance of the hall, dressed in a frothy, whimsical pink fabric that shimmered- mimicking the luster of a nebula. The dress was woven with Xalaxian silk, infusing the dress with a mauve gradient at the hem of the gown--printed with gold inscriptions traditional to the tribal regions of the planet. Her attire hugged her perfectly, allowing her to glide into the room --leaving a deluge of scintillating particles in her wake.

Her lips were painted a brilliant berry color - mimicking drippleberries (plants native to the planet) and her hair was braided with the violet xalaa flowers that bloomed once in a year, on the night of the full moon on Xalaxia. They were rare flowers that bloomed and died , depending on the life form they came in contact with. The fact that they trusted Y/N enough to adorn her hair, sent out a clear message.

All in all, she was stunning and the current center of attention as other foreign dignitaries flocked towards her to get a glimpse. Her generous bosom spilled into the deep neck of the gown showed off her shimmering skin. She looked as though she had bathed herself in drippleberry juice--a concoction known for hydration which made the skin visibly glisten with a dewy confidence.

She was being swarmed , alien males with too many appendages , men with spiked tails trailing behind them. Males even goopier and uglier than Yoongi as well. A fog of pheromones flooding the atmosphere as countless people tried to catch her attention, make conversation with her, and even dare to lure her close enough---just enough to get a taste perhaps.

All things that enraged Young as he tried to maintain a smidgeon of his regal composure.

She walked into the hall like she owned it, like a rare precious treasure that was ready to be stolen by hungry eyes and hands. Hands that King Yoongi wouldn't let even remain in the same vicinity. He glared indignantly at all the happenings.

"Are you ok , your Highness"? A council member hesitantly uttered.

"I'm fine Phillips", Yoongi muttered. "Just internally combusting, nothing new".

As belligerent as he was , at all these aliens staring at his Y/N, he couldn't stop staring at her beauty .Her grace, her. He couldn't look away. He couldn't even think of anything other than her.

His inner conscience was rattling at him.

Her tits are glistening. Why are they so shiny? Control yourself, Yoongi. This is a political diplomatic event. You are a monarch, a leader, respected ....atleast till yesterday you were.

He slapped himself on the cheeks.

Get it together.

She turned, smiling at someone. And Yoongi almost growled in exasperation.

Nope. He thought he could handle it and he couldn't. I'm going to start an intergalactic war with the way this is going. She's mine. And I'm damn well keeping her. Someone control me before I convert to my blob form. I'M ABOUT TO SLITHER.

He was frothing at the mouth, about to snatch up and stab a prehensile tentacled bastard.

And he thought, things couldn't get worse right?

Well, they just fucking did.

Yoongi's globular eyes twitched with contempt as he saw the suave , tall, striking prominent emissary, Sir Kaelith of the Andorre Nebula talk and interact with his Y/N. The guy walked like he was floating.

Yoongi gritted his stubby little teeth, even damaging his gums in the process. He was about to draw blood. The dude's devastating bone structure and angular jaw line that could cut through Xalaxian steel intimidated Yoongi. What if she ran away with this smooth talking , assless bastard. What was Yoongi to do? Smile as the woman of his dreams married and had kids with this fool?

His eyes were glued to the two of them. The guy who wasn't him extended his hand to Y/N. And that is when Yoongi could literally feel the fumes pour out his ears, he was about to see red.

Y/N looked up at this guy sweetly , stepping into the alien emissary's arms as he fluidly ushered her into a lively dance , twirling her as he encircled her waist with his strong arms.

Across the room , Yoongi was shattering. His eyebrows twitched maniacally, his form started flickering , the flute of a wine glass he was tightly gripping cracked. If he didn't do something now , he would fly into a gelatinous rage.

And we all know that King Yoongi in his goopy form, could not be controlled. His chief secretary paled at the thought. The king had no point of return once he flew off the handle. Unhinged was one way to describe the king in his fury. Insane, mad, savage may be other accurate descriptors as well.

The cherry on top of the messed up sundae was when Y/N hugged the ambassador.

That's when King Yoongi's chief secretary pressed the red button on his wrist watch.

Well, at least they could say they tried to control the situation that was about to transpire.

[yoongle--boongle--pie]

Pechsträhne - Chapter 1

A/N: I can't even describe how excited and proud of myself I am to finally get this out on paper. My brain has been riddled with this story ever since I had a dream that inspired it. I can't wait to share this with y'all! I'm going to be figuring out how to make a masterlist tonight that I will keep updated with the main story, along with any extra goodies like playlists or Pinterest boards if anyone would be interested in any of that stuff. Please enjoy. Lots of love ~ Delyn <3

P.S: I moved accounts! So all further updates will be posted to @yoongleboonglepie! Much love

word count: ~13k

Chapter playlist-Youtube music

Chapter Playlist-Spotify

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You have been invited to celebrate with us! 

The Wörner Hotel and Estate is celebrating 150 years of providing excellent service to all of our guests, and we want you to be a part of it! Built in 1875 by German settlers Matthäus and Felizitas Wörner, it is a nature lover’s dream; nestled between the edge of Michaux State Forest and historic Gettysburg Pennsylvania. This luxury hotel is the perfect balance between historical and luxury. We have everything you may need from live entertainment, multi-room suites, a freshly updated swimming pool, 24-hour room service, daily activities or fitness classes, valet parking, onsite grocery, and more. And with over one hundred acres of gorgeous grounds to explore, you’ll never get bored! Well, what are you waiting for? There’s no greeting warmer than at The Wörner Hotel and Estate!

Y/n’s fingers fiddled with the gold embossed invitation absent-mindedly, her eyes finding it difficult to keep their attention on anything else other than the piece of paper that felt so heavy in her lap. She had fought herself incessantly about what to do with it since it had wedged itself haphazardly into her mail slot, a physical embodiment of what a thorn in her side it was. Its arrival shouldn't have caused as much emotional turmoil as it did. She should have expected it, she had told herself repeatedly in order to calm her nerves, which worked about as well as a sinner praying their way through a last-ditch effort to make it to heaven. And despite what this invitation may say, Wörner Hotel and Estate seemed like anything but heaven to her right now - Hell would be a more fitting name. Seeing the sketched out image of the hotel printed on the bottom shot her back into her childhood memories of sitting short and wide-eyed as she watched different guests all busy up the stairs to enjoy their vacation, or where the tours would disappear onto the different walking trails. Only turning her attention away when she realized they had not noticed her presence, to whatever toys she set up on the front veranda that day- usually animal figurines whose feet and faces had been gnawed off by the family dog, or severely mistreated Barbies.

She floated through all of her memories of growing up in the hotel with great resistance: Stampeding through the gardens with the staff children after cold elementary school days; Guests that just never seemed to leave; Her parents lavish parties in the ballroom; Phantom touches in the lobby; Swimming in the lake up at the state park on warm summer nights with her sisters and younger brother and pigging out on smores late into the evening.

Her younger sister’s death.

Ghostly figures in long hallways, reaching their hands out to grab her. Always watching.

Her friends. Her fight with her parents.

Everything she didn’t want to remember had been stamped with a wax seal and thrown back into her orbit against her will. She hasn’t spoken to her parents in four years as of this past Christmas, and her younger brother Roland has become increasingly difficult to keep on the phone for longer than 10 minutes before he loses interest in their conversations. Her elder sister Amelia, only three years older than y/n herself, has been radio silent since the night Y/N left the hotel and didn’t return. Their relationship was barely kept afloat by obligatory texts on holidays and birthdays. 

All this makes Y/n wonder why they ever thought she would go back and why they even sent this invitation to her? Who still even worked there?  And what in god's name took over her mind to have her bag packed with a rushed explanation to her two very confused roommates, and seated on the first Amtrak train from D.C back to Pennsylvania? Maybe it was the residual emptiness of missing her family from the past holiday season, or maybe it was a nagging feeling in her stomach that told her she needed to. 

The train slowed down as it reached some small station outside the border of Pennsylvania state lines that Y/N can’t be bothered to hear the name of. She glanced out the window to watch a few stragglers shuffle on and off of the train car in front of her thoughtlessly, their impatient and rushed steps of no real interest to her.

With it being mid morning on a weekday, she had just missed rush hour and consequently the train wasn’t as busy. This gave her space and time to think about what to text to her driver-whoever that is-which she hasn’t done yet and probably should. She only had less than an hour before she arrived at the Philadelphia station, and the drive from the hotel was almost triple that. With a gentle jolt, the train begins to pick up momentum again, its grinding metal and loud engine squealing at her to hurry up.

Biting her lip, she pulls out her phone and looks at the messy pen scribble of her mother’s handwriting on the bottom of her invitation: a phone number she doesn’t recognize and a short “Call if you need a ride :)” message next to it. The friendliness of the smiley face seemingly contradictory of the basic impersonal invitation she was sure they sent to anyone and everyone.

 Maybe they didn’t expect her to come and they just felt obligated to send it? Turning the thought over in her head, she shook it away with a shudder. It was too late to have these doubts now-the hum of the train beneath her seat and the “Welcome to Pennsylvania!” sign making that abundantly clear. Punching the number into her phone, she hit the call button before she could give herself time to second-guess it. It rings once. Twice. A third time. Only stopping when the receiver tells her the number can’t be reached and to try again later. 

“Fuck.” Y/N curses under her breath, remembering that she is, in fact, in a metal tube speeding through tunnels and trees that really push the boundaries of her average cell phone line. She types the number in again and waits this time until the train pulls into another small stop right at the southernmost part of Pennsylvania. She had not maybe 30 minutes (if she was lucky) before her train ride would come to its dreaded end. Thumbing the call button, she waited. This time it rang only twice before an overly enthusiastic voice answered on the other line. 

“A warm greeting from The Wörner Hotel and Estate! Front desk and lobby services, this is Seokjin speaking. How may I assist you today?” His voice was smooth and light on the ears, but it hit her as anything but light. The name made her entire form tense up, and a nervous sweat prick at her brow. The reality of what she was doing truly settling into her system as the voice of an old friend forced her to face the consequences of her actions head-on. It's fine, She told herself, he probably doesn't even care. It's been years...

“Hello? May I help you?” He quipped again, a bit less perky than the first time.

Realizing that she hadn’t responded she choked out “Yes! Yes, one moment please!” She mentally face-palmed herself for such a clumsy response. “This is Y/N. Y/N Wörner. Anslem and Mariah’s daughter.” 

A moment of fuzzy silence met her ears causing her to shift anxiously in her seat. She was in the process of checking the phone screen to see if he had hung up when shuffling noises on the other end of the line jolted her phone back to her ear and his silver-tone voice cut through the static. 

“Oh! Yes forgive me-Mrs. Wörner had mentioned you might reach out.” He let out a smooth chuckle before continuing on.  “I assume you are calling for transportation services?” If he was surprised, his tone didn’t show it.

Y/N nodded, before catching that he could not see her with a “Yes, please!”

“Great! What’s the pick up address?” Y/N could hear the smile in his words and she flushed with embarrassment at how not put together she sounded. What a wonderful "first" impression she's giving him of her adult self.

“It’s going to be the Philadelphia Amtrak station.” Her eyes flitted to the trees dotted with new buds outside her window, finding their gentle sway in the wind soothing enough to qualm her racing heart. 

“Awesome... And what time will your train be arriving at the station, Ms. Wörner?” She heard the click of a pen, and the scratch of its ink on the paper. 

“Well, you see about that…” She trailed off as the train began to leave the small station, the pen scratching mimicking her pause. “Maybe 20 minutes or so?” She laughed nervously at her own obvious lack of foresight. If he had managed to scrounge up any good impression of her during their call, she had just metaphorically tossed it out of her train window.

Seokjin guffawed on the other end of the line and openly sputtered out a “20 minutes?! That's an almost 3 hour drive, miss. I will send someone out right away, but will you be alright waiting?” Y/n could tell he was trying his best to cover up his anxious outburst with concern, and the formality in his phrase feeling foreign and uncomfortable to her ears.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll grab something to eat and hunker down on a bench. It’s my fault for not calling sooner…” Y/N’s voice trickled out as she realized how this might make them look to her parents-making a guest wait for longer than they would approve of. She made a mental note to herself that she would just happen to forget to mention it during any conversations with them.

“Alright then Ms. Wörner. Your driver will reach out to you via text to share their information, location services, and a description of their vehicle. " She heard the unmistakable clicking of frantic computer keys as the previous anxiety in his tone faded and his customer service voice took over once again. "Please have your phone on hand with notifications on in case they need to reach you with any questions. Is there anything else I can help you with today?

“No, that is everything. Thank you, Jin.”  The nickname spilled from her lips with a practiced ease that surprised her own self, but he carried on like he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Wonderful! I will see you later in the evening.” She could hear him typing something into his computer before the clacking ceased and a moment of silence enveloped them again. This time the silence felt eerily wrong and awkward. She could almost hear the sharp exhale before his voice drifted through the phone at a volume so quiet she almost missed it.

"I'm sorry- I couldn't catch that." She laughed trying to lighten the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“It’s…” He paused, seemingly weighing the sound of his own words on his tongue. “It’s good to have you back, Y/n.” 

The dial tone signaled that the line had ended, but she still found herself holding the speaker to her ear much longer than she needed to. The way he said her name with so much heaviness had her whole world spinning. It was both nerve-wracking and comforting that he remembered her. It meant she hadn’t been gone long enough for anyone to truly forget as easily as she had wished they could-for she should know better than to expect from them what she could never do within herself-and she couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or a curse.

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Hi there, Y/N!  I am about 15 minutes out from the station. I will park out front in the pick up line- black Hyundai, license plate no. JHP-0613. See you soon!! :) - Hoseok J.

Y/n used a greasy finger to swipe the notification bar down to read the message. So Hoseok ended up staying to work at the hotel too? She tapped the straw of her empty soda cup to her lips in thought. She would’ve bet money that he would’ve at least been working in the live entertainment part of the hotel; destined to follow in his parents’ footsteps more so than one of their chauffeur drivers.

His father, Jeonghun Jung or Mr. Jung, had been an exceptional live swing and jazz singer in the evenings in the main restaurant on the property, the Adelaide, with his mother Misuk Jung performing duets with him on rare occasions. Hoseok had been his mother’s favorite dance partner during her weekly swing dancing classes, and he had done wonderful stage work even at a young age. He should’ve had a straight shot to take their place once they retired, and they couldn’t possibly still be performing these days at the rate they had with their age, Y/n mused. Unless things really had changed drastically while she had been away. It made her wonder if everyone had stayed at the hotel except for her.

She scoffed at the thought. Last she heard the Min’s boy applied to a college up in New York, and Jins cousin always was a smart kid-he must’ve left first chance he could. They had been more of her sister's crowd even though their age gap wasn't that drastic-having grown in distance from Y/n herself once high school made that small age gap seem wider than it was.

Shaking her thoughts away, she wiped the grease of her fast food meal on her pants and typed a simple “Great! See you then.”

She swung her bags onto her shoulders with a grunt, and leisurely strolled through the station, only pausing to toss her soda cup away in a nearby trash can. Y/n pushed through the exit and found a spot for herself near the pick-up line that wasn't too uncomfortably close to other passengers awaiting their rides.

Taking in her surroundings, she eyed the bridge leading up to the station and watched all the pedestrians walking their own beat into the cement. The thing about Pennsylvania is that anywhere in the ungodly large state feels familiar. Maybe it’s the constant stark contrast of natural beauty and old cement monstrosities, or perhaps it’s the feeling that every place in this humid state is haunted with its own age and existence. Being surrounded by the bustling nature of Philly’s atmosphere reminded her of taking trips here with her family, having walked the same sidewalk following the bridge to and from the train station many times. 

A rhythmic vibration grew in volume and stole her attention away from her surroundings as a sleek black car pulled into the spot closest to her. The hip-hop song cut off as the driver's side door opened and a head of long wavy brown hair framing a wide heart shaped grin popped out from within. 

“Y/n! Wow!” He let out a short whistle as he leaped onto the sidewalk with ease, and traipsed over to wrap her in a tight hug before she could protest. “It’s been waayyy too long.”

Her arms loosely wrapped themselves around his small waist, and all she could smell was orange blossom and pine-The latter being one of the signature smells surrounding the estate and the former being purely just how she remembered Hoseok. For a few moments the smell took her back to sitting shoulder to shoulder with him and his mother, a large mug of mulled orange tea,  and their backs bent over a card game with crisp autumn air permeating the room from an open window. At that time it had been nearly impossible to keep him off his feet after he had suffered an injury from playing too roughly with the other boys. He had been practically melting from boredom, and had lost a lot of his usual shine from being sheltered in on himself. A shine that radiated off of him like a thousand suns at the present day. 

“Ugh, not long enough." She lamented, and he released her from the hug with a dramatic roll of his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. Save that attitude for your folks, not me.” His eyes trailed from her and the backpack and overstuffed carry on bag digging into her shoulders, before his warm brown eyes found hers again with a click of his tongue. “Is that all you brought? I figured for such a long stay there would at least be a suitcase-hell even a second backpack.” 

Y/n tilted her head at him, confused. “ Such a long stay?” 

Hoseok raised a brow at her response and chuckled. “I mean, yeah. I assume you’re staying for the entire anniversary celebration schedule-are you not?” He gestured to the straps on her shoulder, and she immediately shrugged them off and into his waiting hands. The relief her shoulder blades felt was unmatched at the moment. 

She hesitated in her response, choosing instead to watch him pop the trunk and place her bags in. She hadn’t actually thought about how long she’d be here, she realized. Weirdly enough, her mind felt too fuzzy to bother worrying about another thing today-so she waited for his eyes to glance up at her over the open trunk to give him a shrug. 

“I didn’t think that far ahead, if I’m being honest.” 

He let out a boisterous laugh and slammed the trunk shut. “Seriously, you must not have changed that much.” Continuing to chuckle, he rounded the side of the car to the passenger side, and swung the door open in a dramatic gesture and a flash of his blinding smile. “After you, Ms. Wörner.” 

With a smile and a shake of her head, she settled into the front seat. He closed the door once certain she was fully in the car, and skipped to the driver side door and swung himself in and slammed the door in one swift move. 

“Are you always this casual with all your passengers?” Y/n turned to face him with a teasing smile. 

He snorted. “God, no-I like having my job.” He flicked the turn signal on for only a half second before swerving into the passing lane, immediately keeping pace with the other philly drivers. The hip hop song resumed at a lower volume than before, filling the car with a laid back atmosphere. “I have all my passengers sit in the back whenever possible. They can be really…” He paused trying to find the right word while switching lanes to take a westward exit. “Annoying.” he concluded. 

“And I’m not 'annoying' to you?” Y/n laughed, thinking about the amount of times he had referred to her as such as a child. 

“You?” He let his eyes flicker to her briefly, sliding a sly smile on his face before returning his gaze to the road. “Never.” 

The drive went by quickly with such an engaging driver by her side. He was sure to ask all about her time in D.C., and she readily supplied him with answers. She told him all about her starting school, then in turn dropping out after her first year after feeling like no major fit her goals (if she even knew what those were anymore). A fact she was usually much too embarrassed to share, but he took it with no judgement. Instead taking the conversation elsewhere, like her current hobbies and interests, or prodding into her dislike for her roommates with exaggerated humor. She didn’t realize how much she had missed talking with him. Why didn’t she reach out to him? To any of them? She wondered.

As if her brain liked being cruel her to when she was finally able to slip into states of peace, it forcefully pulled one of her last prominent memories of him.

Her face was hot and wet as she stomped out of the private dining room. The gentle sway of Nat King Cole that used to be her favorite around this time of year had become her least favorite thing in the world at the moment, each note hitting her ears sharply. Her head pounding in retaliation to what was once a subtle volume now seeming like it bounced tauntingly in her skull, telling her to have a ‘Merry Christmas”. If she wasn’t so angry she would’ve laughed at the irony. She didn’t get far down the festively lit hall before she ran face first into Hoseok, his hands still damp from having just been washed bracing her shoulders, and his concerned voice muffled by her own blood rushing through her ears. She met his worried and imploring eyes, his wavy hair only just gracing his brows back then, and all she saw reflecting back in his eyes was her own swollen and disheveled reflection. Then his face fell into the same shape everyone else in the dining room had. Pity.

She hated it. It made her skin crawl, and her stomach bubble in self-defensive rage. He was looking at her the same way Mr. and Mrs. Min just had. Like the Jeon and Kim families had. Like Hoseok’s parents had. It made her sick. 

“Did you know too?” She spat out. 

He stuttered at her sudden intensity. “W-what? What are you-” 

She pushed her finger into his chest sharply. “Don’t you lie to me, Hoseok Jung.” 

A moment of stillness gripped them both in a heavy hand that's fingers were closing in on them, one at a time in a tight fist, trying to take its time suffocating them. His eyes flickered back and forth between both of hers and then she saw it-his chin crinkled just so-and it gave him away to her in an instant. 

She let out a wet angry laugh that sounded closer to a sob. “So you too, huh?” She took a staggered step back, feeling like with every step the floor was pulling her deeper. Like it was trying to pull her through the floorboards so it could swallow her whole. At this moment she wanted it to. “Did everyone know?”

“Y/n, listen I-” His eyes were glassy, saying more to her than his words could.

“Save it.” She shoved past his outstretched hands and began the pathetic walk of shame back to her room. She hated crying in front of people, and it seems like everyone in the house had gotten a front row seat and an encore. She heard him call out for her, but it didn’t stop her. She didn’t have the strength to face any more betrayal than she already had.

“Y/n? You still with me?” Hoseok took one hand off the wheel to playfully wave it in front of her face.

She pushed his hand and her memories away in fake annoyance with a gentle ‘sorry’. 

He shook it off with a laugh.

“So what about you? Your parent-are they still performing at the Adelaide?” Y/n snuck a sideways glance to judge his response. 

He let out a heavy sigh. “Ah…no not really. My dad will sometimes sing some of his old classics on busy weekends, and my mom switched from swing classes to waltzing lessons. But otherwise they’re mostly retired from the entertainment industry and doting on my sister. Old age and achy bones and all that.” 

Y/n nodded along, trying not to ask the burning question of why he hadn’t taken their spot. Before the question could sear it’s way off her tongue he spoke again, seeming to read her thoughts. 

“You remember the Kims 2.0? Not Seokjin and Namjoon kinda Kims. The new Kims." He gave her befuddled expression a brief sideways glance and continued to clarify. "Thinking about it, I guess you probably didn’t get to spend as much time with them before you were sent off to all those different schools. And they were usually gone around the holidays as his parents don’t care too much for Christmas. They were only around for a couple months before they hired their son permanently.”

Y/n’s face scrunched in thought as she tried to remember their arrival. “The Kims 2.0?” 

Hoseok hummed. “Yeah. They were hired after y-” He seemed to catch himself “After I broke my leg-sometime around there. They do stage planning and such. They travel a lot and work remotely from California most of the time though.” 

When Y/n didn’t give him much of a reaction he clicked his tongue and moved on. 

“Well, their son, Taehyung-he’s got this singing voice that’s undeniably born for big band and jazz-they would’ve been a fool not to give him the job the second he turned 21.  It didn’t take much convincing for him to take my dad’s place.” There was tension in his tone that he seemed to be trying to cover with his usual nonchalance. But she could pick up on his discomfort-the a passage of time doing nothing to rust what had once been second nature-and decided to change the topic. 

“Huh. I guess the name sounds familiar…but tell me,” she turned her body to face him and folded her hands in her lap. “Who else stayed behind?” 

“Once a gossip, always a gossip.” He rolled his eyes, but another small genuine smile was breaking across his face. 

When he didn’t start talking immediately, she gave him an expectant look. 

“Alright, I’ll spoil the surprise, geez.” He turned the car onto an exit, signaling their time on major highways ending and the time of battlefield side roads and wooded winding paths etched into the scenery. Satisfied with that, she turned her head to look out her window- she could see the main town of Gettysburg in the distance, outlined by the setting sun. 

“Seokjin works the desk and maintains the lobby, as you are aware. Usually I work as a valet or chauffeur. But sometimes I pick up random jobs around the place when I’m not busy: like working the pool or picking up shifts at the convenience store and gift shop. Pretty much anywhere they need me.” He turned off the main road that would’ve sent them straight through downtown Gettysburg, and veered onto the start of the long scenic back roads that led to the Hotel and Estate. “Sometimes even giving Yoongi a hand with electrical issues when he needs-”

“Yoongi? I thought he went to a university in New York?” Y/n couldn’t contain her disbelief.

“Oh, yeah. He did, but came back about 3 years in. Said something about needing to figure some things out before he went back to finish.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Anyways, our Jiminie is one of our tour guides and the historian” Hoseok cooed, “You should pop into one of his tours of the property in the morning! I don’t know if anyone has gotten around to telling him about you coming back yet.” 

The way he said coming back with such finality settled heavily in her stomach-like he had expected her to come back-like he was expecting her to stay. She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts; that was definitely just her anxiety speaking. 

“Jungkook works housekeeping right now-but he’s been weighing going into security training. I’m sure he's just ecstatic to hear about you. “ Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows aggressively and gave her a teasing smile. 

“Oh shut up with that, he was always just my good friend.” Y/n flushed lightly, knowing full well Jungkook had not seen her as just a friend throughout their childhood. Always trailing after her like a puppy because for some reason her awkwardness, lack of social skills, and very strict way of organizing her animal figurines must have really drawn him in. He hadn’t ever actually said anything to her about it, choosing instead to be a good friend who was a great shoulder to lean on. But even with obliviousness being a top skill on her metaphorical resume, she had been able to tell. 

“Uh huh. You tell yourself that, Mrs. Jeon~” 

“Oh my god! We were FIVE. Playing house was serious business back then and you know it-we even got divorced twice. TWICE! Does the word divorce not mean anything to you?” Y/n couldn’t contain her laughter by the end of her defense, and neither could he. 

“What was the first one about again?” 

Y/n waved her hand dismissively “Oh-he wouldn’t let me name our pretend pet dolphin Shoeshine or something like that. Said the dolphin needed a more distinguished name.” 

“Damn, that really does sound like very serious business.” He cackled. 

“Don’t act like you’re innocent here!” She spun her entire body in her seat to face him “I also married YOU once. AND Yoongi.” 

He gave a loud overdramatic gasp. “So you admit to cheating on me? All these years I wondered…what a shame.” 

They dissolved into a fit of giggles before a comfortable silence settled in the vehicle. Glancing back over at him to quip another remark about their fake marriage, she paused. He seemed to want to say something else with the way his mouth tightened before opening momentarily-then snapping it shut with pursed lips. He must’ve decided to just say it, his voice breaking the silence.

“Your sister is still off in Europe, so we haven’t seen her since the last time you were both back for the holidays.” He flexed his fingers against the wheel to ease the budding tension from his body. She could tell he was avoiding bringing up what happened during that holiday visit that caused her sister to run to foreign college programs- and she couldn’t blame him.  Their reluctance to speak of the topic made it easy for him to quickly move on. 

“Roland goes to school nearby for now, but I don’t see him often enough to give you much more than that.” He offered with an apologetic shrug. “And last but not least-Namjoon has taken up landscaping maintenance and gardening. He does a great job with it too-It is what he went to school for after all.” Hoseok chuckled, trying to keep the mood light again.

“So he did make it to school?” Y/n quipped in. 

“Yeah, he did some hybrid program that had him in and out of California to study Botany and Horticulture, with a minor in some sort of plant management….something. You can ask him about the specifics.” 

“Huh.” Y/n fell back in her seat, her shoulders sagging against the seat.

“What?” He glanced over at her as he made a right turn onto the gradual hill that snaked it’s way to the front lawn gates.

“It’s just…” She saw the gates of the driveway in the distance and her heart tightened painfully in her chest. “Everyone stayed. I was so sure most of you would’ve banked the second they got the chance.” Everyone but me. 

His grip tightened on the wheel. 

“We tried, but it’s almost like this place-” He paused with a sharp exhale. “-you just feel like you never want to leave.” 

His words were genuine, but his smile was not. It was the first smile she’d seen from him today that didn’t meet his eyes

Pulling into the gate she felt her heart somehow squeeze tighter, and she tried to shake away the unsettling feeling that found a home in her chest at his words. Instead turning her attention to the old metal gates that were always propped open to welcome its endless flow of guests. The long front lawn decorated in hardy shrubs dotted  inbetween with budding nursery plants, the soil around them was still loose and fresh, probably new additions to welcome the coming of spring. Her eyes surveyed the clash of the familiar and unfamiliar. The plants looked different than the usual flora species she remembered them traditionally planting, it looked like someone was experimenting with a new layout-probably Namjoon- she concluded.  Hoseok took the gravel road at a relaxed place, giving her time to take it all in. The outside of the hotel remained the same- A combination of colonial and old European romance. Boxy, yet elegant, and still unimaginably huge. Her eyes flitted from the front stairs and followed to the right around to the side veranda built onto the sloping  hill, so you can gaze down into a heavy tree line and over the-

“What the fuck is that?” Y/n pointed at a rounded protrusion from the right side of the building towards a dome of glass panels where the outdoor pool used to rest. 

“What? The pool?”  He slowed the car to a stop so she could get a better look at it. “They built a greenhouse dome around the outside portion of it to extend its year round use. It’s really nice inside. Next shift I work at the pool, I'll come grab you and you can keep me company while I keep an eye out for drowning children.”  After she had a few moments to take in the new addition, he put the car into motion, snaking his way through the roundabout and stopping at the base of the stone steps. 

“Here we are!” He sang unbuckling both of their seatbelts. He hopped out of his seat the instant he put the car in park, and shut the door behind him without sparing her a glance. She heard the trunk open, and the shake of the car that made her sway in her seat as he pulled her stuff out of the trunk. In any other circumstance, she’d think he was trying to be annoying, a classic move on his part of avoiding her gaze and leaving her in the dust to see who could make it to the front doors first. But this time she could tell he was giving her space to take it in, and for that she was grateful.

She took a deep breath and gripped the door handle with three fingers. She watched through the window as Hoseok started carrying her bags up the stairs at aleisurelye pace, taking his own time in order to give her more. She felt the handle give under her hands, and the rush of chilly early spring air brushed against her skin, and the symphony of bugs and the sound of the tree branches dancing in the breeze met her ears.

The hair on her limbs stood up in succession, sending chills across her entire form. One of her feet met the ground, and the crunch of gravel felt so loud in her ears. It rattled her bones and made every muscle coil up, like an animal preparing to run from danger. She stood, putting both feet on the ground, an intense feeling getting stronger the closer she got to the stairs. Her heart thrummed in time with each one of her steps, and her ears began to ring. Hoseok had already made it to the doors, and was conversing with a luggage boy. Why did he feel so far away all of the sudden? The air suddenly felt as though it was closing in on her with each pace and the ringing in her ears was so loud, she thought they might bleed.

The bottom of her shoes met the first stone step with a thud, and suddenly all was quiet. She froze, unable to move any further. No more bugs, no sway of the tree branches in the wind. The ringing in her ears had ceased. Only the sound of her breathing and her heartbeat remained, which felt so small in comparison to this open ended silence. She couldn’t even hear Hoseok’s distant voice talking to the men standing at the doors; it was like they weren’t even there anymore. Glancing up, she found that they were in fact no longer there.

The space they had occupied showed no sign of life. The doors were still open, yet no light emitted from the windows or the threshold. She was alone. The door was still open, but was now occupied by a pulsing darkness that felt both overwhelmingly alive yet utterly empty.  The silence became suffocating.

The dark blue of the spring night sky no longer felt peaceful-it felt dangerous. It was as though she had a thousand eyes on her from all directions, waiting with baited breath for her to fall right into their hungry, gaping mouths. From her right side, a cloud of cold air curled around her leg and weaved itself between her palm and fingers, coiling itself tighter around them like it was holding onto her and keeping her from turning back. The gravel road gave way with a crunch behind her, and then she heard it. A whisper so quiet it almost blended into the chill breeze. 

“Welcome home.”

Suddenly the world snapped back into motion, nearly knocking her off her feet with its force. The bugs resumed their song, and the trees their swaying dance. Her chest was rising rapidly as her eyes searched frantically at the warmly lit windows, and the once dark and empty door now bursting with a warm inviting glow. In front of it her eyes landed on where Hoseok stood, giving directions to the luggage boy as he handed them her bags. Suddenly wanting nothing more than to be near him and the inviting light of the lobby, she sped up the stairs as fast as her legs could take her. 

“-private estate. You can put them on the second-floor landing. Thank you.” 

By the time she reached him, her heart was beating out of her chest and she had begun to sweat-from nerves or the speed at which she pushed herself up the stairs she couldn’t tell.

He turned his head to speak to her and did a double take. 

“Woah- what happened to you? You look like you might be sick.” His hand gently brushed his hand across her forehead to check her temperature, and his other hand held her forearm to steady her. She was sure it must’ve come back damp but he didn’t comment on it, instead choosing to remain quiet with his mouth twisted in contemplation. His eyes flickered over her shoulder down to the car, and paused there for a moment before meeting hers. Abruptly, he turned and stepped through the front doors of the lobby. 

The high white stone and gold ceiling outlined in ornate crown molding, brightly lit with a large chandelier hanging proud over the lobby seating was as grand as she remembered. Hoseok didn’t give her time to marvel over it, his shoes clacking loudly on the polished floor as he beelined for the check in desk located against the back wall, passing all of the seating and the barreled ceiling hallway to her left that led to the theater hall below them. The large wooden board behind the man behind the counter’s wide frame was dotted with golden keys hanging from their large metal rings- “it keeps the charm!” her father had insisted when they talked about changing to key cards. She watches the man behind the desk reach one and swipe the one hanging under the number 203, handing it to the family he was checking in. Her eyes’s mesmerized by the way the rest of the keys glittered in the yellow glow of the extravagant light fixtures mounted next to it. 

Her father let her sit in during their meeting with staff and other executives during the discussion about what updates they’d like to see in the next 10 years. She had taken the opportunity very seriously- her favorite Clifford the Big Red Dog pencil with a frog shaped eraser gripped purposefully in her small hands, scribbling down notes she deemed worthy in a batman themed notebook. The moment Mr. Jeon had suggested a keycard system, and the room was divided between moving with modern technology, or keeping the surviving key system they’d had since the first guest stayed in the hotel. She remembered the way her father, after sitting with his brows creased deep in thought, turned his gaze to her and grinned. “What does the future inheritor of the Wörner estate say?” 

“I can help the next person.” Seokjin’s clear tone brought her into the present, jolting her heart that had just barely managed to calm itself from whatever happened outside. 

His warm brown almond shaped eyes and friendly smile made her heart feel warm with nostalgia-giving her a much needed distraction. He gave her a once over and his face immediately fell into a look of irritation as he turned to Hoseok, who sauntered up to the edge of the desk. 

“Checking in a Ms. Wörn-”

“What did you do to her? I sent you because I thought you’d be a good fit to make her feel comfortable, not to torture her!” He reached his hand up and gently smacked Hoseok upside the head. 

“Hey!” 

“Hey what? I knew I should’ve sent Namjoon instead.” He turned to his left, muttering something along the lines of sending a clown to do the lord's work as he rummaged through what looked like a mini fridge tucked under the desk. 

“Ugh Jin, pull it together.” He reached over the counter to poke Seokjin’s puffed out cheeks, and the latter immediately brought his hands up to swat him away. “And anyways, I’d give Namjoon five seconds into Philly before he would’ve gotten into an accident. He doesn’t know how to drive in cities.” 

Seokjin stood back up, nudging the mini fridge door closed with his hip, a can of water in his hands and scowl on his face directed at Hoseok’s cheeky grin. Turning his attention back to y/n his face did a complete 180, lighting up in a friendly smile again. He held the aluminum can out for her to grab, and she reached for it with grateful shaky hands, cracking the top open to take a large swig of the cool liquid. 

“Sorry about him Ms. Wörner, you know how he can get.” 

“Please, call me Y/n-don't be a complete stranger.”  and “I didn’t do anything to her!” were spoken over one another.

“Oh yeah? What happened then? Did some other fool talk her ear off for 3 hours?” 

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from nearly choking on her water as she fought back a laugh at the two. The combination of their familiar banter and the refreshing water pulling her back into a more relaxed state. 

“No.” Hoseok plucked a piece of invisible lint from Seokjin’s red jacket. “She tripped.”  Seokjin slapped his hands away again, before eyeing him suspiciously. 

“She tripped?” He straightened his coat off instinctually after he pried Hoseok’s fingers from fiddling with it.

“Yes. She tripped.” 

They seemed to engage in some sort of silent conversation, their eyes following each other as they flickered back and forth to her and the front door behind her. Seokjin relented with a sigh, and turned to Y/n his smile on his lips yet again.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear about that. Be sure to watch your step in the future, we don’t need anything happening to you during your first time back.” He turned to his computer screen for a moment, before moving around to exit the lobby desk.  “Let me show you to your room.”

“I can handle that-” Hoseoks smug smile was wiped off his face by a stern glare from Seokjin. He raised his hands up and surrendered the lead to Seokjin.

 He led the three of them up one of the dual staircases that led to the second half of the lobby ecasing both sides of the front desk, each step feeling more familiar than the last. Once at the top, she saw the convenience store and gift shop to her right, and next to that their small cafe-The Edelweis-with its white floral logo lit up but the seats mostly empty. To her left was a barrelled ceiling hall identical to the one on the level below them, only this one had restrooms lining the left side wall, and a wide red carpeted hallway that led to the right and straight to the Adelaide. She could faintly hear the smooth floating trumpet of a Kitty Kallen song serenading its patrons, and the aroma of the extravagant and diverse menu making her stomach grumble in interest. She’d be sure to stop in tonight if she had time, her mouth practically watering at the thought of freshly made pasta, birria-inspired pot roast, and rustic French bread with their signature gochujang, honey, and herb butter. A melting pot of a restaurant that stands as a physical embodiment of all the different people whose hands helped maintain the hotel to what it is today. 

Seokjin had his hands clasped comfortably behind him as he walking, keeping his back straight. Y/n took this time to inspect his new look: His dark hair not too short but not too long, kept neat and out of his eyes under his cap. His shoulders had widened, and his jaw grew into that which made his face look older and more mature- the last of his boyishness gone in everything except the jovial glow in his eyes. The three of them traversed in silence. Well-what was silence until Hoseok got fidgety. 

“I can’t wait for you to see the estate’s new look. They updated the color so it’s no longer the old dingey red that's in the main hotel. It practically looks like a new building.” 

Seokjin gave a weary look between the two of them, but didn’t comment. He just continued to lead them down one of the side halls on either side of the main elevator, and out into the open square courtyard that the two arms of the back of the hotel wrapped around. Y/n nearly tripped over her own feet to keep pace with how fast he seemed to walk across the cobblestone. Weaving expertly around the small flower garden and seating area where a few guests were lounging about, enjoying the gentle babble of the water fountain. He nodded politely to them and tipped his hat, which they returned.  With swift steps they made it out of the courtyard and up the gravel path to the Estate house. Stopping at the navy blue and gold embellished doors, he pulled out a key from his pocket and slid it in the keyhole. If Y/n didn’t know any better, he seemed to be on edge- stuck in a conundrum of being in a rush yet somehow also reluctant to open the door. But as for why she couldn’t quite piece together. 

The doors swung open and her breath caught in her throat. She had found her answer.

What used to be the old dated, red wallpaper, was now a soft sky blue- brightening up the white molding and making the golden details shine. The wooden floors had been repolished, and a dark blue antique patterned rug ran through the main hall and disappeared into the rest of the downstairs. Everything was fresh, bright, rich, and confronting. Just like she had drawn out when she was a teenager. 

The thought made her both swell with pride, and awakened a dormant rage. Forcing those feelings away she followed their steps, past the large dining room to her left and the study to her right. With each doorway she passed, she could see snippets of the new designs-her designs-sticking to the blue tones and gold embellishments. A nod to the Wörner heritage, and to the tea set brought to the United States by Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s fourth great grandfather that had a permanent home in their dining room display cabinet. Its grayish blue accented cups and saucers are a symbol of the symbiotic relationship between the two families that had been going strong for nearly a century.

Making their way up the grand staircase to the landing, she saw her bags resting on one of two navy plush armchairs. The elegant blue from below continued up throughout the landing and down both halls on either side of her, perfectly complementing the oil-painted mural of wispy clouds and classically painted figures draped across the landing’s ceiling. 

“So, what do you think? Nice right?” Hoseok did a small whistle and a turn. “Makes it feel so much brighter and less like The Haunted Mansion with all of those deep moody reds.”

Seokjin stood quietly, his head slightly down and his neck flushed. He probably knew that this had been her idea. Her design. With his parents being so involved in the affairs of the hotel and estate, they would know everything, and subsequently so would he. Hoseok remained oblivious to the awkward energy in the room, so Y/n plastered a smile on her face in order to save everyone from the lingering discomfort. 

“It really does. Just makes it more inviting.” She managed to get the words out without sounding too forced, a feat she had to pat herself on the back for. Tearing her eyes away from the walls to look at the two of them, she could practically feel Seokjin’s shoulder’s relax as he bounced to pick up her bags with two hands. 

“Your room has remained mostly untouched at your parent’s request. I’m sure you can change that though if you wanted to.”  Seokjin smiled. Y/n realized as she watched him stand still, that he was probably waiting for her to lead the way to her room. Muscle memory led her there-down the hall on the right-hand side of the split landing to follow the bend to the left all the way to the back corner room.

She could hear their soft footsteps behind her, so she knew she didn’t have time to freeze up now. Gripping the bronze worn doorknob with vigor, she pushed open the door with a bit more force than she had meant to, causing the door to bounce off the door stopper before coming to a slow stop at an angle.

“Geez, what’d that door do to you?” Hoseok remarked, earning a stiff elbow in the ribs from Seokjin.

Ignoring the two of them, she stepped into her old room. It was exactly as she remembered it. The golden bed frame wound with battery operated lights from her highschool years, her comforter a natural forest green, complemented by an array of burnt orange and white leaf patterned pillows. The walls a sage green botanical wallpaper, peppered with photos from her childhood and highschool. Kicking a flipped corner of her patterned woven rug out, she took a slow lap around the room, stopping to run her hands over the calendar, 4 years out of date, still open to December. On the 25th box were a few doodles of trees and cookies she had done in a tipsy haze the night of Christmas eve. Seokjin cleared his throat, startling her. 

“Where would you like me to set these?” 

“Oh! You can just toss those on the bed. Thanks.” she gestured absent mildly in the direction of the bed. 

He did as he was told, while Hoseok just leaned against the doorframe, glancing around the room seemingly lost in thought. 

“Dinner in the estate is still served at 7:30, so you have a bit of time to get settled if you’d like to join us. You don’t have to eat here, you can always go to the Adelaide or wherever you’d like. But I’m sure your parents are looking forward to seeing you tonight.” Seokjin bowed gently, and began to retreat. Without thinking, Y/n walked over and put a hand on his arm. 

“Thanks, Jin. I really appreciate everything today. I missed you all.” Y/n met his eyes, hoping to convey her sincerity. 

“No problem Ms. Wör-”

Y/n cut him off with a playful groan. “ Enough of that- you’re still my friend, no need for fancy titles or anything like that.” 

His ears twinged pink as he gave her a shy nod and smile. The customer service persona was gone, and  in front of her stood the sweet and quiet Seokjin she remembered as a kid. 

“Great! I’ll see you at dinner then. 7:30?” 

He fixed his coat again, and the confident persona took over once again. 

“Of course you’ll see me there. You know me, always on time.” He gave her a small salute and passed Hoseok (who had been silently watching the exchange) giving him a curt nod as he left the room. Hoseok watched him go until he was out of sight, and turned back to face Y/n. 

“You doing okay with all of this?” He asked, gesturing to her with his chin.

“Yeah I am. I should probably wash the bedding though, don’t you think? Four years of sitting in a dusty room probably has them feeling pretty stale.” Y/n laughed dismissively. She unzipped her bag and began to pull stuff out onto the stiff comforter. 

“I didn’t just mean your room, but that’s good to hear. I can let the laundry service know for you on the way out.” She met his gaze again for a good long minute-waiting for him to crack a joke of some kind- but he didn’t. 

“Oh.” She paused, trying to wrack her brain for a good response. How was she doing with all this? Honestly she couldn’t tell, her day had been a complete whirlwind so far. It was like something had drawn the curtains on her anxiety and emotions so she couldn’t feel them at the moment. If she really thought about it, she couldn’t put her finger on why she had been so nervous in the first place. Right now, she felt good in the estate-like she was supposed to be here. “I’m really not sure. I feel fine, I think…” She trailed off with a shrug. 

He hummed in agreement, but he didn’t seem to buy it. 

“Well if you need anything, I’m down the hall on the left side of the landing now.”

“Awww. We aren’t neighbors anymore?” 

His smile came back again, and he laughed. “Oh don’t you wish.” He pushed himself up from the door frame and stretched his arms above his head until she heard something pop. “But fortunately for you, I’m Jungkook’s problem now.” 

“Shucks, what am I ever going to do with all this peace and quiet.” Y/n snapped her fingers in feigned disappointment. 

“Oh I don’t know about that, your new neighbor is a night owl so I’ve heard.” He began to saunter back out of the room with a teasing smile. 

“Oh yeah? And who is that?” She stuck her head out of her doorway to peer at him as he made his way down the hall. 

“Yoongi. He insisted on moving to this hall when he came back so I traded with him.” 

_________________________________________

Hoseok was true to his word, the cleaning service showing up not 10 minutes after he had made his leave. Once she had thanked them profusely and handed them her linens, she made sure to waste all the time she could by puttering about her room and giving it a gentle face lift, doing anything to keep her mind occupied and away from both her parents and whatever the fuck she had experienced out front. Removing the outdated calendar was first, then putting away all her belongings in color order (multiple times), before tucking her bags beneath the bed-which is where she was in the process of doing now- seated on the floor with her bags folded over her knees, and head tilted in confusion. She had lifted the bed skirt up to shove the bags under there to be forgotten indefinitely, when something being in her way stopped her in her tracks.

There, centered under her bed, was a small wooden box that was sure she hadn’t left in that spot. It was her old childhood jewelry box, one of which she purposefully avoided taking with her. With trembling hands, she pulled it out and unlatched the lid.

Laying inside the velvet lined side right where she had left them, were all of the pictures she owned that had anything to do with her younger sister. She picked up the first one and held it up to look at it more closely, even though she knew that she shouldn’t.

Three girls, close in age and wearing a set of matching dresses only differing in color, were lined up on the front porch of the hotel, the front lawn behind them was flourishing with flora and littered with toys. The photographer-she thinks it had been Mrs. Jung- had to have been standing in the open doors of the lobby when it was taken. Posing obediently on the right-hand side was Amelia, the eldest, wearing a large toothy grin and one arm tossed awkwardly over Y/n’s bent form. The 4-year-old Y/n in the photo had her arms wound tightly around the youngest in the photo, Matilda. Matilda’s small hands were clasped around a stuffed horse, and she was sporting the signature awkward and messy grin of a nearly 3-year-old toddler.

Y/n felt her throat tighten as she held up the next photo: the one of Matilda’s last Christmas. No one in the photo had known that at the time of course-so the photo did not reflect the mood it now elicited from most onlookers.

It was teeming with the unbridled joy of over a dozen children posed in front of that year’s lavishly decorated tree, all of them buzzing with impatience to open the overflowing pile of presents spilling into the bottom edge of the photo. She could recognize the faces of a few of both her own distant cousins that had joined in the festivities that year speckled in between her sisters, and the boys who lived in the house, and Hoseok's sister. She spied Hoseok's wild boyish grin standing next to herself, his eyes looking sideways instead of at the camera. Jimin was posed sweetly, sitting sandwiched in the front on the floor between young Jungkook and a boy she didn’t really recognize. One of Jin and Namjoon’s cousin’s who had come to visit for the holidays on occasion? Or perhaps Taehyung, the boy Hoseok mentioned earlier... She wasn’t entirely sure.

Her eyes slid to the Kim boys standing politely off to the right with Amelia. She only just caught Yoongi’s head poking up over Namjoon's shoulder, a small forced smile on his face the most he was able to do for a photo he had adamently detested being in.

Y/n traced Matilda’s small face with the tip of her finger, her arms spread out above her head as she mimicked the star on top of the tree. Clearing her throat of the ball that had formed there, she shoved both photos back in the box, her eyes just catching the photo of a newborn Matilda draped across her own small lap before she shut the lid and slid the clasp back in place.

She only had a few minutes before she had to make an appearance at dinner, and she wasn’t about to go in looking like a blubbering mess.

Shaking her shoulders out and pinching her cheeks, she shoved her folded bags beneath her bed and rose to her feet with the box in hand. Walking over to the large closet, she opened the door and popped the box on the top shelf, promptly shutting the door on both it and the feelings it had dug up. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths before walking into the small ensuite bathroom to freshen her hair and splash cool water on her face. Looking at her own reflection, she tried to give herself a pep talk. 

“It’s just dinner. You can do this. If all else fails, just eat in silence and leave early-but you have to go.” She moved to leave the room but paused, giving heself a stern pointed finger through the reflection. "And keep it together tonight. No matter what happens, don't flip the table."

Giving herself one more affirming nod, she stood up straight and left her bathroom. She grabbed her phone from where she had discarded it on the bare mattress and tucked it into her pocket while she slipped from her room.

Her path was illuminated by golden wall sconces, making it easy to retrace the steps she had taken earlier- not like she couldn’t walk through these halls blind folded if she had to. The distant chatter emitting from the dining room grew louder with each step, causing a nervous burn to bubble up into her throat at the impending reunion.

Stepping quietly up to the archway, she lingered outside the propped doors and peeking around the frame. Her parents weren’t in their seats yet, which made her release a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding at the brief respite the universe had given her. 

The table was donned in a clean blue tablecloth and gold embellished napkins and plates, a glass of chilled white wine at each seat. Hoseok was seated on the opposite side of the table from the door, his glass pinched between a few fingers and leaning heavily onto Namjoon’s shoulder, laughing at something on his phone. Namjoon was also smiling, his dimples on display for all to see. He looked about the same as she remembered- cropped brown hair still damp from a shower, strong yet soft face, and taller than the rest of them. The only thing that seemed different was that his shoulders had almost doubled in width, probably from lugging around wheelbarrows and sacks of soil and compost all day.

To his left was who she had to assume was Jungkook, judging by his rounded eyes and nose. He had her doing a double-take: His hair was much longer than he had kept it when they were younger, and fell in waves down to his cheeks and down the back of his neck. He had also seemingly bulked up like Namjoon, and grown another 3 inches in height since they had last spoken.

The remaining seats were empty. No sight of the Seokjin or the rest of them anywhere. 

Hoseok must’ve felt her nerves leaching from her form, as his eyes suddenly met hers from across the room causing his eyes to light up and a sly smile to break across his face. 

“Oh Y/N! Come sit near me.” He flailed his hand wildly, attempting to beckon her over to join in on the fun. 

Namjoon’s eyes shot up from his phone to connect with hers, and he put his phone into his pocket and came to a clumsy stand. 

“Y/N.” His dimpled smile was overtaken by shock, as he came around the table to pull her into one of his signature bear hugs. 

“H-hey.” Her response was muffled by his sweater as he crushed her to his chest. She could hear Hoseok giggling at her awkwardness and it made her cheeks flush with embarrassment. 

Namjoon released her from the hug and ruffled her hair affectionately. “It’s good to see you again. I didn’t know you were coming back.” 

Y/n laughed uncomfortably and fiddled with the edge of her sweater. “I mean, technically I didn’t either until this morning.” 

He gave her a quizzical look but seemed to go with not asking any questions for now, instead moving to the side so she could wave in Jungkook’s direction. 

“Hi, Jungkook.” 

His eyes gave her a once over before flickering down to play with the frayed edges of his placemat. “Hi.” 

“Oh Jungkook, don’t be shy! She’s just as weird and annoying as she always was.” Hoseok chirped from his seat. 

Y/n let out a defiant sound. “I am not! You said yourself earlier today that I could never be annoying.” 

Jungkook's eyes flickered between the two of them, and let a small smile grace his features. 

“Who, me? I’d never say something so preposterous.” Hoseok held a hand to his chest in mock offense. 

“Preposterous? That’s a big word for you.” Namjoon chimed in, scoffing while he plopped into his seat with a humored scrunch of his face. 

Y/n laughed at Hoseoks sputtered defense, the way they fell back into a comfortable banter eased the ice settling over her skin at the impending arrival of her parents and reminded her of the things she had missed from home and hadn't let herself dwell on for years.

She took a seat across from Namjoon, and slid her chair into place even if it made Hoseok send her a pout at her act of betrayal for not sitting with him. She felt content listening to Namjoon and Hoseok jesting with each other, and let her eyes wander through the royal blue and gold dining room to examine every inch of detail in the room. It filled her with pride to see what she had envisioned come to life, even if she was still mulling over the details of how it came to be. During their journey around the room, her eyes found Jungkook’s, who had been stealing sideways glances at her from his seat since she’d sat down. He quickly averted his eyes, pretending he had been looking at something over her shoulder instead. Or at least, she had thought he was pretending. 

“Do you like the updated design? I’m a bit bummed that I missed getting to show you myself.” Her mother’s voice sounded from behind her. 

She whirled sharply to take her in-and it made her heart squeeze. People don’t talk about the hard parts of not talking to a family member. Everyone likes to talk about the part where they don’t miss them anymore, or when they couldn’t care less about a triumphant praise of their past self's decision making. But they don’t talk about the years you miss out on or the collateral damage of losing connections with those in shared circles- her mother's face carrying just a couple of new wrinkles that weren’t as prominent before a a glaring piece of evidence to the years missed between them. Four years of laughter that etched her laugh lines deeper into her cheeks, or smiles that left permanent crinkles in her eyes that she didn’t get to see. 

Y/n clambered to her feet, and she felt her mother’s eyes following her every movement. 

“I do. They look just as lovely as I’d have imagined.” Y/n managed to force the syllables off her tongue in what she assumed sounded genuine, but she couldn’t tell if her mother saw right through her or not like she used to. 

“I’m glad.” She tilted her head to gaze around the room. “Your father spared no expense to match it to your descriptions as best he could.” She took a tentative step closer, and that’s when Y/n recognized something she didn’t expect: Her mother, Mariah Wörner-one of the most confident, intelligent and strongest women she had ever known-was just as nervous as she was. The way her fingers held onto her own elbows from where her forearms crossed in front of her like a lifeline gave it away. She had expected her to be angry. Hysterical. Enraged. Disappointed. Or even some combination of any of those to take hold of her and spit out insults in fiery waves into her skin or stare daggers into her spine. But instead, her mothers eyes were shaky and uncertain. Scared.

Y/n didn’t know how to answer her, and floundered for a moment in the sudden silence that enveloped the room. The men seemingly distracted by their own devices, trying hard to not look like they were paying attention.

“Your father is cooking tonight, he insisted that he make something for you on your first night back.” Her mother floated over to her usual seat towards the end of the table, and nervously shuffled into her seat. 

“Oh that’s-” Y/n tried to reign in the sudden strong urge to cry, “That’s nice.” She melted back into her seat, feeling like her soul was floating outside of her body. 

“Roland is at a friend's house until Monday. After this spring, we are looking at enrolling him in the same middle school you went to in Hershey.  As such, he’s trying to soak up all the time he can with his friends.” Her mother let out a melodious laugh. “And you know me, I can’t ever say no to you guys.” 

Her sentence hung heavily on Y/n’s consciousness. You didn’t have a problem with that the last time we spoke, Y/n thought to herself bitterly, but she held her tongue to keep it from slipping out.

Her mother occupied herself with unfolding her napkin and resting it on her lap. The silence lingered, the only sounds being the rustle of fabric as people shifted uncomfortably in their seat. 

Y/n wanted nothing more than to both ask a million questions and reignite the argument where it left off, or to run into her mother’s arms and apologize for not giving them another chance to explain themselves. Her conflicting emotions felt overwhelming, feeding into her dissociation. 

Her father burst through the doors separating the dining room from the kitchen, a handful of hot pads stacked in his hands. He looked tired, his brow furrowed as he scanned the room. He stopped looking around when he met Y/n’s eyes, and she saw his own harden in determination.

Here it comes. She thought to herself, bracing herself for him to start reprimanding her. He began to make his way towards her, tossing the hot pads on the table leaving Namjoon to frantically try to catch them before they slid into his chest. 

Y/n began to stand up to greet him, but barely made it six inches off of her seat before her father wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders. He smelt of butter, garlic, and spices as he held her tightly to his chest- it’s as if he thought the moment he let go she would run.

It took her a moment to realize that he was hugging her, not holding her hostage. Y/n let her arms robotically wind their way loosely around her father's back, not fully conscious of her own movements. For a moment she wondered if she had fallen asleep upstairs and that this was all a dream, or if she had actually tripped out front and hit her head. He surely should be yelling at her by now. After a few seconds of silence he let go of her, and gripped her shoulders tightly in his hands. 

“Dad- what’s-”

“I don’t care.” His voice was warm and firm. 

“I don’t understand what you mean?” Y/ns hands grabbed at her father's to try and remove them. She began to feel self-conscious of the way everyone was looking at this open display of vulnerability. She tried to take his hands off of her shoulders to stop herself from crying at the closeness that she had missed. 

“All of this-” He gestured a finger wildly between Y/n, her mother, and himself, “-I don’t care about that right now. I missed you. Let’s move that aside for tonight and just enjoy dinner, yeah?” 

She felt her eyes burning, and swallowed to keep herself in check. She nodded. 

Her father broke into a giddy smile, and he released her. “Toll!” He spun around and quickly made his way through the swinging door, disappearing with a faint “Wunderbar!”.  Only for his head to pop out again not more than a second later, a stack of cork hot pads in his hands that he tossed onto the table with a flying arc. “Can you guys spread those out? I’m going to bring everything out here.”  With that, his head disappeared into the kitchen again.

 Namjoon began to pass the hot pads around and Jungkook stood up to help him evenly distribute them. Not thirty seconds had passed before her dad came back out-a large tray of German potato dumplings, Kartoffelklöße, and placed them in the center. He winked at her and walked briskly back to the kitchen to carry out an array of what Y/n recognized as some of her old favorites.

Crispy roasted brussel sprouts, honey garlic carrots, buttered corn, and pan seared chicken to go with the dumplings. When he placed the last tray, he sat at the head of the table closest to the kitchen, practically glowing with pride at the feast he had prepared. Her dad didn’t waste his time beginning to fill up his own plate, stacking dumplings and chicken on top of each ether with haste. He looked up at her when he noticed she wasn’t moving. 

“Bitte, iss!” He gestured exuberantly to the display, and picked up his fork to shovel the first bite in. 

The rest of the table began to help themselves, and Y/n followed suit. A more comfortable silence fell over the table now that everyone had distracted themselves with curating their own plates. They had made it into a few minutes of clanking silverware and the occasional clear of someone's throat without so much as a word. But Y/n didn't mind-it gave her plenty of time to dissociate even further from the reality she had naively thrown herself into.

“Will Jin be joining us?” Her mother broke the silence, glancing from her plate to Hoseok as she pushed a carrot around her plate. 

Hoseok looked up from cutting his chicken, the shake of the table cloth near his bouncing leg being the only sign of nerves he let himself show. 

“He was supposed to be, but Jimin roped him into dinner at the Adelaide. He has been trying to find someone to sit with him tonight so he’s not by himself, and after being turned down by Yoongi for the dozenth time he moved onto his next victim.” He shoveled another bite into his mouth quickly, hoping to avoid being the only one speaking.

“What about the others?” Y/n didn’t realize it was her own voice until she felt her mother’s gaze on the side of her face. 

“Last I heard Yoongi was called for an urgent maintenance call about an hour ago, so who knows when he’ll be back.” He shrugged, and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “His parent’s have been back in Korea since the Lunar New Year. They’ve only been coming back for maybe 6 months of the year-if that. One of his cousins had twins last year so, more of a reason to keep visiting.” He paused to take a sip from his glass of his wine. “My folks are down at the Adelaide. They usually eat there for dinner anymore, or they drive to my sister’s place. Something about finally getting to enjoy the environment and not having to be the environment.” 

Y/n nodded, trying to stay engaged with anything other than her confused state of mind at the moment. This is not how she expected her first interaction with her parents to go. 

“My aunt and unc-Jin’s parents-Have been traveling mostly.” Namjoon piped in letting Hoseok have a break, reaching over to grab another dumpling. “They all but retired this past January, and have been trying to make the most of it together. Though they haven't officialy gone through the process to finalize it, and I personally think they are hanging on until this year is over. Mr. Jeon has been off teaching a semester or two up at MIT. He has been trying to convince the architecture professor to bring some students down here to come visit the hotel and estate-he likes to bounce ideas off of fresh minds.” 

Y/n hummed in response, turning her attention to the flavors bouncing off of her tongue. She took a risk and snuck glances at both parents. They were exchanging their own private looks; her mother’s was worried, and her father’s was nothing short of elated. Her father’s hand rested gently atop her mother’s, his thumb drawing soothing circles onto he skin. She caught her father’s gaze and he grinned, his eyes crinkling just like she used to remember, if not even brighter. 

She took another bite of corn to keep herself from crying.

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The rest of dinner was surprisingly uneventful. Her father had been true to his word, and avoided making dinner awkward, while also not acting like he was forcing positivity down everyone’s throats. His laughter was loud and genuine, and he always left discussion open for Y/n to contribute if she wanted to, and didn’t bat an eye if she didn’t. He was, in every sense of the word, beaming. It was as if the idea of her just being at the table with him again made his day. And that realization is what led her to where she is now - huddled damp in her towel on her freshly washed and made bed, sniffling away the last of her emotional breakdown in the shower. They had missed her. They had wanted her here. And she chose not to come back. A new wave of fresh tears built up in her eyes before she could stop them again, as her spiral started its cycle all over again.

Guilt. Hope. Anger. Calm. Over and over again.

She left because of them-what they had done was unforgivable in her eyes. But here they were, wanting to sew back together a rip they made. Should she not give them the chance? 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock so soft on her door that she just brushed it off as the house settling itself. She refused to let herself linger on anything that might make her heart race, trying to keep her feet planted in reality-One paranormal experience was more than enough for her today.

It did light a fire under her to move, taking it as her sign to pull herself together by tossing on an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts so she could curl up under the covers for the rest of the night and ignore everything in favor of sleep. Stopping by the cracked closet door to give it a gentle shove closed, and finished the last steps over to her bed.  But just as she was pulling the comforter's edges down, she heard the knock again, cementing the sound as definitely not the house settling. Padding softly over to the door, she opened it just a crack to see who was interrupting her self-pitying time. 

Her mother was standing there, shifting from one foot to the other. Her hair was pulled up and away like she had always done before bed, like she had intended to do the same thing as Y/n before she had found herself outside of her door. 

“Are you…alright?” Y/n opened the door a bit more to get a better look at her. Her eyes were rimmed red, her face was weary and sagged from fatigue. They really must’ve had the same plans. 

“May I come in?” Her mother’s eyes swung from left to right, checking over her shoulder for anyone that may be listening in. Y/n wordlessly moved the side and opened the door just wide enough to let her slip through. Her mother quickly turned to shut the door behind herself, and slid the lock into place. Once she heard the click of the door close, she let out a breath of relief before turning to face Y/n. 

“We need to talk.” Her mother folded her arms over herself. 

Y/n snorted. “Understatement of the century.” 

“I’m being serious, Y/n.” This is truly the most nervous she had ever seen her mother, causing Y/N to reign herself in again with a sigh.

“Look mom, I’m really tired right now. I just want to go to bed. Can we talk about this another time?” Y/n tried to keep her tone even. She was just getting out of the angry phase of her cycle, she didn’t need it reignited. 

“No, we have to discuss it now. It’s crucial.” 

Y/n sighed and plopped onto the foot of her bed with a huff. She looked up at mother expectantly, waving her hand for her to continue. “Well, say what you need to say then.” 

Her mother pinched her nose between her fingers. “Y/n, I didn't come here to fight. I came here to….” Her mother paused, choosing her next words carefully.  “I came here to give you some advice.” 

“Advice?” Y/n's eyebrow rose in disbelief. 

“Yes.” Her mother pulled her silk robe closer around her form. 

“And this couldn’t wait for tomorrow because…?” 

Y/n watched as she exhaled sharply through her nose, a telltale sign that she was growing impatient. “I’m sure that you’ve missed all of your friends -and rightfully so- but it’d be in your best interest that you keep some distance between a select few of them.”  

Y/n recoiled at her mother’s words, her own coming out before she could stop them. “Excuse me? And who would the ‘select few of them’ be?” 

Her mother’s eyes met Y/n’s with authority, and her response was short and stern. “Yoongi.” 

“Are you serious?” Y/n gaped at her in disbelief.

“Jungkook too.” 

“I can’t believe you’re being serious right now.” Y/n shook her head, her rage beginning to bubble to the surface. 

“Y/n please listen to me-” 

“Oh yes, please! Share with the class just as to why I can’t talk to my friends.” Y/n gestured to the empty room . 

“I…” Her mother’s face fell, as did her voice. “I can’t.” 

Y/n could’ve heard a pin drop from the front door it was so silent. 

“Get out.” 

“Please, you have to just trust me-” Her mother began to plead with her. 

“No. I don’t have to do anything. You said you didn’t want to argue, yet here you are. Making decisions for everyone else and not bothering to give anyone else your reasoning.” 

“Y/n-”

“God, I was so stupid to think that maybe you had changed based off of one dinner. Nope. Now you're in my room, giving me orders and being secretive just like always.” Y/n’s voice began to rise in volume, and her mother took a cautious step towards the door. 

“That is not true. I care about you. I love you! I’m just trying to protect you,” Her mother tried to reach for her, but Y/n side-stepped out of her reach. 

“Protect me?! Protect me from what?” Y/n was so enraged, that her eyes began to water again much to her own embarrassment. 

Her mother stared into her eyes, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly. 

Y/n let out a dry laugh. “Let me guess, you can’t tell me.” 

“You wouldn’t understand-” 

“Bullshit. I would. You just don’t want to tell me.” Y/ns shoulders began to deflate. 

“That is not true.” Her mother pointed her finger at Y/n with venom. 

“Then tell me.” 

“Why can’t you just listen to me, why must you always make this so difficult.” Her mother threw her hands up into the air in exasperation. 

“ME? I’m the one being difficult?” 

“Yes!” Her mother hissed out from her clenched teeth. 

“You’re the one that sent the invitation to me!” 

“That was your father’s idea- I wanted to-” Her mother started but Y/n cut her off again.

“Oh so you don’t want me here then?”

Her mother’s eyes were alight with fury. “That is not what I said. If you’d let me finish-”

“No, actually I think I’ve heard enough. This is fucking ridicu-” 

“That is enough.” Mariah’s tone was cutting, and final. She stomped towards Y/n and gripped her upper arms in her long hands. “You will listen to me.” Y/n had never seen such rage in her mother’s eyes, not once. “Do not think that for one second turning you away all those years ago doesn’t haunt me, or that a single day went by where I didn’t think of you. You will do as I say, and you will not ask questions. I will not-” Her voice cracked, forcing her to pause. “I can not lose you again. I will not lose another child.” 

The way her mother’s eyes bore into her own, and the way her hands gripped onto Y/n's shoulders with such desperation knocked the air out of her lungs. She was still angry, yes, but she couldn’t find it in herself to yell at her mother-not when she looked so vulnerable and small in front of her. Two words she’d have never used to describe her mother. Her mother’s hands released themselves from her shoulders, and she walked herself with dragging feet towards the door and unlocked it with a trembling hand.

“I can’t tell you what to do, you’re right. But please at least try to listen to trust me, if not even just a little.” Her tired eyes looked at Y/n over her shoulder with so much defeat, that slowly morphed into one that was resolute. Distant and cold. “Keep your door locked at night. And if you think you hear your father walking around the house during the night…” Her mother paused within the threshold, debating her next words. “Don’t get out of bed, and don’t, under any circumstances, open the door.” 

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Next Chapter

Toll- Great!

Wunderbar- Wonderful!

Bitte iss! -Please eat!

[yoongleboonglepie]

Pechsträhne - Chapter 2

BTS x Reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter playlist-Youtube music

Chapter Playlist-Spotify

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A/N: Hey to the void! I will do my best to get at least 3-4 total chapters out in quick succession so there's some substance to get started. I'm also trying to break up the lore in chunks because there is a lot of it. As always, I'll be proof rereading it over and over again for any typos I missed for the next 24 hours, lol. Enjoy~ -Delyn

(Word Count approx. 10k)

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Y/n didn’t get much sleep that night. Her mothers words invading her mind every time she tried to close her eyes for her much needed sleep. She was definitely still angry with her mother, her blood boiling every time she replayed the conversation. But a nagging feeling in her gut told her there was something about what she said that had her feeling like it might do her good to listen to her mother. 

“Keep your door locked at night. And if you think you hear your father walking around the house during the night…” Her mother paused at the door debating her next words. “Don’t get out of bed, and don’t under any circumstances, open the door.” 

Y/n grumbled as she rolled over in her bed, trying once more to find any sort of comfortable position to lay in that might help her thoughts detangle themselves. She wasn’t ignorant, nor was she a fool. Every person that’s lived or worked on these grounds knows that they are occupied by more than just the living. Even their strongest and most adamant skeptics join in on their annual staff New Year’s Eve ghost story exchange by the end of their first year.

The most stubborn - a housekeeper who was hired around Y/n's 6th birthday made it nearly 7 years before she had broke. Revealing to a smug crowd that her beliefs had been challenged by the end of her first year but she couldn’t bring herself to accept it until that previous fall. She had been transferred from the hotel cleaning staff to the estates, leading to her first of many run-ins with one of Y/n's great grandmothers, Patti Wörner. Patti had died in her late 40s from cancer and loved more than anything to make her presence known in the study. Most commonly, she’s reported to be seen with her nose stuck in a book and a cigarette poised between her fingertips. She will crack a joke about the smoke being the death of her while taking another exaggerated drag of her poison of choice before vanishing. Leaving nothing behind but the lingering smell of smoke and a phantom laugh. 

But her mother was insinuating something much more dangerous than that of her late great great great grandmother’s smoking habits- it seemed the spirit's energy had continued the rising trajectory it had before she had left. The catalyst being the morning her sister had been found dead on the grounds. Y/n finds herself staring holes into her closet door where her sister's photos sit, tucked inside the jewelry box. 

Even the grounds seemed to mourn the loss of Matilda. All celebrations were canceled for the remainder of that  year. The flowers refused to bloom and the trees reluctant to bear fruit, and the spirits of the ground grew increasingly restless. For the first time in decades, the hotel was vacant of its living guests.

 The once friendly energies of passed on relatives gradually turned sour as the years went on. The last few times she had seen Patti from the corner of her eye, her brows were knit with irritation as her and the boys ran past the study doors, instead of her usual playful tone telling them to watch their step. By the time Y/n left for highschool, Patti’s laughter had been replaced with disembodied guttural coughing fits. The soldiers that they had gotten used to seeing walking calmly through the tree line were seen running across the lawn, or hiding behind shrubs with their rifles aimed at innocent passers by. The trailing sound of clinking glasses and laughter that would waft up from the dining room had blended into rushed whispers, and then an uncomfortable silence. Like they were still in there, but were too scared to speak, content with just keeping their eyes on anyone that meandered in by themselves. Technical problems became more apparent at both the Adelaide and the theater, and more and more stories began to pop up from hotel guests about feeling uneasy or watched in their rooms. Everything felt eerie instead of warm. Phantom music turned to disembodied screams and cries. Bright welcoming figures turned dark and menacing. But never had they ever gone so far as to hurt anyone or intentionally scare anyone- not that she could remember anyways.

Y/n’s thoughts wandered back to her experience on the front steps, and her heartbeat picked up speed at the memory. The way that she hadn’t been able to move her own body, and the overwhelming darkness that had taken over the hotel coming back to her. The voice, and the grip on her hand made her suspect it was her little sister’s greeting. Something she had grown accustomed to everytime she would return from a long time away. It was usually a rush as she ran by, a knock on her wall, or she would hear her giggle out on the lawn.  But never had she ever experienced anything like that here before from her sister. Something must really be very wrong. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her mind into the first layers of sleep. 

She was drifting through into the realm of unconsciousness, no longer awake but not yet asleep. Images of her friends, of her sister, and of the hotel were floating through her subconscious. Just before she could take the final leap into dreamland she was yanked back into reality by a sound down the hall. The floorboards creaked beneath the weight of a heavy footstep resounding on the landing. Y/n shot up, her blood rushing in her ears at such a volume she couldn’t tell if she could hear any other footsteps, or if it was her own mind.

“Keep your door locked at night. And if you think you hear your father walking around the house during the night. Don’t get out of bed, and don’t under any circumstances, open the door.” Heeding her mothers words with some form of will power she hadn’t known she was capable of, she laid her head back down, and closed her eyes trying to will herself to sleep. It must just be Yoongi, Hoseok said he was a night owl after all. She tried to soothe her nerves with this thought, holding onto it like a lifeline. Y/n’s body jolted in a panic at the grind of her neighbors door knob turning twice. She waited, but no door opened. The footsteps thumped to her door next, and stood right outside her threshold. She could see the shadow of the person's feet backlit by the lights casting across her floor and stretching down onto her rug from beneath the door. She watched in horror as her doorknob turned once in each direction- the metal groaning in protest with each movement. When her door did not budge, the person moved onto the door across the hall. This time however, the door knob was only heard twisting once, before the door gave way. The shuffling sound dragged its way into the room at an unbearably slow pace, and Y/n strained her ears to hear something that could calm her nerves, a sign that it was just her neighbor stumbling in after a long night- perhaps drunk and confused. It was nearly impossible to hear the rummaging of the being as they moved about her mystery neighbor’s room over her own heartbeat and nervous swallows. Her stomach churned as she heard the figure begin to mutter -a deep rumbling sound that sounded too close to her own father’s mumbles- and for a moment she feared she might throw up. But she could not move -would not move. She would not get out of bed. The footsteps retreating from the nearby room, with the door shutting painfully slow behind them. They made their way back down the hall, disappearing down the staircase. She shut her eyes as hard as she could, telling herself the sooner that she was to fall asleep, the sooner she'd be able to start hunting for answers. And as if some angel took pity on her poor, meddling soul- she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

_________________________________________

Y/n awoke abruptly to the sound of a child’s playful shriek outside her window, and the sun filtering through her curtains. She lifted her body off her mattress and her joints cracked in protest, her eyes burning from a lack of quality sleep. Fumbling for her phone she checked the time- 10:38 am. She had missed the breakfast that was usually served at the estate, so nodding to herself she decided the first plan of action would be to grab  caffeine and something to eat from the cafe in the lobby. The thought of not having to face anyone else at the breakfast table paired with the idea of having some time to herself not locked up in her room giving her a bit of pep in her step. Pulling on something warm enough to combat the early spring chill but cool enough to move around freely, she took a few extra minutes to freshen up and make herself look more alive. Checking to make sure she had her phone and her wallet, she unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway. Her eyes caught on a small sticky note as it fluttered to the floor from its previous spot on her door, lines of what was clearly in Hoseok’s scribbled writing sprawled across the green paper. 

“You missed breakfast sleepy head :p

Be sure to get something to eat from the hotel. If you don’t sleep the day away, Jimin has a few more tours at 10:15, 11:30, 12:45, and 1. No one has let it slip that you’re here, but he’s figured out there’s a surprise because Namjoon can’t keep a secret to save his life -_-.  Because of that, he hasn’t shut up with the nagging. For the rest of our sake, please try and go on one of the tours before his lunch break at 2. Just talk to Jin at the desk and he can get you on the roster for whichever one you want.

Sincerely, your second ex husband <3”

Y/n shook her head with a laugh and made her way down the hall, taking note that if she were to join the 11:30 tour, she needed to get moving. She skipped down the stairs and went straight out the front door, choosing not to dilly dally in the halls for too long in fear of coming face to face with whatever had been outside her door last night. By the time she made it to the courtyard, she let herself feel excited to be back. The prospect of seeing the rest of her friends making her giddy, choosing to focus on that and not her aggravating mother. She waved to a few of the hotel guests on their way to their courtyard side rooms and slipped through the hall back to the upper lobby. She made quick work of the tiled floors, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that she wasn’t sure where Jimin’s early tours were, and she didn’t want to spoil the surprise by loitering about the lobby. 

The Edelweis pulled her in with the smell of freshly brewed coffee, sweet pastries and savory breakfast sandwiches. Its brown leather stools lining the counter were half full, but the tables had been mostly deserted by now -the morning rush for a Friday long gone. She hesitated at the counter, her eyes scanning the menu. Debating between something sweet or something savory when the young person at the counter perked up. 

“The usual?” They asked. 

Y/n began to shyly turn, worried she was being mistaken for someone else, when a gravelly voice cut her off. 

“Yes, please. Thank you.” 

The worker nodded and began to prepare a drink, pouring ice into a large cup and rounding over to the espresso machine. Y/n turned her attention away from the menu to glance at the man standing several feet away, his long fingers tapping against the counter near the register. His black hair was long,  and curled around his pierced ears and down the nape of his pale neck. He was a bit more lanky than Namjoon and Jungkook, but not at all what she'd consider weak. He was wearing a red two piece utility suit with a white undershirt peeking out from where he left the first few buttons undone, the long red sleeves rolled up to his elbows that he now shifted to rest on the counter. 

Yoongi, She realized. She was unsure what to do. Surely her mom didn’t mean she couldn’t interact with him at all, but after seeing that her words held some truth after her experience last night- she hesitated. She also could not shake the feeling of wanting to deliberately go against her mother’s rules, the grudge she held from their now two arguments as strong as ever. She pried her eyes from his back, returning them to the menu. Settling on a sweeter coffee and a savory breakfast, she took a step closer to the counter, willing her eyes to keep from straying to the man next to her as she decided whether or not to take her mom’s advice.

She heard him sharply exhale, before his head turned to face her. She could feel his onyx eyes scanning her face, and saw his tongue push against his cheek as if he was already on to her efforts to ignore his presence for as long as possible. He had always had a knack for having keen eyes, and seeing through people’s bullshit. 

“No warm welcome for me, huh?” Even though his words seemed sharp, his eyes held a humorous glint in them as they tried to catch her own. 

“Oh…hi!” She laughed awkwardly, fiddling with her shirt to keep herself calm. 

He chuckled to himself, and shifted his weight so he was leaning on only one arm, sizing Y/n up with his gaze. Shaking his head of his own thoughts, he stood straight to accept his iced drink from the employee with a polite nod of his head. 

In what Y/n decided must be him matching her energy, he didn’t spare her a glance as he turned and exited the entrance of the cafe. Panicked, Y/n tried to wave her hand to get his attention.

“H-hey! Wait! Aren’t you going to pay for your drink?” Her eyes darted nervously between the confused worker and Yoongi’s retreating figure. 

Turning around to face her, his feet still moving backwards into the lobby. “4 years and you forget how everything works, huh? We live here. We, “ he gestured with his finger between the two of them “Don’t have to pay for anything.” Y/n flushed at his teasing tone. She had forgotten about that having gotten used to living elsewhere, glancing down at her wallet that she held ready in her hand and back up at him bashfully. He barked out a laugh and skipped to the elevator to catch the doors before they closed. A guest held them open for him to slip through which he did so gratefully, and leaned over to press the button to his floor. With a sip of his drink and a lazy two fingered salute, the doors closed, removing him from her line of sight.

Y/n ordered her drink and a breakfast sandwich, her cheeks still red in embarrassment from her interaction with Yoongi, and from the worker assuring her multiple times  that it was in fact normal for her not to pay. Y/n occupied herself at one of the empty tables while she waited for them to bring her order out by thinking about Jimin’s tour. Pursing her lips, she concluded that since she hadn’t seen any tour groups being herded around the lobby, that with the arrival of early spring, they must have started doing outdoor tours of the grounds already. By the time she got her order she only had five minutes to scarf down the sandwich, and drank her coffee on the way to the front doors of the hotel. Stopping at the desk to say good morning to Jin and request to add her name to the next tour roster, he smiled and obliged- thanking her profusely for choosing an earlier tour. “If he tried to ask me one more time what the surprise was, I might have accidentally pushed him down the front steps.” he joked, as he hand wrote her name in neat penmanship  at the bottom of the printed clipboard he had stacked on the shelf below the desk to his right. 

Once on the front porch, she surveyed the grounds, finding a small group of about a dozen people waiting down by the front gates. She took the stairs carefully so as not to spill her beverage, and picked up the pace to hustle down the gravel path. She was hoping to get there before Jimin did so she could easily blend into the crowd. By the time she reached the forming tour group, she was slightly out of breath and had barely a minute to spare before the tour was supposed to begin. Choosing to spend the time checking her notifications on her phone, she added giving her notice at her current part-time job, and calling one of her roommates to let them know she was going to be MIA for some unknown amount of time to her mental to-do list. She had to sit down and ask herself how long she was going to stay, but in all honesty she didn’t see herself leaving anytime soon. Whatever was going on with the ghosts, Yoongi, Jungkook, and her mother piqued her curiosity. If she was already here, she might as well try to weasel answers and any sort of apology or explanation from her mother. 

“Alright, good morning everyone! Can I have your attention?” A slightly winded Jimin jogged up from the driveway and around the gate, the clipboard from Jin’s desk gripped in the hand that wasn’t raised up in the air to guide people's attention to him. He was wearing a red long sleeve cotton shirt with the hotel’s logo printed on his chest, cargo shorts, and laced up hiking boots. His hair had been dyed a dirty blond, but his brown roots still poked through. 

The gaggle of people ceased their conversations and formed a clumsy semi circle around him as he quickly read through the roster. His eyes nearly bulged out of his skull as his head snapped up to look through the crowd, finding her face in an instant. His face split into an overjoyed grin, the energy he had lost from running from the lobby returning to him. In an effort to contain his own excitement, he spoke to the crowd with a newfound vigor, running through their names as quickly as he could. He didn’t bother reading her name out, whether it was because he knew she was accounted for or if it was to spare her from any of the other group members' interrogation she wasn’t sure. 

“Thank you for joining us for a tour of the Wörner Hotel and Estate this fine morning. My name is Jimin Park. You can call me Jimin, Mr. Park, J, or any combination of those. The only thing that’s off limits is Jim -call me that and I’ll tell housekeeping to hide all your bath towels.” A few chuckles resounded from the crowd and he continued. “I’ll be your tour guide for the next hour or so, so I hope you have your listening ears ready and your walking shoes on. We cover a lot of ground and a lot of history in that hour, so if you have any questions, I will have designated time for you to ask them periodically throughout the tour. If we run out of time, you can ask me inbetween locations, or at the end of the tour. Any questions before we get started?” He scanned the crowd, for any raised hands. 

“Awesome, let's go then.” 

Jimin led the group through the gates back down the gravel pathway, stopping about halfway before beginning his script. “The hotel opened its doors in 1875, under the owners Matthäus and Felizitas Wörner. They had designed the hotel to resemble other hotels and opera houses being built in Germany and Switzerland at the time, while taking inspiration from the colonial style surrounding them in the States.” He placed his hands behind his back and began to pace leisurely in front of the group. “Matthäus had been born into a wealthy family, and some of that family had moved to Pennsylvania in the mid 1840s, where he and his pregnant wife eventually followed suit with the intention of opening a hotel in approximately 1855. Now- if you’re from around here, or are from the United States in general, you have a pretty good idea of what exactly was going on here politically during the 1860s. The civil war had only just ended 3 years prior, with one of the deadliest and most influential battles taking place in the neighboring town of Gettysburg. So by the time it started, he left his wife and first born child Freidrich behind to fight. A lot of people assume that the people that fought in the war were U.S citizens, but actually a fourth if not a third of the entire Union Army were foreigners- more specifically Irish and German immigrants. Matthäus was one of those soldiers. If you look here to your right at this plaque, you can see a photo of the man himself in uniform.” Jimin gestured to a stout stone plaque alongside the gravel driveway that harbored a short description of Matthäus, and a black and white grainy photo of his tall stocky frame, clad in uniform and a rifle leant up against his thigh. His eyes clear, gazing diagonally from the camera, sideburns and a scruffy beard vining out from below his military cap.

“Now you may be wondering to yourself ‘Man, why are we talking about the civil war again? Is that all people talk about around here? What does this have to do with anything?’ and to that  I have two answers. One: Seriously, why did you come anywhere remotely near Gettysburg if you really didn’t want to hear anything about the civil war? And two: because that was one of the main reasons Matthäus chose this area to build. He was stationed in Gettysburg during the battle, and fought near Little Round Top. He had seen an insurmountable amount of death and suffering on those battlefields and lost many comrades. Once the war had ended, he and his wife picked up where they had left off, planning and drawing up designs for this very hotel. When it came down to where, he had told her he wanted to bring a space where everyone felt safe and welcomed to a place that didn’t have one. To create a beacon of light in an area that had been plagued with so much darkness. So he chose a plot of land as close to Gettysburg as he could while still having the natural appeal that he had wanted, and construction began.” Jimin continued his steps up to the base of the staircase, and the group staggered in behind him. “On this section of brick right here,” He bent over and gestured with two fingers, “you can see the handprints of his wife, two children -Freidrich and Hadwin- and himself in the cement. An ode to his wife and children for being there for him while he fulfilled his dreams, as well as his wishes for this hotel to remain a family legacy. Which clearly, have been fulfilled with seven -nearly eight- generations of Wörner sons and their wives living in and running these very grounds.” He stood and took a step back to let people take turns looking at the brick, some even holding their own hands up to the imprints to compare. 

“The tradition of each family member leaving their mark on the hotel has been passed down to today's current Wörner generation.” He sent a wink in Y/n's direction, and she gave him a humorous look. “I won’t spoil all of them for you right away, because where’s the fun in that? There are over 30 distinct ways each person left something behind, and if you find all of them, you can report them to me or any one of the other tour guides and earn yourself a coupon for a free dinner at the Adelaide, on us.” He waited for everyone in the group to inspect the handprints before rubbing his hands together. “Alright, any questions so far?” 

One person's hand rose from the front, and Jimin gestured with his own for them to speak. 

“Is the Adelaide itself counted as one of “the marks” since it’s named after Adelaide Wörner herself?” A young woman, holding the hand of a disinterested child spoke up.

“Good question! Yes, it is. So be sure to remember that. Most people overlook that one since it’s not as tangible as the handprints- I’m glad I’ve got a clever group with me today.” He gave her a wink, and the woman blushed. 

Another hand popped up, a young woman with someone who Y/n could only assume was her husband, both holding one of the lobby’s hotel information pamphlets. 

“Yes!’ Jimin pointed at them and promptly turned his body to face them.

“Why was it only the sons that inherited the Hotel? Is it true that Adelaide was technically supposed to inherit it from Matthäus's son instead of her brother?” 

Y/n’s eyes wavered as she flickered them back to Jimin, who ignored her gaze, keeping his settled on the woman and her husband. 

“We can not be one hundred percent sure, but it’s true that Friedrich I had pondered the idea of leaving the hotel to her in his personal writings, as he had thought of her as the best fit. But in the late 1800’s the idea of a woman running a business was unheard of. And so after some time he had returned to offering it to his sons, Ernst and Friedrich II. Choosing instead to name the restaurant in her honor.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “The concept of one of the Women in the Wörner taking ownership of the hotel has only been debated two other times. Once in the generation after Adelaide, as her brother Ernst had only had daughters for nearly a decade before his son was born, and Friedrich II had chosen to forfeit ownership of the hotel in favor of moving westward. And the third-” He cut himself off looking straight through Y/n “-Well, they haven’t decided yet.” 

One more hand popped up, a father of a group of 4. “You in the back, go ahead.” 

The man gave a large grin to his children and scowling wife, and faced Jimin with shining eyes. 

“Is this place haunted?” 

She saw Jimin resist rolling his eyes as he opened his mouth to answer his least favorite question. 

After he (reluctantly) answered the man with a “Depends on who you ask”- Jimin had dragged their tour group up and down the property, through some of the smaller walking trails, around the edges of the estate, into the courtyard, and back around the property to the gardens. An almost full hour where he fit about as much as he could about the building and the 7 main generations of Wörners while still answering the random questions people threw his way. Y/n waited off to the side, as Jimin who any other time would love the predicament he’s in: cornered by a well meaning guest who genuinely just wants to ask questions that he can dump answers onto. But right now Y/n watched him give short answers and inch away in her direction. When the older couple finally backed off, he practically jumped onto Y/n with such force that he almost knocked the both of them over. 

“I can’t believe you’d do that to me, surprise me on the job when I can’t stop and say hi. How cruel~” He whined dramatically into her shoulder as he swayed them back and forth. 

“It was Hoseok’s idea, not mine.” She hugged him back tightly, he had always been very easy for her to be affectionate with, with that being his preferred form of affection. When not occupied he practically hung off of anyone he could get his hands on. His head was always thrown on whoever’s lap or shoulder he was closest too, and he avoided doing anything by himself since she could remember- having been dragged into one of his shenanigans more times than she could count. He released her from his rib cracking hug, clear offense written on his face.

“I knew he would be behind this- he better watch his back, I’m going to get’ em.” Jimin playfully tussled two fists in the air and gave one quick punch. 

“I’m sure you are,” Y/n snickered and grabbed his fists pushing them down. “ -Great tour by the way. “ She tried to steer the conversation away from Hoseok in hopes of sparing him, if not just a little. 

He preened at the compliment, and bashfully smiled. “Ah, thank you. I’ve worked hard to learn the ins and outs of this place, while still making it digestible and not boring to my patrons.” He gasped and grabbed her arm. “Does this mean that everything got figured out with your parents? Are you ya know…” He glanced over both shoulders suspiciously, and Y/n cut him off. 

“Uh, not exactly. They haven’t brought up anything relating to the argument yet.” 

His shoulders shrunk in on themselves, and he rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” 

“No it’s fine, you didn’t know.” She caught Jimin looking at the lobby doors and back to his watch with dejected eyes. “You got another tour to catch, right?” 

“Unfortunately. Property tours are my favorite, but I’d rather kick rocks than do that right now. Meet me for lunch today so we can catch up? I get off at 2. Unless you have something else planned..?” He gave her a hopeful look. 

“Nope, I’m all yours.” She gave him her best smile which he returned. 

“See you then!~” He sang as he ran up the front steps, taking them two at a time. 

_________________________________________

While she waited for 2pm to roll around, she busied herself by checking things off of her to-do list, using it as an excuse to enjoy the large garden seating area to the left side of the hotel. She submitted her resignation to her part-time customer service  job with a brief explanation- to which her manager simply responded with a thumbs up. She wasn’t sure if they had fully read her message, or if they genuinely just didn’t care. She assumed the latter, they’d probably have a new replacement by tomorrow. The discussion with her roommates was a bit more complicated. Even though she promised to pay her portion of the rent, they insisted that she either come back by the end of the next week or move out. She huffed out in agitation. They have been probably waiting for a reason to kick her out of their lease agreement, she thought to herself. Well, whatever they want then. There won't be anyone left to clean all of their dirty dishes, and no produce for them to steal. She told them as much, along with a short, I’ll be by to clean out my stuff by the end of next week. A promise she wasn’t sure how to fulfil- surely she could drag Hoseok and ask a few of the other boys to help her.

Making a list on her phone of what she owned from the shared space off of the top of her head, she took notice of the time nearing closer to two, and closed her phone. Rising from her seat, she traipsed through the garden paths and up the front steps to the lobby where she assumed she would meet Jimin after he ended his last tour. And she assumed correctly, she could already see him handing Jin the last clipboard while they shared a few words, looking a bit washed out and tired. As she approached, Jimin’s ears perked up in her direction and she saw him lean in to excitedly tell Jin something- who just rolled his eyes in response. 

“Ready for lunch?” Y/n stopped a few feet away, and bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement. While she should feel nervous about her roommates and her other real world problems, she couldn’t lie that the idea of leaving them behind in the dust didn’t make her day a little bit brighter. Despite the nerves curling in her stomach at the prospect of rekindling another friendship.

“More than you know,” he spun around with an exaggerated groan and grasped one of her hands in one of his own. “I’ve walked probably 10 miles already today, I’m starving, and to top it off: no one had any interesting questions in any of my last few tours.” He pouted as he pulled her towards the double staircases and away from Jin. She barely managed to give the poor man behind the desk a wave before she couldn’t safely look at him in fear of falling down the stairs. 

“Were they actually boring questions, or were you just impatient to get off of work?” She side eyed him as he continued lugging her across the upper lobby and down the red carpeted hall to the Adelaide. Photos of all of their esteemed musical guests were preserved, from jazz and big band: to orchestral, opera and ballet performers from the downstairs theater were framed and hung on the wall. Her favorite, a photo of both her Great grandfather, her grandfather, Yoongi’s grandfather (their pianist back in the day) with a toddler aged Mr. Jung in his arms, all posing next to Sinatra himself, whose signature was scrawled in black ink in the bottom corner. 

“Touché.” He laughed. He held two fingers up to the host who stood wearing a bored expression at the podium. He gave them a disinterested nod and led them through the extravagant red doors to the seating area. The inside of the Adelaide looked like a red speakeasy in design, but a dining reception hall built for a wedding in size. A fully stocked wooden bar was nestled into the front left corner, with the bar counter curving around to create two separate areas of stool seating. The lights were always kept dim enough to not make the room size not seem too daunting and keep up with an intimate vintage atmosphere. The restaurant wasn’t empty with other families and couples having the same idea to enjoy a late lunch after all of their early morning activities, but it wasn’t too busy either with it being too early for the Friday night dinner rush to start. The back wall was completely taken up by a rather large wooden platform stage flanked with lush red velvet curtains. The mics were all set up on the stage, but no one was currently performing. The piano lid closed, and the lights mostly turned off. Billie Holiday was crooning from the speakers above, creating a nice relaxed atmosphere. They passed a few patrons that waved kindly to Jimin, and he waved back with a friendly smile. Y/n recognized one of them as the elderly couple that was on her tour that same morning.

They were taken to a table closer to the back near the empty stage. Jimin excused the host boy gently with a quick thanks, and waited for Y/n to take her seat so that he could push in her chair for her before seating himself. Jimin opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by their waitress stopping in to introduce herself and give them each a glass of water. She passed out two menus and Jimin ordered two lavender lemonade mocktails- A drink they used to share together when she’d return from her in school housing for the summer in their teenage years, giggling and pretending it was something much more sophisticated.

“So, what brought you back?” Jimin’s warm brown eyes peeked up at her from the rim of his glass of water.

“The hotel anniversary I guess. My mom sent me-well I guess actually my Dad- sent me an invitation.” Y/n fiddled with her glass, passing it around in her hands. 

“And you just accepted it?” He placed his class down with wide eyes. "Honestly after that last Christmas I thought you wouldn’t be back without an attorney or something.” He was only half joking when he said it, not bothering to scan his menu and placing it at the edge of their table. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking, if I was even thinking at all. I just got the letter and hopped on the first train here like I was possessed or something.” Y/n mused, turning her eyes downcast to scan her own menu.

“Just like that?” He asked incredulously, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t read. 

Y/n nibbled on her lip, not looking up from her menu. “Yeah. I guess just like that.” She mumbled.

He hummed in thought and draped his arm across the back of his chair, his eyes following the movement of something over her shoulder. Glancing up at him she assumed it was the waitress, and quickly looked back at her menu to decide on what to get before she made it to their table. When she waited about a minute and the waitress still hadn’t shown, she looked back up at Jimin to still see him lost in thought, his eyes still entranced by something over her shoulder. Following his gaze, she found nothing but the door to the kitchen- only a single port hole window looking in or out. 

“What are you thinking about?” Y/n coaxes his attention back to her with her words, he seemed to jump out of whatever trance he was in and turned to her with a reserved smile. 

“Sorry, I was thinking about a question someone asked me today.” He chuckled. 

“Yeah? Which one would that be? I thought you said no one asked any interesting questions?” She chided, bumping his shoulder with her own. 

His answer was cut short by the waitress again, who gave them an effortless smile as she placed their drinks in front of them. The nostalgic flavor combination pulled a gentle smile to Y/n’s face as she instantly took a quick sip.

“Everyone ready to order or do you need a few more minutes?” She asked politely. 

“I think we are ready.” Jimin raised his eyebrows at Y/n, gesturing for her to go first.

Y/n glanced down at her menu and ordered the first thing she saw- Fresh pasta tossed in an aurora sauce. Jimin ordered a red pepper marinated steak of some kind, and the waitress whisked their menus away gracefully. 

“So, what was the question?” Y/n inquired. 

Jimin dismisses the question with a wave of his hand. “Eh, it’s not that important. What’s more important is how you answer my question first,” he gave her a small playful shove, “Which is:  why you ignored me for four years but all your parents had to do was send one invitation for you to come back. If I would’ve known that would be all it took,  I would’ve sent you one by the end of your first week.”

“Ignored you? Me?” Y/n scoffed dramatically, “Never.” 

He laughed softly, and his eyes shifted slightly in the dim lighting. Y/n had realized yet again that he was only half joking- his tell tale sign that he was testing the waters of a more meaningful discussion. Almost herding the conversation into a specific direction but never actually getting there, trying to read the other party's reaction first. 

Y/n puffed out a reluctant sigh, and followed his lead. She had ignored them, and he wanted to talk about it. Y/n reached over and grabbed his hand that was resting on the table. “Look Jimin, I’m sorry that you got caught in the crossfire of whatever is going on with me and my parents. I’m sorry that all of you did. I wish I would’ve reached out to you guys to give each of you a chance to explain yourselves. I’m sure there was a reason they told you not to tell me- and however stupid or unreasonable I think that reason is-I shouldn’t have let it come between me and all of my friends.” 

His usual cheery demeanor seemed to melt away, revealing the rare other side of him that is much more calm, sharp, and insightful. His eyes never left hers as he brought his lemonade to his lips, savoring the flavor for a moment, and placing it back on the table with a gentle clink. 

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” He halted his words, letting them sink in. He didn’t want her to stew on them too long before he continued. “But that’s not where I was going with my question. I don’t blame you- not fully anyway. What your parents had pulled was shitty, point blank. Especially letting it unfold in front of everyone like that. We know-” He stopped abruptly, but inspecting Y/n’s expectant face he continued. “We know a lot more behind-the-scenes stuff than you give us credit for. So don’t beat yourself up.” 

“We?” Y/n pushed, she felt like she was on the precipice of something. “And what kind of stuff?”

He ignored her question, and asked his own one more time. “Why did you come back Y/n?”  

Her eyes couldn't decide which of his to look at , and quivered back and forth under his scrutinizing gaze. 

“I don’t know.” She emphasized each word, rolling them from her tongue slowly. 

He ran his hand through his messy hair and his eyes flickered nervously about the room. “I figured as much.” 

“Jimin, you’re acting weird and secretive and it’s freaking me out. What’s going on? Who is ‘we’?”

“I’m afraid I’ve already said more than I should.” He leaned back in his chair again, his eyes flashing to the kitchen door then back to hers. 

Y/n’s heart dropped into her stomach, the old scars of betrayal feeling poked and prodded at. “What is this, did my mom tell you not to say something? Please talk to me, Jimin.” 

He ignored her question again, and the waitress returned with their plates. The food looked like it came out of a magazine and if it had been any other day she would have devoured it, but Y/n’s appetite had diminished to nothing. As if reading the energy at their table, the waitress didn’t stay for very long- she practically scurried away the second the plates hit the table top. 

Jimin picked up his fork, but hesitated to begin eating. His eyes inspected every inch of her face, and then he spoke again. 

“I wish I could tell you, Y/n. I really do. But if I’m being honest, I don't know all of the details yet either. Just the ones that I’ve been able to piece together with what has traveled down the grapevine. I don’t have parents that were close to yours to gossip back to me about all the goings on at the estate like some of the other guys do.” He finally cut a piece off of his steak and took his first bite, chewing slowly. 

Y/n didn’t know how to answer what he was saying- it was all confusing her even further. What did he know that she didn’t? And most importantly, what did the others know that he didn’t. 

He took another bite, his gaze shifted back to the kitchen door and then returned to her for the umpteenth time.

“You want to know what question I can’t get out of my head from the tour today?” 

Y/n perked up a margin, at least he was answering one of her questions even if it wasn’t one of the ones she really wanted him to answer. 

He took her lack of protest as his sign to keep going. “Well actually there’s two questions I can’t stop thinking about, but I think I might know someone that can help me find those answers.” He said the last half of his sentence very slowly, his eyes trying to convey a message to Y/n that she didn’t understand.  “The first being the question that woman had asked me on the tour you were on today. The question about why the hotel and estate hasn’t been given to one of the daughters yet, specifically….. Adelaide.” His hand made an exaggerated gesture to the restaurant, but he made an extra point to take his time pointing in her own direction. “I can’t seem to figure out all the details to that one.” His eyes bore into hers- he was trying to tell her something without saying it outloud with each word he emphasised, and he had been this entire time. The surefire Jimin way to find a loophole to one of their parents’ rules: To say it without saying it. Something the two of them had done a lot of as teenagers. “The second question” -He picked up where he left off- “Being the one that’s constantly plaguing me and my patrons.” He leaned over the table to get as close to her as he could, his voice barely above a whisper. “‘Is this place haunted?’”. 

His gaze was so intense, Y/n felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Her brain was having trouble focusing with how close he was to her, and the way he was burning holes into her skull as if trying to beam what he wanted to say straight into her brain. 

Think! She chastised herself. He’s telling you in the only way he can.

There was so much of everything yet nothing in this conversation. She pinched the bridge of her nose and replayed his words again.  “The question about why the hotel and estate hasn’t been given to one of the daughters yet, specifically….. Adelaide”. He wasn’t talking about Adelaide at all, he was talking about her, she realized -putting together the emphasis and his gesture. Recognition shone in her eyes as she snapped her gaze back to his, the shadow of an encouraging smile stretching across his lips.   “But I think I might know someone that can help me find those answers.”  

“Who?” She croaked. 

“Who what?” He tilted his head and went to scratch his neck.

“Who do you think would best answer your questions about…” Y/n hesitated. “…Adelaide?” Y/n shivered suddenly feeling like there were eyes on her from all directions, similar to how she felt  out front yesterday. Trying to look more natural, she forked some pasta into her mouth and chewed robotically. She couldn’t care less about her lunch anymore. 

Jimin’s cheerful demeanor came back tenfold, bordering on too nice. “Oh why, that’d be Yoongi of course, I may know the history of this place but he’s good at offering a nuanced perspective. Enough about work and the hotel though. I want to hear about you.” Y/n knew that meant she wasn’t getting any more out of him at the moment, but it was more than anyone else had given to her in the past four years. 

Fuck what her mom said, and whatever reasoning she thought she had. Y/n will compromise with her mom whether or not she wants to-  a taste of her own medicine.  She will keep her door locked at night, just like she had told her to. But Y/n had already made up her mind by the time Jimin stabbed his fork into his next bite. She needed to talk to Yoongi.

_________________________________________

December 25th, four years prior

The room echoed with laughter and joyful conversation. The room decked floor to ceiling in lights, garland and antique holiday decor. The dining room table had been extended to its full length from nearly wall to wall to accommodate everyone who had come home, dinner had been served well over an hour ago, but the revelry still marched on. Their early 1900s upright phonograph spinning Nat King Cole’s holiday record at a comfortable volume, was barely heard over the merry atmosphere of those around the table. Mr Jung and Mr. Jeon’s cheeks were both  flushed from probably their 5th glass of wine, and both of them leaned up against the phonograph. They had designated themselves as the ones to crank the machine when needed, stating that the spot  gave them the perfect view of the family to coo at all of their adult children and how much they’d grown. Some -including Y/n herself- enjoying her first Christmas as a legal drinker, which led both older men down the spiral of tossing their favorite stories of each of the young adults as children.  Jungkook was hanging off of Yoongi and Hoseok, the both of them teaching the former how to take shots and laughing at the faces the youngest would make as the liquid burned his throat. The mothers: Mrs. Jung, Mrs. Wörner, Mrs. Min and Mrs. Kim were sitting near each other huddled about the end of the table, picking at what was left on their plates as they placed bets on which one of their husbands would be the drunkest. They erupted like a group of giggling school girls when Mr. Min stumbled in to place a large kiss on his wife’s cheek, slurring out that he was going to find Mr. Kim  who had wandered into the kitchen moments earlier to find more wine. Y/n’s father was sitting near her mother, a hand on her knee, relishing in the sight of the house being alive. Amelia and Namjoon were comparing different colleges for Namjoon to go to while a very tipsy Jin would swirl his glass and ask nonsensical questions about each one they showed him pictures of. “But do they allow dogs?” He asked like it was the most obvious question in the world. 

“I don’t have a dog.” Namjoon would sigh. 

“That wasn’t my question.”

Y/n laughed at Jin’s probably hundredth interruption to her left, and turned to her brother Roland who was playing toy figurines with Jimin on her right hand side. She watched the little Paw Patrol dogs waddle back and forth across the table as their story unfolded, one of the dogs in her brother’s hands imitating what she could only assume was a breakdancing meets acrobatics routine. She looked up from the “dance” as Hoseok patted her on the shoulder when he passed with a sly “You should join us for the next round” to which she nodded, and he excused himself to the bathroom with a happy heart shaped smile.

“What a great performance from Trouble!-” Jimin’s squeaky high-pitched tone was cut off by her brother’s stern voice correcting him “It’s Rubble.” 

“My apologies,” Jimin’s voice dropped to his normal level before jumping back up. “Here comes the owner of the hotel to welcome our final and most prestigious performer!” 

Her brother’s hand hovered over the pink suited dog that she had always used when she played with him since Roland had assigned that to her as her designated dog. He picked her up momentarily before dropping it, instead choosing to grab the small brown dog he used for himself. 

“Mr. Roland Wörner! The best owner the hotel has ever seen!” Roland did his best attempt at mimicking Jimin’s announcer voice, and flew his brown dog through the air to land on their makeshift stage. Y/n laughed and joined in, picking up the pink dog and landing it on the stage to interact with his toy. 

“Nuh uh. You know this hotel is mine.” She did her best tiny voice, jokingly moving her dog in an offended circle. 

“No, it’s mine!” Roland’s fake deep voice pointed at her, his toy playfully kicking her dog off the stage. 

“No way Jose. Says who?” Y/n could hardly contain her giggles. 

Roland looked up with real confusion on his face, his brows furrowed together innocently. “Yes way, Mom and Dad said so.”

Y/n’s laughter trickled down, the fruity cocktail  in her system making her more lax with his silly  antics. “No way bud. I start apprenticing next year and everything. Guess you should’ve been born earlier, sucks to suck. “ She stuck her tongue out playfully, and tried to keep playing with him. Instead he ripped the dog out of her hand and huffed. 

“I’m being serious, Ente.” The way he used her nickname that was saved only for her siblings with such seriousness and a defiant glare had the beginning prickles of irritation settling under her skin.  Jimin gave a puzzled look between the two of them, and slowly put the toy dalmatian down on the table. 

“Alright cut it out Küken, it’s not funny.” She refuted, and folded her arms. 

“I’m not being funny! Mom and Dad said so!” He began to yell at her, gathering the attention of others at the table. Her father’s voice called to him from their mother’s side.

“Whatever nonsense you two are getting up to, you better knock it off.” Her father was trying to remain jovial, but they could see the authoritative glint in his eye. 

“Tell her, Dad. She said she’s still getting the hotel instead of me.” Roland’s eyes began to water as he looked up at their father. He genuinely believed this, Y/n realized with a quiet laugh. She waited for her dad to correct him. But it never came.

Instead, all conversation in the dining room ceased until the only sound was the scratchy singing of the old record. Even the drunken rummaging of Mr. Kim and Mr.Min from the kitchen could no longer be heard. Y/n stared expectantly at her parents, her fingers began to drum against where she had crossed them against her forearms. Her parents shared a look at each other that had Y/n’s blood pressure rising.

“Well?” Y/n egged her parents on. “Dad?”. The man in question seemed to be frozen, his mouth partially open and his eye’s unreadable. 

It was her mom that spoke up instead. 

“We were going to tell you after the holidays.” Her voice was low and annoyingly controlled, as if she was trying to qualm a cornered animal. 

“Tell me what?” Y/n let her gaze run across every face in the room. Namjoon and her sister were sharing a look of uncertainty. Jin was apparently enamoured with watching the bubbles in his glass move about as he twisted it. No one would look at her, except for Yoongi who’s black eyes couldn’t decide whether to look at her or her parents. But the rest didn’t have to look at her, she could see it on their faces. They were pitying her. They must have known. 

She repeated her question with more force, becoming a demand. “Tell. Me. What.”

“Let’s not do this here, we are having such a good time-” Her mother tried to change the subject, but no one moved. 

“We were having a good time, but not anymore. Tell me now. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’m the last to know.” Her face burned with anger or embarrassment but she couldn’t tell which just yet. Her dad still hadn’t moved. His muscles were taut and rigid. 

“Y/n, we decided that it might be best if we followed tradition and left the hotel to your brother.” 

Y/n couldn’t breathe. Everything she had wanted and waited for, gone in a matter of seconds. 

“What tradition? He just turned 7 a few months ago. You can’t just-” 

“Y/n it’s tradition.” Her mother’s tone was stern, but her eyes were shining with unshed tears. 

“A stupid one, you both said so yourself when we decided it’d be me over a decade ago.” Y/n countered and she leaned forward to grip the burgundy tablecloth between her fingers to ground herself. This couldn’t be happening. This can’t be happening. 

“Well Y/n it’s always been a Wörner that ran the hotel. What if you get married?” Her mother’s voice was growing hoarse, but she wouldn’t let a single tear fall. 

“ Then I don’t change my last name if I marry a man! I marry a woman and she takes mine! I don’t marry at all so no one has to do anything! There are so many ways around that. What kind of dumb excuse is this? Is this some sort of sick joke?” Her eyes were burning with her own pooling tears, that would surely spill over in seconds with how quickly they filled her lash line. 

Her mother opened her mouth in defeat, turning to her father for help but he remained unmoving. Her mother dropped her face in her hands and held it there, shaking it slowly. 

“What about you? Are you going to say anything dad? Anything at all?” Y/n eye’s turned wild as she rained her anger onto him. She had only ever seen this look in his eyes a few times. Her grandmother's funeral, and when her sister had died. He was shutting down. “I thought that we-” her voice broke. “I thought that this was our dream. You and I, working together on the hotel until it was my turn. All of those meetings, all of the lessons. All of the times you promised me that I’d get my chance. What about all of that? Does that not hold any weight against this tradition?” Her tears were flowing freely down her face by this point. She felt Jimin’s hand grip her elbow with so much gentleness it almost hurt more than if he had slapped her. 

To her ever growing fury, her dad continued to stay in his state of reticence. He was giving her nothing. He wouldn’t even look at her anymore. 

“What about all of you- how long have you all been lying to me?” She swept her hand around the room of people she thought she could trust. Her eyes only found ashamed sideways glances and the tops of people's heads as they looked down. 

“It was my idea.” Her mother’s muffled voice pierced through her entire being. “Don’t yell at your father, or anyone else. Be angry with me.” She raised her head from her hands and fixed her line of sight back on Y/n.

“Are you serious?” Y/n’s wrath consumed every fiber of her being, forcing her body to tear her arm from Jimin’s grasp as she jerked to her feet. Her cocktail worked overtime to keep her from exploding right there and then.

“I don’t think you can handle it. I mean, look at the way you’re responding to this conversation. We were having such a good holiday and you-” Her voice faltered , but with a shake of her head an unwavering look took over. She stood and rounded the table to come face to face with her daughter. “You ruined it. You lack the control it would take to handle the pressure of it all. You are too emotional. You are weak. We can start over with your brother. You, on the other hand, are too far gone to fix.” 

“You said that I could be the first-” Y/n shook her head, as if trying to will herself to wake up from a terrible nightmare.

Her mother cut her off. “Don’t be such a guileless child. They would never take a woman seriously as an owner. It’s time to stop day-dreaming and take a step into reality Y/n.” 

With each word, her heart shattered. They were sharp, cutting into her bones and burrowing deep inside her chest. They used to tell her that her strong emotions were tools that gave her power and made her intelligent, and here they were- ripping up a doll they had sewn together with their own hands,  blaming the doll for the way it looked. She tried to find any sort of remorse in her mother’s eyes- a fraction of the mother that used to say she believed in her every day. Who told her how proud she’d be to have her daughter be the first woman in charge of the hotel. She wasn’t there. Her eyes were empty, decided and cold. 

Y/n staggered back, unable to contain the sob that ripped from her chest as she fumbled for the door. 

“Fine. If you truly think that way, I will just go. You all can go back to your wonderful Christmas. ” Her hands slipped on the handle, and she had to reach for it again. Opening it felt like she was pulling a hundred pounds of weight with how numb her body felt. “Don’t expect me to come back then since I’m such a terrible fuck-up. I’ll spare you of having to try and ‘fix me’”.  She slammed the door behind her, and started down the hall. 

_________________________________________

_________________________________________

Ente-Duck

Küken- baby chick

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[minyoongisprivateaccount]

♥️♥️☎️📞Incoming call from Min Yoongi☎️📞♥️♥️

“I wonder how many of us get that sudden sensation of astonishment by their person? That feeling of this exact moment, here, right now I have never known the bliss of being in the presence of my own future. Our future might not be guaranteed but with you, it never seems unpredictable. I know that I want constant laughter, tears, and most importantly the growth of learning each other. Not only our likes and dislikes but the devastations that have impacted us for the worst and hopefully for the better. I have trust that you will allow me to experience them with you until our very last days. So to my future, please continue to bless me with your incomparable presence.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️☎️📞1 New voicemail.☎️📞♥️♥️♥️♥️

♥️♥️♥️☎️📞Would you like to listen?☎️📞♥️♥️♥️

[iveneverbeenhere]

“I wish you roses, and roses, and roses, and roses”

Summary: Flowers and attached notes of BTS boys

Genre: Fluff, angst(?), descriptions of hardships and arguments between Tae and Reader but ending is hopeful

CW: Nothing

A/N: Who would have known my fall back into flower language would align with me doing my first prompt challenge thing. I used a bunch of them, so they will be highlighted in the notes.

Giving credit to @writinginstardust for their huge brain🫡‼️‼️ 🫶🫶

Jungkook: sunflowers, yellow tulips, red tulips

“For my sweetest pookie.

I can’t write much on this card because the company gave me a word limit. Poor me. Can you feel my pout through this? I wanted to tell you that I dreamt about you last night. I saw it so clearly. It was late at night and we were stargazing outside. Bam was sprawled out on our laps like the lazy kid he is while you talked to me about your day, childhood, and everything. I don’t remember which story you were on but I remember you smiling at the end. God, I told you how much I love your smile right? I want to see it again soon. Seeing your blinding smile, I rush back into the house to fish for this bouquet. When I gave you the flowers, you rolled your pretty eyes. Still, you gave me the warmest smile I’d ever seen. It felt like deja vu.

- From Jungkook”

Yoongi: tarragon, daisies, morning glory, gardenia

“Hello dear.

I’ve missed you. Last night I woke up in an insomniac haze. For a second I thought that I was home. I saw you standing in the shadows gazing into me. I came to you and you held me while I clung to you. You smelt like vanilla and lavender. You smelt like home. Then reality hit me like a brick. Genuinely. Once my vision cleared I had a thumping migraine between my eyes and a stiff-as-shit neck. You always did tell me not to fall asleep in my studio chair. I spent the next hour lying in the dark on my studio couch like a wounded orphan. I wish I had told you. I should have told you. I would have been less alone. Less in pain. I don’t think I’m cut out for this job, I swear.

I can see you rolling your eyes, but I mean it this time. I’m coming home tomorrow. Finally, I can’t wait. - Yoongi”

V: Saliva (Red, blue, purple), Red carnation, baby’s breath

“Hi, clover.

You miss me?

I miss you. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I feel dreary. I’m working on a small ceramic mushroom…It’s not going well, It’s too lopsided. The sky is covered in a light gray fog. I hear the rain splash against the windows while Yeontan barks. We were supposed to see each other but I’m all alone now. Are you still upset? I was harsh. I felt the fearful pain of you leaving me, so I was determined to hurt you back. To make you feel what I felt so strongly. However, when I went back to lick my wounds, memories of our bliss came back stronger. Every touch. Every kiss. Every midnight walk we had when we both couldn’t sleep. The mornings waking up together. I was a fool. I always am, but more so in these moments.

When I see you again, can I hold your hand? I miss your warmth. And you - Your Alien”

Jin: red roses, pink roses, white roses

“Did you know my mother adores you?

Yeah, you’re all she ever talks about. “Oh, they’re so sweet.”

“Have you no manners? You see them looking so beautiful and you don’t say anything?”

“Yah, Seokjin how’s my favorite child doing?” Then when I tell her I’m fine, she goes “Quit joking, you know who I’m talking about.” How upsetting! I’m her actual son, but compared to you I’m chopped liver! Still, I can’t blame her. I’m the same way. I missed you during enlistment. I also missed the boys. Though not as much when compared to you. I see them 360 days out of the year. They’re staples in my life, but you…you’re my world.

My private heaven. My home. And I’ve been away from my home far too long. I intend to fix that. Get ready!

- From, Kim Seokjin ♥️”

Namjoon: Magnolia, cactus, succulents, aloe

“

“If the devil were to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent.” - Farouq Jwaydeh

Good morning, my Divine. I hope your day is going well. Mine could be better. It’s not bad, but not great. Just a day. I’m in a rut. I went to the studio and tried to write but my slack brain didn’t want to. Instead, it wants to focus on you. Where is my love? Have they finished the book I gave them? Have they thought about me today? As I think about them every day? How often do they think of me? I could close my eyes and still envision them perfectly. It’s wrapped itself in roses and lilies and recites love poems and scenarios. It’s excruciating shit. So, I’ll give it and myself an outlet. For starters, do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting. You’ve left me so lovesick that I’m borderline diseased. My waking hours are anguishing. My feet feel heavy and my head spins. My third rib begs for its return to my body so that my heart can be caged away once again. I know this is a lot to take in. I want to talk about it more with you when I’m less of a shell of a man. I won’t resent you if you don’t reciprocate. I’ll be pained, but I’ll come back to you. If do you reciprocate…Either way, say you want me, and I’m yours. - Kim Namjoon”

J-hope: honeysuckle, forget me nots, chrysanthemum (red)

“Hellooooooo. I hope your day has been as lovely as you are, honey. By the way, what kind of jewelry do you like best? I can’t pick. Gold makes you look stunningly regal but Silver shows the depth of your skin and eyes. This bouquet and the jewelry were both supposed to be same-day gifts, but the company never gave me any damn updates! How unfair is that! So now, these gifts have been forced apart. It’s so cruel. 🥲

I know I could call you about this instead, but it’s too different. I’ve been gone too long. I said I needed a refresh. A moment to connect back to what I want in life. Well, I have! The sky is so clear. The sun is shining. The forecast said there would be nice weather. They were absolutely right. My feet feel lighter. So does my heart. The cloud that hung over me has gone and I’ve stepped out of the box that’s kept me trapped. I’m ready to take my first step, but I want you there with me.

Tell me what you want.

Of the jewelry, I mean. I can’t afford to spend the whole day shopping! I love you. - Jung Hoseok”

Jimin: white jasmine, hibiscus, daffodils, white camellia

“Hello Darling ♥️.

I just realized how much I love you.

Well, not just realized, but I still needed to remind you. It sounds corny, but I’m very sincere. Besides, there’s no occasion for when you should declare your love right? Sure, there are preferred moments, but what’s wrong with keeping love fresh and exciting? Shouldn’t you want your lover to voice their love for you every day?

No, but honestly, It’s crazy, really. No one’s ever made me feel like this.

I’ve dreamt about this for as long as can remember, but only now have I found it. The person who I thought of every second of every day. The person who colored my dreams at night. The one I envisioned whenever I sang love songs. The one who I searched high and low for without fail or doubt.

I’ve waited so long for this.

So long…

I just needed to remind you. I’ll spend the rest of our lives reminding you. So don’t worry, I’m here. - Love Mochi”

[ktownshizzle]

Watermelon & Suga | myg

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x plus size female!reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: idol!au, Fluff, Smut, Drama, Whirlwind romance, Love at “second” sight

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Inspired by the events of Dday Phuket Vlog, Yoongi meets you, the island girl of his dreams, and now he can’t stop thinking about you.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Dday rockstar Yoongi, I love this MC I think she a baddie, writing might feel a little too indulgent at times, A world with no language barriers, A relevant time skip, check the dates. Sex on a boat, public sex/slight exhibitionism kink, unprotected sex (be safe!), oral (m&f), spanking, fingering, squirting (in that order lol), slight degradation and dirty talk but MC likes it, sweet pet names, tell me if I missed anything, but yeah… sex on a boat and then some, Yoongi is down atrociously bad for our curvy queen and is desperate to worship her and validate her <3

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 10k!

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Finally!!! Worked on this for months ever since some of y’all plagued me with Phuket vlog Yoongi as honeymoon hubby material and I couldn’t stop the fantasy from unfolding. It did take me a while to bang this out (I blame the Nerds), sorry. Nonetheless I hope y’all enjoy this lil slice of paradise. 💜 Thank you Aqua for betareading.

🗓️ June 2023 - 📍Phuket, Thailand

The air smells like salt and sunlight, a mix you’ve grown so accustomed to that it no longer feels special. Just another Tuesday workday on the Andaman Sea. 

It’s nice and calm out today, barely a ripple on the surface. There’s a light breeze from the southwest, nothing too exciting, just enough to keep things cool. No storm on the radar, and the water's warm enough for a good snorkelling sesh. Basically, a perfect day to fall in love (with the sea).

Your usual clients are giddy tourists, high on Tiger beer and oyster omelets. But today seems quieter, more chill somehow, even though your group today is unlike your typical clientele. Today, you were asked to sign an NDA.

The rest of the group has boarded already. Some seven men and women that comprise a group of musicians currently in town for their concert tour. Now, you’re just waiting for the last member to join. The VIP, apparently.

So who’s the diva? 

Well, after 15 minutes, he finally decides to grace you with his presence. 

“Min Yoongi?” you call tentatively.

He nods, barely glancing up as he steps onto the boat. A quick bow, respectful but distracted. You direct him to a seat near the stern, his cologne lingering in the air as he passes you.

To be fair, he’s not flashy, no monogram logos in sight, no jewelry, or any other loud proclamations of being the proverbial shit. Dressed in a black and white shirt with a plain black rash guard and shorts, a baseball cap tugged low over his eyes, he could’ve been mistaken for anyone. But there seems to be a deliberate nature in how he moves, careful and understated, like he’s trying to avoid notice but not entirely succeeding. 

Swag can’t be faked, even if he did walk a little bit like your grandpa. Those New Balance slides? Yeah, you’ve seen it in your halbeoji’s home.

You turn to speak with Soomchai from the coast guard—a moderately cranky but well-meaning old man who’s been doing this for decades. He scratches at his scalp through his faded fisherman’s hat as you hand him the passenger manifest.

“You’re staring too hard,” he quips, licking the pad of his index before flipping the pages.

Huh? “I’m not.” You say.

“So they’re famous, eh?” he reviews the names on the clipboard, surreptitiously glancing over your shoulder.

You look behind you, half of them are already asleep, half basically on their phones.

“One of them, yeah. You know BTS?”

His face remains unchanged as he counts the passengers. “I don’t and I don’t trust the lot of them. Want me to accompany you?”

“Loong Soomchai,” you smile at the man who has taken you under his wing since you moved here last year. “Chill. Besides, I have a black belt in taekwondo, if you already forgot. I can easily toss them overboard, then they’ll really be your problem.”

“Aish,” he waves a dismissive hand at you. “I’m on line 3. Stay safe.”

“Roger, that,” you speak into your hand-held radio, your voice blaring on the receiver tucked into the older man’s cargo shorts. 

Soomchai’s slouched frame disappears as the boat pulls away from the dock. You brace your legs and adjust your stance. The boat shifts beneath you—but you don’t. Learning how to move with the water, how to balance your weight just right, was something that came with time.

Before you officially start the tour, you check your rash guard, snug across your chest, and smooth down the high-waisted swim shorts that you are wearing. You’re quite happy with your fashion choice today. It made you feel like a Bond girl—but curvier, tougher, more badass.

Usually, you would take a moment to observe your audience, make eye contact and exchange smiles to open the communication. Your VIP, though, sits with his arms resting on his thighs, gaze fixed on the water as though it holds answers to questions only he knows. You wonder if he’s the type to make small talk or if he’d prefer you stayed silent. 

Still, it’s your job to guide, to narrate, to fill the spaces between the silence and the sea. You start with the usual pleasantries and introductions, your go-to joke to break the ice, and you’re off. 

“If you look to the right,” you gesture, “you’ll see Koh Tapu. You may have heard of it as James Bond Island, because a scene from The Man with the Golden Gun was filmed there.”

A polite murmur rises from the other guests. Some snap photos. Min Yoongi doesn’t look up.

You let the silence stretch, wondering if you should say more. It’s not often you get guests like him—someone who seems so unbothered, yet weighed down at the same time. 

It isn’t until you glance back at him again that you realize he’s watching you now, his eyes sharp beneath the brim of his cap. Caught, you quickly look away, focusing instead on the shimmering turquoise of the water.

“How many times have you done this tour before?”

The question surprises you. You’re not sure if you should be offended, but you answer swiftly anyway. “Hundreds of times,” you admit with a shrug. “But the sea changes every day. It’s never exactly the same.”

You smile at him, genuine. “I imagine it’s a bit like your concerts. You practice it a thousand times, but it's still different in every show, every city, every audience… Makes things interesting.”

Something in your words seems to resonate with him. He leans back slightly, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “I get that,” he says softly, more to himself than to you.

After that, you noticed Yoongi’s guard begin to lower. He’d nod occasionally at your explanations, even ask a question here and there—about the history of a limestone karst or the kinds of fish they might see while snorkeling. His voice was quiet, with a faint rasp from overuse that made him clear his throat now and then.

“You know this fish?” Yoongi asks, holding out his phone to show you a screenshot.

“Wow, that’s beautiful…” you lean forward slightly.

He coughs a bit, scratching the back of his neck as he leans back. “Yeah, uh, they said it’s native to these parts.”

“I’m not familiar,” you squint. “Can you send me the photo? I can ask one of the other guides—I’m still no expert on marine life, I fear.”

There’s a pause. He gives you a look you can’t quite read, brows slightly raised, lips pressed in something not quite a smile. But it’s not disapproving either. Just... 

Oh shit. You just asked for his number. Or to exchange Kakao. Same thing. You basically asked to link up.

Such an idiot. A flush creeps up your neck. Stupid, stupid girl. You weren’t thinking. God, he probably thinks you’re trying to pull a fast one on him—playing the helpful guide when really, you just wanted an excuse. 

People don’t just ask for Yoongi’s number. Of course not. Unless they’re someone. You hope he doesn’t file a complaint after this.

You straighten, your voice a little brighter, a bit too eager to salvage what’s left of your professionalism. “But, um, actually, no need. We’ll see a ton of species later when we get near the caverns. I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for that one.”

“Mmh.” He nods. You can’t quite tell if it’s thoughtful or distracted by your word vomit.

But as you turn to walk across the deck, you can feel his eyes burning holes on your back. Low on your back. Maybe lower even.

Should you look? Maybe you’re just imagining it. 

You chance a quick glance. And your eyes meet his. Looking at you with an interesting glint. His lips lift slightly. You tilt your head, curious. Pulse racing. Giddy.

Okay, maybe your job is safe after all. But your heart? Eh.

When you serve them a plate of watermelon slices, the group’s energy shifts. One of them jokes about how they should’ve brought soju, while another eagerly reaches for a piece, groaning in satisfaction the moment he tastes it.

You place the tray in front of Yoongi, and he immediately plucks a slice. He bites into it, and for the first time all morning, you see a full-blown smile—pretty enamals and pink gums on show.

“Good?” you asked, unable to stop your own grin from forming.

He nodded, wiping his thumb along the corner of his mouth. “It’s perfect.”

“What’s your favorite fruit?” you throw out a neutral question as you struggle to ignore the stray liquid he’s trying to chase down with his tongue. 

“Tangerines,” he replies. “The ones from Jeju Island are the best. Have you ever been?”

“No, unfortunately.”

There was a beat of silence before he adds, almost to himself, “But this… this is nice.”

He pushes the plate towards you. “You should have one.”

“Ah, maybe later.”

“Don’t be shy,” the plate moves another inch closer. You pick up a slice, mumbling a thanks.

Sugar fills your mouth as you sink your teeth on the watermelon, juice dribbling on the side of your lip which you immediately catch with your tongue.

Unlike you though, he’s watching. Openly. Shamelessly. The way his eyes dart from your mouth to your eyes is not lost on you and you can’t help but feel excitement pooling in your belly.

“Sweet.” you remark, before sucking the juice from your thumb. Baiting him.

He smirks, “Looks like it.”

“You always flirt using fruit?”

“You’re the one licking your lips.”

You grin.

As a tour guide, you’re used to the art of the harmless flirt. It comes with the job—tourists with sun-soaked nerves and too much vacation confidence, tossing compliments like loose change. You’ve learned how to play along just enough, to keep things light, fun. A wink here, a tease there. Part of the act. People like feeling charming, and you don’t mind giving them the illusion.

But this feels different.

Right now, it’s just you, the sea, and this idol watching you like he’s the one mesmerized.

And maybe it shouldn’t matter, the way his gaze lingers—not over the places you’ve been taught to hide, but the ones you’ve learned to own. The dip of your waist. The curve of your hip where your swim shorts sit snug. 

There’s something about being looked at like this—not with hunger or pity, but with curiosity, appreciation, even. And it makes you want to keep his gaze a little longer.

‘Cause you know who he is. You’d recognized the name when you saw it on the manifest and when you signed the documents. He’s an idol. Part of Bangtan Fuckin’ Sonyeondan. A man with a carefully manicured image, a life guarded by rabid fans, dissected by media men with too many opinions, surrounded by sexy, slender women.

You’d think men like him don’t get to have ‘normal’ moments like this. They don’t make casual conversations about fish or share food with a rando. But here he is, acting like this is real. And god, why does it feel like it might be?

Honestly, maybe it’s nothing. Maybe you’re not the only one who knows the art of the harmless flirt. Maybe he’s not even that interested.

But you’re gonna play along. See where this goes. At least for now.

Later, after anchoring in a secluded cove, you bring out the snorkeling gear. Most of your guests dive in with ease, their laughter echoing as they race toward the reef. Yoongi lingers on the boat, fiddling with the straps of his mask.

“Need help?” you ask, stepping closer.

He looks up, sheepish. “Is it that obvious?”

You laugh softly. “A little. Here, let me.”

He hands you the mask, watching as you adjust the straps. His gaze feels heavier now, like it’s searching for something beyond the simple act of fixing the gear.

You’re used to people skimming past you with their eyes, but when Yoongi looks, you feel like your skin is on fire. His gaze dips, just for a second, on the spot where the zipper of your top sits against your boobs. He doesn’t comment, doesn’t smirk—probably thinks he’s being sly. But you’re on to him. 

“You’ve done this before, right?” you check, eyes teasing, as you pass the mask back to him.

He shrugs. “A long time ago. I’m out of practice.”

“Good thing I’m here.” You flash him a reassuring smile and step into the water, gesturing for him to follow.

You surface and nod. He hesitates only briefly before jumping in—but his foot slips slightly on the boat’s edge, and he lands with an ungraceful splash and shriek that echoes across the cove. You can’t stop the laugh that bursts out.

“Grand entrance,” you say, grinning as he surfaces with a shy expression.

“Glad I could entertain you,” he mutters, pushing his wet hair back, and if that isn’t one of the sexiest actions you’ve ever seen done by any human being. God.

“Here.” You take a chance to reach for his hand, and to your mild surprise and relief, he takes it. “Just relax. The water will do most of the work.”

He follows your lead, his fingers tightening slightly around yours as you float together. The reef comes into view below, vibrant and teeming with life. You glance at him, his face half-hidden by the snorkel mask, and find him watching you instead of the reef.

“You’re missing the best part,” you pull your hand away, pointing toward the colorful fish darting between the coral.

“Am I?”

You take your mask off only to roll your eyes. “Are you always this smooth?”

He pulls the mouthpiece out just enough to smirk at you. “Only when it works.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escapes you. 

“Admit it,” he says, leaning closer, his voice low. “You’re having fun.”

You don’t deny it. Instead, you start wading away, gesturing towards the reef. “Come on. The fish are much better company.”

Back on the boat, the atmosphere is lighter. Yoongi is more relaxed now, his earlier distance replaced by a quiet warmth. As you steer toward the island for lunch, you feel his gaze on you again.

When you glance over, he doesn’t look away this time.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” he says, though his lips twitch into an understated smile.

At the island, the group disembarks for lunch, their excitement palpable. Yoongi lingers by the railing, his gaze flickering between you and the others.

“Come with us,” he says, his voice low enough that the others don’t hear.

You shake your head, smiling apologetically. “I can’t. Protocol.”

He looks as though he wants to argue, because he seems like the type that gets everything he wants, but resignedly nods, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Next time, then.”

“Next time,” you echo, though you’re not sure if you believe it.

While they eat, you stay behind on the boat, finishing your own lunch, which one of the island ahjummas hands you as soon as you dock. There’s still some leftover watermelon, so you have it for dessert. It’s sweeter than any you have had all summer, but not sweet enough to distract you from the thought spinning in your head: Did the Min Yoongi really just invite you to join their group for lunch?

He was probably just being polite. Right? But then why did he stare at your lips for ten whole seconds when you were exploring the caves?

Fuck. You really need to get Lasik because your eyes cannot be trusted. Maybe a psychiatric evaluation too, while you’re at it.

Who are you kidding? At this point you can only afford the oh-so ahjumma-chic wide-brim hat so your lone brain cell is not fried by the sun.

BUT. Why does it feel like you had a connection?

Him with his kind eyes and that sexy smile. You’re so fucked.

Shaking your head, you grab a beer from the cooler and chug it, the cold brew doing its damnednest to wash down your delusions. For a moment, the only sound is from waves against the boat’s hull.

But then, footsteps.

You glance over your shoulder.

Yoongi is walking into the shaded area of the boat, pushing damp strands of hair with his beautiful fingers.

“Hey,” you say, clocking that he’s coming in alone. Your pulse races.

“Hi.”

“Craving more watermelon?” you ask, smiling as you gesture to the plate.

He leans against the table, his gaze steady, but there’s something else there. “I was,” he says, his voice softer now, “but I think I’m craving something else.”

Your breath stutters. The plate in your hand feels heavier. The tips of his fingers brushes along the edge of the table as he walks closer, and closer.

“There’s, uh, more delicacies on the island,” you try to use your tour guide voice, but you’re faltering. “Thailand has, umm, over 1,000 species of fruit, you know…”

“Mmm.” A faint smirk touches his lips, but his eyes are fixed on you. He’s literally in front of you now, so close that the air is sucked out of your lungs. You notice every macro detail—the faint streaks of sunscreen on his cheek, the fine grains of sand clinging to his hair, the way his scent is a mix of the sun and the ocean and his own musk. And those lips. Goddamn those lips.

“What is it that you like?” you ask, your voice small and shy as he studies you, too.

“I think I prefer,” he murmurs, before leaning in. “This.”

His kiss sparks upon contact against your mouth. His lips are a little chapped, but still soft. A hand slips around the back of your neck, guiding you closer until your lips part, and his tongue slides in. There’s not one second of hesitation, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You angle your head and kiss him back, a little messy, a little breathless. It’s not the kind of kiss meant for daylight, not while you’re at work, not something that belongs on a boat in open water, but fuck if it ain’t so goddamn good you forget where the hell you are.

His other hand settles on your middle, firm, squeezing against your soft waist. You’re keenly aware of every place your bodies meet—your chest against his damp shirt, your thigh brushing his leg, the faint heat radiating off his skin in the humid air.

You’ve never done this. Nope. Not while working. Not with guests, especially. But Yoongi doesn’t feel like a guest anymore. Doesn’t feel like a fantasy or a celebrity or whatever version of himself the world thinks he is.

He doesn’t feel new–like someone you just met. It sounds crazy that you connected on a level that doesn’t quite match the short amount of time since you’ve exchanged names. You can’t even correct your actions at this point. Not when he tastes like coconut and you’re slipping farther away from clarity.

Your hands move on instinct, sliding up under his shirt, fingers tangling in the sticky strands at the nape of his neck. “Yoongi…” His name escapes you like a plea, like you’re already wrecked—and maybe you are.

His tongue strokes yours, and it’s incredibly filthy how he’s sucking it into his mouth like he wants to own it. Own you. You moan. Your knees weaken. Your brain empties. The only thing you can feel is him—his mouth, his breath, the growing pressure of his body against yours.

Fingers are slipping under the hem of your shorts, gripping you behind with no hesitation.

“This ass,” he mutters, then smacks, and the sound cracks in the air. Your breath catches, a gasp hitching from your throat as slickness floods your bikini bottoms.

“Shit–somebody might see us,”

“Nah, nobody else is gonna come here,” he pauses, smirks. “Except you, twice. Then, me.”

The confidence. “Oh my God.”

“We ‘bout to break protocol.” He squeezes your ass again, groaning into your neck. “You want this?” he rasps. His lips latch onto your throat, teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver. “Tell me.”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe. “Come…”

You grab his hand and lead him toward the hatch, pulling it open and motioning for him to climb down. He does without question, dropping to the lower deck with a soft thud.

You grip the ladder, descending slowly, legs already shaky with anticipation. But before you can hit the floor, his hands are on your thick thighs, firm. Squeezes once.

“Stop,” he commands. “Face me.”

Your heart stutters, but you obey, turning to face him as you grip the edge of the floor deck which is now at your eye level.

“What are you—?”

“You keep an eye out,” he says, voice low and dark with intent. “I'm just gonna eat you out real quick.”

Your breath catches—shocked, aroused, completely undone.

He curls his fingers into your waistband, tugging your shorts and bikini bottoms down in one smooth motion. A gust of humid air brushes your exposed skin as your knees nearly give out.

But you don’t get a second to process, because his mouth is already on you, making out with your pussy lips. His tongue licks a long, hot stripe through your folds, and your nearly fucking cum right there.

The metal ladder is cool against your ass as you struggle for balance. Your grip tightens on the deck, knuckles almost white. His hand slides up to part your thighs just a little more, anchoring you open for him. You feel his hot breath, before his tongue dives back in—savoring, circling, sucking.

You panic—just briefly. You spent hours in the ocean. You probably taste like—

“Mmm,” he hums against you, like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. His grip on your thigh is a bit harsh as if he could read your mind that you wanted to squirm out of his grasp. 

There is something so incredibly arousing about feeling him, but not seeing him. Hearing him, but not touching him. As if the sensations are heightened. Every feeling more palpable because of sense deprivation.

Next thing you know his fingers are teasing your entrance, collecting the slick from your pussy.

You feel a wet tap against the side of your mouth and words aren't needed as you suck his digits in. You’re drunk of your own taste and heady scent, the feel of his bony knuckles massaging your tongue tipping you closer to the edge.

But then his fingers are gone and you almost want to bite it down but then he slides it into your cunt and Christ alive. 

He is moving in and out of you so shallowly, just knuckle-deep, the pads of his fingers barely scraping your inner walls. You move your arms to grip the ladder behind you, giving you the leverage to rock forward, coaxing it inner, deeper.

Fuck is he laughing right now?!

You halt your movements as you hear a throaty chuckle from underneath you.

“Why’d you stop,” he teases, kissing up the softness on the inside of your thighs.

“Hook your thigh over my shoulder,” he mumbles against your soaked heat, voice low and so filthy it makes your whole body tense.

You do as he says. Your leg lifts shakily, your body is burning with the exertion but his hand is already there, steadying you, guiding you, draping it over the curve of his shoulder like you don’t weigh nothing.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, just before his tongue dives back in.

It’s messier now. His fingers pump deeper, faster, the pace almost punishing as they curl inside you, finding that spongey spot that makes your thighs seize. His tongue flicks over your clit in short, relentless strokes, matching the rhythm of his fingers.

You cry out—loud, desperate, your hand gripping the ladder like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth. Your hips jerk, trying to escape, but he growls and tightens his hold, tongue moving even faster.

“Fuck, Yoongi—I’m gonna—”

And then it hits. A blinding, body-shaking orgasm that tears through you so violently your vision goes white. You scream as your legs almost gives out, but his arm braces your hips as you fuckin’ squirt, soaking his chin, his neck, the tops of his shoulders.

He lets out a surprised, delighted laugh, breath hot and sticky as he looks up at you.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, eyes glazed, chin glistening. “You squirted all over me, you dirty girl.”

You whimper, half-mortified, half-high, your body still twitching. “Sorry…” you squeak.

His tongue darts out to taste the corner of his mouth, and he grins—smirks, really. Completely pleased with himself. “Don’t. Sexiest thing I’ve seen in a while.”

You’re trembling so hard you can barely stay upright, your leg slipping from his shoulder. He catches it, presses a final kiss to your inner thigh, then plants your foot down on a step. 

“Come here. Be careful,” he says, voice gentler now. He guides you by the waist, helping you down the last few steps until your feet hit the floor.

Your body collapses into his chest on instinct, and he chuckles again, arms wrapping around your middle.

“You okay?” he asks softly, nose nudging yours.

You nod, breath still catching in your throat. “More than okay.”

He pulls back just enough to flash that lazy grin. “Good. ’Cause I’m not done with you yet.”

He spins you back around, pressing you against the ladder. You gasp as his hand flattens between your shoulder blades, your palms bracing the handles above you as his hips roll into yours from behind—slow and grinding, just to let you feel what he’s working with.

“Still want this?” he asks, voice low, gravel edged with need, his hard cock moulding itself against your plush ass cheeks.

You push your hips back into him. “Yes. God, yes.”

There’s a frantic shuffle of clothes, from his end, his swim trunks dropped and kicked away, and then… He slides in with one rapid thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Your mouth drops open, lungs pierced, your breath knocked right out of you.

“Fuck—shit,” you choke, forehead pressing against your arm.

“F-fuck,” he groans, fingers tightening on your hips. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He starts to move, hips snapping forward sharply. Each thrust drives you against the ladder, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the tiny space, the scent of the ocean mixing with the thick heat of your bodies.

Yoongi rocks against you desperately like he’s been holding back all damn day. Like he’s finally been let off the leash. Mercifully he slows down, but he is pulling you up by your hair so your back is resting against his chest. 

“Yoongi,” you say his name breathlessly, and he releases his ponytail grip as you struggle to stay upright. He licks the skin by your ear, whispering dirty things you’ve never heard of in your entire life, twitches against your walls.

“You like that, huh, you little slut?” 

Fuck. You didn’t expect to like the name so much. An involuntary clench of your pussy and you know he got the idea. It’s not just the name, but it’s the way he is literally manhandling you, fulfilling all your small girl fantasies.

“Mmh.”

“Yeah, you love it.” His fingers find the zipper of your rash guard top sliding it down just enough for his large hands to slip inside and grab a fistful of your breasts.

“Your tits are so soft, shit. Wan’ suck on them so bad.” He growls.

“Want it,” you mewl, pushing your chest forward for him to grasp.

“I bet you do, huh. Maybe later, if you’re a good girl I can suck on these. Make you cum just licking at your nipples—want that?”

“Uh-huh, please,” You sound so whiny, fucking back into him as he fondles and tugs and pulls at your sensitive nubs.

“Spit,” he instructs, his palm out. “Let’s get these nice and slick.”

A wet glob from your mouth lands on his palm and he slaps it against your tits. You whimper at the sting, but it’s quickly relieved by the soft massage against your breasts.

“Feel good?”

“So good. Ah–” your words are cut off as he folds you again to his liking.

Yoongi fucks like he is used to being watched, but right now? There’s no audience. No stage. Just you, bent over, body shuddering with every thrust, moaning like you don’t care who hears it.

Your hands scramble for grip, nails digging into your own skin as his rhythm gets rougher. His fingers trail up your spine, tracing the dip at the small of your back before curling into your hair and yanking just hard enough to make you gasp as he continues to rail you from behind.

“Harder, please, Yoongi…”

“So desperate,” he pants, breathing hot against your neck. “So fucking good like this. You feel—” a groan breaks his sentence, “—so goddamn perfect. A pretty little— cocksleeve just for me.”

You’re trembling now, thighs shaking as pleasure coils low and tight in your belly. You feel everything—his cock, thick, hot, hitting just right with every snap of his hips and your body is unraveling fast.

“Ahhh. Right there, fuckin there. That’s it…” You glance over your shoulder, and fuck he’s so fucking hot and he’s fucking you so good and…

“You gonna come for me again?” he growls, one hand sliding between your thighs. “Shit. Give it to me, you dirty fuckin’ girl.”

You cry out as your orgasm slams into you, body clenching tight around his cock, eyes squeezing shut as white heat galvanizes every nerve. Yoongi curses behind you, hips stuttering once, twice—and then he’s coming too, spilling deep inside you with a growl that sounds more animal than human.

You both stay there, shaking and sticky and utterly breathless. The only sound is the ocean lapping against the hull and your heart pounding in your ears.

Yoongi’s hand doesn’t leave your waist, his fingers sink against your soft skin a bit firmer, though somehow gentler, too. Then, his lips press once, twice, thrice, softly, against your shoulder blades. You don’t understand what’s happening. It feels intimate, too intimate.

“Umm…” 

“Is there a bathroom here?”

“A tiny one, yeah. Over there.”

You wince as he pulls his cock out, walls pulsing once as if you wanna keep him inside you if you can. 

“C’mon,” he taps your ass playfully, lightening up the moment. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

By the time the group is back on the boat, skin sun-warmed and bellies full from lunch, the mood is mellow. No one makes any comment as to why you and Yoongi are already on the boat, or why you both have different tops on. You’re slightly relieved. But it also makes questions swirl in your brain that you don’t really want answers to. You shove it in the recesses of your mind and focus on getting back to work. You’re still on duty after all. 

You check on the other guests, making small talk about the yummy lunch spread. You know they had grilled squid, pad thai, mango sticky rice… like every other group you’ve toured, and it’s always a dopamine rush to see everyone so satisfied.

Someone puts on music through a Bluetooth speaker, the kind of acoustic guitar track that feels like the end of a movie. The boat sways gently as it begins to head back toward the mainland.

You pretend not to notice when Yoongi lingers near the bow, waiting until the others have found their seats before sliding into the open spot beside you.

He doesn’t say anything. Just sits close enough that your arms brush when the boat dips slightly with the tide.

You glance at him once. Twice. On the third time, you catch him already looking at you.

Neither of you smiles. He just reaches for the beer you hand him and takes a long sip, throat bobbing.

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. It’s in limbo. Like neither of you wants to name what happened, not while you’re still in it. Still riding the aftershocks of something way too fucking good to put into words.

At one point, he rests his arm along the back of the bench behind you. His fingers graze your shoulder. And you know it’s not by accident.

Your hand brushes his knee when you reach for a stray towel. Not by accident, either.

The sun dips lower as the coastline comes into view, and a knot begins to form in your chest. The same one he must feel, if the way his hand keeps tightening around his bottle is any sign.

Eventually, the boat eases into the dock. The group starts gathering their things—bags, towels, sun hats, laughter loud again as people gear up to head back to city life.

You move to help untie the mooring lines, and when you return to the deck, he’s standing by the edge, a small bag slung over one arm.

The others are already walking off. Bowing to you and thanking you for the tour. He’s the last one to leave just as he was the first to arrive.

“This is where I’m supposed to say thank you for the tour,” he murmurs, eyes still on the sea.

You nod. “This is where I say, come back anytime.”

He turns to you then. And for a second, the tiredness in his eyes softens.

“Will you be here, if I come back?”

You don’t answer right away. Just offer a small smile. “Maybe.”

He nods like that’s fair. Steps forward like he might hug you, or say something more. Maybe he considered it. But instead, he slips past you with a final glance.

The dock creaks under his steps. He doesn’t look back.

You watch him walk away until he disappears into the crowd.

Your chest aches with something unnameable.

You know how this goes. Men like him probably have groupies all the time, in every tour stop. You were Phuket. And that’s fine. It’s fine.

At least, you tell yourself, he was a really good fuck and you finished twice, which is more generous than any other one night stand or quickie you’ve had. A great story to tell your future grandkids that you once fucked a very famous idol. Okay, maybe not your grandkids. Maybe not a story to tell, actually. (You signed an NDA!) But something to shove in your heart, let every ventricle lock it tight there. But the taste of him is still on your lips, and the way your heart stutters in your chest says otherwise, like the memory is already struggling to be freed.

You’ve just stepped out of the shower when the knock comes. You freeze.

It’s late—well past when anyone should be dropping by. You don’t get visitors out here. Not unannounced. Not at this hour. Wrapped in your towel, you tiptoe barefoot to the door, heart thudding.

Another knock. Slower this time. Softer.

You squint through the peephole and nearly forget how to breathe.

It’s him.

Yoongi.

You open the door, towel clutched tight, words lodged in your throat.

It’s really him. Hood pulled low. 

His eyes sweep over your form, too. Wet, barely covered… but he recovers enough to explain what is going on. 

“I know this is crazy,” he says, before you can even speak. “But I had to see you again.”

He stands there, blinking at you under the harsh hallway lighting in your apartment building, like he’s afraid you’ll shut the door in his face.

“How did you even—?”

“I went back to the pier. Found the old guy? Practically begged him. And he gave me your address.” He exhales, shaking his head with a laugh. “I think he only did it because he felt sorry for me.”

You’re still standing there, stunned, the scent of body wash clinging to your skin.

“Can I come in?” he asks, quieter now. Like he’s unsure of the answer. “You’re in your towel.”

You nod, even though you’re still in shock, stepping aside. You adjust the towel on your chest. 

“Make yourself at home. Let me just put clothes on.”

Yoongi slips off his shoes and steps into your little house like he’s done it a hundred times before.

He looks around. It’s nothing special—worn tile floors, mismatched furniture, an abandoned oatmeal bar on the coffee table—but he doesn’t look disappointed. He looks like he’s breathing for the first time all day.

You grab a shirt and sleep shorts, quickly changing in the bedroom. When you return, he’s leaning against your kitchen counter, eyes scanning the fridge magnets, the little details of your life like they mean something.

You glance up at the clock, 8:30 p.m.

“I was gonna eat ramen,” you say, trying to play it cool.

His lips twitch. “You got enough for two?”

You both end up cooking together. He cuts vegetables with a precision that is completely uncalled for for a cheap pack of instant noodles. You make a comment and he huffs his chest with pride, his knife skills now in full show as he chops the onions in record speed. 

You laugh at how he makes a face and complains about being in tears afterwards.

The kitchen fills with steam and the smell of broth. You sit on the counter while it simmers, beers in hand. He stands in front of you, and your legs part instinctively, letting him through. Like he belongs there.

It’s oddly domestic. Ridiculously comfortable. Why? You still don’t get it.

You’re talking about nothing—favorite childhood snacks, weird airport food, your least favorite sea creatures—when the silence slips in between you.

He’s watching you now, the way you laugh, the way you push your hair behind your ear. His beer forgotten on the table.

You meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, but unlike in the boat, they’re not unreadable. In fact, they’re very much readable and you don’t hesitate to call him out for it. 

“You’re gonna kiss me again, aren’t you?” you raise a brow.

“Been thinking about it since you opened the door in that towel.”

So he does. 

He kisses you slower this time. More careful. Not rushed, not frantic like it was in the boat. He cradles the back of your neck, the other slides beneath your shirt to rest against your waist.

You’re kissing each other like you’re trying to remember. Like you’re trying to make it last. His mouth moves with so much purpose, almost like he’s writing over the hurried, hungry moment from before and replacing it with this—reverence, sureness, clarity.

When he pulls away to breathe, you whisper, “This is crazy.”

He nods. “I know…”

At least you can agree on that.

Later, he’s between your thighs on the couch, and this time, he doesn’t tear at your shorts like he’s chasing a high. This time, he touches you with all the time in the world, so you feel it all. When he slides your shorts down, he pauses, eyes locked on your center, pupils blown.

“I wanted this before,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. “But I didn’t take my time. I didn’t show you.”

“Show me what?” you ask, breathless.

He presses another kiss to your other thigh, then another, closer and closer to your mound. 

“That you deserve to be worshipped,” he says. He drags his tongue along your puffy folds, slow and tender. You arch into his mouth with a gasp, already so close just from kissing in the kitchen. But maybe it’s also the rasp of his voice, and the refreshing honesty, the way he seems to be convinced that you were special.

So this isn’t like the boat. You, suspended against the ladder. It’s not messy or wild. It’s not just lust, or tension exploding in secret.

This is something else. You, suspended in a different reality. Yoongi, telling a different story with his mouth.

He eats you out with care, overwriting that animalistic fuck at sea. His hands cradle your supple thighs as he buries his face deeper. His tongue works in slow, deliberate circles, building towards your peak. 

“Watch…” he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear between breaths. He puts his index and middle fingers in his mouth, dragging it across his sinful tongue. Teases it against your hole before pushing it in agonizingly slow, relishing the way your body is writhing in pleasure.

When he pushes the length all the way in, you fist the cushions. “Yoongi—oh god—”

His mouth envelops your clit in a gentle suction as his fingers go in and out of you. 

“Ahh, so close…”

He doesn’t stop. Not until you’re shaking again, voice breaking on his name, thighs trembling on either side of his face.

He stays between them even after. Kissing. Calming. Worshiping.

You’re still breathless when he pulls back, lips slick, hair mussed, cheeks flushed with heat and pride. He looks up at you like he’s just done something holy—and maybe he has.

You’re still dazed by the time he pulls back, lips glossy, hair wild from all your pulling but his eyes, soft, focused completely on you. He rises slowly, kissing your stomach, bunching up the fabric as he goes, and you can’t even bring yourself to feel a little embarrassed like you sometimes do, with every cover that’s shed, every piece of you revealed, because he is treating you with the kind of reverence you’ve never felt before. Blind to the flaws, he’s not about to leave any part of you untouched by the pink petals of his lips, helping you out of your cotton tee.

When his face meets yours again, you’re already reaching for him, pulling him close, needing his mouth, his breath, the low rasp of his voice in your ear. You’re so high on this feeling. Of being wanted–no–worshipped, for who you are. He kisses you like a man obsessed, hands sliding under your thighs as he coaxes you onto him, settling you over the hardness pressed tight beneath his sweats.

You’re straddling him now, knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side, your body still trembling from the orgasm he pulled out of you. And then—you pause.

You hesitate. Just for a second.

The reality of it creeps in and your saboteur whispers the insecurities you’ve worked so hard to hide. You’re heavier than him. Curvier, fuller. And even though he just made you fall apart on his tongue, there’s a flicker of doubt when you feel your weight settle onto him.

He notices instantly.

“Hey,” he murmurs like he knows, threading his fingers on your hair to pull you towards him, lips brushing the corner of your mouth. His other hand grip your hips, sliding back to your ass where he gives it a soft squeeze. “Don’t do that.”

“I just…” you look away, voice small. “You sure you’re comfortable?”

He lets out the softest fucking laugh, breath hot against your throat. “Baby, sit on me.”

His grip tightens, pulling your hips flush against him. You feel all of him—thick and very solid right against your slit and you can’t help the moan that escapes you, mixing with his own with the slightest friction.

You whine when he thrusts up just once, just enough to make your clit drag against the bulge in his boxers.

“Shit. You’re so sexy…” he breathes, hands sliding from your hips to your thighs, then your asscheeks, cupping them with both palms. “You feel what you’re doing to me right now?”

You nod, dazed, as you roll your hips, slow and testing. He groans like it’s killing him—in the best way.

“Wanna see you ride me… wanna feel you come on my cock. You think you can take it?”

“Shit, yeah…” You respond with a shameless grind. 

“I think I’m addicted to you,” he smiles, ogling your tits, the way they jiggle for him.

“Yeah?”

He licks his bottom lip, nodding.

“Off,” you gesture to his clothes, his tee tossed haphazardly on the floor. You lift your hips slightly to give him room to shimmy his bottoms down. 

His cock flops against his tummy, heavy and reddened. Your mouth wants it too but your hands are already guiding him to your slick entrance on its own accord like it knows better. You finally sink down onto him and his head drops back against the couch, jaw clenched, eyes fluttering shut.

“Fuck. You feel like heaven.”

You gasp, reveling in the fullness of him, the stretch. You ride him slowly at first. Letting him feel all of you. Letting him watch.

And he does. Watches the way your body moves over his, the way your breasts bounce with every roll, the way you take him so deep he can barely speak.

“Look at you,” he pants, hands moving everywhere—your waist, your ass, your thighs, back to your breasts. 

“Shit…” he pants, eyes moving to where you’re riding him. “You’re so fuckin’ hot… fuckin’ perfect.”

He palms your breasts, groaning low in his throat. “Can’t get enough of these.”

He leans forward, licking the valley of your chest before closing his mouth around your nipple, sucking hard enough to make you cry out. Your walls flutter around him in response, and he lets out a low, wrecked groan, before smacking your ass.

“Fuck!”

“Bounce for me, baby,” he gruffs hungrily against your skin, and he delivers another spank. “Come on…”

You do—riding him harder, feeling him twitch inside you. His mouth stays latched, teeth grazing sensitive skin. He’s relentless, filthy, utterly focused on unraveling you. 

When he finally pulls back, he finds your mouth again, devouring your moans between kisses as you both hurtle toward the edge.

“Gonna cum, Yoongi—” you gasp.

“With me, baby,” he pants. “Fuckin’ cum with me.”

He bucks into you harder, faster, harsher and finally you cum together—this time with his name sobbed into his neck—he holds you there, pulsing inside you as he paints your walls white, whispering things he probably shouldn’t say, things you ache to hear.

His head is fully tipped back on the couch, breathing heavy, body a little glossy from his sweat and yours. The aftermath clings to your skin, but the fire hasn’t burned out. Not even close. You’re not done.

He worshipped you, called you a goddess. But, aren’t you his dirty girl? His slut? And when he looks like the hottest man alive—

He looks up when you shift beside him, his brows pulling just slightly. “Wait. What’re you—”

You don’t answer. Just move lower, letting your hands glide down his chest. His abs twitch under your palms. 

“I wanna taste you,” you whisper. “Suck you dry….”

He groans—low and hoarse—as you move between his legs, your mouth ghosting over the crease of his thigh. He spreads them automatically, lazy and loose, cock already half-hard and still wet with your juices. A drop of cum beads at the tip, glistening.

“Shit,” he breathes, pushing a hand through his hair. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You hum in amusement, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock—slow and soft, just enough to make him twitch. Then again. Firmer this time. And when you wrap your lips around the head and suck, you feel the ripple it sends through his entire body.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he hisses. 

You take your time. Lap him up, your cum and his combined.  Lick up the length of him again, then back down to the base, tongue swirling as he expands in your mouth. The weight of him is perfect against your tongue, the way his girth stretches your lips obscene but delicious.

His hand finds the back of your head, not forcing—just resting there. “God, baby… that dirty mouth…”

You bob your head, eyes flicking up to meet his. He looks fucking ruined already, jaw slack, stomach trembling with every flick of your tongue. You clench your throat against his tip and feel him jolt. You love the way his body reacts, the little tremors in his thighs, the tension in his neck.

“Don’t stop,” he pants. “Just like that—fuck, you’re acting like a real slut right now.”

Yes, fuck. You choke involuntarily, swallowing against his tip. He groans, lips lining up into a smirk. You take him deeper, popping him off first to admire your handiwork, cock swollen and red. Let spit drip down your chin. Let your throat work around him as your hand pumps what you can’t take. You can feel him losing it—his moans getting louder, filthier, raspier. He swears under his breath, head thrown back against the pillows.

“Shit, shit—I’m gonna cum,” he warns, eyes fluttering open to find yours again. “Swallow for me, baby. Be my good fuckin—fuuuuck—”

You take him in faster, tongue firmly pressed against that vein as you slide up and down keeping your lips vacuum sealed, and finally—

He comes with a choked-off groan, hips jerking, both hands tangled in your hair now as his cock pulses on your tongue. You take it all. Every filthy, salty, slimy drop. You swallow without breaking eye contact. Brandish your tongue with pride.

He blinks down at you, stars in his eyes as he releases the grip on your scalp to move to your chin. “Shit. You’re unreal.”

You smile. 

You wish this was real.

Somehow he convinces you to move to the bed so he can clean you up. He emerges from your tiny toilet with a warm washcloth, damping it against your leaking cunt.

“C’mere,” he lays on his side, gesturing you to move into him. Alarm bells sound in your head but you can’t bring yourself to stay away when your lips are already towards each other like magnets.

Yoongi’s hand is splayed across your lower back, fingers idly tracing soft, lazy shapes into your skin. His other arm is tucked behind his head, smug and relaxed and still looking thoroughly fucked out.

The night goes on like that. You kiss, cuddle. Talk about small things—more favorites, random things—the suspicious little mole by his arm, scary things—his upcoming military service. And you share with him your own—favorites, why you sleep with an alien plushie, your uncertain future with your job and the economy going to shit.

Hours after, your heart is unrecognizable, suddenly morphing into the shape of someone you just met. It should feel wrong. You’re still not sure why it doesn’t.

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else, I fear,” he says, voice rough, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips.

Go away, butterflies! You snort into his shoulder. “Pshh don’t lie.”

“Why would I do that?”

You lift your head slightly, looking at him. “Okay.”

There’s a beat of silence—comfortable, but loaded. His thumb still circles lazily over your spine.

“You should give me your number.”

You consider him for just a moment. But decide to shake your head. Not because you wanna see him sweat, but because you resolve not to. 

His brow shoots up to his forehead like he didn’t expect that response.

“If you’re still thinking about me after two years…” you say, not quite looking at him, “Then find me. Just like you did today.”

He huffs, repeating his request. “Or you could just give me your number.”

You meet his gaze now, seriousness in your eyes. “I’m not gonna do that.”

“Why? You were hustling me for it in the boat…” he teases with a sly grin.

“Shut up, I just wanted to help you find your fish.”

He pokes his tongue in the inside of his cheek, still waiting on you, deciphering that look.

“Look. I don’t want to wait around for your text or your call. I’m not that girl.”

“Then don’t,” he says simply. “I mean, you won’t have to. I do plan to call. And I’m a pretty good texter, actually.”

You roll your eyes, tracing a slow line over his chest with your fingertip. “Be for real. You look like the type who won’t charge their phone for days.”

He gasps dramatically. “You’re… super wrong. And I have a fucking cool library of cat memes. You’ll be missing out.”

“I think I’ll live.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

There’s a moment. He tilts his head toward you, so adorable, so boyfriend, like you’re an old couple bickering about something mundane, like who’s gonna check the front door if it’s locked. Certainly not a conversation that basically dictated if you will ever see each other again. 

Then before you know it, you jut your lip, unable to stop yourself from acting cutely.

“Kiss me?”

He grins, cat-like. “I’ll do you one better. I can also give you tongue.”

You groan. “God, you’re cringe. You sure you have fans?”

“A fucking lot of em.” He hovers above you, his inky bangs tickling your forehead. “Shut up and take it.”

Tongue teasing against the seam of your lips, he kisses you breathless for the hundredth time tonight. His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck as he pulls you closer, deepening it just enough, with a lot of tongue, as promised.

It’s that feeling.

You could stay here forever.

And that’s the problem.

For now, you let it be what it is. Just a moment where your body fits perfectly against his, your laugh harmonizes with his, and it feels like—just maybe—you were really meant to find each other in the middle of the sea.

You’re both hovering by the door, breaking every rule in the one night stand playbook. This wasn’t supposed to feel like this..

But it fucking does.

He’s dressed the same way he came in last night—cap tugged low over damp hair that smells faintly of your shampoo. You’re in your oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts, bare feet brushing the cold floor. It makes the contrast feel starker somehow—him stepping back into the world, you still rooted in this little bubble of what the night became.

“You think we'll see each other again?” he mumbles, leaning his shoulder beside the door. It’s a quiet question, almost tossed out like it’s nothing.

“You’re you,” you say simply. “You have the world in your hands. It really just depends on one thing.”

His brows lift, a flicker of interest breaking through the fatigue in his face. “And what’s that?”

“How bad you want this.”

That makes him pause.

His eyes dip down your body like he can’t help it. Then his teeth sink into his bottom lip. 

“Don’t make this harder,” he huffs.

“I’m not,” you whisper back. “I’m just being honest.”

“I don’t want to leave,” he says, barely audible.

You shrug, trying for casual even though your chest feels like it’s about to collapse. “But you have to.”

And that’s all there is to it.

He turns, opens the door.

But he doesn’t leave. Not immediately. He stands there, hoodie sleeves too long around his hands, looking back at you one last time.

His gaze doesn’t wander. It lands right on your face, and stays.

“Maybe next time,” he says, just like he did in the island.

You nod, barely. “Maybe.” You try a small smile.

He hesitates for a second more. Tries that small smile to mirror your own.

Then he leaves. And this time, it’s goodbye.

The door closes with a soft click, and the room is too quiet all over again, everything intact like he was never even there. Except he left with maybe just a tiny piece of you and replaced it with a bit of sparkle that you don’t notice immediately until you step back in your room.

That morning, you fire off a text to Soomchai asking why he gave a stranger your address and demand he send you a generous portion of his seafood pad thai as a peace offering. He obliges.

🗓️ June 2025 -📍 Phuket, Thailand

Life goes on. You didn’t have much choice in that.

The tours picked up again after the rainy season, but not in the way they used to. Fewer tourists, more locals. The occasional influencer. You learned to smile a little brighter. Talk a little faster.

But when things got tight—and God, they got tight—you picked up a second job teaching English online. What started as survival became something sustainable. Eventually, something yours. Your own business, your own pace, your own students across time zones who asked if Thailand really was that beautiful. You always smiled when they did. You tell them how sugary sweet the watermelons are.

And then there was the bracelet.

The one Yoongi left on the nightstand without a word. Understated but expensive in a way you only noticed when you turned it over in your hand and saw the brand pressed into the clasp. You kept it for months. Until the rent was due and the electricity bill was on its last notice and your fridge was nothing but leftover rice, soy sauce packets, and a bottle of beer.

The pawnshop paid you enough to stay afloat for four months.

And then last week—after months of hard work, after finding your footing again, you walked back into that same pawnshop and bought it back. The bracelet. 

Not that he’d ever come looking for it. But it felt right having it again. Like you were reclaiming something. Maybe not him, but you.

You think of Yoongi sometimes. Not in the hopeful, aching, delulu way you used to.

He’s no longer in headlines. Gone stone cold on socials. Even ARMY wants to do a recon mission to find him. But he’s doing his bid to serve his country so the absence must have been necessary for him. At least you hope so.

You play his music when you’re cooking, or on the rare evenings you chill on your balcony with a cold one and the humid breeze and his husky voice and the sweet piano melody lulls you to sleep.

It wasn’t clear then, but it is now. He simply was a blip on your timeline. An unforgettable 24 hours that changed the pace of your heartbeat. And you don’t hold it against him anymore.

If anything, he reminds you of your favorite line from one of his songs: “Future’s gonna be okay.”

And deep down, you really believe that.

It was one of those nights. Adele was blaring through your bluetooth speaker. And you’re out singing the shit outta her in the kitchen, lyrics be damned, crooning in your frilly little apron with a wooden spatula being used as your mic.

“Never mind I’ll find, someone like youuuuu…

I wish nothing but the best for youuuuuuu toooooo

Bla bla bla I bet I remember what you said

La la la sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead…”

It’s probably the onions but you’re now crying and it feels phenomenal and oddly cathartic.

Your phone chimes with a text.

Soomchai: Hey. Sorry I know it’s late. Stopping by to drop off dessert.

Strange, but okay. Everyone likes a freebie. Especially when it’s sugar.

You’re rinsing dishes when the doorbell comes.

You wipe your hands, heart racing for a reason you can’t name. You open the door.

And he’s there.

Not Soomchai.

Min Yoongi.

Wearing a hoodie just like when you last saw him. His hair is a bit shorter, face slightly more gaunt and just as guarded. There’s a weariness behind his eyes—one you recognize instantly.

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t step forward.

Says one thing as you struggle to regulate the thumping of your heart.

“Dessert?”

You stand there, barefoot and blinking at him, stunned into silence. You want to ask why now. You want to ask what changed. But instead, you step aside. Quietly. 

He walks in, a plastic bag with dessert in tow. Takes off his shoes. Looks around like the space is familiar and foreign all at once.

And then—

“I tried to forget you,” he says, voice a bit raw. “Turns out I can’t.”

You swallow hard, emotion clawing up your throat.

“Me too,” you say softly, lifting your wrist so he can see the glimmer of his bracelet. You haven't removed it since you got it back.

He nods, walking closer. He hesitates just long enough to make your pulse quicken.

You stare at him, waiting.

“Wanna try this again,” he says. “If you still want to.”

You don’t answer right away. You just step forward and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in the warm cotton of his hoodie. He exhales, slow and shaky, like he wasn’t sure you'd say yes. How could you not? He walks in with a pretty face, and even prettier words.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

“I missed you too,” he replies.

And that night, he proves how much.

“Butterflyfish,” you whisper.

“Hm?” His voice is drowsy, the sound vibrating softly against your forehead.

You tilt your head back, just enough to glance up at him—but his eyes are already closed, lids heavy, expression peaceful in that half-dream state right before sleep.

“The fish you were looking for,” you say quietly. “Back then.”

There’s a small pause. A breath. Then a soft, sleepy grunt of remembrance.

“Ah.”

His arms tighten around you, warm and sure, like he’s tethering himself to this moment. To you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

You feel it more than hear it—his lips brushing your hair, the words settling between your ribs.

“For helping me find what I was looking for.”

The End :)

A/N: … and now we know deez fish. 🤭

I hope this story was like a brief vacay in the tropics just like in Yoongi’s vlog, and made you feel like you were there in the moment with him. 

Well—tell me what you think! Favorite parts? Please leave me a note and reblog if you enjoyed this story! 🙏🏼😘

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human. xo

Check out my masterlist if you want more Yoongi.

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[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Watermelon Suga'

A Curtis and Honey One Shot

Summary- 1k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. On a lake vacation with the friends and yet Curtis has to have you to himself for a little while.

Warnings- Oral sex, semi public space, some bad cringy talk.

A/N- @bigtreefest I know it's late, but I really wanted to do a little something for your challenge. Please accept this little chaotic mess as my love for you and my contribution to Essie's Summer Lovin' 300 Follower. Congratulations babes.

A/N 2- Listen, it's been a HOT minute since I have written anything real okay. I know this feels rushed and all over the place, it's because it is. It's the best I can do right now. Don't judge me too harshly.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

Tastes like strawberries, On a summer evenin’, And it sounds just like a song-

Curtis’s tongue flattened against your collarbone, dipping along the edge while his nose trailed against your sun-soaked skin, making little flutters in your belly as he sucked off the popsicle sugar off you. The smell of fresh water mixed with his woodsy bonfire scent made you feel all that fuzzier. 

Just around the lake's bend, you could hear your friends splashing and laughing at the dock, feet thumping on the boardwalk leading from the rented cabin you all shared too far out on the lake. Curtis had you hidden though from sight. His fingers plucking at the bathing suit you put on earlier. In your hand, that forgotten watermelon popsicle quickly dripping away now that he had you distracted. 

Breathe me in, Breathe me out, I don’t know if I could ever go without-

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy in this Pretty Girl.” He practically growled against you as he pressed himself in closer, the bark of the tree he had you pinned against rough on your bare skin. Cold sugar droplets raced down your hand, sticky and sweet, smearing across his bare back as you grabbed onto him to keep steady.

“You like it?” You whispered back, a little more cautious of being heard when some splashing was sounding closer than before. Your popsicle fell in a mess at your feet, now really forgotten as his hot tongue started tracking back down your body where your bikini showed some skin.  

“You know this one’s my favorite.” He lowered to his knees in front of you, leaning back just a bit to get to look you up and down. You were aware, acutely aware of his gaze taking you in. His hands clasped at the back of your thighs, moving to lift one up over his broad shoulder. Your hand instinctively grasped at him to keep your balance. 

“We’re gonna get caught.” You squeaked while he placed a supposedly innocent kiss on your knee. But you already saw that wicked gleam in his eyes, the blue so intense that it made you shiver with anticipation. He had ideas, ideas that were turning into plans and then would be put into action. You were wonderfully helpless against him. 

I want more berries, and that summer feelin’, It’s so wonderful and warm-

Another press of his mouth was moving higher, inhaling against the softest part of your thigh, the pink of his tongue laying claim to your soft quaking warmth of flesh. His hand kept a steady hold on the back of your other thigh, unwilling to let you pull away from him. “I want you, want you so bad Pretty Girl.” He groaned, almost like he was in agony. “Let me make you feel good.” 

You knew he wasn’t in any pain, but hearing how much you were wanted, how he was so close and just waiting for you to let him have it. The rush made your bikini bottom dampen, aching to let him have what he wanted. Curtis continued teasing you. Presses of kisses were filtering against your spreading thighs, giving him more room. The buzz cut of his hair tickling your palms while you slowly felt yourself melting in place. 

Much like your popsicle is long gone now. 

I'm just thinking out loud, I don't know if I could ever go without-

You gave a sharp nod and felt him smirk against your skin in victory, now he had you. Unwilling to do anything more till you said it was okay. A finger hooked into your bikini bottoms and shifted the fabric till your perfect cunt was bare and with a press of his hand against your inner thigh making you spread wider just for him. 

“Fuck, Curtis.” You hissed at the feeling of him, the broadness of his shoulders, the strong hold of his hands spreading you, his tongue making you quiver in anticipation. You wanted to sink him into you and with your watermelon-sticky hands pressing against the back of his head, pushing him closer to you. He felt so good and right now in that moment, it was all you could allow yourself to think about. 

How his tongue sucked on your lips and spread them to lap away at your slick, his heavy groan rattling through you while he feasted on you, teasing your aching clit till you wanted to push him closer or away. Your hips started shifting, matching his movements and he slipped thick digits into you, making you ride his fingers so he could watch you. “Thass it Honey.” His words slurred like he was drunk off your sweetness. “Don’t stop till you come for me.” 

 It was so easy to just let go, your head tilting back against the tree and moving just right, so close, so close. “Look at me Pretty Girl, that’s right.” He encouraged, taking a moment just to watch you start to unravel, all inhibitions you possessed gone. “Gotta see my girl come… you got my dick so fucking hard right now.” 

His fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing against your clit to make you whine and pant. “Please Curtis.” 

“Want me to bend you over after? Make you come on my dick?” He asked before swiping his tongue along you, and how the fuck were you supposed to answer him when you felt like you were about to shatter in the best way possible. All you could do was nod. So close, so close you just wanted to get lost in it. 

“You're so fucking beautiful like this…” Curtis sucked on you, the sensation shooting through you like fireworks. “And all mine.” 

You were his, so easily his and it made it that much easier to crash, knowing he had a hold of you. You felt yourself crest, dancing on the edge of bliss and then falling, everything floating into perfection while Curtis lowered you into his lap, his arms gathering your into him while you clutched at him, your mouth seeking his in a desperate sobbing kiss. 

I just wanna taste it, I just wanna taste it, Watermelon sugar high, watermelon sugar.

[hobicakess]

RED CHOPSTICKS | 2/3

SUMMARY: . The Min Brothers were fucking insane

PAIRING: Ganster!yoongi x reader / Law enforcement!AugustD x fem! reader

RATING: 18+ (I am not a babysitter. You're in control of what you consume)

CONTENT WARNING: porn with HELLA plot   violence, plus sized reader , afro asian reader , dead bodies , blood , slight gore mention, stalking , twin rivalry , yandere, heavy angst, nonconsensual recording + photo taking , death threats towards innocent people, cheating, mc is very ... not smart! ( for the plot ofc ) , gang violence, reader not having a great relationship with law enforcement, reader has a criminal record ( don't we all? ) , murder , character death, guns, kidnapping ( kind of ) , e2l ( more like fuck buddies ) , hints to a robbery, SMUT hate fucking , clit / coochie smacking , bondage with a tie , overstimulation , degradation , gagging, car sex , bratty reader , dom!augustd , sub!reader , spanking , biting , spit mention, i hope that's all.

TAG LIST : @kooliv @princxssly82 @btsw1fe @princess-sunshyn @goldenmidnight @borahaerhy @itzz-me-duh @akiiron @thisladysperspective @kooliv @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop @jenniexjenny @bashbri @cherryjenie

A/N: this is my longest fic ive ever written! the amount of times ive scraped this and rewrote it should be illegal. i honestly didn't see it becoming this big all i wanted was for me to hunch the police 🫤 WELL HERE WE ARE NOW!!!

Looking a man in the eye and shooting him dead was never on your bucket list of things to do. You always wanted to go to Hawaii and lounge around in a tropical setting, or a picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower but you simply weren't normal enough for that.

You were at your mailbox boredly flicking through the bills and useless advertised telegrams when a bright yellow envelope caught your eye.

You tuck the rest of the envelopes under your arm— using the acrylic nail on your index finger to open it. Slowly you began to remove the endless series of pictures. They all contained you and Yoongi together in multiple situations. One of you holding hands and walking into your apartment, the other of the two of you coming out of the car together. Your hair was disheveled, your hand tugging at the top of your dress, a wide smirk on Yoongi's face as his eyes looked directly into the camera fixing at his pants.

You swallow hard, heart beating a bass drum in your ears.

This is exactly what Yoongi warned you about in the beginning of your relationship.

“Y/N L/N?” You jumped shoving the photos into the envelope turning towards the voice. You are met with a man, his eyes a light shade of brown and his hair dark and curly.

“Who's asking?'' Clearing your throat, the grip on your once useless mail got tighter watching him dig into his pocket, pulling out his golden badge.

“Detective Kim Taehyung, I’d like to talk to you back at the station. Little birdy told me you know the whereabouts of Min Yoongi. Otherwise known as ‘Suga’.

You gulped, looking over his shoulder and seeing his partner leaning on the edge of his patrol car the ripped man throwing you a smile and wave. The bunny like smile didn’t even match his hulking figure.

“Well, your little birdy? Was wrong Mr. Kim have a good rest of your day.”

“Please don’t make this any harder Ms” You begin to walk away from the fed quickly, descending up the stairs of your home.

This is exactly what Yoongi didn't want.

“Y/N L/N you’re under arrest for the murders of Kim Hongjoon, Song Mingi, and Choi San"

At the Seoul police station, you were roughed up and thrown into a cold interrogation room. Rubbing your raw wrist throbbing from being bound too tight by the handcuffs you were unlawfully forced in. Groaning your head banged on the cool metal table. The names of any of the men Detective Kim had listed didn't ring any of the bells inside your head. You had your petty crimes throughout your youth, but you were partially civil enough to not murder anybody. This was a tactic to get you to spill what you knew about your boyfriend, and his very illegal line of work. Hell, you didn’t really know anything but, in all honesty, you were ready to fold when he pulled his badge from his pocket. You and law enforcement never mixed well.

You hear the door open, making you sit up straight with a scowl deep on your face. "No one read me my rights."

He chuckled, his dark hair shiny in the low yellow lights. He turned, and your mouth dropped open. “I'll be sure to scold my officers.”

This man was a carbon copy of your Min Yoongi.

The only difference was that the scar on the left side of his face looked to have healed better and was faint. Unlike your boyfriends, whose scar was still an angry, bright shade of red, thick, and tissuey leaving him partially blind.

You knew your boyfriend had a brother. A brother who was in some type of higher up position working for him and covering his messy jobs. Though he rarely talked of him in greater detail, Yoongi had failed to let you know of his very identical twin. “You might catch flies Mrs. Y/n”, setting a large binder on the cold table and taking a seat in the wooden chair in front of you. You shut your mouth, mind running a million miles per hour.

“Seems like he doesn't talk about me much” A noise of disapproval left his lip. Lending you his hand, “Detective August, I requested your presence here in regard to my brother current whereabouts”

Your mouth turned into a thin line, and boy you really wished you knew. “I don’t know what you're talking about...” he hummed, cracking open the large binder skimming through it.

Your body stiff as he read off a file everything about you, “Your grades were decent in high school, though you dropped out suddenly in the middle of your senior year, you were homeless for a year after that, and you have a couple petty thief's and three assault charges”

He looked at you, nodding “You and my brother are a perfect match”

“My brother keeps many women around” he started leaning back into the chair, legs crossing “But you? He's kept you around for the longest, seven months?”

He whistled mockingly, “That's a world record. What makes you so special, huh?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, nails digging deep into your skin as your leg bounces with anxiety. He was pissing you off and the smirk told you he knew it. You could jump over the table and punch him for being an asshole cop and just for unfortunately sharing the same face of your absent boyfriend, but you didn't need another assault charge on another cop.

"And what the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“I always keep tabs on my little brother, always running around and making messes around the city"

So, you're his personal maid?" Watching his jaw clench you smile in satisfaction.

He harshly began to pull out batches of pictures, men whose faces you've seen before somewhere in your life. Till it clicked in your brain— all of these men have tried to make a pass at you over the past couple of months of you dealing with Yoongi romantically. The next handful of photos he pulled were them all laying in pools of their own blood.

"Very sloppy jobs done by yours truly."

Your stomach twisted in knots. You knew what Yoongi was capable of, but all of this for you? You swallow hard, letting a loud sigh leave your lips. "I haven't heard anything from him in 3 weeks he never tells me where he is, what he's doing, or when he's coming back”

August cursed under his breath, hand wiping down his face, "There's been radio silence for five days, were not even sure if he's in Korea anymore."

With that the worst possible scenarios flashed before your eyes, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Y/N, we’ll find him. It's not the first time this has happened”

“And how long was he missing?”

“A year and a half.”

You swallow hard, "And my murder charges?".

"They've suddenly been dropped. I'll be sure to remind my men to be less rough next time"

“Next time?”

The long months of being with Yoongi him disappearing on you wasn't rare. Being that he constantly let it be known that his line of work wasn't meant for you, and you didn't need to be involved. Three weeks has been the longest your lover has been gone. Three very long weeks with not even the smallest bit of news from Hoseok, his right-hand man. You were worried sick, but you knew your boyfriend was tough, and he always came back home to you.

Towel wrapped around your body, you sighed heavily, feeling yourself buzzing from the red wine you'd been consuming since you walked in the front door. It was near dark when Detectives Kim and Jeon dropped you off at home, apologizing for how forceful they were.

You didn't even know if you should have been talking to him and telling the man anything, but you just figured it was fine because he did cover a lot of Yoongi's ‘accidents.

After rubbing your body down with essential oils, you jump at the sound of the phone ringing. The caller ID stating ‘unknown' made you immediately press the green answer and put it on speaker phone, “Hello?

“Don’t you miss me, doll?” You stiffened hearing his voice for the first time in weeks made your body feel like jello. “You mad at me, princess?”

“Mad is an understatement.” glaring at the bright phone screen, “You're so cute when you frown” his words made your glare deepen, looking around your bedroom.

“Is there a fucking cam-” he cut you off. His voice was deeper than usual, all dark and serious, different from his usual playfulness. “I know you saw my brother today.”

“It's not like I had a choice” he clicked his tongue and mumbled shit over his breath and slightly ruffling like he was running his hands through his hair.

“I don’t want you seeing him again, he's a fuckin’ pig. You need to be more assertive. Hobi told me you folded as soon as Taehyung pulled out his badge”

You were at your breaking point, you haven't spoken in weeks and now he was trying to coach you?

“Oh fuck you Min Yoongi, our first conversion in weeks is this bullshit? I've been worried sick.” he stayed silent on the other end listening to you rant about everything. You weren't a dumbass. You knew that dealing with a gangster would come with extra baggage, but this was making your head hurt.

“Your killing innocent men for flirting with me? Then you might as well murder the 14 year old who gives me a free rose every monday”

“You think I won't?” blood running cold as a chill ran down your spin

"Yoongi can't be serious right now” His sigh was loud and frustrated, “Me killing six men for you isn't serious enough?”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want my brother around. Of course, he goes to you when I'm away. He’s already getting to your head and filling it with nonsense so he could have you to himself”

You scoff angrily, scuffing down your glass of wine. “You're so delusional, fuck you and your brother, I don't want anything to do with either of you anymore. Don't bother coming back here” he paused, then his laughter rang through the speakers like he was watching a comedy special.

“Youre hilarious, baby." he sighs and sniffs. “You know I can see you right? Been watching you since I left.”

Your eyes scan every corner of your bedroom. “You don't want me to come back and play with that pussy for you?”

“No.” You didn't answer just staring down at your clench thighs as his soft hum fills your ears, “You're not a good liar momma.”

“Fuck you Min Yoongi” he hummed, almost sounding like cats purr “I plan on fucking you.”

“l'll be home in two days, and I'm gonna make it up to you with this dick deep in your guts."

“I love you, and stop drinking so much your hangovers are the worst.” he hung up with that leaving you shunned to tears. Throwing your phone down you turn up the whole bottle of cheap wine.

Fuck you Min Yoongi

There were three things that you learned over the past 24 hours.

1. No matter where you went there were always people watching you.

Even your own house isn't safe. Yoongi somehow placed cameras in unknown places all throughout and his men were on your tail along with August and his lackeys.

2. Yoongi was so right about your hangovers.

Your head was thumping the moment you woke up in the morning, still you got ready for work.

3. The Min brothers were fucking insane.

Pulling on the detective's sleeve, you drag him outside the saloon. August had shown up today at your workplace asking around for you and causing a scene. Knowing how nosy and gossipy your coworkers and customers were, you'd be the hot topic for weeks, horrible for your lowkey reputation.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask when the two of you were furthest away from the shop and out of sight.

August stared you down, face blank. You hated that he shared the same face as your boyfriend, and he was just as handsome, but the way he carried himself was totally different from his brother.

While Yoongi was very loose and airy, August was tight and stiff with every movement. Despite that, both brothers had a very demanding and dominated aura, taking up space even in the largest room.

“ If you had to ask me something, a phone call or text would have been great. Instead of barging into my workplace like a madman”

He blinked once, twice, then again, looking behind you. You turn and see several people entering your job. He then gripped onto your forearm and dragged you into his chest. You fight against his grip, cursing him and complaining.

"What's going on? Are you crazy?"

"Listen woman" he hissed grip tightening as he shook you slightly. "My brother needs to tighten your leash before I have to."

You open your mouth to get ready to mouth back, but his look shut you right up. "Those pictures you got in the mail. Who do you think sent them?"

You swallow hard before gulping harshly, putting two and two together. He knew what was going to happen if you stayed in the saloon longer.

"Now be quiet and get in the car."

August was seated beside you in the drivers seat of the tinted Audi. You hated this, you wanted to sleep but everytime you dozed off August was there to flick you in the forehead claiming he wasn't going to carry you when the ride was over. You kept asking him when that time was coming and his answer was always a dry 'soon'.

"You have a very foul mouth for a lady," he grumbled, not even looking in your direction.

"And you're annoying. No wonder Yoongi doesn't like you”

He growled hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Me and my brothers relationship is hardly any of your business” With a roll of your eyes and a huff, you cross your arms.

“You two should have never made it my business." his eyes shifted towards you for the first time since getting put in the car. His eyes burning into the side of your head, but you kept your focus outside of the window, ignoring him. Your thigh began to bounce in anxiety as you got tired of his staring.

"Can you keep your eyes on the damn road?" You snapped at him. "You've spoke to my brother yesterday, no?"

"So what if I did." Looking back out the car window.

"You remind me of my brothers last whore. A dumb puppy." he said, you didn't even think when your hand raised smacking the clone of a man across the face. The raw sound of the skin colliding echoed throughout the car.

"You sound jealous of your little brother August." His face went through the most emotion you'd seen him show.

"Awe, poor August always in Yoongi's shadow, hoping and wishing to be just like him- ACK"

August foot slammed hard onto the break sending you forward, seat belt digging in your chest, head inches away from hitting the dashboard.

"Don't talk about shit you don't know about" his voice raises looking at you with slitted eyes. But you didn't have to know much to figure out that August was living in his brother's shadow. So you pressed on, acrylic nails tapping all over his buttons.

"Yoongi gets to do things without consequences while you pick up and clean up after. I'm sure you're tired, I know you wished you could make a mess and not clean it up for once."

“Get out.” and with that you opened the door, slamming it hard beginning your long walk down the dark road. Hearing the sound of the driver side door close your turn and see August. Giving him two middle fingers you grabbed your phone from your work pants, cursing as there was no cell service. You heard August behind walking steadily.

You must have misjudged the distance between you and him before you knew it you were lifted off the ground. Your phone is thrown to the ground and his shiny dress shoe is stomping on it. You claw at his back, kicking and screaming “You psycho! Put me down!”

A smack echoed through the trees. Your ass stings as you embarrassingly laid limp over the detective's shoulder. He walks both of you back to the car. There was no getting out of this situation and before, you knew it. You were thrown into the backseat of the car, an angry August looming over you.

You both were breathing heavy as you stared at each other, and before you knew it, he was smashing his lips onto yours. You should have screamed more, or headbutted him like Yoongi taught you, bit his tongue when it slipped inside your mouth, but you didn't.

You allowed him to put his tongue in your mouth. You allowed him to grope your chest as he grinded himself against your crotch and you let the moans slip from your mouth. High-pitched and whiny they were. When you two parted a thin line of spit followed his lips immediately latched hard onto your neck.

He was mumbling. You couldn't what he was saying with the way his hands roughly dragged your work pants down your ankles and rubbing you through your damp panties. Humorlessly he laughed,

“If this is the mess he would leave i wouldn't mind cleaning it”

"I wonder which one of you got the most attention growing up?" smirking as you egg him on further, making him bite your neck hard, you were sure there was blood leaking. "You run your pretty fucking mouth too much." Shoving your panties into your mouth roughly shoving your legs up to your chest.

Staring at your glistening folds he groans, slim fingers ghosting over your peeking clitoris. Your thighs quiver as his fingers sink into your wet hole, moaning against the damp fabric in your mouth. “I wonder what my brother would say if he knew how easy it was to get you spread open for me.”

Lewd sounds came from the bottom half of you as his curled fingers roughly fucked your insides, you were sure that the mess was leaking onto the dark interior of his car. He never looked away from your face, staring intensely into your eyes and every time you closed your his thumb would press directly on your swollen and sensitive clit. “You're gonna cum?” He asked obviously, telling from the way your thighs twitched and from the way you squeezed his fingers like they'd stolen something from you.

“Slut” he hissed, watching you fall apart in loud high pitched, pornographic moans. He didn't stop his movements until you were sobbing for him to stop, the buzz and sting in between your legs was simply too much to handle. “Tch...” he removed his finger from your insides smacking his palm against the wet flesh. His pants were hurriedly unbuttoned, and his hot flesh smacked onto your own.

When he sinks himself into you— gasping out loud nails digging into your palms. While Yoongi was long and curved at the tip like a dagger stabbing at your g spot, August was thick from bottom to top, feeling him throbbing inside you as he forced himself deep into your stomach. “This is why he kills for you, fuck...

His thrust rocked the car heavily as your moans and his occasional grunts filled the small space. Your noises muffled against the panties in your mouth, damp with your saliva. You could feel his thrust becoming sloppier and your stomach tightening. The grip on your neck loosened as he pulled you to kiss him. Your organisms crashed together as your thighs shook against his waist and he came deep inside your withering body. The two of you laid there breathing heavily as your eyes slowly began to drift shut. “If this is what gets you to shut up, I would've done it a long time ago.”

He huffs, swiping his fallen curls back as he moves to untie you, removing the cloth from your mouth as you limply laid. He wrapped his suit jacket around you and pulled up your pants still mumbling. “Sleep well, we've got 20 minutes left.”

You awoke with a yawn rolling over you blinked a couple times before remembering your night eyes popping open you wipe the sleep from them, blinking. “Goodmornin’ doll.”

Min Yoongi hovered over you with a gummy smirk causing you to gasp. Leaping up from your plaited position your arms wrapping around his neck. He hugs you back tucking his face into your neck, inhaling the sweet scent that always stuck to your skin. In that moment you forgot that you were supposed to be mad at the man too overwhelmed with his presence. He pulled back pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes were darker than usual. Sucken in from the weeks of lack of sleeping and you noticed how much thinner he was.

Then it hit you like a truck.

August, kidnapped? the car, his dick . . .

You were a dirty dog clinging to your boyfriend after getting your brains fucked out by his twin brother who he obviously dislikes.

You cry into his neck as he shushes you, he was way too calm about this and that was just the signs of a storm slowly but surely brewing. He lets you go softly, standing to his feet. Nodding at the clothes hanging on the dresser in front of you "Put those on and meet me downstairs." With a quick kiss he leaves you sniffing and alone.

Descending down the long staircase your bare feet pad against the cold tiles. You spot Yoongi and his men standing at the bottom. Yoongi watched you walk down hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, cigarette burning between his lips. He was quick to grab you when you finally hit the last set of stairs, arm snuggly wrapping around your waist as he walked you through the large house.

"Where are we Yoon?"

"Do you trust me?" He asked, as Namjoon opened the door to the outside. Your eyes widen in horror as you see what's behind the door.

He grabs your face to make you look him in the eyes as he asks you again more aggressively "Do you trust me Y/N?"

You sniff back tears looking the man you love in the eyes. "Yes. I do Yoongi."

He clicks his tongue staring at you a moment longer. "I don't believe you."

You let out a string of protests as he drags you outside, you stumbled falling to your knees. You hand smacking into the pool of blood. You gagged dry heaving as Yoongi scoffed at you snatching you back to your feet.

Blood staining the concrete ground as multiple bodies lay only inches away from you both. Their faces were covered with blood stained bags, and their hands and feet tied together. You could hear some sobbing and begging while others laid still more than likely dead.

You stood there shaking in fear as you watched Yoongi pull a gun from the waistband of his pants. While Namjoon and Hoseok pulled a squirming man in front of you. "You see, doll everything I do is for a reason."

"I tell you to stay out of my business for a reason"

"I tell you to keep Hobi at your side for a reason."

He clicked the silver weapon as he yanks the sheet of the man's head revealing August. His face was bruised and bloody as he stared from the gun to you. A humorless chuckle leaves his lips as he bows his head to the ground. "If you shoot me, our pact is done, and you'll never see the light of day or your slut again."

Verbally wincing when Yoongi knocks the butt his gun against his brother's face. August makes no sound head turning as he spits the blood from his mouth. Yoongi crouches down to his level, clicking his tongue as he hums. "I'm not gonna shoot you August what kind of little brother would I be?"

"Grab the runts." He tells his right hand men, bringing in Taehyung and Jungkook who struggled against them. "You see brother you think you're so smart because you got your little degree."

"But that doesn't mean shit." He stands to his full height turning towards. "There's a reason our father gave me his empire and not you. You're predictable and impulsive you think fucking my girl is going to send me over the edge and make me break our pact by ending your miserable life."

He laughs, "Well August... I'm not going to kill you no matter how much I'm burning too."

He turned towards you giving you a gummy smile. Not at all appropriate for the current circumstance you were in. "She is."

- © hobicakess ! do not steal, modify, copy, plagiarize, nor repost any of the works on this blog without given permission!

[miscelunaaa]

give yourself a try | masterlist

pairing: yoongi x plus-sized female reader

genre/tropes: colleagues to lovers, angst, smut, mutual pining, coffee shop au

summary: You’ve got an enormous crush on Yoongi, the machine tech, and, if Jimin is to be believed, the feeling is mutual. A broken espresso machine and a snow storm are all it takes to bring everything crashing down around you.

rating: 18+ for sexual content and difficult subject matter

word count: 24.7k (complete!)

warnings for series: Frequent POV changes. Reader is insecure about her body and has a lot of internalized fatphobia. Depictions and conversation about mental health and insecurity. Panic attacks. Conversations about angsty back story that includes medical issues, a medical diagnosis associated with fertility issues and potential infertility, and a break-ups because of these conditions. Sexual content including but not limited to: making out in public, soft dom Yoongi, oral sex, unprotected penetrative sex with other birth control in place, creampie, daddy kink, and cum eating. The smut is all very very soft, in spite of these perhaps spicy to some warnings, I promise. 

***Be sure to read the complete warnings before each part!***

author’s notes:

What a labor of love this story has been to write. Everything is kind of a dumpster fire right now and I’ve been processing some shit over the past few months, and that’s when this story happened. It was supposed to be a 6k romp in a coffee shop with lots of crack, messy public sex, and abundant health code violations!!! And something happened and now it’s a 20k soft and feelingsy angst fic??? There’s so much I want to talk about with this fic, but I want to let it speak for itself. It’s nerve wracking; I’ve never written anything like this before. This is also the first time I’ve written an overtly plus-sized reader, so I hope I’ve done her justice. This fic is dedicated to every person who has been attracted to someone thinner than themselves. I see you, and I love you.

The title comes from a song by The 1975. They’re one of my favorite acts of all time; they sit on a shelf inside my heart, right next to BTS and Sufjan Stevens. Ironically, the song is not on the playlist I listened to the most while drafting this. Such is life! Here’s the playlist on Spotify. Enjoy!

my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3

∞ read the original teaser here

∞ Part 1 | 9.6k

∞ Part 2 | 11.3k

∞ Epilogue | 3.7k

∞ This story was also featured heavily in the Ask My Muse event I did at the end of March, 2022. That masterlist can be found here.

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2021-2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work. Thank you.

last updated: 4.2.2022 (updated wc and marked as complete. cap fixes.)

[lover4bts]

Dating suga would include

:listening to all his new beats

:having trust between eachother

:sometimes having to go long distance because of his job

:him buying you new clothes or anything you want

:going with him on tours

:watching run bts

:watching Upshaws

:doing eachothers hair

:cooking for him and the others

:random break dances

:him taking you to enterveiws

:you saying I love you first

[He is so cute]!!

Imagine your gender and race

[candywife333]

ANNOUNCEMENT

I am currently planning a 25 days to Christmas chubby reader x bts fic release. The idea is to release a one-shot per day with different themes all the way till Christmas. Hopefully I can pull through.

Wish you all a very happy holidays and I hope I can make it even better!!

I’ve officially started releasing the oneshots. Hope you guys like them ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[yoongle--boongle--pie]

Pechsträhne Chapter 5

Chapter Playlist- Youtube Music

Chapter Playlist- Spotify

Word count: Approx 17.5k

Series Masterlist

_________________________________________

Both Yoongi and Y/n’s faces were blanketed in shock. Y/n’s own mouth hung open in the shape of the same words that had left Jungkook’s, but they were reined in and unspoken as a way to hold space for his own. Scared that if she spoke it would pull them from the alternate reality that they had been put into, that he had agreed to something so easily without his usual fight. 

Yoongi made the first move. 

“I really want to say something snarky, but I’ll save it for later in favor of the current circumstances.” Yoongi’s charcoal eyes wandered over to meet Y/n’s wide and sticky ones. “Y/n?”

She nodded slowly, her neck that was beginning to feel stiff only letting her move it so much before it protested. “I will too.” 

Yoongi’s entire body seemed like it both simultaneously dropped, and straightened with poorly concealed eagerness. “Are you sure?” 

“I don't have a choice. I can’t in good conscience leave this behind on you. Not after whatever the fuck that was.” She shuddered as the memory intruded on her mind again, doing her best to repress it further down. 

Yoongi stood and began to pace with a restless vigor around his room. “Okay. That’s great. That’s-” He ran his hands once through his hair. Twice. Then stopped his ministrations and pulled his chair out from his desk to sit backwards on the seat in order to face them both. 

“We need to start at square one. I’ll tell you what I know so far, and then we can go from there. I’ll let you take the lead, ask me whatever you want.” He gestured to Y/n with his chin, and if she wasn’t so emotionally exhausted she probably would've kissed him for finally saying the words she’d been dying to hear since she had arrived. But she settled for asking the first question instead. 

“Why did my parents change their mind?” 

She didn’t need to be psychic to know Jungkook was fighting the urge to run at the discomfort of her question, but he stayed in his spot with his fists clenched on top of his thighs. He did not protest. 

“I can only have an idea, but I’m not completely sure. What I do know is that they are lying. The reason they gave you was bullshit, and they refuse to tell anyone the real reason why. I tried to confront your mom about it a few months after you had left, and she shut me down immediately. But I could sense it, she was hiding something. I think she has something to do with the spiritual unrest, but I can’t be certain. And then there’s your dad.” 

The end of his sentence hung in the air like a fishing cast, waiting for her to grapple herself onto it. And she did. 

“What about him? I know something’s…off.”  Her eyes glanced at his closed door and settled there, thinking of the sounds of his wandering feet. 

“Something’s got its claws in him, and they both know it. They keep him shut away in his private office or their room. She stopped bringing him out to dinner the moment I caught on. It’s easier to hide from things than face them.” Yoongi wasn’t good at hiding his disdain for her mother in his tone, and she was right there with him. 

“Is he like… possessed?” The word felt foreign on her tongue, having never thought she’d have to think of her father that way. 

Yoongi exhaled slowly, clicking his tongue in thought. “Kind of. You had dinner with him, did he seem off to you at all?” 

She thought back to her first night, recounting his overly positive energy and extremely welcoming demeanor. “I guess he was a bit more…happy than I had expected. I thought for sure he’d be stern with me, or pull me aside to his office to try and talk things out or scold me for running. But he didn’t.” 

“Up until the past year, he has been pretty down and even angry at times. He hasn’t been the same since you left, it really tore him up.” Yoongi paused, inspecting the way he must’ve seen her mind fill with guilt at the thought of her father falling into a depression over her. But she needed to know, and Yoongi shouldn’t have to censor the truth to spare her the consequences of her choices. 

“Don’t worry about how I feel, it’s important that we stay as transparent as possible.” What she said was honest, but it didn’t stop her from pulling her socked feet to rest on his bed so she could hug her knees as a shield for whatever was to come. 

Yoongi continued on, her response seemingly enough reassurance to him that she wouldn’t have another mental breakdown that night. “Out of nowhere, sometime last spring he perked up almost too much, and way too quickly- I’m talking the night before he was hiding away, and by breakfast he was up and practically dancing through the kitchen while he helped the cooking staff prepare the food. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have assumed he was going through a psychotic break.”

A new bed of unease layered itself in her stomach, and made itself comfortable. Last spring was when she had dropped out of her college program, but surely that was just a coincidence. Right? But then her thoughts meshed together- the way Hoseok had almost seemed to accept that she was back already. Jimin’s prodding into why she came back. The way everyone was so quick to welcome her.

He shifted in his chair, and rolled his neck to the side to stretch it out. “Then he started saying weird things.” 

“Like what?” Her words were whispered, her gut telling her she already knew. 

He tilted his head the opposite direction, his eyes closing. “That you would be home soon. Once that started, so did his night time adventures. Your mom was pretty quick to start caging him up and away from us entirely. She wants to look like she’s in control of whatever she’s gotten herself into, but she isn’t. And she knows that I know that.” 

Y/n’s heart dropped to her feet. There’s no way he would have been able to know she had dropped out. This clearly wasn’t a coincidence. 

“Did something I said mean something to you?” He cracked open his eyes to observe her reaction from beneath his lashes. 

“I dropped out of my college program last May. That was the first time since the first Christmas I had spent alone that I had ever contemplated coming back. There’s absolutely no way he could’ve known that because I have never even said that out loud to anyone before.” Her eyes were wide as she looked into Yoongi’s that had now fully opened, thinking about what she had said deeply. Jungkook shifted next to her, reminding her of his silent presence. 

“Why did you decide to drop out?” Yoongi asked his second question so far, his foot beginning to tap itself slowly while he thought. 

She blew out a puff of air. “That’s a loaded question, but the simplest answer is that nothing felt right. I kept just thinking about coming back here and trying to confront them again, or even taking the hit to my pride and settling for a different job here. I had even started to-” She gasped, something she had never put much thought to other than it being a reaction to the stress from finals popped into her mind with bright neon lights. “I had started to dream about being here again. It happened nearly every night for almost a full week before I broke. I dropped out the following week.” 

“Shit.” Yoogi spoke through his teeth, and rolled his tongue across the inside of his cheek. 

“What does that mean?” she let one leg drop to the floor, beginning to feel secure enough to have only one to hold onto. 

He exhaled through his nose before breathing out a quiet “Not sure. But it means you were definitely still being monitored by something while you weren’t here.” 

She physically shook her arms out of the chills that descended them in waves. “I hate that so much.” She shook her hands one more time for good measure. “Do you know who is messing with my dad?” 

 Yoongi shook his head solemnly. “Unfortunately no. Like I said, I can’t always get that many specific details from spirits unless I really know them. And she tried to keep me away from him as soon as it was too hard to cover it up for me to snoop around.” 

“Is that why she didn’t want me around you? Because you could tell something was going on?” She tried to cover the germinating feelings of rage she felt towards her mother by taking a few deep breaths. 

“Partially. I think she knows I’m still trying to meddle in places she doesn’t want me to, and that if we worked together I could get further than before- which wouldn’t be good for her image.” He shrugged, her question seemingly an obvious answer to him. 

“That’s not what she told me.” Jungkook spoke up for the first time since his agreement. 

They both turned their heads at his intrusion. He glanced from one of them to the other, they both silently waited for him to continue. 

“She told me that I’d-” Jungkook clenched his fists even tighter than before, his knuckles white and his face scrunched into a real emotion, not his usual mask of vacancy. He looked tormented by his own thoughts. “She told me that I would hurt you if I spent time around you, and so would Yoongi. That it would be in your best interest if we stayed away to prevent any…accidents.” 

“That bitch…” Yoongi shook his head with a sardonic scoff, and chose to turn his head to look out his window in order to keep any other expletives from spilling from his lips. 

“Why would you guys hurt me? I would have never in my life thought that way about either of you if she and others hadn’t started filling my mind with secretive nonsense.” Y/n inched to the end of her seat in provoked disbelief.

A moment of pregnant silence blanketed the three of them, Y/n's eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of them while Yoongi locked his on Jungkook. Jungkook shifted in his seat, but chose not to speak any further. 

“It’s because…” Yoongi started, giving Jungkook a moment to intervene if he wanted to, but he didn’t interject, so he continued. “Jungkook has similar abilities to mine, but his have… different strengths. I won’t go into the details because that’s his story to tell. Your mom however, has known about both us for quite some time. She only started getting weird about them over the past couple of years when she started seeing them as a threat to whatever the fuck she is trying to cover up.” He stood up abruptly, and strided over to his window to pace quickly in front of it. His entire body was tense, and rippled with agitation. “Fuck- no offense to you, but your mom is pissing me off. She’s just loaded with low blows lately, huh?” He choked a laugh that was void of any humor and he leant his hands on the window sill and tried to compose himself. . “She knows that’s a sensitive spot for Jungkook, and she stuck her fingers right on it and pressed as hard as she could.” 

“You do not have to apologize to me. I’m in the same boat.” Y/n held her hands up in a show of submission, both feet now brushing the floor as she shifted herself on the comforter to look at Jungkook. He was still avoiding both of their presences, but he still looked visibly upset and it disturbed her. What he was fighting with within his mind she didn’t know, but she still wanted to comfort him somehow. She raised the hand closest to him and inched it closer to his own stiff fists still weighing heavily on his lap. She let her hand hang in the air above his own, giving him the chance to pull away from her if he wanted to, but he just looked at it with a distant look in his eyes. Y/n brushed her fingers across his knuckles with as much tenderness as her still slightly shaky hands could muster, and when he didn’t retract himself she grabbed his hand with more confidence. Worming her fingers into the middle of the fist and spreading it open in an effort to try and ease the tension from within it. His fingers twitched to close around hers, but stopped themselves each time they made the move to try. She let the gesture speak for itself for a minute, before lifting both of their hands and giving them a gentle shake. 

“See? I’m okay. Nothing to be worried about. If you don’t want to tell me anymore right now you don’t have to.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a small reassuring smile, leading their conjoined hands to rest on her lap where she sandwiched his hand with her free hand to guide his fingers closed around her own. She wasn’t sure if it helped, but he wasn’t running away and his shoulders slumped down ever so slightly -so it had to be doing something. 

Yoongi turned back around, taking in the sight of the two of them with a sigh before coming to plop down on her other side. “What else do you want to know?” 

She thought for a moment, before deciding to change the subject for a moment in order to spare Jungkook a moment to relax further.  “The spirits that-” She broke off as the hand on top of their intertwined ones instinctually lifted up to brush across her neck, Yoongi’s eyes following the movement closely. “-that were in my room. The woman looked vaguely familiar, but the man I couldn’t recognize.” She tried to picture them again in an attempt to find anything she could latch onto, but it made her heart race much too quickly everytime she would get to the man’s face- even with trying to use Jungkook's warm hand gently squeezing her own as a tether to reality. “Have you seen them before?” 

Yoongi didn’t look away from the hand resting on her neck as he spoke. “I would hope at least one of them would look familiar- they’re your ancestors. I’ve only seen them in their full apparition a handful of times, but I often sense their imprints around the house. They have a pretty recognizable story, so it's easier for me to be certain of their identity. Do you know about what happened to Hadwin’s wife, Annelise?” He finally looked up at her eyes as he asked his question.  

She hummed in acknowledgement, the face of the woman suddenly aligning with an old, fuzzy black and white picture she had seen a few times in one of their family photo books as a child. “She was the one that passed away during premature labor, right?” She tried to pull anything else about them from her memory, but her parents had always tended to avoid the more upsetting parts of their family history when they would tell it to them as children. 

Yoongi nodded. “ Premature labor or a miscarriage it's not certain. Healthcare wasn’t as great back then as it is now. Either reason, they’ve always been one of the more…depressed couples around the property for obvious reasons. The past couple of years though, their feelings have been amplified tenfold. She used to show up all the time in my bathroom and where she goes, Hadwin follows. He’s overly protective of her, used to always yell at me when he saw me get too close. He only came at me once, but I thought it was just him trying to scare me away. I put up warding in my room since then- but I still hear her crying sometimes. That’s how I can tell she is trying to show herself. I could hear her through your wall and sensed that something was  very wrong. I just didn’t know how wrong, so I went to get back up.” His eyes flickered to the side of Jungkook’s head, then back to hers, where they shined with remorse. “I should’ve gone to get you first. I’m sorry-” 

She held her hand up to cut him off. “It’s fine. You didn’t know -not fully anyway. What’s important now is figuring out how to prevent it from happening again, or trying to.” Which brings me to my next question.” She felt a rush of determination in her soul, her residual fear temporarily pushed aside by the revival of anger at her mother. “How do we stop them?”    

He laughed lightly and gave her a small crooked smile. “You were attacked by a ghost not more than 15 minutes ago, and you already want to get started?” His shoulder bumped hers playfully, dominoing her to bump Jungkook’s, who’s head lifted to look at them both with scrunched brows in response. 

“Yeah. I’m not just gonna let that motherfucker make me catch a glimpse of heaven’s gate and just sit by and let him get away with it.” She tried to crack a joke at her own misery, but Yoongi’s face was wiped of anything casual by the end of her sentence. 

“Holy shit- Was it that bad?” His wide and worried eyes scanned her face and neck again, and the playfulness that was previously present was gone. 

“I thought you could tell?” She tilted her head in confusion, and finally let her hand drop from her neck and land lamely in her lap. 

“I could tell you were scared shitless and I saw that your neck was red, but I didn’t think-” Y/n got a sudden feeling of Deja Vu when Yoongi’s large hands pushed her jaw up to inspect her neck. He let out a quick grumble before leaning over to turn on his bedside lamp, his hands finding her jaw again and tilting it side to side. “Fuck. You’re starting to bruise.” 

That made Jungkook finally seem to come back to life from his inner turmoil, and release a displeased grunt. “What?” His voice was wobbly and from the direction her head was tilted she could faintly catch him also turning to look again. 

She jumped up from her spot, untangling herself from the two of them and rushing into his bathroom to look. The second she smacked the light on, she had to hold in the urge to cry again. Faint purple and red splotches were already starting to rise to the surface of her skin in a line where the man -no, Hadwin, one of her own great uncles- had tried to strangle her. She saw the tears building as she began to feel her chest restrict, her ribs felt like they were crushing her lungs in on themselves.  This threatened to tip her over the edge into another panic attack but she held her ground. Before she could pass the point of no return Yoongi stepped in to lean against the door with a grave air about him. 

“We need to take you somewhere. We don’t know if there’s something more seriously injured that we can’t see.” 

She shook her head frantically. “ And tell them what? ‘Hey doctor, I know this looks really fucking suspicious but it was a ghost, I swear! Totally not the two men whom her mom hates right now that brought her in!’ They will for sure buy that and not try to question anything.” She couldn’t keep her hands still, they came to perch their palms on her forehead in distress.  Yoongi seemed to not know what to say as Jungkook squeezed into the doorway to stand next to him, his arms crossed over his chest and a defiant look on his face. 

“Oh god…” She tried to will the tears away by focusing on stress more than sadness, leaving her eyes with just a nervous sheen over them. “I’m supposed to be up at five in the morning tomorrow to start down to D.C with Jimin and Taehyung. How am I going to cover this? How am I going to be around anyone until this decides to clear up? I’m not even going to be able to go to sleep after this-” She tugged at her collar in a futile effort to stretch it up higher, but it just slipped right back down to rest at the base of her neck.  “Can we go to a convenience store or something? Is anything even open? I need a color corrector and a very expensive setting spray to even think about trying to cover it up.” He placed her hands on the edge of his sink in exasperation before adding on a “And the biggest scarf known to mankind.” 

“We can try but it’s nearly ten.” Yoongi rubbed his forehead with a tired sigh. 

“Go check the green room. They have a bunch of makeup stuff in there that gets left behind all of the time. Cleaning staff takes stuff like that home, extra goes into a lost and found box.” Jungkook seemed to disapprove of her not going to a doctor, but gave up the information with little fight. 

“Would one of you mind sneaking down there? I don’t want to run into anyone like this.” She gestured to the still darkening bruise, looking at them with pleading eyes. 

Jungkook huffed and nodded. “You stay here, I’ll be back.” He pointed at the both of them, leaving a longer emphasis on Yoongi than Y/n thought necessary, before slipping from the room quickly. 

“I guess I can keep asking you questions while we wait?” Y/n looked back at him through the mirror, and he gave a half hearted shrug in response. 

“We can, but if Jungkook is going to be joining our little demon hunting partnership I should probably wait until he comes back to go over any plans of action.” The way he kept staring at her neck made her feel a bit insecure, even though she knew she shouldn’t be. A beat of silence passed, and they just looked at each other until he broke it again. 

“Y/n, I’m really fucking sorry I didn’t go to you first. We could’ve gone to get Jungkook together. If I had been any slower you could’ve-” 

“But I didn’t.” She turned to face the real him instead of his reflection. “That’s what I have to keep reminding myself of- Is that I didn’t die. I’m here and we will have to figure something out- and quickly. There’s no way I’m sleeping in there until we do, I’d rather sleep in the greenhouse.” 

He didn’t seem to fully accept the circumstances, but something she said took his mind off of his guilt enough for him to think of something else. The quick glimpse of his tongue peaking out to wet his bottom lip gave away that he was cooking something up in that brain of his. 

“I can take your room tonight and you can stay here if you’d like. While you’re gone tomorrow, I’ll bring Namjoon up during lunch and we can ward your room off as best as we can.” Before he even finished his sentence he had already made up his own mind, disappearing into his room and opening his closet. He wrenched out a small bag to stuff his workman’s suit in it, and moved to hunch over his desk and dressers to scoop his things messibly into the opening. 

She followed back into his room after him, a protest already poised on the tip of her tongue. “I can’t possibly in good conscience make you sleep in there- not after what happened to me.” He scoffed in response and pulled the string of his bag closed. 

“Y/n, you almost died because of a poor decision on my part. I can handle a couple spooks for tonight if it means they can’t try to do it again. And anyways, I can sense them and have experience telling them to fuck off. This isn’t my first rodeo.” His words were slightly muffled as he rummaged through his shoes, trying to find his work boots. He stood up with a quiet ‘ah’, a pair of black steel toe boots dangling by the laces from his right hand. 

“Well, I’ll need clothes for tomorrow then at least. I don’t want to have to wake you up at four-thirty just so I can grab some pants.” She felt guilty for not putting up a bigger fight, but she couldn’t deny the small part of her that rejoiced at not having to sleep in that room tonight. And she guessed by the way he was giving her a teasing smile, that he could sense it. 

“Do you want to tell me what to grab? Or do you want to come with me and grab stuff?”  

She settled for going with him, not wanting him to have to carry a bunch of her stuff back and forth for her. When they left his room and turned into hers, it took her a moment to collect the confidence to round the corner. She kept expecting Hadwin’s rotten face to be staring back at her, or for the woman to be crying in  a heap on her bathroom floor still. Just waiting for her to walk right back into their awaiting arms. But neither were there. Her room was silent and empty as if nothing had ever happened, but the air hung heavy with the unseen, and she hated it. Yoongi set his things at the foot of her bed, and insisted on helping her grab what she needed- she didn’t need to have his psychic senses to know that they were on the same page- she shouldn’t linger in here for very long.  While she grabbed her clothes and folded them into a pile to make them easier to carry over, he took charge of gathering her basic toiletries for her. She was palming through a couple turtlenecks and trying her best to focus on weighing the coverage options, but her mind kept wandering to the line of black salt at the base of her door and up to the wooden box tucked away above her head. Pausing for a moment to inspect it with her eyes, her mind waded to the shore of a new question to ask. 

“Yoongi,” She called over her shoulder, and he wasted no time poking his head around to check on her with an affirmative hum. “What were you doing at the lake?” 

His body followed his head out of the bathroom, his hands juggling her toothbrush, make up bag and the travel bag she had shoved underneath the sink the day she had arrived. He was zipping it closed as he spoke. “I was trying to get a read on her.” 

Her. He didn’t have to clarify any further. 

“And did you?” Y/n’s hands hooked loosely on a brown turtleneck and gave it a gentle tug off of its hanger. “Get anything from her, I mean.” 

He sighed and shook his head dejectedly. “No. I rarely ever do.” He scratched a brow and placed the bags next to her leaning stack of poorly folded clothes. “Actually…” He picked up the long white sweater placed on top and shook it out, tucking the sleeves in neatly and folding it forward- much nicer than she had originally done. 

“I was hoping you would be able to help with that. You were able to draw her out within 24 hours of being here, yet I try multiple times a week and get nowhere. I think she’s an important piece of the puzzle as to what’s going on. And whenever I try to scope around it’s like she’s…” He trailed off as he folded her jeans for her, a low rumble emitting from his throat as he thought on what to say next. “Covered. Hidden away. She’s there, but it’s like something doesn’t want me to reach her.”

“Oh.” It should’ve filled her with fear, thinking of her sister’s dark eyes and shrieking voice. Or picturing how she looked standing in her room, her small voice calling for her to wake up. But it didn’t. It filled her with irrepressible fury at the thought of something using her sister the way it had, especially if that something had to do with her mother. She couldn't stop her fists from clenching around the shirt in her hands, as she felt the unmistakable urge to protect her. Whatever she had seen in her dream wasn’t her sister, and she knew that. 

They didn’t speak any further, working in silence as they folded and then carried everything around her doorway and into Yoongi’s. It was when she emerged from Yoongi’s bathroom in her sleep clothes, and padded her way over to his bed to sit on its surface again while they waited for Jungkook that her eyes began to feel heavy. Yoongi sat on his desk chair facing in the direction of the door, a book nestled in his hand and his ankle crossed over his knee while he read from its pages. The sound of the pages turning every few minutes was the only thing stopping her head from lolling forward onto her shoulder as she struggled to stay up straight. She was staring intently at his very enticingly fluffy pillows just beckoning her to sink herself into their soft embrace when Jungkook clunked his way through the door with a large cardboard box in his hands, startling them both from their tranquil state. 

“I wasn’t sure which one you would want me to grab. I just brought the box.” His sneakers thumped across the rug much to Yoongi’s protests to take off his shoes as Jungkook plopped it next to her on the bed, and waited impatiently for her to sift through it- which she did. Her eyes widening at the sheer amount of product to sift through. His perceptive eyes locked onto the stack of her things neatly placed behind Yoongi on his desk, and he shifted with obvious discomfort. “Are you staying here?” 

“I suggested that we swap rooms for the night until Namjoon and I can get into there tomorrow to put some stronger protection up. Is that alright with you, Mr. Guard Dog?” Yoongi gave him a teasing smile as he shut his book, uncrossing his legs in preparation to stand. 

Jungkook gave an almost inaudible scoff. “‘S fine.” But the angle his eyes were set at told them otherwise. Yoongi gave him a tired chuckle and pat his shoulder on the way to the door, which Jungkook tried to dodge, but was too slow. A low sound of disapproval escaping from his mouth at the contact. 

“We can meet up here tomorrow night after dinner. We should all get some sleep and get back to our rooms before your dad begins his night march.” He paused with his hand on the door knob giving them each a miniscule nod. “Goodnight, Yn. Jungkook.”  Then he was gone. 

Jungkook stayed, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room while she managed to find a few products that would work. She placed them on the desk to her left and moved to slide the box off of the cream colored comforter, Jungkook’s hands flying out to help her in moving it to  the floor near the door. 

“You can keep all of it, if you want.” His shrug was nonchalant, but his eyes held a kind of sweet harmlesses that had her heart lurching.  Images of his younger self, always offering her small gifts or being sure to share any snacks he was given with her came alight with comparison. He had always been -for a lack of a better word- more catlike than the other boys. Choosing to show his care in acts of service than with words, and enjoying quality time over being pressured to talk. She thinks that’s how they had worked so well as children. Her never stopping the needless flow of nonsense she would word vomit onto him, and him just listening- helping her collect whatever rocks she had wanted no matter how far, or spending hours while she lined her stuffed animals just right. It wasn’t until they were five when he started being more comfortable using his own voice, and that’s when he let his shyness melt away to let his more playful and outspoken behavior really shine. Sides of him she’s now only gotten to see glimpses of during their times playing games with the others, not being able to contain himself at the face of a challenge. The anger she felt towards her mother rose even higher than it was. Whatever buttons she had pushed, sent him spiraling back in on himself- and she could see it plain as day.  

“I’ll look through it more closely in the morning, thank you Jungkook.” She smiled up at him from her spot on the bed. He merely nodded, but the corners of his mouth twitched in an almost perceivable smile. And that was progress that she welcomed. As she watched him turn to leave, she couldn’t stop herself from calling out to him getting to her feet to meet him at the door. 

“I really don’t care what my mom said. Whatever she was getting at, she was lying. Please don’t let her get under your skin, I really have missed you- I hope you know that.” She let her words hang between them and she stepped closer. His expression was masked again, forcefully pulling itself to remain neutral and pulling his lip up by the metal ring for him to nibble on with his teeth. She could see it though- much like riding a bike, relearning his subtle changes was coming back to her the more she hung around him; his eyes churning with something akin to uncertainty to say the least. So instead of overthinking it, she did what she would have done when they were children. She hugged him. And much like he would when they were small, he stood still as her arms wound themselves around his middle tightly. She didn’t stay there too long as to not push him too far too quickly, but him not pushing her away was a good sign.  She released him to find him staring at her, his mask falling briefly to reveal shining eyes clouded with despondency. 

“Goodnight Jungkook.” She whispered. He didn’t respond, opening the door and shutting it behind him.

She waited a moment to be sure he had left, before locking the door and checking it twice, and shuffling with heavy feet over to Yoongi’s bed. Wasting little time curling herself under the plush comforter with a hefty sigh. She kept the light on until the last second, waiting until her eyes were practically stuck closed as she stretched her fingers over to tug on the lamp’s string, enveloping the room in darkness. For the first time since she had arrived, she didn’t feel like she had to force herself to will the spiraling thoughts from her mind. They simply dissipated naturally, letting her enter sleep with not even an ounce of fight. 

_______________________________________

She had woken up an extra half hour earlier than she had intended, in hopes to give herself as much time as she needed to blend the now fully formed bruises, creating an ugly necklace of reddish purple and yellow into an invisible memory. After spraying it with an ungodly amount of setting spray that she was sure was probably a cancer risk at that point, she only had fifteen minutes to pull her clothes over her head with extra care not to rub the sticky sheen keeping her secrets in place. 

She tiptoed out of her room and down the steps, where Jimin and Taehyung were waiting with sleep tinged eyes at the dining room table. Three mugs of coffee were placed in a triangle in front of them. Her feet only just hit the threshold of the dining room when Jimin’s tired eyes found hers, instead of his usual warm smile he seemed disturbed, and for a moment she was worried that she had actually wiped off all of her hard work but he quickly and unknowingly soothed those thoughts. 

“It’s so early, this is torture~” He fake cried into his mug, and Taehyung agreed with a zombie-like grunt. 

“I didn’t force you to say yes, you guys insisted that you would help.” She felt her nerves eb away, and the sweet tingle of relief flowed over her limbs at having not already been caught as she covered her nerves with a sip of the coffee Jimin held up for her to take. 

“What- and look inconsiderate after you had asked so nicely? What kind of person do you take me for?” Jimin shook his head in fake offense, downing the rest of his drink with an exaggerated gulp and slamming the mug down. “ Let’s get on the road before Taehyung bails on us.” 

Taehyung sputtered around his drink with indignant disbelief. “Don’t make me look bad!” 

Y/n and Jimin could only laugh at him as he stumbled to follow them, his coffee still in his hands and his jacket only thrown on one shoulder- tripping over his own feet to slip on his shoes that he hadn’t even bothered to fully put on. 

“Not as smooth as you make yourself out to be, are you?” Jimin jested, taking initiative to open the door and start down the steps with Y/n trailing after him, nearly missing Taehyung's voice echoing out from inside the house with a disgruntled “Oh shut up.”  

Once they had wrangled Taehyung into the car, th ride was mostly filled with just the voices of Y/n and Jimin as they talked quietly while he drove. Trying to keep their voices low as to not disturb Taehyung who had only made it 20 minutes into the drive before falling asleep with his forehead pressed against the window. The entire drive Jimin was his usual friendly self, but there was something she couldn’t put her finger on about his demeanor. There wasn’t anything in particular that she could pin down as to what was off. She couldn't tell if she was imagining the way his eyes would linger on her for only a half second longer than usual, or if he was actually licking at his lips more than usual or if she was just looking into things too much with her heightened anxiety and her own constant checking of her neck in the passenger side window. 

Taehyung had only risen once they stopped outside of a fast food restaurant for breakfast 30 minutes outside of the city to slur his order over Jimin’s shoulder. Once the bag was placed in her lap with her as the designated distributer, Taehyung finally began to participate in the conversation. 

“So how much are we expecting?” He took a very large bite into one of his breakfast burritos and a sip of his second coffee, staring up at them from between the front seats. 

Y/n pensively took a sip of her own drink. “Just the stuff from my room and a couple boxes from the shared space.” She giggled and tossed a hashbrown into her mouth from where they kept them in the bag in her lap. “I can’t decide if I want them to be up and gone out of my hair by the time we get there, or if I want to have the pleasure of waking them up to the sound of me taking the nice cooking pot they like to use and my store of toilet paper that they decided was theirs.” 

Jimin chuckled at her devious tone, his eyes unmoving from the road as he reached his hand into the bag on her lap for one of the crispy potato rounds. “ Sounds like you really want them to see you take that pot.” 

“Oh you don’t know the half of it. They burnt all the others so I bought myself a small set, and they must have concluded that I had done it out of the goodness of my heart and were up for grabs. “ She felt her blood boiling at the memory of her coming home to find them scraping the bottom with a metal spoon while they stirred. 

“I’m glad I never had to deal with any of that.” Taehyung shook his head and held his hand out to pass him a few hashbrowns, and she turned her body to place them in his hand, wiping the grease off on her pants. 

“You never went to college or anything?” She kept her body turned at an angle in her seat to look at the both of them. 

“No, never felt the need to. I did take a lot of private lessons though -few kinds of dance and cycled through different vocal lessons.” He coughed as one of the hash browns went down the wrong pipe, patting his own chest and taking a sip of his drink to qualm it. 

“What kinds of lessons? Just jazz and the likes or anything interesting?” She watched him then choose to shove the rest of his burrito into his mouth, his eyes catching hers and his full cheeks resisting a shy smile. He pointed to his mouth and held up a finger, signaling her to wait. 

“Maybe you wouldn’t choke so much if you didn’t try to eat everything in two bites.” Jimin glanced back at him incredulously through the rearview mirror with a disdainful shake of his head. He took his hand off the wheel again to reach blindly for his drink, which Y/n picked it up for him to make it easier as she watched him pat around for it twice. He gave her a kind smile as a thank you, choosing instead to take a sip from it straight out of her hand instead of grabbing it from her. She lowered it back into the cup holder when Taehyung spoke up from the backseat again, ignoring Jimin’s scolding. 

“For dance I did jazz, swing and ballroom. Vocal was just done with an emphasis on classical jazz.” He wiped his face off with a napkin and peeled the wrapper away from his next burrito.

“He’s leaving out the best one on purpose~” Jimin’s teasing tone rang out from the front, a sly smile slinking onto his face. Taehyung groaned out reluctantly around his first bite. 

“Oh?” Y/n matched Jimin’s sly smile and they shared a mischievous look. “ You must tell me what this is.” 

“His mom made him take opera lessons.” Jimin gave a coy nod of his head, relishing in Taehyung’s embarrassment from the back seat, where his large bite stopped him from cutting them off much to his dismay. 

“Opera?” Y/n grinned wildly back at the man who’s ears turned pink at the wake of their teasing.  

He forcefully swallowed and rose up to defend himself. “Listen, my mom loved that stuff- it was her only condition for me to not go to college. If you guys tell anyone else I’ll tell Alonzo not to let either of you backstage anymore.” He used one of the hashbrowns he reached up to point at them as a threat before popping it into his mouth.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Y/n slid her fingers across her lips and mimicked locking them with a key. 

“Not with me though.” Jimin cackled and gestured to his cup, which Y/n held up again for him to take a sip of. 

Taehyung rolled his eyes and went to take another large bite but he paused, and with a hesitant look up at the back of Jimin’s head, he seemed to reconsider his teasing and took a smaller one. He washed it down with another sip of his drink. Y/n took note of the dwindling dark circles under his eyes, and the slight puff in his cheeks that were turned to watch the trees pass by at high speeds. 

“Thank you both for doing this again- Especially since I know you’re not a morning person.” She made sure to direct a look in Taehyung’s direction, which he returned with a small smile and a tip of his drink. 

Jimin scoffed lightly “He wouldn’t have such a hard time waking up if he didn’t stay up so late and drink abhorrent amounts of caffeine during the day.” He snapped the turn signal up and looked back over his shoulder to make sure they were in the clear to merge back onto the highway. 

“It’s not my fault I sleep like shit every night. That’s why I started drinking all the caffeine in the first place.” Taehyung shook his head, and tossed the crumpled up wrapper up to bounce off the top of Jimin’s head. 

Y/n laughed at the way Jimin had to restrain himself from pulling the car over and strangle him, picking up his cup and offering him another sip as a distraction that he took begrudgingly. His eyes flat in irritation. 

“What? Do the ghosts of the estate keep you up~” Y/n’s tone was teasing, but she also couldn’t deny she was curious if they would shy away from the topic even two hours away from the property. 

Taehyung gave such a large eye roll that she was sure would’ve made his eyes fall out if his head if he hadn’t had tilted it back with it. “Ugh, do you really believe all that stuff they say?” 

That had her doing a double take in his direction. “And you don’t?” She was so busy looking back at him that she missed the sideways glance Jimin shot her way. 

“No. It’s just a bunch of superstitions, and people predisposing themselves to look into everything too much just because the place is old.” He shrugged. 

“No way you have been around as long as you have and don’t have a single doubt.” Y/n laughed in disbelief and turned herself forward to watch the road run beneath them from the front window.

“Not even a little bit.” He stood firm, and Y/n was genuinely at a loss for words. She turned to share a dubious look with Jimin, but found his gaze steady out the front of the windshield, a subtle way to avoid her eyes and make it look like he wasn’t. 

“We are almost there, if you want to start making a game plan for when we get there?” Was the only thing Jimin’s soft voice said, and she wrinkled her nose in displeasure but submitted for the time being. 

When they finally got into the city and slid into the spot behind her shared living situation, she was only slightly disappointed to see that none of her roommates were home- but as she turned the key and swung the door open to see the state of things- she was sure it was god taking pity on them. It was trashed. Her pots were filthy and stacked on top of a tower of dirty cereal bowls, and paper cups and plates were strewn about the apartment on any surface flat enough to hold them. The smell of stale air and dirty dish water made her blood boil, and she stomped over to unlock her bedroom door that she was thankful she had enough semblance to lock when she had made her speedy exit. Thankfully it was in the same condition she had left it, and she heaved a sigh of relief. She spun on her heels and wheeled back out into the shared space, taking it all in with a twitching brow and her hands planted on her hips. Turning her attention back to where Jimin and Taehyung were propping up the flattened cardboard boxes near the door that they had stuffed in the trunk. 

“Alright. I’ll take to cleaning up what’s mine from out here- you guys can take my room and I’ll meet you there.” She began to roll up her sleeves but Taehyung stopped her by blocking her blazing path to the counter with a large hand on her exposed elbow. 

“I got the kitchen stuff. Just send me the list you made- I’m used to being on dish duty anyways.” He pushed himself passed her and took off his hoodie to leave him in just a plain white t-shirt and tied it up around his hips, his hands already placing themselves under the running water to check its temperature. 

She tried to protest but Jimin spun her by her shoulders and pushed her gently down the hall towards her room, leaving her in there by herself momentarily to grab half of the boxes left propped at the door. In the meantime to settle her rage, Y/n wandered over to her shelf and plucked her bluetooth speaker from it, smashing the power button on with more force than she needed. Seeing the blue light pop up, she connected her phone to turn on some background noise. She had to turn the volume up in order to hear it over Jimin’s loud clambering symphony of juggling as many cardboard boxes as he could through her small doorway. 

They didn’t waste time getting to work, falling into a natural rhythm of Jimin unfolding and taping the boxes up and her filling them up in disorderly manner, shoveling things in and holding it down while he taped them shut. Once all the boxes propped open, she set him on stacking all of the totes from beneath her bed and closet by the front door, and she stuffed her clothes carelessly into trash bags. She didn’t need to make it nice, she would just be unpacking it again later, she told herself in order to excuse it. Everything else she was going to leave out for free for any other struggling college student to grab, she decided. She no longer needed her comforter set, or the cheap dorm furniture she had barely managed to scrounge the money for -but someone else might.  Everything except the pots. Even if she didn’t need those, she’d be damned if she let them use those any longer. She’d either take them back to the estate's kitchen, or donate them. With the three of them, it only took a few hours to get her stuff packed away. Now they stood outside,  the fresh chill of the early spring feeling good against the light sweat they had all worked up from lugging the boxes and furniture up and down the stairs. She was tasked with supervising, and Taehyung took up handing Jimin boxes, where the latter expertly packed them away in the open trunk-somehow making more space with each tote.  The sound of a car honking behind her made her jump out of her skin, and Jimin nearly dropped the box of miscellaneous bedroom items in surprise. She couldn’t hold the fire that ignited in her gut as she watched her now ex-roommate pull into the spot next to them. Her hair pulled up into a sleek ponytail, donned in designer athleisure as she stepped from her expensive car and shot her a blinding smile that was practically dripping with joy. Not at seeing Y/n- no, she knew better than that- at seeing her leaving. 

“I didn’t know you were coming today, I would’ve tried to be here.” Her perfume and overly preppy tone nearly suffocated Y/n as she was pulled into a lousy side hug. Her sights already set on her two friends loading the car. “You didn’t mention how hot your childhood friends were. If you had I would have definitely pressured you to take me back to visit the old place.” She whispered into Yn/s ear, a smirk evident in her tone. 

Y/n blanched, and shoved her back with a stuttered out “Leave them be, Brit. We will be out of your hair shortly.” But Her ex-roommate didn’t seem to hear her, or she just didn’t care. Probably both Y/n thought as she watched her introduce herself to a very disinterested Jimin. Taehyung merely gave her a tight lipped smile as he lifted one of the large trash bags of her clothes on top of the stack of boxes. Y/n watched her roommates' obvious attempts at flirting with them with poorly disguised disgust; her relentless attempts only stopping briefly when Jimin turned to slam the trunk shut over her belongings. He didn’t spare her a glance as he stepped around her to the driver's side door, opening it up and grabbing his watered down drink and raising to his lips to take a sip. Popping his head up, he rested his elbows on the hood of the car and locked eyes with Y/n, completely ignoring her roommate attempting to block his line of sight. 

“You ready to go back home?” His agitation was layered between a thin veil of politeness, his people pleasing nature the only thing stopping him from being outwardly mean. 

Brit glanced back and forth between the two of them, taking a step towards Taehyung only to be cut off as he jumped into the backseat and slammed the door in her face, his own looking up at her from behind the tinted window with a boxy smile and a cheeky wave of his hand. Y/n reveled in her ex-roommates floundering expression having not been used to rejection, let alone from two people at once. 

“Gladly.” Y/n couldn’t help the petty grin spreading over her features, her face deviously bright with delight at one of her tormentors getting her just desserts.  She pushed past Brit and casually slipped into the passenger side seat, not bothering to give her any more attention. 

“Wait!” She clomped up to the driver’s side where Jimin was still lowering himself into his seat, him pausing to regard her with a sickly sweet smile. “Would I be able to get your number before you go? Maybe I can show you around D.C the next time you come to visit.” She bit her lip in a seductive manner, her eyes half lidded as she encroached on his personal space. 

His smile never left his face, but his tone was icy. “No thank you, I think I’ve seen enough.” Promptly shutting his door and bending over to buckle his seat belt. Y/n heard Taehyung’s window release pressured air as it rolled down a couple inches, just enough for him to call up at her. 

“Don’t take offense to him- it’s just after seeing the state of the apartment, we just can't be sure how important cleanliness is to you.” He didn't give her time to respond by rolling his window back up quickly to shield his shit eating grin. Y/n couldn’t stop the surprised bark of laughter that wrenched from her chest as Jimin quickly backed out of the spot and turned back into the side alley. Taehyung joined in with his own maniacal giggles, the two of their faces red as they slumped into their seats to face each other- Their hands grabbing at each other aimlessly in an effort to high five through their struggling breaths. 

“Now that was a bit impolite…” Jimin’s words said one thing, but his poorly concealed grin said another. 

“No- I’m a number one feminist and will always be. But sometimes when someone chooses to only sit as low to the ground as possible, the only blows you can throw at them are from their own level.” Y/n finally managed to contain herself, her breathing labored as she used the sites filtering from her window to plant her feet back on the ground.

“Agreed.” Taehyung's voice was muffled by his knees, having bent forward in an attempt to calm himself down from their shared laughing fit. Jimin had to bite his lip to stop his grin from spreading any further, and reached with his hand to turn the radio up to tune out Taehyung's residual snickers from the back. 

_______________________________________

The car was suffocating with the smell of garlic and oregano, a stack of pizzas precariously balanced on Y/n’s lap. Hoseok had called halfway through their trip home with an awfully coincidental craving for Italian food from a restaurant that just so happened to be on their route home. They had bribed him into agreeing to help unpack the car by saying they’d pay for it, which worked in their favor: because like their hero he had himself, Jungkook, and two luggage carts lined up at the edge of the driveway to load all of her belongings on. Jungkook didn’t look at her, nor move to greet her when she got out of the car, but she just took it as him still being nervous to be super social with her around everyone else. While Jimin took it upon himself to organize the stuff neatly on the carts, Taehyung and Jungkook had been assigned to carry each item from the car to his side with Y/n and Hoseok to hold the carts in place to keep them from rolling. 

“How was the drive?” Hoseok chirped over his full cart to her half full one. 

“It was fine! I realized halfway home that it probably would’ve been faster for you to just get me from my apartment rather than the Philly station last week- but oh well. Now I know for next time.” Y/n’s eyes followed Jungkook and Taehyung, as the latter playfully pushed the former out of the way in an unspoken race to the cart, triggering Jungkook’s competitive nature to leave him in the dust each time he tried. They must all be on lunch break, because Jungkook was still in a set of red jogger scrub pants and a red Wörner Hotel and Estate workman's shirt. 

Hoseok playfully whined. “You don’t mean you’re going to go back to D.C again, do you?” He had one foot propped on his cart to idly push it back and forth. 

She hesitated to answer, distracted by Jimin scolding the two younger men who nearly pushed him into the growing stack on his cart in their efforts to beat each other to his side first. A smile finding itself at home on her face at the spectacle. “Actually, I guess I’m not sure. I’ll see what kind of fun events are planned for the anniversary year and then I’ll decide.” She directed her grin at him, and his grew even brighter than she thought possible in return. 

“I’ll be sure to keep you in the loop for all of them then. I don’t want to have to drive you back to D.C ever again.” He winked back at her, but his words held more weight than his face and tone gave away. 

The sound of the trunk slamming shut shook her attention from their conversation, watching as Jungkook and Taehyng each fought the other to see who could open the passenger side door where the pizzas were left first.

She gestured with her arm to the two of them “Are they always like this with each other?” As she asked, Taehyung managed to wrench the door open with a victorious shout. His preemptive celebration proved to be his downfall. Because in the split second he raised his hand up, Jungkook swiped his underneath them and grabbed the pizzas, taking off in a sprint back up the side path to the estate. The first real smile she had seen on him in nearly five years rounding his cheeks as he ran, and and equally giddy Taehyung hot on heels. It made her heart warm with nostalgia at the sight, even if she was slightly bummed at his insistence to not look at her that way.

“Unfortunately, yes. Tae is the only one resilient enough to physically challenge him, and Jungkook relishes that challenge since all of us have given up trying.” Jimin rolled his eyes, tossing the last trash bag of clothes onto her cart. “I’ll push this, you just guide us where to go” Jimin gestured her to take the front, and Hoseok gave her a friendly salute as she took the lead. The two carts trailing after her steps. 

Jungkook and Taehyung had met them at the front with the doors open, both winded and no pizza boxes in sight. With the five of them, they had her stuff piled in the hall outside her door in no time. Her excuse for not putting it in yet was that she wanted to bring it as she unpacked, but in reality the thought of going into her room yet had her skin crawling and her hand itching to go up and poke the tender bruises hidden on her neck. They all stumbled into the dining room to enjoy the cooling food, tired and drained. 

Jungkook sat in the seat furthest away from her, and purposefully kept his eyes either on Taehyung or his plate. Y/n tried not to be offended, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty. Maybe she had pushed his boundaries too far too soon with the hug last night, but she tried not to let her thoughts linger on it by turning her attention to the slice of pizza hanging from her hands. As soon as Jungkook had scarfed down almost half of a pizza, he took off back to the hotel without so much as a wave to anyone. But maybe that was a normal occurrence, because no one seemed to bat an eye at his behavior.

Taehyung stretched with a deafening yawn. “I’m going to take a nap- gotta make sure I’m not falling asleep during rehearsals tonight.” Rising from his chair he clicked his tongue and waved at everyone, disappearing with the sound of his footsteps bounding up the stairs. 

The three of them that were left behind seemed content sitting in silence for a moment. Jimin’s eyes were clouded with fatigue, and if his slow bites were anything to go by, he would probably be stealing Taehyung’s ideas for an afternoon nap himself. She decided she would break the silence, finding it odd that Hoseok hadn’t jumped to do so himself. 

“Did you work today?” she dropped her piece of crust next to the already nibbled on on her plate and dusted her hands off. 

Hoseok grunted around his slice, pulling away from it with a thin string of cheese connecting his mouth and the slice. “No not yet- I work tonight at the hotel convenience center from 6-10.” He blotted at the grease left on his chin from the bite with a paper napkin. 

Y/n nodded passively, noting that he seemed a bit more quiet than usual. She eyed him from over her glass of water, watching as he kept shifting in his seat: his back straightening and slouching back down, or shifting his weight from one leg to the other. 

“Are you feeling okay?” She tilted her head at him as he shifted again to the left of his seat. 

He immediately halted his movements and nodded quickly- almost too quickly. “Oh yeah. Just get antsy sometimes when I sit. Especially from having a job that forces me to sit for long periods of time.” His response was nonchalant, and so was his posture. But the way in which his head sharply twitched to the side -a tick he has had since childhood- told her he was leaving something else out of his response. She didn’t pry, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. So she dropped it with a shrug. 

Once they had finished eating and the leftovers were wrapped, Jimin excused himself immediately. Her suspicions were correct about Jimin, had not more than a second after the fridge door had been closed did he bid goodbye to go lay down with eyes so heavy they were practically closed. Before Hoseok could slip away from her, she stopped him on his way out of the dining room. 

“Sorry I haven’t gotten to spend as much time with you lately. I’ve just had a lot on my mind with coming back, that’s all.” She shrugged apologetically, and looked into his eyes to try and get a read on his response.

“Gah what are you talking about? We see each other every day now. Does our time playing games together not mean anything to you?” His tone was coated in mock offense.

“No, I mean just us. I feel like I’ve gotten to spend time one on one with almost everyone except you.” She brought her fingertips up to fiddle with the pendant of a necklace hanging around her neck. 

‘Oohh, you want to spend alone time with your ex-husband. I see how it is. How scandalous~” His grin was teasing as he wiggled his eyebrows at her with a laugh. 

“Oh shut up. You know what I mean.” She shoved his shoulder back as he attempted to bring her into a hug. 

“Well then what do you have in mind?” His smile was warm as he looked at her with gleaming eyes.

Y/n wracked her brain for an idea, thinking through the pamphlets she had stacked in her bedside drawer when her eyes caught the upright phonograph in the corner. She turned to give him a simpering look.

“Care to join me for a dance? You said you don't go in for another three hours- I’m sure you can spare me five minutes of your time.” She skipped over to one of the smaller record holders that housed a stack of rotating favorites in it before he could respond. Plucking up a Glenn Miller Vinyl, she propped open the heavy top and carefully slid the old worn disc out of the package and placed it on the table. She took a hold of the small crank, and began to slowly push it in small circles. The steady ticking was the only sound in the room as she waited to feel the resistance kick in. Once it did she turned to face him, finding him still standing where she had left him looking almost lost. 

His usually upbeat gaze flickered momentarily, and for a second she thought he might turn her down- something that would have never crossed her mind as he was never known to turn down a dance growing up. But he shook his shoulders out, a reserved smile plastered onto his lips as Moonlight Serenade’s first note wobbled from the phonograph next to her. 

His voice was low. “Of course.”

He came around the table to her side, taking her hand softly in his own and placing it to perch on his shoulder before settling his hand on the dip of her waist. Grabbing her other hand, he led them in a gentle sway in time with the music. After she seemed to gain enough footing of the motions he deemed her ready to move in slow circles. Guiding her around the room as they rocked, she found the motions coming back to her with practised ease- having danced with him more times than she could count as children. If she looked hard enough, she could almost see his youthful face tugging her onto the dancefloor of the ballroom during one of the many parties hosted, or just during the day for fun to teach her what he had learned from his mother that day. 

“Do you think you remember enough for me to spin you, or should we stay like this?” His voice was right next to her ear with how close he was holding her, he had to pull his chin back to look at her face. 

“I think I’m confident enough to give it a go.” 

He lifted the hand he was holding and spun her twice in a large turn, letting her hang there for a second before giving a firm tug on her arm to twirl back into him. 

He clicked his tongue in approval. “Not too bad.” 

“I haven't had much opportunity to practice since I’ve been gone.” She wrinkled her nose in shame. 

“Well we will have to change that. Jimin and Taehyung would love to take you dancing down at the Adelaide I’m sure.” Hoseok easily pulled them back into a slow  graceful step, moving them in wider circles around the room. 

“Not you?” She looked at him hopefully. 

He breathed out a sigh through his nose. “I don’t dance as much as I used to. I’m probably too rusty to be down there competing with them.” 

“Well then, we will have to change that. You and I can get ‘unrusty’ together.” She gripped his hand a bit tighter as he swayed them backwards. 

He gave her a rueful smile and dropped her hand. The song coming to an end much faster than she had wanted it to. “We’ll see.” The next song started to pick up, but he was already making his way out of the dining room and towards the foyer. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/n. Thanks for the dance.” He nodded over his shoulder, before following in Taehyung and Jimin’s footsteps up the stairs. Leaving her by herself with only Glenn Miller’s ‘String of Pearls’ to fill the void where Hoseok once stood. 

She wasn’t by herself for very long however, because a very frantic looking Namjoon stumbled through the doorway before the song could end. His eyes found her still standing where Hoseok had left her, probably looking a bit lost by herself in the dining room. 

“You. Greenhouse. Now.” He pointed at her with his finger with an authoritative glare. His eyes were stern, clearly he wasn’t going to be taking no for an answer. He barely gave her the time to fumble the record back in its sleeve, watching every step she made through the dining room and out the door he had left open. He shut the door swiftly behind them and took the steps two at a time to get to where she was already making her way down the path. His shoulders were tense, and his steps quick as he led the way to the door, yanking it open without much thought. She kept her head down as she entered the threshold, feeling like a scolded child as she planted her feet next to each other awaiting his next command. 

“Let me see it.” His tone was not to be argued with and she immediately snuck a shy glance up at him. He was sucking his cheeks in, and he had both hands on his hips with one brow raised in a silent challenge. 

“I need soap. I covered it up.” Her voice felt small coming from herself. 

He huffed, and slid past her into the storage room. 

“He’s not mad. He just doesn’t beat around the bush when he’s serious. Probably where Jungkook gets it from.” 

Yoongi’s voice made her head snap up to find the source. She hadn’t even noticed him hunched on one of the back stools, black twine and an array of dried plants in front of him that he was fiddling with. 

“I didn’t get to take my lunch yet- it's been too busy. But I was able to just leave a bit early entirely in its place. Once we get everything in order we will head up there.” He didn’t look up from the small bundle he was stacking. He seemed to also be nursing the wounds of a scathing Namjoon if the way his ears were twinged pink and his head lowered was anything to go by. 

Namjoon rounded back around the corner, a bottle of hand soap and a clean rag in his hands held up for her to see. “Will this work?” 

She nodded meekly, and he didn’t wait for anything else as he stalked into the nursery room. She took that as her cue to follow. 

“Yoongi, grab some solomon's seal off of the shelf. The fresher the specimen the better. If it’s dry, get some hot water and pour just enough on it to rehydrate it and give it a mash with something heavy.” Namjoon called out from the back of the large room, his voice echoing off of the walls and making its way back to Yoongi in the other room. She had already left the entryway too early to see if he complied, but she could hear the distant clinking of some jars and assumed he had. 

Namjoon was leaning over a large sink, his hands turning the spigot until the water billowed off a gentle steam by the time her timid steps made it to his side. He turned, grabbing a stool in each hand and scraping them across the floor to sit in front of the sink. He didn’t ask her to sit, just gave her an expectant look until she lowered herself down onto its surface. He saturated the rag with hot water and lathered it with the soap until it foamed, only sitting when he was satisfied with how it looked. 

“Let me know if I’m pressing too hard, or if you want to take over.” He folded her turtle neck as far down as he could, and took the warm rag over her neck in circular motions. She winced at the abrasive rag running across the sensitive surface, something she should have really thought about before she did the second layer of setting spray. She didn’t speak up however, knowing very well that any pressure would probably hurt. She could tell the moment that the make up started to wash away, his breath hitching and a sudden long exhale following the pause. He didn’t stop his movements, just making them a hair lighter. 

She swallowed nervously. The quiet getting under her skin and making her self conscious. 

“How bad has it gotten? It was pretty bad this morning when I woke up.” 

He still withheld any answers, giving her an austere glance instead. 

“I’m sorry. I tried to run…” She felt like she didn’t know what else to say but to apologize. 

“Don’t. I’m not mad at you.” He halted his scrubbing in favor of rinsing the now discolored rag off to try and wash some of the product from its fibers. “I’m mad at the guy who’s unharmed, sitting at my table right now.” 

“He didn’t do anything wrong.” Y/n immediately jumped to his defense, not willing to sit here and have anyone else blame him for something he couldn’t control. 

“Like hell he didn’t.” Namjoon scoffed, lathering more soap onto the rag and holding it up. She raised her chin defiantly while he resumed his cleaning. 

“He didn’t. Stop blaming him for something he didn’t do, he’s trying his best to fix everything.” Her voice wobbled as Namjoon passed the cloth along the front of her throat near the front of her throat. 

“That’s exactly what I mean.” His tone came out harsher than he had intended, and his cheeks dusted pink. “Look- I know he has good intentions, but when you poke the bear, you’re poking the fucking bear. It doesn’t matter if the bear is doing something wrong, it’s still going to lash out at you for poking it.” 

“We hadn’t even done anything yet. Jungkook and I didn’t accept his offer until after.” Y/n tilted her head to the opposite side for him to have easier access to it. 

Namjoon made a noise of surprise from the back of his throat. “Jungkook? No way.” 

“Yes way, he even agreed before I did.” She folded her arms across her chest defiantly. 

This seemed to make Namjoon think for a moment, the stroking of the rag slowing down with his thoughts. When it didn’t look like he’d comment further, Y/n pushed. 

“Namjoon?” Her voice was warbly again as he went over a particularly stubborn patch of setting spray. 

He hummed in acknowledgment, but didn’t meet her curious eyes.

“Jungkook had seemed pretty torn about something my mom had told him. And I think I may have made it worse because he won’t even look at me today.” She followed his movements as he turned to wring the cloth out again under running water, repeating the same motions he had previously. 

“What was it?” 

“My mom had told him he wasn’t allowed near me because something about his abilities could accidentally hurt me. But I don’t see how he ever could, or why that would bother him so much.” Whatever she said struck him from his cycle, and he lowered the rag to rest on his lap. He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching briefly before he held his mouth open in search of his words. 

“What did you do to upset him?” He opened his eyes, scanning them over his clean up work. He didn’t comment on what her mother had said, but he didn’t look pleased.

“I hugged him. We used to do it all the time, so I didn’t think anything of it. I should have asked  him first with how long it's been…”  She trailed off, feeling suddenly embarrassed at the confession. 

A small smile perked on his lips and he brought the rag up to wipe away any leftover soap suds. “I doubt that’s the reason- not when what your mom said to him has been resurfaced for him to grapple with.” 

“What does it mean though?” Y/n was prying, and she knew it. But she wasn’t sure if Jungkook would ever open up enough to tell her on his own. 

Namjoon dropped the soiled rag into the sink and turned the faucet off. “It really is his story to tell Y/n.” 

She visibly deflated, her hopes dashed.

He rose from his seat, pushing it back where he had found it. “But like I said- he’s probably just processing what your mom said and facing some of those insecurities that come along with it. Let's go back to the front. The solomon’s seal should be good to use by now if he followed my instructions.” 

Yoongi was where they had left him,still  fiddling with the twine with pink ears. The only difference was now a ceramic bowl of what she assumed had been the solomon’s seal, now an earthy mush. His dark eyes flitted up to watch them enter, and widened marginally at the sight of her fully formed blemishes. 

“Jesus. Y/n, are you sure you don’t need to go anywhere?” He wasn’t hiding his concern at all, the twine dropping onto the table and long forgotten. 

She shook her head. “No, I will just keep covering it during the day the best I can and hope for the best. I don’t want any law enforcement getting involved when my mother already has a vendetta against you.” 

“And you will put this on every day until they are gone.” Namjoon cut off Yoongi’s response, holding up the small ceramic bowl for her to inspect. “Soloman’s seal has been used as a topical agent for bruising for a long time. It’s not a replacement for medical care, but it's better than nothing.” He dipped two fingers in grabbing a large amount of the salve, and smeared the slimy mixture all over her throat in a ring. “You might experience a bit of swelling over the next day or so, and your voice might be hoarse. Try and avoid others for the next two days- we can say you caught a cold or have allergies or something.” Once he finished pushing the tincture around to where he wanted it to go, he went back into the nursery room where she heard the sink turn on.

Y/n moved to sit across from Yoongi, scooting the stool in and folding her hands on the table in front of her. “So…what’s the plan?” 

“Well step one, we need to prepare the ingredients into different charms. I know my way around it a tiny bit, but Namjoon knows more about all of the properties and what to and what not to use.” He ran a finger thoughtfully over his lip. “It would actually be beneficial for you to help in some capacity- with it being your space and all. Do you want to help assemble, or do you want to finish them?” He laid his hands flat on the surface of the table and leaned over the small accumulation of items in front of him. 

She looked at the twine, and small mesh tea satchels stacked on the table and she thought. The wrapping part looked the easiest- and would give her the ability to learn from watching what they did- so that’s what she chose with her finger pointed at the pile. “That part.” 

He chuckled at her short response, and slid the stack over to her side of the table right as Namjoon swung back around the corner and blew past her to his shelves with freshly cleaned hands. He rushed around the room snatching up different glass jars as he went, only stopping to place some on the table when his arms got too full. He disappeared one more time around the storage room door to clammer around in there, emerging with multiple bundles of dried branches and sprigs of different kinds and placing them gingerly on the table in front of him. 

“Alright, are we ready?” Namjoon propped one knee on his stool while he addressed them, looking more like a college professor than her childhood friend. They both nodded in response, Y/n chirping out a childish “Yes, Sir!” that earned her a non serious glare from Namjoon and a muffled laugh from Yoongi. 

Choosing to ignore her he started on dividing the plants in front of him into categories. “We are probably going to want to cleanse the space first, so we will start with what we need for that then move onto the wards. Rule number one of cleansing is to keep it simple: Too many over complicated things muddy your intentions and make your goal less succinct. Each person has their preferred method. Some people do best with smoke cleansing through either hand made bundles, or incense. Others like to do sound cleansing, grids, sigils or some combination of all of the above.” 

Namjoon lifted up two large piles of stalks for her to see. “This is lavender, and common garden sage that I grew last summer. If you want, you can also add other herbs to it like rosemary, eucalyptus or cedar- but I like to stay with only one or two things in our bundles. You can always make two different kinds, or supplement with incense. Whatever makes you feel the best.”

He placed them back on the table and began to pull pieces out carefully so as to not damage them. “Incase you ever want to do this on your own, it’s important to note that you do not buy or use any bundles with anything labeled white sage. Not only is that a closed practice so it wont work, but it’s also an endangered plant -so it’s best to stay away from it entirely. From what I’ve read, blue sage and home grown garden sage is fine. I’m also just an advocate for growing it yourself when possible obviously, then you can always be one-hundred percent sure where it comes from without question.” 

Y/n nodded obediently as Namjoon spoke, soaking in as much information as she could from his words. She picked up one of the mesh tea bags and began to mess with the ties while he expounded further. Feeling oddly similar to how she felt in the few in person college lectures she had attended. 

“What’s important is both acknowledging historical prevalence in spiritual association, while also giving things their own meaning to yourself. For example: Violets are usually used for heightening spirituality- but I personally find them comforting and love using them in some of my own protective work. Individuality is just as important as tradition.” He finished trimming the sage and lavender to the height he deemed acceptable. “Maybe this upcoming week that’s something we can work on together, finding what plants trip your trigger and make you feel safe, comforted, powerful, and all of the above. 

Namjoon finally sat completely in his stool, shimmying himself forward and holding up a handful of each and passing it to Yoongi, who took it and began to stack them neatly in front of him. “I will pick out what we use today, and then I’ll throw out a couple options for the two of you to add as you please. When we get to the warding you can be a bit more personal with it.” He cleared his throat and began a demonstration for Y/n on how to tie them. Taking the small bundle gingerly in his hand, and winding it tightly to make sure no loose leaves fall, explaining that anything falling loose can be a safety hazard. 

They fell into a quiet rhythm after that. Namjoon explaining the properties of each plant he brought onto the table and handing them off to Yoongi to sort into neat woven stacks before Y/n would take them and wind the twine carefully around each bundle. When it came to the tea bags, he instructed her to make one for each doorway and window in her room as well as for her bed from the plant selection in front of them.  He then brought out small candles and pieces of parchment, drawing designs on them in pen. Smearing oils and dripping different colored wax on them. 

“What are those?” Y/n asked, wanting to know as much as she could in order to protect herself. 

Namjoon twitched his nose and kept his eyes down, following the drip of black wax onto the paper. “A sigil. In my personal opinion, I think when putting up wards you do it with someone you trust enough to keep certain parts secret from each other.That way if one of us were to end up…compromised or scared, there’s the safeguard of something being there that we don’t know what the exact intentions are and how to counter them.  You should each make something that The other doesn’t know about. Whether that’s today, or later next week. We can trade off- Jungkook too.” He snuffed out the candle with his fingers, and folded the paper closed so the wax stuck it together like glue. 

“We?” Yoongi’s voice was gruff. The side eye he tossed Namjoon held a thousand -seemingly irritated- unsaid words behind it.

“Yes. We. You dragged me too far into this, and I can’t in good conscience let you two keep going without offering my expertise to prevent whatever the hell last night was from happening again.” Namjoons face held a condescending air as he gave Yoongi a pointed look. 

“Fucking hell. Years I’ve been trying…” Yoongi shook his head and looked aimlessly upwards with a disbelieving scoff.  

Y/n finished tying up the final pouch and slouched with a tired sigh. Her hand came up to pick at the dried paste on her neck, in the middle of peeling off an entire section when Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s chiding simultaneously rained down on her in a chorus of “Don’t pick at it.” and “Leave it.”

She shot her hand down to her lap, her lips puffing out in hidden giggles at how similar they were behaving. Just as she was beginning to mockingly mimic the two of them, someone knocked on the green house door. The intrusion catching all of them off guard- Jungkook would just usually walk in. Her eyes ran themselves over to the foggy surface. The outline is tall and wide, and unmistakably masculine. The man whistled jovially before knocking again. 

Y/n’s hair rose on the back of her neck as she recognized the whistle, having heard it countless times as a child. She almost snapped her neck to look at the two men in front of her in full blown panic. She needed to hide, and quickly. Their wide eyes sharing the same sentiment as they bounced all over the room in search of where to shove her..

Her father knocked on the door again, calling out for Namjoon as he did so. 

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“One moment- Be right there!” Namjoon’s voice was breathless as he wrenched Yoongi from his seat by his shoulder and around to her side of the table, pulling her stumbling along with him as he passed her and into the nursery room. 

His voice was hushed and urgent. “Take her out the back. Now. Don’t let anyone else see her-” 

“I know. I got it. You go.” Yoongi grabbed her hand and tugged her to the back corner of the nursery in a run. Before he was able to open the door, she could hear her father boisterously greet Namjoon with almost too much enthusiasm. 

“Hey kid! I came to talk about those plans you sent over.” His voice trailed off just as Yoongi managed to unlatch the heavy slightly rusted lock. “Huh that’s weird. I could’ve sworn I heard Y/n in here. Is that her in the back?” 

She heard his loud steps start towards the room, but Yoongi wasted no time shoving her out first, closing the door until he was just peeking at her through a sliver. “Run. I can sense Jungkook, he’s probably back from the gym.” 

She was still frozen for a moment as she heard her father’s voice get louder, greeting Yoongi from the entrance. 

“Go. Now.” Yoongi hissed once more, slamming the door closed and locking it. His response to her father muffled behind the thick frosty panes. She jerked into motion, her feet carrying her as fast as she could from behind the greenhouse and up towards the front of the estate, avoiding the path in case her father happened to look for her there. 

The dewy damp grass crunched beneath her feet as she ran, and for a moment she could have sworn she saw a pair of black boots running alongside her from her peripheral, mimicking the same sounds. But when she glanced back she saw nothing- just her own footsteps indenting the grass from where they had landed. She didn’t care to stop and investigate, running all the way up to the front steps, and pulling open the door with more force than necessary to tumble inside. Her feet carried her up the steps two at a time, and down the hall to Jungkook’s room where she knocked in quick succession. He barely had time to open the door more than an inch before she flew in through the gap. 

“Close it! Please.” She managed to get out in between her labored breaths. Jungkook didn’t take time to ask questions, shutting the door immediately and locking both locks. He spun back around to look at her with unveiled concern. 

“Are you hurt?” His tone wavered, too caught off guard to mask his emotions quick enough and letting them bleed through. 

She shook her head. “May I sit?” She must’ve been more out of shape then she remembered, still struggling to catch her breath from her sprint.

Relief mellowed out his features, and he gave a curt nod. She didn’t hesitate to round the edge of his metal bed frame and plop herself onto the edge of his neutral toned comforter. He hovered up to her, scanning her with his blackened eyes. “What happened?” 

“I was at the greenhouse helping Yoongi and Namjoon make wards and stuff for my room, when my dad showed up. I ran from the back and up to you before he could see me- Yoongi said you were home and to find you.” Her breaths were slowing down as she calmed both her mind and her heart. 

He merely hummed in response, standing over her still, but his eyes were melting back into their brown counterparts. 

“Can I stay here for now? I don’t know how long they’ll be and I have no interest in unpacking in my room by myself or risk running into him.” She leaned back onto her hands, a weathered chuckle escaping her lips. 

He nodded. “I just need to shower. I’ll be right back.” 

He grabbed a fallen stack of clothes he must’ve thrown on the shelf near his door when he had rushed to open it, and slipped into his bathroom with rushed grace. She took the time to make herself comfortable, laying her back onto his bed and leaving her legs dangling off to kick around aimlessly. To try and keep herself occupied, she practiced recalling all the information she had learned from Namjoon that day, busing her mind with organizing the facts in her brain as best as she could to keep her anxiety at bay over how her friends were holding up -especially Namjoon and his inability to lie. She held up one hand as the nerves tried to creep up on her, and began to tick off her fingers repeatedly. Rosemary: Protects one from negative spirits. Clove: Protection and luck. Thyme: Protects from, and removes negative attachments. She wracked her brain for the next one getting further lost in thought, her dread for having to unpack bleeding into her productive thoughts and making her feel a childish reluctance to move forward with her day for the sake of not having to. The only thing keeping her from begging Jimin to help her with his expert organizational skills was the recollection that Yoongi had said they would meet up tonight to make a plan of action. She didn’t have to distract herself for very long, as within 5 minutes she heard Jungkook’s shower turn off, with him emerging moments later in a pair of sweats and a clean hoodie. 

He shook his wet hair out, and tossed his towel and laundry into the hamper placed by the bathroom entrance. His eyes looked for her the instant he entered, and locked onto her scowling features with a questioning eyebrow raise. 

“What’s on your neck?” He stood in front of her now, looking down at her with a scrutinizing glare. 

She shot up from her reclined position, in her haste to recollect herself she had forgotten she had sticky leaves on her skin that could get on his comforter. “Sorry! It’s Soloman’s Seal.” She took extra care to recall its name, the syllables leaving her mouth clumsily. “Namjoon said it should help with the bruising.” 

He sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in thought making him look angry for a moment before shaking his head. “No doctor, huh?” 

“Nope.” She gave him an impish grin. “Stubborn and reckless, remember?” 

This made the ghost of a smile grace his features, and he sat next to her on the bed. The same way they had sat the day prior. 

“Right. How could I forget?”  His tone was the most playful she had heard it be directed at her since she had arrived a week ago, and it made her heart soar at the baby steps they were making with each other again. 

“I’ll be too busy unpacking and fighting demons tonight for one anyways- remember?” She nudged his elbow with hers in an attempt to keep the tone light, but he didn’t seem to appreciate jokes about it as much as Yoongi did. She remembered the way he had closed himself off last night about what her mom had said to him and immediately felt guilty- backtracking her joke before he could get upset again. “Sorry- I know you’re not as comfortable with it yet.”

He looked off towards his door, his eyes distant as he let out a quiet “ s’okay”. 

Her cheeks felt warm with shame for ruining the inch of himself he had shown before she clumsily made him close off again. She hastily tried to change the subject,reaching for the first thing her mind could cling to. 

“I learned about some cool new plants today- well not new per say, just new properties-  Do you want to hear about them?” She knew it wasn’t a strong conversation starter, but she was trying her best with her limited social skills. 

He remained silent for a moment, thinking. For a second she thought he might’ve closed off again, his fists clenching and unclenching next to him. But then to her surprise, he reverted their discussion down a new path. 

“Y/n if I tell you something, will you make me a promise in return?” His eyes, when he turned them on her were molton brown with emotion, and so incredibly vulnerable. 

The unexpected sight made her throat close, her voice escaping her. The only thing she could do was nod robotically. He turned his gaze forward again, his breath quickening slightly and his tattooed hand coming up to mess with a piece of his curled wet hair. 

“Do you remember anything about my mom?” 

If she was taken aback before, she was practically sent to the moon with how unpredictable the quiet question had been. Noticing her silence, he turned to look at her, patiently waiting for a response. Gazing into his eyes, she thought back as far as she could reach into her memories. She hadn’t gotten to spend much time with her before she died, having succumbed to stage 4 breast cancer by the time she was four. 

“Just that she was very sick. I don’t remember much from before that.” She gave him a sorrowful shake of her head. 

He sighed again. “That’s what I expected. My memories of her are hazy as is, so I can’t really expect you to remember her that well.” He brought a nervous hand up to fiddle with his lip ring.

“My mom was like me and Yoongi. Special.” He cleared his throat, his voice already sounding strained around the last word. “I don’t know how much you know about South Korean spiritualism, but it’s a pretty divisive thing. Most people look down on it, with I guess the closest equivalent to what we call psychics here being called shamans there- one of the most controversial aspects. The disdain towards it had a lot to do with confucian and later christian influence, but either way it’s not exactly something you talk about super openly. Especially not when my mom was a kid.”

He avoided her eyes as he spoke, choosing to let them roam about his room. “Anyways- She had started to show signs of her abilities at a young age, and her parents were not spiritual whatsoever. They had been certain that she must have had schizophrenia or some other kind of mental health issue, and dragged her to as many psychiatrists as they could. It made her really struggle to accept herself, and eventually did make her struggle mentally as a result. That was until she met my dad.” He coughed, visibly uncomfortable to be speaking so much. Y/n didn’t pressure him, instead letting him take his time by sitting reserved by his side. 

“When I came along, she was elated. I found her journal in highschool, and all she wrote about was how happy she was to be here with my dad, and to be around so many people that loved her. Your grandmother being a notable person she wrote about often.” He spared her a quick glance, and her face must’ve read with obvious befuddlement because he clarified further. “Your grandmother was also spiritual, but the German American folk and christian hybrid kind. My mom wrote about how my dad would sit and translate their conversations for hours when he would come home from work, my mom and your grandmother trading ways they dealt with spirits and their own experiences. She and all the other parents here treated my mom with such kindness that it helped her really accept herself and her abilities.” His voice trailed off, cracking so minutely she almost missed it. 

“Then when I was born she really struggled to breastfeed. They tried all they could naturally, but relented, eventually going to a consultant that referred them to oncology. Then there were many other doctors after that. Turns out it was breast cancer affecting her supply.” His voice fully broke this time, and his eyes glossed over. “She always said I was the reason that she was able to find out as soon as she did, and that without me they probably wouldn’t have been able to even try treatment at all without me.” His chin wobbled slightly, and Y/n felt her own eyes begin to water. Reaching out with her hand, and hesitantly placing it on his arm. She didn’t want to force anything more, but wanted to let him know she was there. 

He took in a shuddering breath. “The day she died, I was there. We knew she didn’t have that much longer, so I would spend any afternoon I wasn’t out with you sitting in her room. Practicing both the English and Korean alphabets together and coloring. That afternoon, I had been telling her all about the flowers they had planted that year for the spring, and trying to recreate them for her with crayons. Then she suddenly sat up all excited, and asked me to take her to see them.” He let out a wet chuckle, his brown eyes nearly shielded with the thick well of tears that hung on their edges. “I was a kid, and was just so excited to see her get up I didn’t think anything of it. I took her hand and led her out front, my drawings forgotten on the floor. I took her down the front steps, and around the side to look at the flower garden. I was making sure to take the time to show her all of my favorites. And without thinking I let go of her hand to pick a few for her.” 

Without warning Jungkook grabbed her hand securely in his like she had held his yesterday, and let their intertwined hands sit between them. Y/n squeezed back reassuringly. 

“When I turned around  to hand them to her, she was gone. Like she had never been there in the first place. I ran back into the house, calling for her everywhere. But it didn’t matter. Her body was still in her bed where she had left it to follow me out the front door.” The tears freely fell from his eyes, no longer being able to keep them in. Y/n’s own fell not long after, and she quickly brought her free hand up to wipe them away. 

“I blamed myself- sometimes I still do. Maybe If I hadn’t let go of her hand I could’ve kept her with me. Brought her back inside and gotten more time with her. A part of me knows that’s not how it works- but I can’t help it. Ever since then, my abilities have kicked in full force: just like hers had when she was younger. I started seeing everything. I can see where spirits are, I can get a really good reading on people…and I can tell when people are going to die. My mom called it the gift of an angel- to guide those with a friendly smile during their last moments. But I always felt like it was a curse. Watching people leave but not being able to do anything to stop them. Sometimes I couldn’t even tell they were dead, like my mom.” 

Y/n couldn’t stop the sniffles that bubbled out from her nose, and the tightness in her throat made it difficult to swallow. This time he turned to her, his face wet and his nose pink. But his eyes were an open book: Scared, worried, and distraught- yet more determined than she had ever seen- not even the looks he would give her when they were kids compared. 

“Y/n I know what Yoongi wants to do. He wants to talk to the spirits, and even traverse the spiritual realm to do so. I know this because he's been asking me to for years. I need you to promise me that when we do - that if he ever sends you in there- you won’t let go of my hand.” As if to emphasize his point, he lifted their hands and squeezed hers as tight as he could without hurting her. 

“Jungkook-” 

“Promise me Y/n.” His eyes were unyielding, and his face was crumpled in on itself in desperate anguish. 

Her breath left her mouth in quivering waves, another tear tracking down her cheek. 

“I promise, Jungkook.” 

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A/N I'm so sorry y'all. I cried so much writing this chapter lololol. Tried to balance the sad with fluff. No spooky times...for now

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Word Count: ~15k

A/N: SURPRISE! Sorry y'all-I hope you're not mad about getting a chapter instead of a drabble lol. I had a health flare up and ended up having more time than I anticipated as a result. Like always, my wife will give it a once over and I will fix all the typos that I missed. Let me know what y'all think-my flare ups make me feel down about my writing so I waited an entire day to post this from when I was originally going to because my brain has convince me I am the worst writer on the planet. :D

Much love ~Delyn

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The house was quiet. The moon had made camp in the middle of the sky, having settled there to take its nightly watch many hours before. The residents of the estate had all long since retired to their rooms, leaving the house to its own devices. Well to reevaluate one of the previous statements–it was quiet to everyone else except the man staring up at the ceiling, trying everything in his power to will his mind into submission and let him sleep. He shifted beneath his sheets, their embrace feeling unbearably stifling. The moon cast a pale blue filter over his room, calling up at him from the sky in a sweet lullaby that he wished he could hear.

But he couldn’t. The noises of the house were much too loud tonight. Angry, and harder than usual to tune out.

He huffed and rolled over onto his other side with a scowl at his phone screen, the pixels displaying the number 3:32am–a cruel countdown that laughed up at his future agony of having to wake up in four measly hours. He dropped his phone back on the nightstand, bringing both hands up to his face to drag them down his forehead. As if pulling the skin downward would force his mind down with it. He stayed in that position, focusing on his breathing.

In. His chest expanded upwards as his lungs stretched around the welcomed air. Out. It lowered at a steady pace. In. His eyes began to droop–maybe his efforts had paid off? 

As if the house fed off of his displeasure, the puny, seemingly unassuming vintage radio on his desk fizzled to life. The static starting at a volume much too low to wake up his neighbors, but too loud to let he himself rest. He started up, expelling his once relaxed breath with a snap of his tightly wound patience and out of his bed. He flew across the room and ripped the plug from the socket and letting it clatter to the floor, effectively cutting out the unwanted white noise it had so graciously offered. 

“I don’t have time for this!” He growled through his teeth and trudged back into his bed’s taunting embrace. Settling his weight back onto its surface. He nestled himself against his pillow, and leveled his breathing, finding his eyes weighing down once more.  In, he commanded his breathing to slow. Out. 

The radio on his desk sputtered, like a lawn mower refusing to start. After a few tries, it roared back to life with an even louder blast of its static.  

“I’m not listening!” He snatched the pillow from beneath his head, and squashed it down over his ears, taking his time to enunciate each syllable. “Leave. Me. Alone!” 

The radio didn’t seem to care how he felt, and tormented him with an onslaught of robotic ticks that repeated itself in unrelenting waves. He pressed the pillow against his head like a lifeline, not caring if he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. But the beeping still didn’t let up. If anything, it got louder as a means to counter his resistance.  After what he guessed could have been the tenth time it ran through its pattern, he leapt to his feet and stomped to his desk. Wrenching the chair out and planting himself in it, the last of his reserve wearing thin. 

“Fine. What do you want?” He yanked at the string of his lamp, illuminating him in a small bubble of light.

Nothing changed. Just the same pattern repeating over and over in a barrage against his eardrums. Biting his lip to keep himself from blowing his lid at an invisible nuisance, he scrambled for a piece of paper from one of his drawers and did his best to scribe what sounds he heard. 

“Is this what you want?” He snatched a pen from the cup on his desk. “I’ve already told you, I don’t know morse code–I can’t promise that I’ll be able to figure out whatever is you find so important to tell me at nearly four in the morning.” His hand scraped across the paper with a blazing fury, making multiple separate attempts to jot down the message. Once satisfied with 5 different interpretations, he slammed his pen down and held the paper up to the radio in a tired desperation.

“May I sleep now?” 

All sound from the radio speakers ceased. The static disappeared the same way it had arrived: with a choppy flourish. 

He huffed out a short “thank you”, and stumbled back to his bed to flop back onto the covers without an ounce of grace. The sounds of the bustling house didn’t seem as much of an issue compared to what his auditory system had just been pestered with. He might’ve thought about thanking whoever it was that tortured him for desensitizing his senses with the incessant beeping if he wasn’t still seething at them from interrupting his sleep. He was finally able to slip into a dreamless slumber, the house around him still as alive as ever–despite all of the living inhabitants being tucked and accounted for in their beds, fast asleep. 

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Y/n stared down at her perfectly curated stack of pancakes, admiring the way the diced apples glistened beneath a roof of fresh whipped cream. Splayed across the table were serving trays piled high with hash browns, grilled sausages, towers of fresh cut fruit, a saucepan of baked apples, and a circular pyramid structure of downright ad worthy pancakes. She gripped her fork tightly in her fist and skewered a piece of apple, bringing it up for her to admire the specks of cinnamon peppering its surface before setting it on her tongue. The juice burst from its flesh and coated her mouth in a warm, sweet yet spicy wave. Never mind how unimaginably perfect the fruit was, her stomach still flipped in response to its weight in her stomach. 

“How have things been for you, Y/n? I observed Hye-won put your start date for next Monday?” Her mother’s voice broke through the symphony of cutlery, looking down her nose at Y/n.

Y/n recalled Mrs. Min’s message of congratulations from when she had sent her the employee portal link and swallowed her own bite forcefully, feeling its entire journey down to her stomach. “They’ve been going good.” 

Her mother hummed, and used her butter knife to cut through her next bite. Surprisingly, her and her brother had both joined for breakfast on this seemingly unimportant early Tuesday morning. As did nearly everyone else. There were only a handful of heads missing: both of her hall neighbors, Jimin and of course-her father. The wait staff had to extend the table to accommodate a nearly full house. 

“Well-” her mother brought a napkin up from her lap to wipe at the side of her mouth “-the event schedule was posted for the spring and summer season as I’m sure you’ve seen. Almost everything is in order except for a few minute details.” She cleared her throat and rested her cutlery on her plate, hesitating for a moment. 

“There are a few things we are unsure of, with emphasis on a few of the summer activities and the placement of impending fall and winter events. We–as in Hana and I- were hoping that you might offer some of your input to help augment the experience of our guests. If you would be open to the offer.” Her mother finished, her tone airy and light as if she had simply commented on the weather–not giving Y/n an offer that tracked mud through her already disheveled brain. 

Y/n almost choked on a bite of sausage, but managed to cover it with a quick cough into her fist. She raised her brows and gestured with a finger to herself. “Me?” 

Her mother nodded. “Yes. You have always had an exemplary aptitude for anything regarding the hotel. Hana insisted.” 

Of course, Y/n thought. It was Mrs. Kim’s idea, not her own mother’s.

“If that’s what she thinks.” Trying to keep the sting of her mothers insinuation from being visibly or audibly detected, she kept her voice to a low mumble.

“Lovely. She’ll be pleased to hear that.” Her mother brought her next bite up to her mouth but backtracked slightly, her mouth still open. “I am pleased to hear that.” 

Y/n snuck a ‘what the fuck?’ glance to Namjoon, who just gave a miniscule shrug of his shoulders and scooped more hashbrowns onto his plate. Her mother seemed to be done speaking for the time being, content with Y/n’s answer and oblivious to the commotion she had stirred–like usual.  

Y/n felt her eyes drifting towards where her brother Roland sat sandwiched between Jin and her mother. He kept his eyes downcast whenever he ate at the table with her, but would often steal glances up at Y/n when he thought she wasn’t looking. He had grown a good five inches since she had last seen him–suddenly those four years away felt like a lifetime–he had grown into his face and probably had a laundry list of new interests and hobbies that she had no clue of. A pivotal time in his life she could have had with him slipped through her fingers. Gone. Y/n wished she could reach across the table and hold him as she once had when he was younger, but he was much too tall for that now, and she suspected he would shove her away at the first chance like most preteen boys would. 

She peeled her eyes away from Roland’s side profile, and caught a hold of Jin’s reassuring smile. His eyes alight with warmth as he nodded with his fork to her plate, mouthing out the word ‘eat’ and animately mimed the act of scarfing food down with his silverware.  She rolled her eyes but cracked a small smile, listening nonetheless. He watched as she shoveled a bite of apple drenched pancakes into her mouth, seemingly pleased with her actions, and tucked back into his own plate with vigor. 

Hoseok seemed a bit out of it this morning and not just because he was still in his pajamas with an unruly crown of bed head–but his newly acquired taciturn nature that was so unbecoming of him. The shining face Y/n was accustomed to seeing at the breakfast table seemed faded and dull at its edges. Even as he gave the staff member placing a fresh glass of orange juice infront of him a polite smile, it held no relations to his usual vibrant displays. And if that wasn’t weird enough already-just like her younger brother-he also was avoiding her. 

Breakfast had passed with the speed of watching paint dry, each bite feeling like a cement brick landing in her digestive tract. She didn’t want to tell Yoongi or Jungkook just how nervous she was for tonight; though with the way Jungkook repeatedly let his russet brown eyes sweep in her direction when her mother wasn’t looking, she was sure he could already read her like an open book. 

The moment her mother and brother excuse themselves to walk the latter to the bus stop down the hill, the invisible unease that wound its way around the rest of them like a leash began to dissipate. Jungkook felt less of a need to be as hidden with his blatant staring, Namjoon leant back in his chair in a casual manner, and even Jin even seemed to perk up-even if it was to a miniscule degree. Hoseok was the only one who didn’t seem to notice the shift in atmosphere, his restraint still present. He only lasted a few more bites before quietly excusing himself back up to his room to get ready for his day. 

Y/n wanted nothing more than to go after him and ask him what was bothering him, or if she had unknowingly done something to upset him. But as her head followed his exit willing her body to follow,  but quick kick striking her shin stopped her from rising from her seat. 

“Ouch-what the fuck?” She whipped her head with narrowed eyes at where Namjoon sat from across the table. 

Namjoon halted the journey of his loaded fork to his mouth, his eyes wide and mouth slackened to accept the bite. 

“What?” 

“What was that for?” She demanded. 

He lowered his utensil towards his plate. “What was what for?” 

“Ugh!” She rolled her eyes and pushed her plate away from herself. “Take your time finishing up your breakfast. I’ll meet you at the greenhouse.” 

She rounded the doorway from the dining room out into the foyer. She didn’t have to look up from where she was bent over hastily shoving her feet into her boots to know who had trailed out after her. His looming presence occupying the spot to her right more than enough of a give away. Y/n sighed and hoisted herself up to look at Jungkook as he hovered near her.

 “Namjoon told you about the twins, huh?” She kept her voice low to prevent Jin from eavesdropping through the wall. 

“Yes.” He dropped to one knee to lace up his own work sneaker. “Because you didn’t.” 

She rested one hand on the door knob, waiting for him to finish. “Not on purpose! It just slipped my mind.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” He waved her hand away from the door handle and opened it for her. “I bet it had nothing to do with you being stubborn or anything.” He cracked a teensy smile in her direction as he escorted her out the front door. 

“Nothing at all. Can’t you tell I love having a personal security detail.” Y/n countered, skipping down the steps with him at her side. 

Jungkook let a breathy chuckle escape his lips, and let her lead the way down the path to the greenhouse entrance. The two of them have been making strides in their friendship, with him loosening up inch by inch each day. She was grateful that with no more secrets between them, he was able to let himself fully open up. 

The flowers and bushes lining the side of the estate were feeling the coming of late spring. Corpulent peonies stared at them with blushing faces, and daffodils turned their noses up at them in the breeze as they ambled by. Even with the gray overcast and light drizzle sprinkling down on their petals, they were still waking up to say their pleasantries. The rest of the bushes were expected to bud in the next few weeks and blanket the grounds with their vivid colors and natural perfume, and she couldn’t wait to greet them when they did. She pulled her copy of the entrance key and jolted the door open, holding it open for the man behind her to follow. 

The greenhouse construction was expected to close within the next week or so. Just in time for their busiest transplanting season and for her first day. This was something Namjoon was counting down the seconds for, even joking that they should have a greenhouse party to celebrate the departure of their clobbering construction team. The frame and panes were finished, all that was left was to reinforce the seals and connect the first floor water supply to the second floor. Y/n was happy to  at least have a bit of peace before they showed up in an hour to make their usual racket. 

Jungkook took to inspecting the contents stuffed onto the bulky shelves with rapt interest, his eyes meticulously scanning each label. He seemed to find what he was looking for: a massive spaghetti sauce jar that had been cleaned and filled with multitudes of harvested peony seeds. The glass clanked against its neighboring jars and tipped forward into Jungkook’s awaiting palms as he nudged it from its spot. His inked hand splayed across the bottom of the jar as he shook it a few times, listening to the music they made from inside the jar. Y/n’s gaze followed his form as it wandered to the next shelf, repeating the same thing he had down to the first. This time, he paused and peered back at her through the gaps of lined jars. 

“No peeking.” He took one empty hand and shooed her eyes away from what he was prodding at.

She snorted and held her hands up. “Geez, can’t seem to get rid of you yet here you are, sending me away. ” 

Y/n spun on her heels, missing the unimpressed glare he directed at the back of her head, and floated into the storage room that she was in the process of helping Namjoon organize. After he had lost three separate pairs of gloves she had put her foot down and gave herself the task of going through each box, tote, and shelf to create a better system for the both of them before she was subjected to it as a work enviroment. She hummed along to a song she couldn’t place her finger on and nor did she care to, and tugged one of the larger boxes out from one of the shelves and lugged it over to the desk along the back wall. Y/n could still hear Jungkook poking around the front room, but respected his wish not to look at whatever it was he was getting himself into.

She had given herself a much larger head start to her day than she necessarily needed, the time not yet having even reached far past 8. Y/n had an hour and a half to dilly dally before Namjoon was to be expected, and Jungkook would be taking off any minute to clock in. This would give her plenty of alone time outside of the confines of her room to settle and process her nerves about tonight without being watched. 

Y/n heard the distinct sound of a grocery bag being unfurled followed by a soft thud of something weighty being placed on the table. The sound of Jungkook’s sneakers scuffled closer and she felt his presence enter the storage room from over her shoulder. The red of his work scrubs trickled into her peripheral, and he cleared his throat from her left. 

“I have to leave a few minutes early so I can drop a few things off at my room. You’ll be fine here until Namjoon comes?” He sniffed, his voice displaying only a hint of uncertainty. 

The question held the unspoken: She’d be stuck in here until Namjoon came by, so if she needed anything–speak now or forever hold her peace. 

“I’ll be alright,” she smiled up at him, “Thank you though.” 

Jungkook nodded, but made no move to turn away yet. Y/n lifted another set of microscope slides out of the box and set them to the side where Jungkook lingered. She picked a few out of their box to look through any damaged ones when Jungkook took a sharp intake of breath. 

“Y/n.” His voice was urgent, and she looked up at him to find him scrutinizing something from outside of the propped open panes. She followed his line of sight and saw her mother blazing down the greenhouse path, her cheeks red and her steps purposeful. Oh no. 

Jungkook soundlessly slipped from the room and disappeared into the nursery area with his bag gripped in one hand. She didn’t have time to hear if he made it out the back door before Y/n's mother’s impatient knocks rang from the front. Y/n pulled her arms from the box to make her reluctant way to the front–but her mother didn’t give the same courtesy her father had to wait–and let herself in before Y/n could even make it into they entryway. Her mother barreled into the front room, and surveyed the space until her eyes teeming with uncurbed fury found Y/n shuffling between the shelves towards her. 

“Is everything alr-”

“What is this?” Her mother silenced her shaky voice with a thrust of what she assumed to be her brother’s phone (going by the video game stickers dotting the protective case) into her face. 

Y/n let her mouth hang open in silent confusion, and her brows furrowed while her eyes registered what her mother was showing her. Her heart dropped into her stomach. There on the screen was the post she had made on her social media a few days prior, and had been stopped on one of her and her friends sitting in the back of the buggy during the battlefield tour. 

“It’s…” Y/n chose her next words carefully. “It’s a picture of me and my friends.” 

Her mother puffed out a scornful scoff. “That’s not what I am referring to and you are well aware of that.” She took one of her fingers that trembled in poorly a withheld frenzy to scroll through the next few, making a point to stop at any that included Yoongi. 

“He is one of my friends, and ended up coming along with us. There’s nothing else to it than that mom.” Y/n’s eye twitched, and her hands balled into fists at her sides. This is not how she wanted to start her morning.

“Nothing else to it?” Her mother shoved the phone into her purse. “Then why not tell me about it? Why hide it from me if there was truly nothing else to it?” 

“Because you would’ve freaked out like this! And since when have we been buddy buddy enough to tell eachother what we do on the weekends?” Y/n kept her fists taught as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, her face growing hot. 

“Since I became your mother–that’s when. I have a right to know these things.” 

Y/n’s head tweaked to the side, and her lips pursed in feigned disappointment. “Well you should’ve thought of that before you pushed me out of everything, shouldn't've you?” Y/n whirled around and back to the box she had been emptying. 

“Do not walk away from me right now.” Her mother followed in after her. 

“Wow that’s funny–you didn’t seem to care about whether or not I did that before.” Y/n slammed the contents of the box one by one onto the table. Not even bothering to look at what she was placing where anymore or if she had completely thrown off her piles. 

“Don’t speak about things you can not possibly understand.” Her mother bit back through clenched teeth. 

“Well then elaborate mother since you’re suddenly so keen on being open and honest with each other.” 

Her mother pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers and took a few labored breaths. She heaved one last sigh, before abruptly leaving Y/n’s side.

“I will not be arguing with you about this any further.” The older woman’s heels clacked on the floor as she took quick strides back to the front room. “You will stay away from him. Do you understand me?” 

“No, I don’t. I don’t understand you actually.” Y/n snapped and stormed after her, her heart pounding in her ears. “He’s nice, and he’s my friend. And if anything, he seems to be happier about me being back more than you are. So god forgive me for wanting to spend time with people that actually care about me.” 

Y/n’s mother froze, her eyes cold and hard as they stared Y/n down. Y/n pushed on. 

“And if you’d actually bothered to talk to me like an adult instead of coming in here with guns blazing accusations all over the place–I didn't even invite him! I didn’t even know he was joining us until the morning of. Do not hold me accountable to the actions of other men.” Y/n could feel the rage seeping from every pore on her body. 

Her mother stayed frozen, her eyes enlarged with icy wrath. A look only a mother could give. But Y/n didn’t back down this time, matching her intensity with her own penetrating stare. 

“Who invited him?” The woman’s words were quiet, yet deadly. She recognized that tone–it bore striking resemblance to a snake winding up to pounce. 

“I. Don’t. Know.” 

They held their stand off in a smothering silence, her mother’s eyes imploring Y/n to turn in one of her friends with her lethal scrutiny.  Y/n could’ve heard a pin drop from the attic of the estate as she held her ground. Finally, Y/n’s mother broke first. She turned and ripped open the door to the greenhouse with so much force it bounced off of the wall next to it, and started her scorching ascent back to the estate. Once Y/n was sure she had left she hurriedly closed the door and locked it from the inside, pressing her back against it in case her mother would come pushing her way back through at any moment.

Her breath hiccuped in her chest. This was not at all how she had wanted to spend her alone time this morning. Now not only was she scared of what was to come later, she was pried from her safe space against her will and put on trial against her friends. She felt small. Her mother had a unique way of doing that to her in the most recent years. Then the guilt began to eat at her edges: she had just thrown her friends under the bus, and she had no idea what that meant for them. 

She let herself drag down the door until her tailbone hit the floor and brought her knees curling up into her chest. That Christmas had changed everything between her and her mom. If 6 years ago she would’ve caught a glimpse of what their current relationship looked like, she would’ve called the world a liar and laughed. They had always been close before this. Then it was like a switch had been flipped, and the mother she had grown to know was pulled from her hands before she was ready–pushing her from a nest that’s height left an unsurvivable fall over its lip. Now instead of laughing at each other's stupid puns and dancing in the kitchen late at night with her and her sister, or curling up under soft blankets to watch copious amounts of criminal minds together on the weekends–they were distant. They were strangers. What had she done? What did she do that was so wrong to lose her affections so easily? Or had she always just been blind to her love being conitional?

Y/n couldn’t stop the hot tears as they tracked down her face. She hadn’t done anything, she had to remind herself. Yoongi’s words about her mother spinning lies from her fingertips and hiding behind shrouds of secrecy coming to the forefront of her mind. Y/n tried to mop at the salty streams with the collar of her shirt, but it was useless. 

The door shuddered against her back, and she jumped to hold it closed. Through the frosted glass she could see the outline of a feminine figure, their frail hand pressed against the misty glass. Y/n’s breath hitched, unsure of what to do. It certainly couldn’t be her mother–this woman wasn’t tall enough to be her mother. The shadowy outline of the hand pulled away from the glass, and Y/n watched their short form stoop to the ground momentarily, before standing up to their full shorter stature. The woman moved away from the door as if floating, and Y/n followed her shadowy outline as far as she could as it blended into the warped blobs of color the greenhouse glass turned everything into after a certain distance.

Y/n’s heart was beating uncomfortably in her throat and tickling her ears, making her let out a few muffled coughs. The slow drip of rain picking up a steadier speed on the roof, blending in with the sound of her pulse. Without thinking, she opened the door and surveyed the path: but no one was there. She moved to close the door, not interested in standing out in the rain or inviting whatever it was inside. However something left on the ground near her feet halted her movements. 

A single, perfectly bloomed peony had been cut from the bush. It’s stem cut at an angle at the perfect length for displaying it in a vase if Y/n had wanted to. She crouched low to the ground and pinched the stem up from the ground. She inspected the flowers' pale pink petals with a few quiet sniffles. She looked back up the path, but still saw no sign of whoever had left the flower on the stoop. She retreated back into the safe confines of the greenhouse, locking the door once more.

Y/n didn’t let herself wallow for very long, leaving the stem on the work table and choosing instead to bury herself and her feelings in the task of sorting out the storage room. She had everything separated into neat heaps of similar items, and was measuring with her eyes what sizes of stackable Ikea storage totes would work the best when she heard Namjoon clamber his way through the main door. 

She didn’t look up from her online doom scroll as he lumbered past the doorway and into the nursery to check on the minimal amount of construction process so far. His steps back tracked themselves to a halt outside the storage room entrance to give her and the piles encircling her a once over. Y/n knew how she probably looked: one leg crossed over the other, slumped over onto her phone and closed off. He took trepid steps in, but she still didn’t look up to greet his approaching figure.  

“Did something happen?” His words were soft spoken as he directed them at her, and for once she wished he wasn’t so observant. 

Y/n shrugged, keeping her head down. If she looked at him, her swollen eyes and sticky face would sell her out to him in an instant. Namjoon pulled out one of the folding chairs from the shallow closet in the storage room, and plopped himself into place infront of her.

“You’re going to have to use some form of outward communication with me–I don’t have the leg up that the other guys do when it comes to my deduction skills.” He kept his tone matter-of-fact, yet still far removed from any judgement. Y/n sighed, clicking her phone off and dropping it onto the table next to her with a ‘thunk’. She hugged her arms around herself, but still avoided meeting his eyes as she spoke. 

“I got into a fight with my mom.” Her voice barely approached a whisper. 

“Just now?” 

“No. Almost over an hour ago.” 

“Huh.” He clicked his tongue in thought. “She seemed fine at breakfast? What triggered it this time?” 

“I guess either my brother showed her my post from Saturday or she was snooping–the how doesn’t necessarily matter to me as much as the why. But she came in here to give me a good tongue lashing for Yoongi being in some of them.” Y/n shook her head in indignant disbelief as the argument replayed in her mind. “And then when I told her I wasn’t the one that invited him, she got weird. Joon, when she looked at me after I said that–it was like she was thinking of ways to kill them or something.” 

Y/n felt her throat tightening in on itself, and her voice tremor with her next words. “What if I just got them kicked out or fired or something because I couldn’t just take the hit?” 

She couldn’t stop it anymore much to her displeasure, as her lip quivered and her eyes welled up again. Once the first fresh tear fell, she just let it all come out. 

“I miss how she used to be. I miss the relationship we had before all of this bullshit. Now it feels like everything I do is wrong–especially if it means I’m happy because of it. And to top it off–” she cut herself off momentarily to scrub at her face with her sleeve “–I’m terrified because I have to face the unknown tonight and I can’t even tell them that I’m scared because they will force me to stop. Especially Jungkook. And I don’t want to be stopped by anyone–I’m beyond tired of everyone trying to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. I just wanted to get it off my chest and process it, but she took away all the peaceful time I had this morning to do that.” Y/n blubbered out her frustrations with a murky groan and wiped at her face with more force than the first, leaving her cheeks feeling raw.

Namjoon’s chair creaked as he stood, and he pulled her up to her feet to follow. She didn’t have time to protest before he enveloped her in a warm hug, letting her find solace in his sturdy frame. He squished her to his chest the same way he had when she had first arrived, but this time she didn’t feel any awkward urge to push him away. She let herself be held in his comforting embrace, feeling the warmth from his hold seep into her muscles and unwind any tension left in them with effortless compassion. She felt a teensy bit bad that she had definitely left a wet spot on his shoulder by the time her breathing had started to even out, yet he chose not to comment on whether or not he noticed. Namjoon took her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length, grabbing her attention with newfound urgency. 

“Listen to me Y/n. First–in all kindness–fuck your mom.” Y/n would’ve starled backwards into her seat if it wasn’t for him holding her still, having never heard Namjoon speak so harshly in regards to her mother. “Second, no one can tell you what to do–and you do your best to make sure everyone knows that–even if it irks me sometimes.” He let one dry laugh spill from his schooled expression. 

“If you are scared, tell me. And if you’re scared and still want to do things I maybe won’t always approve of–I still want you to tell me.” He gave her shoulders another firm shake. “If you truly feel like whatever it is you’re doing is the right thing to do, do it scared. I won’t stop you. Neither will Yoongi. And Jungkook is going to just have to learn to accept that.  If you’re going to be doing dangerous shit, we need to all stay open and honest. Lying helps no one.” 

Y/n was taken aback by the intensity in his eyes. “I thought you said you didn’t want me doing the dangerous shit because it could put everyone else at risk?” 

“Y/n, if you want my honest answer, yes. I still think that way some of the time. But after what happened with you and Hadwin, coupled with your sister and the twins–I hate to admit it–but Yoongi might be right. The only way to stop it might be to face it head on, otherwise you and the rest of us might end up hurt, or worse.” He dropped his hands from her shoulders and pulled his beanie further down his forehead. “It’s your decision. I’m not going to ever try to make it for you, so get those thoughts out of your head.” 

“You…” Y/n sniffled, and stared up at him in admiration. “You really are the best, Joon.” She let herself fall against him again, laying the side of her face against his shoulder and squeezing his middle. 

“If you say so.” He returned the hug, and ran a soothing hand up and down her back. 

They stayed that way together, holding each other while her sniffles quieted to nothing. The sound of the clanging construction team two rooms over and the gentle rain their background noise.

“So what about tonight is scary?” His chest rumbled against her ear as he spoke. 

“Yoongi can’t get in. He said they only want me.” 

He sighed, but didn’t make any moves to argue like he had promised. “How about this?” Namjoon released their hug and took a step back towards the folding chair and kicking it closed with his boot. “You guys do your ritual tonight in my room. I’ve got plenty of plants in there to make you feel at home, and I’ll watch over you every step of the way. Would that help?” 

Y/n pondered his proposal for a moment, and chewed at the inside of her cheek. Maybe that would help her feel better, to have someone else there that she trusted. Not to mention the enticing offer of more plant friends to keep her company. She nodded, but Namjoon had his back turned to her to shove the chair haphazardly into the closet. So she found her words again. 

“I think that would help, yeah.” 

“Good, then let’s get to work until then. I got the all clear for us to start moving some stuff back to some of the other rooms and I’m going to rip my own hair out if I don’t jump on it.” 

_________________________________________

New message in ‘The Most Annoying and Toxic Coworkers’

[Joon 🌱]: Change of plans for tonight. Your guys’ meeting has been moved to my room. 

[Zoltar]: Don’t we live in a democracy anymore? And since when were you in charge?

[Jungkook]: Sounds good. 

[Zoltar]: You’re just agreeing because I didn’t agree with it right away.

[Jungkook]: 🤷 

[Morning Glory]: It was my choice Mr. Grumpy Gale. 

[Zoltar]: I guess I can accept it then 😮‍💨

[Zoltar]: You two young ones will have to help me lug all my shit over without looking suspicious though. 

Y/n watched the messages appear on her screen as she made her way back to the estate for lunch, Namjoon trailing a short distance behind her to give her the illusion of autonomy. When she arrived at the table, she noticed Hoseok was still clouded in the same mood as this morning. The only difference this time being him dressed and showered with a bandage hanging from his neck. The entire time they ate he barely spoke to anyone, just half smiles and small comments here and there. Y/n had enough with the elusiveness that was ill-suited to his person.

When he got up to excuse himself again, Y/n got up to follow with more speed than last time, avoiding any kick’s Namjoon might’ve tried to send her way. If he had tried to do so again–he didn’t show it–just kept his attention on a book he had laid flat on the table next to his plate. Jungkook on the other hand stood up to follow her into the foyer, but she held her hand up to stop him in his tracks. 

“I’m just going to check on him, I’ll be right back. I’ll text you when I’m on my way down.” She rushed out a whisper across the table, and Jungkook shifted to look at Namjoon for approval. 

Y/n darted out and into the hall without waiting for the answer, tracing his footsteps in the path they had made up the stairs. When she was rounding the final turn, she only caught a glimpse of his door clicking into place from where he had withdrawn behind it. She made quick work of the hall, not having interest in being in it by herself. She did three brisk knocks before letting her hand drop down to her side, tapping her foot and being sure to watch over each shoulder. 

Hoseok swung his door back open, befuddlement outweighing any other emotion before he registered the timid look she was sending his way. He scratched at his ear, and leant up against the door frame to address her. 

“What’s up? Do you need something?” 

“No, I just wanted to check in on you. You seem a bit out of it, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the absence of a smile on his face jarring her to her core. His detached expression leaving her feeling uneasy instead of comforted by his presence

Hoseok sucked on his teeth, and took a miniscule step backwards. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was looking standoffish; a word she would have never used to describe him before today. Especially not to her. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Maybe I caught whatever you had.” He dismissed her with a tight lipped smile. She would’ve believed him if she hadn’t known that her illness was fake, thus it was impossible to catch. 

“Are you sure?” She pushed him further. “I don’t remember being around you that much beforehand–at least not more than everyone else.”  

“We danced together that day, remember? That seems pretty up close and personal to me.”  The words burned off of his tongue with poorly concealed disdain, and his eyes held no light to them at the memory. 

Y/n recoiled at the sound, having almost never heard such venom come from his mouth before. “Did you…Did you hate it that much?” Defensiveness reared its ugly head, coming forth from the depths of her mind. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Hoseok’s eyes widened and his face visibly paled. 

“Fuck-no. Look,” he ran a hand through his wavy hair and propped it back on the door, “I enjoyed that. I really did, trust me. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just not feeling well, alright?” 

“Okay.” Even she could tell her response wasn’t convincing. His tired eyes reflecting some kind of inner conflict in her direction. 

“I owe you a dance to prove I didn’t hate it. Promise. Just give me some time to get over whatever this is please.” He sounded like he was relenting, not like he was genuinely looking forward to it. And she couldn’t tell what idea hurt more: Him lying to her and saying he will spend time with her out of pity, or him not trusting her enough to tell her what was bothering him. 

“Yeah. That’s fine. Whatever works for you.” She started in feeble steps down the hall–she didn’t want to make whatever he was experiencing more difficult for him to manage. “I hope you feel better soon.” 

She heard him exhale sharply with a grunt, catching up to her in seconds with his long fingers encircling her wrist. 

“Y/n I mean it. I love spending time with you and you did nothing wrong. I really am just not feeling well. I promise.” The stare he leveled her was grave, and pierced through her clouded mind like a beam of light. She knew him well enough to know that meant he was telling the truth. 

She swallowed with force, and gave a measly nod. “I believe you.” 

He dropped her hand and tugged her into a bone crushing hug with his arms wound tightly around her shoulders to flatten her to his thin frame. His shoulders shuddered with the intensity of which he held her to him, trembling beneath her fingertips. Hoseok released her faster than she would have liked, already leaving her where she stood to escape back into the confines of his room.

“I’ll see you later at dinner?” Y/n called after him, a hopeful expression painting her face. 

Hoseok nodded, and finally sent her a real -albeit tiny- smile. Then he was gone. 

Y/n pulled her phone from her pocket to send Jungkook a simple walking emoji, not wanting to give the ghosts any opportunities to have the upperhand by spending more time than she needed to looking at her phone. By the time she entered the landing, Jungkook was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs and watching her each step as she took her time shuffling down them.  She paused about halfway down, reconsidering her plans to make room for the unexpected dejection that pulled at her heart strings.

“Actually, I think I want to go lay down. Her eyes flickered up to meet his dark ones momentarily before looking anywhere else. "Today has really worn me out.”  

She knew Hoseok was being honest in his reassurance, but she couldn’t help the slight sting of rejection that sliced through her chest at his slip up. Whatever that had meant had also felt just as honest, and it truly was just the cherry on top of her emotional roller coaster of a day. Jungkook met her at her spot halfway up the steps, and gestured for her to lead the way. 

Y/n’s footsteps dragged across the carpet all the way to her door, and her hand felt weak as she pushed the wooden panel keeping her from curling up under her blankets open and out of her way. Jungkook pushed in after her, and clicked the door closed for her. She surveyed her space, taking in the plants she hadn’t checked yet this morning. Slumping her shoulders, her heavy gait brought her to inspect her plant collection, picking up the misting bottle to spray the leaves of a few of them and checking the moisture levels with the tip of her fingers. Jungkook came up next to her, and looked at the plant she was doting on over her shoulder. 

“Which one is that?” He pointed with one tattooed finger at the smaller sized plant in her hands. 

“This is a ZZ Plant. It’s actually the one I got in Jimin’s honor. ” She gave Jungkook a sideways glance, and placed the plant back on one of the smaller ledges. 

His eyes scanned each plant with a nearly inaudible hum before honing back in on her. “Which one is mine?” 

“Oh-yes that’s right. Yours is…” Her voice dwindled in volume as she paced with a bit more enthusiasm than before down the massive shelf to one if the ledges made for medium to large sized plants. “This one.” She gestured to a still young, yet beautifully variegated Croton. 

“Why that one?” he furrowed his brows and took the plant in, reaching two fingers out to prod at one of the wide sweeping leaves at the bottom of its stem. 

“Gah! Don’t touch.” She smacked his hand away, and his eyes turned to near complete circles to gawk at the place where she had struck him. “Sorry! But he’s toxic, and I know you have sensitive skin.” She rushed out with an apologetic look pulling her face downwards. 

Jungkook shook his hand out, but didn’t seem too offended with her explanation and smoothed his expression from shock to neutral. His silence directed her to continue onwards with answering his query.

“I chose this one as you because one: it's got so many different colors to show in just one plant. It will develop splotches of yellow, red, orange, and two different shades of green as he grows; much like how I think you are. You have many different sides of yourself that you only let people see if they take good care of you.” She giggled at the light flush that crept up his cheeks, and he rolled his eyes to try and conceal it. “Two: this plant is one of the strongest spiritual protectors. You can use the sap in protection magic, and it protects your space from curses or any ill will. They mean business, and spirits know not to fuck around with them.” She could’ve sworn she saw his chest puff out slightly by the end of her spiel, and she sucked in a small breath to keep in any further giggles that threatened to escape at his subtle display of pride. 

“Did you get any for anyone else?” Jungkook admired the broad leafed Monstera that had taken over the backseat on its way home a few days prior. She hummed in affirmation and pulled a small Aloe Vera plant from the ledge across from the ZZ plant, and held it up for him to look at. 

“This Aloe plant is Yoongi’s. They are also spiritual protectors–all spikey and scary looking with a reputation for being able to be left alone–but in reality they are quite gentle.” She rotated the plant in her palms for Jungkook to see each speckled arm that stretched towards the sky. “They like being showered in attention, and are great emotional companions. They have skin soothing properties as I’m sure you know.” 

Y/n slid the small powdery blue pot back onto its designated shelf, and moved onto a lucious, hunter green plant that’s height brushed above her knees at her lower thigh. 

“This one made me think of Namjoon, my lovely Peace Lily.” She twirled the part of the leaf that came to a point around her pointer finger. “They are known to purify the air of whatever rooms they are in, because at their core they are healers–both of the physical and the spiritual. They are great for emotional stability and love to take care of the ones they care about.” 

Y/n raised her right hand to point at a smaller plant, with dark and light green stripes. “That calathea is what I think I settled on for Hoseok. They are great plants for balance, and their leaves move often as if engaging in a little dance. Then when the sun goes down their leaves curl in, and open when the sun rises. Almost like they're giving you a good morning smile.” Her voice faltered slightly, compelling her to clear her throat. She shook her head to continue on with her tour, Jungkook’s imploring stare and the way in which he hung onto every word she said with undivided attention kept her from lingering too long in her feelings. 

“Jin is for sure a fiddle leaf fig. They are tall, stunning, kind and confident.” She walked with light steps to a chest height tree by her desk, proudly displaying its massive leaves  in front of her window. “They are bringers of positive energy-but only if you care for them right. According to one of the book’s Namjoon let me borrow, if you neglect them or don’t give them proper care, they can wreak havoc on the energy of your space until you fix it.” She felt a smile lift the corners of her mouth, the description bringing fond memories of Jin to her mind. 

“Taehyung, I'm not one-hundred percent decided. I’m stuck between my African Violet or my Monstera.” Y/n tapped her chin absentmindedly with her forefinger. “I feel like it’s definitely between one of those two though. Unless I go to another plant store anytime soon and find something better.” Before Y/n  knew it, she was beaming at Jungkook from her spot near her desk. Her turmoil is momentarily forgotten by her love of plants. As she looked at his rounded eyes, present and attentive to her, she wondered if he had led her on this tangent on purpose knowing it would improve her mood. Butterflies burst from each wall of her abdomen, and fluttered their wings at a speed that made her heart race to keep up with them. 

He nodded at the onslaught of information as she tried to swallow the feeling, and did one more once over of her shelf. He side stepped to a small pale green pot with purple blooms bubbling over the edges. 

“Is this the African Violet?” He wiggles his fingers at the base of the plant, and turned his head to look at her for confirmation. 

Y/n bobbed her head, and came to stand close to his side to fawn over its colors. 

Jungkook breathed out from his nose, and hummed in thought. “What characteristics does it have?” 

“Well,” Y/n gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed at the tip of her nose. “They are a bit high maintenance, but in a ‘I know what I want and I won’t accept anything less than what I deserve’ kinda way. Great for self respect and protecting oneself from negative people or relationships.” She turned from the rich petals that always seemed to hold her in a trance when gazed upon, only to find Jungkook already examining her face. Y/n felt her warmth radiate from her cheeks and down her neck at the way his eyes seemed to be dissecting every square inch from her eyes to her chin. They were so close she could trace the moles that speckled his face with a finger if she had the urge to–which she almost did–and their proximity left each puff of breath from his nose fanning out against her cheek. Y/n watched him pull an invisible mask up, his eyes seeming distant and his expression unreadable as it moved to hide behind it. He swallowed, and her eyes flitted down to the bottom of his face to watch his teeth peek out to bite at the spot where his lip ring should be. 

“I think it fits him. This one.” Jungkook relented his attack on his lower lip and tore himself away from their impromptu staring contest by tapping a long finger delicately against the side of its pot. He teetered backwards, holding most of his weight on the toe of his shoe as he swayed from side to side with each step. Y/n couldn’t explain the tug at her heart at the increase of space between them, that only grew exponentially when the palm of his hand lifted to rest on the door handle. 

“I need to head back to work, but I’ll be done soon. J-Just text me where you’re at and if you need me.” He stumbled over his words, his face coloring itself the same color as the peony petals they had passed earlier this morning. “Otherwise I’m going to go to the gym, and I have a couple things I need to do before we meet up tonight.” Jungkook averted his eyes and vanished through the narrow gap he had made with her door that was just barely big enough for him to slip through.  

_________________________________________

Against his word, Hoseok did not show up for dinner–and neither did both her mother and Seokjin. She had a sinking suspicion that her altercation with her mother had something to do with it, making dread pool into her belly and crawl up her throat. She couldn’t stop her heart from doing panicked flips in her chest as her mind raced to conceive a million different possibilities for what could’ve happened between the three of them. Y/n tried to not let the gloom formed by her friend’s absence consume her. She had to be in top shape tonight if she wanted to be ready for whatever was to come doing their late night rendezvous. So against every cell in her body screaming at her to stop with threatening waves of nausea, she shoveled the food on her plate into her mouth. Robotically moving her jaw in up and down motions even if every bite felt like chewing wet paper. Being hungry wouldn’t do her mind any good. 

She sped up the stairs as soon as dinner ended, not even trying to hide her rush if there was no one really home to hide from. Jimin and Taehyung went in their own directions after dinner, and with the rest of the residents missing they might as well have all just paraded through the halls together. Y/n only made a point to stop into her room to collect the brown paper bag Yoongi had given her, before speeding out of her room and down the opposite hall to Namjoon’s. Casting one disheartened stare towards Hoseok’s closed door, she pushed any thoughts of him from her mind. She raised her fist up, but didn’t even get the chance to knock. Her diligence in not beating around the bush had her and Namjoon crossing paths right outside his door, and he wasted no time ushering her inside. 

Namjoon’s room was neat–in a slightly disorganized way. His walls were a forest green, with one of them lined floor to ceiling in a gargantuan bookshelf, and the other an antique wooden desk flush to the wall nearest to his bathroom. The surface was strewn with papers, propped open books and pens, a small potted plant and few other miscellaneous items she couldn’t place. And could she emphasize the plants? He had pothos vines that tracked across the walls and ceiling; palms that fanned out in a prideful stance and nearly as tall as Namjoon himself; Purple vining plants hanging in baskets from hooks from his ceiling; and more potted plants than she could count. Her eyes didn’t know where to look–every square inch had something green–living or dead. 

“Yeah, I definitely want some clippings from yours.” Y/n did a slow spin around his room, taking in as much as she could. 

Namjoon settled in with a humble smile. “Jin says I have too many, but I think he doesn’t have nearly enough.” He quickly grappled with a stack of papers and books on his desk, taking them in a messy stack and moving them onto his shelf. “Sorry it’s a bit of a mess in here.” 

“No need to apologize, I’ve known you since I was born. If it was pristine in here I think I’d be more concerned.” She chuckled, and brought a feather light hand up to a nearly three foot long tendril from a string of pearls plant situated on top of his bookshelf.

He gave her a tour of his houseplants, taking extra time to show her an alocasia plant that was nearly fifty years old that he inherited from his grandfather from South Korea. They had barely made it halfway through before a marginally out of breath Yoongi waddled in, his arms full with his wooden chest and a smirking empty handed Jungkook behind him. 

“Remind me to ask one of you for a hand next time, and not this smart ass.” Yoongi huffed and dropped his chest on Namjoon’s desk with a thundering clammer. 

“I gave you a hand.” Jungkook had difficulty concealing a shit eating grin that threatened to overtake his face. 

“While I just love being applauded for my efforts, it wasn’t exactly the kind of hand I was looking for.” Yoongi snipped back. He seemed to be tightly strung today, and Y/n wondered if he was as nervous as she was. 

“Are you feeling okay Yoongs?” She kept her voice soft as she addressed him. 

His shoulders scrunched up towards his ears as if her voice startled him, and his hands fumbled slightly to pull the key to his box from his sweat pants pocket. 

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” 

It must’ve pulled him from his troubled mind momentarily because his voice had lost its sharp edge, and if Y/n looked hard enough, she could’ve sworn the tips of his ears flushed from where they protruded through his damp hair tucked securely behind them.

He set to work guiding them to set up the cloth, the warding, the proper candle order, and a few small ceramic bowls. All of them except for one had a hodgepodge of  dried plants, rocks, and miscellaneous items in them. He placed the empty bowl closest to the end of Namjoon’s bed, which she was certain was where she would sit.  

“Did you bring the other stuff I got for you, Y/n?” He kept his eyes on the candles as he lit each one individually. She held up the paper bag in response and gave it a light shake. “Good.” He concluded, and used the last of his match to light a single stick of incense propped in its holder near the wax pillars.

“I have something to give everyone before we start.” Jungkook piped up from where he sat perched on the edge of Namjoon’s desk. He dug into his pockets, and pulled out a fist full of bracelets. He passed one to an unsuspecting Namjoon, and tossed one for Yoongi to catch in his hands to inspect closely. Jungkook strided over to Y/n, and she held her hand out for him to place it in her palm. 

It was a circlet made of alternating beads. Upon closer inspection, she noticed one of them wasn’t a bead at all, but a seed. The peony seeds. The spheres dotted in between the seeds were clear and made of what she suspected to be resin, with small petals, leaf fragments or spices suspended in the middle of each one. 

“This is gorgeous, Jungkook. Did you make these?” She vocalized her praise, and he averted his eyes at the attention with a short nod. “I love it really, thank you.” 

Namjoon grunted in agreement, and even Yoongi gave him a soft ‘thanks’ and slipped it onto his wrist. Y/n stretched the sturdy elastic onto her arm and rotated her forearm to cherish the way it looked on her wrist, her heart fluttering at the thought and time he had to have put into each one. 

“Let’s get started. Y/n, can you put some of the belladonna in this bowl please?” Yoongi seemed to have regained the usual calm composure he tried to keep while they worked, and fixed his attention to where she still stood. 

She dropped her arm down to her side with a timid nod, and shimmied the bundle from the paper bag. Tugging a few sprigs out from its confines, she lowered herself into her designated spot with Jungkook following suit. Y/n tried to treat the dried plant gingerly, the dried flowers still attached to the stem were hanging on by small threads of spindly plant fiber, and would be easily knocked loose without proper care. She eased it into the bowl in front of her and waited for further instruction. 

“You can put some of the Juniper Berry in there if you feel like it. I’ll help.” Yoongi reached in front of her to snatch the bag up before she could herself. He tossed her the Juniper bag and dropped the Angelia onto his lap. Yoongi wet his lips as he pinched the Angelica from the bag and sprinkled it in with the Belladona. Repeating the same motions with the Valerian. Y/n’s finger’s began to tremble as she plucked each berry individually from the bag, feeling the tickle of each in her palm before grabbing the next. She settled on four of them: one for each person in the room. Y/n didn’t know if it would help but it definitely helped her focus on her friends being present than whatever else remained on the other side. The thought of Hadwin, Heidi, or her sister just waiting for her to step into their playing field just outside of her sight, for the perfect time to pounce on her, made her palms sweat as she dropped the berries into the bowl. 

“We are going to start with what we did yesterday. But instead of me using you both as a springboard, I’m going to nudge you through instead.” Yoongi snapped the pouch close and held it out for Namjoon to take from him. Once it was out of his hand, he ran both hands through his hair and sucked in a sudden breath. “I’m going to be honest Y/n, I’ve never been in there before. I don’t know what it will be like or what you will see. I don’t even know for sure if we will be able to communicate with you while you’re gone. I don’t have anything to go off of to prepare you for it. So if it gets overwhelming, just look for the candles or try to feel for us. Whatever you can do is enough, okay?” 

Yoongi’s coal black eyes pierced through her, and she was fully able to see just how unsettled he was in how they glinted in the candle light. His face looked pale and clammy, and his hair disheveled from having run his hands through it. Y/n couldn’t form the words of a response, and just gave a shaky nod. 

Yoongi grabbed her hand in a firm hold, giving it one quick squeeze. Jungkook mirrored his movements, going as far as to interlace their fingers together to keep them in place. She realized with a shudder that they were waiting for her to take the lead, all three sets of eyes waiting for her to make the first move.

Namjoon situated himself onto his desk chair in her direct line of sight, and gave her a comforting bob of his head. Y/n let her eyes fall closed at the sound of his soothing voice murmuring “I’m right here.” 

At first, it started just like it had started before. The feeling of being trapped in a fishbowl, the calm lapping lake, and the looming presence. And just as it had done the day prior–the lake turned dark and murky. It’s waves pulling her under with each jolt against her skin. Y/n’s breathing felt too fast in her chest as she prepared for what was to come. She grit her teeth, and forced herself to keep her eyes closed. She told herself she had felt it once before and survived, thus she could do it again.

Y/n’s body slumped backwards against the bed, eyes tugged backwards in an agonizing suction sensation that made her want to scream out for them to stop–but she didn’t. She gripped both the hands that were in her own and took as deep of a breath as she could manage. The rubber band’s resistance yanked her down into the blackness below her, seizing every inch of her body as it tried to rip her from her away from reality. Pressure cascading down her form, and filled her chest, her lungs, her mind–anything it could find a way into. It burned. She couldn’t breathe anymore. Couldn’t feel their hands in her own, or the ground underneath where she sat. It felt like she was truely drowning. The tugging sensation on the back of her head gave one final jerk of its hold, and all at once everything was quiet. 

Y/n’s eyes popped open, and she was back in Namjoon’s room where she had left. Jungkook and Yoongi’s eyes were still closed, and Namjoon was still watching over her from where he was seated at his desk. Y/n’s breathing evened out, and she let out a defeated sigh while she moved her hands away from Yoongi and Jungkook’s. 

“I’m sorry Yoongi. It didn’t work. Is there something else we can try? Another herb or plant?” She turned her head to regard Yoongi and Namjoon respectively as she spoke. She lifted one up to fan at the cloud of incense smoke that seemed to leave the room in a smoky haze. “Should we put this out? It’s filling the room with smoke–it’s going to set off the fire alarms.” Her mouth felt like it was moving around mounds of cotton with each word and she licked her lips to rid herself of the persistent feeling, but it did not dissipate. Not even with three firm swallows. 

Namjoon didn’t respond, remaining still as a statue with eyes trained on where she sat; and Yoongi made no move to put out the burning stick. 

“Guys, come on–let’s not beat a dead horse. Let’s try a different tactic.” Y/n lifted herself to her feet to try and get them to follow, but still nothing. She scoffed and leant a hand down to poke at Yoongi’s shoulder. Her heart dropped in her stomach, and her eyes bulged in their sockets as her finger swiped right through his shirt and into his shoulder. 

“Oh my god!” Y/n recoiled her hand from his body and staggered backwards, pins and needles snaked up her arm and her bottom fell onto Namjoon’s comforter. Y/n looked down past her legs in horror–her own body laid near her feet, curled in on itself in a heap. She scrambled backwards away from herself, being so close made nausea build up in her stomach. 

Yoongi seemed to respond to her phantom touch–his shoulders tensing and releasing as he shook them out and soundlessly cleared his throat. She watched his mouth open and close in words she couldn’t hear, but the other two men seemed to be able to. Jungkook’s eyes flew open in a black all consuming stare at where her body laid, his face drained itself of color as his gaze slowly rose from her body to where she lay sprawled on Namjoon’s bed. Y/n saw Namjoon’s mouth curve in rushed words, and Yoongi’s neck nearly snapped in half to give him a snide retort. Y/n couldn’t tear her eyes away from Jungkook, he was the only one to acknowledge her with his own wide ones. 

“Jungkook, can you hear me?” Y/n rushed to crouch at his side, and his rounded eyes filmed over in a glassy sheen while his lips moved in frantic motions. Y/n shook her head, and felt her heart lodge itself in her throat. “I can’t hear you…” 

Jungkook seemed to understand, and spoke again. This time she assumed it was to the other men in the room with him because they both looked aimlessly in her direction, but they’re befuddled and wandering stares never seemed to find their target. Only Jungkook could see her. 

Even though she wasn’t technically in her body anymore, she still could feel sweat accumulate on the back of her neck and her hair stand on its ends. She rose to stand on a pair of quivering knees, and Jungkook's head turned upwards to follow her movements. 

Footsteps thundered down the hall on the other side of the door, the sound deafening in comparison to the dead silence it had destroyed. Y/n felt paralyzed with fear, and watched as the shadow of someone darted past the door, their footsteps growing quieter the further they ran. Her mouth was stuck open, but she willed her body to unlock itself from its frigid state and take slow controlled steps towards the door. 

“I’m doing this for a reason. Don’t let all of this be for nothing.” Y/n comforted herself, her shaking hand cupping the door knob. 

Y/n’s attention was jolted back towards the circle, as the distant sensation of three quick squeezes on her right hand snagged her in. Jungkook’s eyebrows drew outward in a silent plea, and he flickered his eyes down to their hands and gave three much more forceful squeezes. Don’t let go. Y/n reached into herself, finding the green roots and vines from within. She stretched one long imaginary tendril out to curl around their intertwined hands, and tried one small tug.

“I won’t.” She mouthed from the doors threshold. 

Y/n found she didn’t need to open the door as she walked out into the hall, checking both ends and starting towards the landing with a slow tread. The smokey haze continued out into the hall, and she surmised that it must not be from the incense at all–but from being in another world. Her heart hammered in her ears, making it difficult to hear anything outside of the booming metronome. But she pushed forward, taking the stairs one at a time. 

There was no sign of whoever had been rushing down the hall, and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned by that. She wasn’t sure where else to go–they hadn’t discussed anything beyond this point. 

“Maybe I should head back.” Y/n glanced over her shoulder at the stairs she had just descended, but a nagging feeling in her stomach told her to wait. 

“What on god’s green earth-Y/n?” 

Y/n spun on her heels, coming face to face with a woman peering out at her from the study. She could not possibly be any older than thirty, with e/c eyes and dark curly hair creating a voluminous halo in a style that came straight from an 80’s magazine–as did her clothes. One of her hands held onto the open pocket door, and the other clutched at a string of pearls encircling her neck. The same necklace that sat tucked away in Amelia’s room-

“Oma?” Y/n couldn’t hide the way her mouth fell open in shock, and tears gathered at her waterline. Her grandmother twirled one of the pearls in three fingers, and her spine straightened at the word. 

The Younger version of her grandmother lunged forward, and gripped at Y/n’s forearms.  “Y/n–you can’t be here. You need to leave n-” 

“Officer~” A strident, bone chilling, snarl sang from the second floor. Her grandmother’s eyes frantically darted to the landing where the voice had echoed from, and back to Y/n. 

“Quick, in here.” She tugged Y/n back into the study she had just come out of, sliding the pocket door closed in a manner that didn’t feel fast enough for Y/n’s liking. Through the now closed doors, she heard an inhuman cackle from the top of the stairs. 

“Now now brother, must we play children’s games?” Drawn out, languid steps clomped down from the landing. “If you insist-Ten.” He took another step. 

“Nine.” His voice was splitting at the edges, layering over itself as it vibrated from his vocal chords. 

“Eight.” He was nearing the bottom, his voice growing closer. 

“Seven.” This number came out in a hiss–he didn’t have long before he was outside the study doors. 

“Six.” The pendulum on the grandfather clock behind Y/n whooshed to the left. 

Her grandmother put a hand on Y/n’s shoulder and pushed her away from the door, holding a finger to her lips. 

“Five.” She could practically hear the twisted smile worming onto the mystery man’s face. The clock swung audibly back to the right. 

“Four.” He laughed once more, the sound like sandpaper against her ears. Y/n held her breath, and hoped he wouldn’t be able to hear her heart trying to leap from her chest in the room over.

“Three.” His heavy shoes thudded onto the foyer carpet, he was close. 

“Two.” His voice lilted from the otherside of the door in time with the pendulum’s next swing, finding a way under Y/n’s skin. 

Silence. Her grandmother’s fearful eyes never left Y/n’s, and the clock persisted onwards in its noisy dance. 

“Ready or not–here I come~” 

In an instant the man outside the door took off in a clamoring sprint down the hall, passed the kitchen, and down further towards her fathers office and the downstairs bedrooms. Y/n and her grandmother stayed frozen in place until they could no longer hear him, and a few seconds after that. 

“You must leave now, Ente. It is not safe for you here.” Oma’s voice was hushed, and her hands shook as they caressed both sides of Y/n’s face. 

“I can’t–I need to find out what’s happening here. Please, you must help me-” Y/n raked her tearful eyes over her grandmother’s youthful face “-you’re beautiful, Oma.”

A rueful smile curved her grandmother’s face. “Thank you, Schatz.” She ran one finger tenderly down Y/n’s cheek. “Just like you.” The tears threatening to spill down Y/n’s cheeks bubbled over, and Oma wiped them away. She placed both hands resolutely on Y/n’s shoulders.

“I know you want to help, but it’s too dangerous. It’s gone too far.” 

Y/n moved her head back and forth in a stubborn shake. “I don’t care. What’s gone too far?” 

Her grandmother did not answer, instead taking a few tentative steps back towards the pocket doors. Moving her hair out of the way, her grandmother pressed her ear up to the wood and listened for any noise on the other side. 

“Oma, please.” Y/n followed after her, and pressed her own ear against the door that would allow them to face each other in a clandestine council. 

Her grandmother puffed out a sigh, and regarded Y/n with a knowing displeasure. 

“Stubborn.” She hissed, but Y/n could see her eyes igniting in mischief. “Just like the rest of us. A true Wörner.” 

Y/n grinned, her damp cheeks aching with how wide they stretched and they both erupted in shared, quiet giggles. Their laughter died down, and they took a moment to just gaze at each other, taking in the feeling of being together. 

“We don’t have very long. The more you linger, the stronger your presence becomes. They will be able to sense you.” Her grandmother’s smile slipped from her lips, replaced with a somber aura. “They are coming for us–all of us. We can only hold him off for so long.” 

“Who?” Y/n implored, inching closer. 

Multiple sets of shoes stampeded down the hall putting an end to any answer she was about to give. There was a series of grunts, as whoever was outside the door scuffled  into the dining room across the hall. Her grandmother gave a sharp intake of breath, and released it with a shudder, her eyes beginning to quiver where they looking into Y/n’s own.

“Brother, why do you insist on being so…” The crackling voice from before staggered, labored rattling breaths cutting him off. “...difficult.”  The sound of skin hitting skin rang from across the threshold, followed by the sickening thud of a body hitting the floor. 

Y/n’s grandmother grabbed one of Y/n’s hands in an unyielding grip, and whispered to her in urgency. “When I say the word, you will run back to where you came from. Do you understand me, Entlein?”

“I want to help you-” 

“No! You will run.” Her grandmother’s gaze was blazing with inflexible authority.  “You are no help dead.” 

Y/n felt tears begin to drip down her cheeks in an unstoppable torrent. She nodded. 

“Good.” Oma’s whisper was unsteady. Scared. The hand that her grandmother wasn’t holding tingled in a phantom touch–Jungkook.  

“Ich war noch nie jemand, der sich so leicht vor Faschisten verneigt. Oder hast du vergessen, woher wir kommen, Bruder?” A bright, orotund voice spat back at the demon. 

“Now!” Y/n’s grandmother whipped the pocket doors open, and shoved Y/n out and and towards the staircase. Y/n didn’t look back as she bolted, taking the stairs two at a time. 

“Margaret.” The mangled voice seethed through its teeth, a guttural growl tearing from its throat. 

Y/n heard the unmistakable crunch of bones, pulling Y/n to a stop and alarm bells sounded in her head. Her feet rushed to hang her upper half over the banister, blinded by the thought of her grandmother being defenseless against the inhuman creature below. Y/n’s grandmother–Margaret–cradled a clenched fist to her chest. The man she had landed a punch on was unrecognizable–his skin nearly completely rotted and hanging in peeling sheets from his skeletal frame. Red and pink muscles and tendons rippled as he bent backwards from the blow, his jaw knocked completely loose by the impact. 

Y/n threw her hands into the air in unexpected victory. “Get him, Oma!” 

Margaret looked up at Y/n in some wicked cross between amusement and reproachful rage. 

“How nice of you to join us, Entlein.” What was left of the man’s face shifted in Y/n’s direction, his dislocated mandible quaking with the effort it took to rise and meet his upper teeth in a disfigured smile. Y/n’s heart stopped, and she felt as though she might pass out at that very second. Her disembodied knees almost collapsed out from beneath her in the face of the frightening sight before her.

“Flieh Y/n!” A shorter, not yet decaying man leapt onto the demon from within the dining room, sending the latter careening backwards out of her sight. 

Y/n and Margeret shared one last despondent look before Y/n heeded their words, booking it back down the hall in the direction of Namjoon’s room. A scream ripped from Y/n’s throat at the sight of what was waiting for as she rounded the corner. 

“I always hated when you children ran through the halls.” What was left of Patti’s melting eyes dripped like black tar down her face and onto the floor at her gray, decaying feet. Her yellow collared dress was ashy and torn. She stumbled towards Y/n in a zombie-like pattern, each foot nearly collapsing under her own weight. 

Y/n skidded to a stop, and took a hesitant step back towards the landing. 

“Boo!” a high-pitched squeal from behind Y/n made her stumble forward, tripping over her own feet and barely managing to catch herself on the blue painted wall. 

One of the twins jumped for joy where Y/n had just stood, her eyes black and teeth mostly gone from her twisted grin. Her face was longer than the girl who had greeted Y/n in the kitchen, and her voice had a raspier edge crinkling its tone. Inga. 

“Leave me alone!” Y/n couldn’t decide who to look at–the creeping woman or the child that lowered itself to the ground on her haunches, coiling herself to pounce. She needed to run. She needed to get back to her friends. Patti still hadn’t made it to Namjoon’s door, but she didn’t have much farther to go–Y/n didn’t have time to putz around. 

She felt for Jungkook’s hand–finding she could still feel a lingering weight in both of Yoongi and Jungkook from whatever connection she had with her physical body. She took one deep inhale, not letting either ghost out of her sight as she prepared her legs to run. A solid black figure made an entrance at the top of the stiars as it hoisted its upper body with two long arms up onto the landing–and Y/n took that as her signal to get the hell out of there. 

She bounded down the hall, pumping her arms in an effort to will herself forward. Inga’s body collided with the wall where she had just stood seconds prior with a blood-curdling crunch, a shrieking scream that reverberated in y/n’s ears peeled from her small mouth as she squashed to the floor. Patti’s hand nearly missed Y/’n’s arm as she threw herself through the door and back into the safety of Namjoon’s room, landing on her stomach onto the floor. Y/n rose onto her knees and elbows in a clumsy army crawl to where her body laid before her. 

A small, wet freezing hand locked in place like a shackle around her ankle, yanking her backwards. Y/n screamed, clawing at the floor to get a hold of anything she could, but nothing stuk.  She kicked wildly with her foot that was cut out of her vision where it remained on the other side of the door. Her wild eyes found Jungkook’s fiery ones. His nostrils flared, and without hesitation he threw her hand into Yoongi’s lap, barking an unheard order his way and leaping to his feet. Yoongi rushed to situate himself in front of Y/n to take both of her hands, he looked with panicked eyes in her direction, his eyes finally lighting up in recognition–she must’ve been terror-stricken enough for him to see where she was.

Jungkook tried to grapple for Y/n’s arms, but each attempt he made went right through her as if she was made of mist. He got on his knees, gritted his teeth, and tried once more. She was jerked a few feet back and out of reach of his next grab by another larger wet hand finding purchase on her other foot, and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out in alarm. There was nothing for her to grab onto, and they were winning the fight. She yelled out in defiance, and flipped herself onto her back. With all of her might, she kicked her feet down and outwards as they gave another tug–from her midthigh and onwards now at their mercy. The heel of her socked foot met something warm and wet, leaving it coated in something thick and sticky. She tried not to vomit at the thought of what it could be by homing in on one of the hands faltering its grip enough for her to kick it off. 

The warmth of both Yoongi and Jungkook’s hands–a stark comparison to the remaining cold ones on her lower extremities–gripped underneath her arms with all they had, and in one fell swoop they heaved her into the room and out of the other being's violent hold. She took little time crawling to her body that was cradled on the black cloth in Namjoon’s arms, his eyes flying in every direction and his lip bleeding from where he had chewed it raw. Y/n didn’t know how to get back into herself, and she turned to the two psychics behind her in desperation. Jungkook grabbed at Yoongi in a joint scramble back to her body, both of their temples beading with sweat. Yoongi snuffed out the candles in one smash of his palm, a grimace pulling at his face from the sting of the flame licking against his skin before they whiffed out in a string of white smoke from between his fingers. They both wasted no time shoving the pillars out of the way, lifting her body from Namjoon’s hold and into her back the middle of the cloth. The malefic spirits on the other side of the door began to throw themselves against it with vigor. Loud enough for the men on the plane of the living to hear as all three heads swiveled towards the door in a panic. 

The men’s mouths all moved in overlapping speed, and she was unable to decipher any of it. She saw her own chest below her rise and fall in rapid succession with the uptick in her own breathing, and her wet eyes glazed in a thicker sheen than before. 

“Let me in! Let me in! God-” she peered over her shoulder at the door that looked as though it would bust from its hinges with how much force the spirits were putting against it “-Let. Me. In.” She tried to shake her own shoulder to no avail. 

Yoongi hunched himself over her head, perching it on the tops of his thighs and cushioning both sides of her face with his large hands–his lips running at a mile a minute. Both of Jungkook’s hands squeezed one of her own in a bone crushing grip that she felt the aftershocks of from her place next to him. 

Jungkook turned to her and shouted something unintelligible, but pointed with his eyes at her body below them. The pounding on the door egged her on, as she crawled over herself to lay down in the same position. Even though it was the last thing she wanted to do, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to find her vines. They were weak, and spindly–but they were there. Persistent. Y/n latched herself onto their image and pulled herself towards the withering seedling with all she had left.

She must be drowning, she thought. The water poured from her mouth in heaving coughs, spilling out from her lungs and stomach. Each time she thought she had gotten it all, a violent wave would pummel her, knocking her out of focus and keeping her in a vice grip from where the back of her head was tethered in place. Something tugged on her skull from behind her eyes, leaving her entire body numb. There was no more water, and no more knocking. There was nothing.

_________________________________________

_________________________________________

Oma: Grandma

Schatz: Term of endearment i.e sweetheart, treasure, darling

“Ich war noch nie jemand, der sich so leicht vor Faschisten verneigt. Oder hast du vergessen, woher wir kommen, Bruder?” : I've never been one to bow down so easily to facists. Or have you forgotten where we come from, brother?"

Flieh: Flee!

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[secret-kpoplibrary]

Inspiring Romance Pt. 1

Pairing: Yoongi x Plus-sized Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: None :))

Genre: Fluff I guess??

Summary: You spent years happily taking care of an old man who surprisingly leaves you a huge gift when he passes. To your surprise, this gift has brought his grandson to your doorstep. Unfortunately, his grandson is one frustratingly arrogant piece of work and now thanks to his grandfather you're stuck with him for three months. You're sure his grandfather rolling in his grave watching the two of you fight every day and as much as you'd like to get along with him for his grandad's sake- he just makes it so hard to like him that you think you'll strangle him before he leaves this place. There's simply no way this could be worse.

***

You quickly finish cleaning the last table in your section and rush to put on your jacket before you clock out.

"Now where are you rushing off to this time?" Your coworker and friend Joy jokingly asks you.

"I'm rushing off to where I'm always rushing off to. I have to I have to check on Mr. Min." You tell her even though she already knows the answer.

"I don't understand why you take shifts during the day if you worry so much about that old man while you're here." Joy shakes her head.

"Despite it being my job he insists I can't spend all my time doting on him. In fact he demands I 'have a life outside of this old manor'. Even though his family wants him to have help he still prides himself on his independence. He'd have to be bedridden before he let me take care of him around the clock." You scoff.

"I say you use the time for hobbies. They pay you so well you don't need this job. The diner will go on without you, you know." Joy says.

"Even if that's true, for now, I am quite happy here thank you. And I still have time for hobbies you rude bitch." You joke. Joy laughs heartily as you clock out.

"Hey! That language is not appropriate around customers."

"I am officially off the clock so I can say whatever I damn well please. I'll see you Joy."

"Friday!" She yells after you as you push through the diner doors and head out to your car. You make the drive up to the manor you've spent most of the last few years in. It's a gorgeous property on a hill overlooking a beach. There are a few houses a short walk away and while the neighbors are friendly enough most everyone around here seems to prefer keeping to themselves.

"Mr. Min! It's y/n! I'm back from work!" You yell out as you shut the door behind you. Your job as his caretaker means you have a key to his house and he usually expects you to let yourself in and out with how often you come and go. When you don't hear a response from the old man, you make your way to the library where he usually doses off reading in the afternoons. "Mr. Min?" You gently shake him when you find him exactly where you expect him, asleep in his large reading chair with a book in his lap.

"Y/n- oh dear did I dose off?" He mutters.

"You always do Mr. Min. I've told you if you want to nap, please, do it in your bed. This can't be good for your back." You chuckle helping him out of his chair.

"Oh would you relax? My back is fine. I don't nod off on purpose but please remember I'm not a child. You worry too much."

"Mr. Min please remember it is my job to worry about you. I would be a terrible caretaker if I didn't worry. Your granddaughter would probably throw a fit." You chuckle.

"What time is it y/n?"

"It's almost five. I'll have dinner ready soon, I just wanted to find you first." You tell him.

"I'm not rushing you. I never do. You worked a morning shift today at the diner then?"

"I did. They needed me to."

"Good! If you're here all day you'll suffocate me." He jokes.

"Mr. Min if you keep talking like that you might just convince me you don't want me around." You retort as you turn on the stove to make dinner.

"And yet I've told you a dozen times to not speak so formally with me- you refuse, how can you also think I don't want you around?"

"It feels odd calling you by your first name, first of all, I work for you, and secondly you're significantly older than me. It would be like calling my grandfather by first name." You explain.

"I've heard your explanations before, still, you're practically family to me now- Mr. Min does not feel familial." He huffs.

"We'll work on a compromise."

"Hm- how was work?"

"It was fine- interesting things seldom happen on the morning shift. Joy was there."

"Joy- how is she?"

"Annoying as always. So I guess that means she's well." You shrug. Mr. Min laughs, well aware of your friendship with Joy.

"Is she still with that human of hers?"

"Yes Mr. Min. Not everyone wants to date a wolfboy you know."

"I don't understand, she'll have to keep herself a secret from him. That can't be fun."

"Well, it's not like they're getting married. If it ever gets to the point that they're planning to spend the rest of their lives together I'm sure Joy will tell him the truth."

"And that's a better option than just dating a wolf she doesn't have to keep secrets from? Why don't you advise this girl? You're friends aren't you?"

"Yes we're friends but it's certainly not my place to tell her what to do with her love life. Especially with how new I am to the wolf thing myself. If he makes her happy that's all that matters for now. You know, those wolf boys are not always so great I'm sure." 

"I believe for a girl such as yourself, or your dear friend, a wolf with always be a better match."

"Well I'll be sure to pass along your message Mr. Min." You chuckle lightly. Mr. Min has always had very peculiar opinions on dating. It's not that he's a genetic purist but he does often worry about the tendencies of humans to overreact when it comes to things they don't understand. According to Mr. Min, if you must date a human, make it a woman, he believes a woman would be less likely to turn you over to scientists to become a lab rat. You've always wondered why he harbors such strong opinions but whenever you ask he just tells you that history repeats itself if you don't learn the lessons taught by it. You wonder if perhaps someone he knew fell victim to loving the wrong human boy and paid the price for it, but at this point, you're sure he'll never tell you if that's the reason he thinks the way he does.

"Alright Mr. Min, I have to return to my apartment but I will only be gone for a few hours." You tell him after dinner is finished and the kitchen is cleaned up.

"You know you're allowed to go home. I think I can manage to put myself to bed y/n. I will see you in the morning." He tells you.

"Mr. Min-"

"I will hear no disagreements. Go home, I've eaten, the house is clean, I'm not so weak that I can't handle one night on my own. After all, you'd have to live here if I couldn't." Mr. Min laughs at his own joke.

"If you insist-"

"I do actually. Perhaps this will prove to you that I am not some frail husk of a man withering to nothing."

"I never said any of that! Your granddaughter only wants to ensure you are well taken care of in your daughter's absence." You say.

"And you take very good care of me. But I will tell you what I have always told both my daughter and my granddaugter, wolves do not break the way humans do. I am still more capable than the average person my age." Mr. Min grumbles.

"And that is why you are allowed to live in this house alone with minimal assistance. Don't push your luck Mr. Min." You smile at him.

"Minimal being the emphasized word here."

"Fine fine- I will leave you be for the night but I will be back first thing in the morning-"

"Like you always are. I look forward to it, but please enjoy your night. You are too young to be so wrapped up in the affairs of an old man." He waves you off.

"It is my job to be wrapped up in the affairs of this particular old man." You roll your eyes as you throw on your jacket and take your leave with one last shout goodbye. 

When you return to your apartment your roommate is sitting on the couch with a carton of takeout watching some sitcom you don't quite catch the name of. Your roommate Irene works for a marketing firm that keeps her pretty occupied. You shrug off your jacket and take off your shoes before you yell out to her that you're home.

"Oh hey! I wasn't expecting you to come back tonight." She says through a mouth full of lo mein.

"Mr. Min pretty much banished me for the evening." You chuckle.

"What?"

"I told him I had to come back here for something but I'd return in a few hours and he basically demanded I not come back until morning. You know how he gets with those speeches of independence." You shrug.

"You know- I don't understand, if he's so independent, why does he have a caretaker anyway?"

"As independent as he may be he does have some health problems, medications that he takes, that sometimes make it harder for him to handle all the things around his house. He knows it as well as I do but damn if he won't hold on to every shred of independence he's got." You shake your head.

"Doesn't he have any kids?" Irene frowns.

"A daughter who is sick and he's got two grandkids, the granddaughter that hired me and a grandson that he raised as I understand." You muse.

"And where is he?" Irene asks.

"Well I'd guess not even the heavens know at this point." You shrug.

"Wait what?"

"Nobody has heard from him since before his aunt got sick. His cousins have no idea where he is and I don't think Mr. Min cares enough to force him home. I mean- he barely wants me looking after him anyway. There's no reason to pester his flighty grandchild."

"It doesn't seem odd to you? That his grandson never tries to contact him?" Irene asks you.

"Mr. Min is alone for enough of the day that they very well might be in contact and I wouldn't know. Either way none of that is my business. My business is Mr. Min's wellbeing and as long as his grandson is not a deterrent to that he could be hiking Antarctica in shorts."

"Why in shorts-?"

"I am making a point here Irene- just eat your lo mein." You roll your eyes.

"I'm just saying it's weird. Did you want some by the way?" She holds the carton out to you.

"Maybe their relationship isn't good Irene. Who cares? No thanks, I just ate with Mr. Min. Maybe later."

"Okay but who would beef with Mr. Min? You always describe him as like the best old man ever. I can't imagine his grandkid hating him."

"Mr. Min is a very sweet old man as far as I know yeah, in fact he treats me like I'm his grandkid too, but that doesn't mean he's not shitty to his own. I mean he's nice to me sure but maybe that kindness came with age and he wasn't so great when his grandson was around, after all, he didn't sign up for having to raise a second generation but he had to when the kid's parents died. I don't know, and we can speculate all night but we have no way of knowing why his grandson isn't around and quite frankly your nosy ass shouldn't be worried about it. You don't even know the man." You scoff.

"But you do and he's so nice to you- his daughter's family seems to care about him a lot but- he must be so sad without his grandson around. Imagine you take all that time raising one of those crotch goblins and they don't even bother to visit you in their old age. He probably doesn't even know his granddad's got a caregiver." Irene points her chopsticks at you and you sigh.

"Irene- would you like to go with me to see Mr. Min tomorrow? Since you're so concerned with his loneliness, you can see for yourself that he's fine, happy even."

"I'd love to in fact. At least I know he's got you. And if his own grandson won't care, perhaps it's a good thing Mr. Min treats you like his granddaughter."

"Irene do you know something I don't? I know you're opinionated but this seems like a strange topic to harp on." You chuckle.

"It's just- we're wolves! Pack animals. To completely abandon your family- I mean- we don't do that!" Irene huffs.

"Irene, darling, if this has to do with your brother, I'm sure he'll come around. But don't project those concerns onto Mr. Min's family. You don't know these people, maybe his grandson has a perfectly reasonable explanation for not being around."

"Do you even know his name?"

"What?"

"His name. Mr. Min's grandson. Do you know his name?"

"Mr. Min has told me once or twice but I- I can't remember off the top of my head. You can ask him yourself tomorrow when you meet him if you like." You shrug.

"I very well might."

"Irene- do not piss off my charge. Keep your questions polite. I like the old man, I don't fancy seeing him turn angry and bitter." You warn your friend.

"I think he likes you too much to ever really be angry with you." She shrugs. You roll your eyes at her and snatch one of her fortune cookies off of the table. If there's one thing about Irene, she's not easily deterred.

***

Part 1/???

Tagged Users: @schokoshaker

[sslytheringhufflepufff]

Tranquil

Min Yoongi/SUGA x Chubby Reader

It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything so I hope you guys like this

It’s very fluffy so if you want more like this from other members let me know <3

The day was slow, painfully slow to be exact. You opened a couple of weeks ago but you still weren’t as known as you wanted to be. The door’s bell rang bringing you back from your thoughts and two young men walked in, one a little bit taller than the other “Hi, welcome to Tranquil, how may I help you?” You said smiling at them politely “Hello, can I please get a large Americano” the tallest of the two said “Sure, anything else?” You asked and the tallest turned around and asked “What do you want?” “An Iced americano, large” said the other one in a broken English but easy to understand “Okay, Name for the order?” “Namjoon” “Okay it’ll be ready shortly” you said smiling at them “Ask her” the other men said while taping Namjoons shoulder “Do you have any private place here where we could work?” “We don’t have a private seating area but the shops barely gets customers, but if you guys want you can take a seat on the booth at the back, that’s where I hide from my boss” you said laughing “Great, thank you” Namjoon said turning around “You heard her, head out” the other one nodded and gave you a small smile “Here’s your order, you guys can stay as long as you want, the shop gets lonely sometimes so its nice to know that there’s people here” “Thanks” Namjoon said smiling and taking the order walking away with his friend.

A couple of days have passed and Namjoon and his friend whose name I still don’t know but came to the realization is extremely adorable have been to the shop everyday usually ordering the same thing always which I don’t mind because it’s easier than making other drinks that take more time. The bell at the door rang making you stand up smiling you greet the customer you know but not his name “Hi, you’re alone today, same as always?” You smile at him and he nods “What’s going to be the name for the order?” He stared at you for a moment before answering “Yoongi” you smile finally learning his name writing it down on the cup “Ill take it to your table” “I’m going to sit there today” he said pointing at the table by a big window in front of the counter “Okay” you nodded and smiled as he turned around and walked towards the table setting down his bags and sitting down. He took out a notebook, his computer and some earphones and started writing as you made his drink looking at the name on the cup “Yoongi, hmph cute like him” you whispered smiling, grabbing their drink taking it to his table “Enjoy” you say smiling at him, he smiles back which gives you butterflies in your stomach, he has a really cute smile, you start walking back “Hey, wait” you turn around looking back at him “Yes?” He stares at you for a while before speaking “ Your Name?” Smiling “Y/n” he smiles and nods “Pretty too” you look at him and blush lightly laughing at his comment “Thank you” you say walking back to the serving counter heading through the back door closing it behind you letting out a sigh and replaying his words on you mind smiling at them jumping a little as you try to calm yourself and grabbing something random to make it look as if you were looking for something in the back and heading back to the counter sighting as you look up staring at Yoongi, he has white hair and is very pale but he looks angelic, the sunlight is hitting him in the face lightly making his dark brown eye look lighter ‘he really looks like an angel while I look like this’ you thought to yourself as you looked down. You were chubby, which there’s nothing wrong with it, but boys like Yoongi would never go for a girl like you, heck no boy ever went for a girl like you, at your age you’ve never had a boyfriend or anything close to that it it was fine but it got lonely sometimes, you just wished for something special, someone special. You sighed going back to work cleaning the floor and making some orders here and there, the night was getting close and Yoongi was still at the table sometimes glancing up looking at you without you noticing, he stared at you while you talked to other customers, your charisma and personality shinning with them, he really thought you were beautiful with your chubby adorable cheeks that made him want to squish them and kiss them but he didn’t really have the nerve to even talk to you, hell he just asked your name after a week of convincing Namjoon to come with him everyday until today where he had to come alone because Namjoon was meeting up with one of their other friends, he invited Yoongi but he really wanted to see you again so he declined and got the courage to come the the shop, and here he is, staring at you while you prepared another order.

The next day Yoongi came in with a small smile on his face as you greet him “Ice Americano?” “Actually not today” “oh?” “I came by to ask you on a date” he said smiling wide showing his adorable gummy smile “Really?” “Yes, unless you don’t want to” he said hurriedly as his cheeks turned pinkish red “I mean i would love to but are you sure? You look like an angle while i look like-“ “A Goddess” you stared at him looking for the lie in his eyes but all you saw was honesty “Yoongi I-“ “Please” you sighed “you don’t have to do that” “Do what?“ he said looking at you confused “I really want to take you on a Date y/n, look maybe you don’t like me like that but-“ “No Yoongi, i really like you and i would love to go on a date with you but I don’t want this to be a joke” “It isn’t, i swear its not, since the first day i saw you i had to convince Joon to come with me because i never had the nerve to talk to you myself, then i just started coming alone and it felt great because you talked to me like a normal person, you didn’t mind the language barrier and even helped me learn new things, I’ve had this massive crush on you since the first day that you smiled, those cute chubby cheeks that with all honesty it has taken everything inside of me to not reach out and grab them and kiss , because y/n, I think you are the most beautiful person i have ever seen, inside and out. “ he sighed looking at you “I swear the least i want to do is hurt you” he said smiling a little making your heart flutter “You really want to squish my cheeks?” You said giggle at the comment “Yes, I really do, i also want to squish other things but that’s for another time” he said smirking making you turn tomato red “So what do you say?” “Maybe you’ll get to squeeze my cheeks tomorrow after work” you said smiling at him he let out a chuckle “It’s a date then” he said smiling walking away “Hey wait, here” you said giving him and ice americano “You didn’t ask for it but i had it already made for you, its on the house” you said chuckling “I want to marry you” he said grabbing the coffee chuckling while you just stared at him as he walked away feeling you cheeks heat up at his comment that he literally said as if it was nothing out of the ordinary right after asking you on a date “This boy is going to be the death of me.” You said while you ran your hands through your hair smiling lightly thinking about him.

[plussizeappreciationfics]

OH MY GOD I FORGOT BABY DADDY MIN YOONGI BIRTHDAY 😱😱 can't have that....Ok so let's get hot birthday sex with paint

Creative bday sex with Yoongi includes:

-Him making sure that you celebrate your birthday a few days before the actual date with your friends and family as he wants to you all to himself on the actual special day

-You knowing that he’s got something up his sleeve as he keep smirking and giggling like a little schoolgirl whenever you ask him about his plans

-Your birthday then finally arriving, Yoongi waking you up with a big breakfast, roses and more gifts (like he already hasn’t gifted you a dozen of expensive and luxurious presents)

-Yoongi feeds you little bites while singing the birthday song, watching in pure happiness how you bask in all his love and devour the delicious food he’s made

-Your boo then prepares your special milk bath, wanting your skin to be as nourished and healthy as possible. He helps you wrap your (already washed, conditioned and moisturized) hair in a silk scarf before joining you and holding you close

-Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you feel so loved, appreciated and worshipped. That man has always made sure that you’d get spoiled rotten with love, gifts and the upmost respect

-The two of you simply cuddle and clean each other’s bodies, concluding that lunch will take place later as you’re still full from the big breakfast

-After the milk bath, Yoongi suspiciously waddles out of the bathroom in his robe and mumbles something about having forgotten to turn the oven off, a well known excuse/lie he tells when he’s up to something

-You continue to apply body lotion with ease while a random melody leaves your lips

-The sound of your boo calling you makes you leave the bathroom and entering your shared bedroom with a gasp

-Yoongi standing next to your bed that’s covered in a white sheet, a few small buckets of body paint resting next to it while he’s butt ass naked

-“Happy birthday to me” you sigh in excitement while wriggling the bathrobe off your body, lust already buzzing through your body

-The two of you standing on the laid out towels on the floor, using your hands and brushed to paint each other’s bodies from shoulders to feet before you lie on the covered bed and grin at your boyfriend “You better rock my world”

-You know I fucking will”

-The two of you then going at it, tossing and turning all over the white sheet while caving into your cravings and sexual energy

-Yoongi can’t stop staring at your (slightly painted) face while he thrusts himself deeply inside you

-His moans are promises that he’ll continue to keep you happy and then your next birthday will even be better

-All you can do his moan his name out loud and move your hips against his

-A good hour later, the two of you get off the bed and watch in awe at the painting you’ve created. Your frantic breaths are echoing through the room before you burst out laughing, the white sheet now covered in your hand, feet, back, legs and butt prints

-“I’m gonna hang this up in my studio and not hush an explanation to the hyungs”

-“You know either Tae, Jungkook or Hoseok will find out in a heartbeat right?” you chuckled, embracing your lover and pressing a tender kiss against his lips as you absolutely loved your birthday

-“I don’t care”

-“I can’t wait for my next birthday” you sighed in happiness while the two of you made your way to the kitchen while holding hands, looking like absolute messed but not caring as you’re dying from hunger now

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