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casuallyimagining · 1 year ago

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Set Me Free || myg

min yoongi x female reader

Summary: Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to? Word Count: 14,377 Genre: friends to enemies to lovers, supernatural au, witch & familiar au, soulmate au, angst, fluff Warnings: death of a parent (brief mention), alcohol, soulmate breakup, smooching

Notes: banner by @itaeewon. thank you to @daechwitatamic and @oddinary4bts for beta-ing and listening to me struggle my way through this. as always. and extra thanks to ella for helping me write Yoongi's letters and to my friend tanya for giving me a super helpful base for the ending.

It’s cold. The late autumn wind rustles through amber-brown-orange-yellow leaves, swirling the fallen ones into little tornadoes that scuttle across the pavement. The cold doesn’t bother Yoongi, necessarily. It’s been a while since he’s been here, in this town, on this street, but even after so much time, his body remembers the chill of November in the same way his feet remember the way to his destination. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and pauses at the street corner.

It’s strange being back here. He’d once known this neighborhood so intimately, he could map it in his sleep. Not much has changed in the almost 13 years he’s been gone. The park on the corner is the same. The playground, massive to an eight-year-old with a near-infinite imagination, stands resolute, its plastic and paint sun-faded and weathered. Further up the block is the head of the trail that snakes its way through the forest, where he’d spent countless hours playing pirates as a kid and exploring as a teen. And there, at the end of the street, is his destination.

The closer he gets, the more his stomach roils with nerves. Thirteen years since he’d walked down this sidewalk. Thirteen years since he’d walked onto that front porch. Or rather, 12 years, 5 months, and 11 days.

But who’s counting?

There’s a light on in the front room of the house, he can see it through the big window despite the shades being pulled closed. He hesitates. He’s spent days–no, weeks–playing out in his head how this was going to go. In a moment, he’ll know if any of those scenarios were correct. And frankly, right now, he’s terrified.

What if you start to cry? What if you slam the door in his face? What if you hug him? What if you yell at him? What if you don’t answer? What if you want to talk? What if you never want to see him again? What if you invite him in? What if you have someone over?

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

It takes a second. He can hear shuffling around on the other side of the door, so he knows his knock was heard. But the longer it takes, the sweatier his hands get, and the more he considers turning and running away. The door opens before he can make a move.

You stand in the doorway, bathed in the warm light of the living room lamp behind you. And shit, Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. In many ways, you haven’t changed since the last time he saw you, but at the same time, you look so different. He can see in your eyes the moment the realization hits, and your expression changes drastically. You looked tired–and Yoongi can sense that it goes deeper than just physical exhaustion–and you were slouching, but now, you’re standing ramrod straight, and there’s a hard look in your eyes. One he knows all too well.

“Hey.” He raises a hand, offers a wave that, in hindsight, is rather pathetic. You stare at him, unblinking, and slowly, he lowers his hand. “I uh… I heard about your parents,” he says softly, scuffing his shoe against the wood of the porch. “I’m sorry you have to go through it.”

“Brave of you to show up.” You sound almost bored, but Yoongi knows–he senses, in that kind of primal, gut feeling he gets when it comes to you–that it’s an act. “You know I could turn you into a bug and squash you if I wanted to.”

“I know.”

There’s a tense moment where you stare at each other, the scowl you wear pulling your lips downward and creasing your brow. But then you heave an exhausted sigh.

“Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I…”

I want to apologize.

I’m so sorry.

I miss you.

It all catches in his throat. He coughs in a meager attempt to entice something–anything–to come out of his mouth. “I wanted you to have this.”

He holds out his hands, and in an instant, he’s holding a box. It’s full but not heavy, and he thrusts it out in front of him in your direction.

“A 10-year-old shoebox?” You do nothing to mask your surprise.

“Letters,” he corrects. “You don’t have to read them but… I wanted you to have them.” He pushes the box into your arms, leaving you no choice but to take it. Then, he steps away and nods his head. “Thank you for not turning me into a bug. I am sorry about your parents. I… guess I’ll go.”

Without another word, he trots down the porch steps. And then, in a blink, he’s gone. Disappeared into the night.

You sigh and shut the door, the box he’d given you cradled in the crook of your arm. You don’t have the energy for this right now. Honestly, you aren’t sure that you’ll ever have the energy for it, but certainly not the day before your parents’ funeral.

Whoever had decided that witches and their familiars die together clearly never thought of the ones left behind.

You collapse onto the couch, placing the box beside you. This would be easier if you weren’t alone. It would be easier with Yoongi, your brain supplies less than helpfully. You curse yourself. You curse him. After all these years, you thought you were over it, over the abandonment, over the betrayal. But all it takes is for him to show his stupid face, and you can feel it all bubbling up anew. Angrily, you push the box off the couch. It explodes when it hits the floor, what seems like thousands of pieces of paper tumble out and scatter from the force.

The forest was almost silent as you stalked the trail. Not even the birds were happy that day. Twigs snapped under your feet. You weren’t even paying attention to where you were going, your feet carrying you along the path that you’d hiked countless times before. You needed to get away, to escape, to calm down. But you couldn’t, because what you were running away from was hot on your heels.

“Would you slow down?” You could hear the frustration in Yoongi’s voice as he followed you. You ignored him. “Goddamnit,” he breathed, picking up his pace. “Will you at least listen to me?”

Quite frankly, you didn’t care what he had to say in that moment.

“It wouldn’t be a permanent thing,” he continued. “I just… I don’t know. I need to do this.”

You stopped, sliding a little on the damp new growth below your feet. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not being oppressed, Yoongi. No one’s stopping you from going out and exploring the world.”

“Maybe this way of life isn’t for everyone. Maybe not everyone wants their whole existence to be predetermined at birth. Maybe not everyone wants the universe to choose who they’re supposed to be with and how they’re supposed to live.”

His words stung, and until then, you weren’t quite sure why. Rejection. Not just of how you lived, and who he was, and how things had always been. But of you. Yoongi was your familiar, you were destined to be together in some way since you were six years old and the bond gem first appeared. Not all witches and familiars were in romantic relationships–your parents were, sure, and Yoongi’s parents–but plenty of them had other partners, lives separate from each other. Platonic soulmates navigating the world together.

Until a few months before, you’d been content with that. There was no doubt you’d been best friends from the jump. You’d been practically inseparable through school. Then, months before, he’d kissed you at the winter market. Right there in the park, under the aurora. Before that, you hadn’t thought of him as any more than your best friend. But the kiss had unlocked something inside you. And now…

Now he wanted you gone.

“You want to be free that badly?” By some miracle, your voice sounded positively venomous, even though you felt like you could crumble at any moment. “Fine.”

“Wh-”

There’s a saying your mother told you once, back when you were a child. You and Yoongi had found a turtle in the woods, stuck in the mud. His little turtle leg had been hurt, and you’d rushed it to your mother immediately. Familiars were excellent with animals, and she was no exception, healing the turtle in days when it should have taken weeks. You and Yoongi had both cried when you had to release it back into the wild–you’d both so wanted it to be your friend. ‘If you love something, set it free,’ your mother had said, ‘Sometimes it’s the kindest option.’

Kinder for whom?

The chain around your wrist snapped easily when you wrapped your fingers around it. The incantation meant to keep the bond gem safe became meaningless as soon as you wanted it gone. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been without it around your wrist. You loved it, with its gem of swirling, inky black and navy blue. It reminded you so much of Yoongi, deep and calm and unwavering.

Without a word, you tossed the bracelet to the ground. Yoongi’s eyes widened as it hit and the gem cracked. For good measure, you stepped on it, crushed it into dust. There was a pitiful swirl of blue magic that puffed up from the dirt. When you moved your foot, there was nothing left of the bond gem or its chain.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi’s eyes were glassy when you finally looked at him. He looked almost as crushed as you felt. “What the fuck?”

“You’re free.” And this time, you couldn’t hide your sadness behind your anger.

He didn’t follow you as you walked away, and honestly, it was for the best. It was faint, but you could still feel his emotions, and you weren’t sure you could handle that kind of heartache in person.

There is paper everywhere. Hundreds of pieces, folded neatly in thirds. You have no idea how Yoongi had fit them all into the shoebox. He must’ve enchanted it. Groaning, you start to pick them up.

Letters, he’d said. You flip through some as you gather them up. Now that they’re on the floor, they aren’t in any particular order, but it quickly becomes clear that these letters span years. There are some from 12 years ago, written shortly after he’d left. Some are more recent. You stare at one, from December of the year he left. Glancing through it, you expect it to unearth your anger, your rage. But it doesn’t. Just like seeing him again, all Yoongi’s letter brings is sadness. Grief.

You’d spent the past 12 years grieving. Sure, he hadn’t died, but when he left, you’d lost the closest relationship you would ever have. In 17 years, you’d grown so accustomed to having him there, that when he was gone, there was a Yoongi-sized hole left in your life that you had to learn to fill. And you did your best, sewing yourself back together and moving on. But it wasn’t the same.

Glancing through his letter, it seems you weren’t the only one struggling. You aren’t sure if that’s a comfort or not.

It’s been almost a year since the night market–one year since everything started crumbling around us. I still remember it like it was yesterday. It felt right in the moment, didn’t it? I really thought you would understand.

I’ve tried to figure out where things went wrong. But shit, I can’t wrap my head around it. Why did you react like that when I told you I just wanted to be free?

At the end of the day, I guess we didn’t understand each other as much as I thought we did. As much as this bond brings us together, I guess it doesn’t reveal everything. But… that night I just wanted to kiss you, and so I did. Maybe it was selfish. Sometimes I wish the bond didn’t exist, that we could just be free to choose things for ourselves. That we weren't forced into what the universe wants from us… Maybe that’s selfish, too.

Why couldn’t you understand? I just wish I could turn back time and make you understand. Maybe then you wouldn’t hate me, and maybe then I’d stop hating myself too.

Because watching you destroy the gem nearly killed me, but it wasn’t half as bad as watching you walk away. Should I have run after you?

Would you still be there if I had?

You sigh and lean back against your couch. That damn night market. You hadn’t been back to it since the year he’d kissed you. It’s silly, but a part of you blames it for everything that happened. Because Yoongi’s letter is right. It had marked the beginning of everything going wrong. It wouldn’t change anything, but there’s a part of you that won’t listen to logic, that refuses to believe that maybe, if he hadn’t kissed you–if you hadn’t kissed him back–he wouldn’t have left.

The night market was beautiful. It always was, but that year was particularly beautiful. The park had been decorated in all of its sparkling, winter glory. Candles twinkled in the trees, suspended by sheer force of will. Through some magic you weren’t familiar with, they’d enchanted the sky, and an aurora shimmered far above, slowly swirling in greens and blues and purples. Snow fell gently, and you weren’t sure if it was natural, or if it was also magic.

You browsed the various tents and tables, going from one to the other to see the different things people were selling. Some had crafts, others baked goods, and some were even selling things like potion ingredients and spellbooks. There were a few tables dedicated to familiars–books on shifting and specialty items and insets and jewelry for bond gems.

Yoongi followed you closely, clutching a hot chocolate. You knew he wasn’t cold, the temperature was nowhere near low enough for either of you to be uncomfortable, but the way his fingers tapped against the paper cup, you knew something was up. You could sense his anxiety, could feel it in the pit of your own stomach.

“Want to go sit?” you asked softly, gesturing over to the picnic tables they’d set up under one of the sparkling trees.

His eyes widened. “No, that’s okay. You’re looking.”

“I’m done. Let’s go sit.”

“I-” He deflated a little and didn’t argue further, allowing you to lead him over to one of the tables.

You sat side by side on the bench, backs against the table, and watched the snow fall around you. The night was peaceful, quiet for the most part except for the occasional laughter that bubbled up. Most of the older crowd had left, leaving only the teens and young adults to explore the market. You watched the other festival goers in silence, Yoongi’s arm pressed against your own.

“You okay?” you asked softly, bumping your shoulder into his own.

Yoongi being quiet was nothing new. He was an observer, a listener, he took in information like a sponge. Which wasn’t to say that he was never loud and boisterous, that he didn’t talk incessantly to the people he cared about. But he was absolutely the calmest presence you’d ever been around, even compared to the adults in your life.

But you could sense what he was feeling, could feel his nerves and unease and conflict. And you knew that he’d rather explode than burden anyone with his feelings. So you prodded. Ever so gently. Because he was your best friend, and when he was suffering, you were too.

He stayed quiet, and when you turned to look at him, he was much closer than you were expecting. A moment passed. You shared a look. You’d always thought that Yoongi’s eyes were pretty, but in the twinkling light of the candles above, they were deep pools of warm, dark cedar and flecks of honey. Slowly, subtly, he leaned in–or maybe you did, you weren’t sure– as though some mysterious force was drawing you together. An emotion flashed in his eyes, but you couldn’t quite take the time to consider what it may have been because he was kissing you. Lips chapped from the bitter wind moulded against your own for the shortest of moments. It was tentative and delicate and brief, but as he pulled away, your mind reeled.

That day had affected you in ways you never would have expected. Before, you’d never considered Yoongi as anything more than your best friend, the platonic other half of yourself. And then the kiss, and suddenly, it was like you’d been awakened. For as long as you could remember, your thoughts had been filled with Yoongi. Of the things he liked, the things he didn’t, of spending time with him, of the academy (with him). Suddenly, you were suspecting that maybe there was more to that, more than just the bond of a witch and their familiar.

You sigh. The letters are all finally back in the box, though nowhere near as nicely as they’d been before you’d kicked it and it had exploded. You should get up. You should go to bed. You have to be up fairly early for the funeral. But you stay seated, the box of letters in your lap.

Seeing him again was hard. You’re willing to admit that. You’d spent 12 years convincing yourself that you were fine, harboring anger and resentment and frustration, all for it to melt away the second you saw him. The bond makes it tough to stay mad at him, but it doesn’t let you forget the betrayal.

You stand out of the way, looking out over the funeral attendees in the park. Your parents didn’t have a lot of friends, but there are enough people here that you’d officially call it a crowd. They’re all mingling–you’d bought beer and wine, and if you didn’t know any better, it could maybe be a party and not a wake. You tighten your fist around the bond gem in your hand. For as long as you could remember, your dad had worn it around his neck, tucked under his shirt. The gem is like your mother–bright pink, fiery orange, deep yellow–and when you were a child, you’d loved to look at it, mesmerized by the swirling, glittering colors.

The gems have always been a gift from a familiar to their witch, given to symbolize the soulmate-like bonds between them. Most witches–especially those who were romantically involved with their familiars–wear them as jewelry. They don’t really do anything, though some people claim it made their magic stronger (you aren’t really sure about that, seeing as most gems appear in childhood).

As a child, you hadn’t been particularly close with your parents. Especially as a teen, you would have much rather hung out with Yoongi than them. But they were kind, and supportive, and for the most part, they left you to do your own thing. They’d been almost as devastated as you when you’d crushed your bond gem.

Days after your fight with Yoongi, the doorbell rang. Your mother had opened the door. You were upstairs. You’d stayed home from school that day–sick, but not in the way the administrators would have accepted. For a few brief moments, you’d ignored whatever visitor was downstairs. But then-

“She’s not here.” Your mother’s voice drifted up to you. She sounded disappointed.

“Please.” It was Yoongi, you’d recognize his baritone from miles away.

Quietly, you’d slipped out of your room and crept down the hall, sitting at the top of the stairs. You could hear your mother sigh, could see her shift her weight from one foot to the other. Your father appeared from the kitchen and joined your mother at the door.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned against the doorknob, pulling it a little more shut in the process so it blocked you completely from the door’s sight.

A long moment of silence passed before your mother called, “Yoongi?” You couldn’t hear his response–he must have already gone down the porch steps. Your mother continued, “It can be scary, and you’re both still young. Give it time.”

The door shut quietly, and both of your parents looked to where you were sitting. You could see it in both of their eyes. Sadness, but something else. Something that looked a little close to pity.

A laugh draws your attention, and you smile sadly as you watch your mother’s coworkers laugh at some memory. But then you notice, just behind them, a shadow close to the ground and suddenly, you’re distracted all over again. Because there, half-hidden by a bush, sits a black cat. Cedar and honey eyes watch you intently, its dark fur swirling and shining like a thousand galaxies. Your hand tightens around your parents’ bond gem, the chain pressing sharply into the flesh of your hand.

He doesn’t move, just sits there patiently. Watching. He’s there as people approach you, offering condolences and hugs that you don’t particularly want; he’s there when people start trickling out. And he’s there when you’re the last one left, all alone under the large oak tree in the center of the park.

It’s quiet as you stand there, staring down at the bond gem in your hands. This is the part you’ve been dreading. Because you don’t want to keep the damn thing–you could if you wanted to, but there’s also tradition to think about. But it’s also weird to give up the one thing that is so emblematic of your parents. You wonder if they’d felt like this when your grandparents had died.

At least they’d had each other during it.

You can sense him approach, even though his steps are completely silent. And though he comes closer, he keeps his distance. On one hand, you appreciate it. On the other…

“If you’re going to be here, the least you could do is be here,” you say quietly, looking down at the gem in your hand. It sparkles a little in the light.

Thankfully, he doesn’t ask you to explain. He takes a few slow steps forward until he’s standing beside you. It’s weird, having him this close again. You’d been too overwhelmed last night to actually observe, but now, you’re exhausted, yet alert.

His hair is longer–as a teen, he’d kept it short, but the ends curl and sit just above his shoulders now. He’s filled out and put on some muscle, and though he’s still a little on the lankier side, his shoulders have broadened. He wears cologne now, the scent light, like lavender, citrus, and sage. So much has changed, and yet it’s the same eyes that watch you with a soft curiosity.

You look up to the tree, watch its branches wave in the wind. You used to think that the centenarian boughs touched the sky, and even still, it towers above everything else in the park. The leaves sparkle, their iridescence catching the light to make the tree look like something out of a fairy tale. You sigh and tighten your fist around your parents’ bond gem one more time before opening your hand.

At first, nothing happens, but then the gem glistens and rises out of your grasp. It joins the other leaves close to the top of the tree, becoming just another sparkle in the prism.

For a while, not even the birds make a noise. You just stand there, looking up at the tree that has stood sentinel over most of your life. The wind rustles the leaves, and they shimmer as they move. You have no idea how many leaves are up there, how many bond gems have been placed over time. Thousands–maybe hundreds of thousands–of witches and their familiars, most forgotten to the annals of time.

It’s strange, knowing that you would never be memorialized by the tree.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Yoongi whispers from beside you, husky baritone cutting through the silence.

Yoongi isn’t sure why you say yes, but soon enough, you’re walking into the Green Bean just behind him. He’s uncomfortable, people have been watching you since the park, and their stares are starting to burn holes in his back. He says nothing about it until you’re in line at the cafe.

“What are they staring at?” he whispers, leaning close so that only you can hear in the semi-busy cafe. He chooses to ignore how you tense up ever so slightly.

“You’ve been gone for 12 years, what did you expect?”

Right. He supposes he should have expected their animosity. But it’s not just him they’re watching. He doesn’t miss the way people stare at you, watch you warily as you simply exist. His mind races. Was that his fault? Did his absence cause so many unintended consequences?

You order a coffee and choose a table in the far corner of the cafe, away from everyone but still near the window. He sits in the chair across from you, the hard metal shockingly comfortable despite its harsh lines. An awkward silence settles over you both, but Yoongi’s not sure what to say, so he lets it linger. He watches you stare out the window. Which is a little weird, right? But he can’t bring himself to drag his gaze away. It’s like after 12 years of being away, he just wants to look at you.

The barista calls out your orders and Yoongi stands to grab both of them from the counter. He places one oversized ceramic mug down in front of you, and the other, he wraps his hands around. It’s warm, almost hot, and he dares not take a drink yet. You stare down at the foam on top of your drink, one finger hooked around the handle of the cup.

“What happened to them?” he asks softly. When you look up, surprised, he clarifies. “Your parents, I mean. I… didn’t hear how they…”

You sigh, tap your mug. He can sense the deep sadness you struggle with and is just about to tell you to forget he asked when you speak. “I always kind of thought it would be dad who’d go first.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “He was always so frail when we were kids. But mom got sick last year and…” You shrug. “One of the neighbors found them.”

“I’m so sorry.” You wave him off. “No. Honestly. They were nice.”

“Thanks.”

He nods, and silence settles again. But then something you said pops into his mind, striking him as strange. “You aren’t living here anymore?” Mentally, he slaps himself. Why did it come out like he’s surprised? He supposes that he’s always just kind of pictured you still… here, in town.

“I’m over in Ashland,” you say, generally gesturing west, toward the city. “I work at the library at the university.”

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows. “How’s that?”

You shrug. “Mostly good. It’s a job. The library’s usually pretty quiet, so…”

“That’s really cool.”

Ashland is big, much bigger than here in square feet and at least 10 times the people. It’s a real city, with skyscrapers and functioning public transportation and one of the country’s top medical universities. He’s proud of you, he realizes. You’d always planned to leave for the city, too constrained by life in such a small town. For the longest time, he’d planned on going with you. And then, of course, he’d ruined it. It stings a little to know that you’d gone without him like that, that your life had continued as planned, that maybe he hadn’t meant that much in the grand scheme of things.

But then your eyes meet, and he’s confronted by the anxiety and sadness you’re feeling, and he knows he’s just being stupid. Again.

“So, uh…” He feels a wave of nerves wash over him–they aren’t his own. You tap your half-empty mug. “What have you been up to?”

If he’s honest, Yoongi wasn’t expecting you to ask about him. He’s shocked enough that you’d even agreed to be here, let alone that you were interested in his life. “I was traveling,” he starts cautiously, gauging your reaction. You blink slowly, watching his every move. If you can sense his apprehension, you don’t react. “But now I’m up north in Ulmae. I’ve got a pretty good thing going at this restaurant on the North Shore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, uh…” He chuckles, a little nervous. “They’ve got me bartending on the weekends and let me do music during the week.”

Your eyes widen a little, and you lean forward. “They let you play?”

“It’s only like an hour a night-”

“No, shut up. That’s amazing!” You grin, big and genuine, but Yoongi can sense a tinge of sadness in it.

He’s disappointed when you both finish your coffees and you stand up to put your cup in the little tub by the counter. It’s starting to get late, the sun is starting to set and the streetlights have turned on. It was nice, catching up with you, short though it may have been. It’s not lost on him how strange it is, having to catch up with someone that was once practically a part of him.

Together, you stand outside in the chilly early evening air, looking down the street toward the park. Over the roofs of the shops and houses, Yoongi can just barely see the centinel tree with its sparkling leaves. People walk past–people he recognizes but couldn’t possibly name–some are more subtle about it, but others practically break their necks to stare at the two of you. Suddenly, Yoongi feels exposed outside the cafe, like there are eyes everywhere. He hates this, hates feeling like he’s doing something wrong just for wanting to talk to you more.

You sigh, scuff your shoe against the concrete of the sidewalk, shove your hands deep into the pockets of your dark jeans. “I… probably shouldn’t even ask,” you start warily. “But do you want to come back for a drink?”

The house is the same, yet somehow also different, like one of those spot the difference puzzles come to life. The layout of the living room is the same, but the couch is a different style and color. There’s a blanket folded the same way under the coffee table, but it’s clearly a different pattern than he remembers. Most of the photos are the same, but there are 12 years’ worth of more of them.

Apparently, the stash of alcohol your father kept in the built in cabinet beside the television hasn’t changed.

You pull out a bottle of whisky and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table with a gentle ‘clink.” The shoebox he’d given you sits on the floor. The lid is off, the letters contained within are a mess. Have you read them, or did they spill out? There’s no way for him to really know.

Silently, you hand him a glass and sit on the other side of the couch, grabbing one of the throw pillows to hug in your lap. You sip at the double in your glass stoically, and for a moment, you stare at him. He has to resist the urge to squirm under your gaze. There’s something different about how you’re sitting, something in your aura that he didn’t notice in the cafe. Maybe you’d been saving it for private, but he can sense that you’re reining your emotions in.

But then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you turn over your hand. Two pieces of paper sit in your palm. “I’m going to need you to explain these.” The two letters float over to him and open themselves in front of him.

The first is dated only a few years after he’d left.

I’ve been struck by a thought. I had tacos earlier, and I just know you would have loved them. Which made me realize that there’s still part of me that thinks about you at every turn. Your friendship was such an integral part of my life, and not having it anymore feels like there’s a piece missing. Last week it was a song on the radio. Before that, a stray cat I saw that I know for certain you would have loved. Everything reminds me of you, everything leads back to you. You’re everywhere and nowhere, and…

I would like to see you again. Someday.

How have you been doing? Where has your life taken you? I can only hope it’s treated you kindly. It’s what you deserve.

The other is from the day he turned 25.

A quarter of a century, and for some reason I feel incredibly old. With it comes some realizations, things I didn’t understand before. Maybe I was too young, too blinded by my own need to feel free… but it never was about being free from you. I can’t even begin to imagine how hurtful it must have been for you…

I never wanted to make you feel like I was giving up on you, like I didn’t want you. I never wanted to make you feel rejected, because it wasn’t you I was trying to be free from.

I was so scared of having my whole life laid out in front of me. I never took the time to think what my life could be with the bond–I only ever thought about what the bond meant for my life. All of the expectations, what comes with being a familiar, our roles in society and the universe…

I realize now that I could have–should have–communicated it all better. If only so that I wouldn’t have lost you. So that it wouldn’t have led to me making you feel like I was rejecting you. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered; at the end of the day I was still walking away from you. But at least maybe I could have made it more clear that it was never you that I wanted to be free from.

I’m sorry. I feel like it’s useless to say, but I am so sorry for not realizing any of this before.

Wherever you are, I hope you’ll understand. Take care until I see you again.

I hope I see you again.

Yoongi sighs. The letters–all of them, not just these two–tended to be rambling diatribes, a snapshot of his thoughts as he worked through his feelings about his own life and everything and you. He’d been an idiot when he left–he was 17 and full of himself and terrified of the world but too proud to admit it–and it had taken him far too long to realize a lot of important things.

For a moment, it’s quiet as he thinks of what to say. How should he even begin? But apparently, he’s quiet for too long, because you wave your hand and the letters fold themselves back up and float back down to the shoebox. When you speak, you sound exhausted. “Why are you here, Yoongi?”

“I-”

“Because if the roles were reversed, I don’t know that I’d have the balls to come back. On one hand, I’m impressed. On the other…” You trail off and shrug.

He’s quiet, not sure how to respond. He’s got lots of thoughts, lots of feelings–of course he does–but right now, you’re a wall, and he’s not sure how to read the situation. He’s not sure what you need to hear right now. So he says nothing.

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it, and you look down at the glass in your hand, stare into the dregs of the amber whisky you’ve nearly finished. “I’m running on like two hours’ sleep,” you admit. “But fuck, Yoongi, I… I was so convinced that I’d never see you again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.” Then, softer. “I’m still not sure.”

“Why?” It’s out of his mouth before he can even think and god, he just wants the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

It takes a second for you to process his absolute trash heap of an asinine question. But when you do, your face contorts into somewhere between anger, disappointment, and heartbreak. “What do you mean, ‘why’?” You practically spit the question at him. “You… you… Do you know what it’s like to have the most important person in your life tell you that he wants rid of you?”

“I never said-”

“You wanted to be free. From all of it. From me.” You pick at the corner of the pillow in your lap. “And then you just come back out of the blue like nothing happened and drop this damn shoebox at my feet-” from where it sits on the floor, the shoebox explodes, letters flying everywhere, “-and you just… What did you expect, Yoongi? What do you want?”

“I don’t know!” He sounds a little desperate when he says it, and he hates that, hates how pathetic it makes him sound. So he shrugs, takes a deep breath, leans back a little. “I don’t know,” he repeats. “I just… I missed you. And then mom told me about your parents, and…” He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead and out of his eyes. “And then I was on a train.”

You stare at him for a moment, a little gobsmacked. You have no idea how to respond. What do you say to that? Where do you even start? There are a hundred things you could say. You’ve played this scenario out a thousand times in your head over the years–what would you do if he came back?–but somehow, it never played out like this. In your mind, he’d never told you that he missed you.

You’d never considered that he would miss you.

But you should say something, right? It’s weird that you’re sitting there, just staring at him in complete silence. Has your jaw been clenched the whole time? Does he think you’re angry with him? Quickly, you school your face into something a little more neutral and say the first thing that comes to mind.

“How long are you here for?”

Truthfully, you probably should have asked sooner. You’ve been wondering since he showed up on your doorstep last night, but it never seemed like a great time to ask.

He sighs. “‘Till tomorrow.”

You nod, probably longer than it makes sense to, but it takes you a bit to process. Tomorrow. He’s back in your life for two days, and then he’s gone again. That’s not even enough time to catch up, let alone actually talk with him. And that’s… you aren’t sure how to feel.

Yoongi watches you quietly and takes a sip of his drink. He’s barely touched it. “Maybe…” he says after a moment, leaning forward to put his glass on the coffee table. “Maybe I should go?”

Part of you wants to tell him no, to ask him to stay, to tell you more about his gig working at the bar. Anything to keep him here and talking to you. But there’s a more logical part of you that’s overwhelmed, that needs some time to think. He’s offering to go, which means that he’s either uncomfortable or his train leaves early in the morning. Or both. He stands, thanks you for the drink, and you follow him to the door. He hesitates just outside, opens his mouth as if to say something and closes it almost as quickly.

You say nothing. And for the second time in as many days, you watch him leave without another word.

The playground was almost empty. Mama said it was supposed to rain, but she’d also said that you would go anyway, for a little bit. You were trying to learn how to swing on your own, and plus Yoongi and his mom were going to be there, and he’d said he’d bring his trucks to play in the sand.

But he wasn’t there yet, so you were on the swing. Mama pushed you, her hand firm on your back, and you closed your eyes. You were flying, wind in your face as you launched forward into the air. And then, just as suddenly, you were falling, swinging backward.

“Remember what I said,” mama said softly. “Kick your legs.”

You weren’t quite sure what she meant by that. Your legs were little, and when you kicked out, you felt more like you were going to slide out of the swing seat than anything. You heard her laugh a little, but her hand was on your back once again, propelling you forward.

A few minutes passed in a blur of forwards and backwards. You still didn’t quite understand the whole swinging on your own thing, but mama’s rhythmic pushes kept you going. But then, a small voice at the edge of the playground yelled your name, and you heard excited footsteps in the wood chips. Mama helped you slow to a stop, and you jumped off the swing.

A little boy, his dark hair cut short by his own mom, ran toward you. He was carrying an armful of small cars and larger trucks. He skidded to a stop in front of you, a wide, gummy grin engulfing his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“I brought all my trucks!” he announced, looking down at the toys in his arms. “You can be the green one. Here.” He tried to hand it to you, and another fell in the process.

You picked it up and took the green truck from him. It was bright green–the same shade as the lime popsicles Yoongi’s mom usually bought–and it had big wheels. You followed him to the sandbox and you both plopped down. It didn’t take long to have a whole city constructed. Granted, it was all made from rocks and wood chips and other small things you found around the sandbox. But it was a city and it was beautiful.

Yoongi drove his truck over a bump, making engine noises as he pushed it toward you. As he drove the truck down another sand hill, bumping and bouncing it over sticks and rocks, something fell out of the sleeve of his jacket. It was perfectly round, and it rolled to a stop in front of you. You picked it up and inspected it. It was some kind of rock, hard and shiny, but it was also colorful, and you were pretty sure rocks couldn’t be blue.

One look at the rock and he frowned, calling for his mom. She came over immediately and crouched down to see what he was so concerned about. Your mama followed her, and she was the one that saw the rock in your hand first.

“Oh,” she said, her hand gently smoothing down your hair. “You two have found your gem.”

“Wha’s that mean?” Yoongi asked, looking up at his mom.

She smiled and sat in the sand beside him, pulling him into her lap. She held out her arm, twisted her bracelet around so that he could see it. “You know how I have this from your dad? It’s like that.”

“But-”

“Your friendship is special,” she continued, pinching his cheek. Yoongi laughed. “It means you’ve gotta look out for each other now.”

For a moment, he was quiet. But then he nodded, just once. “Okay!” He held out his hand to you, tiny palm face up. “Can I have it?”

“It’s not yours anymore,” his mom said softly, brushing his short hair back. “It’s a gift.”

You looked to your mama and she nodded. “Take care of it,” she told you. “You only get one.”

Middle school was the worst. Everything was difficult. Social situations, interactions with your parents, school. At the time, it all seemed like it was unfairly hard. Making it worse, of course, was getting sick. As a kid, you were never sick that often. Yoongi was a different story. For whatever reason, familiars were just more susceptible to illness, and when he got sick, he got sick.

It was the middle of the semester, and Yoongi hadn’t been to school in days. Your teachers hadn’t even asked, they’d just started giving you packets–homework and printouts of their lessons and extra materials–so he wouldn’t fall behind. So you stopped by his house after school. His mom let you in, offering you some of the snacks she was making for Yoongi before you headed up the stairs to his room.

You knocked gently before entering. The knock was a politeness–you were close enough with him and familiar enough with his room at this point in your life that you could just barge in without warning and you knew he wouldn’t mind. He looked like hell, stuck in his bed buried in blankets. It was clear he’d had a fever at some point, because his hair looked damp and sweaty.

But he sat up when you walked in, coughing deeply before speaking. “You’re going to get sick, too,” he protested weakly.

You waved him off. “Everyone’s sick.” You pulled over his desk chair to the side of his bed and started to go through your bag. “Ms. Miller gave me your math homework, but if you understand it, you’ll have to explain it to me because I have no idea what she’s talking about.” He giggled at that, gummy smile soon hidden by his hand as he coughed. “Here’s the novel for Brown’s class. She said she’d talk to you about making up the paper when you’re back.”

It took a surprisingly long time to go through eight classes’ worth of homework and assignments, but you’d put sticky notes at the front of each packet explaining things, too, so the fact that he was half-asleep for most of your explanation didn’t really matter.

“Will you stay?” he asked when you were done. “Help me with some of this?”

“What happened to not wanting me to get sick?” you teased.

“I mean, you don’t have to. If you want to go home, that’s fine, too. I just-” He coughed, burying his face in his blankets.

“You staying for dinner, hon?” Yoongi’s mom called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yes please!” you responded, shuffling through the stack of packets you’d brought for Yoongi. “Wanna take a stab at math?”

Halfway through the fall of your senior year, Yoongi started to get… weird. Cagey. Like he was trying to hide something and figure out particle physics at the same time. You’d tried asking him about it a few times, only for him to wave you off with a quiet “just thinking about some things.” After that, he’d be back to normal for a few days. But every time, like clockwork, he would fall back into it.

Finally, on the third day of the new year, he pulled you aside. Tucked back into the dormant foliage of the park, away from prying eyes, he stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was nervous, you could feel it deep inside you, but to be honest, you didn’t really need your bond to tell you what was plain to see.

“I…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. His brows furrowed in thought, and after a moment, he motioned for you to sit. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay?” You sat on the edge of a big rock, confused.

“I…” he started again, sitting beside you. You could feel a spike of nerves, and he took a breath to steady himself. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I think… fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“You can just say it,” you told him. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘that’s the problem,’ but after a moment, he continued. “I need to be free of all of this.”

“What?”

“Haven’t you ever thought that maybe the universe doesn’t know what it’s talking about? That maybe you’d be happier if you chose things for yourself?” He frowned. “There’s rules for gifts. We’re only good at certain types of magic because of how we were born. We have to celebrate holidays certain ways, we have to do specific things on our birthdays-”

“-and we get told who we’re to bond to.”

He recoiled at your words. “That’s not-”

“But it’s true, right?” Your gaze fell from him to your hands. “It’s just one more thing you don’t get to control.”

Yoongi sighed. “I just… want to be able to choose for myself.”

Suddenly, you were sick to your stomach. This was the last thing you’d expected. You didn’t particularly like all of the traditions, either, but you were 17. What the hell were you going to do about it? But this felt like he was saying he didn’t want you. You hadn’t yet talked about the kiss at the night market a few weeks prior, but you’d never guessed that he’d do such a sudden about-face.

“Right,” you said softly.

“Just… think about it?” he asked, dark eyes pleading.

You didn’t like where this was going, didn’t like how it made you feel. But you nodded anyway. Maybe he would change his mind.

Days gave way to weeks and months, and before you knew it, spring had come. Yoongi hadn’t changed his mind. If anything, he’d gotten more insistent.

“I want to find myself,” he’d told you once. “I need to make sure this is how I want to live my life.”

“I just need to get away,” he’d said one day while you were doing homework together. “Start fresh somewhere new.”

And then, on the way home from school one day, he’d said, “I need to be free of it all.”

And you’d snapped. Three months of hearing him talk about it, three months of him basically saying that your entire way of life was wrong and that he was chafing to get away. You couldn’t help it.

“Fuck off,” you’d told him, taking the trail behind the houses at a faster pace. Despite being so attuned with nature thanks to his familiar genes, he’d had trouble keeping up with you.

He’d pushed. And eventually, you’d given in. Because despite everything, you’d loved him, and if he was unhappy, you wanted to fix that. And now…

Now you’re sitting alone at the train station at ass o’clock in the morning. The train station has just barely opened, and already you’re inside, clutching a cup of coffee. There are a few other people here, milling around, waiting for their early trains to god knows where. You can feel them watching you, can feel them trying to make it subtle that they’re staring. At this point, you’re used to it. Word travels fast in small towns, especially when that word is as earth-shattering as a broken bond gem and a falling out between a witch and their familiar.

You try to ignore them, focus on your coffee and the posters across the waiting area from you.

Report any unattended or suspicious luggage to National Rail personnel.

Bags larger than this poster must be checked into the train’s luggage car.

Please remain seated until your train is announced and National Rail personnel give authorization to enter the platform.

You scroll through the news on your phone. Read the posters again. Stare out the window at the coffee shop across the street. And wait. A train arrives, and the couple that had been staring at you leaves. You sigh and stand to throw out your now empty cup.

Just as you do, the door to the train station opens. You turn to look, and there stands Yoongi. He’s wearing a black shirt, a bag slung across his body. His hair is pushed back off his face and he’s wearing his glasses. He’s clutching an absolutely massive travel mug and his phone in one hand, the other rolls a small suitcase behind him. He looks sleepy, but the second his dark eyes land on you, he jolts a little, as if electrocuted into being awake and alert.

“Hey,” he says cautiously, approaching you.

“Hey.” You wave slightly–awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, still a little gruff from sleep. You get the sense that maybe he hasn’t said much of anything to anyone this morning.

You sigh and gesture for him to follow you to a bench. The next train–his, you presume–isn’t due for another 20 minutes. You have time, but not much.

“I didn’t like how we left things,” you admit. “I… I wasn't sure if you were serious.”

“Serious?” His head falls to the side slightly, confused. But then, it seems, he understands, and he nods. “I did miss you–I do. I spent the entire ride here thinking about how seeing you again was going to go.”

“Were you right?”

He chuckles. “Not exactly.”

You hum and nod, and for the briefest of moments, silence settles over you. The stationmaster types away at his computer, the clacking of the keyboard the only sound in the entire station. But then you force yourself to say something that’s been on your mind since he showed up on your doorstep two days ago.

“It’s been good seeing you again,” you say, and even though you mean it, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “I… think in a way, after so long, I made you the villain in my head. It’s good to see that you’re… not that.”

“I am sorry,” he whispers. “That was the worst thing I have ever done, and I just…”

“I get it.”

“What?”

“I think I kind of always did, but… it just hurt too much to think that you were including me in everything that you wanted to get away from, and I just-”

“You were the last thing I wanted to get away from.” Maybe it’s the waver in his voice, maybe it’s the way he ducks his head to make sure he makes eye contact, but you believe him. He sits his mug down on the bench beside him and gathers your hands in his. “I was so fucking dumb. I would have taken you with me in a heartbeat, but god I was too stupid and selfish to take ten minutes to think.”

“I thought maybe I’d done something,” you admit quietly. “I thought that maybe after the night market-”

“No! Oh my god, no,” he exclaims, his hands tightening around your own. “You’re my best friend! I lo-”

“Train 49–the Northern Limited–will be arriving on the platform in five minutes,” the stationmaster announces, not even bothering to use the building’s intercom. “I’ll take you over to the platform when you’re ready.”

Yoongi groans.

“Here.” You pull your hands away from him and immediately miss the warmth of him. But you reach into your pocket, unlocking your phone and shoving it into his hands in one motion. “Put your number in.”

For a moment, he stares at you, dumbfounded. But then the stationmaster opens the door to his office, and the noise jolts Yoongi into action. He types quickly and hands you your phone. You don’t even look at it, just lock it and shove it into your pocket. He hands you his phone and you enter your own contact information before giving it back.

You stand at the same time, and for one brief, quiet moment, you worry that maybe he’s just going to leave it at that. But then he rubs the back of his neck and glances toward the stationmaster.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

You nod, almost mechanically. You weren’t expecting it to hurt this much to see him leave again. As he turns to gather his things, something comes over you.

“I- Can we-” You sigh, take a deep breath. “Can I have a hug?”

He makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a squeak, and it takes almost no time for the pink to start blossoming on his cheeks. He sputters for a second, and you can feel his shock. But then he opens his arms, and you find yourself taking a small step forward.

It’s shockingly easy to fall back into him, to step into his arms. He’s warm, and solid, but still also somehow soft. His cologne lingers on his clothes, all lavender-y and citrus-y and sage-y. Your arms fit around his waist, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is normal, that nothing ever happened and that he isn’t leaving. But you hear the train horn in the distance and you pull away. You kiss his cheek as you part, and his eyes go wide in shock.

“Text me,” you tell him firmly, reaching down to grab his coffee mug and hand it to him.

“I will. I promise.”

And with one last, fleeting look, he steps onto the elevator with the stationmaster to go over to the platform.

You stand outside the station long after the train departs, feeling very much like you did when he’d left the first time. You should be feeling optimistic–for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s hope. For you, for your friendship, for… whatever comes next. But it’s hard to feel any sort of positive when he’s on a train back to a city seven hours away, and you have to go home in the exact opposite direction in a few short days.

As you’re walking back to your car in the lot down the street, your phone dings. When you unlock it, you get the sudden feeling that you’re flying, like a horde of butterflies have erupted within you. It’s nerves and it’s excitement and maybe, it’s also a little bit of hope.

Yoongi 💙: thanks again for not turning me into a bug

“I’ve been thinking,” Yoongi says one late night, his deep, sleep-deprived voice distorted ever so slightly by the distance and the speakers of your phone. You can barely see him–there’s a dim light that just slightly illuminates his face, but the rest of the room is dark.

“Dangerous,” you joke.

“Rude.” He nuzzles down further into his pillow. “I’d like to come visit,” he admits softly.

For a moment, your mind goes blank. There’s a fluttering in your stomach, hundreds of butterflies trying to escape at once. He’d kept his word after the train station, texting and calling you frequently over the past couple weeks. You’d text throughout the week–little messages about bad days and delicious lunches and cute dogs–and then on the weekends, one of you would inevitably end up calling each other. You’d spend hours on the phone, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in the silence between you.

The video calls were a recent development. Since they began, you’d watched him cook dinner, he’d played piano while you worked on a spreadsheet for work, and one early morning, he’d called you on his way home after bartending so he wouldn’t fall asleep on the train.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little. Maybe it was a little obvious what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.

He groans a little, stretches one arm up before covering his eyes with it. He peeks out at you through the cook in his elbow, one singular, dark eye sparkling, even in the poor quality of the video. “I miss you,” he mumbles, and you almost don’t catch it, it’s so muffled by his arm and your phone’s speaker.

You hum. The butterflies in your stomach make themselves known again. “I guess you could come.”

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Hey now. It’s against the rules to take something like that back.”

He laughs. “What rules?”

“You know. The rules.” You gesture vaguely before pulling your blanket up a little further on your body. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the rules?” He grunts. “Being away for so long has rotted your brain, I’m afraid.”

“So rude.” His arm is still obscuring his face slightly, but you can see his big, gummy smile as he laughs. “No, but seriously. Are you busy next weekend?”

You frown. You’d been trying to forget about next weekend. “Normally I’d go home for the new year,” you say softly.

“Why don’t,” he begins, stifling a yawn. You’re a little surprised he’s made it this long without seeming tired. It’s almost 3am. “Why don’t I come hang out? We can do new year’s stuff together.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.��

“What about work?”

He shifts, the arm that was over his face now supporting his head under his pillow. “I make the schedule. They’ll deal with it.”

“Yoongi.”

He continues on, ignoring you. “I can work the day shift and get a train right after work on Friday, but I wouldn’t get there until late, is that okay?”

You sigh. It would be nice to not spend the holiday alone. And it would be nice to see him again. Sure, you’ve been talking to him in one way or another, but it’s different than having him in person. You finally agree, and he shoots you a smug, sleepy smile.

The week passes at a glacial pace. Work is slow because of the break in classes for the upcoming holiday, and spending time in an empty library is infinitely less entertaining than you’d expect it to be. Most of your coworkers have taken off, so you’re mostly alone with your thoughts. You fill the time with paperwork, completing literature loan requests for the University’s faculty and doing intake for the newly released journals the library has subscriptions for.

In the small handful of weeks since you’d seen him last, you’d replayed things in your mind. But mostly, you’ve been stuck on how nice it is to have him in your life again. You aren’t fooling yourself. You haven’t forgotten. But there’s a part of you–a large part, if you’re honest with yourself–that hopes that this is a step forward, that you can be close again. Maybe not how you were, but something that resembles a friendship.

After an eternity, it’s Friday. You sit outside of the train station in your car, parked in one of the pick up spots just outside of the main door. The trickle of people into and out of the station has slowed significantly now that it’s dark out–you’ve never seen it this dead. It’s late, the station is getting ready to close, but there’s one last train that has yet to come in. There’s another car parked a few spaces to your left, and you wonder briefly about who they’re waiting to pick up, but it’s fleeting.

The door to the station opens automatically, and out steps Yoongi. He rolls a suitcase beside him, a messenger bag slung across his body, his other hand shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. He looks around, confused, his gaze going back and forth between your car and the one to your left. You turn on the dome light and wave and he nods.

He gives you a quick greeting as he opens the back door, shoving his bags in the back seat. When he finally climbs into the passenger seat, he sighs deeply, resting his head against the headrest for a moment before turning to you.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey. How was the train?”

He groans. “Long.”

You hum. He’d worked a short, early shift so he could catch the last train from Ulmae to Ashland. He looks and sounds exhausted. But he’s here. He’s not a face on a screen, he’s in your car. You resist the urge to reach out and touch him. It’s strange. You’d been without him for nearly 13 years. It’s only been a few short weeks since you’d seen him last, but you’re giddy, practically bursting with excitement at the fact that, for the next two and a half days, he’s here. With you.

You drive in relative silence, willing the lights to be green more for Yoongi’s sake than your own. The radio plays a soft hip-hop song, and you vaguely recognize it as one of the bands he’d been obsessed with in high school, but you don’t turn it up. You’re fairly certain that he’s fallen asleep, his head lolled slightly to the side so that he’s facing the window.

It’s a damn miracle that there’s an open spot in front of your building, but you gladly take it. There are people in your building who don’t know how to parallel park—who refuse to do it—but you’d taught yourself just for instances like this. For a moment, you think you’re going to have to wake Yoongi up, but just as you cut the engine, he unbuckles his seat belt and stretches.

Your apartment isn’t large, but it’s bigger than most for what you pay for it. You’re on the seventh floor, the top floor of the building, and your bedroom has a lovely view of the building beside you. But if you lean a little to one side and press your face up against the glass, you can see out into the city beyond, and the university campus in the far distance.

He sits his bags down in your living room and plops down on the couch. You’ve already set out some blankets and a couple pillows for him. The clock on your microwave says 11:05.

“You’re probably exhausted,” you say. “I’ll let you get settled.”

Immediately, he picks his head up from the back cushion of the couch. “’m not tired.” Ever defiant. But you can tell he’s lying. You can see it in his eyes how groggy he is. Normally, he’s up much later than this–you know, because sometimes, he calls you–but between working an early shift and the six-hour train ride, you don’t blame him for being a little sleepy.

“I put some towels out in the bathroom,” you tell him, gesturing down the hall. “It’s the door on the left. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.”

And with that, you leave him there in your living room. You can hear him unzipping his bag as you retreat into your room.

An hour later, you find that you can’t sleep. Not that you’ve even tried. You aren’t even sure why you’re so wired. But you’re sitting in your bed, legs covered by a sheet, in the dim light of your bedside lamp. You’ve had friends stay over before. But this… you feel like you did as a kid, having your first sleepover. Except back then you were wired on soda and sugary snacks and it was a treat to stay up late. Now, you’re just…

You hear the bathroom door open and shut, and after a moment, Yoongi stands in the doorway to your room.

“You have the softest towels in the world,” he says, hair hanging in damp strands in front of his eyes. He pats and scrunches it dry with one of the fluffy grey towels you’d set out for him.

“Would you believe I got them on clearance?”

“I’ll just have to stuff one in my bag, then.”

“I charge a 5% fee for any towels that leave the premises.”

At that, he laughs, a groggy, squeaky sound that shakes his shoulders and crinkles his eyes and leaves a wide, gummy smile in its wake.

“So… what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“I haven’t really thought about it.” He shoots you a look that says he doesn’t believe you, and you relent. “Well,” you pat the bed beside you, inviting him to sit, “There’s this thing every year in the park to watch the meteors,” you say as Yoongi eases himself onto the mattress. “But it doesn’t start until late.” He hums. “Was there something you wanted to do?”

“No, just-” He stifles a yawn. “Curious.” He leans back against the headboard, settling in.

Just like that, you fall easily into conversation. It’s comfortable, calm. Just two old friends chatting. He likes your apartment, thinks the tile in your bathroom is really nice. He asks about your job, nods along as you tell him about working in the library and your coworkers.

And slowly, his reactions become slower, delayed, until he finally doesn’t respond at all. You look over, and his chin is tucked against his chest, his breathing gentle. Asleep.

For a moment, you consider going out to the couch. It would be weird, right, to stay here with him? But as you’re about to kick the blanket off, you pause.

We’re adults. Adults can share a bed. It doesn’t have to mean anything. You’re mature enough to let this just be two people sleeping in the same space.

At least, you think you are.

But as you settle in yourself, snuggling down into your blankets and turning off the light, you’re suddenly faced with the quiet peacefulness of his face. He’d always been handsome, and now that you’re both older, you can appreciate just how beautiful he really is. He sighs and slides down a little, his hand brushing against your arm as he gets more comfortable.

Oh no.

You sit on the floor of your living room, a box of pizza on the coffee table that you’ve shoved out of the way. Yoongi’s beside you, your backs against the couch as you watch some anime he’d been trying to convince you to watch back in high school. You’re three episodes in, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t really care for the basketball-themed show. Part of you is still afraid that if you say something wrong, he’ll be gone again.

His arm rests casually behind you on the cushions, far enough away that it’s more a comfortable way to sit than any sort of advance, but that doesn’t stop the smallest of butterflies from making itself known in your stomach. This Yoongi is so different from the Yoongi you knew—the one who, as a kid, got excited by construction equipment and the concept of ice cream, and as a teen spent his free time hiding from his parents, playing the piano and hanging out with you (though neither were mutually exclusive). He’s quiet, comfortable in the silence, comfortable with letting things linger.

You’re a little jealous of it, to be honest.

Yoongi leans forward slightly, and a piece of pizza meets him halfway, floating gently into his grasp. “Do you remember,” he begins, settling back in against the couch, “when we were 16 and we went camping?” You hum an affirmative. “We spent most of the week playing old board games with my parents.”

You smile at the memory. If anyone had asked back then, you would have told them it was lame that you’d had to spend the whole time with Yoongi’s parents. But now? That was one of the more fun summers you’d ever had. “What made you think of that?”

He shrugs, mouth full of pizza. “I dunno. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. Things were so much simpler then…”

You nod and hum softly, but ultimately, you say nothing. Much simpler indeed.

“You know,” Yoongi begins, zipping his coat up to his chin, “when you said ‘park’, I was kind of expecting it to be in the city.”

“I think technically it is.” You lock your car and meet him at the front of it.

“We drove for an hour!”

You shrug. “Big city.”

He laughs and shakes his head, incredulous. He can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, but there was a sign on the way in with the university logo on it, so he supposes that whether it’s part of the city or not, it doesn’t really matter. There’s a well-lit trail that runs from the shale parking lot up a hill slightly to a clearing that overlooks the city and the rest of the park. It’s busy–people mill about around the parking lot, and he can see a steady stream of visitors on the trail up to the clearing.

He adjusts his coat–it’s cold, and both his shoulder and his senses ache with the impending snow–and when he’s ready, the two of you start walking toward the trail. It’s astonishingly busy, and as you weave your way through the crowd, leading him up the hill, he grabs your hand.

So we don’t get separated, he tells himself. For a moment, he expects you to pull away. Not maliciously, he’s not expecting you to scoff and throw his hand away. But what he isn’t expecting is for you to tighten your grip on him and tug him this way and that as you get closer to the clearing. His hand is warm where your skin touches his, like he’s holding a candle a little too close to the flame.

The clearing is massive, mostly flat but not entirely, with gentle rolling slopes that provide some extra elevation here and there. On one of the little hills, a few food trucks are set up, though how they got there, Yoongi isn’t really sure. Someone must have magicked them through the path or up the hill or something. There are picnic tables scattered around, mostly near the food trucks, but throughout the clearing, as well. Towards the edge of the clearing, there’s a cliff with an overlook that has a spectacular view of the city vista below. People are everywhere. Of course, there are a lot of college-aged kids hanging out in big and small groups. But there’s also a shocking amount of people that are Yoongi’s age and older–professors, he assumes, and university staff here to enjoy the evening. Almost all of them are holding drinks, and just about every one of them seems to be paired with someone.

It’s subtle sometimes, seeing bonded witches and familiars. Of course, the ones who are romantically involved tend to be more obvious, but the ones that are just friends are just as easy to spot once you know what to look for. It’s the people who stand so close together they’re almost touching, the ones who lean in a little extra close to whisper something. And the clearing is full of pairs standing in each other’s personal spaces.

You tug on his hand to direct him off to the left and he blindly follows, squeezing your fingers ever so gently as a response.

There’s a pair of people at one of the tables by the food trucks. They spot you almost immediately, and one of them stands to greet you. He’s a little taller than you are, made even more obvious when he gives you an awkward, one-armed hug over the picnic table’s bench. The other one–a woman–remains seated, eyeing Yoongi.

For a hot minute, it’s weird, as he stands there in silence while you chat with the man and woman. It’s not even the side-eye that the woman’s shooting him. The man is handsome–Yoongi’s not blind–and you are friendly with him. But there’s a moment, the briefest of moments, where you gesture somewhere off to your left. And when your body moves, Yoongi’s arm moves, too, and a little part of him, a silly, childish, hopeful part, soars.

You’re still holding his hand.

Eventually, you introduce him to the two. Alice works the reference desk in your library while she’s doing a doctorate program in linguistics. Her partner is gone in the winter, fighting fires in the far south. Despite her harsh side-eye, she greets Yoongi with a smile and a polite handshake. Jihwan, on the other hand, is the head baseball coach at the university. How the two of you met, Yoongi can only guess, but you make no mention of Jihwan’s partner, and Yoongi doesn’t see a gem anywhere. He almost–almost–starts to feel bad for the guy, but then he opens his mouth.

You ask a simple question, gesturing with your head to the food trucks. “What do they have good?”

“The pierogi guy from last year is back-”

Jihwan interrupts Alice. “Too much butter.”

It’s not even what he says. It’s how he says it. Like you and Alice are toddlers, like you can’t be trusted not to drown yourselves in carbs. But you roll your eyes and Alice scoffs playfully, and Yoongi realizes that this is not the first time Jihwan has done something like this. And suddenly, Yoongi hates this guy.

“Apparently, he’s got a new flavor this year,” Alice says, continuing like Jihwan never interrupted. “But the taco guy is also back-”

“Is the popcorn guy back?” you ask. laughing. “Because I kind of want a front-row seat to that.” Yoongi must look confused, because you explain. “Pierogi guy’s daughter was engaged to taco guy’s daughter. But last year, pierogi guy and taco guy just started yelling at each other-”

“-It was amazing,” Alice adds.

“It was ridiculous,” Jihwan mumbles.

You push him. “It was a little like having our own little telenovela here.”

Cautiously, Yoongi asks, “Why were they fighting?”

“No one knows.” You shrug. “But it launched a campus-wide food war. Everyone was choosing sides. It was like the year the Moondance tried to change its logo.”

Jihwan and Alice look at you, a little confused. But Yoongi knows exactly what you’re talking about. Somewhere around when you were preteens, the owners of the Moondance diner decided that its logo was outdated and wanted to update it. The whole town had been in an uproar, whole neighborhoods entering into a Cold War-esque stand-off over their preferences. People who had been friends for 50 years were suddenly in an unsolvable, unending argument. All over a color palette swap and a slightly newer font. Yoongi hadn’t cared much one way or the other–all businesses change their logos at some point, right?–and he always suspected that you didn’t either, but you’d both gotten swept up in the chaos of it all. It was stupid, ridiculous fun, and he’s pretty sure that his parents still have the buttons you’d made somewhere in their house.

You finally let go of Yoongi’s hand when you’re standing in line at the taco truck, and he’s painfully aware of how empty it feels now. You don’t go far, though, standing close enough that your elbow brushes against his every once in a while. You’re scrolling through your phone, reading some news article to pass the time. It’s gotten darker since you’ve been there, and looking up, he can just barely make out a couple pinpricks of stars in the sky. The clearing is fairly bright, with little flickering balls of light criss-crossing the space like bistro lighting, and the lights from the city below don’t help to make the night sky visible.

You pay for his tacos–”I get an employee discount,” you say, brandishing your university id like it’s a black card–and Yoongi doesn’t think that you were in line that long, but when you return to the table, Alice and Jihwan are gone.

“Where’d-” He’s not even asked the question, but you’re already shrugging.

“Alice’s probably off calling her fiance,” you say it like you’re back in high school, all singsong-y and mockingly, “and who knows where Jihwan got to. Probably trying to take someone home tonight.”

“He seems…”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“How’d you meet him?”

A pang of… something hits him. Your expression falls, ever so slightly, and he regrets asking. But after a brief moment, you clear your throat. “He and I are the only two on campus without gems.”

Oh.

Well.

That makes sense.

“So they…”

You pick a piece of red cabbage off your taco and eat it. “Yeah, they know.”

Which explains Alice’s side-eye earlier. The weird emotion he’d gotten from you is gone now, and you seem to have just brushed right past the awkward feelings.

He hums, not really sure what to say. What’s there to say? So instead of saying anything dumb, he does the safe thing. He changes the subject.

“No wonder they didn’t kick the taco guy out of the festival this year.” He takes another bite of his taco. “This is the best al pastor I’ve ever had.”

“His chimichangas are amazing, but he only makes them on special days.”

“More special than…?” He gestures vaguely. Around you, the lights have started to dim. Yoongi isn’t really sure when that started, but things are definitely less bright.

You laugh, and something inside of him warms.

He hasn’t even finished his tacos yet, but the vibe in the clearing starts to dramatically change. The crowd gathers tighter, a palpable buzz in the air. Alice has returned and stands alone near the head of the table. She’s looking up at the sky, and when Yoongi looks up, he sees why. There’s an aurora in the sky, gentle waves of effervescent greens and blues swirling through the heavens, just like the night market all those years ago. It has to be magic of some sort–the city isn’t far enough north for it to be natural–but he can’t tell who’s doing it.

A hand on his shoulder pulls his focus back to the ground. You’re there behind him, bathed in the dim glow of the floating lights around you. By now, it’s almost dark, but even in the low light and deep shadows, you’re beautiful.

“Come on,” you say softly. “Let’s get a good spot closer to the lookout.”

He follows you through the crowd, weaving around the bodies to get closer to the edge of the clearing. It’s tight, and you grab his hand so you don’t get separated. Normally, Yoongi isn’t a huge fan of crowds like this. You’re a small island in a sea of people, and he barely has room to turn in a circle without bumping into someone. You stand close–close enough that he can feel your warmth through the chill of the night.

The city spans the valley below, a forest of metal and windows and concrete. A bright spot in the middle of an otherwise dark night. But then, individually at first and then more, the buildings’ lights begin to flicker out.

“They’ve been doing this festival since before the city got public electricity,” you explain, answering his question before he could even ask. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

With the lights of the city mostly out, the stars above are much brighter. He can almost see them twinkling and winking as they burn, millions of billions of lightyears away. The night sky is beautiful, and his eyes drift around to locate the constellations he’d learned as a child. Almost immediately, he finds Perseus, right beside his wife Andromeda. You’d loved the myth of Perseus slaying Medusa when you were kids, and even though he hadn’t looked for the constellation in over a decade, finding it is still ingrained in him.

He nudges you slightly, pointing up to the constellation. But just as he does, a pinprick of light streaks across the sky. You squeeze his hand as more streaks start to appear and the gathered crowd buzzes with ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. The meteors are all sizes. Big and bright. Small and thin. They aren’t constant, only a few show up every minute, but it’s beautiful to watch.

There’s a strange sensation growing in his chest, something warm and fluttering and all-encompassing. You lean a little closer and the feeling grows. You must sense something–he’s never really been sure what his emotions feel like for you–because you look up at him. For a moment, you look confused.

Yoongi isn’t really sure how it happens, but what he does know is that suddenly, your face is centimeters from his own. He thinks that maybe someone bumped you and you took a step closer, but maybe that’s just his brain trying to fill in the gaps. He also knows that he’s the one that closes the space between you, leans in and brushes his lips against yours. It’s quick, a little impulsive, and truthfully, it feels a little forbidden.

He pulls away, not far enough to make it seem like he’s made a mistake, but enough that it gives you an out, if you want it. His brain starts making all these calculations–what he should do if you back away, what he should do if you slap him, what if you don’t react.

But then you whisper, “Why’d you stop?” and your hand slides up his chest to grip the lapel of his coat. You tug with a surprising amount of force, and when your lips connect, he feels himself soaring.

His entire world narrows to the points where your bodies connect. The firm touch of your knuckles against his shirt, the way your leg presses against his, but mostly the heat from your lips as he deepens the kiss. You fit against him perfectly, as if you were made for each other. He’d only kissed you that one time, but somehow, he’d missed it, missed you.

When you finally pull away, you stay close, pressed against his chest–though whether that’s fully your choice or because of the crowd tightening around you is anyone’s guess. He can feel your heart pounding, and when you shoot him a small smirk, he’s pretty sure that you can feel the pace of his own pulse. Your grip loosens on the collar of his coat and you smooth it down coolly before your arm wraps around his back. Without a word, you cozy in, pressed close as your gaze returns to the sky and to the stars.

For a moment, he stands there, unmoving, mind empty. But then it’s like he snaps out of a trance, and he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. His focus shifts to the shooting stars above, catching one just as it streaks across the sky. As he stands there, staring at the heavens and feeling your steady breathing, his mind begins to wander.

12 years, 7 months, and 3 days. He’d spent most of that time wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t left. If, after he’d kissed you at the night market, he’d been satisfied with whatever life had come after that. He’d been so scared back then, of losing control, of his life not being his own. But now, none of that matters.

Now, he’d give up almost anything to stay here, in this moment, in your arms.

okay so like... what do we think? how are we feeling? I was originally planning on having this be much longer, but I was so stressed out from grad school, I just wanted to get it out now. I'm so excited to hear your thoughts! and let me know if you want to see a part 2 (and if so, what you might want to see in it!!)

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #suga fic #suga fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #myg x reader #bts soulmate au #bts supernatural au #set me free

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ladyartemesia · 1 year ago

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PART I: BARE YOUR SOUL

PART II: BARE YOUR HEART

ROOMMATE AU/SOULMATE AU

I finally figured out my titles! Thank you to all who helped me brainstorm and a big shout out to @sumzysworld for the winning suggestion. You guys are the best. This fic has fully taken on a mind of its own. I really can’t wait to share it with you all! I even made a banner! It’s a lot more understated than my usual style, but it really fits the tone of the fic and I’m very happy with it!

coming soon…

READ A TINY TEASER HERE

AND HERE

#I made a banner #yay #naked yoongi soulmate fic #the naked soulmate dualogy #min yoongi #min yoongi fic #yoongi fic #reader insert #bts #bts yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi imagine #suga #bts suga #suga x reader #yoongi x reader

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daichiduskdrop · 1 year ago

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˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 06

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: Slight implications of rape

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie

Words: 3512

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Pulling you closer to his body the pack alpha started to calmy walk towards the underground parking lot exit. Hearing the locking sound of the door he didn't bother to turn around, instead focusing on you fully.

Your eyes were pretty much completely closed, only fluttering from time to time. With the light too harsh on them you let a soft whine leave you, and grabbed closer on Namjoons t-shirt, burrowing your face in the crook of his neck once again.

„It's okay babypup, just rest for some more now.” He said, his voice calming to your ears, further settling you down. As an omega it was very normal for you to sleep more than any different second genders do. Used to resting for over 11 hours a day you were always sleepy.

While you enjoyed being able to fall asleep so quickly in many scenario's, it was also greatly inconvenient in others. Whenever you had to pull an all-nighter for the final exams at school it was very annoying.

You didn't really like the taste of coffee, plus pretty much any caffeine or even theine was just a terrible thing to drink for any omegas. A light fruit tea was okay, since it doesn't include any of the actual theine, but anything bit stronger like a pure matcha tea could be bit problematic sometimes.

You didn't always struggle with the different foods and drinks that could potentionally be harmful for you, but from time to time you really didn't check what was included out of laziness and ended up terribly sick. It was just a curse that came with your second gender.

You were used to having long hours at school, getting up to be there by 8 and leaving some time during the afternoon, sometimes you had to stay behind to finish your work up. So if you were still really sleepy in the morning, it was quite normal for you to eat something to replenish your energy at least slightly.

The university you went to wasn't very quiet since all second genders were allowed to study in it, so you weren't really able to relax there most of the time.

You loved the school in a way but it also brought great troubles for you. Whenever you told anyone about the school you frequently visited, they usually looked down at you from then on.

You of course understood very well that art is less important to people and humanity than doctors and nurses, lawyers or even teachers, but there was just something about it that always called for your name since you were young.

You used to draw for fun when you were small, while you were still a part of your old pack. Your family supported you when you were still young, but as you got older and your relationship with art didn't fade they would start to get more upset.

Yea, you were an omega which often had hard times getting into more serious industries like education and health services, management or even office and administrave support. For those a lot of the time only betas and sometimes even only alphas were allowed to work at.

So with only a few different options for your future, you decided to pursue your early dreams even when it brough a great disappointment for your pack.

It was quite welcomed to have omegas not work at all in the more traditional packs, and if you were in a modern one it was often that the omegas worked as librarians or maybe personal shoppers too if they didn't mind the crowds and loudness the malls often carried. It was usual to work as a babysitter too.

If you were an omega that wanted to work these were the well welcomed options, easy to maintain and keep track of, so the pack always knew about theirs omegas well-being.

Even if the pack was very modern thinking regarding the set rules, there was absolutely no way any alpha in their right mind would allow their pack's omega out of sight and not know about their plans and whereabouts.

Some people were just dangerous, and so letting your omega go somewhere on their own, even if they wanted to do so very badly was a very risky act noone wanted to fully admit to.

It was often times other alphas that brought the biggest dangers, usually after being rejected by the lowest second genders that didn't accept their packbound.

Feeling sour they just start to hate them more and more and if any omega comes in sight without being protected by their pack it happens sometimes that they let their anger out. Doesn't matter which is the way for them to do it.

For such reasons it's more than normal for anyone of the pack to be with their omega most of the time. You are going to try on that dress now? Okay, I will wait next to the changing rooms. You want to refill your cup? Here, I'll do it for you, you just wait with the others.

With how rare it is for omegas to fully accept a forming bond and become a part of it, the packs are more than ready to cherish them like the finest gems.

Namjoon too was very keen and felt a deep satisfaction in keeping you close around. His pack was a more modern one with how there were no betas around, but suddenly, he felt very on edge with all the different people passing by.

Holding the doors open with his foot, he waited for the rest of his pack to go through before he closed it. One palm over your head he held it close and snuggled up against his scent gland.

He realised how you needed any rest you could finally get. With how unscented you were, even before arriving to their home, he knew there was most likely noone in your life to properly have you as a part of a pack.

So it was only natural for you to feel the need to rest even more than usual, after being able to let go of any worries and let your guard down for once.

They were more than ready to do that for you, keeping you well and safe at all costs. His whole pack was very important to him and came first under any scenarios, but now that they had you they were interested in, you were quick to become one of the highest priorities for each of the alphas.

It was very normal for omegas or even betas to take liking to a new pack they just discovered, getting attached quickly and easily.

So if both of the parties were interested, there was no harm in slight rushing. It wasn't considered that in the modern society, absolutely typical and usual since it happened oh so very often.

Stepping up the few stairs that led to the mall entrance, the pack walked close together. Their steps rang out in the quiet concrete corridors, the piping on the ceiling left uncovered. A few graffiti tags were here and there but the light was bright and there was noone around, so there wasn't anything to worry about.

Entering already inside of the roudy building, Namjoon slowly lowered you to the tiled floors. Your eyes opened up again, but it wasn't long until you were once again reaching for his neck, your small fingers latching on the t-shirt he had under the dark coat.

„It's okay, princess. You can sleep more later, yeah? Let's get some food in your stomach. What would you like to have? There is a big food court on the second floor; should we go look?” Jimin was quick to step in; he could notice how the pack alpha's facade was going down and how his eyes went soft again.

They would never mind carrying you, in public or not; it was very normal to do so with omegas, but since you weren't necessarily theirs yet, they didn't want to cross any boundaries you had.

With how sleepy you still were, they didn't want you to feel embarrassed later on. And so to avoid having that happen, Taehyung and Jin both took one of your palms in theirs and started leading you towards the escalators.

You didn't come to this mall often—pretty much never at all. It was quite far from your home and was in a more noisy area since it was usual for tourists to come in here.

Still, the alphas led you with ease, with Jimin at the front and Namjoon walking behind you, keeping everyone in sight. Walking alongside a big grocery store, a café, and a stationary shop, you felt many scents that were new to you.

Reminding yourself, you remember the thing that got you into this place at first: the medication prescription you didn't get. Looking up at Jin's face, you thought about asking them for help at that moment, but with how much distress you must have caused them already, you just decided to let it be for now.

The eldest went first on the lifting stairs, pulling you behind him and stepping to the left. You stayed on the step after him, and with Tae doing the same, the three of you were left in a small row.

The hanging banners above you were advertising new burgers, a makeup collaboration with an idol, and a new clothing collection in one of the many boutiques in this mall.

After you all piled out from the stairs, you walked towards the big food court right in front of you. There were many sitting spots; some were kept in enclosed booths, and other small tables were left in the open. Some of them were left occupied by customers, but most of them were still empty.

There was a big selection of different fast foods and restaurants you could get your food from, many of whose names you didn't recognise. There was a big McDonald's that you, of course, were familiar with, but the other restaurants like Shake Shack or Cushara were ones you never really heard of.

Letting yourself be tagged along, you allowed Jimin to select an enclosed booth that had dark maroon sofa-like seats. The space was definitely large enough for the whole pack to fit in, so the alpha chose well.

Jin sat down first, followed closely by you and Tae. Namjoon, looking at the different options, turned away slightly from you. You noticed Jimin typing on his phone; he was leaning against the side of the short, built-up walls. He looked up when the pack alpha eventually turned back towards all of you, though.

„What would you guys like to get? I'm thinking Panda Express might be a good choice, but we can go for something else if you want to. What would you like to have for lunch cub?" Looking at you, he watched your face, noting the small facial expression changes.

„Yoongi just texted me that they are on the bottom floor, so they should be here in a minute or so.” Jimin mumbled, his eyes glued back to the screen as he typed again.

„Alright, let's wait for what they want to order then.” Answered Namjoon once again before he slid into the seat next to Jin. On the booth table, there was laminated paper that had a list of the most popular foods from each dining place available at the spot. Picking it up, Tae held it up so you could see too.

„Let's look together, babycheeks. Here, they even have an omega-safe food list; that's really clever. Let's see..” Reading over the list closely, the man looked for the foods with the small label next to the names, marking them as fully safe because they were mild in spices, not too high in sugar, and usually not fried either.

Leaning in to look yourself, you hesitantly pointed towards the 'orange chicken' listed next to the small panda express label. You never had it but since you were a big tangerine lover, you felt like it could be quite tasty.

„Could I get that please?“ You mumbled, looking up at Taehyung's face for a bare second. Sitting up slightly, he went over the contents of the meal.

„I'm not sure babycheeks. How about we get you something else instead. Do you want chicken and rice? Here, there is a 'grilled teriyaki chicken' listed, does that sound good, sweet baby? We can get you some rice with it too; the brown steamed rice here is extra tasty.”

Lightly trying to steer you towards a different decision, you looked back at the menu, and he was right. Next to the options he just told you about was the tiny symbol you had to look for constantly.

„But I wanted the orange chicken, please,” you said, looking into Taehyung's eyes. He couldn't bring himself to hold your gaze for much longer. He could feel his heart practically break with how he had to tell you no, even after you asked so nicely.

He was proud of you for telling him what you wanted, even if it was a simple meal from a restaurant. He knew more than well how that could be so tricky sometimes.

„Baby I know, but it could really be bad for your tummy. I don't want you to get sick. Come here, let's look at the other options together.” His voice was softer than usual, and even when he spoke with a deep tone, he always tried to soften it up for your ears.

With one of his arms going around your left, he lightly pulled you closer to him so your thighs were touching. Leaving his palm at your shoulder, he occasionally rubbed your shoulder blade in small circles.

When you could smell the light scent of rain and the forest's smell of citrus and flowers, you looked up almost immediately. The three alphas were walking around the tables, careful not to bump into anyone or anything as they walked in your direction.

You were glad to see them after a few hours of their absence, so you were quick to climb out of the booth before you took the few last steps in their direction. Jungkook walked first, and that meant he was the first to have his hands on you, pulling you to his chest.

Breathing in the soft aroma he brought, you smiled lightly, feeling content. With how dependable omegas often get, it was more than healthy for you to be around the whole pack at once.

„Did you miss me, baby? I missed you lots and lots.” The man mumbled lightly, his face hidden behind the face mask. Lightly patting the back of your head, he wanted to hold you for longer, but unfortunately, the situation wasn't ideal.

„Yah, Kook-ah, let me have her for a minute too. Stop hogging her up!” Hobi's voice was loud, just as it usually is. Pulling away from you slightly, before the other alpha had time to react, you were quickly snatched away. It wasn't Hoseok who took you; it was Yoongi.

Sneaking around the other table, he didn't bother to wait for you. Instead, the alpha didn't waste any time before his arms pulled you to his chest once more. Lightly rubbing his chin over the top of your head, he felt content with you around.

„My kitty. How are you? Did you have a nice time at the shops? Should we go buy some more stuff later?” Feeling shy, you let him pull away to watch your face.

„Yea, Tae and Jimin bought me a lot of stuff. I'm very thankful.” You whispered softly, still feeling a bit overwhelmed with how quick they were to spend so much money on you. They didn't hesitate.

„..That's good, that's really good, I still think-” Cutting his elder with no problems, Hobi snaked his arms around your waist, also hugging you. You looked up at his face and were greeted by the biggest smile ever.

„Little cub, I'm so glad to see you. You looked so nice in the clothes. Here, sunshine, let's go eat now, yea?” Pulling at your hand, he let you take a seat before he himself sat down. This time, you had Jungkook and Hobi keeping you company.

With the other pack members greeting themselves, Namjoon didn't waste much time before he handed them the menu. Most of them were getting ramen noodles and settled on sharing theirs with you.

You were getting the grilled teriyaki chicken Taehyung recommended, but you really didn't feel like getting brown rice, so you stuck with the usual white one.

Standing up, most of the alphas left to go order and pay for the food, but when you tried to stand up, you were quick to be pulled back to your seat by the youngest.

„No babybun, stay here with me for now. Tell me about today, hm?” It was very easy for the whole pack to finally allow their second gender to fully control them and take over. There was just something so deeply satisfying for them about having you to constantly care for and having someone fully depend on them for once.

It was a breath of fresh air; they didn't even realise how much they had actually pushed off their wants the whole time before you came about.

BigHit did offer the chance of hired packomegas, which were usually there for the ruts the alphas went through twice a year. They never worked well for the pack, though; oftentimes they tended to get along great with one but argue so much with the other. So after their earlier years, which arrived after their fresh debut, they just stopped letting the company look for packomegas completely.

„But the food? There is a lot; I should help." Your voice was worried as you looked in the direction they left.

„Babybun, it's alright really. They can do it well, okay? Just stay with me right now. Tell me about where you guys went?” Jungkook knew that they were more than capable of carrying all the foods and was just the slightest bit worried about you spilling something; the possibility of you getting burnt just didn't sit well with him.

„Okay.. if you are sure.. We went to Dior; I tried on a bunch of stuff too." You murmured, finally looking at Jungkook. His eyes were wide and bright, fully set on your form.

Talking about the trip you took with the packmates, you skipped over the whole buying ordeal; you didn't feel like worrying the youngest alpha too.

„What were you doing?” You hesitated to ask, still very shy around them. You could see how he smiled widely at your question. He couldn't help himself though; you were just too cute.

„I was at the studio; I was finishing up my part of the song with Yoongi, and Hobi was there to work on a part of one dance. We had some stuff to sign, too. It's very boring stuff, my baby; don't worry about it, okay?”

Only nodding lightly, you looked at your lap. You could hear him lightly giggle next to you; the laugh was airy and sweet. Cooing at you, he brushed your cheek softly, making you look back at him.

„How about you tell me more about yourself now? What about your pack?”

It was sudden, you could feel dread start to consume you, and from the bottom of your toes, you felt your muscles tighten. Gulping, you looked away.

You didn't have a nice past; with how your pack abandoned you, it was easy to know so. Usually left alone, you lived a very sad life. Still, sometimes you feel joy come from small things. Those moments did help from time to time.

Even if you tried to cover up the sudden change of mood, the alpha was quick to notice. It was one of his second gender's charms—the ability to quickly notice any atmosphere changes.

Moving quickly, his warm hands went around your shoulders before he pulled you closer, your tights touching.

„Baby, it's okay; we don't have to do that if you don't want to talk yet. It's alright, babybun, don't worry, yeah?" His eyes were desperately looking for yours, but with no success. Tears sprung up suddenly too, furthering the sudden despair he felt.

Desperate to make you feel better, to calm you back down. You were doing so well today, and he didn't want it to go wrong for you so suddenly.

When the first tear fell and he could start to really smell the sadness in your naturally soft and sweet aroma, he knew something was seriously wrong.

He didn't waste any more time before he pulled you to his chest, fully squishing you against him. Your soft sobs followed soon too, only furthering his worry. In the corner of his eye, he could see all of his packmates coming back towards him, their pace urgent.

„Sh,sh, shh, babybun, don't cry; it will be okay. We are here now, cub. Come here, and let me hold you for now. You'll be okay.” Lightly hiccuping, you let the alpha sway you from side to side slowly, his scent worried and heavy.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

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forever-once-gone · 6 months ago

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Day 3: Yoongi - You Meet Your Fated at a Coffee Shop <3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (lol)

Word count: 3.7k (can't keep them short for the life of me)

Content and Warnings: soulmate au, coffee shop au, gn!reader, sharing preferences, arguing, frustration, they're both a bit dense lol, but other than that nothing too terrible in this, just sweet honestly, almost throwing up, coffee snob!Yoongi, barista!Yoongi, mocha slander, terms of endearment: baby, dear, Y/n is ready to FIGHT

Author's Note: Hey! So like I know it is well past Feb, but tbh it was crazy of me to even think id have time to publish these things during midterms season. Even though I had reading week, it was just not going to happen. Even though I did manage to write some of the days, I obviously couldn't every day. And posting? Forget about it. Anyway, even if it's past Feb, would you want me to post the ones I did write? It won't be instantaneous, but I would like to share what I did write, and maybe even finish all the other days as I had already planned out what I wanted to write each day. Let me know if you're interested! Anyways, as always, enjoy! <3

Another mocha, just another mocha to fill up in the takeaway cup for another person who is trying to get through the February cold. Yoongi gets a lot of mocha requests before the winter holidays season. When so many are hyped up with Christmas cheer. Even people who do not celebrate Christmas tend to indulge in peppermint mochas when the snow hits the ground. And the trend trickled into the post holiday months every winter season. To the point when people ordered mochas even into early spring.

Yoongi, ever the coffee enthusiast, hated having to make so many mochas.

Frankly, he considered mochas just snobby chocolate milk with the smallest hint of caffeine. Like do mochas even deserve to be considered coffee-based beverages? He thought not. You could barely even taste the coffee in between the thick, tongue-coating taste of chocolate and the heaviness of way too much milk.

Everytime he had to make mochas, every single time, he’d be cursing in his head about how he would rather just be able to make his espressos, black coffees, and iced americanos. Iced americanos are the most he’d be willing to go when it comes to diffusing the taste of coffee.

Adding milk? Forget it.

Adding sugar? He’d rather just pour it down the drain than drink it.

Alas, when it comes to his job, he has to fulfill the customer’s wishes. No matter how much he hated the sugary, barely-even-coffee, more-like-milkshakes drinks, he would make the drink for them. A waste of good coffee in his books, but he needed the money that came from his overpriced caffeinated chocolate milk

So, when it came to a coffee-novice coming into his coffee shop asking for a mocha, he would grit his teeth but make the drink nonetheless, the underline he requires to be able to pay his shop’s mortgage and keep all of his employees.

It was another one of these spring days when he’d unlocked the front doors of the café only to see someone new. Normally, only a few select people would come to his café so early in the morning, after all, most people started work at 9 or later. Only a few people would come at 5:30 when he opened. But today, there was someone new.

There was you, a person he’d never seen before standing behind his regulars. A cheery looking person, giving him a smile when he unlocked the door and opened it for the small group of people to trickle in.

He made his way behind the counter as he began his small routine with his regulars, smiling at each one of them as they gave him their orders, even though there really was no need as he had gotten each one of them memorized ages ago.

He took and prepared each order with practiced ease, until he got to the last person in line. The one who had spent the last ten minutes scanning the chalkboard menu with an analytical look.

You.

“Good morning,” you said to him with a kind smile.

“Good morning,” he replied. “What can I get started for you today?”

You wrung your hands, scanning the menu again, before looking back at him. “Can I get a large mocha?”

He scoffed. Seriously, chocolate this early in the morning? Typical from a cheery-looking person like yourself.

“What?” you asked, wondering if you’d broken some unspoken social cue. You’d seen the way he’d kindly spoken to the customers before you, making small talk, so what happened when it came to you?

“Nothing, nothing,” he waved you off, before pressing some buttons on his cash register’s screen. “That’ll be 5000 won.”

“No, no. That definitely was something. Did I say anything wrong?” You insisted, brows furrowed together in a mix of worry and a bit of indignation.

“No, not at all. It’ll be 5000 won.” He tried to force a smile, but your eyes were squinted together just as you did before when you were scanning the menu, but this time your object of interest was him.

“What? You just don’t like me or something?” You felt a bit uncomfortable, out of place in this cafe with a barista who seemed to hold a certain disdain for you from the moment you opened your mouth. But that didn’t mean you were going to back down from this entitled man. You eyed him up and down, letting him know the contempt was mutual.

He let out a small scoff, before seeming to recompose himself with customer service professionalism. “Of course not. I’m sorry if it seemed that way. Your total is 5000 won.”

You could see through his poorly reconstructed composure, but nonetheless gave him the requested money. You were already running late to your job interview, and you needed this job if you hoped to actually be able to rent a place in this city. You had already spent three weeks staying with your friend after moving here from your old city. You couldn’t stay with her forever, even if she was willing to keep you for forever if you needed it.

You stepped away from the register after he had given you your change and moved away to make your drink. You took the time to continue admiring the interior of the cafe as the barista flew around his counter space. You took in the worn furniture resembling something half between industrial and contemporary. The hanging lights and the various maps lining the walls of the place. Very hipster. Fitting for a coffee shop.

The call of: “One large mocha?” brought you back from your inspection. With a hum, you took your drink from him, feeling the drink warm your gloved hands.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, have a nice day.” And with that he was moving back to his dishes to clean up the dishes he’d used before the next customers wandered in.

You turned away from him, moving towards the door. Before you pushed open the door to brave into the cold, you flipped open the flap on the top of the to-go cup. You took a quick sip, ready for the delicious drink to coat your tongue, but instead your tastebuds were assaulted with a heinous amount of sugar. It tasted like you’d boiled a pool full of chocolate and dumped a truck full of sugar and then reduced the entire pool full over a roaring fire until only a cup of the concentrated mixture remained full of pure chocolate and sugar.

You immediately turned back on your heel. Pressing your tongue against the tip of your mouth, trying to rid it of the sweet assault. “You messed up,” you slammed the cup on the counter, seeing the barista’s shoulders jump at the loud thump.

“What’s the issue?” he asked, as he wiped off his hands on a hand towel before flipping it onto his shoulder. He leaned onto the counter with the palms of his hands, not even trying to hide his annoyance with you anymore considering the frown he sent your way.

“This is way too sweet. Like what, did you dump a whole bag of sugar into this thing?” You nudged the cup towards him. “If you didn’t like me, you could have just refused to take my order, you didn’t have to do all this!” You gestured to the cup.

“Please, I need you to calm down. I didn’t do anything to your drink. It’s just a regular mocha. Mochas are sweet, you should have known that before you ordered it for the first time.” He rolled his eyes slightly.

“First time? Oh, honey, no—I know what mochas are meant to taste like and this is not it. It’s practically the only thing I ever get!”

He scoffed yet again. Typical, he thought to himself. Never would've guessed. “Just take your drink and go, I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t believe me do you?” You said in disbelief. You never would dare fight with someone like this, but for some reason, this one guy was just getting on your nerves. Typically, even if your order had gotten mixed up you would just swallow your disappointment and try to enjoy the drink anyway. Even if it was something bitter and boring like a plain black coffee. But the way this man had been acting from the moment you ordered has been rude and completely ruined your confidence. Not what you needed at all before trying to get this job. And for some reason, it felt like all your senses and emotions had been turned up to 100, so controlling your anger was a lot harder.

“Drink it,” you told him, holding his eye contact. “Yeah, drink it. If you can drink even one gulp without making a face, I’ll admit I was wrong and leave.”

The barista tongued his cheek for a moment, contemplating what you said. “I don’t want to. I don’t like mochas, besides, I can’t drink a customer’s drink anyway.”

“I’m just gonna take your refusal as you admitting that you fucked with my drink.”

By this point the two people left in the shop were watching the two of you fighting at the counter. A middle aged man walked up to the counter, stepping in to try and defuse the situation. “Why don't you just take a sip of it, Yoongi? Just to prove them wrong?”

“I refuse,” the barista, Yoongi, said to the man. “It’s a matter of principle at this point. I’m not drinking it. I know my abilities, and I know that that mocha would be as good as mochas get. I’m not gonna take a sip of a nasty ass mocha just cause this person wants to throw a fuss at five in the morning.”

“So you admit you fucked with it?! You admitted it’s nasty!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes at you for the umpteenth time this morning. “I just hate mochas, they taste like shit. But anyone who likes those chocolatey messes will admit mine are as good as they get. I might not like them, but I still put all my effort into making sure they taste good.”

“Just fucking drink it then! I’m not joking, this tastes like shit. Maybe something is wrong with your milk steaming machine or something—this just isn’t right!”

The middle-aged man decided to try and put the fight to an end. “Why don’t I just give it a try, huh?”

“No!” But Yoongi and you said at the same time, before turning back to each other again.

“He refuses to admit it, and he has to be the one to try it!” You crossed your arms.

“And they’re the one who is making a big situation over nothing, you should never give in to people like them.” He glared at you. Now that his patrons were getting involved, he wanted to get you out as soon as possible.

“Just try it! I swear it’s unbelievable. Just give it one sip!” You threw up your arms in frustration. “Come on, I’m not even asking for a refund or anything, I just want you to admit that you took your anger out on me for no reason. That’s all, I don’t even want an apology!”

“I don’t need to apologize! I didn’t do anything wrong! That mocha is PERFECT! I’d bet my life on it.” Yoongi was fuming now, chest heaving with frustration and annoyance. He was this close to calling the cops on you and calling it a day.

“Oh shut up with the ‘perfect’ nonsense! It’s not perfect! Just try it! This whole thing would have been over ages ago if you just gave it a try!” You pulled the cap off of the cup. “If you’re afraid it’s poisoned, I’ll take a sip of it before you drink it. See look.”

You took a swig of the drink, nearly choking on the sugary beverage as you tried to keep the concoction from coming right back up. You gagged for a second or two, before finally straightening back up, wiping your mouth with the back of your gloved hand.

The two men around you exchanged expressions, their anger turning more to disbelief. Either you were a great actor or that drink really, really sucked.

“There, see. I didn’t tamper with it. Now, please, please just try it. Please. Don’t make me look insane. Just try it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ll try it. But if it tastes fine, you need to leave my shop and never come back, you hear me?”

“I swear. I won’t come back, don’t plan to anyway.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at that, before grabbing the lidless cup from the counter. He held it up, hesitated, and then said, “I really don’t like mochas,” with a scrunch of his nose. He took a breath and then took the smallest sip you’ve ever seen a human being take before slamming the cup down. His hand immediately came up to cover his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed.

You couldn’t bear to hide your smug look. How was he gonna hide how terrible the drink was now? He looked like he was going to throw up. Ha! That will show him!

But then he did the weirdest thing. He took another sip. A long sip this time. Other than his furrowed brows, he didn’t choke, gag, or even dry heave for a millisecond. Just watching him drink was making you nauseous.

“Oh my god!” you yelled, snatching the cup from his hands before he could take another sip, holding it up behind you, away from him. “You’re going to give yourself diabetes if you drink that whole thing!”

Immediately he tried to reach across the counter and get it back from you. “Hey! Give that back! This makes no sense!”

“Yoongi, calm down!” The man said, pushing the barista back off of the counter that he was practically leaning his whole body onto at this point.

“Why does it taste good?!” The distress that the barista was under put even you on pause. You watched the barista scramble around, rubbing at his head as if it was aching him. Was this the effect of all the sugar?

“Hey, man, you doing alright?” You placed the cup back down on the counter, holding a hand out to him to show you meant no harm.

He just shook his head, picking up a half empty mug from behind the counter that you had seen him periodically sipping from between the preparation of yours and the others’ drinks. He took a large gulp only to immediately run to the sink, spitting the drink right into the drain.

“Why does my coffee taste so heinous?! Why does it taste like fucking bitter gasoline? Why does the mocha taste so fucking good?!” He was still hunched over the sink, the only thing you could see of him was his back a bit of his lowered head. His arm reached to grab the hand towel on his shoulder to throw it to the side.

You had no answer for him. This was all so bizarre.

“This—” the middle aged man brought both your and Yoongi’s attention to him, as he brought the cup back to his lips for another sip. When had he taken your mocha from you? Was it when Yoongi was losing his mind?

“This tastes…” He took another sip. His brows furrowed in concentration.

“This tastes like a regular mocha.” He put the cup back down. “I think you guys need to calm down for a moment and think about what this means.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him.

“I think you know what I mean, dear.” The man had a kind-hearted look on his face as his eyes flitted between both you and Yoongi.

“OH MY GOD.” Yoongi grabbed the edge of the counter, seeming to understand the man’s insinuation. “There is no way.”

“What? What am I missing?” The man only shook his head as Yoongi raised his head to meet your gaze. He just pushed his half empty mug to you. Inside was black coffee.

“Try it. I need to see if it’s true.”

“Um, no. I don’t like black coffee. Yuck.” You nudged the mug right back to him only for him to stop the movement halfway.

“That’s exactly why you have to try this,” Yoongi said as calmly as he could, though you could swear he looked almost like he could faint right then and there.

“Fine,” you took the mug from him. “Just cause you did drink the mocha.”

You swirled the dark liquid in the mug, debating whether it was worth it to drink the bitter liquid. But when you looked up to see that both the man and Yoongi were watching you like scientists inspecting their latest mutant rats for their observational notes, you just took a sip only to get them to stop staring at you.

Instantly your throat was soothed as the smooth taste of the perfectly roasted coffee made its way through your mouth. You’d never drunk anything so refreshing, so calming as it warmed you up from the inside out. Even though there was no sugar or cream, you surprisingly didn’t mind it as it allowed the rich flavour of the black coffee to shine through strongly. It tasted so good.

You didn’t put down the mug until you’d finished the whole thing.

The middle aged man had a small smile on his face, while Yoongi seemed to be still in his inspector mode.

“So,” the man began. “How was it?”

You thought about it for a second. “Good. Like really good. Like surprisingly good.”

The man clapped his hands. “Well there you have it. Congrats you two.”

You shook your head for a second, scrunching your face in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi came around the counter, finally coming to stand beside you without anything between you two. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Easy, Yoongi. Don’t want to scare them off now do you?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the man but then nodded his head in understanding. “You don’t like black coffee right? Too bitter or something?”

You nodded. “Yeah, too bitter. I need more sugar or else I just can’t get it down.”

“And I hate mochas. They’re too sweet and you can’t even tell there is coffee in it since it's so overpowered by the sugar, chocolate, and milk.”

“Okay… What does that have to do with me though?”

“But I just liked the mocha. Not just liked, I loved the mocha. And you loved the black coffee.”

“Yeah…” You waited for him to clarify further.

He waved his arm as if urging you to think further, but when you just cocked your head to the side in confusion, he dropped his arm back down to his side. “Seriously?” he asked, exasperated. “I hated my usual coffee and loved your mocha. And you hated your usual mocha and loved my coffee.”

You nodded your head, trying to understand what he was trying to get at. Until it just clicked, your eyes widening instantly, reaching to grab his elbows. “OH MY GOD! We’re soulmates! Oh my god! We switched preferences! We’re soulmates!” You threw your arms around him, pulling him as close to you as you could through your thick winter jacket.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, his arms reciprocating your grasp.

“Oh my god! I knew I was meant to move here! I have to tell my roommate! But wait—” you pushed him out of your hold.

Yoongi let out a light groan, as he caught himself from stumbling.

You pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You hate mochas, you black coffee supremacist!”

“Seriously?” Yoongi asked you. “That’s your biggest concern now?”

“Well yeah! I mean, I don’t know if my preferences will change back, but if they do, I can’t stay with a soulmate that thinks he’s superior to me because of his coffee preferences!”

Yoongi let out a small laugh, his lips tugging into a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I think I will never be able to hate mochas after today.”

Even with your finger still pointed at him, you felt your lips pull into a wide smile at the hidden meaning behind his words.

You both jumped at the clearing of a throat behind the two of you. The man had made his way to the front door of the coffee shop with his order in his hand. “Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to let you know that my wife, Maria, had been recording the entire thing in case you needed to call the police.” He nodded towards the other patron who had been at the shop when you and Yoongi had started fighting who was now standing holding the door open as she waited for her husband. “Let me know if you want the video of your first meeting, I’m sure your friends and family would love to see it,” he said between kind-hearted soft laughs, before leaving hand-in-hand with Maria.

“Maybe even our future grandkids,” you teased him happily, taking a step back towards him.

Yoongi just smiled in reply, showing off his perfect teeth to you.

You felt your heart swell.

He took another step towards you, grabbing a hold of your hands by your side. “I would like that.”

You heard the door chime as a customer walked into the coffee shop before their steps halted somewhere behind you.

“Uh, is this a bad time?” The customer asked from behind you.

“Give me a second,” Yoongi replied.

“Alright,” the person cleared their throat. “Just don’t want to be late for work.”

That seemed to jolt you out of your Yoongi admiring stupor. “Shit! I have an interview!” You tightened your hold on his hands before letting go.

By the time Yoongi realized what was going on, you were already halfway out the door.

“I’m going to be so late! I’ll be back later, okay, baby?” You had pushed the door open taking a step out before turning back to him. “I am allowed to come back right? Or am I still exiled from your shop?” You asked with a smile.

“Seriously?” He laughed, shaking his head as he made his way back behind the service counter. “Maybe you’ll just have to try your luck.”

“You’re impossible.” You laughed into your hand, waving your hand at him. “When I come back, if you don’t let me in, I’ll tell all your customers that I almost threw up after drinking your mocha.” You stuck out your tongue at him as he fake gasped, before finally actually leaving the shop.

Well, there's that.

So if you didn't get it, in this case, soulmates have different ways of finding out if they're meant to be in this universe. For Yoongi and Y/n, they met and ended up switching coffee preferences (or maybe even more preferences but the only thing they noticed so far is the coffee). Even though their reactions may seem extra, when you meet your soulmate all your emotions/feelings/everything is meant to be heightened. So they had each other's preferences, but n times stronger. So that's why they loved the other's preference like it was ambrosia, but their own preferences tasted like so bad to them. Y/n found the mocha wayyyy to sweet like Yoongi would usually, and Yoongi found the black coffee wayyyyy too bitter cause Y/n likes her coffee well sweetened and with a lot of stuff to mellow the coffee flavour.

But anyway, yes they're in love.

So yeah, do let me know if you want me to post the rest of these. It will be a slow process, but I would like to do so.

Take care!!

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #bts drabbles #yoongi drabble #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts oneshot #bts drabble #soulmate au #coffee shop au #Ev's writing #series: love amour aur pyaar

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sopejinsunflower · 1 month ago

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2024.001.021: Into The Deep End

Go to series masterlist

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“Babe, what are you waiting for?”

As usual, Nick always went in first, leaving me standing at the edge of the lake, toes curling around the flat rocks beneath my feet, watching him with narrowed eyes as he swam further and further away. I took a tentative step forward and then another, the water slowly rising up until it hit the back of my knees, as slowly as the fear that grew in my chest.

“Nick!” I called out at the distant splashing I assumed was him. His head popped out and grinned ear to ear. He shook his head like a wet dog and waved me over. “Come on over here. Don’t be a baby,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“You know I can’t swim,” I said with a nervous laugh. “I’ll just stay here. You go on ahead.”

Nick swam back and I watched the way his strong arms stroke through the water making his way to me. He stood up in front of me, shaking water from his hair. “I’m sorry, baby. Here.” He put my arms around his shoulders. “Get on my back.”

I tried to pull away. “No, I’m fine. You can go-”

“Come on. Don’t be a wuss. Get on.”

I hesitated but Nick didn’t bother to wait, as usual, pulling me onto his back and grabbing onto my thighs to pull me up securely. “Deep breaths, baby,” he ordered and without another warning, he dove into the water.

The cool water hit my face and I tensed up, hearing the distant alarm bells ringing in my head. My eyes stung and I closed them, albeit too late. Nick swam fast, his legs kicking behind him as he dragged me through the dark water of the lake. My chest burnt and I struggled to hold my breath. I signalled to Nick to go up, tapping on his shoulder urgently but when he didn’t get the message, I started shaking him more forcefully.

But Nick continued on, swimming forward and almost as if he was going even faster. I could feel the panic setting in at the thought of how far from the shallow end we must have gone, but more importantly of how dark it seemed to be. It was ridiculous but it felt like I was being pulled down to the depths of it, a sudden feeling of being trapped overwhelming me. At that point, all I wanted was to get off of him, the alarm bells now screaming in my head telling me that being attached to his back was much more dangerous than the water. I didn’t feel safe with him.

I must have tightened my grip against Nick’s neck because now he was the one struggling, pushing against my arms. But in that moment, it felt like he wanted me to let go so I’d sink to the bottom of the lake, gone forever, a way for him to get rid of me quick and easy and with less of a mess. I held on tighter, feeling his Adam’s apple somewhat digging into my arm now and this time Nick was literally fighting me off, prying my arms with one hand while trying to stay afloat.

My survival instinct kicked in and I was latched on to him like some kind of parasite, unknowingly choking him to death while at the same time believing that he was the one trying to kill me. Bubbles escaped both our lips and I heard him shout something under the water. It took him awhile before he resurfaced, both of us spluttering and gasping for air.

“Let go of me!”

His strength outmatched mine and he finally managed to pry me off. It was when my butt hit the rocky ground that I noticed we were already by the shore with families and groups of friends and couples staring at me looking like an almost drowned rat being berated, which is not far from the truth, I thought.

“Crazy bitch!” Nick spat before he stormed off towards the car, cursing under his breath.

~~~

Jin is the type of person that would do his best to keep all the bad memories away. He likes to focus on the good so it makes everything else more bearable, so when you asked him that question, his mind just went completely blank.

“Jin?” you urge, shaking him a little, your nails digging into his skin.

He blinks, his gear kicking in. “Let’s get out of here first,” he says, gently guiding you out of the space inside the wall. His mouth feels dry and his tongue is now a block of sandpaper. He keeps his hands on you as you both walk downstairs, being hyper aware of the silken smooth material of your top, knowing that he’s only holding on to you to keep himself grounded.

They run into Hoseok when they reach the second floor and one look at Jin is enough to alert the other man. That look, as well as your puffy red eyes.

“What happened?” he approaches you and boldly tips your chin up to get a proper look at your face. “Are you okay?”

At the sheepish grin you give him, he turns to Jin. “Hyung?”

“I-” you start to say before clearing your throat and trying again. “I got stuck in the wall.”

“What?!”

“I’m fine!” you rush to add. “Jin found me. I’m okay.” You look at Jin and give his hand a squeeze. “We’re okay.”

Jin seems to suddenly realise where he is but his reaction surprises both himself and you. He lets go of your hand more abruptly than he intended, mumbles something neither you nor Hoseok could make out and then excuses himself. He walks away, down the stairs and then disappears from your sight even before you even think of what to say to stop him. You look back helplessly at Hoseok who shrugs his shoulders.

“He’ll be okay,” he reassures, although the scowl on his face remains. He doesn’t look convinced himself. “He just…needs time.” Hoseok gently pulls you towards your bedroom. “Do you want to tell me what happened though?”

The memory resurfaces and you purse your lips. “I think I saw a memory.”

“Of?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I think I drowned? A long time ago?”

You don’t have to look at Hoseok’s face to register first the subtle startle of his body going rigid and then the way his whole demeanour seemed to be clouded over, like a shadow had fallen over him and you. It was enough of an answer. Hoseok silently leads you back to your room, his soul feeling too heavy for his vessel as he recalled that awful memory. Has Jin confirmed it with you? Was he not able to?

“Is Jin okay?” he hears you mutter.

Hoseok only gives your shoulder a quick squeeze, not saying the words out loud: I don’t know.

***

No, Jin is not okay.

Namjoon catches a glimpse of him heading for one of the rooms where the liquor cabinet is. He doesn’t think much of it but a hunch made him get up from his seat and follow the older man. If only he knew what had transpired upstairs, maybe he would have quickened his steps because just as he enters the room, Jin is already holding a bottle of dark whiskey, the kind that people go for to numb pain you can’t physically see, the kind that painkillers don't work on.

Only slightly curious, Namjoon quietly sits in one of the armchairs, opening up his book and pretending to read. Jin carries the crystal bottle towards the sliding door that leads to the back of the house and after a five-second pause, opens the door and goes outside. He doesn’t even acknowledge Namjoon in the room with him and that should’ve been the biggest warning flag. He should’ve easily noticed that Namjoon’s book is upside down.

See, the thing about living for centuries together, you develop a bond unlike any other that when something bad happens to one or the other, you’d feel it deep in your bones. Dread that starts from your bone marrow and seeps into your bloodstream, slowly poisoning you until even your own saliva tastes bitter as you swallow. That’s what Namjoon is experiencing now as he watches Jin’s back among the tall reeds as he goes further and further away towards the tree line. He might be able to feel the darkness but it’s nothing that he can confirm to be of any consequence. That’s what Hoseok is feeling, too, as he shuts your door quietly behind him.

The foreboding impression that one of them is about to go into the deep end creeps down all six backs. It’s a familiar feeling, of course, one they learned to recognize easily now after much hard-learned lessons. Hoseok is in the middle of the staircase when Namjoon comes up to him, telling him what he already suspected. The question is, would he be able to reach the long forgotten waterfall?

Jimin and Jungkook argued that the pathway had been sealed, that it will be more than overgrown now. The waterfall itself would have disappeared, too, dried up as the environment changes. But Hoseok doesn’t want to hear logic or arguments; he wants to find Jin and bring him back.

“He won’t come back,” Yoongi had said matter-of-factly. “You know he won’t. Not until he’s faced with it.” He’s ignoring the fact that Jin might not be sober, having faith that the eldest had always been the reasonable one. Jin won’t do anything stupid. Right?

“There’s no reason to go back there,” replied Namjoon, somewhat annoyed. He’s been pacing the floor, tugging at his hair from the roots. “We could’ve talked things out. What is he thinking?!”

Jungkook stands up, unable to ignore the unsettling feeling in his stomach. “I’m going after him. Before he hurts himself.”

The others agree and start preparing themselves. The sun is still high in the sky and there will still be a few more hours left before it gets dark but flashlights were among the things they packed. Just in case. As they’re about to leave the house, Jimin suddenly has half a mind to ask for your whereabouts.

Hoseok answers, “She’s in her room, taking a nap.”

“No, she’s not.” They all look up to see Oliviera standing in the doorway with an annoyed look on her face. “She’s gone to take a walk. Left half an hour ago.” When they all stare back at her blankly, she scoffs, “It would be good if you start being more aware of your surroundings.”

They watch her walk away, mumbling under her breath. The six men exchange looks, mouth slacking open and the blood draining from their faces as they realise too late where you are going.

~~~

Death in itself is natural. A necessary thing to keep the cycle of life going.

It’s one thing to live multiple lives throughout the centuries because those lives don’t really blend together. They’re separate; separate people, separate stories, separate…me. But dying and being brought back to life is like having one foot through the door and it makes you somewhat wonder if all of you ever made it back to this side, or if a piece of you is lost forever. Gone through the abyss. The chasm. The other side, or whatever they call it.

I trudge through the grass, heading to where I last saw Jin. I heard the others talk about how to handle him, how to talk to him, but none of them mentioned going after him. Maybe they understood to give Jin the space he needed but to me, needing space doesn’t quite equal to walking into the forest alone, empty-handed except for a bottle of Macallan. Somehow I knew deep in my heart that it’s got everything to do with me and if I didn’t bring him back to the house then we’re all doomed. It’s a funny notion but it felt like the truth.

As I walk down the barely visible path, I keep thinking about having died by drowning. Neither Jin or Hoseok ever verbally confirmed if that happened but the look on their faces had been clear enough. Weirdly, it didn’t scare me but it does somehow, in a twisted way, explain my fear of water. It makes sense. A lot of people believe in incarnation and for traumas and scars of those lived lives to resurface in the current one is plausible. It aligns. Does it explain my fear of dark places, too? Or was that from a different life? I wouldn’t know until I know the circumstances of what had actually happened and the only one who can tell me that is the person I’m blindly following into the woods.

There used to be a waterfall somewhere in here, that much I heard from the boys’ conversation. If my hunch is correct (it feels more than a hunch, like a buzzing in my soul), then it’s exactly the place where it happened. But the deeper into the woods I go, the more the little path starts to fade out and then disappear altogether. I walk on a little more, stubborn from admitting that I am what I am: lost. Hopelessly lost in the woods.

I heave a sigh, rotating in a small circle, looking around the tall trees. I consider my options: one, go back to the house and face the consequence of my stupid actions in the form of six angry men that I had walked out without a word or two, keep going and get even more lost and perhaps just die out there in the woods alone, eaten by a wolf or a bear. Fuck, I didn’t even consider the wild animals that could be living here. The dread sinks in and suddenly my surroundings feel ten times scarier.

Hoseok is going to be so pissed. Jimin, too. The others would be disappointed that I worry them but those two won’t shy away from telling it how it is.

Wait a minute. Neither of them have ever been angry with me. Was that a previous memory thing again? I let out a frustrating groan, holding my head in between both hands. At times like this, it just feels like I’m living in someone else’s skin, pretending to be someone I’m not. Everything feels not enough and too much at the same time, like trying to recall something that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue but never being able to remember, feeling like I should remember because they are my thoughts, my memories. My life. And yet, they’re not. Not quite.

Something soft brushes against my leg and I jump up, yelping.

“Mreoww.”

“Karma!” I look at the cat in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

The cat’s twin tails swish vigorously, his eyes piercing mine. He walks ahead a few steps, tails sticking up straight in the air. He looks back once, eyes glinting with such knowledge it’s almost like I can hear him. Come. Follow me.

I watch Karma take a few more steps forward, stop and look back again. This time I got the message.

“Take me to Jin,” I say, following behind him, knowing that he’s already doing exactly just that.

~~~

Seokjin is walking blindly, the bottle of whiskey he carried with him earlier gone a long time ago, flung to the foot of some random tree but not before he finished the last drop.

He is very much drunk, swaying on his feet as the world tilts from side to side with every step. He feels hot and a little sick but it’s impressive how focused he is on reaching the destination he has set in his mind. Honestly, he didn’t mean to get this inebriated, that wasn’t his intention. He had only needed the dark fiery liquor as a means to not chicken out. It helped him give him the strength and courage he needed, albeit temporary. Now, he’s starting to regret going a little bit too far.

The others will be angry, he has no doubt about it. Imagine that; the most level-headed of them is now tumbling through the woods looking for a place he hasn’t been to for decades, half out of his mind, literally, just to…what? What exactly is the reason for him searching for that damned waterfall?

“Take me there, Jinnie,” you had pouted, stamping your feet a little like a kid. “I want to go for a swim, Jinnie. It’s perfect weather. Please, Jinnie.”

You had begged and whined and literally clung to him the whole week with that pretty pout on your face that Jin had more than once bent over to leave a peck or two, cheekily riling you on with a simple, “No, thank you” to your request before walking away. He blamed only himself for even speaking about the place a few weeks back when they had all talked about where to go now that summer was there.

It was during dinner and among the suggestions of going to the beach or the lake in the next town over, Jin had casually said, “Why not the waterfall in our own backyard?”

Obviously it was met with a lot of pushbacks. Namjoon and Yoongi are both convinced that it was too deep in the woods while Taehyung complained about mosquitoes. Jungkook mulled over the idea for a bit but Jimin reminded that it would be a hassle to lug all the picnic stuff through dense trees for miles. So it was agreed upon by the majority that it was not the best idea and it was dropped. Or so he thought.

You, on the other hand, had broached the idea again that night before bed as you laced your fingers through his. It took everything in Jin to keep a serious face, reiterating what Jimin had said about it being too difficult to carry things there. He tried to discourage you with mosquito bites and it being humid and hours of trekking until you finally relented. For the night, that was.

But Jin isn’t much of a strong soldier when you are the opponent; then, now or ever. He finally gave in a week later (a record time, actually) with a compromise that it would be a date, just for the two of you to minimise items to carry. A hike, just you and Jin. You had tried to get Yoongi to come along too but he had been too busy with the roof repair. It had been raining a lot the past couple of weeks but the huge thunderstorm yesterday was the final straw that threatened to cave the roof in and he couldn’t procrastinate any longer now that there was a leak in the master bedroom, lest he wanted a swimming pool in the ceiling.

So Jin had spent hours in the early morning meticulously preparing the food. He had woken up at five in the morning, hardly sleepy but a little excited, against his better judgement. He wasn’t a hiking kind of person, that was Namjoon and occasionally Hoseok if the place was right. Jungkook had come down a little after six, woken by the smell of food only to stare into space in the middle of the kitchen before Jin ushered him back to bed with the promise that there would be extra left for when he was actually fully awake.

You came bounding into the kitchen a little earlier than he expected and you both packed everything together into a little rucksack, an attempt to keep your loads light. You rationalised that you didn’t need to pack a change of clothes because you could both just come back when you’re done. The trek back home would dry you off plenty so no need for towels either. Only one rucksack of food and a flask of juice and a picnic mat. Some cutleries and napkins. That was all.

Jin could even still hear the promise you made to Yoongi as you left out the door, that you’ll both be back after lunchtime, that you’d help him with the roof after (Yoongi countering that no, that was not needed because he didn’t want you up on the roof with him, that Taehyung would be home to help instead so no worries, you can just enjoy yourselves). It was when he watched you wave goodbye to Yoongi that the heavy feeling crept in. But he didn’t know. He couldn’t have.

I took you here, he thinks now. It’s my fault. That stain on your soul, I put it there.

But going back to the place where it happened isn’t going to change anything but in the absence of sobriety, the logic eludes him. He’s not even sure why he’s heading there but he guesses that he just needs to see it. He hasn’t been there since it happened; neither of them had. They had tried to cover the pathway, blocking it from ever being accessed, but now, somehow, Jin’s feet are taking him there, oblivious to the tiny scratches along his calves and his arms, the stray branches nicking his neck and cheeks as he pushes through the growth.

~~~

Being a cat means that Karma is gracefully moving through the undergrowth, leaving me stumbling behind him, desperate to keep up and not getting poked in the eye with a branch or whatnot.

The grasses are getting taller and I’m getting more and more anxious of coming across a snake or worse, stepping on one. But Karma doesn’t even seem wary; odd for a cat but then again he was an outdoor adventurer before I brought him in. Is this wood familiar to him?

The stupidity of the reality of following a cat crosses my mind more than a few times because how do I even know where he’s taking me? Why am I so sure that he’s leading me to Jin? Jin could’ve turned back around and I wouldn’t even know it, leaving me alone with the dumb idea to think that a cat is taking me where I want to go. But an innate feeling tells me I should trust the cat which keeps looking back at me every few minutes with those blue-yellow orbs of his as if making sure my two clumsy feet, as opposed to his lithe four, are keeping up fine.

“Do you have to go so fast?” I ask exasperatedly after another branch whips into my face. Karma actually pauses, sits on a log and licks his front paw lazily. He gives me a judgemental look before turning around and bounding off. I roll my eyes.

My focus is solely on finding Jin, so much so that I completely forgot about the other six back at the house who are currently, unbeknown to me, facing another bigger problem.

~~~

Jin arrives.

Nostalgia is a mind trick because the place isn’t as pretty as the memory in his head, albeit the bitter experience. The waterfall had dried up and the pond beneath it was murky and overgrown with water plants that almost covered the surface of the dark, dirty water. Jin can’t even fathom bringing you here on a picnic date. The place looks more like the heavy feeling in Jin’s chest whenever he thinks about that day he pulled you out of the water than the small piece of heaven he and Namjoon had pridefully boasted the day they found it.

This place, like all of your past lives, had died.

Standing there, eyes glued to the middle of the dark pond, Jin is sucked into the memory he tries so hard to push to the back burner. He reasoned with himself every time that you were alright after all and everything was fine so he could let go, but the more he tries to forget, the guiltier he feels. It wasn’t just your heart that stopped beating for two minutes; his did, too. And it never beat right again after that, the rhythm wonky and jagged, at times like a bird in too small a cage.

That part of you that died in the water, is it still there? If he goes into the water, would he be able to retrieve the broken piece of your soul and make you a little bit more whole? Jin sighs heavily. He doesn’t think it would make much of a difference. Putting only a tiny fragment of something that broke in a million different ways won’t change a thing. There are just too many scars, too many traumas contained in that body of yours, with or without your knowing.

Out of all the things Jin wants, one of them is to heal you; to take away all your pain and suffering. If he could trade your soul with his, if he could bear all of your crosses, he would do it in a heartbeat. He knows damn well, too, that so will the others (he’ll never forget how Jungkook literally dove in front of a bullet for you, in one of those lives but that’s a story for another time).

With another deep sigh, Jin plops himself down on a horizontal rotting log, eyes never leaving the water surface. The sun is no longer above the treeline and the lighting seems muted. In the silence, he longs for you, wishing he could feel your arms around his shoulders and hear your voice telling him how stupid he’s being right now. His head is starting to pound and the world is swaying from side to side. His alcohol-soaked brain is starting to get the better of him because why is he seeing you climbing up the side of the waterfall again, grinning at him ear to ear.

He stands up, tilting a bit to one side and he feels like he might be sick. You scale to the top, waving at him happily. “Get down from there,” he tried to say but the words felt too heavy for his tongue to form properly. No. Not again. Please. If there’s a god out there, please not again.

Jin shuffles forward, tripping over his own feet, calling out to you. The sound of the waterfall is deafening in his ears and he tries his best to shout over the noise. He moves forward, shoes sinking into the water as he desperately wills his body to keep moving, to get to you before you jump. He’s too slow, body too big, too heavy. No. Stop. Don’t. Don’t jump.

But you do - into the water with a splash only in Jin’s head. Adrenaline surges and for a moment his vision clears a little bit and the world stops trying to upend him off his feet. He wades in the water, screaming your name. Something catches against his legs but with brute force, he wrenches himself free. Later, he’ll feel the burn but for now, all he can do is try and catch you when you fall. He can be ready this time. He can stop it from happening this time. He can save you this time.

With one last wave with a smile that outshines the sun, you jump. And Jin dives under the water after you.

A few feet behind him, standing on the log he had been sitting just minutes ago, you look in horror as Jin disappears into the water.

Back at the manor…

Oliviera stares open-mouthed at the six ghosts standing in the hallway, their pale faces mirroring hers.

Hoseok stares at his semi-translucent hands, feeling the icy cold fingers of dread creeping down his neck like someone had just doused him in cold water. Their backpacks had thumped straight to the floor loudly the moment their shoulders were no longer solid and Jimin thinks that fear is such an insignificant word to describe this sinking feeling in his stomach. His hands shake.

“What’s happening?” Jungkook asks, his voice sounding a lot more like the teenager they raised than the adult that he is, eyes wide and looking around.

Hoseok and Namjoon exchange looks but neither of them has an answer. Yoongi slumps to his knees, his legs feeling like jelly. His chest is tight and every breath is like claws dragging down the inside of his ribcage. He knows he’s right before the words even come out of his mouth: “Jin. It’s Jin.”

It takes all but zero point two seconds between when the words sink in and when they dash out the door, opting to go through it like the ghosts that they are and straight down towards the back of the house. But ghosts are bound to the places that they haunt and so Solomon’s Manor pulls them back, stopping them just before the ravine, a hundred feet or so away from the edge of the woods. So close, yet so far away.

Jungkook screams for his hyung, a voice that barely reaches the treeline and Jimin bursts into tears, fisting his shirt above where his heart is supposed to be because the pain there is excruciating. Yoongi stares forlornly into the distance, holding Taehyung by the waist as the other man’s face is buried in Yoongi’s shoulder. Hoseok’s fists lay helplessly by his sides but Namjoon doesn’t stop from trying to break away from the invisible force that keeps them bound to the house; a curse so old they’ve lived a thousand lives. He twists, he turns and he yells to the sky but all in vain. Solomon’s Manor keeps them from reaching Jin.

A thousand lives and yet nothing as bad as this ever happened. The threat of bad omens has always followed you, never them. Immortal beings have no qualms about the other side that it never crossed their minds that their own lives could ever be in danger. Death has only been associated with you, the cycle jumping your soul from one body to the next. It never occurred that it could happen to them when it has been aeons with no rest; the same souls residing in the same bodies as the century bled into the next.

“She’ll find him,” comes a voice, although shaky, from behind. Hoseok turns around to see Oliviera had followed them, wringing her hands together at her chest. Her face is pale as her eyes are set towards the wood. “She’ll bring him home.”

She must, Hoseok thinks, a thought that rings cohesive among all of them standing there.

You have to trust me, too.

Your words ring in his head. He stiffens his upper lip, but his hands remain fisted.

Above them, thick clouds roll in, dark as the future seems to be.

a/n: Look at that! Two updates in one year! Productive! Lmao

Next coming...someday

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honeylemonteaasblog · 6 months ago

Text

Soulmates <3

summary: Yoongi and our MC, Hani, meeting for the first time.

pairing: Yoongi x Reader

genre: soulmates, fluff

word count: 3.7 k

warning: fluff, almost sickeningly sweet, boyfriend Namjoon

Yeah, soulmates existed but you never thought you would find your soulmate.

It’s not because you were a complete pessimist, it’s just that most people don’t. Historians talked about a time where everyone meet their soulmate. It was like a rite of passage to meet, fall in love, and live happily ever after. Then, it was like the world just… moved on. We shifted away from this romanticized idea of love. We prioritized money, productivity, and success. But the problem was that not everyone can agree on how to define success.

As a teenager, school became your whole life. Then, when you finally did graduate, work became your whole life. There was this need to progress in life at the fastest pace possible. And if you didn’t complete everything how everyone else wanted, then you were failing. If you didn’t do well in school, go to a good university, and land a well paying job where you could work for the rest of your life, then you weren’t successful. It didn’t matter what you accomplished. It didn't matter how you felt about any of it.

In this new world that demanded toxic productivity and limited happiness, there was no room for soulmates. Not in the traditional way anyways. Some people still found their soulmates. But the magic of it all wore off. It didn’t seem special anymore. If anything, people who found their soulmates were lucky because of the convenience of it all. You found the one, so you could stop pretending to care about love.

Historians describe soulmates as a magic that can’t be contained. An all consuming feeling that can’t be fully described because it’s too many positive things all at the same time.

Personally, you think that no one can describe soulmates because that’s part of the magic that has worn off. It’s just another causality caught in the cross fire. The very idea of soulmates is slipping away. You wonder how long it will be until everyone forgets there were soulmates to begin with. It’s already started.

“Please… It’ll be fun. I promise” Minji is begging you to go to dinner with her friends. It’s not that you don’t want to go or don’t believe her. You do want to met her friends and boyfriend, Namjoon. It’s just that you don’t really like meeting new people. Well, you don’t really like social gatherings, or people for that matter, in the first place. You prefer a night in with a good book and some music.

But you had been dodging Minji’s attempts for a whole group hang out for over a month now and she was getting desperate. You were starting to feel bad. And it was a Friday night so you didn’t have classes in the morning. Plus she was almost in tears and looking up at you with puppy eyes. Really, you were doomed from the start.

“Just dinner.” You don’t think she was listening anymore, too busy nodding happily as she texted her boyfriend about the slight change of plans. She said that there were already going to be nine people, so adding another person last minute would be completely fine. She always complained that she was in desperate need of more women in their hangouts. It was only Minji and Sieun, Hoseok’s girlfriend.

She always called them “the boys.” Even though her boyfriend was one of them, he was simply lumped in with the rest of them. It always made you laugh how she talked about them as if they were one singular unit. They all seemed to exist together. It made you smile, but also you were a little nervous because you had no idea what to expect. You had no idea who they were. You hadn’t even met Namjoon yet. Nor did you know much about him, despite being friends with Minji for so long. All you did know was that they all go to Seoul’s National University too. But it was a big school, so even that didn’t mean much.

You didn’t even know their names, well, only Namjoon and Hoseok.

Needless to say, you were nervous on your way to dinner. You and Minji were taking the bus over to the restaurant together. You sat quietly, wondering what Minji’s reaction would be if you decided to fake an illness to get out of dinner. She would realize what you were doing, but you wonder if she might let you off the hook if she could tell how hard you were trying. Minji was talking to you a little, but mostly to herself. She was going on and on about how much the boys were going to love you. That they needed someone like you in their friend group.

That is, someone smart. Apparently the boys were a little dumb. Don’t get it wrong, they were smart, they just were also ‘the boys.’ You took her word for it because you didn’t really know what that meant. But you also did understand that boys tended to be a particular kind of dumb smart. So you wouldn’t put it past the seven men to be both smart and dumb at the same time. In fact, they probably were most of the time.

She also gave you a brief introduction of each of them so you didn’t have to stress about trying to figure it all out while you were eating.

The oldest Seokjin had graduated last year with a business degree and worked at a start up while also working as a TA at the university.

Then, Yoongi who also graduated with a business degree with Seokjin last year, but decided to double major. So, he is finishing a music production degree.

Namjoon’s a literature major, focusing on classics. It makes you smile because it makes sense why Namjoon and Minji would get along. You can already tell that you are going to like her boyfriend.

Hoseok’s a senior and Jimin’s a junior, but they are both majoring in dance. Their dream is to a run a studio together. It’s honestly pretty heartwarming.

Then Taehyung, who is studying photography. Apparently he has a couple minors because he could never make up his mind about what to study and now has all of these extra credits and hobbies that he doesn’t know what to do with.

Finally, the maknae, Jungkook who apparently is your stereotypical ‘gym bro.’ That in itself makes you a little nervous. But he is studying graphic design instead of getting a business degree so it gives you hope. Minji says that Jungkook is a literal bunny, whatever that means.

Sieun greets you both at the entrance to the restaurant, having just gotten there herself. You had meet Sieun a few times when she’d eat lunch with you and Minji sometimes. She’s like a little ray of sunshine. Honestly, it’s adorable. You found yourself wanting to squish her checks together all the time.

“I’m so glad you are here.” Sieun, ever the princess, said brightly. “There are too many men, we need more women in the group.” She sighed hopelessly. Minji was quick to voice her agreement which made you burst out laughing. You think that you are really going to like this friendship. And its always great to have girl friends. There is something special about it.

It was a higher end KBBQ restaurant. So even though you could tell it was more expensive you didn’t feel underdressed. It felt homey which helped you relax a little but you were nervous walking to the table. You could see seven men sitting at a table in the back. It was not completely private, but farther in the back offering some privacy for your large group.

You assume that Namjoon was the first to see you because a tall man jumped up from his seat to hurry over and wrap Minji in a hug. Despite his large frame, you could already tell he was a teddy bear. You think you already like him, but had to put on the front of a protective best friend. Once he let go of Minji he turned to greet you, bowing politely.

“Haneul, right?” You nod, returning his bow. It felt pretty formal but you appreciated the gesture. You think Minji found a good man. “Hani is fine.” You say diplomatically while Minji stifles a laugh beside you, amused by your antics. Like she would be any different.

You turn towards the other men, intending to offer each a smile and expecting an awkward introduction back. But after the first awkward smile, you freeze. A man is looking back at you. He has cat-like eyes and dark hair. He looks so pretty. You aren’t sure how else to describe him, just pretty. You think that your brain might be malfunctioning a little because you aren’t able to form any words. Honestly, the man isn’t doing much better. He also is just staring back at you, mouth slightly agape.

Its only after the initial shock that you realize why you both are frozen. You are soulmates. You had never expected to meet your soulmate. You hadn’t planned for this. Judging by his expression, you don’t think he had either. No one does anymore. So, you aren’t completely sure how to react. You don’t know what is expected of soulmates the first time they meet each other.

Everyone else is watching the two of you in confusion, but neither of you even realize because you are both too preoccupied with just staring at each other. You think you could be happy staring into his eyes forever.

“You’re my soulmate.” The man finds his voice before you do. He states it so matter of factly, his voice void of emotions. Part of you understands his tone, you relate to his tone. But the other part of you cringes. Is it bad to wish that his voice held more emotion? Is it bad to wish that he cared?

You nod, suddenly unsure of yourself. God, you want the ground to swallow you whole. Why had you let Minji convince you to meet her friends. You could be at home right now instead of in the restaurant meeting your soulmate.

It’s not that you have something against soulmates or you don’t want a soulmate at all. It’s just that you don’t know what is expected of a soulmate. You didn’t expect to meet your soulmate so you hadn’t considered what you did want. Obviously, you are an overthinker. You like to have everything planned out before you need to make a decision. You don’t like surprises because it makes you feel out of control. This is a surprise and, right now, you definitely feel out of control.

You can feel your eyes begin to fill with tears. You play with your sleeves behind your back to try to stop your hands from shaking but it isn’t working because you can still feel them shake. You blink a few times to make sure you don’t start crying. God, you really don’t want to cry; that would be a mess. How would you even explain why you are crying to your soulmate. That is, if they even wanted to know in the first place. You are vaguely aware of just how much you are overthinking right now, but can’t seem to stop yourself.

Your soulmate’s words broke everyone else out of their spell. The man next to your soulmate pushed the man towards the end of the booth, muttering something about how he has to do something and how you look scared.

You don’t look scared. Right?

Your soulmate stands up and takes a hesitant step towards you. When you don’t move he approaches cautiously. “I’m Yoongi.” “Haneul” Your voice shakes which contrasts Yoongi’s voice which stays steady despite the emotion now on his face. You can see him struggling to say something, but you don’t know how to read his emotions. They are so clearly on his face, but its difficult to decipher. Maybe its the tears clouding your vision. You wonder if Yoongi even knows what he, himself, is feeling.

“Haneul” Yoongi repeats. You don’t think he was actually talking to you so you don’t respond. You don’t even know what you would say to him. You nod. “Hani” You end up saying. “Everyone calls me Hani” You clarify when he doesn’t speak. You open your mouth to say something else. What exactly? You aren’t sure. But Yoongi beats you to it when he repeats your name. Again. He smiles and for the first time. You feel butterflies, the good kind.

“Why don’t you two eat together? We can meet later.” The man who had ushered Yoongi to stand up earlier says with a smile. It’s a nice smile. It makes you feel like he cares about you. Minji really does have good friends. You glance at Minji and she smiles and nods encouragingly. She looks like she might burst with energy. Minji is slightly bouncing up and down like a toddler that ate too much candy. Namjoon is standing next to her. He is looking between Minji and you like he might need to step in and hold Minji back from hugging you.

You look at Yoongi who is looking at you with hopeful eyes. It’s the first emotion you can easily read. You don’t think you would be able to turn him down when he is looking at you like that, even if you didn’t want to eat with him. You nod quickly which makes him smile even wider. His smile is this gummy smile that makes your heart clench. You decide that you love his smile.

You and Yoongi move over to another booth for some privacy. You are just far enough away that the others won’t be able to hear you, but they still have a clear view which makes you shift nervously. You can tell that all of them are watching you and Yoongi carefully. Yoongi seems calm which is good because you are anything but calm. You need some calm. Maybe this whole soulmate thing had some merit to it. Maybe Yoongi will be able to balance you out. The thought makes you a little dizzy. If Yoongi balances you out by giving you some peace to your racing mind, you hope that you can balance him out in some way too.

You send him a shy smile, trying to see what Yoongi could possibly need help balancing out. He blushes. Like he actually blushes.

You knew the myth behind soulmates. It was said that your soulmate was your other half. They were like your missing puzzle piece. That they completed you. Obviously it was a nice thought. Doesn’t everyone want to meet their person? Someone who just completes you and makes all the worries go away. So of course soulmates sound pretty good. But the problem is that soulmates don’t promise anything. Back when soulmates were really popular, people would find their soulmate and fall in love, but still get their heart broken. Love between soulmates isn’t set in stone, you still need to put effort into your relationship.

Relationships are never easy, even with the perfect person, your other half. Your soulmate.

You think it is naive for people to think that soulmates would fix that. But for most, they want an easy love. They want all the perks of being in a relationship without the work. So the magic of soulmates began to fade. Simply people stopped valuing relationships and instead wanted ease, but nothing in life is easy, especially the things worth fighting for. And you can already tell that Yoongi is worth fighting for.

“Here” Yoongi begins to place cooked meat into your bowl of rice. You had been so caught up in your own head that you hadn’t even realized he had been grilling meat. You send him a shy smile that makes his eyes light up. You feel satisfied. You have always cared about people and put so much into making other people happy, but there is something special about making Yoongi happy.

“I never thought I’d meet my soulmate.” He leans back in his chair, giving you his full attention. In the best way possible, it makes you really nervous. There is something so unique about being watched by Yoongi. It is like he is truly seeing you and you aren’t sure you have ever felt so vulnerable with anyone. “I gave up.” You admit in a soft voice that makes Yoongi melt. You see it in the way that his eyes soften.

“People used to plan their lives around soulmates and now people give up their soulmates for whatever life they already have. It's like they are so scared of disappointment that they won't let themselves wish for the mere possibility of something better.” Yoongi’s voice is really nice. You wonder if he would consider recording an audiobook. He has the voice for it. “But… I’ve always dreamed of meeting my soulmate.” Yoongi’s confession makes your eyes snap up to his. A part of you wants to hide, worrying that you won’t be able to meet his expectations. On the other hand, the look of kindness in his eyes makes you think that he may just be a kind man. So, you find yourself wanting to trust him.

“Relationships aren’t easy. Soulmates don't guarantee anything.” You voice shakes a little bit and you hope Yoongi doesn’t realize but based on how closely he is watching your face you bet he does. He nods quickly.

“You jumped to relationship quickly” His eyes look playful as he watches you, so you know that he is teasing you. Briefly, you realize that he is trying to make you feel more comfortable. It’s working. “Oh? No relationship is fine for me too.” You keep your voice light so he knows that your teasing him and not serious. You are also fighting a smile that you know he can see.

Yoongi fights off his own smile as he watches your eyes shine. You look happy and it makes him happy. “Wait.” His voice comes out strained and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Relationship sounds good. Great actually.” He talks quickly as he watched you smile as his words. God, he would do anything to keep that smile on your face.

You breakout into a fit of giggles and it has him stopping. It’s like Yoongi’s whole world stops in that moment. He finally understands what all the historians are talking about. He doesn’t know how he thought that he was happy before because it’s in this moment that he realizes he will never be happy again if you aren’t in his life. He doesn’t know how he could go back to his normal life if he you left him. It is in this exact moment that Yoongi realizes that despite just meeting you, he would do anything for you.

He is already writing a album in his head. He wonders if it would be to bold to title it “Hani.”

“Relationship sounds good to me too.” Your voice is shy and it makes Yoongi want to wrap you in his arms and shield you from everything that could ever hurt you. You are too precious for this world.

The others watch the two of you from their table. They aren’t able to hear anything, but they don’t need to because they can see the big smiles on both of your faces. Neither of you have stopped smiling since you sat down together. “I’ve never seen Yoongi look like that” Jin states. The others simply nod, keeping their eyes on you and Yoongi. They don't want to blink and miss a part of your love story.

“They’re already in love.” Minji hasn’t stopped smiling since she heard the word soulmate. Minji has always loved the idea of soulmates. While she and Namjoon have been in a relationship for years now and she is absolutely in love with him, she has always loved the idea of soulmates. The idea that there is someone else out there that is meant for you. Someone that is your other half. Out of the two best friends, Minji is the romantic.

So now that you and Yoongi are soulmates, Minji is ready to live out her dreams of seeing soulmates fall in love. Many best friends might be jealous, but Minji loves you so much. She also knows Yoongi.

Unlike most people, Yoongi has always held out hope that he would find his soulmate. He has a file on his laptop of songs dedicated to his soulmate and love of his life. He hadn’t even met you yet and he was already in love. Minji knows that Yoongi is going to love you in the best way that he can. He is going to pour everything into your relationship. He would do anything to make you happy. To make you smile. To protect you.

Minji is overwhelmed with happiness. She feels so lucky that she gets to witness you be loved by someone like Yoongi. Minji also knows that while you are scared of love, you give everything you have to your relationships too. You and Yoongi are alike in that way.

You don’t have many friends, a fact that you aren’t ashamed to admit. You don’t have many friends because you value friendship so much more than most people. When you commit to a relationship, platonic or romantic, you give everything to it in order to maintain it. You understand how much work it takes to maintain a relationship, so when you commit you hold yourself to a high bar.

Minji isn’t sure if there is anyone better out their for either of you, you both seem to fit together perfectly. But that is the whole idea of soulmates, right? That you complement each other completely. She wipes a tear from her eye which catches Namjoon’s attention. Ever the attentive boyfriend. He reaches over to grab Minji’s hand, knowing that quiet reassurance goes a long way.

“I’m so happy that I get to witness their love.” Minji’s voice holds so much emotion in it. Namjoon smiles at his emotional girlfriend. He is so in love with her, its almost overwhelming to look at her.

“He is going to love her so much.” Minji smiles back at Namjoon.

“He already does.”

#bts #bts fic #bts suga #kpop #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #bts x reader #soulmate au #fluff #namjoon #yoongi #suga #suga x reader #yoongi fic #suga fic #min yoongi #yoongi oneshot #oneshot

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excalibur-gone-missing · 8 months ago

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BTS Recommendations:

Others

#bts #bts imagines #jungkook #taehyung #jin #namjoon #jimin #hoseok #suga #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts army #fluff #angst #e2l #smut #soulmates #f2l #bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfction

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newtthetranswriter · 1 year ago

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Kuroo's right for once

Word count: 2841

Summary: When an appointment comes up and you miss the chance to potentially meet your soulmate, your best friend makes it his mission to try and find them for you. He is successful but you refuse to believe him, but boy are you shocked when said potential soulmate comes to your school for a training camp and your friend was right.

Paring: Koshi Sugawara x Nonbinary reader

Warnings: Talk of doctors and hrt, Kuroo being cocky

A/n: Hey everyone, I decided to write a lovely little piece about everyone's favorite Volleyball mom. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, I really am a sucker for a good soulmate au. Once again, the reader is nonbinary, but I tried to make it so you could imagine either a transmasculine individual or transfeminine individual, but it kinda leans more masculine. Any ways enjoy and special shout out to @keigotakamiz who asked to be tagged. I hope you enjoy, remember to hydrate or diedrate, and have a good day. REQUEST ARE OPEN

Being the manager of the Nekoma High Boy’s Volleyball team was great. I was surrounded by fun rambunctious guys who treated me like one of the guys. It’s rare for there to be any problems with the guys, because they all know that if they fuck with me Kuroo will likely beat their asses and Kenma will definitely hack their phones and/or computers to teach them a lesson. You see, I grew up with Kuroo and Kenma, we treated each other like siblings and they have been my number one supporters since I came out a few years ago. They always defended me when bigots tried to make fun of me or threaten me, though no one really took Kenma seriously till he gave some bully’s entire family a virus with just a simple text message.

They got even more protective when Kuroo and I turned 15 and our soulmarks started showing up. Soulmarks are strange, they reflect the passion and interest of your soulmate, and once you meet for the first time, or you both have your marks, your soulmate’s name appears somewhere in the mark. My mark contained a volleyball and some books, there were also a couple of food items that I assume are my soulmates favorite foods. Kuroo’s mark for the first few months was just some game consoles and not much else, until a volleyball also appeared on his mark. We had no clue who our soulmates were, but I had an assumption on who Kuroo’s was.

A year later when Kenam got his mark, my assumption was proven correct. When Kenma got his mark his name appeared on Kuroo’s arm with his mark, while wrapped around Kenmas wrist was Kuroo’s name. I was glad my best friends realized they were made for eachother, but it just made me more desperate to find my nerdy volleyball playing other half. To be honest I mainly became the volleyball team’s manager to find my soulmate. I figured if this was one of their interests I could find them easier if I work with a team.

Unfortunately after nearly three years of being the team's manager I have yet to meet my soulmate. I’ve met every player in the Fukurodani Academy Group, and while everyone is nice and fun to talk with, none of them are my soulmate. It felt like I was fighting a losing battle. That was until I found out that coach Nekomata agreed to hold a practice match with a school from Miyagi Prefecture. This would be my chance to meet other teams and potentially run into my soulmate.

Two days before we were set to leave for Miyagi, I was hanging out with Kuroo and Kenma. We were just relaxing as over the next week the boys would be playing an endless number of practice matches, and I was daydreaming about finally meeting my other half. I was lost in thought while Kenma was going on about a character in his new video game, my phone started buzzing. Looking down at it, I saw that it was my doctor's office. I quickly shushed the boy’s before picking up the phone.

“Hello” I was greeted by the person on the other end. “This is Kyoka from Dr. Ieiri’s office, I’m calling to speak to Y/n Y/l/n.” They asked.

“This is Y/n, how can I help you?” I was confused as to why my doctor’s office would call me, my next appointment isn’t for another month.

There was a small pause and the sound of typing before they responded. “I’m glad to have reached you. I’m calling because you were on a cancellation list for your next appointment, and it seems that someone has canceled and we are able to get you in sooner.” They typed some more presumably looking for the date and time. “Would you be able to come in this wednesday at 12pm?”

I paused for a second, I really had to think about it. Kuroo gave me a look that said what’s up. I quickly muted my end of the call after asking the person on the other end to give me a moment. “There’s an opening on Wednesday to see my doctor. I could go and get my questions answered about going on Hrt, but then I couldn’t go to Miyagi with the team.” I explained. There was a look of understanding that crossed both Kenma and Kuroo’s face. They both knew the internal debate I was having. “I know this is a great opportunity because I’ve been thinking about going on hrt for years. But this could be my only chance to meet my soulmate. I could always say I can't make it and wait for my appointment next month.” I said about to unmute the phone.

“Wait Y/n/n, you should really take this earlier appointment. You are right, this might be your only chance to go to Miyagi for a while, but you will meet your soulmate one day. If it makes you feel better Kenma and I can keep an eye out for someone who fits your mark and has a mark that fits you, while we’re there. It may feel like you have to pick between the two, but think of it as if the appointment goes well you can be one step closer to your best self when you do meet them.” Kuroo said, making valid points. While I would love to finally meet my soulmate, it will happen when the time is right. In the meantime I can keep working to become the me I want to be.

I gave a quick thank you before unmuting the phone. “Sorry I had to check my schedule, I can make that appointment time.” I finally answered. I received a ‘great see you on Wednesday at noon’ and then hung up the phone. I smiled at Kuroo, “again thank you for the encouragement. I’m sure I will have another chance to meet my soulmate soon. And you guys really don’t have to spend your time looking for my soulmate, you should enjoy your time making new friends, and playing volleyball.” I told the two.

“Whatever you say, but if I happen to find them I’m telling you right away.” Kuroo said. He then turned to the boy who had zoned out of the conversation. “Hey Kenma, you’ll help me look for Y/n’s soulmate right?” He asked his boyfriend. He just received an eye roll before the dual haired boy went back to his game. “He’ll totally help.” He said with a laugh. We then spent the next few hours chatting and then it was time for me to head home. I wished the boys goodnight before going home feeling excited that I could be one step closer to my dreamself by the end of the week.

By the time Wednesday rolled around I was beyond anxious, I had gotten up early to bid the volleyball team goodbye before they left for Miyagi. Getting another round of Kuroo saying he was going to ‘subtly’ look for my soulmate, before they finally boarded the bus and left for the week. Once they were gone, I went back home to have breakfast and get ready for the day.

After my appointment I couldn’t be happier, my doctor approved me going on hrt and sent out the prescription. It would take a few days before it was filled but I was so happy, I’m one step closer the best me I can be. I had messaged the team group chat telling everyone the good news, receiving a bunch of congratulations and memes of support from the team. I also noticed Kuroo saying he was happy for me but he hadn’t found my soulmate for me yet. That got the rest of the team going, most of them joining in saying they’d help. The others mostly Kenma and Yaku telling them that they’re dumb and not to try and mess with fate.

I texted with the boys in between their practice matches, getting multiple updates on the mission to find my other half, as well as multiple requests for me to just get a train ticket and come to Miyagi to save Yaku from the tribe of idiots, his words not mine. I sadly had to decline as I didn’t have the money for the ticket and had to be here in Tokyo when my prescription was ready. Eventually I bid the team good night and went to bed.

It had been four days since the boys left, today was the day that they were going against Nekoma’s old rival school Karasuno High. I sent the chat a good luck message before going about my day. It was Sunday so I finished up some homework, and then did a few chores around the house. Around 1 o’clock I got a message from Kuroo. I checked my phone and couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

From RoosterHead: I found him.

To RoosterHead: Sure you did. What makes you so sure that this poor guy you’re probably harassing is my soulmate.

From RoosterHead: First, what's with the sass. Second, I'm not harassing him. Third, his mark is the epitome of you.

To RoosterHead: What if my mark isn’t the epitome of him, have you even asked if he’s met his soulmate yet.

From RoosterHead: Yes I have, He has yet to meet his soulmate, who loves drawing, video games and is very passionate about their gender identity.

From RoosterHead: And before you say ‘that could be anyone in the LGBTQ’ one of the drawings on his arm is of Victor from Yuri on Ice.

To RoosterHead: That proves nothing, lots of trans and queer people love Yuri on Ice.

From RoosterHead: Fine don’t believe me. But I’m getting his number cause he’s actually a pretty chill dude, understands that school is important and does not slack off like someone I know.

I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me, leaving him on read. I went back to working on cleaning up my art desk. Throughout the day I received texts from nearly the whole team telling me that this third year from Karasuno was definitely my soulmate. It got to the point that I just muted my notifications so I didn’t have to deal with their pestering. Eventually it got late enough that I finally went to bed, not completely ready to deal with Kuroo and his bullshit when the team gets back to Tokyo.

It’s been two months since the trip to Miyagi that Kuroo swears he found my soulmate on and it’s the only thing he wants to talk about half the time. Even Kenma has started telling him to shut up about it. Kenma has even threatened to stop talking to him at all if he didn’t stop trying to convince me that some setter in a different prefecture was my soulmate. The only way to know for sure is for me to actually meet him face to face and the chances of that happening were slim to none. Or at least that’s what I thought until the other day at practice.

“Hey Y/nnnn, I got great news.” I heard the sing-song voice of my best friend.

I rolled my eyes, he was probably gonna either tell me he gives up trying to convince me or by some miracle I’ll be meeting this guy who is supposedly my soulmate. “I swear to Victor Nikiforov, if you pester me about this soulmate thing I will shove a volleyball so far up your ass it’ll look like you’re pregnant.” I said with a completely straight face, earning a chuckle from Yaku as he walked by.

Kuroo gave a gasp of shock. “First it’s rude to assume things because it makes an ass out of you and me. Secondly I was just going to tell you that Karasuno is going to be coming to the training camp this weekend. I wasn’t going to bring up the soulmate thing, but now that you mention it. This will be a great opportunity for me to prove that I did in fact find your soulmate, and I will be expecting a full thank you and apology for doubting me, including chocolate.” He responded with a cocky smile.

“For the last time Kuroo, I doubt this guy is my soulmate. But if it will shut you up I’ll keep an open mind, if you happen to be right you get a thank you that’s it.” I said getting up to help clean the gym as the team captain was now too busy praising himself for his so called ‘successful job of convincing me’.

It was finally Saturday and the Karasuno team would be arriving shortly, and as much as I didn’t want Kuroo to be right, I couldn’t help but be nervous. There was a strong possibility that someone on the team was my soulmate. I waited with the rest of the team outside of the school as the bus pulled up in front of us. The first pair to climb off the bus was a bald kid and a shorter guy with two toned hair, their first response was to yell about the sky tree while looking at a completely normal steel tower. This had Kuroo doubled over cackling at their stupidity.

Shortly after them more boys started to file off the bus. The one that caught my eye was a boy with gray hair wearing a white t-shirt with a bag over his shoulder. He was talking with a taller guy with a beard and long hair who I assumed was the ace I had briefly heard about after their trip to Miyagi. I noticed his soulmark as he got closer to us, it had the image of an open sketchbook showing a detailed drawing of Victor from Yuri on Ice, just like Kuroo had said. It also had color pencils laid out in a pattern that resembled the Transgender and Non-binary pride flags. I was starting to see why Kuroo thought this guy may be my soulmate. There was only one thing left to do.

As the pair approached us Kuroo recovered from his laughing fit. He stood up straight and started to introduce me to boys. “Y/n this is Asahi Azumane, the ace of Karasuno. And this is Koshi Sugawara, Third year setter, and your soulmate.” He said so nonchalantly that I nearly punched him in his smug face. I watched as Sugawara blushed slightly. I assume Kuroo has been texting him with the same notion that he knew who his soulmate was. “Asahi why don’t we leave these two, and get you guys settled in.” He said, sending a sly smile my way before dragging the stuttering ace away from me and his friend.

“I’m sorry about him, ever since he met you guys he’s been insistent that he met my soulmate. Anyway it’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/n Y/l/n.” I said introducing myself.

He smiled at me before raising his hand to shake mine. “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/l/n. As Kuroo said, I'm Koshi Sugawara, but you can call me Suga.” I returned the hand shake.

Everything seemed normal until I felt a small tingling sensation in my wrist. I looked at it and watched as his name appeared across one of the books on my arm. It seemed Sugawara was experiencing the same thing, as he watched his arm in amazement. After the shock wore off, we made eye contact. “Well shit, I guess I have to apologize to Kuroo for once in my life.” I said in a sarcastic tone. Suga responded with a laugh before we started talking about our respective marks.

We had been chatting about the meaning of the pride flags that were subtly placed throughout Suga’s mark when the door to the school opened again. “Hey Love birds, as happy as I am to have been right, we kinda have practice matches to get to and Karasuno need’s their setter.” Kuroo said, poking his head through the door. I quickly flipped him off, earning a chuckle and Kuroo slipping back into the building.

“Sorry about him Suga, but he’s right we should get back inside, we can talk more at lunch.” I said as we made our way back inside.

He just nodded, before speaking. “It’s fine. And we can definitely talk at lunch as long as the guys actually leave me alone, they’re all going to be so excited that I finally found you. Only a couple of the guys have found their soulmates, so they get really excited when one of us does.” He explained. As we were about to split up so he could get changed into something more suited for playing sports he said something that caught me off guard. “Oh and call me Koshi.” And with that he disappeared into the locker room.

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu soulmate au #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #sugawara x reader soulmate au #sugawara x reader #suga x reader #sugawara koushi #soulmate au

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moccahobi · 11 months ago

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Tangled Mess Masterlist

Summary: Hoseok has a gift. He can see the red strings that tie soulmates together. All his life he’s seen them and has seen the ways just about everyone seems to disregard them. Jaded to the prospect of finding his soulmate and confused by the idea of romance and soulmates, he is lost for what to do when he meets his own soulmate in the most inopportune ways. Yoongi has a skill: emotional repression. He knows what he wants in life but feels unable to do anything to get many of those goals. Isolated and frustrated, he feels like he is trapped in his room, triaging his life. The two watch from the sidelines, rooted in place and unable to do anything to bring them closer to love and connection.

Pairings: Hoseok x GN Reader, Yoongi x Jungkook

Genre: Soulmate AU, Grad School AU, Young Professional AU, Angst, Fluff

Series Warnings: A breakup

Planned Schedule: Wednesdays

Masterlist last updated: 2/4/2024

A/N: I may get behind on updating links, but all the fics and the masterlist will have the tag "series: tangled mess" if the links aren't updated~

Part 1: The Meeting

Part 2: Game Night 1

Part 3: Tight Elastic

Part 4: Something's Cooking

Part 5: Solitare

Part 6: Game Night 2

Part 7: Coffee and Conversations

Part 8: Sheep Farm

Part 9: Together

Part 10: Our Place

Part 11: To-Go Food

Part 12: Changes

Part 13: Other's Secrets

Part 14:

#bts fanfic #bts soulmate au #bts mxr #bts hoseok #bts jhope #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts supernatural au #bts masterlist #bts fluff #bts angst #yoonkook au #bts jungkook #bts yoongi #bts suga #series: tangled mess

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myg-butterfly · 1 year ago

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masterlist

masterpost here!

kim seokjin

coming soon ...

kim namjoon

close to you (drabble)

fluff, established relationship

summary: you're supposed to finish reading this novel – instead, namjoon reads you like a book

min yoongi

how many things (one-shot)

angst/fluff, hurt/comfort, f2l

summary: yoongi invites you out to a party with him, and in trust, you say yes. but what happens when you lose him in the crowd, just to find him again with someone else by his side? in the midst of panic and longing, you wonder how many things he thinks about before he gets to you.

jung hoseok

coming soon …

park jimin

spy!au (two-shot)

angst/fluff, hurt/comfort, e2l

goodnight, love

good morning, it's now tomorrow

summary: things get rough when you and jimin get paired to solve a case together — why do you hate jimin again?

kim taehyung

coming soon …

jeon jungkook

coming soon …

ot7

nothing new

angst, eventual fluff, injured!reader

summary: You get hurt and have to find a replacement. You just didn't think that replacement extended to your relationship with the BTS members. Will they still want you when you're nothing new?

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writersrealmbts · 2 years ago

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Clearwater Springs: Part 13

Description: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Warnings: idk

Posted: 04/26/2023

Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts, soulmate au

2,029 words

A/N: Back to surveys, whoo

You weren't sure if it was Hoseok seeing the future or just a matter of taking care of things since they were taking care of everything else, but the front flowerbeds had been cleared and fresh dirt turned up, ready for new plants. You were assuming it was Hoseok since another flowerbed toward the back had been established with a ring of stream-smoothed stones as the outline and the sod cut away. Right where you were thinking of putting the garden you were originally planning on.

The boys themselves appeared to be on a break, sipping water or lemonade or whatever and sitting on the grass, as the three of you arrived home.

Jungkook hopped up. "You're back!"

"We are, sit back down," you admonished, laughing at his antics. "Look, we got the prettiest little tree! I saw it and I had to have it."

Continue reading on Ao3...

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Previous ~ Next

Masterlist. Clearwater Springs Masterpost.

Post Chapter 12 Survey Link

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Taglist: @kerikaaria @killcomet @letsreadbts @taestannie @dwaaaaaaaaa @missmoxxiesworld @cheese123344 @insfirebunny @aphot-c @chim-possible @psiphidragon @i-like-puppy-mg @daddyjoonie @softescapism @amammietje @4evahevah @slytherclawwarrior @kittylovsu @forever-once-gone @unlikelylittlemiss @mailani-annie @daydreambrliever @miss-fawn @jinternational-playboy @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @the-obsessive-fangirl @mysticalpostobject @reinaxans @writtenmemoriesau @sunnysoliculus @carolinexkpop @kassrole @discombobulatedhuman @londongirl2011 @xyahrinx @wayward-student-philosopher @zae007live @hyunwoo-of-eclipse @arujee @i-amtrash @xyahrinx @lovelyaliengirl

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casuallyimagining · 1 year ago

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Set Me Free || myg (teaser)

Summary: Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to? Word Count: TBD (at least 10k. unclear if this is a one-shot or not) Genre: friends to enemies to lovers, supernatural au, witch & familiar au, soulmate au, angst, fluff, more to be added Warnings: death of a parent (brief mention), drinking, soulmate breakup, more to be added

Notes: I don't really know when I might be posting this. I'm still in the process of writing it, but it feels about halfwayish done, and I'm excited about it, so I wanted to share!

teaser under the cut

His words stung, and until then, you weren’t quite sure why. Rejection. Not just of how you lived, and who he was, and how things had always been. But of you. Yoongi was your familiar, you were destined to be together in some way since you were toddlers and the bond gem first appeared. Not all witches and familiars were in romantic relationships–your parents were, sure, and Yoongi’s parents–but plenty of them had other partners, lives separate from each other. Platonic soulmates navigating the world together.

Now he wanted you gone.

“You want to be free that badly?” By some miracle, your voice sounded positively venomous, even though you felt like you could crumble at any moment. “Fine.”

“Wh-”

Without a word, you tossed the bracelet to the ground. Yoongi’s eyes widened as it hit and the jewel cracked. For good measure, you stepped on it, crushed it into dust. There was a pitiful swirl of blue magic that puffed up from the dirt. When you moved your foot, there was nothing left of the bond gem or its chain.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi’s eyes were glassy when you finally looked at him. He looked almost as crushed as you felt. “What the fuck?”

“You’re free.” And this time, you couldn’t hide your sadness behind your anger.

I am very curious to know your thoughts on this. I'm so fucking excited to post. stupid grad school is getting in the way of me being able to devote 100% of my time to it, but god I'm trying so hard to get it done.

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sweetestofchaos · 1 year ago

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Blackthorn | M.YG | Present Day

Moving to another country for a better job opportunity, brings Keena to a world that still dabbles in the practice of magic. It is there that she finds Yoongi, the owner of Seesaw, a magical café who helps her in a time of need. As the two start to become closer, someone from Yoongi’s past resurfaces and threatens the happiness of his life.

Pairing: Baker!Yoongi x Teacher!Keena | Gang Leader!Agust x Teacher!Keena | Side Ships of Mem x Mem Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut AU: Soulmate, Strangers to Lovers, Modern Fantasy, Organized Crime, Twin Warnings: Nudity, Physical Violence, Blood, Criminal Activity, Drugs, Murder, Main Character Death(s)...Chapters have individual warnings Rating: 18+ (overall) - Chapters will have individual ratings Status: In the Works CWC: 0

“Love is shown more in deeds than in words.” - Saint Ignatius

Banner and divider credit @itaeewon

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Namjoon Teaser

Recap

#bts gang au #suga fic #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #bts fantasy au #blackthorn modern day masterlist #baker!yoongi #gang boss!agust #bts soulmate au #yoongi x oc #agust x oc

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adabisworld · 2 years ago

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Stars to my moon |chapter-8|

Genre: Soulmateau! Idolau!Angst;fluff;drama;romance, polyamorousAu!

Pairing:ot7×f!OC

Summary: He took big strides, halting right in front of me as he bends to my eye level, causing me lean back a little. I could feel his breath fanning my face, looking into his eyes, I could see a storm of anger into them.

"We have been nothing but considerate of you and your feelings, while all you've given in return is rejection and cold shoulder since day one." He grits out.

when Selene's 22nd birthday doesn't go as she expected, her world turns upside down, making her resent her soulmates. Will she ever come to accept them in her life or will she continue to run away holding onto her past love?

Bouncing his leg up and down, chewing on the pen, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening across the hall.

With a sigh, he slams his pen down on the table, getting up to pace around the room.

Taehyung was trying to concentrate on his music, wanting to take his mind off the fact that the other members were in Selene's new apartment, trying to help her settle in, but the thought of everyone with her: enjoying, and making new memories was unsettling to him.

Not because he didn't want to share her or was possessive over her, but because he wasn't there with them, he won't be included in those memories.

Setting his ego aside, he finally gives in to the urge to stalk across the hall. However, voices could be heard even outside her apartment since the door wasn't locked. And Taehyung could perfectly recognize those voices and what they were saying as he approached the place.

"Hey, is this you?" Jimin asks, most probably to Selene.

"What? Heyy! Give that back! You're not supposed to see that just yet!"

"Oh no, No. Others need to see this." Jimin says, just in time for Taehyung to watch the further occurrence from the doorway. The scene had his steps halted and jaw clenching.

Jimin was running around the messy sitting room while Selene chased him, swearing at him while they both laughed. They looked like a normal, happy couple there, and Taehyung was happy for his friend but what had him step back and turn around to go back to his own place was not the thought of giving them privacy but the fact that, he too, wanted to be included in her life but was afraid of the rejection.

This wasn't the first time he had caught Selene with his members and one of her other soulmates. Just this morning, Selene was happily cooking together with Jin; the way her aura glowed with serenity and happiness was a rare sight to see. One he had never had the luck to see before then. Not just that, but he had also seen her talking with Namjoon at the ungodly hour of the night. Both, getting to know each other and sharing their troubles. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop but overheard that her mother was the one who convinced her to give them a chance. He was so thankful for her mother but couldn't help being jealous of their relationship. Out of all of them, Namjoon would be the one who knows Selene even just a little.

Since tomorrow she had not but glanced at him one time when they held hands to not get sick. And now seeing her like this with Jimin- he understands that the problem is not about them being her soulmates anymore. It was HIM being her soulmate. Lord knows what he has done besides giving her the piece of mind that she desperately needed.

With an anxious mind and furious steps, he gets back to his room and falls into his twirling chair. Mind going over the possibilities of confronting her for the not-so-subtle ignorance of his existence. Because he had to, or he would lose his mind pondering over the why.

The only question remaining was HOW? He breathes out a sigh of annoyance. He didn't want to do anything that he would regret later. Something that would cause an even bigger rift between the two.

Taehyung gets up from the chair, running his hand through his hair. The sound of footsteps coming towards his room with a huff interrupts his brainstorming. He peeks out of his room to find out who the sound belonged to, finding his hyung searching for something in a hurry.

"Hyung! What are you doing?" He asks, fully stepping out of his room.

"The company called; they need me in. And I just can't find my fucking will to go. All I wanted to do was sleep for a while." Yoongi says with a huff making Taehyung crack up.

Yoongi; after having woken up late in the morning, got the news of getting the day off to help Selene settle in from Jin, and needless to say, he was ecstatic. And no, not to help her. But for the bliss that he will get sleeping after having done so.

"Forget that. What are you doing here when everyone is there having fun, huh?" His Hyung asks with a pointed look.

He looks down and shakes his head. "What does it matter, hyung? If I am there or not?"

"You know it does. Everyone wants you there."

"Not her. She doesn't want me there."

"And why do you say that? Has she said something to you?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

He laughs, "She'll say something to me when she acknowledges my existence. That's the point, Hyung. She is acting like I don't exist. She has gone and made amends with every one of her soulmates except me. She doesn't want anything to do with me. She's got everything she would want in them anyways, the brain, the beauty, and the heart. Where would I even fit in? There is no place left."

"Don't say that. You need to give her some time. She might still be a little upset at you, or maybe she is afraid just like you. Don't go jumping to conclusions." Yoongi consoles him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Taehyung nods, not believing him fully but letting the hope creep in.

"Now, let's go. Everyone is waiting." Yoongi takes his hand and leads him to her apartment.

Stopping at the door, "You go in. I'll join you guys for dinner after." Saying this, Yoongi disappears down the hall.

With a sigh, he musters up the courage to bear getting ignored by his soulmate again. Gulping down the hurt and anger, he tries to stay calm and impassive as he steps into the apartment, not letting his steps falter.

But, as he steps into the apartment a second time that day the picture playing in front of him is much worse than before. And he broke.

Selene tastes the food from the spoon and then forwards the spoon to Jungkook, who starts jumping with mad brows after tasting it. Making Selene nervous,

"What is it? You don't like it? is it too spicy?"

"Aani aani." He retaliates.

Namjoon laughs as he shakes his head. "He always does this when he likes the food. It's his way of expressing that the food is good."

She laughs, and others don't miss this opportunity to tease the maknae.

"AArghhhh... Jkayyy..."

Jungkook hides behind Jin, hands touching his ears softly; something he does when he's shy, with his bunny smile. They all have this belief that Jin's broad shoulders can save them from anything in the world. I know, Funny. But cute.

Back to the topic at hand, The reason Taehyung broke was not their smiles nor the family-like atmosphere but the fact that Selene is even friendly and smiley towards someone who is not her soulmate. That means the problem is him only. Maybe he went too far when he called her a bitch, but well, she was acting like it. And he won't let regret fill his heart. He did what he did for his best friend, and they are happy now. Trying. Because of that. He just needs to find a way to mend his relationship with her.

Taking a deep breath in, he approaches them. His heart, beating fast. The hope that maybe she will acknowledge him or just pass him a small smile was there. But well, what is the point of false hope, right? Because she didn't. As he approached, Jimin comes by his side, talking about what just took place, oblivious that he had already seen it and let it scratch at his heart.

Everyone takes a seat, curiously watching Selene cook with Jin and Jungkook helping her.

"She is making something from her culture. Gazpacho?" Jimin looks at Selene, confirming if he said it right.

"Gazpacho and Paella (Pa-yay-ah)" she teaches him and he repeats it back to Taehyung.

He nods. One thing he notices is not once during this exchange did Selene look at him directly. She corrected Jimin with a small polite smile and went back to doing her thing. He closes his fist, trying to drink down the hurt.

The cooking goes on, Selene doing most of the work, with Jin and Jungkook teasing and fighting each other in the back. These guys really do start anywhere, but what can one say? That's what makes their relationship exceptional.

Hoseok and Namjoon talk as the latter say something that makes Hobi laugh so hard; he starts clapping his hand.

"Care to share?" Selene raises an eyebrow at them. A small smile played on her lips.

Hoseok shakes his head, making the motion of sealing his lips. All the while trying to contain his laughter. Namjoon hangs his head, also trying to hide his dimpled smile.

Meanwhile, Taehyung had to chew on the hurt and anger he was feeling. He is going to ask her tonight why she is behaving like this to him. He can not be in the dark anymore. His patience has run out. He now just needs to find an appropriate time for it.

--------

Trying to ignore Taehyung has turned out to be a much harder task than I thought it would. His presence is big. Even when he quietly sits on the side, he attracts attention. But that is something I can't give in to.

The way I have seen it, Taehyung has had some problems with me since the start. why wouldn't he? the way I treated them, ignored our connections, no one deserves that kind of behavior. And I am not ready to broach that subject with him yet because I fear he might reject me. I suspect nothing major will happen to me if one or two of my soulmates out of seven refuses to be with me, but still, he holds a piece of my soul. The puzzle of my heart will not be completed if even one of them refuses to be with me.

The quiet, frowny look he wears whenever he is near me is painful to watch. How bad would you feel if your presence became the reason for the frown on your soulmate's face? I don't ever want to experience this again. But the connection between our souls has been pulling my gaze towards him and even with my resistance I had sneaked a handful of looks at him whenever he wasn't looking at me. Better yet, glaring at me.

That's what it has been like with him. He gives me glares, and I try my best to ignore them in order to avoid the hurt.

I sigh softly, making up an excuse to leave the kitchen while the dish simmers. Asking Jungkook and Jin to see it doesn't get burnt.

With their nod, I make my way toward my new bedroom. The decor is all beige and white. On the shelves above my bed sits my plants, giving the room a home-y calm vibe. I take a seat on the side of my bed, smoothening out its wrinkles. I wish someone could smooth out the wrinkles in my and Taehyung's relationship just like that.

I get up, looking for my phone. Maybe my mother could help me and give me some advice on how to approach him.

I look on and inside my bedside table but have no luck; I move onto the shelves, my closet, and under the pillow, but I don't find it anywhere. Where the fuck did I put my fucking phone!

A sigh of frustration leaves my mouth. I should ask one of the guys to call on it. I never put my mobile on silent, so it should be easy to find.

I look down at my feet, carrying me out of my bedroom. God, I need to go to the salon. My toenails are in very poor shape. I huff out at my own ignorance. I never let my salon date pass.

Just as I look back up again, a hand clasps around my own, and I am suddenly being pulled into the dark hallway, opposite of where I intended of going, might I add.

The person slams me against the wall, one hand still holds my own, pressing it against the wall beside my head, and the other rests above my head.

"Wha-" my curse dies out on my tongue when I see who the culprit is.

Collecting myself, I ask, "What are you doing!?" trying to break my hand free from his grip.

"No." He interrupts me, refusing to let go of his hold on me. "What are YOU doing, huh?"

"What!?" I ask at his accusing tone, oblivious of what the fuck he is on about,

Gritting his teeth, he answers, "Why are you ignoring me?"

Hearing his question, I scoff, going into defensive mode. "Excuse me! I am ignoring YOU?"

"Yes."

Alright! If he wants to pretend that he wasn't the one acting all prideful and ignorant before, I'll play along. He's going to be the one regretting either way.

"Well, don't you think that might be because you deserve it? You don't think you did something that would lead to me ignoring you, Taehyung?" I ask him absurdly, still trying to get my hand out of his grip, which he still refuses to let go

"No. I don't think so. All I did was put some sense into you and pushed you in the right direction." He gets closer to me. So close, I can feel his breath on my face.

"Reallyyy!? Excuse me if my memory doesn't serve me right, but weren't you the one who called me a bitch?" I cock my head.

"Um, Weren't you the one acting like a bitch and planning to leave your soulmates?" He throws it back at me. Offending me, boy.

"You all were practically strangers to me! What the fuck had you expected!? I would bear out my heart to you, trust you and accept you all in a matter of an eyeblink!!? Just because you are my soulmates!? That is ABSURD!" I breathe heavily, my heart racing fast.

All my life, I have avoided confrontations. Talking about what I think is hard for me, showing any emotions is a no-go. It is something that I just can't do. Eric was there all the way. Still, it wasn't easy for me to completely be vulnerable in front of him. But this man! He just knows how to push my buttons. God, He is making me talk, and I do not like it. Still, I won't stop now. Not now, This has to be said.

"NO!" he slams the wall beside my head, getting more close to my face; I have to look sideways to avoid contact as he speaks, gritting his teeth. "IF you were acting all cold and ignorant because you wanted to take time to KNOW us before committing and diving into this, it would have been fine; it even would have been welcomed. But you did all that not to know us but to push us away to get back with your past lover! How had YOU expected us to react!? Did you think we would be okay with you stomping all over us to get back to your boyfriend? The same boyfriend who left You for his soulmate. Do you really think he was worthy of your love and sacrifice?"

"No! Don't you dare bring Eric into this. Whatever happened, he is still my friend, and he left me because he cared for all the lives that would have been affected by this, as in Yours! Also, I have never wanted ill for any of you. I would have sealed our bond, and we all could have been happy with the ones who we would choose."

"You really think we could have chosen someone else when we knew you were out there, that at last, we were going to be together because you're the one destiny wants us to be with." He asks, his eyes going soft. Looking into them, for a second, I forget that we were fighting; this is the first time he has let me see the vulnerability in his eyes, and something tells me being vulnerable isn't easy for him as well.

Looking away, I say, "Anyway, moving on. After talking with my mother, I have decided to give this a chance. so why are you bringing this up again when I have already apologized?"

"That's the thing Selene, You have apologized and mended your relationship with everyone. Everybody except me. How do you think I feel about that?" His eyes gave out an emotion I couldn't put my finger on.

"I don't know. I didn't think you'd care." Shrugging, I tell him honestly.

"Why did you think that?"

"Because you don't like me from day one, and you've been ignoring me like a plague, and you are always glaring at me. What else am I supposed to think? You don't act that way when you care, Taehyung." I sigh as I tell him.

The way he has been acting has hurt me, even if I don't have the right to say so. I know I hurt them first, but I get it now, and I want to know them now. And his unspoken rejection stung.

"You think I am ignoring you?" He asks, a bit surprised as he finally softens his grip on my hand, backing away just a little.

"Yes, obviously." Even when I know that I could free my hand now that his grip has loosened, I don't. I let him hold my hand. Craving the little connection our souls are getting from our little encounter.

"What makes you think that?" Pure confusion displayed in his eyes.

"I don't know? The fact that you never talk to me? Leave the room when I enter? Avoid making any eye contact?"

"I don't avoid eye contact; you do. And I don't talk to you because you are always preoccupied with someone. And I leave the room because-" he abruptly stops. His expressions tell me he said something he thought he shouldn't have. Still, I push.

"Because..? Because what Taehyung? Because you don't want to be near a bitch like me? Because you don't want me near your friends? Because you think my personality is so hideous that you can't look at it for-"

"Because it hurts, dammit!" Shouting, he interrupts me. "Because it hurts to see you all smiley and happy with the others and ignoring me. Even with Jungkook, you act like you guys are such good friends while you avoid any interaction with me, your own soulmate." He whispers, making me completely shut up.

When I don't say anything, he looks up with misty eyes. "I know you don't want me. Why would you, when you have everything you could ever want in those three? They're the brains, beauty, and heart. But you're the only soulmate I have. And I want to be with you, even if I have to be at the bottom of your list."

Hearing him breaks my heart; I didn't know he felt like that. I never intended for him to question himself. Freeing my hand from his grip, I touch his cheeks, making his eyes stay on mine. "No. You never were and never will be at the bottom of my list, Taehyung, because there is no list. I never approached you because I thought you didn't want me. I want all of you. All of you hold a piece of my soul; it won't be complete if I don't have you."

Taehyung doesn't say anything for a minute, only looking into my eyes. As if to ensure himself of the sincerity behind my words. When he finds what he is looking for, he shuts his eyes as he comes closer and rests his head against mine, hands covering my own that are still holding his face.

"Thank you," he whispers. "I really needed to hear that. You have no idea how much I had been thinking about it, but to see that you don't feel or think that way is a huge relief like a weight lifted off my shoulders."

"Well, it's true. And stop looking down at yourself. You are the brain, beauty, and heart, as well as much more. And I am sorry. I should have come to talk to you instead of making any assumptions. I would very much like to know you, Kim Taehyung. If you will let me." I whisper back. Completely baring my heart out in front of him. Because he had as well, and I want him to know that he will not be the only one making efforts in this relationship. We need to start on the right foot again, and that's what I want to make this into. A fresh start.

"I wouldn't want anything more. Thank you. And I'm sorry for calling you a bitch too." He apologizes in his deep, hoarse voice, sending my stomach a tingle.

"I forgive you. I kinda was being a bitch that day." I chuckle, and he follows.

"Yeah, kinda." he says with a teasing smile.

We keep staring into each other's eyes, forgetting that a world outside us exists.

After a couple of minutes pass of us drinking each other, I whisper, "We should get back. Everyone must be wondering."

"Uh-hmm, We should." he agrees but doesn't move.

"Taehyung!" I push at his chest slightly.

"Alright." He backs away but takes my hand, intertwining our fingers, as we move toward the kitchen.

It has been the most intimate and vulnerable moment I have had with any of my soulmates. And I am glad it was with him, since we both are afraid to be vulnerable.

I laugh, remembering how fast we went from screaming at each other to stripping off our defenses and exposing our thoughts.

"What?" he asks, curious to know the reason behind my amusement.

"Nothing. Come." I shake my head, leading him down the hall.

----------------------------------------------------

"Can someone please call and ask Suga Hyung if he'll be here by dinner?" Jungkook asks, too eager to eat the food after having a taste.

"He said he'll be here; why do you want to disturb him?" Jin says, making the younger hit his chest and thus, starting a banter.

"I am hungryyy!! And when Suga hyung gets into work, the concept of time doesn't exist for him. Just ask!!" He whines, not having the patience to savor the delicious taste of the dish again.

"If you are too eager, call and ask him yourself. I am not going to make him annoyed again after last time."

At this, Jungkook pulls out his doe eyes, shining so brightly suddenly, as if on command.

Jin sighs in defeat, "You know, you take advantage of that too much."

He does his bunny smile, happy at his win.

"Alright, but I won't make the call. Let's make the only person he won't be annoyed by call him." Jungkook nods. And they both, at the same time, scream, "J-Hopeeeee!!!!"

The latter jumps at the sudden loud voice, "Yah! I am in the same room as you; Why are you shouting?"

"Hoba, call yoongi and ask him when he'll be home." Jin orders in a stern tone.

"Hyung? Did something happen?" Hoseok asks, a little worried since Jin doesn't use his hyung card much, but when he does, they all get serious.

"Yeah, I need to talk to him. Call him." Jin says and turns around, winking at Jungkook, who gives him a thumbs up for the acting.

He looks at his Hosoek hyung, fumbling to get his phone out in a hurry to make the call. He knows his Yoongi hyung wouldn't scold him either. It's just that he is too lazy to call.

Snickering at the thought of their conversation, he opens up a packet of chips Selene offered him to get his mind off dinner until it's served.

He scans the room, observing everyone as he sits on the hand of the couch beside Jin.

Jimin and Namjoon, talking among themselves as the latter says something to make the former surprised. Jimin's lips jut out, and his eyes go round.

Jin is talking to Selene and Hoseok, but the lady's mind isn't on what Jin is talking about but on something else. She nods, having no idea Jin is spewing about how he regrets the one time when Jimin asked him to bet if the Dolphins can breathe underwater.

He follows her line of sight, only to find that her attention wasn't occupied by something but rather someone.

On the sofa across her sits Taehyung. Both soulmates, not being able to keep their eyes off each other. Jungkook could practically see them radiating tension.

But that's when it hits him. Last he knew, they weren't really on good terms with each other, so how the sudden change? He hadn't seen them talking. And it's like a light turned on in his head; he recalls how both of them, so conveniently, disappeared at the same time.

A mischievous glint appears in his eyes, ready to tease his brother.

"V Hyung?" He calls but fails to catch the attention of his hyung as he only hums and never looks his way.

He grins as he clears his throat, ready to call him once again a little louder. "Taehyung Hyung!" And just as he wanted, not only Taehyung looks his way but the others as well. Curious as to what made the maknae raise his voice.

"Where did you run off to before?"

He watches as Taehyung gives him a look of confusion before opening his mouth, "What?"

"You ran off somewhere before. You don't remember?" He quirks an eyebrow: silently challenging him.

The latter furrows his brows, and then suddenly remembering, he goes, "Oh, Ahem! I went to the restroom. Why?"

"Nothing, you were just gone for quite a while. What were you doing for so long?" He questions further.

"He must have been taking a big shit," but instead of him, Jin answers, making the room burst out in laughter. Taehyung and Selene join in as well, albeit fake.

"Yeah, you caught me, Hyung." He chuckles nervously.

"There is no reason to be ashamed of that Taehyung-ah. We all take shits." Jin says, making everyone snicker again.

"Oh, and Selene! Where had you run off? You took your time as well." Jungkook stirs the bowl again.

"Oh uh, I uh, went to um call, my mom, yes! But I uh, couldn't find my phone, so I was just looking for it." Selene stammers, continuously looking between him and Taehyung, not keeping eye contact with him. As if, if she did, she'll be caught red-handed.

"Oh? But your phone was in the kitchen with you, no? So why would you go look for it in the bedroom?" He quirks an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't go to call my mother. I was in the bedroom when I thought to call and check on her, and thus my search began."

"And why did you go to your bedroom, exactly?" He questions with his hand on his face, fingers rubbing his chin in thought.

"Oh! Quit bothering them, Jungkook-ah. We know what you are trying to do, and we all know what happened." Namjoon speaks, not having the heart to see them more flustered.

At his statement, Selene looks down, while Taehyung stares at Selene with his boxy smile.

"Really? Is it that obvious?" Selene asks.

"No, not for the blind people. But unfortunately, we can see, and you guys have practically been leering at each other ever since you came back." Jimin says, chuckling as he elbows Taehyung.

"Who came back?" a voice calls out, making everyone's head snap in its direction.

"Argh! Finally. How long do you take!? I have been waiting for forever!" Jungkook says as he stands up, and instead of greeting Suga, he runs past him, patting him in the back and towards the kitchen. Grateful for not having to wait any longer.

"Yah! Jungkook! I'm the eldest; I will be having the first plate!" Jin calls out, running not far behind him.

"First try to keep up, old man!"

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sopejinsunflower · 6 months ago

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2024.001.020: From Embers to Flames

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Hoseok is restless.

He had tossed and turned so much in his bed that the sheet was all crumpled up and his blanket had somehow ended up on the floor in a pile. He’s staring at a spot on the ceiling, one arm resting across his forehead. He can’t sleep. Everytime he closed his eyes, it felt like he was sinking into the mattress straight down into a void he might never be able to climb back out of. So he kept his eyes open, blinking emptily.

That’s when the door is gently pushed open and Hoseok barely turns to look, confident that it’s Karma - the cat has more free reign of the house than any of them. Only when he felt the bed dipped from the weight did he finally raise his head (and eyebrows). The curtain is opened and the moonlight shines in through the window so it didn’t take long for him to see it’s you.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask in a voice barely a whisper.

Hoseok sits up, criss-crossing his legs under him. “I’d say the feeling is mutual since you’re here.” He smiles, patting the empty spot next to him. You crawl your way over to mirror the way he sits, knee to knee, staring straight ahead out the window. He watches silently the way your chest softly moves up and down and how your eyelashes barely graze the top of your cheeks each time you blink. It has always been something you’ve been insecure about, those short lashes, but Hoseok won’t trade them for anything else. It’s funny to Hoseok how you might change bodies and even gender for each cycle but all these little things would somehow remain similar.

The both of you sit there in silence, Hoseok patiently waiting for you to speak first. The sinking feeling he had earlier is gone and he wonders if it’s because you’re here. Of course it is. He’s just happy to finally be at ease. He leans back against the headboard, watching your side profile.

But what came out of your mouth next felt like a punch to the gut: “I feel like we’ve met before. In another life.”

Hoseok sucks in a breath.

~~~

I turn around to look at him, squinting in the semi darkness to read his face. I didn’t have to look too hard; the answer on his face was clear as day.

He remains silent, looking pale even in the moonlight. I purse my lips and turn away, remembering the promise I made: no questions until Sunday. I nodded to myself before turning back to him. “Forget I said that,” I say, automatically reaching out to touch his knee. “It’s fine, Hoseok.”

I watch his eyes flit over to the knee I’m touching and I quickly remove my hand but Hoseok is faster, covering my hand with his own, warm palm resting fully over my fingers and knuckles, gripping ever so slightly. He scoots closer, eyes downcast, trained on his hand enveloping mine, forehead furrowed. When he looks back up again, there’s a softness in his gaze as he exhales slowly and rests his head back against the headboard.

“Stay here tonight?”

I stare at his hand covering mine, contemplating for a moment whether the answer on the tip of my tongue is the right one. Sighing, I look back up to him. “Not tonight, maybe.” I pull away and climb off the bed. “Goodnight, Hoseok.”

I avoid looking at him in fear that the disappointed look on his face might make me change my mind, hurrying out of the room without another backward glance. It’s only until I cross the threshold of my own bedroom when I realised not looking back had been the wrong thing to do because the hand that wrapped around my upper arm came as such a surprise I let out a yelp loud enough for Karma to jump on all fours from his perch on the new cat tree.

“Hoseok!” I gasp, my heart hammering. “You scared me.”

To his credit, he does look guilty but the smile that spreads on his lips tells me that he found my reaction funny. I swat at his chest, pushing him away. “It’s not funny,” I grumble.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I thought you knew I was right behind you.”

I glare at him, pouting. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok replies, slightly offended. “I just-”

He pauses and I arch an eyebrow, waiting.

He licks his lips before trying again, pupils shaking with nervousness as he stares right back at me. “I just…want you close. Tonight.”

~~~

Hoseok can hear the air that you suck in, can somehow even hear the way your heart doubled its pace as the both of you stand there in the middle of the room, staring at each other in a sort of stalemate of who breaks the silence first.

To be honest, now that he’s said it, he thinks he might throw up if you reject him for the second time that night. His heart is literally in his throat right now and he thinks if he shifts his weight wrong, the whole world might just come crashing down. The ball is in your court now so it’s only right to wait until you make the first move, come what may. Like a child who just wants to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut, Hoseok grits his teeth at the strong urge to run out of here.

Words of “No, I told you not tonight” and “seriously, Hoseok?” run through his mind and he half wishes he hadn’t said anything or even chased you back to your room. What an idiot. A desperate idiot. A desperate idiot that couldn’t even take the first subtle no as a complete answer. What did he think would happen? He should just go back to his room now before he makes things worse. Just apologise and leave, Hoseok, he thinks. Just-

Soft lips on his immediately banish the self-deprecating thoughts from his mind. His eyes go wide for a second as his brain catches up with what’s happening before he finally melts into you, catching your lips in between his. His arms silently wind around your waist, pulling you closer ever so slightly, pressing your body up against his so he can feel every soft edge and delicious curves, so he can memorise this body just as he had memorised the other ones, the other you’s - all different yet had felt just as familiar.

His. Theirs. Whatever you want to call it, this is it. This is what it feels like to be away for a long time and finally coming home. This is the same feeling of being lost in a crowd, frantic, until you see a familiar face once more. It’s the same as when you’ve spent an entire day out doing either fun activities or running errands and being able to finally sink into the comfort of your mattress at the end of the day. It's a relief, it’s content. It’s every little comfort in life that he has come to associate with you.

You, who had been so close yet so far away. You, who had been sitting right in front of his eyes these past few months yet going to bed missing you. He had been patient, he had followed the rules. Surely he deserves this, no? A little piece of the heaven he’s been promised if he plays the game right.

When Hoseok feels his feet moving, it’s not him that’s taking the lead. You guide him, mouths still connected, tongue still tangled, towards the bed in clumsy footsteps and he finds himself toppling onto his back. Neither of you break the kiss, not even as you straddle him, leaning chest to chest as you card your fingers through his hair, feeling his fingers dig into your side, probably leaving half-moon shapes on your skin. Neither of you seems to think that breathing is important right now, not when you both can drink in each other, taking it lungful of gulps of whatever that’s flowing through your connected mouths.

In the distant far back of Hoseok’s mind, he thinks there’s a hint of unfairness to this. How would he even explain this to the others? They wouldn’t be jealous per se, but more annoyed that he had, once again, been the first to get a full taste of you. All of them understood it well enough that there’s a ritual to the cycle, a pattern of sorts that forces itself even when they do their damndest to change things. Would that be enough of an excuse once the others find out (because they will find out)?

You pull away from the kiss, forehead remaining flushed against his. “Where are you off to?” You sound curious albeit a little sad and he cranes his neck to smush his lips back on yours, speaking in between kisses, “Sorry. I hope everyone’s really asleep, is all.”

You giggle, sitting back just slightly out of his reach. “We can always stop,” you tease, biting your already swollen lower lip.

“Fuck no,” Hoseok growls as he snakes his fingers on the back of your head and pulls you back in. This time, he’s wise enough to flip you both over, the control finally in his hands. A light bulb goes off in his head as an idea strikes him and with one rough swipe, he pulls your shirt up and over your chest. Shoving the bunched hem in between your teeth, he says, “Now try and stay quiet for me, baby.”

***

Jin picks out a card from Yoongi’s fanned out deck in his hands, smirks, then places a pair of aces into the middle pile.

He turns to Jungkook for his turn to draw. “Do you reckon they know we can hear them?” Jungkook asks nonchalantly as he turns towards Jimin, unable to find a matching pair.

The game of Old Maid had been going on for as long as the muffled ruckus started up in your room, right across from where they are, a method to keep them occupied as well as from bursting in there to catch Hoseok red-handed. But Jin thought that would’ve been too crass and since no one would be able to sleep anyway, they decided on a game of cards.

Jin snorts. “Doubt it.”

Yoongi just shrugs as he pulls out a card from Jimin’s hand. He pauses for a moment, tilting his head. “Is the cat inside?”

They all stop in their tracks, exchanging glances at each other in the silence (somewhat silence - they can hear the creaking of your bed) as they think about the possibility. Jimin shakes his head pitifully. “Poor, poor kitty.”

The game resumes.

Down the hall, as opposed to Taehyung lightly snoring, oblivious to what’s happening close by, Namjoon stands by the opened window, half his body hanging outside, hands pressed against the ledges. He thought that by doing this, he can somewhat distract himself with the nighttime nature but he can hear the quiet moans of your voice and wonders if you had your windows cracked open, too.

Aaagghh!

He wants to scream so bad but the sliver of self control he has has him scrunching up his face like he had tasted something sour, gripping to the window ledge so tight the wood creaks threateningly. Namjoon has no idea of the card game going on in Jin’s room. All he thinks is he wishes he was fast asleep instead, like the others because they seemed unbothered. He had expected for one or even two of them to burst into his room, wide-eyed and in between panic and excitement at the knowledge of you and Hoseok making love so painfully obvious.

Namjoon won’t deny the slight twinge of jealousy in his chest but feeling jealous of each other is as pointless as urging a flower to grow faster just because another one has already bloomed - everything is in due time; he just has to be patient. He does wonder if Hoseok’s true nature peeks out with you now, that dominance lurking under that bright, head-thrown-back laughter heard everyday around the house. What would you think of it? Or is Hoseok holding himself back, keeping things soft and vanilla for this first time with you? First time in this lifetime, of course.

As he sighs in defeat, retreating back into his room and closing the window tightly but almost begrudgingly, another thought comes to mind: How does he face you in the morning? Namjoon pauses on his way to the bathroom, blinking as he thinks, mouth downturned. What if he can’t hide the fact that he heard you? Fuck!

He stomps his way to the bathroom to splash cold water into his face, determined to forget everything and go to sleep. But sleep isn’t a good friend tonight as he lays there in bed, an obvious tent in his pyjama bottoms now, chewing on the insides of his cheeks. The harder he tries to push filthy thoughts out of his head, the more his mind wanders down to times when he had had you by his side almost every night, squished up against him, someone else’s arms around your middle, a human sandwich of sorts.

The first time Namjoon had laid with you, he had mistakenly thought you as shy, needing him to take the lead, nudging you in the right direction. He’d tease you with little orders like, “Take of your top for me, my love” and “That’s my girl” or “You’re as radiant as the stars in the sky, my darling, so let me see you more”, words that you blushed at, hiding your happy smiles behind your hair as you kept your head down low, doing everything he told you like a good puppy.

But Namjoon had been too naive. The moment you flipped him over, one palm pushing against his chest for balance as you pushed up on the balls of your feet moving perfectly over his shaft, mounting him like a cat in heat, head thrown back, mouth agape, breathing in shallow breaths as he watched your breasts bounce almost mesmerised. Namjoon had been speechless, his usually intelligent mind rendered blank and dumb. Ah, he had thought to himself, I must have died and reached heaven.

The more Namjoon entertained those memories swirling in his head, the more uncomfortable his lower half gets. He goes back into bed, pulling the covers over himself as his left hand sneaks into his pants. He closes his eyes, conjuring the memories of you in bed forward, almost smelling your skin on his clean sheet. His morals can go to hell for tonight.

~~~

Hoseok’s breathing is even, soft slow breaths that keep my eyes on the way his chest moves up and down.

But he’s not sleeping, I can tell. He slowly turns his head over to me, eyelids fluttering open to look at me. Rustling alerts me to his hand moving over to touch mine under the blanket, intertwining our fingers together in between us, bringing them up to his mouth. He places a kiss on each one of my knuckles before resting our connected hands on his bare chest.

“Hi,” I whisper lamely.

“Hi,” he whispers back with an amused smile.

I turn slightly sideways, lips connecting with his shoulder, mouthing at it a little, making him smile wider. The sun is only just rising, the soft glow of the slowly waking world outside holds off behind a curtain closed shut. Soon, the birds will start their activity, Mrs Oliviera will be thumping around on the first floor to start the day and it will be time to wake up and break this sacred, quiet moment between Hoseok and I.

“I should go back to-”

“Stay.”

Hoseok regards me for a moment. “But the others will be awake soon.”

“And?”

“They’ll ask questions,” he answers, turning onto his side and leaning on one elbow, looking down on me.

I hum, feeling his finger caressing my side. “You don’t have to answer.”

“They’ll know,” he says.

“Then they don’t have to ask.”

Hoseok chuckles softly. He leans down and connects our lips, fingers digging into my flesh. He deepens the kiss, pushing me over on my back as he looms over me, his weight creaking the bed. He moves to my cheek, nosing down to my neck, lightly brushing his lips on the sensitive skin there. He starts to move downward, pecking kisses down to my chest. I can feel his tongue poking out, feel it-

“Mreooowww!”

We both jump apart, him more than me that he almost falls off the edge of the bed.

“Karma!” I exclaimed, staring in disbelief at the cat that had just jumped onto the bed. He gives me a disapproving look as he curls up in what was just minutes ago Hoseok’s spot, laying his head on the pillow as if reclaiming it.

I turn back to Hoseok and give him an apologetic shrug. He laughs lightly, slipping off the bed and kneeling by the side of it. “I think that’s my cue, love,” he says. He leans over and kisses my forehead. “Sleep some more.”

I watch him get dressed and leave the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. I lay back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling. I turn to Karma, purring contentedly. He opens his eyes in slits to look at me before closing them again, almost smugly.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?”

He ignores me, as expected.

I roll my eyes and turn the other way.

***

“Karma!”

The quiet yelling doesn’t bother the cat as I watch him bound up the stairs towards the third floor. I let out a groan and climb over the makeshift barrier, tiptoeing up the stairs as quickly as I can to go after him before the housekeeper sends us both to think about our actions in a corner. The stupid cat is fast and I try to be as quiet as possible, trailing after him.

“Get back here,” I hiss, bending low with my arms outstretched as I approach him close enough for the tip of his twin tails to brush my fingers. He had stopped to sniff at a closed door but then changed his mind, darting away and escaping me. He hurries down the hallway and I slow my pace, eyes trailing upwards to that same old door in the ceiling. I don’t come up here often and for some reason, the sight of it triggers a nostalgic feeling of sorts.

I stop right underneath it, neck starting to ache a little from how long I’ve been staring at the Anam Cara etched on the wooden surface. That specific celtic knot represents eternal love but what most people tend to ignore is the fact that Anam Cara literally translates to ‘soul friend’. I wonder why my grandaunt was so fascinated by Gaelic culture. Do we have some Irish bloodline in us? Or Vikings, maybe?

The sound of scratching pulls my attention down towards Karma again who is now long and extended halfway across one wall, paws stretched to reveal the razor claws beneath sunk into the wallpaper.

“Nononononono,” I mutter, leaping forward to remove him from making more damage but Karma is a cat. He lithely jumps out of the way but it’s too late for me to pull the brakes, ramming my shoulder straight into the wall he was leaning against, but instead of bouncing off of it, I sink into it.

~~~

The thud isn’t what made Jin finally curious enough to go up the third floor; it’s the strange cat that casually slinks between his legs heading downstairs, but not before giving him a look that confirms it wasn’t him making the noise.

Jin isn’t the bravest man out there. The only good thing about having a pet, he thinks, is that he can blame it for any weird creaky, spooky noise he can’t explain that happens throughout this old house. But it’s the afternoon and the house doesn't look so haunted with the sun shining through every window so he decided to be adventurous. His plan was to peek around the corner and then run like hell downstairs again.

He cranes his neck as far out as he can, one foot on the edge of the stairs, ready to bolt. His eyes scan the hallway hurriedly and when he doesn’t see anything, his heart starts thudding faster. Jin hears a pop in his neck from whipping his head around too fast but then he hears your voice.

“Ow…”

He pauses, heart finally calming down. “Y/n?”

No reply. Did he imagine it? He takes a tentative step forward and then another, eyes rapidly scanning the area. But it’s a long hallway that stops at a window. Are you in one of the rooms? Did you fall? Did something fall onto you? Oh god, no.

Jin bursts through each door one by one without bothering to close the one before, his senses heightened to the point there’s a ringing in his ears. Each door he goes through he’s met with ceiling-high stacked old items he doesn’t focus on for too long, items he had long put behind him; some made him think more about you which sends him into more of a panic. By the fourth door, Jin is half-convinced he imagined your voice and had half a mind to just go back downstairs to find you.

He exits the door and for some reason, he looks up towards the trapdoor that he had been living above off just a few months ago. He’s too far to see it but his eyes zone in on the Anam Cara. He remembers the night that he had taken a knife to the wood, giggling with you as he carved the shape, carefully not to nick himself with the blade as his vision sort of blurred together from how much wine he had drunk.

“Yoongi is going to be so- hic- mad,” you had slurred. “He was going to- hic- use this panel for a cupboard- hic.”

“I’m making it prettier,” he replied with a grin. “He’ll love it.”

No, he didn’t. Yoongi had been annoyed but not angry enough to do anything more than just roll his eyes when he had caught the two of you in his workshed. He did, however, throw the tangerine he was holding at Jin’s head before confiscating the knife from Jin and shepherding you both to bed, mumbling about soulmate symbols and how the Anam Cara wasn’t actually one (Jin had justified that it was his expression of eternal love for you which earned him that free lecture from Yoongi). And that’s the origin story of the trapdoor in the ceiling.

“Help!”

Jin snaps out of his reverie. He follows the muffled sound of the voice and finds himself face to face with the revolving secret wall. If he hadn’t been ten feet away from it, he definitely would not have heard it. A sense of deja vu washes over him, only this time he’s not a floating ghost.

~~~

“Help!”

I called out a second time but judging from how compact my voice sounds in this space, I knew no one would be able to hear me. My chest starts to wind up tight, my throat constricting as panic rises up to a crescendo. I can feel pressure in my ears but my mouth is clamped shut, unable to make any more noise. It’s so, so dark.

I’ve been here before, I remember. A while back when I had first found this place. How could I have forgotten that? That’s the funny thing about your brain; it tends to push down all the bad stuff so you can function somewhat properly. A monster in the dark. There’s a monster in the dark. A ghost. With eyes so familiar it hurts.

These thoughts go around and around in my head, bouncing off the walls of my mind as I try my hardest to not start hyperventilating. My breaths are coming out in short bursts and my hands are fisted, pressed together against my stomach. When your whole existence is crushing inward against you, your senses become sharper than usual, albeit narrowed to your own self. That’s how I’m hyper aware of how cold my own fingers are and how loud the thud, thud, thud is of my heart against my ribcage.

~~~

Jin picks random spots on the wall to pound against with the side of his fists, alternating between the right and left side as he’s confident the axis is somewhere in the centre. Thud, thud, thud! And yet the wall resists.

You no longer make any sound from within and although Jin knows that you could have made your way downstairs, his panic button is still turned on. He remembers your panic-stricken face the first time you stumbled across the hidden space, the way you had gone completely out of his reach even when he had been screaming in your face to try to snap you out of it. That triggered the other memory, of him dragging your limp body out of the water. Jin shivers, both to shake the bad memory away as well as in anger because. The wall. Just. Won’t-

The wall finally swings open and Jin’s eyes are quick to lock in on you the same time yours find him. He doesn’t waste another moment.

~~~

Jin. Jin’s eyes.

A ghost with eyes so familiar it hurts.

Jin. Seokjin. My Seokjin.

He’s crushing me so hard the wind is knocked out of me. Ironically, I can breathe again, taking in huge gulps of air like a diver resurfacing.

Murky waters.

Jin is talking to me but I can’t quite hear him. He’s holding my face in between both hands, forcing me to look up at him, into those eyes. Those eyes that look so worried, like I had died. My chest feels tight and my throat is suddenly ticklish, like I got something stuck there. I cough and it stings, like when you accidentally swallowed water into the wrong pipe.

Murky water. Mud.

~~~

“Are you okay?!”

You’re looking at Jin but not really seeing him, he can tell. Your eyes look far away, almost lifeless and it scares him so much his hands are shaking as he holds your face. He wants to call out to the others but something keeps him focused on you, unable to pull away even for a second lest he might lose you. It doesn’t make sense but the fear in his heart is real.

“Talk to me, please.”

You take a deep breath but Jin’s not convinced that you’re fully there yet. You start coughing and his panic goes back up to ten. Did you choke on something? He tries to keep your body straight so he can look, make sure you’re okay but you’re doubling over, grasping at your chest, coughing like you’re suffocating.

“-water.”

Jin bends down. “Okay, let’s get you some water. We need to get out-”

“You pulled me out of the water.”

The coughing stops as abruptly as it started. You look up at him, chest still heaving. Jin is at a loss for words, staring at you as he tries to make sense of the sentence. I did, he thinks, once upon a time ago.

Flashbacks to that dreadful day play like an old film reel in Jin’s mind, each scene starker than the next. Standing there in the secret space built so many years ago, he’s convinced that water is dripping down his forehead; water from that pond miles behind the property. He can even smell it on him. He doesn’t notice it yet but his heart is in his throat, ready to be vomited out once he opens his mouth to respond to you. “Jin,” you say, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him close, “did I die?”

a/n: at this rate, it looks like I'm posting once a year to this fic and they're shorter than I like too T_T i'm doing my best! I'll try harder, I promise! T_T

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