#yoongi got fired and ran away to new york

[out-of-jams]

Gossip Girl

↠ Gossip Girl ↞ Part of my Bangtan Netflix series!

Every year, you and your seven childhood friends spend the holiday weekend together at Jin’s resort in the Alps. It’s always a good time: drinking, the occasional recreational drug, and the divulging of secrets. It’d been another routine, fun weekend with your friends.

Until one of you leaked everyone’s secrets to the city’s biggest gossip site. Should be easy to find out which one of you did it, right? Who was responsible for dragging everyone’s reputation into the dirt? Too bad no one could remember what had happened that weekend. Or so you all say.

Which one of eight, pretty little socialites spilled their ugly truths? Why, that’s a secret I’ll never tell.

                                           xoxo

                                     Gossip Girl

              Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

              Warnings/Genre: Mature themes. Socialite!au. Gossip Girl!au. Explicit language. Fluff. Angst. Backstabbing. Mystery. Drug use. Alcohol use. Light violence. Allusion to criminal activity. Friends to lovers.

              Word Count: 18.5k

A/N: Whew! This was a beast for me to write let me tell ya! But it's also my first one shot of this size and caliber. Well, and my first time writing smut too (cringe). Hopefully it turned out well.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

                               | | Masterlist | |

             Hey Upper-Eastsiders, Gossip Girl here: your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan’s elite. And do I have the biggest news ever. One of my many sources sent me something that I think you’d all like to see.

Not even the gentle hum of the elevator could drown out the sound of your rapidly beating heart. While you watched the golden lit numbers above the steel doors count up as you ascended, you couldn’t help the shaking of your hands. You had maybe fifteen more seconds to pull yourself together.

Your mascara coated eyelashes tickled your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut. One, two, three. That was all you gave yourself before you opened your eyes and stood up straight. The silk yellow ribbon tied around your neck threatened to strangle you to death, but you ignored it in favor of the elevator doors opening.

Cigar smoke. That was the first scent to assault your nose.  

Fuck.

Jin only smoked cigars when he was overly stressed and on the precipice of a meltdown. He always complained that they damaged his beauty. Like the tobacco would somehow come to life and mar his face. He always was overdramatic.

Now, however, you were almost tempted to steal one for yourself.

The deep vocal fry of Hoseok’s voice met your ears as you stepped out of the steel box. Heels clacking against the glossy wood finish of the penthouse of Jin’s hotel, you rounded the corner of the foyer. The fancy, grey bricked finish of the walls were normally familiar-- comforting. But now it chilled your veins with ice.

Standing at the bar in the living room, Namjoon was pouring himself a generous serving of scotch. His silver colored hair was glossy under the overhead lights. He must have just recently bleached it since it’d been honey blond just a day ago. Namjoon’s back was to you, but at your entrance he turned with a glass of liquor in hand.

Jin paused from where he was pacing a hole into the expensive persian rug he’d purchased last summer abroad. The pink jacket of his suit was discarded on top of the pool table and the long sleeves of his white button-up were rolled to his elbows. A fat, half-smoked cigar dangled from one of his slender hands, the other moving to push his dark hair away from his forehead. Jin’s normally grinning plump lips were pursed in irritation, nostrils flared.

From his seat on the long, orange colored couch, Hoseok halted his movements, his fingers halfway to his lips with an unlit joint. Most of the buttons on his light blue shirt were undone and the muscles of his pectorals were peaked through. And his own blazer was flung over the arm of the couch without care.

“Was it you?”

You didn’t even get to take another step before Jin was all over you. He never yelled at you, at least not in the way that he was now. And you couldn’t help your eyebrows from shooting up into your hairline in disbelief.

“Me? Seriously?” An unamused huff left your lips. “Why the hell would I expose myself?”

“She’s got a point.” Hoseok mumbled around the joint pressed between his heart-shaped lips. His eyes were downcast as he flicked open his 18 carat gold Dupont lighter and held it up to the end. The scent of marijuana mixed with cigar smoke with thick tension.

“So it wasn’t any of us.” Namjoon spoke up, knocking back an unhealthy amount of scotch.

“Who was it then?” Jin turned to Namjoon with fire blazing in his eyes. The ash from his cigar threatened to sprinkle onto the rug, but he didn’t notice. Or care.

“How the hell would I know?”

“Where’s everyone else?” You cut in before the frown lines in Namjoon’s forehead could deepen. WIth a click of your heels, you dropped your birkin purse onto the glass coffee table and sat down next to Hoseok, who offered you the joint and a sad, tiny smile. He should have expected for you to decline. You rarely partook.

The heat of secondhand smoke filled your lungs as Hoseok exhaled and your eyes searched over the stressed men in the room. Jin finally made his way back to the pool table and leaned against it with his forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Not here yet.”

Footsteps sounded from around the corner on the opposite side of the penthouse entrance. Through the smoky haze filling the room you could just make out the figure of a man that you would recognize almost anywhere.

With long, curly black hair and broad shoulders covered by a black cashmere shirt, Jungkook sauntered into the room with his customary swagger. Three silver hoops dangled from each ear and the heels of his designer black boots knocked against the floor as he approached. His doe-like eyes met yours and he faltered in his stride, golden ringed hand pushing his hair from his eyes.

Jungkook’s mouth parted like he had something to say, but stopped himself and settled for just giving you a silent head nod of greeting instead. You simply shot him a quick, closed mouth smile and grabbed the dangling joint from Hoseok’s hand. You didn’t usually participate. Didn’t normally take what Hoseok had to offer. But damn did you need it. Especially with what was to come.

The sound of the elevator dinging was a grateful distraction from the way Jungkook’s thighs strained against the fabric of his black slacks when he took a seat on the other couch. Everyone in the room looked up at the two men who rounded the corner. One short and the other taller: Jimin and Taehyung. Also known as the Dynamic Duo.

Taehyung had always been someone of ethereal beauty. With his blond hair and perfectly sculpted face, he’d graced more covers of magazines than you owned. His tall, slender figure was covered head-to-toe in nothing but Gucci as he crossed the room. The man’s normally bubbly, cute boxy smile was gone and replaced by a serious look that you’d never seen from him in all your years of friendship.

And at his side, Jimin possessed a beauty that rivaled your own. While Taehyung was handsome, Jimin was pretty. His light pink colored hair complimented his dainty features and made him look like a fairy with plush, kissable lips and tan skin. Even though he was the shortest of the men in your group, Jimin made up for it with his ability to catch and bag any woman he wanted. Or man. Whichever he was in the mood for.

“Well?” Taehyung’s deep baritone voice spoke up before anyone else could. His steps halted once he made it to the center of the room, though Jimin headed straight to the bar. “Who’s going to take responsibility for this? Which one of you did it?”

You’d never seen Taehyung so angry. Not even when Jungkook shaved half his head and eyebrows as a prank in middle school. But now, Taehyung was burning with heat, the steam from his anger mixing with the smoke intermingling in the air.

“Calm down.” Jin huffed. His dark eyes burned with authority while he puffed on his cigar, his teeth holding it in place like some kind of socialite mobster.

Though, you supposed, he kind of was in a way. Whether the people in the room agreed or not, Jin was the unspoken leader of Bangtan. Which, coincidentally, was the most powerful group of socialites in the city. Everyone turned to your group when they wanted juicy gossip, or for the next big fashion trend, or for a leg up the ladder of the elite. All eight of your families ran a different part of New York City, and since you were the next heirs, it fell to you to follow in your parent’s footsteps.

“Calm down?” Taehyung clenched his jaw in anger. “How the hell am I supposed to calm down when the whole fucking city knows that I--”

“Look, let’s just wait for everyone to get here before we start in on each other. Cool?” Namjoon, ever the peacemaker, spoke as he poured both himself and Jimin another full glass of scotch.

Namjoon wasn’t the biggest heavyweight when it came to alcohol, so you were a little concerned for his sobriety.

“Speaking of,” Hoseok leaned back against the couch and stretched his arms along the back. The warmth of his skin brushed against the back of your neck and you met his eyes as he turned to you. “Where’s Yoongi?”

All attention was on you, but all you could do was shrug. “No idea. He left early this morning and didn’t tell anyone where he was going.”

Hoseok’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Looked like you weren’t the only one wondering what the hell your brother was up to.

“Did anyone try calling him?” Jimin plopped down next to you on the couch so hard that it sent you bouncing into Hoseok’s side.  

The pink haired man ignored your annoyed glare in favor of topping off his glass and setting the bottle of liquor on the coffee table. Jimin’s sweet scented cologne mixed with the aroma of marijiauna in a dangerous cocktail of temptation.

“He said he’d be here.” Jin spared a glance down at the Rolex fixed to his wrist. “Though it better be soon.”

“In a hurry? You have other secrets you need to go sell?” Taehyung buried his hands deep inside the pockets of his Gucci slacks.

He’d yet to take a seat and continued to stand in the middle of the room like the center of attention he loved to be. His blond hair hung across his brow as he sent Jin a dangerous glare.

“Watch it.” With a growl, Jin pushed off the pool table and stalked closer to the blond.

“Why? You gonna send me away too?”

Your fingers found your temples in frustration. Fights would break out occasionally between the eight of you. It was normal. Expected, even. Given how long you’d known each other, the hard-headed determination that you all possessed sometimes got in the way of one another. Backstabbing would happen from time-to-time, sometimes purposeful and others not, but at the end of the day you’d always be there for one another. But selling each other out?

It was a whole different ball game now.

A sigh left your lips as you drowned out the bickering going on back and forth between Taehyung and Jin. Even though the older man liked to play at being a no-nonsense businessman, he was one of the most immature out of all of you.

Looking up from the rug underneath your heels, you just so happened to meet Jungkook’s stare. His lips were pressed together and his doe eyes shone with an emotion you couldn’t discern as he refused to break his gaze. Jungkook’s brows pushed together in an attempt to wordlessly communicate something with you. What that was exactly, you had no idea.

Your eyes dropped back down to the rug with pursed lips and the side of your body that still pressed against Hoseok’s simmered with heat. How did you get yourself into this situation?

Well.

                                   Two Hours Ago

“Time to wake up, Miss Min.”

The sound of metal rings being dragged across a curtain rod wretched you out of peaceful slumber. With your mind hovering halfway between the land of dreams and that of the living, you subconsciously turned away from the sunlight that suddenly beamed across your closed eyelids.

“Not now, Yoomin.” You words were slurred into the cool silk of your pillow. Snaking a hand out of the comforter wrapped around you like a burrito, your fingers searched your forehead blindly. Sometime throughout the night your sleeping mask had gotten pushed up and away from your eyes. “I was having the most wonderful dream. Now let me get back to it.”

Yoomin tutted her tongue somewhere behind you, not that you’d bother to look anyway. The older woman should have been used to your morning routine by now. She’d been working for your family ever since you were a baby and if you were being honest, she’d raised you more than your own mother.

“If you don’t get up now, Miss Min, you won’t get to your first day of the semester on time.” Yoomin scolded softly, voice lilting with her hard Korean accent.

“Five more minutes.”

Instead of granting your wish, Yoomin’s feet padded across the shag carpet in your bedroom and ripped the covers from your body. She ignored your grumbled moans of protest and tossed them somewhere you couldn’t easily reach.

“Breakfast is ready for you downstairs, Miss Min.” Even with the sleep mask covering your eyes, you could picture the woman’s stance: hands on hips and lips pursed. “Get ready and come down.”

“Ugh.” Once again, Yoomin paid no mind to your wordless plea and left the room, closing the door behind her. With a sigh, you tore your mask off and threw it somewhere on the other side of your king size bed.

The royal blue walls of your bedroom greeted you as you squinted against the sunlight. And silk sheets caressed your bare legs while you slowly sat up, fingers running through your tangled hair. The clock on your bedside table read that it was only 9 am and you took a moment to mourn the loss of sleep.

You’d gotten back home sometime late last night/early in the morning. The flight that you’d taken back from the Alps had been delayed due to severe weather conditions. Or whatever. Therefore, you’d only been able to squeeze in a few hours of sleep.

“I really should have taken Jin’s offer and used his private jet.” Your mumbles met no one’s ears but your own as you pulled back the door of your closet. Though, you supposed, it was your fault for wanting to take the latest possible flight back to New York.

Fingers pressing a button on the small remote in your hand blindly, you tilted your head to the side as the designer clothes hung up inside your walk-in closet rotated. Pops of color came and faded out of view while you debated what to wear for the day. Just because you were tired didn’t mean that you had to look it.

Well that, and you would be dragged to hell and back on Gossip Girl, the city’s biggest gossip site, if someone caught you looking less than your best.

Which would happen over your dead, decrypt body.

With a hum, you plucked a black and yellow versace dress from the rack, and grabbed a solid dark green overcoat and matching mustard yellow scarf and birkin bag. You only debated for a moment before grabbing a pair of fishnet tights and wandered into the ensuite bathroom.

The heated tiles were warm and welcoming against your bare feet. And as you showered, you couldn’t help but mentally go through your calendar for the day. It was Monday, which meant that you had a full day of classes and then afterwards you’d stop by Jin’s.

He was the oldest of your group, having four years on you and five on the youngest--Jungkook--so he’d already graduated college. Not that he really needed to, since Jin had been set to take over his father’s five star hotel chain since he was in his final year of high school. He had an older brother, Seokjoong, but he was so wrapped up in the party lifestyle that he’d disappeared into Europe ages ago. It was rumored that he’d cleaned out his bank account and changed his name right before going M.I.A.. No one had heard from him since.

And so, Jin was appointed the next heir of Kim Industries.

Lips pursed in a pout, you swiped on a final layer of lip gloss and fluffed your hair. Your reflection stared back at you in the floor length mirror as you gave yourself one last look over. With skin perfect and makeup flawless, you gave a one shouldered shrug of approval.

The stiletto heels of your mustard colored pumps clacked against the twisting marble steps of your high rise penthouse as you descended. It was quiet. Which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in the Min household. So your arrival on the first floor went unnoticed by anyone but yourself.

Right at the bottom of the steps, across the row of red marble pillars, was your favorite sitting room. A healthy selection of fruits were spread across the knee-high table in the center of the room. But you ignored it in favor of the steaming china cup filled with coffee. The hot liquid hit the back of your throat as you plopped down onto one of the four plush couches.

Reaching across the table, you grabbed the newest Vogue magazine and flipped through it. “Yoomin!”

Your shout didn’t go unanswered for more than a few ticks of silence.

“Yes, Miss Min?” The older woman appeared from somewhere else in the apartment, most likely the kitchen. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a low sitting french bun. A lacy black and white maid’s headband sat atop her hair that matched with the rest of her outfit. You weren’t really a huge fan of the whole ‘suppressed woman’ look, but Yoomin liked it for some odd reason.

With your lips pressed carefully to the porcelain cup in order to preserve your lipgloss, you eyed the woman over the rim. “Where’s my brother? Isn’t he usually forced out of his hidey-hole he calls a bed by now? Or is he still cooped up in the batcave?”

“Ah,” Yoomin folded her hands daintily in front of herself. “Mr. Min left earlier this morning. A few hours ago to be precise.”

Now that had your eyebrows shooting so far up into your hairline that you were surprised they didn’t take flight. Your brother wasn’t known for mornings. Or waking up any earlier than 2pm. He usually had to be forced out of bed if anyone needed him before that, which was a job that nobody wanted. While your brother was quite the softy deep down beneath his cold exterior, he wouldn’t hesitate to tear anyone apart who dared to rouse him from his precious slumber.

You lowered your teacup to your lap, the contents already drained. “Yoongi, up early? Being productive? Sounds suspicious. Did he leave to go back to Korea already and not tell me?”

“No, Mr. Min is still in the city. As for where he went, he didn’t say.” Yoomin wet her lips almost nervously and you narrowed your eyes at the action.

“Really, now?” The cup met the surface of the table. “He left and didn’t say a word? Just waltzed right out the door? Very unlike him.”

While Yoongi wasn’t very warm and receptive towards strangers, your brother had a soft spot for Yoomin. Her family had worked for yours for generations. In fact, she’d left everything behind in South Korea to join your family and immigrate to America. That’d all been years ago, before you were born.

Yoongi was three years older than you, so he’d been around one-years-old when your mother packed up and moved her fashion company from Seoul to Manhattan. Your father moved to Italy right after their divorce, and while you only got to see him during certain holidays and summer vacations, you were a daddy’s girl through and through.

Yoomin paused for a millisecond before responding. “Yes, Miss Min.”

“Ah!” You pointed an accusatory finger at the woman. “You hesitated! What do you know?”

“Nothing, Miss Min.” Yoomin bowed her head before glancing over her shoulder. “If you’ll please excuse me, your mother asked me to drop a few things off at her office.”

The woman disappeared before you could respond, the heels of her mary jane’s clacking against the floor. The ding of the elevator richoched, steel doors closing and leaving you alone in a place that held too much silence.

You’d barely had any time to ponder on the woman’s strange actions when the chirp of a text message rang from the pocket of your purse. Absentmindedly popping a grape into your mouth, you slid the device out and glanced at the text on the screen.

         E-girl blast #830: This just in: looks like if you take the Bang out of Bangtan, you get a very bad girl. Rumor has it that our High Rise Princess isn’t as innocent as she portrays herself to be. Someone should really change her name to High Rise Porn Star.

The blood in your veins froze, lungs stopped inhaling breath, stomach dropped down to the floor. With your mouth hanging open and eyes wide in complete and utter humiliation, the color drained from your face. Because there plastered for the whole world to see on Gossip GIrl’s website was a photograph of yourself. But not just any photo, no.  

It was of you, lying beneath the silver silk sheets of a bed. Your hair was flowing free across the pillow, side profile exposed. And you were obviously naked, only the important bits covered by the sheet. Eyes closed in sleep, you were completely oblivious to the person responsible for the photograph.

The room was familiar. You would have recognized where the photo was taken even if it wasn’t. It was in one of the various guest suites at Jin’s lodge in the Alps. Where you’d been less than twenty-four hours ago. Where that exact picture was taken.

But that wasn’t what caused panic to well in your throat.

                But who is the one responsible for the deflowering of our pretty little princess? Take a closer look and you tell me.

Right below that was another photograph. A cropped version of the first that showed an arm poking out from underneath the covers. It was zoomed in just enough to be able to make out the lump of another body in bed with you. Luckily, the identity of the man couldn’t be seen as he’d burried himself under the sheets like a gopher.

“Fuck.”

           But if you think that’s bad, wait until you hear the rest of what I have to say. Looks like Bangtan aren’t as bulletproof as they want you to think. Let’s move on to our Golden Boy, shall we?

The message continued on, but with the way your vision clouded with panic, you wouldn’t have been able to read it even if you tried. Who the hell sent in that photo to Gossip Girl? And how did they even get the picture in the first place?

Hands shaking, you almost didn’t look when another text message pinged on your phone. But thankfully, it wasn’t from Gossip Girl. With a shaky exhale, you read over the text.

     “It wasn’t me, I swear. You know I would never do that to you.”

Your thumbs hovered over the touchscreen keyboard, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you debated messaging back.

                          “Please believe me.”

The chance to respond disappeared as the phone in your manicured hands rang. You hesitated, not wanting to answer, but knowing you couldn’t ignore it either. Not if you didn’t want him to show up on your doorstep fuming. You blew air out of your mouth nervously and swiped accept.

“He--”

“Family meeting. Ditch your classes and get here now.”

                                   Present Time

“What’s with all the screaming?”

The voice drew you from your thoughts and all sound in the room cut off as heads snapped up in unison.

In the wide entrance of the living room dressed like he was fresh off the runway was your brother. Your heart stopped in your chest and you silently prayed for a bolt of lightning to strike you down. Yoongi was what you would call an overprotective older brother. He’d always held you up on some sort of pedestal with high expectations that you tried so hard to meet. And you really, really didn’t want to see how he would look at you from your new place on the ground.

Yoongi’s cat-like eyes surveyed the room almost lazily, like he couldn’t be bothered to be there. Whether or not he was affected by the leak as much as everyone else was impossible to tell. Or it would have been if you hadn’t been so close.  

The story that the aggressively bitten nails on his fingers told of his anxiety at the circumstances. His messily styled hair spoke of how he’d threaded his hands through the strands over and over again in an attempt to gather his bearings. And the rhythmic way he clenched his jaw let you know that he was trying to hold himself together.

You hadn’t seen Yoongi like that in a long time. Not since he broke the news to your mother that he had no desire to take over the company. That she should give it to you, the one who actually wanted it, so he could pursue his dream of becoming a music producer instead. Suffice to say, she hadn’t taken it well.

“Finally!” Jimin raised his glass in an alcoholic salute. The scotch splashed dangerously around the rim and you side-eyed the man. Hopefully he wasn’t already drunk off his ass. “Welcome to the party.”

“All sunshine and rainbows here.” Hoseok leaned over to dig around in the breast pocket of his blazer draped across the couch and pulled out another joint. He waved it towards your brother with a smile that lacked its usual warmth. “You’re gonna need this.”

Your eyes dropped to the coffee table when Yoongi’s stare flickered over to you ever so briefly. A coward you definitely were. If you couldn’t even look your brother in the eyes, how in the hell were you supposed to face the rest of the world?

“Alright, listen up.” Jin, finally free of his finished cigar, captured everyone’s attention like the charismatic man he was. His dark gaze met each and every eye in the room before he stuffed a hand in the pocket of his slacks and continued. “One of us here is a dirty, backstabbing scumbag--”

“How are we even sure it was one of us?” Jungkook’s voice finally filled the room, dark brows scrunched once again. With a flash of pink he wet his lips and he glanced around at everyone present.

“The secrets that were leaked to Gossip Girl,” Namjoon leaned against the back of one of the couches, scotch glass filled once again. At the rate he was drinking, he’d be passed out face down in less than an hour. “Were only told to the people in this room. Well...”

Namjoon paused and his eyes found yours. “All but one, at least. But that’s not important.”

Your cheeks heated under the heavy weight of your childhood friend’s stares.

“Or were you too high off your ass to realize?” Taehyung addressed Jungkook, thankfully tearing the attention from you. He crossed his legs from his new spot leaning against the wall separating the living room from the kitchen. With his head tilted to the side, he analyzed the youngest with a look that threatened retribution. “Maybe it was you.”

“Why would I expose myself?” The tip of Jungkook’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek roughly. “Or any one of you? It was probably you.”

“Me?” A sharp, humourless laugh bubbled past the blond man’s lips. “I could lose my job for this shit. How stupid do you think I am?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow at Taehyung condescendingly.

“Arguing isn’t going to solve anything.” Hoseok’s vocal fry spoke over the impending argument before it could start. His eyes were bloodshot and it made you wonder just how high he was. You couldn’t blame him. Not with what he was probably re-living due to the recent exposure.

“Oh really?” Taehyung turned his anger towards the man sitting at your side, lips pressed into a thin line. “This is all your fucking fault. You’re the one who thought it’d be a good idea to drug us.”

Hoseok flinched so hard that you were surprised no one else could feel it. He didn’t respond, instead choosing to cast his eyes down at the persian rug under his feet. The brunette hair that shifted across his forehead did little to hide his crumpled, guilted expression.

“Fuck off, Taehyung.” Junkook’s nostrils flared as he leaned forward in his seat, elbows braced against his knees like he had to physically hold himself back.

“I mean, Tae kind of has a point, as shitty as it is.” From your left came Jimin’s adolescent-esque deep voice. The pink haired man’s stare was captivated by the way the amber liquid in his glass swirled with a flick of his wrist.

“Pointing fingers right now isn’t going to solve anything.” Jin pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“What do you suggest then, your royal highness?” No one commented on the sarcasm dripping from Taehyung’s tongue.

Instead, Jin stood tall and surveyed the room once again. “We’re going to sit here and go back over every single last detail of what occurred this past weekend. No one’s leaving until we figure out which one of us is the snake.”

He paused, face dark. “And you better pray to God that it isn’t you.”

You couldn’t stop your eyes from glancing at the man sitting near you. His own met yours and reflected the same fear that mixed a dangerous cocktail in the pit of your stomach.

“How will going over details help?” The question came from your brother. He’d been so quiet that you’d momentarily forgotten he was there.

He took a few steps further into the room, shedding his jacket along the way. Yoongi sat down in the empty seat next to Jungkook, who didn’t spare him a second glance.

“We weren’t all together the whole time.” Namjoon half-slurred. The scotch was heavy on his tongue, but you couldn’t really blame him either. “People who went off on their own have the highest probability of being the rat.”

“Okay then, let’s just go through everyone’s texts and emails. See who sent it in to Gossip Girl.” Jungkook leaned back into the couch with a shrug of nonchalance.

“Do you know how easy it is to delete a text or an email?” With a snort, Taehyung spoke slowly, like Jungkook was an invalid.

The youngest clenched his jaw in irritation. “Then we’ll just contact Gossip Girl and ask her.”

“You know she doesn’t reveal her sources.” Jimin murmured into his glass.

“I still don’t see how any of this will help.” Yoongi’s raised eyebrow disappeared underneath his blond bangs. The marijuana smoke from his exhale punctuated his words. “But whatever. The sooner we get this done the sooner I can leave.”

“Somewhere more important to be?” Taehyung crossed his arms across his chest.

Your brother looked unamused. “Unlike you, some of us actually work hard for a living.”

You could see the moment the anger behind Taehyung’s eyes burned deeper with rage. “Modeling is--”

“For fucks sake, shut up! You think you’re the only one with things to do?” Jin rolled his eyes and stepped between the two. Yoongi always knew which buttons to push to send someone right over the edge of self control. The eldest’s withering stare shifted over to a wavering Namjoon. “And stop drinking. You’ll be useless if you’re face down in a toilet.”

Jin’s sharp tone called everyone’s attention yet again as the elevator door dinged. From around the corner emerged one of the hotel’s many staff members. The suit wearing man pushed a large rolling whiteboard into the living room, the type that you usually only saw in crime television shows. The wheels squeaked lightly across the wood floor.

“There is fine.” Jin nodded at the staff member who disappeared with a bow of his head.

The eldest strode up to the board where it was situated in front of the room and picked up a black erase marker. He turned to the group as he uncapped it. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”

                                Forty Hours Ago

“It’s cold.”

Turning to peer over your shoulder, you sent your brother a yeah, duh look. “We’re in the mountains in mid-December. What did you expect?”

From the roof of the resort, Yoongi stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the private helicopter pad that Jin had installed years ago for easy travel. His icy blond hair was pushed back from his pale forehead with a black headband and his mouth was pursed in a cute pout. Though he’d deny its existence if you pointed it out.

The daegu accent that he’d picked up from his past two years living in South Korea stretched out his words into one long drag. “I hate the cold.”

It seemed that not even the thick Givenchy coat drowning his smaller frame could keep him warm. And the fuzzy earmuffs nestled in your hair couldn’t protect your ears from his complaints.

“The sooner we get inside, the sooner we can get warm.” Your own gloved fingers wrapped around the padded material on his upper arm. Yoongi followed after you without resistance, though the pout failed to fall from his face.

Behind the two of you, a handful of staff members descended the helicopter pad’s steps with you and your brother’s suitcases in hand. Luckily it wasn’t snowing, but the wind from on top of the resort was harsh and sharp. It turned your nose into a runny, red mess within minutes. Which was why you couldn’t disappear behind the metal roof door soon enough.

A sigh of relief left your lips at the feeling of heated air hitting your chilled skin. Yoongi’s own grunt sounded from behind you while your fingers hurried to unbutton your thermal coat. The heels of your boots clacked against the hotel’s floor as the two of you strut down the hallway.

The resort was completely empty, as it always was that time of the year. Not because there was a lack of patrons, but because Jin would block out the weekend so your group could reunite before tackling the New Year. At the end of the hall, your fingers pressed the button to call the elevator. Yoongi, red cheeked and sniffling, leaned against the wall beside the closed steel doors and sighed.

“Something wrong?” Your voice was quiet in the empty hall. It’d been a long time since you’d seen him. And while you still managed to call each other at least once a week, it felt like there was some sort of rift between you. An invisible wall that you weren’t sure how to breach.

“No.” Yoongi’s cat-like eyes squeezed shut around a yawn. “Just tired.”

The dark bags under his eyes were prominent. He’d taken a flight from Korea all the way to New York, just so he could join you on another flight and helicopter ride to the resort. Two years ago Yoongi had moved out of the country to pursue his dream of becoming a music producer. And he liked to hide his failures from you as much as he could, but the dejected way he’d sounded on the phone the past few months told you everything he couldn’t.

He was struggling to make a name for himself outside of your mother’s. Yoongi was crazy talented, but he’d chosen to forgo the connections and opportunities that your family name could bring him to start from the bottom. He wanted to build himself from the ground up to prove to himself that he could do it. That he didn’t need your mother to succeed.

Though you supposed that you couldn’t blame just him for the feeling of separation between the two of you. The secret that you withheld from him threatened to drown you with guilt.

The elevator ride was quick and silent. Yoongi leaned against the corner of the steel box with his head flopped back against the wall. You stood at the opposite end, the handles of your purse dangling lazily. The air was tense, yet barren.

With a ding, the doors slid open and the marble flooring of the obnoxiously large and flashy lobby greeted you.

Past the rose gold pillars and other elevators was a classy seating area. Leather couches formed around a roaring, lit fireplace. And behind that were floor to ceiling glass windows that overlooked the snow-capped mountains. Standing in front of the fireplace and roasting himself like a marshmallow was a familiar head of pink hair.

Jimin turned at the sound of your footsteps, bare collar bones poking out from the top of his unzippered ski-coat. His hair was dripping with melted snow and the usual golden hue of his skin was heated with pink. Jimin’s plump lips pulled back into a grin, flashing you his crooked front tooth.

“Hey! Look who finally decided to arrive!”

Hoseok’s brown hair poked out from underneath the thick wool blanket thrown over his head from his seat on one of the couches. You could tell that someone had managed to get the scaredy cat out onto the ski slopes by the pale complection of his skin. His snow boots were scattered on the floor around the couch haphazardly while his fluffy-socked feet were tucked underneath his thighs.  

“Sorry we’re late.” Yoongi spoke from behind you, though his tone didn’t sound very apologetic.

“You missed the whole first day!” Jimin complained as he approached with his arms outstretched. He enveloped you into his hold first, his damp hair brushing the top of your head and his warm breath ghosting your ear. “It’s been a while, Princess. Glad to see you.”

“You too, Jiminie.”

Your own arms wrapped around the man’s slim shoulders and his sweet smelling cologne cocooned your nose with a scent you could only call Jimin. He gave your waist one last squeeze before parting from you and moving over to your brother. Yoongi wrinkled his nose in disgust, but didn’t move away when Jimin crushed him in a hug of his own.

Jimin hadn’t been lying. It really had been a while since you’d last seen each other. Even though you were the same age, you went to university at Columbia in the city and Jimin spent his days performing on Broadway. You’d only get to see each other when he had a gap between shows, or during the holidays when everyone had breaks in their schedules.

“You look miserable.” You smirked down at Hoseok as you stood in front of him. The older man looked like a pathetic, soggy burrito wrapped in the blanket like that. He pouted up at you with his heart-shaped lips and dimples and warm brown eyes.

“You have no idea.” Hoseok replied with a sniffle of his red-tipped nose. His socked feet hit the floor as he stood, towering over you. “But it’s nice to see you.”

If you had to rate your friends based on hugs, Hoseok would be the winner without a doubt. Despite his cold fingers, the rest of him was warm, familiar, comforting. Not counting your brother (though you weren’t so sure nowadays), Hoseok was the one you were closest to. His bright personality and welcoming persona drew you to him like the ray of sunshine he was nicknamed after.

“I just saw you two days ago, Hobi.” Your humor filled words were muffled into his shoulder.

His shrug pulled you closer. “Two days too long, Princess.”  

With a snort and a roll of your eyes, you pushed him away playfully. “You’re lame.”

Hoseok stumbled back into the couch dramatically with a hand pressed against his chest. He shot you a fake wounded look. “Lame? Me? Ouch.”

“You’re both lame.” Jimin butt into the conversation, slithering his way between the two of you to stand back in front of the fireplace. Ignoring the pink haired man, Hoseok darted over to your brother with a squee! His socks skid across the floor as he lifted the blond in the air with a tight hug of greeting.  

Yoongi made a noise of annoyance, though the gummy smile that overtook his face told a different story. Hoseok was one of the only people who were capable of bringing out Yoongi’s playful side. While the two of them had their reunion, you busied yourself with plopping down on Hoseok’s abandoned couch.

“Where’s everyone else?” You asked Jimin. The heat of the fireplace brushed the thick padding of your coat and threatened to make you break out into a sweat. With a few practiced movements, you managed to shed your plaid printed coat and scarf, leaving you in a knee-length green sweater dress and black leggings.

“I--”

Like magic, the front doors of the lobby swung open, bringing with it a gust of cold bitter air and the trademarked ha-ha-ha! of Namjoon’s loud laughter. In stumbled the rest of the group: Jin, Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook.

“Is it lunchtime yet?” The question came from Jungkook as he shook out the snow from his hair. A pair of ski-goggles were perched on top of his head, but he ignored it in favor of stripping his hands of gloves. The bottom of his boots tracked in snow like it was his job, but it wasn’t like he noticed.

“We just ate two hours ago!” Jin scolded the younger without heat. His honey colored skin was splotched with shades of red from the cold air. Though somehow it only seemed to accentuate his handsome, angelic features.

“Yeah, but I’m starving.”

“Still a pig, I see.” The group stopped in their tracks at the sound of Yoongi’s voice echoing in the lobby.

With a big, boxy grin, Taehyung yelled in excitement and sprinted across the floor of the lobby, his own blond hair dripping wet. “Yoongi!”

“You’re tracking snow everywhere!” Jin’s shout carried well beyond the lobby.

                                Present Time

“That was way before we even played that stupid drinking game.” Taehyung grumbled in annoyance. His eyes were glued to the whiteboard as Jin neatly wrote out the list of events. He was having each and every person go over what had happened from their own point of view. “So why do we have to go over all the boring shit?”

Jin turned to glare at the blond over his shoulder. “Because what I said goes.”

Taehyung simply raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well no one cares about this. Let’s just cut to the interesting bits.”

Before Jin could rip Taehyung to shreds with his heated scowl, Namjoon spoke around the rim of his glass of water. “I hate to agree, but I do.”

“Third.” Jungkook raised his hand in the air like a child in a school classroom.

“Fourth.” You finally spoke up, fingers toying with the cap of your bottle of San Pellegrino.

“Fifth.” Surprisingly, Jimin’s voice came out clear and uninfluenced by half the bottle of liquor he’d downed.

Yoongi just grunted his own agreement, eyes lidded with what looked to be exhaustion, but what you could tell was anxiety.

“Seriously?” Jin waved the marker in his hand around wildly. His eyes landed on Hoseok who just shrugged silently. He hadn’t spoken ever since Taehyung made that comment to him almost an hour ago. “Whatever. Fine. We’ll move on.”

The eldest took a swig out of his glass of scotch and turned back to the board. “We’ll start with the night of the game, then.”

                         Thirty-Two Hours Ago

“Okay, rules of the game.”

Namjoon stood in the center of the seating area with a shot glass full of tequila raised high above his head to gather attention. The eight of you were scattered around in a circle on the various couches and chaise lounge chairs in the sitting area of Jin’s room. It was long after the group of you hit the mountains for some intense snow tubing. And after you’d all headed back to your rooms to shower and get ready for dinner served by some michelin star chef that Jin staffed.

Now, with bellies full and body’s warm, you all sat around in your most comfortable clothes. Multiple bottles of alcohol were lined up on the bar in Jin’s room, but a handle of tequila was currently serving as centerpiece on the coffee table.

From your spot in the middle of the comfy couch, squished between Taehyung and Jimin, you had your own shot glass in hand. It’d recently been refilled, since the group took one together to start off the night. With fire seeping through your veins, you paid special attention to the words coming from Namjoon’s lips, even though you knew the rules of the game by heart. The crackle of the lit fireplace behind the other couch threatened to drown out his deep, raspy voice.

“The name of the game is Sip, Snitch, Spill, or otherwise known as Triple S. Starting from oldest to youngest,” Namjoon gestured to Jin with his shot glass, ignoring the tequila that spilled onto his fingers. He then turned in a slow circle clockwise. Everyone was sitting in age order.

Namjoon pointed at the empty beer bottle on the table. “The one who’s turn it is has to spin the bottle and whoever it lands on gets to choose the dare that the person who’s turn it is has to complete. If they opt out of completing the dare, then they have to spill a secret that no one here knows. But it can’t be something stupid that no one cares about; only top secret shit here. Each person only gets three seconds to decide which option to take.

“After that, everyone in the room gets the opportunity to snitch. If someone knows a secret about you that no one else does, they can snitch to the group and skip their turn. If you fail to take the dare, you have to take a shot. If someone snitches on you, then you have to take two shots.”

Everyone glanced at each other with mistrustful, playful eyes. While the game was fun, it was costly as well. Because in the world of the elite, nothing was more valuable than a secret.

“Do all here agree to the rules?” Namjoon raised a brow.

“Here, here!” The shouts of seven people filled the room and overpowered the music flowing from the surround sound speakers.

“Then let’s get messy.” A smirk lifted at the corner of Namjoon’s mouth as he finally took his seat on the other side of Hoseok.

“That sounds dirty. Let’s not.” Jin wrinkled his nose with a huff of amusement.

“What I think you meant to say was,” the comment came from Jimin as he unnecessarily knocked back a shot. “‘That sounds dirty. Let’s.’”

“Anyway.” Yoongi rolled his eyes and elbowed Jin in the ribs from his spot next to him on the love seat. “Start.”

The eldest hummed and rubbed at his chin dramatically as he eyed the empty beer bottle. Like he’d actually have a choice on who it landed on. Jin took his time leaning forward and grabbed the body of the bottle with three fingers, ignoring the groans of impatience coming from the circle. Finally, with a flick of his wrist, he spun it.

Around and around it went, the green of the glass glinting under the overhead lights. Everyone was at the edge of their seats, minds calculating what dare they’d make the elder do, as they waited for it to stop.

“Hah!” Hoseok cheered, doing a stupidly cute dance in his seat at the chances of being the first to give a dare. The leather chaise lounge he sat on made a sound of protest at his rapid movements. But he ignored it in favor of pointing a finger at Jin with a flourish. “I dare you to give Yoongi a lap dance!”

Ooooh!’s erupted from around the circle as each and every person screamed in excitement. Jin’s mouth dropped open in disbelief and he gaped at Hoseok with a look that said dude, seriously?

“Woo!” Jimin’s contagious giggle left his lips, eyes squeezed shut in amusement. “What a way to start.”

“I’m not drunk enough for that.” Jin knocked his shot back and grimaced at the taste. “I slept with my personal assistant last month. Then I fired her.”

“Wait, so if you were drunk enough then you’d do it?” Hoseok’s comment was rudely ignored by Jin.

“Linda?” Jungkook gaped at the older man from his place on the other lounge chair across from Hoseok. “Isn’t she in her late fifties?”

With a shrug of indifference, Jin poured himself another shot. “And?”

“Wow.” Taehyung tutted around the laughter that bubbled up his throat. “Did you really have to fire her though? That’s harsh.”

“She started to get feelings for me.” Jin shrugged yet again. “After I specifically told her not to.”

“Poor Linda.” With a shake of your head, you crossed one leg over the other. You could remember briefly meeting the woman once. She’d been kind yet carried a no-nonsense air about her, which made you wonder just how Jin had managed to bed her. Though you supposed he had his ways. He always did.

“Sometimes it’s hard to be this handsome.” The eldest’s unabashed response had everyone cringing as he broke out into his trademark windshield wiper laugh.

“Moving on.” Yoongi reached forward to spin the bottle without waiting for anyone’s attention. Everyone’s eyes were once again glued on the glass as it spun.

“Huh.” Namjoon hummed from his seat on the leather recliner next to Hoseok. The honey haired man steepled his fingers in front of his chin in thought.

“Why did it have to land on him?” Taehyung pouted. “He takes forever to decide.”

“I do not!” Though the seconds that ticked by into minutes told a different story.

It was clear the moment an invisible lightbulb went off over his head. The dimpled man jumped up from his chair and cleared the room to disappear around the corner into the kitchen. Before anyone could question what the hell he was doing, Namjoon reappeared back into the room with a gallon of skim milk and set it on the table in front of Yoongi.

“I dare you to chase every shot you take with a shot of milk.”

“Ew, what?” You stuck your tongue out in absolute disgust. Though it could barely be heard over the fake retching noises coming from the rest of the boys.

“What’s wrong with milk?” Jungkook asked innocently, causing everyone to shoot him a look.

Yoongi just stared at the gallon of milk thoughtfully before shrugging and knocking back his shot of tequila. The room watched on in shock as he then poured milk into the glass and swallowed that as well.

“Yoongi!” Jin pressed himself into the arm of the couch in an attempt to get as far away from your brother as possible. His handsome features were scrunched up in revolution. “You know you didn’t need to do that, right? Since you took the dare?”

With his gaze focused on refilling his shot glass with tequila, Yoongi’s face remained blank. “I’m not a bitch.”

“O-kay.” Hoseok dragged out the word with a grimace and slid forward on his chair to take his turn. “Let’s all just pretend we never saw that. Anyway.”

The game continued with Hoseok and Namjoon both taking dares. Hoseok had to strip down to his underwear and stand outside on the balcony for five whole minutes. He’d returned inside a shivering, pale mess. Jungkook had taken a ridiculous amount of pictures of him literally crying from the cold to hold over his head as blackmail at some later point in time.

Namjoon had been dared by Jin to order a bunch of lingerie to be delivered to his ex-girlfriend. That one had everyone begging him not to do it. Because unfortunately the last girl Namjoon had dated turned out to be a complete psychopath who stalked him for months on end after he dumped her. But the man just shrugged and stated, “I like them crazy.”

When it was Jimin’s turn, the pink haired man licked his lips in anticipation and spun the bottle. It didn’t turn very fast, just barely cleared two loops around the group before it pointed straight at you.

Jimin turned to you with a smile on his pretty lips. “Give me your best shot, Princess.”

Your own eyes narrowed at the challenge in his and you pursed your lips in thought. No way would you let him get off easily, especially not with the way he was looking at you. So with a smirk quirking your mouth, you spoke, “I dare you to call up your job right now and tell them you quit.”

Another round ooh!’s came from the group at your words and Jimin gaped at you in open mouthed disbelief. “Seriously?”

You gave Jimin a saccharine smile. Normally, you wouldn’t be so vindictive against him, but you were never one to turn down a challenge.

He knocked back his shot and slammed the glass down on the table with a glare directed at you. With a smack of his lips, Jimin begrudgingly addressed the group. “You know how I was able to join my broadway show after open auditions closed last year?”

Jimin’s eyes were glued to the table as everyone murmured their agreement. He was the only one out of your group who didn’t come from a successful family. Instead, he’d had to build both himself and his reputation from the ground up. It’d been hard on him, had taken a lot from him. But now, he starred in one of the most successful, famous broadway shows.

The silver rings on Jimin’s hand caught the light as he thumbed his plump bottom lip. His words came out hesitant, confession caught in his throat. “Yeah, well, I only got the spot because I slept with the director.”

“But you’re so talented!” Now you were the one staring in open mouthed shock. Never would you have expected that to come out of his mouth.

Jimin brushed off your comment and filled his shot glass once again. His words were murmured into the table. “They didn’t think so.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone took time to absorb the information. You weren’t kidding when you’d said that he was talented. You’d never seen someone who could dance as gracefully as he could or who could sing with the soft, unique voice that only Jimin possessed.

“Anyway,” he elbowed you gently and nodded at the bottle. “Your turn.”

The glass was cool under your fingers. You watched intently as around and around and around it went. There weren’t a lot of secrets that you had to hide from your group of friends. Usually, you were pretty transparent. Not only that, but you were the only one in Bangtan made a conscious effort to stay out of drama or scandals. Hence the nickname: High Rise Princess.

“Oh, no.” You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you had the worst luck ever. God, you hated that game.

“Well, well, well. How the turn tables.” Jimin threw an arm around your neck teasingly and pulled you into his side. His fingers rubbed at his chin menacingly as he stared at you out of the corner of his eye. The man didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “Let’s see.”

“This’ll be good.” Taehyung relaxed back against the arm of the couch with a smirk of his own.

The second you saw Jimin’s eyes flicker to the blond and the cheshire-cat-esque smile on his face widen, you knew you were in trouble. He gave your shoulder a squeeze before letting go and pushing you over to Taehyung. “Okay, Princess. For your dare, you have to make out with Taehyung for a minimum of thirty seconds.”

The room exploded  and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You were known for being “pure” or whatever bull they labeled you as and the fact that you’d never dated any of them, it was kind of a big deal.

“Jimin, what the fuck?” All attention went to Yoongi, who was staring Jimin down with a harsh scowl. He really was overprotective of you when it came to pretty much anything. And that included any and all men.

Jimin just shrugged, but didn’t appear very apologetic. “Sorry, man. But she doesn’t have to do it.”

“I’m not a bitch.” You echoed your brother’s words from earlier before turning to Taehyung. His eyebrows were raised into his hairline and his mouth was agape, but the look in his eyes shone with sudden interest. So you couldn’t help tilting your head to the side and challenging, “unless you are.”

Hoseok’s loud screech and Jin’s obnoxious windshield wiper laugh overpowered everyone else’s exclaims of surprised disbelief. The fact that you weren’t even drunk meant that you couldn’t blame your actions on the alcohol. If you were being honest, you were just tired of everyone looking at you as some kind of sexual pariah. Like you were incapable of being intimate with another person. Maybe it was because you’d all grown up together that they saw you that way, you weren’t sure. But you hated it.

It was suffocating to have to force yourself to be someone that you weren’t.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that Taehyung was one of the most beautiful men that you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“I don’t want to see this. I’m going to the bathroom” Your brother rose from his seat with one last glare shot at both Jimin and Taehyung. “Don’t make me kick your ass.”

The atmosphere after Yoongi disappeared was the kind of tension that you only felt when watching a car crash. Like you just couldn’t look away. Hoseok was on the edge of his seat with his jaw hanging open, Jimin was frozen in a state of excited incredulity, across from you Jin covered his eyes with his hands while he continued to laugh, and Namjoon--

“Come here, Princess.” Taehyung scooted closer to you on the couch and gently placed his hands on either of your cheeks.

His warmth seeped into you from his palms and the husky scent of his Dior cologne washed over you. Taehyung was a touchy person by nature, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t cuddled up to you on multiple occasions. But this time was different. Be it from the way his eyes were half-lidded with an emotion you’d never seen him direct at you, or for the way his voice dipped a few octaves deeper from his usual baritone.

“You can still back out.” The words were spoken softly, only for your ears. But his eyes flickered down to your lips when you murmured,

“Why? You scared?”

Without acknowledging Hoseok’s squawk, Taehyung huffed. He didn’t even give you a moment to prepare yourself before he closed the distance and his mouth was on yours.

His lips were both warm and soft. And despite the firm way his hands held you in place, Taehyung’s kiss was gentle. Just the right amount of pressure that bordered on tender and not enough. So when you pressed your lips harder to his to deepen the kiss, you felt the smirk that twitched at the corner of his mouth as he obliged.

The heat of a stare burned into the side of your face, but you brushed it off in favor of parting your mouth at Taehyung’s questioning lick to your bottom lip. His tongue met yours in a dance and you could taste the remnants of tequila on his breath as his fingers tangled in your hair. Your own hands remained still in your lap, but you couldn’t help but press closer at his urging.

“And that’s time!” Jimin’s voice sounded from somewhere behind you. “Thirty seconds are up!”

Whether he didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him, Taehyung crushed his lips harder to yours in a breath stealing kiss.

“Or not.”

With one last lingering press of his mouth, Taehyung caught your bottom lip and dragged it slowly between his teeth as he pulled away. His fingers left your hair and he sent you a flirtatious wink before casually leaning back to his side of the couch, taking his warmth with him. All while dragging his tongue across his kiss bruised lips.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t at least a little bit turned on. It was no wonder he had both men and women falling at his feet left and right.

“That was hot, not gonna lie.” Hoseok whistled, falling back against his chair. “But weird at the same time.”

“Agreed.” Nodded Namjoon slowly. The expression on his face was a mixed bag, stuck somewhere between horror and something else.

“It was okay.” You shrugged nonchalantly, facing back towards the coffee table once more. Out of the corner of your eye Taehyung snapped his head towards you so fast that you were briefly concerned for the muscles in his neck.

“Oka-”

“It’s your turn.” The cheeky smile you sent Taehyung’s way coaxed a hard laugh out of Jimin.

The petite man threw an arm over your shoulders once more and pulled you into his side. Though with the way he could barely hold himself up with his body shaking laughter, it was more like he was leaning on you than the other way around. “A few months apart and it’s like you’re a whole new person. Who are you, Princess?”

The game continued once your brother returned from the bathroom. He’d entered the room and eyed Taehyung with a look that would have any lesser man trembling in his seat. But Taehyung had just given him his cute, boxy smile and took his spin.

Around and around the bottle spun as everyone took their turn. But it was only a matter of time before Jin finally snapped.

“Alright, this is boring! Everyone’s just picking dare and I want some juicy gossip.” His head fell back against the couch with a dramatic sigh. And he took a moment to bask in the attention of everyone in the room before he turned his head, rosy cheek pressed against the couch to address Hoseok. “Go make us some stronger drinks or something. I’m barely buzzed.”

Hoseok simply raised an eyebrow, arm still extended to take his turn.

“Yeah, Hoseokie.” Jungkook mocked in a high pitched voice, lips pursed in a dramatic air kiss. “Go make us drinks.”

“Yah, brat!” Said man kicked a foot half heartedly at Jungkook, not that it would have dealt any damage anyway seeing how far apart they were sitting. “Maybe if you ask nicely I will.”

“Nevermind.” With a shrug, Jungkook leaned back in his seat, “I don’t want it that badly.”

“Please, Hobi. I’ll take literally anything other than tequila.” Namjoon sent his full shot glass a dirty look. He always had preferred dark liquor.

“Well since one of you knows how to use their manners.” That was it took to have Hoseok hopping out of his chair and sauntering around the corner to the kitchen with a shout over his shoulder. “No one play without me!”

“Make something strong!” Jin called after him, standing up himself. Brushing off everyone’s eyes on him, he straightened his shirt and stepped away from the couch. “Bathroom. Be right back.”

And then he made himself scarce as well.

“Well since everyone’s taking a break.” Jimin was staring down at the screen of his phone. You could just barely see a name flash across the screen as it vibrated in his hand. Standing, he gestured blindly to the front door. “I gotta take this.”

“Which booty call is it?” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows at the petite man suggestively right before he exited the room. “Not that it’ll do any good out here. Unless they can teleport.”

“That would be a cool superpower.” The comment came from Jungkook, who was busying himself by playing some game on his phone. No one paid attention to the sound of the front door closing.

“Right?”

“You guys are lame.” Yoongi absentmindedly toyed with the milk jug on the floor with his foot, his attention taken up by whatever was on his phone.

He either felt your stare or you were just that predictable, because Yoongi looked up to  scrutinize you. His eyes narrowed and flashed over to Taehyung and back to you with an eyebrow raised. A silent, questioning what’s was that?

You only shook your head with a roll of your eyes and the protective anger simmering behind your brother’s eyes dimmed at your wordless, nothing, relax. It was a little relieving that even with the distance between the both of you, the ability to read each other’s mind was still there. And must have felt similar if the small smile at the corner of his mouth was any indication.

“Alright!” Hoseok’s loud voice filtered into the room as he rounded the corner with a tray held between both hands. Eight glasses filled with a yellow, bubbling liquid were balanced on top and you took a moment to silently pray for luck.There was a reason why Hoseok was always chosen to make drinks. And you wouldn’t make it out alive if you didn’t pace yourself.

“Wow, perfect timing.” From around the corner leading to the hallway emerged Jin. He eyed the suspicious looking drinks as he reclaimed his seat. “What’s in it?”

With a noise to seal everyone’s fate, the tray was placed on the table. Both Yoongi and Jungkook looked up from their phones and Namjoon paused to eye the glasses. Hoseok just shrugged. “No idea. There’s like--”

He halted his words and you could literally see the way mentally made calculations in his head. “Like five different types of alcohol in those? I think.”

“Better than tequila at least.” Namjoon shrugged and grabbed a glass for himself. He hesitated for a moment to sniff at the contents, like that would somehow help him discern what it was he was about to drink. And finally, he shrugged and took a tiny sip.

Everyone’s attention was on him as he tongued his lips and hummed. “Not bad. Kinda sweet actually.”

Namjoon’s conscensious was apparently all anyone else needed because you all reached forward to grab your own. But you couldn’t help but suspiciously eye the liquid in your cup first.

“Where’s Jimin?” Jin asked around a big swallow and an obnoxious smack of his lips.

“Taking a phone call.” Taehyung walked around Hoseok, who was still standing in front of the table, and reached for a dangerous cocktail. “He’ll probably be a while.”

“Should we wait then?” You asked.

“It wouldn’t be as fun without him.” Hoseok winked down at you. “Who knows what other secrets he has.”

“Messy.” Shaking his head, Jin snorted into his glass.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Jungkook stated nonchalantely, though the shit eating smirk on his lips told another story.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

You tuned out the bickering between the eldest and the youngest, especially when Taehyung joined in. Somehow they always managed to bring out the immature side of Jin, not that the mature side of the man appeared that often either. The alcohol was sweet, yet tangy on your tongue with an addictive aftertaste that chased away the bitter remnants of tequila. It was easy to drink more than intended with how difficult it was to percieve the alcohol content.

“Hey, Hoseok.” Namjoon’s raspy voice was almost drowned out by the yelling between the others. Both Hoseok and yourself looked over to the dimpled man, only to see him completely enraptured by the glass in his hands. Namjoon’s voice came out unsure, confused. “What did you put in this?”

“What?” Perplexed, Hoseok tilted his head. “I told you, like five--”

Namjoon cut him off with a small shake of his own head. “No. What did you put in this?”

“I don’t--”

“Did you drop acid in these?” Namjoon’s question caught the curiosity of the others in the room. Even Yoongi looked up from whatever he was reading on his phone.

Hoseok sent his drink a puzzled look. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” Mouth agape, you stared up at the man with a look of disbelief. “How do you not know?”

By the wide-eyed look he shot your way, you could already garner a guess. And apparently so could everyone else.

“Have you been tripping this whole time?” Taehyung collapsed back onto his end of the couch laughing so hard that you were a little concerned for the liquid splashing at the rim of his cup.

“Uh.” How you all missed his dialated pupils were was incredible. Hoseok paused for a moment before whirling around to face Namjoon. “Wait, how would you even be feeling it this quick if I had? It’s been like ten minutes, it shouldn’t have hit if I did.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon was still staring incredulously at the almost empty glass clutched in his hand. “Then why is my cup looking at me right now?”

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right!” The sudden panic that welled up in your chest surged to your throat as you waved your almost empty cup at Hoseok. “I just drank like all of this! What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Never in your life had you ever taken fucking acid. Maybe some marijuana here or there, but that was about the extent of your recreational drug experience. God, what the hell had you gotten yourself into?

“Not freak out, that’s for sure.” Taehyung wet his lips and raised his glass to you in a salute before knocking it back. His adam’s apple bobbed as he chugged the whole glass of alcohol in one go.

“Maybe you should go lay down.” From across the room your brother gave you a concerned once over. He was extremely calm given the circumstances. Then again he used to hang out with Hoseok the most so he’d probably actually partaken before. “Try and sleep it off before it hits.”

Slowly, you nodded in agreement, already rising from the couch. You were pretty positive that you were the only person in the room who hadn’t taken the drug. And the thought of experiencing LSD was enough to tighten your chest with panic. Maybe it would be best if you tried to sleep before it properly hit your system.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

“Wait.” Hoseok stumbled over to you and grabbed at your arm. Before you could process what was happening, he slipped a pen out of the pocket of his pants and glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall. The scratching of the pen against your skin caught your attention as Hoseok wrote out the time from ten minutes ago.

“What’s this for?”

“That’s the time you drank it. It’ll be important later just in case you don’t know when or where you are.” Ignoring your I’m sorry, what?, Hoseok looked up at you from underneath his lashes. “Since this is your first time, I need you to pay strict attention to what I’m about to say, Princess. Got it?”

All you could do was nod your head, mind too overrun by alarm. Hoseok paused for a moment to convey the importance of what he was about to say next.

“Three rules for being on acid. One, and this doesn’t really apply to this situation, but it’s important: cars are real, okay? Two: anything you want to try, do it from the ground first. And three: don’t trust everything you see.”

“Very imformative.” Came Namjoon’s sarcastic reply. “Would have been helpful ten minutes ago.”

Hoseok paid no heed to the comment, too busy looking you over with concern. “Do you want me to walk you to your room?”

How he was completely functional was mind-blowing to you. But then again, with the amount of pressure his parents put on him to take over a company that he didn’t want, you weren’t surprised by the frequency of how much he tried to make himself forget.

“I think I’ll be okay.” You reassured both Hoseok and the rest of the room with a small smile. Gratefully, no one commented on how forced it was.

The only thing you wanted to do was collapse in bed before it was too late. Besides, it wasn’t like you weren’t tired anyway. It’d been a long day.

“If you’re sure.” Hoseok flashed his dimples and the rest of the room bid you goodnight as you slipped from the room.

                               Present Time

“Why are you all staring at me?” You asked incredulously.

“Because you left early.” The capped end of the marker tapped against Jin’s cheek from where he stood in front of the almost filled whiteboard.

“And?”

“And.” Jin stared at you over the rim of his glass of scotch. “That makes you a suspect.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Gaping, you surveyed the rest of the room to find them all looking at you with various degrees of doubt.

From your side piped up Hoseok for the first time in hours and the hoarsness of his voice showed it. “Wait, wait, wait. She wasn’t the only one who left. Besides, wouldn’t that not make her a suspect since she wasn’t even there when we all told each other our secrets?”

His statement gave Jin pause.

Yoongi scrunched his eyebrows together in bewilderment at the statement. “Who else left?”

A moment of silence.

A quick intake of breath.

Hoseok turning to stare at you with wide eyes that knew too much. And it seemed like he wasn’t the only quick witted one in the room because Namjoon’s jaw dropped open in shock.

“I’m confused.” Jin pursed his lips in annoyance at the scene. “Explain.”

Hoseok just shook his head, scandalized. And upon seeing how Hoseok failed to explain, Namjoon took it upon himself to do the honors, ignoring your pleading eyes with an apologetic expression. The fucking traitor.

He cleared his throat, “One person left the room after her. Remember?”

Said person froze, eyes wide and breath stalling in his throat as all attention switched to him.

“Oh yeah.” Nodding, Jin turned his analysing gaze to the person in question. “Where did you go?”

You could literally see the moment that the cogs in your brother’s brain halted and the split second the realization slowly dawned on his face. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension as your brother stood from the couch with absolute rage clouding his face. Fists clenched at his sides like he had to physically stop himself from exploding, Yoongi’s words were bitten out between his teeth.

“You fucked my sister?”

“I-” Jungkook sprang up from the couch, hands raised in surrender and doe eyes blown wide. The rest of the room was too busy staring on in shock (Taehyung), or in messy interest (Jimin), or open mouthed surprise (Jin) to step inbetween Jungkook and your brother. “It’s not what you think.”

Yoongi was seething, tonguing his cheek in a way that warned how close he was to snapping. “Not what I think.”

Jungkook nodded his head vigorously, shooting you a look begging for an assist. But you didn’t know what to say to stop it. And upon noticing your hesistation, Jungkook turned back to your brother and uttered a sentence that sealed his fate in the worst way possible.

“We’re not even dating!”

While Jungkook had enough muscle and strength to disuede a majority of people from trying to pick a fight with him, Yoongi was small and lithe, but strong in a way that most people wouldn’t expect. Your brother had been in many fights throughout the years; he used to hang around the wrong crowd growing up. He was rarely angry, his patience was almost never ending. But if you managed to push him over that line, well, everyone knew not to get on Yoongi’s bad side.

His face clouded, feet carrying him into Jungkook’s personal space. Yoongi’s voice was dangerous and words slow. “So you’re just using my sister for sex?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened even further with panic, but he didn’t step down, didn’t move out of your brother’s range. “That’s not--that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah? Then what did you mean?” Even you could tell that the question was rhetorical.

The tenstion of an impending fight finally spurred you to stand up and stumble a few steps closer to the pair, voice pleading. “Yoongi.”

He turned to glance at you from over his shoulder with furious cat-like eyes and hackles bristled. His stare froze you in your tracks, but you continued on regardless. “It’s fine.”

“Fine.” Yoongi’s tone was blank before he rounded on you. “How long?”

There was nothing that would ever make you feel as small as the way he was looking at you right then. Like he didn’t know who you were, like he was staring into the face of a stranger. Your voice was tiny. “A few months.”

Your brother nodded his head, lips tight. “So you’ve been going behind my back, lying to me, for months?”

He rounded back on Jungkook. “You’ve been fucking my sister for months?”

Again, the question was rhetorical, but apparently Jungkook missed the way you quickly shook your head at him to keep his mouth shut. “I--yes?”

You knew it was coming and yet you we still taken by surprise.

A crack rang heavy in the air as Yoongi’s fist impacted Jungkook’s face. He stumbled back with a hand flying to grasp at the pain you knew was radiating through his jaw. But Jungkook didn’t hit back, didn’t give your brother the fight that he was looking for. He just stood there, palm pressed to his face and eyes rooted to the floor. You couldn’t make out his expression by the way his long hair fell in front of his face like a curtain.

Yoongi, however, looked far from satisfied.

By the was his back tensed, you knew that he was going to go for seconds, and probably thirds, maybe even fourths. Until he felt like Jungkook had paid enough retribution for him to stop. And that, it seemed, was where Jin drew the line.

“Yoongi.” Jin’s voice was almost hesitant. Even the elder man knew that your brother was on a very short fuse and didn’t want to be on the recieving end of the backlash.

Yoongi’s attention flickered over to Jin for a split second and that was all it took for the elder man to step forward. “Kick his ass later, I don’t care. But now isn’t the time; we have bigger fish to fry.”

There was a long, tense filled silence where no one dared to move. Jin just stood his ground, gaze holding your brother’s and refusing to back down. And whether or not that's what broke the fight apart, you weren’t sure. But with one last hostile glare at Jungkook, Yoongi turned on his heel and brushed past you without a second glance.

“Do what the fuck you want.”

The balcony door slammed shut so hard you flinched.

“That was..,” Taehyung let out a low whistle, shaking his head at Jungkook first and then you. With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he smirked. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Princess. Congrats on finally losing your innocence.”

You weren’t one to pick a fight with anybody, didn’t like confrontation. But all of the stress made you snap. “Shut your fucking mouth, Taehyung.”

From the corner of your eye, Jimin sipped at his scotch with eyes flitting back and forth between you and the blond to watch the drama unfold. There was a pause in the air before Namjoon filled it. “Let’s just finish what we came here to do.”

His words went in one ear and out the other, your attention focused more on the figure of your brother slumped over the balcony railing. Your feet carried you across the room before you could second guess yourself. The handle of the sliding door was cold against your palm as you slid it open. And the sudden breeze that hit your face was biting.

Cigarette smoke.

Yoongi hadn’t smoked cigarettes since he was in highschool. You didn’t even know where he got one. Guilt sank heavily in your stomach at being the catalyst to the habit he’d spent so long trying to kick.

Not even the noise of city life could cover the sound of your heart beating a tattoo into your rib cage. Yoongi didn’t move, didn’t even turn to look at you when you stood next to him. He just continued to stare down at the people below who covered the streets like ants. A lit cigarette dangled in his hand over the railing, white smoke disappearing into the sky. You let the quiet stretch for a few moments longer in order to gauge his anger. And when he failed to acknowledge your presense, you spoke.

“I wanted to tell you.” The words that left your lips were carried by the wind, but you knew he heard them anyway by the way his jaw clenched in your periphrial. A deep breath, and then, “But I was afraid.”

Whatever he thought you were going to say must not have been that because he angled his head to look at you. But you kept your vision trained on the cars passing far below. The silence he responded with urged you to continue.

“I didn’t want you to look at me the way you are now.”

Yoongi rubbed the end of his cigarette against the railing to extinguish it. And finally, his deep voice broke the bubble that encased the two of you. “You thought I’d be disappointed.”

Leave it to him to be able to dig right to the root of your problems with barely any information. He was called a genuis for a reason, you supposed.

A huff of dry laughter passed your lips. “Which you are.”

“Only because you hid it from me.”

His response had you turning to look over at him. Yoongi was staring at a spot on the building across from you without seeing it, jaw sharp and cheeks already turning red in the winter air. It was a testiment to his anger that he was even enduring it in the first place.

“You really think I’d be disappointed in you for being an adult? You must not know me as well as I thought then.”

He turned, brown eyes meeting your own like a mirror. People always used to say that the two of you looked alike, could pass as twins even. “I don’t want to hear the details of your...business, but I thought you’d at least trust me enough to confide in me that you’re in love with him.”

Yoongi’s words took you aback and you gaped at him in shock. “How did you know?”

He simply raised an eyebrow with a silent really? “It’s pretty obvious.”

“Seriously?” You spluttered, spit catching in your throat. Had you really been that obvious? Talk about embarassing.

He sighed. “I think the only person who hasn’t realized is him.”

Groaning, you buried your face in your hands. “Do you think anyone would notice if I just jumped over the railing right now?”

Yoongi hummed, not even trying to hide his amusement. “I don’t think Jin would want to have to fill out that kind of paperwork.”

“He’ll live. Might even thank me for the free publicity.”

A snort left your brother before he sobered and leaned his elbows on the railing. A comforting pause and then, “I got signed to a record label.”

“What?” You twisted to the side to stare him down as he nervously ran a hand through his blond hair. “As a producer?”

Yoongi’s eyes met your again, most likely trying to gauge your reaction to what he was going to say next. Whatever he found must have satisfied him. “As an artist.”

“Yoongi.”

He broke eye contact to once again stare down at the tiny dots below. “That’s where I was this morning. I was signing my contract.”

Your hands came up to grasp onto the arm closest to you and you squeezed to gain his attention. “That’s so great, Yoongi! I know you used to rap back in the day, but I didn’t know you still did. I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be so amazing!”

A gummy smile finally found its way onto his face as he looked at you with masked excitement. “Yeah?”

“Seriously, Yoongs.” You nodded your head with rapid quickness, a grin revealing your teeth. “I want the first copy of your album. And it better be signed too.”

Yoongi hissed through his teeth. “You’ll have to pay a premium for that, sorry.”

Your hand slapped the covered meat of his arm and your laughter that intermingled with his broke through the invisible wall between you. “Aish. Cheapskate.”

His lips parted, most likely to shoot off a sarcastic response, but the sliding of the balcony door interrupted. Both of you turned to look over at Namjoon standing in the entryway. His face was taut with an emotion you couldn’t discern, but with the way raised voices spilled from the open door answered your unasked question. You exchanged glances with Yoongi before trailing after him as he brushed past Namjoon.

Everyone was standing now, attention trained on the way Taehyung once again stood in the center of the room. He glanced up from the phone in his hand at the entrance of you and Yoongi, his other stuffed deep in the pocket of his slacks. The air he carried was haughty, knowing. And he greeted you with a raise of his brows.

“Well, now that we’re all present, let’s get this out of the way, shall we?”

“What’s going on?” Your feet came to a halt as you slid in to stand next to Hoseok and your brother. The former gave you a tiny smile at seeing the tenstion between you and Yoongi gone.

“What’s going on,” Taehyung waved his phone in the air like a token. “Is that while you two were off settling your differences, I got a text.”

“Congratulations.” Yoongi deadpanned, but the model ignored him in favor of continuing.

“I think you’ll be interested in what I have to say.” Taehyung shrugged and barreled on without waiting for a response. “Because you see, while you all were too busy playing Clue, I got into contact with my cousin earlier this morning. You know, the one who works for my mother’s magazine company?

“Anyway, as you all probably aren’t aware of, my cousin used to do some side work with the government in cybersecurity. And wouldn’t you know, Gossip Girl isn’t as untouchable as she thinks.”

“Oh, shit.” Namjoon’s eyes widened as he came to the same conclusion that was slowly starting to dawn on everyone else.

“Oh shit is right.” Taehyung nodded. “My cousin found a backdoor past her firewall and straight into the heart of her most coveted possession.”

The man paused, like a movie villian right before a grand reveal. “Her sources.”

“And?” Jin tossed the dry eraser he still held in his hand onto the coffee table imaptiently.

“And wouldn’t you know,” once again, Taehyung waved his phone back and forth in the air like the cat that caught the canary. “At exactly 3:32 this morning, she got an email from a recipient by the name of...”

“I swear to god, stop playing games Taehyung.” Yoongi huffed out in annoyance at the dramatics the other man was playing at.

“So impatient.” Taehyung tutted, arrogant stare meeting everyone else’s before he finally opened his mouth and dropped the bombshell.

“Park Jimin.”

Said man stared open mouthed at the man in shock, unable to formulate a proper response over all the shouts of anger. Jimin threw his hands up in surrender and backed up until his calves hit the side of the couch. “What? No--I--it wasn’t me, I swear!”

“Yeah?” Taehyung stepped into his personal space and shoved his phone under his nose. “Then explain the evidence.”

“I--”

“You were the only one who wasn’t drugged that night.” The blond continued, bulldozing over Jimin’s high-pitched voice. “You were the only one sober who was present when the rest of us confided our private affairs. And--”

His finger jab into the smaller man’s chest. “You’re the only one who had something to gain from ratting us out.”

“Gain what, exactly?” Jin’s voice was steel, broad shoulders straightened with a quiet rage that honestly scared you.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Taehyung glanced at Jin from over his shoulder before digging his finger into Jimin’s chest harder. “He was offered a large sum of money to take us all down.”

“By who?” This time the question came from Namjoon, who’s expression was clouded over with a mix of betrayal and the want for retribution. He had the most to lose out of all of you from the leak afterall.

“That’s a good question.” The model rounded back on a wide-eyed Jimin. “Who indeed.”

“Look,” Jimin liked his lips anxiously under the weight of everyone’s simmering fury. “They offered, but I refused--”

“Who?” Jin stalked over to the petite man, the air around him dangerous.

“I-I don’t know.” Jimin stammered. “They were anonymous. But I swear I didn’t--”

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Jin fisted the front of his shirt and shook him hard. You could hear his teeth rattle from feet away. “You little fucking rat.

“I want you to listen, and listen very carefully.” The elder man’s voice was sharp, syllables carefully annunciated. And with a flex of the muscles in his bicep he threw Jimin from his grip so hard that the smaller man stumbled to the floor. “You have twenty-four hours to get the fuck out of my city before I do something that I’ll regret.”

From his place sprawled out on the floor, Jimin’s pleas to be heard went ignored.

“And if I ever catch wind of you stepping even a toe over the state line, it’s over for you.” Everyone in the room knew that Jin’s threat wasn’t to be taken lightly; he’d follow through on his word. “Now get the fuck out of my hotel and pray that I never see your face again.”

Jimin’s eyes quickly flitting back and forth between the seven of you as if trying to find someone to take up for him, to plead his case. And when his gaze met yours, you broke eye contact, choosing to stare at the rug under your feet instead. The feeling that churned your gut was heavy as your heart slowly hardened towards a man who you couldn’t even look at anymore. Who you were once able to call a best friend.

The heels of Jimin’s shoes scuffed the floor as he slowly stood, lips parting to give one final parting blow. “You really shouldn’t trust everything you hear.”

And then he was gone.

Betrayal tested bitter on your tongue.

                               Six Hours Later

The sound of the elevator door opening halted you in your tracks with one foot on the staircase leading up. Out from within the confines of the steel box stepped a familiar head of dark hair and your heart stopped in your chest before picking up speed.

“What are you doing here?” Your lips parted at the object held tight in one of his hands, the pop of color catching your eye. “And with those.”

“I--” Jungkook licked his lips and threaded his free hand through his locks. The nervous look on his face was something you hadn’t seen aimed at you before and it caused a feeling you didn’t want to acknowledge to well up in your chest.

He stepped further into your apartment, his all black outfit standing out against the bright interior. You hadn’t seen him since everyone left Jin’s earlier. He’d departed so fast that you hadn’t been able to apologize for the way Yoongi punched him. And now there he was, fidgeting in the middle of your foyer.

“I wanted to talk.” Jungkook’s voice caressed your ears.

“Okay.” You nodded slowly, stepping down from the stairs and gesturing to the sitting room across from you. He trailed behind as you entered and sat down on one of the couches. But instead of sitting somewhere else, he plopped down right next to you. The paper in his ringed hand crinkled around the two dozen roses it contained.

Jungkook hesitated for a moment before shyly extending the bouquet out for you to take. Your fingers brused against his as you slowly accepted them from his grasp. “I got these for you.”

You completely and utterly failed at hiding your smile and chose to bury your nose into the soft petals to distract yourself from the anxious way he played with his hands. Sweet, they smelled sweet. “What’s the occasion?”

Never had he ever done something like that before. Jungkook and romance wasn’t something that went together in your expierience. And there it was again, that feeling that you chose not to name.

“Y/N.”

The seriousness in his voice had your head jerking upwards. He was staring down, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers. “I think we should stop.”

Your stomach dropped to the floor and your mouth went numb around the response you forced yourself to give. “Stop?”

Jungkook’s gaze lifted to meet your blank stare and he nodded slowly. “Stop hooking up.”

You were thankful that he didn’t comment on how small your voice sounded. “Why?”

“Because,” his fingers grabbed at yours gently and you couldn’t help but drop your eyes to the way he intertwined them. “I don’t want to hook up with you anymore.”

His grip on you tightened when you tried to pull away, his other hand lifting your chin until you looked at him again. Jungkook’s lips were parted, two prominent front teeth displayed. “I want to date you.”

A pause.

A sharp intake of breath and the tightening of fingers. “I’m sorry, what?”

Now he definitely looked nervous. Jungkook’s words came out quickly, like he was afraid you’d stop him before he could get them all out. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Y/N. And I thought that maybe if you hooked up with me, you’d fall for me too. But I...I don’t want to lose you because I took too long.”

All you could do was stare open-mouthed and bug eyed. And the longer you took, the more Jungkook started to fidget. “Look, please just say something.”

“You’re an idiot.” He flinched at the deadpan tone in your voice. “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time.”

“Really?” Hope filled his voice and he leaned closer, both hands capturing yours. “Seriously?”

Giddy, you grinned so hard your cheeks hurt under the strain. “Yes, really.”

“Can I--can I kiss you?” With a shy nod, you let Jungkook’s hands come up to gently cradle your cheeks.

It was different, the way his mouth captured yours. Instead of the fierce desire he usually kissed you with, this time it was slow, gentle. And god his lips were soft and your heart rate skyrocketed at the love that showed through the way he pressed against you.

“Don’t make me kick your ass.”

The deep voice of your brother had you and Jungkook pushing away from each other like teenagers caught by their parents. And both of your necks snapped over to see Yoongi walking past the entryway to the sitting room. A teasing smirk was aimed your way as he continued on his path to the elevator.

“Mind your business!” Your shout was met with Yoongi’s high-pitched giggle.

                            Eighteen Hours Later

      Well, UpperEast Siders, did you enjoy the story? Because I sure did. Oh, and what’s this? Looks like not even a dark scandal can force Bangtan out of the light.

Laughter rang loud through the busy resturant and all eyes turned at the sound. But the seven of you paid no mind to the stares.

“A toast.” Jin stood in the middle of the half circle you all formed around the bar, a glass of bubbly champagne raised high. “To lifelong friendship.”

         Spotted: Manhattan’s King. But can he really be crowned royalty when his throne was built on the steps of family betrayal? I’d say just ask his brother, but, well, be careful or you might just disappear too.

“And,” Namjoon raised his own glass into the air, golden liquid catching the light. “To trust.”

          Oh, and what’s this? I wonder, how will our lovely God of Destruction talk his way out of jail time? Tell me, do they teach you how to get away with embezzlement in law school?

Hoseok’s dimples came out to play around his own bright smile. “Don’t forget loyalty.”

          It’s a surprise that Manhattan’s Sunshine is even able to stand underneath the weight of a dead body. And if the allegations are true? Well, stay away from drugs, kids.

“And love.” The addition came shyly from your lips as you gazed warmly up at the man to your side. Jungkook’s lips pressed fondly to your forehead.

            If anyone needs help passing their SAT’s, make sure to hit up our Golden Boy. Surely he’ll get you a passing grade if the price is high enough.

“To success.” Yoongi smiled and raised his glass in a salute, skin glowing.

            Can a Genius really be a genius if he has to buy his way to a degree? Someone’s money should have gone towards a tutor instead.

The sound of seven glasses clinking together overpowered the other voices in the room. “Here, here!”

             Everything appears to have gone back to normal ever since our resident Pretty Boy was outed as a little tattletale.

It was raining.

Water pelted the top of his umbrella, the soft plop-plop-plop blending into the noise of city life. People bustled around him, but he didn’t pay it any mind. No, instead his focus was rooted to one spot, one person who he could see through the glass windows of the resturant. One person who’s profile he would recognize anywhere.

He watched, silent, as the man threw his head back in laughter that ghosted his ears. And either he felt the stare burning into the side of his face, or he was expecting him to be there. Because with a turn of the neck, brown eyes met brown. And the tension was palpable on his tongue even through the walls that separated them.

             Out with the old and in with the new, that’s what I always say. Oh, and one last thing:

A haughty smirk turned up the corners of Taehyung’s lips and Jimin watched with narrowed eyes as the blond man raised his glass of champagne in a silent salute.

  You really shouldn’t trust everything you hear.

                                         xoxo,

                                    Gossip Girl

[agustdef]

Here & Now - Chapter 2

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Fluff; Chill romance

Word Count: 1,963

Warning: None.

Banner Marker: @dee-ehn​

A week of me constantly working felt like a month. I was physically and mentally drained, but I had to keep going. The light at the end of the tunnel was so close and I could just imagine the rest that I'd get as if it were happening.

"Kendall!"

The screaming of my name sent me jolting forward and out of the daydream, I'd slipped into. Blinking a few times I regained my bearings and stared at Marcus with wide eyes. He just frowned, his eyes holding what felt like disappointment.

"How much sleep did you get on the plane?'

"Three hours."

"And when you got home?"

"Three hours?"

He sighed and I guessed he wasn't appeased with my answers. "How much sleep did you get while in New York?"

For a moment I paused, thinking about it. After a few seconds too long he slapped the table, calling on my attention again.

"Actually, I slept every night for at least seven hours. The most consistent it's been for about a month. I'm just using too much of myself. Working my brain to meet all deadlines and also trying to get everything that I want to out of me. Too much creative output methinks."

Shrugging I grabbed the piece of Belgian waffle I'd been eating, dipped it into syrup and shoved it into my face.

Marcus released another sigh, his face softening. He was entering one of his big brother modes, I could feel it. I always did my best to not worry him that much, but sometimes it just couldn't be helped.

"You're taking a break from all work after this. You look dead most of the time, even with that sparkle of joy in your eyes. Plus your skin looks dull. Where is that radiant brown skin that you've honed with your sixty different skincare products."

A laugh escaped me and I almost choked on the waffle. He was a freaking dork.

"My skin looks just fine, thank you very much. Never come for it again. And I promise I will be taking a break. I'm going to be sleeping, eating and seeing several movies. Also catching up on music."

The last words had him narrowing his eyes and opening his mouth to say something.

"Not for inspo nor for work. I'm behind on some releases and need to catch up and expand my library. We both know that I'd be driven mad if I couldn't at the very least listen to music."

Marcus' lips pursed and then he nodded. He knew that I was right. I couldn't fully promise to control my impulse to get work of some kind done, but I would at the very least try for my sake, his and my literary agent, Ara.

"Okay. Even though I want to just ban you from work now we're having a brunch meeting for a reason." He paused and took a sip of his nasty earl grey tea.

Clearing his throat he turned his attention back to me. "You know the projects you have coming up, it's not a lot and you've worked with at least one person on all of them before. So obviously I'm not too worried about that. You have meetings with the producers for Halsey's album and then the ones for Bruno on Tuesday. Thankfully, they're hours apart so you have time to sprint to the other side of the city."

As he spoke I scrolled through my phone's planner, making sure that I had all those things noted somewhere. I'd have reminders, but I preferred to have it on me at all times. I'd end up cross-checking them with the things in my paper planner.

"Got it."

He nodded and scanned his own phone, then something in the air shifted. Marcus glanced up at me with this serious expression that had me prepared to shit myself.

"And then there's the meeting with Suga in a week."

His grave expression only lasted for a second and then he was smirking at me. Wiggling his eyebrows he did this weird dance that I never wanted to see again. I felt very embarrassed and also wanted to launch something at him because he was teasing me.

"Stop."

"Stop what? I'm just saying you have a meeting next week. A meeting with someone you fangirl over. Someone you've said some very interesting things about." He sounded so smug.

"And? I've fangirled about most of the people I've gotten to work with. Full on thirsted. Brendon Urie, Hayley Kiyoko, Tinashe, Halsey, Trey Songz, Rihanna. Hell, I'm in post-production with Hanbin. And everyone knows how deep that thirst ran." I rolled my eyes and sipped my iced green tea.

"True. But come on, we both know your composure can suck sometimes. Even you, woman with the resting bitch, sad and/or tired face slips up. And I'm more than sure that he will catch you slipping." He enunciated every word, growing more pleased with himself every second.

My cheeks were burning, from embarrassment and annoyance. I flipped him off and stared into his eyes. "Keep fucking with me and I will shave your head. All the hard work for those waves will go out the window."

And as usual, it shut him down. He knew I'd never go that far, but I was not above some form of retaliation that he wouldn't see coming. We'd known each other for well over six years, and even though we spent 2 years, not on speaking terms friendship wise his work as my agent kept him in the loop of my behavior.

Silence reigned as we finished off our food and waved down the waiter to order the burger we'd been eyeing. Once that was taken care of I felt this sort of shyness overtake me. It wasn't foreign, because I was naturally shy, but with a close friend, it felt misplaced.

Clearing my throat I felt my cheeks burning again. "So... um, any particular reason that they asked me? Like the email said that he wanted to work with me, but even then I have no clue why. I asked Hals and she denies having any part in it."

Marcus failed to keep the smirk from making its way back onto his face. He tried hard, the corners of his mouth quirking up and down. Eventually, he just gave up.

"Oh. Well, it's not like you're some unknown producer. You've made a name for yourself with how consistently good your work is. Plus people know that you dabble in a little of everything and are willing to experiment. Plus if you've forgotten you've done a fair amount of work in the world of k-pop. Stray Kids, Jackson Wang, Loco, Mamamoo. You just finished working with B.I., someone who is arguably one of the best producers and writers out there."

"But..."

Reaching across the table he used his hand to cover my mouth, "No buts. You've created a rep for being good at your job and great to work with, it's not surprising that he or anyone else might want to work with you. Stop it."

Swatting his hand away I glared at him, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

"Fine. What time is the meeting?" I asked.

Just before he could speak the massive burger was sat in front of us with a mountain of fries. My stomach felt tight after the waffles and bacon, but upon seeing the beauty made some room. I ordered ginger ale for burping purposes and then grabbed the knife, cutting the burger in half.

"It's going to be on Wednesday at two. You're free that whole day, including deadlines for Ara because those edits are obviously due tomorrow. So you can relax all day until that and perhaps prepare some stuff to show him to get the vibe he's going for."

I took a huge bite of the cheeseburger as I mulled over what he said. One thing dawned on me as I swallowed.

"What is this for exactly. You cut off all my access to the emails and I'd like not to be in the dark about it."

"Oh, he's releasing more Agust D music," he said nonchalantly.

My eyes widened and I felt like my eyes would roll out of their sockets because of it. I'd assumed it was a BTS thing or some other BigHit artists situation, not his solo stuff.

"I want to fire you so bad," I said once I regained my composure.

"Nah, you can't and you won't. You know I do my job too well and this is the only time I've withheld information for my own amusement."

"I hate you a little bit. Not gonna lie." I shoved several fries into my mouth and chomp as I glared at him.

Marcus just winked at me and continued stuff his face with food. No more talk of work happened, we just sat and eat our food occasionally making conversation of some random topic like the character I named after him and then murdered. It had been over a year since that book was written, but with the last of the edits being due his salt levels had risen again.

He ranted and raved about how rude it was, killing a dear friend. One would think I'd actually done the deed and somehow brought him back to life. I had to admit it was funny how riled he was about it though.

Right before he started listing the reasons why I should change the character name my phone vibrated on the table. An image of Hals flashed onto the screen and I thanked Zeus for the interruption.

Picking up the phone I wasn't given the chance to speak because she was whispering with someone in the background. When she stopped I interjected.

"Hello?"

"Ken! Hi, where are you?" She got right to the point.

"I'm out wrapping up a meeting with Marcus. Is there something you needed?" As I spoke to her Marcus waved down our waiter and requested the check.

"Yes, but depends on how you answer the next question. Which is are you busy for the rest of the day?"

She sounded too happy like she was up to something and I didn't like it one bit.

"Besides doing a read through no. Why?"

A laugh could be heard on the other end, which was very much so hers though she'd moved away. Another voice said something, but I couldn't quite make out what it was.

"I could hang up."

"Wait, no. I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out and work on some stuff. Nothing serious, just run a few things by you and we spend time together. You can even do your read through." She's pulled it together and sounded normal, but I was still suspect.

Glancing down at my watch I saw it was only almost one and I had all the time in the world to get shit down. That and I only had half the book left and that wouldn't take me much.

"Fine. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Good. You know how to get in. Love you. Bye."

She hung up quick, leaving me no chance to respond to her. Shrugging I pushed the phone into my pocket and looked up in time to see the waiter hand Marcus his receipt. When he got up so did I and we headed out of the restaurant.

"Need me to drop you off?" he asked.

"Nah. I can just Uber there, we're going different directions," I said.

The sun was so bright that my glasses weren't transitioning fast enough to save me and I couldn't really see him.

"Okay. Be safe." He reached over and ruffled my hair, sending the curls I'd worked hard to keep intact going everywhere.

Before I regained sight he was gone, knowing I'd hurt him. Rolling my eyes I ordered and uber and used the window the restaurant to reset my fro. By the time it was sitting how it once was the car pulled up and I eagerly fled to the safety of air conditioning.

It only took fifteen minutes to get to her place because for the first time ever traffic in LA was being kind to me. I hopped out of the car with a nod to the driver and made a beeline to her placed. Once there I knocked and was met with her smiling face. As usual her smile made me smile and she pulled me in for a tight hug.

"Thank you for coming."

"It's no problem, love."

She pulled away and let me in. I kicked off my shoes and was several steps in before I noticed the person standing across the living room. His back was to me and then he turned around, making my eyes widen a fraction before I got it together.

Halsey smiled and I could see the mischief in it. "I forgot to tell you I had a visitor. Kendall this is Yoongi, Yoongi this is Kendall. You'd be more familiar with the name Sailor V. You're working together soon, right?'

"Hi," I said still processing.

He also appeared surprised. "Hello."

[pcyheartgirlx]

In The Bleak Midwinter [CH18]

Genre ;; Angst/Smut/Fluff/Romance

Pairing ;; Chanyeol x Reader x Seokjin

Word Count ;; 8.9k

Summary ;; We’re all whores, we just sell different parts of ourselves.

You own a multi-billion dollar company, servicing the biggest names in kpop, in more ways than one. Under the name “Starlight Catering”, you, your best friends, Damon and Maya, and your hundreds of workers provide stress relief for idols.

You have partially retired, not because you didn’t want to, but because Chanyeol was your muse. He was all that you had time for and all you needed. Until Jin came along.

So what happens when you mix fire and ice?

You get smoke and all the lines are blurred.

A/N ;; EDIT! I’m sorry if you’re seeing this twice on your feed. There was something wrong with the last post so I had to repost this. but nothing has changed so no need to reread just relike or reblog<3 :) Welcome back babies! I hope you liked the last chapter cuz this one is going to be totally different! Haha. I feel like I have to let you guys know if a specific character isn’t going to be in the story to just know this is a Jin chapter mostly and Chanyeol is absent BUT he will be in the next one :DDD anyways, hope you like it  byeee *ksoo voice* also there's a warning of a scene that might be a little gross to some. I won't reveal it here obviously so you'll have to keep readingggg

[PLAYLIST] [BACKSTORY] [PROLOGUE] [CH1] [CH2] [CH3] [CH4] [CH5] [CH6] [CH7] [CH8] [CH9] [CH10] [CH11] [CH12] [CH13] [CH14] [CH15] [CH16] [CH17] [CH18]

“Bangtan Christmas?”

Namjoon shot you a look of confusion as you echoed his words.

“What? It’s cute. It’s like a little Christmas party we do every year before Christmas. We drink and we do secret santa,” Namjoon’s eyes started to twinkle as he described it to you. It was cute just as he said but only because you never envisioned BTS doing something this adorable so privately. They really are like brothers. You smirked and looked down at the fit of your new sweater. You didn’t understand why Jin got you such a huge size. Bringing your hands up to your face, you sighed at the sweater paws you now had. And the way it hung on your shoulders gave it a length that made it look like a dress. It was longer than the dress you were wearing you thought. Those broad shoulders of his. You smiled to yourself as you kept examining the sweater on you. Namjoon noticed and was about to say something before you two heard voices coming from outside of the front door.

“Will you two shut up already?” Yoongi barked as the men all walked in. A small pout followed his statement as the footsteps and sounds of chuckling started becoming closer.

“It’s not my fault your legs are shorter than mine,” Tae giggled. “Maybe next time you can keep up and win the race.”

“I can’t believe this is how you’re choosing who’s going to be in your video, hyung!” Jimin whined, causing a that cackle that could make anyone smile. That was definitely Hobi.

“Why? I think this is fair!”

“(Y/N)!” Jungkook cried out delightfully as they walked into the kitchen. You smiled at all of them as Jimin ran to you and took you in an embrace.

“I’m so happy you came! We’re going to have so much fun!” He gushed as he pulled away, Tae was trailing behind him and mirrored Jimin’s action.

“I hope you have a good tolerance for vodka because that’s what your lovely prince got for the both of you,” As Tae pulled away, you looked at him perplexed as you looked over the 5 men who had just walked in.

“Where is Jin, anyway?” you asked as Jungkook came over to the you 3, putting a small plastic bag on the table.

“You’ll hear him in a second,” Yoongi sniggered as he started taking his coat off.

“What did you guys do to him?” Namjoon threw his hands up and sighed. Hobi just clutched onto Yoongi’s arm, joining him as they sniggered away.

“3…” Jungkook started.

“2…” Hobi followed. Jimin pointed in the direction of the hall and that’s when you heard him.

“Yah! This is how you treat me?! Am I just a bag boy while you hoodlums run off? Your antics are getting on my last nerve! Having me walk all the way over here carrying all the bags! You know how many bottles of wine and vodka I just bought. And another thing! I know you all didn’t leave your wallets home accidentally! You’re all a bunch of little--(Y/N)!” You couldn’t help but snigger with the rest of the men, minus Namjoon who was shaking his head at Jin’s rant, clearly embarrassed for him.

“Hey tesoro,” you said slyly as you watched his redden face deepen to a crimson color.

“Jagi, you wouldn’t believe what these punks did to me!”

“I’m pretty sure she heard you,” Yoongi teased as he walked over and took the many bags from Jin’s hand.

“Well it’s about time someone helped me! Ungrateful shits you all are!” Jin continued, the vein in his neck throbbing as every syllable fell from his lips. Jungkook walked up to him and put an arm around him.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I know age it starting to get to you and your muscles and bones aren’t the same--”

“Woah! I’ll have you know--” Jin was cut off by Jimin coming up next to him, squeezing his arm lightly.

“Wow, Jungkook’s right, hyung. You’re feeling a little flabby over here.”

“FLABBY?!”

“Aw guys leave my prince alone. It’s not his fault. Age is something that we can’t just stop,” you said as you walked over to Jin, placing a hand on his cheek lightly and pinching it. The affection you gave him caused the other man to giggle and as much as you were trying to embarrass Jin a bit, he just took your hand and pulled you into him.

“I’m like wine! I just get better with age,” Jin retorted as he wrapped his arms around you. “Isn’t that right, jagi?”

“That’s right, tesoro.”

“You guys are incredibly corny,” Yoongi chuckled as he took the liquors out of the bag, placing the 2 bottles of vodka and 4 bottles of wine on the table. Your eyes widened as Tae pulled Soju out of the bag Jungkook had placed on the table. These boys know how to drink.

“I think it’s cute!” Tae whined stomping his foot lightly at Yoongi. Jungkook came up behind Tae and put his hand on his back.

“He just doesn’t know the first thing about romance, huh?” Jungkook added silently and you were almost sure you were the only one that caught the off sided glance that Tae shot Jungkook as he touched him, almost shuddering but keeping his composure. They’re so incredibly cute I can’t deal with it.

“Let’s show (Y/N) the Big room!” Jimin chimed as he took a glass of Soju in his hand. You looked up at Jin whose face was softening every second you spent in his arm.

“Didn’t I see the Big room already?” you asked him innocently.

“Yes but you haven’t seen it decorated.”

“Decorated?”

“Aw I just noticed you’re wearing the sweater Jin got!” Hobi said as he peeled off his jacket, revealing his own twist on an ugly Christmas sweater that included Mang.

“That’s why we took so long,” Yoongi grumbled as he adjusted his Shooky Christmas sweater.

“We had to get hyung a new sweater since he wanted to see...how did he put it?” Jungkook mused as he pulled on the hem of his Kooky sweater.

“You’ll keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” Jin threatened as he held you closer.

“He wanted to see his beautiful sugar plum princess wearing the cutest sweater on earth,” Jimin teased, bringing his voice an octave higher as he pretended to cutely mimic Jin. While the 6 men laugh, you looked back up at Jin, squeezing him tightly as you kissed his jaw.

“Did you really say that?” you tried holding a small giggle back because the way his lip pursed, you could tell he was feeling slightly shy. But when he saw how your eyes twinkled in curiosity, his face softened.

“I said...something like that, yes.” You rested your head against his chest, not paying attention to the other men who were talking among themselves at this point.

“You’re the cutest, you know that Jin?” You felt him brush his lips against your forehead, causing you to fall deeper into his arms.

“I-I try.”

“Come, (Y/N)!” Hobi beamed as they all started making their way to the back of the dorm with a drink and bottle in hand. You pulled away from Jin but you felt his hands cup yours and slightly pull you toward the the door.

When you all made your way into the Big room, your jaw dropped at the scene in front of you. There was a massive tree where the floor dipped by the sectional and it was littered with BT21 decorations. There were Christmas lights strung all over the room. Everything either had a Christmas hat or tinsel hanging from it. It was a legitimate Bangtan Christmas. You smiled as you watched them all flock toward the sectionals with their drinks in their hands placing the bottles on a familiar table. You bit your lip and smiled a bit, thinking about the day Jin had you sprawled on that table. Jin stood by you, and you felt his eyes examining you, admiring the look of amazement that was plastered on your face.

“I wanted to do something for you for Christmas since I’m not going to be around. I know it’s not Christmas in New York, jagi but--”

“No you’re right,” you said as you turned to him. Jin was taken aback by your response, almost as if he was upset at your reaction. But it didn’t last long as you ran your thumb along the back of his hand. “It’s better. Because I get to be with this family. Because I get to be with you.”

His cheeks puffed out slightly as he grinned at you. All you wanted to do was just pinch those cheeks of his and kiss him everywhere. But you settled for a kiss on one of those cheeks before getting lost in those dark eyes.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

You didn’t care anymore. Those words were about to slip from your tongue and fall out of your lips with no regrets. Jin needed to hear it. He needed to hear it because if he could pick up the sincerity behind it and how much you meant it with everything in your body, he’d believe it before you let him go.

Before you let him go…

“Come on guys! We’re about to play a game!” Namjoon called to the both of you. Jin nodded and then looked at you.

“Let’s have some fun, jagi.” You smiled and nodded as he guided you toward the sectional were the other members sat.

The night went on with lots of laughter and yelling echoing through the room. You all played a drinking game, bringing you all to an extremely nice state of intoxication. Then the secret Santa exchanging of presents. You loved watching them joke about how mediocre the present was but then showering their secret Santa with words of gratitude. It wasn’t long before they got drunker as you sat there babysitting your 3rd glass of vodka in which Jin occasionally took a swig of. It surprised you how well Jin held his liquor. You expected much from Yoongi, who laughed at a very drunk Jimin who was demonstrating his splits. Another fit of laughter overtook you as Namjoon tried to imitate Jimin’s talent.

“My balls! My balls!” Namjoon cried as he fell back, cupping his crotch as he rolled over on the floor. Jimin roared in laughter, falling on top of Hobi who was cackling just as loudly as ever.

“Hyung! Why even try?” Jungkook said breathlessly in between bouts of laughter.

“Have you even ever done a split before?” Tae teased as Namjoon continued to roll around on the floor in exaggerated agony. Tears started to roll down your face and your stomach strained, trying as hard as you could to stop yourself from laughing anymore.

“Hey,” you felt a whisper in your ear. You turned to source next to you only to reveal Jin narrowing his gaze seductively at you. “What do I have to do to get a moment alone with you, sweetheart?” A playful smile danced across your face, your cheeks still burning from keeping that previous wide smile displayed for so long. You placed your hand on his knee and squeezed it lightly, never breaking eye contact.

“All you have to do is ask.” With that, Jin placed his hand over the hand that you rested against his knee, motioning for you to get up. You happily obliged by springing up from your seat, causing the other 6 men to look at the two of you.

“Oooh, I know what you two are about to do,” Jimin slurred as he squirmed cutely in Hobi’s lap.

“We’re just going to go talk,” you said innocently, receiving a doubtful look from Jin. Tae just laughed heartily as he linked arms with Jungkook, leaning his head against his shoulder.

“Give it 5 minutes and we’ll hear it guys!” Jungkook commented, causing the other men to cackle excluding Seokjin and yourself.

“Hear what?!” Jin barked, letting a small chuckle escape his lips although his tone was stern.

“Oh jagi! Ahhh you’re so good at that. Oh, just like that, jagi!” Namjoon moaned on the floor still as he thrust his hips in the air. Yoongi smacked him playfully as he started laughing even harder, causing the other men to roar in unison afterwards. You tried to hide your own laughter but Jin was a gentleman. Even though you could tell he wanted to laugh with him to hide his embarrasment, he put up a little front for you. Squeezing your hand lightly, he dragged you away from them and started for the door.

“You’re all are shameful! Disgraceful!” Jin cried as the two of you started to walk out. Instead of receiving another response from either one of the men that teased you, all 6 of them whistled and hollered as you two disappeared behind the door.

“I’m so sorry about them, (Y/N). They especially don’t know how to act when they’re drunk,” Jin said apologetically as he walked in front of you. You shook your head reassuringly as you walked a familiar path to his room.

“It’s fine, honey. Really. I find it quite amusing,” you pointed out cheerfully. As the two of you made it to his bedroom door, he stopped and looked at you  with embarrassment glinting in his pupils. You wanted to pout and kiss him everywhere just as you did that morning at the cabin, brushing your lips on every territory of his ethereal face. But instead you ran the back of your hand down his cheek as he spoke.

“More like humiliating. I get so embarrassed and shy,” he admitted to you, causing you to grin even more.

“I know that’s why I find it amusing.”

“Well I’m glad my humiliation is entertainment for you,” Jin sneered jokingly as you smacked his arm with minimal force.

“Oh stop baby. Come, lets get inside.”

“Wait a second,” he cried as you placed your hand on his doorknob. You snapped your neck toward him and gave him an eager look. Jin just placed his hands on your shoulders, positioning you so you were facing him. “Look up.” And when you did, there it was. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up to your mouth as this took you by shock.

“A mistletoe!”

“You know what happens under mistletoes, don’t you jagiya?”

You licked your lips as you stared at his, admiring the sumptuous pink skin that glistened in the dim light. Even though you had kissed them often, you always wanted to know what Jin tastes like. And as his lips brushed against yours in that minute, you let the taste of peppermint and vodka pour into you, onto your taste buds as his tongue brushed up against yours. His hands rested at your waist, even when he pulled away from the kiss.

“I have a few presents for you,” he breathed, not allowing you to gather yourself even after that kiss. You looked him confused and he just laughed as his hand went for the doorknob. What you saw in his room almost brought you to tears. You wanted to fall to the floor and beg him to take it all down and that you just plain didn’t deserve it. Because you didn’t.

You didn’t deserve the trail of rose petals that started at your feet and ended at the bed. You didn’t deserve all the hard work he had put in to lighting and positioning all the candles that flickered softly his room. You didn’t deserve the plate of chocolate covered strawberries and the two glasses of champagne that rested on his bed, with red and pink rose petals that surrounded the silver platter it was placed on. You didn’t deserve the bags of gifts that rested on the foot of his bed with tags that clearly had your name on it. And as you turned to look at him, studying to look of anticipation and hopefulness that was plastered on his face, you realized you didn’t deserve him.

“Jin...I--”

“Please tell me you love it!” He begged as he wrapped his arms around your from behind. You felt his lips kiss at your neck gingerly. “I know you love strawberries and so do I. I was really nervous about this so I tried and prepared really well, jagi. Even Jungkook helped me set this up. But you’re quiet. You hate it. Baby--”

“Jin!” you spun around, cutting off his nervous rambling as his arms never left your waist. “I love it,” you gushed, hoping the worry and anticipation would cease and they did.

“You do? It’s not too...cheesy?”

“No, tesoro. It’s...it’s beautiful,” you choked back a sob and for the first time, it wasn’t a sob derived from sadness. You were so happy in this moment, so content and touched. When Jin took your hand in his and guided you to his bed, your heart started to pound loudly in your ears and it was almost impossible to keep you from smiling. He patted a spot on the bed and you sat while he went to other side and sat next to you. Jin picked up a strawberry and brought it to your lips, watching lovingly as you took a small bite.

“These are so good!” you gushed immediately, tasting the richest chocolate and the freshest strawberry you had ever tasted before. Jin’s face lit up as you grabbed one from the tray. “Here tesoro, try it.” Unlike you, Jin took the whole thing in his mouth causing his cheeks to puff out like a chipmunk. You giggled as you watched his eyes widened just as yours did.

“Nyam! These are so fresh! You know these are from Goyangi, right? I decided to try them out after I saw all the delicious food they made at your party,” He said excitedly as he brought another strawberry to your lips. When you took it in your mouth, you felt his knuckles brush up against your chin lightly. He exhaled suddenly as if his touch shocked him but his face stated warm and gentle. As you chewed, you blinked at him multiple times realizing that the sudden change in his breath and the expression of nervousness on his face was him falling deeper in love with you. Knowing that, you couldn’t help but take his hand in yours while you fell deeper with him.

“You didn’t have to do all of this, Jin,” you said reassuringly as your gripped his hand a little bit more tightly. He just looked down at your two hands, running his thumb over yours.

“I did though. The way I acted before was...it was terrible. I’m not usually like that. Jealous and impulsive. I know that’s how Chanyeol acts. But that’s not how I want to act,” he confessed to you as he brought a free hand to your lips, wiping away some strawberry juice that was dripping down the corner of your mouth. You understood why he exhaled suddenly before. You weren’t sure if it was the romantic setting or the vodka and champagne you started to take a sip of but something about him tonight was voltaic, charging every atom in your body and creating a jolt that streamed directly to your chest, hitting your heart dead on.

“You know I’m not angry with you about that, right? I mean, I was in the moment because I lost control of everything but...I don’t blame you for being as angry as you were. Granted, picking up Chanyeol’s phone call was a little much but considering the situation I had us wind up in…”

“Stop right there, (Y/N),” you looked at him puzzled as he brought a finger to your lips in attempt to hush you before he started to speak. “Don’t ever feel for a second that any of this is your fault. Believe it or not, there’s no one at fault.” Now he was talking crazy. When he removed his finger from your lips, he picked up the tray in between you, carefully placing it on his desk. You watched him intently as he got up, praying he didn’t drop the glasses of champagne or the remaining strawberries.

“That can’t be true, Jin I’m sorry. I’m a whor--I mean...It’s clear that I’m the one factor in this whole equation that is complicating both you and Chanyeol’s life,” As much as it hurt you to admit this, it was true. You put a hand on your chest, trying to contain the electric current that caused your heart to race. The way Jin tended to you was starting to become too much for you, but you didn’t hate it.

“That’s where you are wrong, sweetheart,” Jin walked to the foot of the bed, getting on his knees on the mattress as he made his way to you. A small squeak escaped your lips as you felt him grab your legs and pull you underneath him. Jin placed his hands on your hips to push you lower between his legs so that when he leaned foward, you were lying on your back and your faces were leveled.

“Yes, you are a whore,” he stated simply, raising your eyebrows at how he just outright said it. “But no one can ever help who they fall in love with. It’s just...destined. I was destined to love you,” he said as he lowered his face into your neck, planting soft kisses on your skin. “Chanyeol was destined to love you. And we were destined to love you at the same time. I told you...everything has meaning. It happens for a reason.”

“But Jin,” you moaned as his lips brushed against your jaw. His hands made their way under your sweater but over your dress underneath, running his hands along your chest.

“Shhh,” he whispered into your ear. “Don’t fight it, (Y/N). How many times are you going to make me beg you to let me adore you?” As his breath tickled your ear, you felt him push the sweater over you, stripping you free of the RJ designed knit. You worked at his pace, helping him push his sweater up as well but instead, he took initiative and looped his fingers under his shirt as well so when he stripped, he was completely shirtless. You bit your lip as you examined his torso, running your hands up the slightly defined muscle on his abdomen. Jin let out a breathy laugh as his arms came down, toying with the hem of your dress. You raised your hips so he could succeed in lifting your dress over you body, only to reveal that you weren’t wearing a bra...or panties.

“I figured I’d make it easy for you to access your favorite parts of me,” you purred as he looked you up and down, his eyes telling a story on how he was going to devour you whole. His hand started at your neck, slowly traveling to your breast. He took one in his hand as he started to speak.

“My favorite parts of you aren’t these parts, jagi,” he said with disappointment as he took your other breast in the same hand. Then his fingers trailed down your stomach, turning slightly as the reached your pelvis. “But I’ll tell you what my real favorite parts of you are.” He hummed as he cupped your heat in his hand, pushing his fingers against your clit. You whined silently when he moved his hand away only to regain excitement as you watched him undo his pants.

“Is it my excellent breakfast making skills?” you teased as you helped him push his pants and boxer briefs off.

“One of them but not my only favorite thing,” he grunted as threw the last piece of his clothes on the other side of the bed. You were expecting to feel his lips roaming your breast because of the way he licked his lips as he stared at them. But instead, he positioned himself in between your legs. Surprised at the fact that his cock was rock hard just by touching you, you sank lower into his body, giving him more leverage. But this went unnoticed because Jin hooked his arm behind your knees and aligned himself with your entrance.

“My favorite things about you are this face you’re about to make. I know I tell you almost everytime but I love this face,” Jin grunted as he entered his length inside you. A soft moan fell from your lips as you felt his pelvis collide with yours. And you inhaled deeply at the way he fit inside you, stretching your walls out slightly as your muscles pulse against him. He pumped once into you, watching the way your breasts bounced as he crashed into you.

“Jin…”

“Your laugh, your smile, the way you cover your mouth when you’re speechless,” as he spoke, he started to roll into you with rhythm. He played into you like a ballad, slow with every thrust and melodic with the words he spoke. “The way you think about everyone else before yourself, the kindness you show to every living creature, the bite you give me when I bark, I like them feisty too, jagi.” You giggled a bit at that last one, there was a moan laced in that giggle though because he was close to your spot and he knew it. He let your legs drop next to him as he unhooked them from his arms. Jin started leaning in, letting his elbows rest next to either sides of your head as his pace picked up.

“You have a lot of favorite things about me,” you panted before you felt the collision your body was craving. You felt the tip of his head strike your spot with vehemence causing your head to roll back into the mattress as he pounded into you. He used that as an opening as he dove in and started to bite and suck on your neck. Jin nibbled on your earlobe lightly and you felt his breath rush into you when he whispered.

“You should know everything about you is my favorite thing.”

Your heart melted instantly and so did your womanhood. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his thrusts became swifter with consistency. Before you knew it, euphoria was traveling through your whole body and your climax caused you to squirt all over him. You whimpered into the side of his face as you finished but he kept thrusting.

“I love when you squirt all over me like that, (Y/N).”

“Jin…” this was it. It was coming up your throat like one of the sobs you always seemed to bite back. But this was worse. This was something you kept not only lodged in the back of your throat but in the back of your mind as well. You knew damn well he didn’t want to hear it but how long could you deny these feelings to his face? This was it, for sure.

“Jin...I love you.”

You expected him to stop and look at you, eyebrows furrowed and ready to scold you. You expected him to pull himself off you and walk away. He had made it very clear that those words were to be saved for a special day. The day you were going to pick him. But that day was never going to come and you knew it. Today was the most romantic day you had with Jin and looking back at the time you spent with him, he had a good track record for romance. So you had to tell him, before this day...this holiday season ended.

But Jin didn’t stop. Instead you heard him inhale and his breathing stopped while he pumped into you. His thrusts started to become messy and his body was trembling.

“Ahhh...why did you say that, jagi? Fuck why did you say that?” He grunted as his forehead touched yours, moving against you in sync with the way he crashed into you. You felt the fire in your heat rise and your second climax was approaching. You tighten your embrace around his shoulders, clinging onto him for a second time and left a lingering kiss on his lips.

“I love you, Jin.”

“Stop, jagi…” his voice quaked just as his body did and his cock started to throb inside you violently.

“I love you so much, Jin.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I love you…” was all you were able to utter as you felt your walls suction around him, causing your whole body to tense.

“I love you more, (Y/N). I love you so much more,” he whimpered before you felt his last thrust inside you, sending your senses ablaze as you came all over him again. The feeling of your juices flowing out of you caused Jin to bury his face in your neck, groaning loudly as his cum shot into you.

The two of your stayed that way for a while, panting heavily in this embrace. At first, you thought you were the one making his bed shake, not realizing how bad you were shaking. But as Jin collapsed next to you and interlaced his fingers with yours, you realized it was him that was shaking violently and it confused you. You and Jin had crazier sex than this, why was he shaking so badly?

“Tesoro, are you okay?”

“I love you,” was all he said as he turned his head to you. You were almost scared to say it back, instead you looked into his eyes and shifted your body on to your side.

“I...I love you too,” you managed to whisper, looking away from him for a second.

“Hey, look at me,” and you did, examining his face to determine what could possibly be on his mind. Jin didn’t look as angry as you thought he would, but he didn’t look happy either. There was a little disappointment reflecting of the radiant glow he always had. Jin turned to his side too, so that he was facing you. With your fingers still intertwined with each other, brought them up to his lips and kissed each finger tenderly.

“You said it...when I asked you not to,” he said in between kisses.

“I know, Jin. I’m so sorry--”

“You know what this means don’t you?” you stared at him blankly. Truly you didn’t have a clue in the world, so you shrugged shyly at him. “It means I’m never going to get over you. Because I knew once I heard you say that, there’s no way I would be able to let you go.”

What did you do?!...You selfish bitch.

But you said it already. And there was no taking it back. Suddenly, the scene played in your head. You telling Jin you couldn’t be with him and the damage you were going to do to him. The pang in your core was almost enough to double you over but you remained still and your body tensed, running your hand along his jawline.

“Are you sure about that?” you asked hesitantly, watching him as he brought his lips down to your wrist. God, you loved when he did that.

“You never opened your gifts, jagi.” He didn’t even want to acknowledge your question. Instead, Jin pushed himself up, untangling his fingers from yours which almost caused you to whine. You watched him hook the bags into his hand walking back over to you to place the bags on the bed. He picked up your sweater and his, handing the RJ knit to you. “Put it on before you open them. It looks so much better on you than me, babe.” You beamed at his words which caused him to smile widely.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

He was right. What were you waiting for? You quickly pulled the sweater over your head and dove into the many bags of gifts that he placed in front of you. Jin sat on his computer chair not too far away as he watched you rip away all the tissue paper in the bags. In the end, you couldn’t believe all the things he had bought you. The gifts included, Balenciaga boots, Chanel perfumes, a variety of Tory Burch and Michael Koors bags, dozens of Loubiton red bottoms and a brand new iPhone. You noticed that this one had no tag and you looked up at him slyly.

“I might have bought that one after I left your apartment,” Jin scratched the back of his head as he admitted this to shyly. You just giggled and ran over to him, sitting on his lap and kissing him ferociously. “Ah...okay...jagi...ahehehehe...I’m guessing...ahhh...I’m guessing you liked the presents,” he managed to say as you assaulted him with your affection. You felt him jerk underneath you as he laughed.

“Yes, tesoro. I loved it. I loved it all and I love you,” you said it again. Fuck, (Y/N). Stop saying it. But you couldn’t help and the look of pure sentiment he gave you after you said it made you want to say it again. Over and over again.

“I love you too, jagiya...remember when I told you earlier that I had one more favorite face?” You looked at him curiously and nodded. “Well, the face you made when I saw you opening the presents. The happiness and joy that I was able to give you. That’s my favorite face.”

The two of you stayed in that position for a while. You caressed the back of his neck, occasionally twirling with his hair every so often. Jin drew circles on your thigh as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I wish you could stay,” he sighed, you just kissed the top of his head.

“Me too, baby. But it’s getting late and I have to bring Damon’s car back,” Suddenly, Jin snapped his head away from your grasp and looked up at you, his mouth hung slightly and his brows raised in a gloomy shock.

“You mean I can’t drive you home?” Taking Damon’s car was now a decision you began to regret.

“Baby boy, I’m so sorry. He offered and I…” your voice trailed off as he brought his lips to your cheek and nuzzled you after he kissed you.

“Ah it’s fine, jagi. Why don’t you get dressed while I put all your presents back in their bags?” Jin whispered sweetly into you ear. You nodded as you jumped off his lap, grabbing your clothes while you admired him out of the corner of your eye.

X-x-x

“Please call me when you get home,” Jin pleaded as he handed you the bags.

“I will, honey.”

“And drive safely. I know you had a little to drink so maybe you should eat some bread or stay a little while longer or--”

“Jin!” you giggled as you picked the bags up and kissed his nose. “I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve left your house by myself.”

“I know but still,” he huffed as he rubbed his arm. “I love you.”

“I love you too, tesoro.” He opened the door for you and placed a hand on the small of your back as you started to walk out.

“Don’t forget to call me,” he said as he placed a peck on your lips.

“I won’t baby. I promise.”

And you didn’t. The minute you pulled into your garage, you called him. Relief washed over his voice and you told him you made it safely. The two of you talked for a bit but when you noticed that he was yawning after every sentence, you giggled and instructed him that he should probably go to bed.

“Just a little while longer. Your voice is so beautiful.”

“Jin, please get some rest,” you begged cutely, tracing random figures into the steering wheel.

“Only because you asked like that,” he gushed.

“Goodnight, my prince. Sleep well. I love you.”

“Goodnight, princess. I love you too.”

As he hung up, you couldn’t help but feel the gnawing guilt eat away at you.

Princess.

Chanyeol was the only one that called you that. You sat there with your new phone in hand, glancing at the cuts on your fingers as you thought about him. Maybe he wasn’t as angry anymore and the two of you could talk a little bit more civilly. Even though Jin gave you a magical early Christmas you were never going to forget, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight unless you knew Chanyeol wasn’t angry with you. But when you dialed his number, it rang twice and went to voicemail. He...he rejected my call? To prove your theory, you called him again. Only hearing the phone ring once and then back to voicemail. Please pick up, you thought as you dialed his number a third time, only to hear it not ring at all. It went directly to voicemail.

Maybe if I give him a day...he’ll come around.

But he didn’t. The days passed and you never heard a word from Chanyeol. Jin on the other hand, called you every day at least twice. Once in the morning, to greet you before he started his busy day and then again at night before he went to sleep. He always told you he wanted to hear your voice before he went to sleep. And you were happy to hear his every night. Jin was helping you take the pressure off not hearing from Chanyeol for so long. But still, it didn’t settle well in your stomach. It got worse the day he was scheduled to come back. You even memorized the time he was supposed to land. That morning was terrible. Even Jin heard it in your voice as you served Damon breakfast.

“Jagi, are you sure everything is okay?”

“Yes, tesoro. I promise everything is okay.” Damon rolled his eyes as you spoke to Jin through the headphone. He knew you weren’t fine. But what were you supposed to tell him?

“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart. You know I don’t like that.”

“Well, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is it me?” Jin asked frantically. You poured pancake mix onto the pan before answering him.

“No, baby. It’s not you.”

“Is it Maya? Have you called her yet?”

“No. I haven’t heard from her either.”

“You should probably talk to her, though. You guys are friends! It’s time to get over this silly fight. And your pride…”

“I tried, Jin. The ball is literally in her court and she’s still mad at me..”

“Right right. Well if it’s not Maya and it’s not me then wha-...oh.” His voice twinged with disappointment as he came to the realization. You stood there frozen as you watched your pancake cook.

“Oh what?”

“Nothing just...I want you to be happy. That’s all.”

“I am happy. I don’t know why you think I’m not.”

“Because I know you jagi,” he said seriously before he sighed. “I just don’t want anyone hurting you.”

“Tesoro, no one is hurting me. I just woke up in a funk. It’s--”

“Hold on, babe.” While he had you on hold you looked over at Damon, who was stuffing his face and chewing loudly at his food. You gave him a look of disgust noting to yourself no matter how many years passed, you hated the way he ate. How does Sehun deal with it--

“(Y/N). I have to go. I’ll call you later tonight.”

“Okay! Have a good day and don’t overwork youself.”

“I love you, jagi.” You heard him smiling into the phone, causing a smile of your own to stretch across your face.

“I love you too, Seokjinnie.”

“Y'all make me sick,” Damon commented as you hung up. You just rolled your eyes and pointed at him.

“They way you eat makes me sick.” He scoffed at you as he pushed his empty plate away from him.

“The fuck got your thong in a knot? Chanyeol still hasn’t hit you up?” You picked up his plate and started serving yourself on his dirty plate. “Ew that’s gross!” Damon shuddered as he watched you.

“No he hasn’t and I don’t wanna leave a mountain of dishes for the maids later. That’s mad rude.”

“Oh but bitch, when it was me doing the dishes!--anyway, it’s not important.  You know he comes back today,” Damon said matter of factly as he watched you load your plate.

“Yes, I know this.”

“So what are you going to do? I know you got something up your sleeve.”

He wasn’t lying. You did have something planned. But it was risky, crazy and you were almost positive it wasn’t going to work. Still, you sighed as you turned around and put your plate on the island, plopping yourself on a stool opposite side of Damon.

“It’s kind of out there, Damon,” you admit while you picked your fork up. “But I was thinking about asking Sooman to let me pick them up at the airport.”

“Bitch,” Damon laughed as you took a piece of pancake in your mouth. “You right. That’s fucking insane. Not impossible. But insane.”

“I know like, what if Chanyeol gets mad that I showed up? Isn’t that a little psychotic?” Damon looked at you with confusion as you said this.

“You think that’s the insane part?” he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “First of all, Chanyeol has done enough crazy shit like showing up here at ungodly hours unannounced and blowing up your phone 197 times.”

“It was 97!” you snapped defensively.

“And that makes it any better?” You looked down and shrugged.

“I suppose you’re right…”

“What’s insane is you having the balls to ask Sooman. Why don’t you ask Yongmin?”

“I tried but he’s in Japan with them obviously. To be honest, I’m not worried about it because I’m not scared of that old shithead,” you said confidently, popping another piece of pancake in your mouth.

“Or…” Damon started. “You could just let this go. You’re going to stop talking to him after the holidays anyway so...I mean this saves you a lot of trouble.” Maybe he was right. But is this how you really wanted to end things with Chanyeol?

“No...Chanyeol deserves better than that.” Damon shook his head and grinned at you softly.

“You really love that boy,” He sighed. You shot him a half smile, looking down as you toyed with the food on your plate.

“I love them both…”

Knowing you were nervous, Damon turned the rest of your conversation unrelated to what you were preparing to do. You were dressed and ready to run out of the house. When you were about to leave, you looked down at yourself and started thinking of the possibility that you might not have enough time to change. You were hoping that wearing this dress wouldn’t give Chanyeol the wrong idea that you had gone to see Jin before. He noticed last time. But you needed to look at killer as possible. Knowing how Sooman is and was when he was your client, you knew he was a sucker for a killer body. You put your coat on, said your goodbye to Damon and walked out of the house.

When you finally stepped out of the cab and walked toward the SM building, your hands started to sweat. See, part of the plan was not taking no for an answer. Not from the security, not from the secretary and especially not from Sooman. Luckily, the security guards in the front were too enthralled by your figure to stop you from going passed them and you felt their eyes on your ass as you swayed your way to the elevator.

Barging into Sooman’s office was a huge gamble with not only your career but your relationship with SM. Granted, you knew that Starlight had him by the balls. Idols performed better when they were able to relieve their sexual tension. He knew that better than anyone. But he could still hit you where it hurt and start composing his own contracts with you. His own prices. Imagining this, you shook it off. Part of you wanted to just close the elevator door as it opened in front of you, just turn back and take Damon’s advice but when you took that first step into lobby of his office, it was too late.

“Hello, is Mr. Sooman in right now?” You said pleasantly to his secretary. She returned your smile with one of her own as she peeled her eyes away from the computer screen in front of her.

“Yes he is! Do you have an appointme-”

“Thank you, I’ll just see myself in then.”

This was ballsy. The adrenaline levels started to rise as you walked past her desk and into the small hallway behind her.

“You can’t go in there! Miss! MISS!” She cried out after you and you heard her start to scurry behind you. When you felt her hand tug at your wrist, you turned your head to her.

“Get the fuck off me,” you snarled to her in English. Her eyes widened as if she was hit was a sudden realization. She froze in place as she watched you open the door to his office.

“Ms. (Y/N) is here to see you!” She called out behind you as you walked in. Lee Sooman was sitting in his desk, looking over some papers before he shot up from his seat and threw his pen on the papers scattered in front of him, scrunching up his face in anger.

“What’s the meaning of this?! Sophia?!” he bellowed at you as you crossed your arms in front him. She ran up behind you and bowed at him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sooman! She just barged in and…”

“And you didn’t stop her?!” his voice became louder and you just smirked, walking closer to the other side of his desk.

“Oh please, like there’s any stopping me. We need to talk,” you turned to his secretary. “Sophia, you can leave us now.” Almost shocked at how you took charge, she looked over at Sooman who was fuming at this point. Nodding at her slightly, she finally left the office, clicking the door shut silently as you heard her heels click down the hall.

“How dare you?!” He snarled, balling his hands in a fist at you. You scoffed and leaned against his desk.

“Come on, Lee. Considering our history, you don’t have time for one of your favorite girls,” you cooed, sitting on the edge of his desk letting your dress hike up a little revealing more of your thigh than was visible before. Sooman looked at your body but the anger never trailed off. When he started to walk toward you, you thought, this can’t be that easy. Until his hands wrapped around your throat and his arm snaked around your waist.

“You’re a whore,” he growled, grabbing at your neck firmly enough where you couldn’t move but still had access to a generous amount of air. You felt his arm press you up against him and his face inched closer to yours. “The only time nightwalkers show their faces to you during the day is if they want something...so what is it?” Ah, so that’s how he wants to play it. Knowing the role you had to take on, you softened your face and started exuding helplessness.

“Please...let me go,” you begged breathlessly even though you had more than enough energy to say it normally. Still, his grip around your neck and waist loosened but his arms shot up to your biceps as he pushed you away from him. Taking initiative, you let yourself fall on the floor convincingly.

“Speak,” he husked as he stood over you. Sooman loved being in a position where he thought he had control. See, you knew men like him. Power hunger driving their souls into coldness. He saw nothing in you. You were just a whore to him. But what he didn’t know, is that every move you made was to combat his. Granted you were winging it, but that’s what you were the best at.

“I…I need you to let me pick EXO up from the airport. I need to see Chanyeol. It’s important and...he’s terribly mad at me. I need to fix it,” you stuttered in between begs. Sooman smirked at you as you looked up at him.

“Why on Earth should I let you do that? After that mess I had to clean up on Dispatch? You’re out of your mind,” he said in disgust. All you wanted to do was get up and show him that you were not a bitch to fuck with. But he was thriving off your damsel in distress act. This might work.

“Please, Mr. Sooman. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. I need this so badly. I beg you,” He examined you for a bit, the look of repulsion was being masked by one of deviance. He put his hands at his belt and smirked.

“If you want it that bad,” you saw him grab at his belt buckle and your stomach dropped. “Get on your knees.”

I mean, did you really think you could pull it off without it coming down to this? Yes, you did actually. You had so much confidence walking in that when things started to turn into this direction, you froze. Your body was tensing up. It wasn’t because you couldn’t do it or because you were shy to, no that wasn’t even a thought that crossed your mind. It was just...were you willing to do this for Chanyeol? To get a chance to fix things and enjoy these next few days with him before you had to cut off all ties with him.

If this was the only way to be able to be in his arms one last time, it was going to have to do. It was fucking appalling and happened in a blur. You almost don’t remember how he got into your mouth, and your mind became hazier and hazier every time he moaned. The sounds of your own slurping mixed with his groans filled the room and it made you sick. You wanted to pop him out of your mouth and give him a good jab where your mouth had been. But instead, you worked up and down him for what seemed like ages.

“I’m surprised sir,” you said playing into his deepest kinks. “You’re lasting so long for me.” Even though you said this with the utmost confidence, you were borderline physically ill.

“Stop,” he grunted and so you did. Wow, I’m off the hook. Now I can get the keys to the damn van. Hopefully there’s enough ti-- “That was for barging into my office.” You felt his arms at your shoulders, bring you up with force. He used that same force to turn you around and throw you onto his desk. You yelped as your front came crashing down onto the papers that were sprawled beneath you. “This…” he husked as you felt him align himself with your entrance. “The way that pussy feels around me is going to determine if I fulfill your little favor.”

“I think you just missed being inside me, Sooman. You let Chanyeol have all the fun and now I’m whipped,” you continued to egg him on, feeling disgusted with yourself after each lie fell from your lips.

“Inside you? Don’t flatter yourself, bitch. Any pussy will do. Chanyeol’s favorite pussy is just convenient for me,” his sudden entrance didn’t phase you as much as you let on. I wonder how he would take it if you told him how massive Chanyeol’s cock was. But instead, you winced in false pain as he rolled into you. He didn’t last long at all, just as you expected. It was only a few humiliating minutes you had to endure this before he came. Sooman wasn’t the type to cum inside you like Chanyeol and Jin were. No. He made sure to raise your dress high enough where he could dump himself on your ass cheeks, grunting as he finished riding out his climax. You reached out in front of you, grabbing some tissues from the box that was arms length away. Wiping his cum off you, you watched him plop in his seat eyeing you intently as you got up to fix yourself.

“So?” You asked innocently as you fixed your dress back over your bum. He smirked at you as he picked his phone up.

“Sophia, cancel the travel van scheduled to pick EXO up. Ms (Y/N) will be stepping out shortly, give her the keys that are in the bottom drawer.”

It fucking worked. It wasn’t just relief that you felt drip down your back but it was also doubt. Was sleeping with him really worth it? Worth your pride? At least it was over. You bowed at him when he hung up the phone and he just smirked.

“Thank you so much, Lee Sooman. I greatly appreciate it,” you said with you head hanging low. As you stood up straight, he tsked at you and laughed heartily. Another catch? You knew this was too good to be true. Still there was a role to play and you stayed devoted.

“A 90 degree bow? I deserve more respect then that. Especially from you,” he spat and he crossed his arms, eyeing you up and down. “On your hands and knees.”

Is he serious? You just sucked his dick and he fucked you all for free basically. I mean yea, you got what you wanted but still. He was out of his mind. And you had almost every to tell him off at this point but you made it so far. The damage had been done already. Thinking back to the times you were forced to show respect to your father, to his clients, it wasn’t that it was hard faking it. It’s just that your dignity, what ever was left of it, was shattering before your very eyes. But still, you did as you told, thinking about how Chanyeol’s scent would linger in your olfactory as you hugged him one last time.

“Thank you, Lee Sooman,” you said as your head touched the floor. “I am in debt to you.” You stayed there for a minute, not wanting the see the smug look on the old man’s face. But as he cleared his throat, you shot up from the floor with anticipation. Thankfully, he didn’t catch that.

“Get the fuck out of my office.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You stormed out of there with the taste of regret and disgust lingering in your mouth.

A/N ;; as always, DM what you guys think! I love y’all so muchhhh and thank you for reading. <3

[yoongihime]

Shape of You (M)

Model!OC x Photographer!Yoongi Length: 4.8K ..things got out of hand… Type: Three words drabble, birth from pure sin and thirst  Recommended OST: (x) and (x)  (a/n): “no really, this was me being a brat and thinking ‘hey how can I make this totally fluffy prompt into angst?’ and then it turned into sin. Must be the lack of sleep talking.” ….this was supposed to be a drabble…

Summary: Yoongi is not too keen on the fact that you, his muse, disappeared without a word two years ago. The two of you meet again at a casting, with Yoongi as the the photographer under the name SUGA. He’s livid, of course, but he can’t help the fact that he still remembers every curve and contours on your body.

Prompt By Anonnie: Sparkles, Petals, and Laughter (im sorry) Warnings: sex. sins. Yoongi being very naughty. 

001. Sparkles

Pins and needles prickle at your skin from the intensity of his scrutiny, the thin hairs on your arm standing on end, delicate flesh underneath forming ridges that continue to spread throughout your entire body from your head all the way down to your toes. Tremors blossom in the form of the most minuscule shivers that gradually build up intensity until your entire frame is aquiver, soft waves that only accentuates how your body is gloriously bare for his twisted pleasure. You hate how he can still elicit this kind of response from your body—two years truly changes nothing.

Your mind is buzzing with wild thoughts, the confines of your skull barely holding in your mental fretting. Despite the current state of turbulence in your head, your body revels in the attention that he’s shamelessly bestowing, his gaze drifting, languidly studying his masterpiece. His cold eyes that are staring you down from two feet away glints with amusement, the dark orbs saturated in lust and rage. It ignites your defiance, fueling your veins with adrenaline, compelling you to stand your ground against his desire to watch you crumble. 

 Min Yoongi was not always the picturesque depiction of frigid hostility like he is now. In fact, you dare say he was quite warm, towards you at least. He was sweet summer days and gummy smiles, the faint sound of the camera shutter and the sparkles of the ocean reflected in his eyes, until one day you silently departed from his grasp— without a single note of consolation. Bittersweet, that’s what it felt like. You still remember the day you decided to leave, you knew it was better for the both his career and yours, a raising-star photographer and an aspiring model, what a pair the two of you were. But you had to leave, Yoongi had too much potential to be wasted on the premise that you were his only muse, so you brought a oneway ticket to nowhere; picking up some fame along the way.

Strange, how you find yourself back at square one with Yoongi in front of you and your ability to conjure words proving fruitless. Oh, how you wish you could go back in time, just twenty four hours backwards, so you could tell your manager Seokjin what a horrible, stupid idea it would be to audition to model for the most coveted photographer in New York City: SUGA. Little did you know that you would walk right smack into your beautiful nightmare.

He was silent through the majority of your audition, your portfolio gripped in his hands, his figure slouched into the sleek leather of the back sofa. Meanwhile, you were blissfully oblivious to the fact that SUGA is in fact the very person you’ve been avoiding for the past two years, chirping happily to any questions they prompted you with until his coworker patted the lazy photographer none too gently,

“Yoongi, you’re not going to say anything? Man, what happened to the savage that made two newbies cry in the dressing room yesterday?”

Familiarity rang in your ears then and you had a split second decision of dashing completely out the room, but not before-

“I’m going to have to ask everyone, except (y/n) to leave the studio.”

And that’s how you find yourself in this current predicament, with Yoongi staring you down like a panther stalking it’s prey and you, the careless gazelle that ran right into the hands of death.

Thick silence settles in the room and you take this opportunity to study the man in front of you just as he’s recording every detail of you.

His hair is black now, you note, the ebony locks curling slightly on his forehead, deliberately messy, making his milky skin all the more ethereal in the dim lighting of the small room. His hair used to be a radiant blonde, but you suppose he doesn’t need such a thing as eccentric strands to attract attention now. Everything from his eyes to his rosy lips drown you in nostalgia, they remain strikingly similar to fragments of your fading memories. Those nebulas, ever so expressive are concealed by the gold rimmed specs balancing precariously on the tall bridge of his nose. Black ink paints it way up from underneath his thin white t-shirt, the vines’ movements deliberate like brushstrokes and you realize that they depict cherry blossoms crawling up the right side of his neck. You allot a few seconds to let your mind wander towards what other tattoos may be adorning his body under the thin material, only to have your lascivious fantasies disrupted when Yoongi floats towards you, stopping a hair away, leaving just enough space to have you yearning to close such insignificant distance.

“So, what kind of excuse did you come up for me today, doll face?”  he growls into the shell of your ear, causing you to whimper, the noise automatic in response to his sharp demand. He smirks at that, as if the visceral response from your body wasn’t enough of an indication of your desperation for his understanding.

“Go on, it must be good. You had two whole years to make it up after all.”

“Y-oongi,” you sigh out his name when he begins his maddening play, the coolness of his fingertips somehow drawing trails of fire across your skin. Yoongi fully smiles at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, it has been awhile since he’s heard the soft, sweet sound after all.

“Did you miss me, doll?” he whispers, his fingers coming up to swipe at your lips, the pad of his thumb pressing down on the soft flesh. He studies your doe eyes, filled with so much conflict and apprehension, but most of all regret. It almost pains him to see you like this when both of you know the reason for your departure was anything but selfish.

Yoongi knows that he’s already forgiven you the moment you walked into the room, radiant, none the less, with a new persona so strong that he was shaken from your progress. Fear, it was eating at him that maybe you’ve moved on with your career, leaving him behind in the dust, however just as quickly as it came, the nagging emotion dissipated once he flipped to the beginning of your portfolio and there it was. There, right on the first page was one of his favorite photographs he took of you. He had taken it once upon a time, back when he received his own camera as a hand me down from his uncle; back when he didn’t know left from right and aperture from exposure. There you were, smiling at him with your monochrome profile, the light in your eyes not in the least dull even through the 2D surface. Yoongi knew it then as he knows it now. He knows that you, with all your fiery passion is his muse and he’s just as excited as a kid on Christmas day to have you in his grasp again.

Yet, the past two years have been a cruel winter, barren of you and he wants, no, he needs you to know that.

“I know I did.” he confesses, words heavy with hurt, but his secret only serves to rile you up, your heart singing in elation at the newfound discovery.

“I’m sorry.” you murmur, the motions causing his thumb to brush against the plushness of your lips and you wait with bated breath for his reaction only to find another chill running down your spine at the fractional darkening of his eyes and the sinister smile that is spread across his face.

“I know you are, darling.” he chuckles when your brows knit together, words finally bubbling up in your throat but he interrupts you before-

“I will need you to show me.” he grins, the innocent action giving no hints towards the workings of his mischievous mind. Cool silver presses insistently into your hips when he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you in so that your flushed skin brushes against the silken material of his blazer. Your reaction is immediate, wanting him closer, but just as you’re about to reach for him, Yoongi leans away and next thing you know, his back is to you and his distant shout registering-

“See you on set tomorrow, doll face .”

The kiss he pressed on your cheek tingles, a searing imprint of his lips on your reddening skin.

002. Petals

There’s something sensual in the way the silk is brushing your form, a cool rush that slithers against your exposed limbs, the scraps of lace barely serving their function on the curves of your body. The burning light shining on you is warm, nearly uncomfortably so, adding to your flushed state that was no doubt induced by the inquisitive lens a few inches from you and the photographer behind them.

It’s even more intimate than you can imagine, the connection between a photographer and his muse. Thick silence occasionally broken with the frail shutter, a resounding beep that signified the arrival of the photo on the MacBook, your shaky sighs and Yoongi’s hum of amusement are the only sounds that register to you as the rest of the studio fades out of focus. You feel starkly bare, not from the flimsy lace, but rather from the intensity of Yoongi’s gaze, augmented by the magnifying lens that are covering his expression from your viewing pleasure. Yet, the way his breaths come out in uneven pants, accompanied by his surprised gasps when you shift into a rather bold pose are just enough of a response to have you desperate to rile him up even more. Payback is a bitch, you muse and it’s with this notion in your mind that you defiantly stare into the lens, an attempt to drown him in the rapture that he placed you in just twenty-four hours prior to this session.

“Our genius photographer is rather quiet today.” you hum as you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, brow arching and eyes twinkling: a perfect picture of invitation. Yoongi seems to pause at that, his lips twitching in a badly concealed show of his emotions, using the oscillating sounds of the shutter to answer for him.

Click.

“Our little doll is rather uncooperative today.” he replies, fingers stilling on the shutter and you fluidly shift to the next pose you’ve mentally lined up prior to the session.

Click.  

You gasp in the form of mock shock,

“Why, I think I’m doing a great job, if I do say so myself.”

“We’ll see about that.” is his noncommittal response and you idly wonder what else this session will entail.

Click.

As it turns out, your imagination does not get too far into the possibilities of the session when trouble walks into the studio in the form of a golden boy by the name of Kim Taehyung. He’s a brilliant sight, with his tussled blonde locks and a boxy smile to match and you can’t help but feel enamored when he easily makes you comfortable with his booming laughter. He’s a ball of sunshine, to the point where you wonder if they scouted the wrong man for the job, that is, until he’s in front of a camera.  

All hell breaks loose once he’s on set.

Taehyung is incredibly straightforward in his movements, so confident and assured as he presses petal-like kisses against the hallows of your neck, honeyed irises flashing with intentions so lewd you can physically feel Yoongi bristle behind the sanctuary of his camera.

“Closer.” Yoongi commands in his lazy drawl, as if he does not care about the already dwindling space between you and Taehyung. Pausing, you turn to search Yoongi’s cloudy expression for any hint of sarcasm, but your hesitance is cut short when two arms circle around your form to pull you closer. You nearly giggle at the way Yoongi displays regret of his own instructions with a frown when Taehyung pulls you onto his lap, the pair of you entangled in the most intimate of ways with measly layers of cloth covering your bodies.

Taehyung is a wonderful actor. Everything from his gaze, the slight graze of his teeth against your skin, to his whispered praises in your ear, they all melt you by the degree until you barely have to try to play the role of his lover. However, if Taehyung is the sun then Yoongi would be the ever constant moon, cold in his professionalism and detached to the point you feel a sharp sting at his chilling mannerisms.

The last click of the shoot resonates within you as you visibly relax in Taehyung’s grasp and watch as the friendly sunshine boy resurfaces in the form of round cheeks and eye crescents.

“Good job today (y/n)!” Taehyung giggles out, his nose brushing against yours as a form of affection. You’ve never seen someone change from five-year-old toddler to ranging sex god in a matter of seconds, but as expected of the modeling industry, they like to keep you on your toes.

“Good Job to you as well, Tae. I think you made it too easy for me.” you sigh into the plush comforter, fully stretching your spine out like a kitten after a nap. With your eyes closed, you’re relishing the warmth in your muscles when a slight shadow casts over your form and your eyes flutter open to find an impassive Yoongi, a tempest brewing behind his raven orbs.

“Go change (y/n), I can take you home.” he murmurs, eye drifting to Taehyung’s arm that you’re currently laying on.

“I can have Jin come pick me up. You don’t have to inconvenience yourself, Yoongi.”

He wordlessly hands you your phone, the screen flashing 1:38a.m. and a few messages from Jin.

Princess Peach [12:30a.m.]: “(y/n)! I’m so sorry love, but you’ll have to find a way home on your own. Big Emergency!”

You roll your eyes at “Big Emergency” because more often than not that just means he’s going to get dicked down by his boyfriend Namjoon. Yes, Big Emergency indeed Seokjin, you groan internally, not entirely pleased with the situation as you study the message on top.

Princess Peach [12:35a.m.]: “Have Yoongi take you home. At least I can trust the guy, but if he does I won’t expect you to be home in the morning. Be safe kids! ;)”

You face reddens at the realization that Yoongi most likely saw the text and his hushed chuckle is confirmation of the fact.

Momentarily clearing of your throat and one little huff of exertion later, you’re swinging your legs from the edge of the bed and straightening next to Yoongi, your breath stuttering when his cool palm slides around your waist to rest on your hip.

“G-good bye Tae, I’ll see you around.” you hate the stutter in your voice, absolutely abhor the airy quality that can only be elicited by the man drawing nonsensical patterns into your hipbone with his thumb.

“Goodbye, Darling” Taehyung purrs, tongue poking out to wet his lips and you’re all too aware of his intentions to test Yoongi’s patience when the elder tightens his hold on your waist and with a low grumble, ushers you out of the room.

003. Laughter

Frigid AC and his hand on your thigh, that’s all you register as the faint hum of his sleek engine roars with each press of his foot against the accelerator, tearing in the stillness of the early morning. Lights begin to blur as they pass at high velocity, swirling together into steaks of color that you fixate your gaze on in order to avoid staring at Yoongi’s sharp profile. Yet you know that you’ll cave eventually, you always do.

“Do you know the way to my apartment?” you’re the first to break the silence, glancing over at his hand on the wheel, the shapes decorating his arms and the blossoms caressing the side of his neck.

“No, but I know the way to mine, is that okay?” he answers, the hand on your thigh squeezing the tender flesh, his eyes now fixated on your own.

“Y-yes.” you cough out, the syllable being the only response your jumbled mind can muster, words sitting awkwardly in your mouth from the distraction on your thigh. Nervous laughter bubbling on your lips.  

“That’s what I like to hear, kitten.” he gloats, clearly pleased with himself.

Min Yoongi, you brat.

The night seems to progress in the same silence, you watch patiently as he punches in his passcode and remain impassive as he leads you into the space. He lives on the top floor studio, the windows littered with lights gleaming from below and the buzzing of the city muted at this height. His space is just like him, sleek, minimal with not much sentiments in pictures decorating the wall except for his more abstract landscape pieces. Standing there at the ledge, you decide to take the leap when you murmur,

“Are you angry?”

Your question implies to more than the events of occurring today, but you truly need to know if he’s still upset over your abrupt absence.

Yoongi sighs, his slouched form straightening to stand a mere millimeters from you, the heady scent of his minty cologne making you crave to feel him under your fingertips.

“Yes and no.” he whispers, as if the silence is a creature not to be disrupted. He trails his right hand down to interlock your fingers, bringing your joined hands to his lips to press a kiss onto each of your knuckle, every brush of his lips causing your heart to drum faster and faster against your chest.

“I am angry,” he says before he reaches the last knuckle, “but I shouldn’t be.”

A kiss.

“I am sorry.” you squeeze his hand that is still interlocked with yours, “I missed you.” you confess, the memories rushing to your skull, causing a stray tear to slip from the corner of your eye.

“I missed you so damn much, but I had to be better than I was Yoongi. You of all people know that.” quiet tears roll down your cheeks. Memories of cold nights and sore feet, ridiculous diets and measurement tapes still weigh heavily on your mind, those were some of the most grueling years of you life, until Seokjin pulled you out of your hellhole of a company and back to your passion for the profession.

“Shh, babydoll. I know.” He soothes your hiccups with a kiss on the crown of your head, finally pulling you into his arms. You don’t let yourself indulge in his embrace for long because you reach with both hands to cup his face, pulling him down until your lips crash hungrily against his. He tastes like his mint gum and whiskey, a dark, addictive combo that has your tongue swiping against the seams of his lips for more. Feeling more than hearing his groan of surprise, you slip your hands around his neck, fingers intertwining with the stray locks there and tugging, earning you yet another groan.

“Babygirl, what are you doing?” he chuckles and halfheartedly nips at your earlobe in warning. As if of their own accord, your hands drift to the buttons in the front of his crips white dress shirt, deconstructing the seam one button at a time. You’re too focused on painting nebulas to accompany the cherry blossoms on his neck to pay attention to his question, but a much harsher bite on the curve on your shoulder snaps your attention back to his questioning stare.

“Making up for lost time.” you state in matter-of-a-fact fashion, returning the gesture with a soft nip to his earlobe, his array of silver earrings cool against your tongue.

“We have the rest of tomorrow, and the next day, and the next…” Yoongi utters, trying to convince himself more than you that the pair of you have all the time in the world.

“If you don’t want me anymore I can find someone else to occupy my time.” you sigh against the corner of his lips, enthralled by the way his mouth twitches in annoyance and his hands immediately tighten their hold on your waist, one of them so daring as to trail down and grip the curve of your ass.

“Say that again (y/n) and I promise you that you will regret being such an impatient princess.”

Pushing away from him entirely, you’re walking backwards towards the bedroom with Yoongi following close after as you smoothly recite,

“I said, Min Yoongi, if you don’t want me anymore I can find someone else to occupy my time.” the sentence barely leave your lips when he scoops you up in his arms, hands settled under your thighs and your legs locked behind his back. Slamming you into the closed door, you fell a dull ache at the rough action but the growing ache of your arousal is a more pressing manner in your lust clouded mind.  

“Strip.” he says as he releases his hold on you, choosing to sit himself down on the edge of his bed, legs parted to palm his erection over his tight jeans. Working methodically, you first pull off the black long sleeve to reveal the white babydoll that the staff gifted to you from today’s shoot. The lace clinging to your breasts, showcases your budding nipples and billows off into soft ruffles which is accentuated by the pure white panties that are coming into view as you shimmy out of your jeans. Yoongi swore under his breath, here you are a picture of purity, yet so pliant under his commands. Maybe he was a sinner with the sole goal of corruption.

“Come here,” he motions and you immediate kneel in between his legs, soft lashes blinking up at him in question, “Beautiful.” he moans when you grab his belt, but is quick to slap your greedy hands away.

“Do you want to have a taste?” he questions, his head tilting along with the prompt and you’re left to wonder how much self control this man possess in his body. Mutely nodding, you’re met with a low tsk and his finger against your chin forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Your words, beautiful.”

“Yes I would love to have a taste of you, sir.”  

“My what?”

A smirk.

Curse you Min Yoongi.

“Your cock, sir.”

A smile.

He unbuckles his belt at a torturous pace, each distinctive clink of the metal grating your nerves until Yoongi himself loses patience at his game and pushes his jeans and boxers down with a flourish and your mouth waters at the sight before you: Yoongi, his dark gaze pinning you to the spot with his milky skin on display, the black ink on the smooth surface only spurring you to explore the expanse of skin offered to you. His erection stands proudly against his stomach, red and leaking with drops of pearly white precum,

“Can I please touch you?” you whimper, holding your breath for his next move.

As a response, he cards his hand through your hair, gripping a fistful in his hands as he pulls you closer,

“No hands, baby.”

Nodding in understanding, you begin by giving him tiny licks before enclosing your lips around the head and pushing yourself down on his shaft, making sure to run your tongue along the prominent vein at the underside. Truly, the bitter taste and your watery eyes hold no particular value, but the way Yoongi is panting above you, his hands tightening in your hair, tugging just enough to have him whining from your ministrations is the reason your core is aching, the white of your panties turning translucent from your arousal. He pulls away with a pop when you start playing dirty by humming around his length, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he struggles to compose himself from the vibrations.

He offers no instruction but instead pulls you towards the mattress, pulling your body down on the mass of white and his body hovering above yours. Yoongi nearly loses all composure form  seeing you like this; flushed and sweaty for him, embellished with delicate white lace, you’re the most sinful angel he has ever seen.

“God, how are you so beautiful to me?” he growls as he kisses his way down the length of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Calloused hands lift up your thigh as his kisses continue in rapid successions until he’s right at the edge of your panties, humming in approval at the soaking wetness he finds.

“You ruined your gift from today, doll.” he observes, lazily snapping the band of your panties against your hipbone, causing you to jolt in his hold.

“I suppose I’ll just have to buy you new ones.” he kisses his promise into the juncture between your thighs and your folds, his other hand sliding the ruined lace off and fulling drinking in the slight of you dripping for him.

“Yoongi, please.” you keen, the prolonged wait causing your nerve endings to spark with sensitivity. So when he flattens his tongue against your folds, the slick muscle eating you out in earnest, you wail and grasp onto his strands, nails digging into his scalp, his low groan of approval buzzing through your entire body.

“More, please please. Yoongi don’t stop.” you nearly bawl when he listens to your request and slips two fingers inside, choosing to purse his lips over your clit and suck hard. You’re a mess at this point, one hand gripping his hair the other clutching the comforter as Yoongi relentlessly continues with his sinful tongue and fingers, causing you to see stars within seconds. You lay boneless on his bed, the obscene squelch of his fingers leaving you causes you to shiver as the man himself lifts his hand to his mouth, deliberately licking off all traces of your pleasure.

“Yoongi, I need you.” you mewl when he kisses his way back up your body, trails of fire licking at your sweat covered skin.

“Such a greedy kitten.” Yoongi sighs, his weight abruptly disappearing from above you and you open your eyes in time to see him slip off his pesky dress shirt.

“Go on, princess. Take what you need. I want to see you work for it.”

Who are you to deny such a tempting invitation?

So you crawl over towards him, quickly straddling his lap and rubbing yourself on his length, the friction so delicious you forget your original goal as you moan softly, losing yourself in the skin on skin contact.

“Kitten, don’t tease.” he growls, his blunt nails digging into your hips.Your eyes snap open to observe how fucked out his looks, hair mussed and pupils completely dilated, breaths puffing from his rosy, bitten lips and you realize you cannot wait anymore either. With shaky hands you align yourself to his length and slowly lower yourself until you’re sitting on his thighs, his cock filling you up to the hilt.

“God, how are you so tight.” Yoongi groans, busying his mind by scattering marks on your collarbone. His hands scramble to pull the last bit of lace off your body, fingers skimming across the valleys of your breasts before taking one into his mouth. He stills completely when you begin to move, you hips drawing tantalizing circles against his, pulling him closer to his release.

“I’m close, Yoongi.” you cry when he thrusts up to meet your hips, the burning in your thighs and the thudding of the headboard evidence of your passionate session. Yoongi gives a short grunt as reply when he trusts even harder up into you, brushing against your bundle of nerves. Your breaking point is surpassed when he growls, “Come for me, kittten.” into the shell of your ear, his raspy voice always the object of your end.

Waves of bliss wash over your body, electric flashes of sensory overload that makes you clench tightly around him, coaxing him towards his own release. Yoongi comes with a shout of your name and warmth painting your walls, shallow thrusts working both you and him from your high.

In the afterglow, you find yourself tracing the patterns of his tattoos, marks of growth from when you two parted ways.

“I love you, you know?” you admit, staring into his glossy eyes, liquid pleasure still flowing in his veins.

He’s a masterpiece.  

“I’ve never stopped loving you.” he answers and the sincerity in his eyes cannot be mistaken for a split second decision made by lust.

You’re his masterpiece.

Perhaps it’s the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your veins, or maybe the sheer joy in the moment but both of you burst out in laughter. A sweet kiss and many lingering touches forge your reunion and you’ve never been so content for a warm body next to yours.

.

.

.

.

Princess Peach [8:00a.m.]: I hope your Big Emergency was resolved (y/n) ;)

Me: [9:30a.m.]: You’re so dead once I get back.

[lavender--girl]

Yoonmin fic idea: (This may be long idk I’ve had the idea for a very long time)

Alright, so, it start off with a 6 (?) Year old Jimin and his mother. It’s in very old times and magic is a thing and Jimin live in a small village and his family is very poor bc his father left. His mother is telling him a story of a man who was very arrogant and stuff. The man and his friends were walking one day when they come across an old woman who claims she is a witch and will grant them a wish each if they do her a favor. The man doesn’t believe her and makes it know that he doesn’t. He mocks her and calls her crazy. She tells him to ask for something and he, thinking this is all a hoax, wished for youth and immortality. The woman said he would regret it and left. He thought it was hilarious but his friends did not think likewise. As the years passed he realized that the woman was actually a witch because while his friends grew old he stayed the same. He watched the people he loved die before his eyes while he stayed the same. He tried countless times to kill himself but it never worked. Finally he decided he needed to find the witch. He searched everywhere and though he was never able to find her he did find her little cottage. There was a letter on a dust covered table. He went to it and read that it was addressed to “the one that doubted.” He figured it was for him and after he read it he found out it was for him. The letter basically said that she was going to be burned to death bc they found out she was a witch and that she heard he was looking for her. She said the only way to break the curse was for him to find the boy of the same blood as her, fall in love, watch him die, then find him again. He didn’t understand. He never left the cottage. He had no where else to go. His hair turned white and so did his skin. He never went out and the small village that was near his cottage lived in fear of him, thinking he was a witch too. Basically, the story is to tell Jimin to never travel on the road that goes through the woods bc that’s where he lives.

Skip a few years to where Jimin is like 21. His mother tells him to take something to his grandmother who live in the village over. He decides to take the road through the woods bc it would cut his trip down by a day. So he does and he ends up seeing a shadow and then tripping and hurting his knee really bad or something like that and a person wearing a very dark purple (or whatever color you want) cloak comes out from behind the trees and goes to help him. Jimin is scared out of his mind but the person helps him. He asks if he can take him back to his cottage so he can properly wrap his knee up and Jimin is vaguely reminded of the old fable his mother would tell him before bed and the thought that this might be the man crossed his mind but he quickly dismisses it and tells himself that its just a stupid story parents tell their children to keep them away from the woods and decides to go with the man. When they get to his cottage Jimin sits down and the man takes his cloak off. Jimin sees the palest man and the whitest hair he’s ever seen. He quickly realizes that the stories were real. He panicks and the man turns around and smiles he says something along the lines of, “I never get any visitors. It’s actually kinda nice to see you. Sometimes i feel like I’m going crazy. It’s probably not healthy to live 200 years I’m solitude.” Jimin has internal conflict on whether or not he should stay or run as fast as He can. It ends with him staying out of curiosity. He stays the night and heads to his grandmothers when the morning comes. When he leaves the man, Yoongi, asks if Jimin could possibly visit again sometime and Jimin agrees that he will try to visit about once a week.

A few months later and Jimin is visiting Yoongi once a day, sometimes staying the night. They fall in love. Jimin knows it’s wrong. His village had a law against being with your own gender, a law that is punishable by death. But as he slips into their love one night he can’t seem to care because something wrong wouldn’t feel like this. It wouldn’t feel like his skin was on fire every time Yoongi touched his lips to it. It wouldn’t feel like his heart was beating too fast for him to keep up every time his and Yoongi’s skin met. The next morning he wakes up in Yoongi’s arms and looks up at the older man. He was ok with dying for this man.

One day Yoongi decides to go to the village. He needed to see Jimin but he had no way to get to him. So he grabbed his cloak and went. He found Jimin in the market place. He was holding a few of Yoongi’s favorite fruits. He smiled to himself and walked up to the boy and placed a hand in the small of his back. Jimin turned and saw Yoongi. He smiled and something happens to where Yoongi’s hood ends up calling off. People around them see the man and they automatically know who he is. There’s no one else he could be. They see his hand placed on Jimin back and the look on his eyes. They knew what was happening just by that, but they knew Jimin mother. They knew that their family had it ruff so let letting alone and went to talk to his mother.

His mother was furious. She knew he hadn’t been home many days out of the week but he always told her he was going to grandmothers or he was with his friends. When he came back home the next day she confronted him. She asked where he had been and she knew he was lying. She asked again and again until he finally told her. She forbade him from going out to the cottage again. Told him that no son of her’s was going to lie with another man especially one like him. Jimin cried and pleaded for just one more night. Just to say goodbye and then he would never see him again. She did not let him.

The next night Jimin snuck out. He had his friend, Taehyung, send word to Yoongi to meet him close to the entrance of the woods and the older man did so. Jimin ran as fast as He could to the woods but what he didn’t know was that there were a few men of the village the decided that if they saw Jimin leave his house to go to the woods they would kill him bc of the law. Jimin was so close to the woods that he could see Yoongi standing there. He saw Yoongi’s beautiful smile and stopped running. He was walking to him when Jimin felt a sharp pain in his lower back. He saw Yoongi’s smile leave and the older man started running to him. Jimin was still trying to get to him but as another arrow was shot his legs failed him. Yoongi was there just in time to catch him. Jimin raised a hand up to his face and his last words words were, “please Yoongi, don’t stay in that old cottage and lock yourself away for hundreds of years again. You have an extraordinary curse. Please. See the world I wasn’t able too. I love you Yoongi.”

He held Jimin in his arms and as the sun rose Jimin died.

He was seated just outside of the woods. Holding his dead lover in his arms. Unable to control his emotions Yoongi screamed out in agony. The pain hurt him so much he couldn’t bare it. For the first time since he had met Jimin he wished that he could just die. The villagers gathered around the two boys and watched as Yoongi prayed to whatever God there was that this was some sick twisted dream.

After what felt like an eternity to yoongi the man got up. He held Jimin in his arms and walked to the villagers. He asked, “Do you know where his mother lives?” They nodded and pointed to one of the smaller houses. He walked Jimin to the house and knocked on the door. An old middle aged woman opened the door. Upon seeing the boy in Yoongi’s arms and crumpled to the ground and Yoongi quickly later Jimin on a bed before his knees gave out too. He apologized. He told her that her son had caused him the most happiness in his life in just a little under a year. He asked her if he could please have something of Jimin’s. She nodded her head and went to Jimin. She took off a necklace the boy was wearing and have it to Yoongi. She said that it had been his father’s and he wore it everyday. He thanked her and left.

He went back to his cottage and looked at the necklace. It has a charm that looked very familiar. He was digging through a wardrobe of old things that belonged to the witch that lived here before him. He found the same charm. Suddenly it all made sense. The boy of the same blood. Fall in love. Watch him die. Find him again.

Jimin was the boy that had to break the curse.

Remembering Jimin last words, Yoongi started packing his things. He would be off the next day. He wasn’t going to stay here and disappoint Jimin. He had to see the world his lover never got to see.

Skip forward hundreds of years to modern times. Yoongi is in New York or something like that and he hasn’t given up hope. He still has dreams of his love. He never goes a day without thinking of him. Then one day, Yoongi goes to a cafe, one that one of his friends, Hoseok, recommended. He walks in and heads a small gasp come from the man at the cash register. He looks up and he’s met with the eyes of Jimin. He looks the same, well, except he now has pink hair, but besides that he looks exactly the same, maybe even more beautiful. They lock eyes and Yoongi knew that Jimin knew who he was. Yoongi makes his way up to the counter and smiles at Jimin. The younger boy asks quietly, “a-are you real? I-I’m not dreaming right? We-we’re not in a village. We are in my work right? You’re name is Yoongi and-and I’m not insane. Right?” Yoongi could see tears in the boys eyes and he just nodded his head and said, “Jimin, I’ve waited so, so long to see you again.” Jimin watched as Yoongi suddenly changed before him. The pale man regained color again and his white hair changed to black. “Wh-what just happened?” Yoongi smiled at his confusion, “You broke the curse jiminnie.” Jimin ran around the counter and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and brought him down into a beautiful kiss.

Jimin and Yoongi loved out the reast of their lives. Yoongi finally aged past 23 and was ecstatic. They were happy and everything was ok.

OH WOW. This is very very long and I apologize but I’ve literally had this idea for months and I can’t make it sound right when I try to write it as a book. I hope you like this. I almost cried while writing it but, you know, I love this. If you want to use the idea you can just please like tell me so I can read it.

[out-of-jams]

Airplane Mode | Track 01: Piece of Peace (P.O.P.) | jhs

Summary: Set in the same universe as Love at First Touch by bagelswrites.

In a world where a bruise marks the first touch of your soulmate, time is the only thing that matters. The marks take hours to appear, sometimes even days if you're really unlucky. Once First Touch is initiated, both parties only have a few weeks to find the other. From then on, the body begins to reject any form of sustenance other than the touch of the other. If one fails to find their soulmate, they starve to death.

So what happens when your soulmate is an internationally famous idol?

And you're just one fan in a sea of many who can't even speak the same language.

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem Character

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre: Fluff. Angst. Idol!au. Smut. Soulmate!au. Explicit language.

Warnings: This chapter contains swearing and a description of a panic attack. If you wish to skip the panic attack part, do not read the end of the last section.

Words written like this are words spoken in Korean.

                      Next | Masterlist | Track List |

“Where the hell are you?”

A femine voice yelled into the phone pressed against her ear. The loud, excited chatter of the group of young girls in line in front of her threatened to drown out her voice. Pulling the drenched hood of her hoodie further over her head, the girl attempted to shield herself from the cold rain.

“I’m a block away. Don’t get your panties in a wad, Jae.”

Eunjae huffed as the deep voice of her best friend grumbled through the phone’s speaker. She watched as her breath dispersed from her mouth in a cloud of white and almost, almost, felt a brief whisper of regret.

The denim of Eunjae’s jacket caught on the brick of the building she was leaning against and she muttered a curse. It was the middle of January in New York City and damn was it cold . Even after living in the city for most of her life, Eunjae still didn’t know how she managed to survive the cold months. Eyes narrowed on the back of the girl’s BTS sweatshirt in front of her, Eunjae reminded herself of why she was enduring such torture.

Do it for the boys,  she sang the mantra in her head, bouncing on the toes of her Doc Martens in a poor attempt at warming up.  For those beautiful boys and their beautiful voices.  

The teenaged girl in line behind her let out a screech of excitement and Eunjae gripped the phone in her hand tighter. Teeth chattering, she opened her mouth to respond to her best friend on the other line.

“Yeah well, you left me forever ago and I’m dying over here. Do you want to be responsible for my death, Miles?”

“First off, I left to get an umbrella ten minutes ago, you ingrate. Jesus, you’re so overdramatic.” Eunjae could feel the boy rolling his eyes over the phone. “Besides, you’re the one who dragged me all the way out here, so you can’t even complain.”

“Dragged you?” Eunjae raised an eyebrow even though he wasn’t there to see it. “You peed your pants when I told you I got tickets to a fanmeet with BTS.”

“I did not pee my pants ! I just got a little excited, okay?”

Eunjae’s laughter rang into the air and she could taste the rain on her tongue as she tilted her head back. “You said the same thing in fifth grade after you wet yourself in front of the whole cla-”

Click.

A grunt of annoyance left her at the sudden dial tone ringing in her ear. “That idiot hung up on me.”

“Yeah, well, you were being rude as hell.”

The rain that had been pelting the top of her white hoodie ceased and Eunjae turned her head to find Miles towering over her. His white-blond hair was completely drenched, flopping over his tan forehead. The rain had ruined whatever product she knew he must have spent hours that morning putting into it. Miles had the black hood of his thin sweatshirt thrown up over his head in a meager attempt at shielding himself from the downpour. The zipper was pulled up just far enough to show off the silver chains around his neck, and the top of his purple “eat, sleep, BTS, repeat” shirt stuck out from under his soaked sweatshirt.

The soft pitter-patter of the rain hitting the clear umbrella he held in his hand eased some of the nervous tension in Eunjae’s body. She slid the hood off her head and ran a hand through the damp silver tresses. The rings adorned on one of her hands caught on a particularly stubborn tangle and she grimaced in pain.

“Yeah, well, hanging up is also rude as hell.” Eunjae fired back, finally succeeding in taming her long hair.

“I don’t know why I put up with you.” Miles rolled his green eyes before nodding his head towards the front of the line. “Ooh, I think they’re finally letting us in. Just in time too! Hallelujah! I can not wait to finally get to meet those beautiful specimens they call humans.”

“And you call me overdramatic.” Eunjae muttered under her breath with a small smile. Miles was right. The doors to the venue had finally been opened, and the line slowly started to trickle into the building.

As the pair made their way towards the staff checking tickets at the door, Eunjae began to feel her palms sweat. She’d been a fan of BTS for the past year, and even though Miles teased her for being so late to hop onto the BTS Express, she was beyond excited. And nervous. Very, very nervous.

Bangtan Sonyeondan had gained so much traction in the last year that they were practically a household name. Eunjae had been trying to get tickets to one of their concerts ever since Miles introduced them to her. But Bangtan hadn’t had anything scheduled in New York City until now.

Winning a lottery for a fanmeet with BTS was something that Eunjae had never imagined happening to her. When she’d gotten the email, she’d screamed so loud that her grandmother barged into her room armed with a baseball bat because she’d thought they were getting robbed. Eunjae had called Miles up right away, who’d literally burst into tears over FaceTime. He’d been a fan of BTS since they first debuted, but he’d only ever been to a few concerts; nothing as personal and intimate as a fanmeet.

One of the staff at the front of the line scanned the tickets on Eunjae’s phone and they were ushered in with a short wave of the hand. Stepping inside, Eunjae let out a sigh as the warmth of the building’s central heating hit her frozen skin.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” Miles squeaked as they walked down the aisle of the room holding the fanmeet. There were about a hundred black folding chairs set up in multiple rows, the first few rows already being taken up by fans. Front and center of the room was a small stage with a long tablecloth table and seven empty chairs.

“Stop, you’re making me more nervous.” Eunjae elbowed Miles in the side. The line had snaked its way around and her short legs bumped into the neatly lined chairs as she shuffled into their row.

“Sorry, not sorry.” Miles let out a shaky breath as they took a seat. Eunjae could feel the cold of the metal beneath her damp, ripped skinny jeans and she shivered.

Glancing over at Miles as he nervously fiddled with the folded umbrella between his legs, Eunjae reached over to pat the top of one of his cold hands. She hadn’t seen him this nervous since he’d confessed to a boy he’d been crushing on in their junior year math class years ago. Even though they teased and annoyed the crap out of each other, the two of them always looked out for each other.

“You okay?” She asked, eyebrows scrunched in concern, pushing her own nervousness to the wayside.

“Yeah, I’m good, JJ.” Miles bumped his grey jeaned leg into hers. “Just nervous. Like, what if I go to say something to them and just...just...?”

“Pee your pants?”

An unattractive snort shot out of his nose and he shook his head with a smile. “You know what? I hope you mess up those Korean phrases you spent so much time learning.”

“I’ll have you know that I didn’t spend that much time learning them.’” Eunjae turned her nose up at him. “I am  half Korean, ‘ya know. So I know what I’m-”

“You literally spent two days trying to figure out how to say ‘hi, my name is Eunjae Morales,’ you poser.”

Eunjae’s snarky response was cut off as the girls and few boys around them erupted into screams. Head snapping back around to the front of the room, Eunjae’s mouth parted as seven of the world’s most beautiful human beings stepped out onto the stage one after another.

The album cover clenched between Eunjae’s white knuckled fingers was the only thing keeping her grounded. The line of fans in front of her were dwindling down as one after another, they took their turn stepping in front of the long table at the front of the room. Despite the water still dampening her clothes, Eunjae felt herself breaking into a nervous sweat. Maybe she should have taken off the denim jacket, but it was too late now.

“I’m looking at Kim Namjoon right now.” Miles clutched at Eunjae’s elbow, his green eyes blown wide as they locked onto the first person seated at the table. “ Kim Namjoon . I can’t breathe.”

Nodding in silent agreement, Eunjae couldn’t bring herself to form words as she stared past the few people left in front of her in line. Kim Namjoon, famed leader of Bangtan Sonyeondan, sat in the first chair. Tanned skin and dimpled cheeks, he hid his symmetrical face behind one of his big hands shyly as the fan kneeling in front of him whispered something to him. Pink, full lips pulling up into an embarrassed smile, Kim Namjoon crossed one of his long legs over the other beneath the table.

“I swear to God, if Seokjin speaks to me, I might actually spontaneously combust.” Miles was going to leave a bruise if he clutched at her arm any longer.

Wincing, Eunjae pried his fingers from her person. Breathing in shakily, she joked, “well, I hope everyone knows where the fire exits are.”

“Stop using humor to deflect.” Miles wasn’t even looking at her, too busy ogling the next man sitting at the table: Min Yoongi.

“Wow, call me out on my faults, will you?” Eunjae didn’t even comprehend what she was saying as she watched wide-eyed as the person in front of her stepped onto the small stage and kneeled down in front of Kim Namjoon. “Some friend you are.”

“Holy shit you’re next.” Miles breathed.

“Holy shit I’m next.”

Eunjae felt her breath catch in her throat as the space in front of Namjoon cleared. She didn’t have a particular bias out of the members, but the confident brilliance of Kim Namjoon just did something to her.

Her dark eyes widened when the staff member positioned next to the stage waved her forward. It took Miles prodding her in the back for her to move, feet shuffling up the small steps to the stage. As she kneeled down in front of Namjoon and placed her album onto the table, he looked up from his marker with a smile.

Wow, those dimples are dangerous , she thought, mouth opening and closing without sound.

“Hello.” Kim Namjoon’s deep voice was like butter as he reached for her album. “What’s your name?”

“Uh,” she stuttered out unintelligently as he neatly signed his signature onto the album. All of the Korean that she’d practiced beforehand slipped completely from her mind. She was just lucky that Namjoon was fluent in English. “Eunjae Morales.”

“Nice to meet you, Eunjae.” Namjoon’s cheeks dimpled as he held up a hand for her to high five. Her small hand gently tapped his and she almost died on the spot.

“You too.” Enjae wouldn’t have been able to say anything more even if she’d wanted to. A staff member appeared behind Namjoon from seemingly out of nowhere to wave her on. She was barely able to squeeze out a “fighting!” before she slid down to the next member.

Eunjae’s interaction with Min Yoongi passed in a blur. She’d barely been able to stammer out a sentence from underneath his unfaltering gaze. And when he flashed her his patented gummy smile, Eunjae couldn’t help the shy grin she sent back in return. In the middle of his accented sentence in English, he lifted up a hand for her to high five, smile widening at the blush that spread across her cheeks.

Sliding down the table, she glanced up and felt the breath stutter in her chest when she met the dark eyes of Kim Seokjin. His face was even more beautiful in person and when his plush lips tilted up in a smile, she almost fainted on the spot. His dark hair was parted to reveal forehead and the lightly tanned skin of his arms shone under the lights as he reached out for her album. Seokjin didn’t know a lot of English, however, so they weren’t really able to converse. But he sent another radiant smile her way as he grasped one of her hands in both of his and squeezed gently.

Before moving down again, Eunjae took a peak at Miles behind her. She had to muffle her laughter from his wide-eyed stare of awe as he admired the beautiful Kim Seokjin. Lips twitching, she shuffled down the table once again with shaking hands.

“Hello!” The enthusiastic greeting of Jung Hoseok met her ears in his cute, accented English.

Wow, this is just not fair.  Eunjae barely stopped herself from speaking the thoughts out loud. Hoseok’s eyes turned into crescent moons as he grinned down at her, showing off his perfectly straight teeth. A grey bucket hat hid most of his wavy, dark hair from view, and Eunjae was glad that his stylists didn’t force him to straighten it. Popping up between the corners of his pink lips and high cheekbones were tiny, cute dimples.

“Hi.” Eunjae answered, hands coming up to cover the bottom half of her face shyly. Why are all these men so beautiful?  

Ignoring the album in front of him, Hoseok excitedly gestured a ringed finger back and forth between them before declaring, “the same!”

Eunjae tilted her head in confusion at his words for a moment before glancing down at where he was gesturing. A very unladylike snort left her as soon as she noticed what he meant. Hoseok was dressed in a plain white T-shirt with a denim jacket thrown over it, incidentally matching with her white hoodie and denim jacket.

“Hey, I had this on first.” The words came out automatically, muffled as she spoke around the fingers covering her lips. Her nervousness caused the words to stumble out without her permission. “You copied me.”

Hoseok’s contagious laughter burst from his lips and his hand stopped waving between them as he leaned forward. Elbows propped onto the table, he reached out to gently pull Eunjae’s hands from her face. Smaller hands held in his long fingers, Hoseok’s glittering eyes roved her face.

“Name?”

Attempting to force the blush from her cheeks, Eunjae sputtered out the first words that came to mind. Which was, finally , the correct translation of her practiced introduction in Korean. It seemed almost impossible, but Hoseok’s smile widened even more as he stared at her in surprise, hands squeezing her own.

“ You speak Korean ?”  

Eunjae blinked as she attempted to slowly translate the rapid fire Korean that just left his lips. Her brow creased as she grasped at the words that had long since been buried in the back of her brain. She hadn’t held a conversation in Korean since she was a kid, and what was once easily translated now came with great difficulty.

“ Uh, very small. ” Eunjae winced at what she was sure was an incorrect sentence. “ Sorry .”

Hoseok let go of her hands and leaned forward to gently sandwich her burning cheeks between his soft palms. “ Gwiyeopda !”

That word Eunjae did not know, though it sounded vaguely familiar. Before she could form a response, the space in front of Kim Taehyung, who sat next to Hoseok, finally emptied. A staff member materialized over Hoseok’s shoulder to gesture her along. He gave Eunjae one last parting, dimpled smile before finally releasing her. He quickly signed album that laid forgotten between them before sliding it down to the left.

“Bye-bye!”

Eunjae sent him a parting smile and a stammered “bye” before finding herself kneeling in front of the beautiful Kim Taehyung. Sitting this close, she was able to make out all the details of his visage. His golden skin practically glowed under the lights of the room and his hair had recently been dyed a beautiful blond. Long, slender fingers gently slid her album closer to himself. With one double lidded eye, and one single lidded eye, he peered up at her from under his long lashes as he enthusiastically scrawled his signature.

“Hi!” Taehyung let his marker fall carelessly to the table and he reached out to grab onto her hands. Fingers intertwining with hers, he sent her a cute boxy smile and waved their conjoined hands side to side.

“Hi!” Eunjae had always been the type of person to automatically mold her energy to the people around her. And Taehyung’s energy was definitely nudging hers from shy to excited.

Like Seokjin, Taehyung’s grasp on the English language was very limited. So their interaction just consisted of him waving their conjoined hands around in a very uncoordinated dance. Meeting an adorable Park Jimin, who had been sitting next to Taehyung, and a shy Jeon Jungkook passed by in the blink of an eye.

Before she knew it, Eunjae was descending the tiny steps to the stage. She didn’t make it far down the aisle before Miles was back at her side, hand snaking out to clutch onto her arm for dear life.

“This has been the single, most greatest day of my life.” He gushed as they sat back down. Miles let his eyes trail back over the line of boys sitting at the table with a starstruck expression. “I think I’m in love.”

Nodding, Eunjae subtly flexed her hands. “It should be illegal to be that beautiful.”

“Then I would be in jail, sweetie.”

Shaking her head, Eunjae turned back to the front of the room and watched as the seven men bounced their energy off of one another. Jimin had the microphone in his hand, playfully taunting a glaring Seokjin. As the last few fans trickled off the stage, all Eunjae could think about for the rest of the fanmeet was how cold her hands felt.

Bare feet sinking into the soft, shag carpet underneath the couch in Miles’ one bedroom apartment, Eunjae groggily sat up. Dawn was just beginning to peek through the closed blinds of the small living room as she sat upright for a few moments to gather her bearings. Eunjae’s head pounded in sync with her heartbeat, each bump-bump sending a searing pain through her skull.

After the fanmeet the day previous, Eunjae and Miles had retreated back to his tiny one bedroom apartment in the lower West Side. After stuffing themselves with leftover chinese food, the two of them had ended up retreating to bed. Too lazy to hike down to the subway to trek all the way back home to Queens, Eunjae raided Miles’ closet for pajamas and crashed shortly after.

Eyes squinting groggily at the clock face on the tv’s cable box, Eunjae grumbled angrily at her pressing bladder. She’d only been asleep for a few hours and the warmth of the couch cushions was calling to her. Ignoring the temptation, she slowly rose to her feet, muscles weak and achy like she’d decided to run a marathon the day previous.

Eunjae blindly felt her way down the short hallway between the living room and kitchenette, stumbling through the first door on the left. The lone window behind the bathroom counter was enough for her to see by. So, without bothering to turn the light on, she locked the door and shuffled across the room. After doing her business, she ran her hands under the warm tap water, eyes closed. It wasn’t until she turned off the tap that she looked up.

“Holy shit .”

Eyes wide in alarm, she braced herself against the counter and leaned to further inspect herself in the mirror hanging above the sink. Both sides of her face were covered in ugly, dark purple bruises. They were the darkest right on the apple of her cheeks before fading to a greenish-yellow around her chin and right under her eyes.

“What the hell?”

Eunjae reached out a shaky finger to gently prod at one of her cheeks, only to stop halfway once she noticed the bruising that covered the back of her hand as well. Both hands, in fact. How had she managed to hurt herself to such an extent without even realising? Actually, Eunjae was pretty sure that those bruises hadn’t been there when she went to sleep. Were those…?

Heart leaping in her throat, Eunjae threw the bathroom door open and screamed out for Miles. She refused to tear her eyes away from her reflection in disbelief at what she was seeing. The bruises looked familiar to something that had been covered in every year of grade school since the third grade. But it couldn’t be. She couldn’t have…

“Why are you screaming bloody murder?” The groggy, sleep filled voice of Miles reached out for her from down the hallway and she let out a shaky breath before answering.

“Miles, I need you to come look at this and tell me I’m crazy.”

“What?” His voice was closer now, and Eunjae saw his head poke into the bathroom through the mirror. “Why are you standing here in the dark like a...oh, my God.”

“Please tell me that I fell down somewhere last night and just don’t remember it.” Eunjae pleaded, the cold edge of the counter digging into her stomach.

The boy didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved to stand next to her, his sharp profile catching her eye as he stared down at the bruises on her face. Miles reached out a hand as if he were going to trace her cheek, but he stopped halfway, hand hanging limp between them.

“No,” his voice was quiet as he stared in awe. “No, you didn’t fall.”

There was a beat of silence where neither of them spoke. The only noise that filled the still air was the soft melody of a songbird perched somewhere outside the window.

“Eunjae.” Miles hadn’t used her first name since they were children. “Those look like that marks of First Touch.”

Eunjae couldn’t verbally respond. She just nodded her head slowly in agreement.

“I think you met your soulmate.”

The marks that covered her skin were not ordinary bruises; they were soulmarks, the sign of First Touch. The first time someone’s skin brushed against that of their soulmate’s, it left behind a bruise at the point of contact. Not right away, however, it took hours, sometimes even days, for them to appear on the skin.

Finding your soulmate sounded great on paper, but once First Touch was initiated, both parties only got a few weeks to find the other. From then on, the body would begin to reject any form of sustenance other than the touch of the other. If one failed to find their soulmate, they starved to death. It wasn’t very common, only three-fourths of the population succeeded in finding their soulmate. It was a rarity. A blessing, some called it.

Or a curse.

“Yeah..,” Eunjae’s voice trailed off, mind reeling. “I think so too.”

Miles turned his head to met her eyes through the mirror. “Do you know who it is?”

Shaking her head, Eunjae answered, “the only people I touched yesterday were you, and--”

Both of their eyes widened at the same time. Their voices bounced off the tiled walls as they spoke as one: “Bangtan.”

“Do you know what this means?” Miles picked his jaw back up from where it’d dropped to the floor. Shifting to stand behind her, he grasped her small shoulders in his hands. “One of the members of Bantan is your soulmate .”

“This is crazy.” Eunjae breathed.

“Holy shit.” Miles paused in his movements before his eyes met hers. “Which one was it?”

“I don’t know, Miles.” Eunjae winced. The pain from the harsh bruising on her face was beginning to get to her. “Honestly, the whole thing passed by in a blur. I touched hands with all of them yesterday.”

“Well, who touched your face?”

Eyes closed in thought, Eunjae ran back through the memories of the day before. Her lips parted in sudden realization. “Oh.”

“Oh? Don’t leave me hanging here.” Miles shook her shoulders in excitement. “ Who was it ?”

“J-hope.”

“I’d hate you if I didn’t love you so much.” Miles sighed dramatically before bouncing on the balls of his feet. “This is incredible! Wow, I’m so jealous, you have no idea. You’re soulmates with J-fucking- hope .”

“How am I supposed to find him?” The words blurted from Eunjae’s mouth as panic slowly started to set in. “What if they were only here for that one night and now they’re gone? If I don’t find him again--”

“Whoa, whoa, relax.” Miles eased, hands rubbing soothing circles through the material of her borrowed shirt. “We’ll just check online to see if we can find a schedule or something. Besides, I doubt that they’d just up and leave once they see the marks on J-hope. That’d be stupid.”

Inhaling through her nose, Eunjae slowly nodded at his words of reassurance. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Exactly! I’m right.” He nodded vigorously, excited energy bouncing back. “I swear to God, you better introduce me. And if you don’t choose me to be the bridesmaid at your wedding, I might just have to disown you.”

At her lack of response, a frown pulled down the corners of his lips. “This is good news. So why do you look like that? You should be happy dancing with me.”

Shaking her head, Eunjae gripped the small bathroom counter with bruised fingers. “Do you know what this means, Miles?”

“Um, that you’ve won the soulmate lottery?”

“Miles!” She spun around, the corner of the counter digging painfully into her back. Eunjae stared up at him with panicked eyes. “We live in New York City.”

He tilted his head to the side at her words in confusion.

“They live in South Korea.”

“That’s-”

“I barely even speak Korean. They barely even speak English. They live in Seoul, South Korea.” The words poured from her mouth at a rapid fire pace, the reality of the situation starting to dawn on her.

Eunjae had spent practically her whole life in New York City. After the death of her parents at age twelve, she’d been sent to live with the only remaining blood relative they’d been able to get a hold of. Eunja’s grandmother on her mother’s side had been the only one that they’d gotten to take her in.

Eunjae could feel her chest tightening as her breath strained against her lungs. Mouth parting in panic, the room beginning to spin, walls pressing down against her. “South Korea. I can’t leave my grandmother, Miles. I’m all she has left. And what about school? The semester just started and--”

“Breathe, hunny.” Miles’ hands gripped the tops of her arms as he spoke calmly, guiding her face to his chest. “Count with me. One. Two. Three. Breathe in.”

Eyes closed against the dark spots entering her vision, Eunjae concentrated on the calming words murmured into the shell of her ear. Hands shaking, she ignored the pain in her bruised fingers and clutched at the oversized shirt of her best friend in an attempt to ground herself.

“There you go. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“No it won’t.” Eunjae’s small, shaking voice strained past her lips. “Do you really think they’d let one of their members relocate to the states by himself?”

The cotton shirt pressed against her face dampened from her panicked tears and a sob caught in her throat. “Everything I have is here. I don’t want to leave.”

Miles’ arms wrapped around her shaking frame and, for once, he had nothing to say. All he could do was hold her steady in the growing light of his small, cold bathroom.