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stxrvel · 1 year ago

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absence (1)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, fangirling a lot and some self-deprecation. no proofread. this is just silly writing, we're on the safe zone for now. a/n. hi guys! i was gonna wait a little bit but i'm really excited about this one so you're gonna have earlier! thank u all for the support and i really hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻

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You met them all at school. Each with their own ambitions, their different dreams, but so similar in the nature of their core. It was almost funny how everyone with their dissimilar personalities fit so strangely well into one school group. There were times when you could still remember how you used to tell them that all together they could rule the world.

Maybe that's why you didn't see them years ago.

Jeon Jungkook was an idol. There wasn't an hour in the day or a screen in the city where you weren't watching him. He was so popular around the world that you suspected that not even one person didn't know him. His voice was on every radio station, on every cell phone of the people you passed on the street and on the buses, his face on the TV sets with the last interview he had done, as if it were a national achievement. You even saw him in restaurants, chefs naming dishes after him, production companies releasing collaborations with his company. There wasn't an object in that city that didn't have Jungkook's face on its forehead. It was impossible to escape him.

He was closely followed by Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two of the most promising models of the last decade, a national pride hand in hand with Jungkook. You didn't see them as often as Jungkook, but they still swept the international public and there was hardly anyone who didn't talk about them. Invited to catwalks in Paris, choosing their contracts and collaborations, wearing the most expensive clothes that you wouldn't even think of buying, wearing beautiful matching jewelry, expensive enough that a single outfit from each of them could buy you five houses in the small town they all came from. Taehyung and Jimin were known as the Siamese twins of modeling. Wherever one went, the other always had to be. Their exclusivity was incomparable.

In levels of recognition, Min Yoongi followed them in line. A great rapper who was well received by the general populace. Yoongi had managed to captivate a large audience thanks to his incredible command of the production of his music and his ease and gift for writing his own lyrics. His growth was gradual, but when he touched the sky he never went down again. His popularity was not low even though his presentation to the public was not that high compared to the other three. Still, Yoongi had enough charisma and talent to stand out, especially when his fans were obsessed with highlighting the duality he had when he was on stage and when he did those seventy question interviews with Vogue or whatever… that had made him one of the best rappers of his generation and probably of the last century.

Kim Namjoon was the owner of the company that made Jungkook's debut and welcomed Yoongi with total creative freedom. If he were not solely focused on music, he would surely also be Taehyung and Jimin's agent. Namjoon had inherited a company from his parents, but the success he had turned it into over the past few years, into one of the most profitable businesses in the country, was entirely to his credit and effort. His popularity was also high, because everyone said he was too handsome to be a mere businessman; not knowing, of course, that everything involved in maintaining such a business required much more than a pretty face. Of Namjoon the public didn't know too much, not probably like the other guys and you, if he was still half the person he was before.

Hand in hand with Namjoon were Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. Hoseok was and still is to this day a national pride as he passionately played tennis since school and turned professional, reaching to participate in major international tournaments representing his country and winning one of them. However, two years after that great feat, an accident involving one of his hands prevented him from continuing to play. No one knows exactly what happened during the more than a year and a half that he almost completely disappeared from the public eye, but when he returned with his huge smile he announced that he would dedicate himself to dance, opening his own academy throughout the center of the city. Although he was not a recurrent teacher, his academy was one of the best in the country, and of course, it was financed by Namjoon's company. At one time Hoseok became Namjoon's associate.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was the one who kept the lowest profile. He was a great doctor, cardiovascular if you were not mistaken. In addition to being an amazing surgeon, his research projects were the ones everyone looked forward to the most at the end of each year. You didn't know much about the subject, but he was almost like the guru of medicine in his field specifically. The only reason he was so much in the public eye being a doctor was because he was regularly seen in the company of Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi. The four of them made up the holy grail of dilfs.

They had all had incredibly successful careers and you were glad that they had been able to accomplish everything they once talked about on the rooftop of Namjoon's house, with sneaky steps so their parents wouldn't scold them when they sneaked out in the wee hours of the morning.

You didn't know exactly what it was - or you didn't want to acknowledge it - that succumbed inside you every time you saw or heard about any of them on the news or on social media. Because yeah, no matter how low media exposure any of them had, always the faces of all seven appeared on your TikTok every week.

It was amazing how they had all moved on and you… well, you-

“Weren't you supossed to leave?”

You lifted your head from your phone, trying to hide it with trembling hands as you let Taehyung's face next to Jungkook's plunge into the darkness of your apron pocket.

“Huh?”

You tried to look distracted, returning your gaze between your boss and the notes next to the cash register. She had a soft gaze, between amused and sisterly. Her brown eyes shifted from your eyes and hot cheeks to the notes you held upside down in your hands, pretending to work as if she herself hadn't seen you completely frozen and gawking at the pair of the country's great casanovas.

“I thought you were leaving earlier today,” your boss shifted, settling her trench coat and long brown strap bag over her shoulder. At that moment she was leaving to walk around to each of the locations she had in town, just to do follow-ups. “Don't tell me you forgot.”

You followed her index finger until it landed on the red circle you had drawn on the calendar placed in your little cubicle a couple of weeks ago, with hearts surrounding it and exclamation points. Yes you remembered, of course you remembered, but at the point where you were at the time no one was going to miss you if you didn't attend.

“I didn't forget…” your voice trailed off as you looked down, your fingers finding the tips of the pages more entertaining than your boss's worried expression.

“y/n, you asked me to leave earlier this day from four months ago,” her high-pitched voice echoed in your head, reminding you how excited you had been a while ago for this day to come. “You can't just give up like that. Come on. You still have time.”

You began to shake your head, releasing your grip on the woman who was looking at you with the same worried eyes of a mother. Your boss had been one of the most encouraging people you'd ever had in your life, besides the handful of friends you had stored in your phone's contacts.

“It was a bust last time. I don't plan on going through that again.”

“But hadn't you told me afterwards that you weren't going to let that stop you? You said… what was it? I can't drown in this glass of water.”

You grudgingly resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Really you of four months ago was a deluded fool.

“I had no idea about life at the time.”

Your boss clicked her tongue, dropping her hands on your shoulders, giving little squeezes whose familiarity stole your breath.

“I'll leave Patrick waiting for you in case you change your mind.”

You shook your head, evading the memories. The man outside the store shook his head in greeting as the two of you turned to look at him, as if he knew you were talking about him.

“Don't miss this opportunity because you're afraid. It may change your life.”

You watched her leave, the clacking of her low heels drawing the attention of everyone in the store, earning every possible stare as she did every time she entered any room. Her chauffeur, Patrick, greeted her with a similar nod of his head as before and stood leaning against the black car parked right where he could get a perfect view of your nervous face.

You, unlike the great and successful lives of your high school friends whose company you still used to miss like a fool, had not had such a great and successful life.

You were a writer. Well, an attempted writer and, worse, part-time. The other part-time was this job behind the cash register at the largest pastry chain in the country. Or sometimes as a waitress, it depended on the day. There was good pay, mind you, at least it allowed you to make up for the losses you took every time you tried to sell a book and then had to market it on your own, only to have five purchases once every seven months and three of them were from your parents and brother. The other two were from your friends.

Four months ago you had been invited to a sort of convention for readers, how they had found you and why? You had no idea, but the idea of being considered in that way drove you crazy at the time. You were so excited that you had more copies of your failed books printed and prepared your booth several days in advance to present them to the horde of people who, you were sure at the time, would come to meet you.

Only one person came by to ask you about the bathroom.

You never recovered from that.

Even with all that failure, that same day you were invited to another convention and, for a while, you were excited to attend. Everyone goes through those kinds of bumps at some point in their life, right? You have to work hard to earn that kind of fame, you kept telling yourself. But as time went on and your networks didn't grow and your videos didn't get more than ten views, or fifty views at most in a week, you began to lose that spark of excitement you held for your dream. Your parents had never turned your back on what you wanted to do, but it was too demotivating and discouraging to have spent so many years at it, so many headaches and tears invested for you to just keep losing and losing money.

That was why you were sure you wouldn't go to that convention if you had to go through that mockery again. You hadn't even bothered to go and fix your booth so surely they already knew you weren't going.

“Have you seen them yet??????”

The female voice coming from the wine cellar made you jump up on your chair.

“Jesus, Yuna, you almost killed me here.”

“I don't care! We could die right now for all we care!”

“Wow, speak for yourself.”

“Haven't you seen theeeem?”

Yuna held up her phone, the screen at full brightness blinding you for a moment. The blurry dots you saw from the proximity of the device told you nothing, as your friend jumped excitedly beside you.

“God, hold still.”

Grabbing her wrist, you leveled the phone to see her TikTok and a picture of three men.

Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook coming out of a building. From Namjoon's building.

“They look amazing, don't they? They just came out! That means their car will pass in front of us any minute!”

Yes, Namjoon's building was just a few blocks away from your boss's place. In fact, your boss knew him and many times they would prepare large orders for parties at his company. You had never seen him set foot in this place or any other in the country, but every time he went to celebrate something he had to dial your boss's personal number and you would work until your backs burned because everything had to be perfect for the big businessman.

“Are you going out to greet them or what?” you frowned, letting go of her wrist and returning your gaze to the notebook next to the cash register.

Yuna let out an excited exclamation.

“Ohhhh~, should I? Should I?”

You grabbed her by the collar of her uniform as she tried to pass behind you.

“We're still on business hours.”

“I'm sure Sol wouldn't mind,” her almost heart pupil eyes stared down the street, her hands moving in front of her like she was a zombie. She almost seemed possessed by her fanaticism. Though of course you didn't blame her, if you didn't know any of the seven knights of the underworld you would surely be as excited as she was.

“Don't put words in her mouth. You'd better tell me if the lady's batch of cakes is out yet-”

Commotion erupted throughout the room. You almost saw in slow motion how all the people in the premises got up and running in the direction of the glass doors when you heard the screams coming from far away.

“They're comiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!”

Sometimes you wondered how they dealt with this level of fanaticism.

The ground almost shook with the amount of people running after a black car, where the three men who were causing such a furor so early that day were most likely to be, and the commotion was not tiny inside the venue where the screams erupted.

Having to deal with that on a daily basis would easily turn someone into a hater. Not that you were one... strictly...

“God, for a moment we breathed the same air,” Yuna plopped down on the table, her body doubled over with her eyes lost. You resisted the urge to smack her forehead.

“Their car windows were up.”

“So you saw them, right?????”

“Argh.”

You had to drag her back to work as the excitement in the store dissipated. You attended to another batch of consumers while Yuna fixed the display case and, in a moment of lapse you could almost tell, her back suddenly straightened and she turned to look at you with her eyes a little too wide. You passed the change to the man in front of you, who barely sent you a confused glance before continuing to claim his order at the other corner of the store.

“What's wrong with you?”

“You shouldn't be here.”

“Don't say that with that face. You look creepy,” you pulled out the bill to tuck it under the cash register as Yuna approached, leaving the frightened face behind.

“Wasn't that convention today?”

You sighed. “Yes.”

“Then why aren't you there?”

“Do I look like I want to be there?”

“Y/n! It's a great opportunity. You should-”

“A great opportunity for what, to be a laughingstock again?”

Yuna pursed her lips, looking almost pained that you would remember in that way the experience that was supposed to change your life. She had been one of the ones who had accompanied you to set up the booth and she was sure she had never seen you smile so much during all the time the two of you had known each other. Yuna was aware of how over time you seemed to have lost interest in this new convention, but she didn't think you would finally decide not to go.

On the sly, she had prepared your booth with the help of your mother and Sol, your boss.

“You were never a laughingstock! Don't say that,” Yuna patted your forearm harder than necessary. “Besides, I recently logged some purchases on the site! How do you-?”

“I know it was you and mom,” you raised your voice to interrupt her, stepping archly away from her body.

“What the… Of course not, ha, ha!”

“You're the only fools who would write down celebrity names to register purchases. Besides, the addresses don't even exist.”

“Fuck, I told her that wouldn't work.”

Under your heavy gaze, Yuna had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Okay, I'm sorry! We wanted to motivate you to go to the convention.”

“Can't you just let me do my own thing? If I don't want to go, I won't go.”

“Even if you leave Patrick waiting there?”

You followed his gaze, watching the man pull an umbrella out of the trunk of the car as the slightest breeze brushed against his body and the water droplets were smaller than a dew that the two of you had to squint to see them on the glass of the entrance.

“Whatever it is, I'm not going.”

“y/n…” Yuna pleaded, coming closer with her puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“y/n, please…”

“No and stop doing that. You look weird.”

“I don't,” Yuna pulled away to frown at you. “I once heard you agreed with Seoyeon about my puppy face being cute.”

“I never agreed with that!”

“Seojun told me so!”

“Your first mistake is believing Seojun.”

“Do you blame me if the reason is your demonstration of love for me?”

“That was your second mistake.”

“Y/n!”

_____________________

That day you arrived home a little later than usual. Since Patrick had been waiting for you all day in the sun and mini rain and refused to let you take a cab on direct instructions from Sol, you asked him to take a ride downtown so you could buy the teokkboki your mom loved and incidentally bought some for him, even though he didn't want to accept it at first.

“y/n, dear, how did it go?”

Your parents were in the living room when you arrived playing Go. Your father left the table when he saw you carrying the bag of food and came over to take it from you.

“What does our little writer bring here, a contract by any chance?”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as your mother tried to get your father's attention by wildly waving her fan, while the man rummaged through the bag to find something warm and delicious smelling.

“Oh, it's teokkboki.”

Your mother stopped waving her arm to stare at the bag with sparkling eyes.

“The ones from the center? From Mrs. Wang?”

You nodded in her direction, taking a seat in their midst on the floor. Your parents started a pitched battle to see who would break the bag first to try the first batch of teokkboki and you could only watch them with a smile on your face. The day may have been difficult, but being home at the end of the day always made you feel so much better.

Amidst laughter and anecdotes, trying to avoid the elephant in the room because you knew your mother's furtive glances weren't for nothing, the three of you ate teokkboki until you were bursting at the seams. You organized the kitchen with your father while your mother grumbled from the living room whatever he said about her. You watched the three of you favorite soap opera on the fixed schedule and finally got ready for bed.

With your body more relaxed and lighter, you let yourself sink into the softness of the sheets, completely ignoring the messages Yuna had sent earlier and the stupid questions your brother asked at the most inopportune moments.

How do I unclog a bath?

Do I add salt to the rice???

Where do I get the kimchi mom makes?????

His independence was probably one of the worst things that could happen. You being the older sister thought you would leave home first. Even according to your twelve year old diary, you should have been married by then or at least planning your amazing, mega giant wedding, complete with helicopters and puppy dogs carrying drinks through the reception. You didn't know what kind of crazy dreams you had when you were younger, but up to that point you hadn't been able to fulfill any of your inner child's desires except to study for a career you were passionate about.

Still, what good had that done in the end? Maybe you should've listened to your grandparents to study medicine. Maybe your parents should've been a little more conservative instead of libertarian, which your grandparents always complained about when they had the chance. If you were a disgrace to anyone in the family, it was to them.

Ah, what a long day.

You didn't know at what point you fell asleep, but the incessant sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow woke you up. With a grunt, you moved your hands to put the device in front of one of your half-open eyes to find Yuna on caller ID. Your eyes moved upward.

It was one in the morning!

“What the fuck are you doing calling at this hour? It better be an emergency because-”

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING THAT YOU DON'T CHECK YOUR MESSAGES?”

“WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? IT'S ONE IN THE MORNING! WHY WOULD I BE DOING ANYTHING ELSE BUT SLEEPING?”

“I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU FOR A WHILE NOW, Y/N!”

“YUNA HOW CAN I NOT FUCKING SLEEP-?”

“Well, whatever!”

You let out an exasperated snort, giving her time to say what she had to say.

“You're going to fall on your ass.”

“I'm lying down.”

“Your books have sold a thousand copies in the last hour!”

Silence. Absorbing silence…

“Yuna, if you really woke me up to play a fucking prank on me I'm going all the way to your house to pull out every single one of your hairs with a fucking tweezer.”

“First of all, gross. Second of all, I'm not kidding! Get on your fucking Instagram! What's worse is that's not the most shocking news. Well… depends on how you look at it.”

“Yuna, I don't think I'm following you.”

“Fucking Kim Taehyung was at the reader convention and he took a picture of your books and UPLOADED IT TO HIS INSTAGRAM STORIES!!!!! AN HOUR AGO! The damn shopping notifications woke me up and I think I took too much time trying to process what was going on because they already tripled!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, did you start smoking weed?”

“Ugh, why are you so insufferable? Just look at fucking Instagram!”

You didn't want to believe Yuna, but a part of you was vibrating in anticipation. You'd already seen her text messages, her exclamations and voice notes, you'd barely processed the images she'd sent you. You logged on to Instagram. The first thing you noticed was the exorbitant amount of notifications and direct messages.

You had to search for Taehyung's account because you weren't following him.

There was the colorful arc around his profile picture. The story.

You clicked on his picture on the screen.

Your books were all over his story, with his hand holding one of them.

It jumped out at you that there was a stand of your books that you had no idea where it had come from.

A description loomed between the image.

One of the best fantasy books I've read in recent years. And by one of the best writers I've ever met in my life.

Your user was next to the description. You had no idea how fucking Kim Taehyung had gotten your user when it wasn't even something related to your name. You hadn't even uploaded pictures of yourself once in all the time that account had been open.

“Did you see it?? Can you see I wasn't lying?”

With Yuna's malevolent laughter in the background, you felt your mind escape into an unknown mental space.

“You're going to be rich!!! And I'm going to meet Kim Taehyung!”

Your mind was racing a thousand miles an hour trying to make sense of what your eyes couldn't credit. His story was replaying on your screen. So many things you could say and just…

“What the fuck?”

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7

#bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #kim taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #hobi x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #series: i can fix them

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winterarchives · 23 days ago

Text

Blood, Sweat and Tears part lll

Soulmate AU pairing - OT7 x reader , BTS x reader word count - 16.7k+ summary - A night with Yoongi leads to fallout. warnings - cussing , smut (early as hell bc I was like YOUNG 20s and a mess) , MDNI , early writing (literal years ago) pls go gentle on me part l - part ll

You didn’t have to check your phone or social media to know that the internet would be in shambles from the reveal the boys had just pulled off. The performers in question had seemingly figured as much, too, leaving their ringers on silent, and their phones in a messy pile inside one of Hoseok’s many specially designed Gucci backpacks.

Yoongi has long since vacated the comfortable warmth and makeshift bed of your thighs, now focused on packing all of his performance gear along with the rest of your soulmates. Jungkook seemed to have an especially difficult time trying to shove his massive water bottle in with his other belongings.

“I can carry it for you, Jungkook.” You offer, walking over to the Golden Maknae and securing the object he’d been growing frustrated with in your grasp.

“Are you sure? I can just have an assistant grab it.” He rubs the back of his neck, clearly not wanting to inconvenience you.

“Nonsense,” you tell him, squeezing his shoulder. “I’m headed to your guys’ place anyway. It won’t be a bother at all.”

His cheeks flush, eyes bright and wide. You realize exactly why people compared him to a rabbit. He was precious, ebony curls slightly blocking you from seeing his full cheeks and doe eyes. “Thank you,” he smiles.

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, squeezing him flush against you. “You’re my soulmate, after all.” You reassure him, shocked by your outburst of transparency with the newfound connection between all of you. “Plus, you guys gave me the opportunity of a lifetime tonight... It’s the least I can do to repay the favor.”

Jungkook chuckles at your kindness, releasing you from his hold so he can glimpse at your face that he’s absolutely in awe of. You are ridiculously beautiful, and he and the others had already worried about not being able to convey the emotions they felt for you to their fullest. Jungkook knows, just as they all do, that you have them wrapped around your pinky finger. You wanted something? Consider it yours. You had to go somewhere? They’d make sure you got there safely without pause. You needed something done? It’s done.

You completed their souls. Their very beings, as they hopefully had yours.

“You two almost ready?” Jin calls from the door of the rec room, smiling at the proximity he’d caught you and Jungkook in. He’d snapped a picture of the two of you after he’d nabbed his cell from Hoseok’s bag, already having sent it to the group chat.

“Yeah!” Jungkook calls, gripping your hand into his warm one, “Dibs on sitting next to YN in the car!”

There are several groans of displeasure, but Jungkook remains smiling to himself, happy that he’d scored the seating arrangement before his hyungs did. He can vaguely hear the commotion that’s erupting from the rec room, assumedly for the seat on the other side of you. If you were okay sitting in the middle, that is.

His warm grip on yours has you blushing the entire walk to the parking garage, his hold not so much as loosening when he presses the garage level button in the elevator. You lean your head against his taller frame, just barely brushing past his muscular shoulder, the exhaustion from the eventful evening finally catching up to you. He’s sturdy, sturdy enough that you pretty much allow him to keep you standing while the elevator makes its lengthy descent.

“You tired?” He asks, resting one of his full cheeks atop your forehead.

“Mmm,” you hum back, nuzzling further into his arm. “You’re warm,” you tell him.

“Thank you?” He giggles at your strange compliment, nuzzling you with his nose. “You’re adorable when you’re tired.”

You feign shock, shifting yourself so that you’re standing directly in front of him, your mouth open in an ‘o.’

“Jeon Jungkook! Are you hitting on me?” You tease him, raising your eyebrows.

He flushes deeply, eyes slightly darkening at your teasing, and you subconsciously feel your stomach flipping, and a familiar heat in the lower part of your abdomen building.

“Maybe,” Jungkook smiles, his face inching closer to yours. “What are you going to do about it?”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to maintain your cool, despite the firetruck red complexion you were sure your cheeks had on full display.

“Are you challenging me to make a move?” You quip, desire bubbling within you.

He puckers his lips in question, looking at the elevator ceiling. “Maybe.” He chimes, biting his inner cheek.

You worry at your bottom lip in turn, trying desperately to affect him as much as he’s affecting you. He readjusts his stance, taking a deep breath and trying to harden any resolve he can muster. But you’re a damn good fighter, and he knows without a doubt that he’s fighting a losing battle.

He blinks slowly behind the black tendrils of hair that hang over the arch of his eyebrows, and into his line of sight, feeling his breathing hitch as your face comes closer into view. You watch the lids flutter closed, irises the color of melted chocolate disappearing behind thick eyelashes and lightly shaded eyelids. You can tell he’s shocked by your lips when they land on the bulb of his nose, and then the buds of his cheeks, the offended skin you touch turning a rosy color. His eyes slowly opened, finding you’ve returned to standing beside him in the small space, somehow managing to look both unbothered and completely buzzing.

“That was an act of war,” he tells you, reclaiming your hand and pulling you lightly against his side once more.

“You fired the first shot, Mr. What Are You Going to do About it?” You fire back, peeking at him to watch his smile appear.

“Consider yourself warned, Noona.” He replies, squeezing your hand tightly in his own.

“Message relayed,” you smile, stepping with him out of the elevator and towards the few men already waiting for you at the vehicle.

You weren’t familiar with this driver, but he seemed kind enough. Hoseok and Jimin help you into the SUV while Jungkook shoves his bag into the trunk.

“Can I braid your hair during the drive?” Hoseok asks you, taking his seat directly behind you.

“Yah! I want to braid your hair, too.” Jimin smiles, taking the seat next to you.

You giggle at their request, but allow it all the same. Your hair had practically been screaming at you to let it down throughout the concert. At least now you have reason to listen.

Jimin and J-Hope are ridiculously competitive, you note. They compare and contrast their braiding skills while you and Jungkook sit in comfortable silence, listening to their silly bickering.

“Mine is more tightly bound!” Hoseok whines, “Yours isn’t even staying in place.”

“Yes, it is!” Jimin argues, tightening the hairband once more for good measure.

You laugh, hardly able to contain the giddiness that they have you feeling. Jimin pouts at you, collapsing onto your lap.

“Tell Hobi that my braid is perfectly fine,” Jimin whines into your pants, lips shifting the fabric ever so slightly.

“It’s a great braid, Jimin.” You tell him, sticking your tongue out at the older member in the back seat.

“Hey! He said mine was loose.” Hoseok complains, crossing his arms over his chest.

“They’re both amazing.” You tell them, “Aren’t they, Kook?” You ask the man who’d remained silent at your side.

“They are!” Jungkook cheers, enthusiasm ringing clear as day in his tone. “Ah, here they come!” He chirps, pointing towards the elevator doors across from the parking lot.

Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Taehyung all step out, carrying their things and laughing at Namjoon, who appears to be blushing.

“You will never believe what Joon just did,” Yoongi laughs, climbing into the passenger seat.

“Oh no,” J-Hope chuckles, “what happened this time?”

“Not only did our lovely Joon-ah just send us to the wrong floor three separate times, but he also told the stadium owner, ‘love you,’ after the owner said ‘have a good night’.”

Namjoon cowers into his hoodie in the backseat, small chuckles escaping his lips. “It seemed appropriate at the time.”

“How?” Hoseok chuckles.

“One time I karate chopped my aunt’s arm because I thought she called me a brat, but she just asked where I saw her cat.” You shrug.

“You… karate chopped your aunt?” Jin asks, voice heavy. “Am I hearing that right?”

“Yep.” You reply dryly, “She was awful, though. Always yelled at me and other kids, expecting us to help her with lawn work, even though she gave us no reason to want to help. I got her good. My cousins also put soap on her toilet seat once so she’d fall.”

It’s quiet for a bit, and then everyone in the car, save for the driver, loses it.

“I can’t believe you went Jackie Chan on your aunt…” Namjoon wheezes, his earlier embarrassment long forgotten.

“Yeah, I was a weird kid.” You reply. “Haven’t even told you guys the half of it yet.”

“There’s more?” Jimin asks between wheezes, hand secured on your knee, as if you’re keeping him tethered to the present.

“Yeah,” you scoff. “I was a hell-spawn. Probably part of the reason my parents made me get counseling. They probably thought I was possessed.”

That sends Taehyung into literal guffaws of laughter, tears leaking from his eyes. Jin damn near mirrors him, windshield wiper cackle leaving everyone else following behind them.

“You have to tell us more about your childhood,” Yoongi begs once the laughter has finally receded long enough for sentences to be formed.

“Hey, you guys have got to share some stuff with me, too!” You tell him, matching his glance when he turns to look at you. “I don’t know that much about any of you. Aside from a few interviews I’ve seen.”

“You weren’t ARMY?” Hoseok asks from behind you, his seat and seat belt shared with Namjoon.. Hoseok is back to playing with your hair; his hands are gentle on your scalp, the assuredness of them mixing with the softness of their touch and leaving you to feel as though you were in a state of bliss.

“I listened to Wings when it came out, but some family stuff happened while I was in high school, and I didn’t want to listen to music all that much after that. I just recently started getting back into all of it.” You answer him.

“I’m sorry you went through a rough time,” Jin tells you from his seat next to Hoseok. “You don’t have to tell us anything right now, or even in the future, but if you ever want to, we’re here. It’s important to us that you know that.”

You aren’t ready to tell them about your father and the resounding aftershock his passing had on your family, but you do know that at some point, you will want to share your life story in its entirety with them.

“Thank you, Jin.” You tell him, “I appreciate that.”

He sends you a gentle smile that melts your soul and tugs at your heartstrings.

“We will always be here for you.” Taehyung smiles, sitting on the opposite side of Namjoon, eyes sparkling.

You feel tears threatening to spill, but you don’t let them, taking a deep breath and instead focusing on playing with Jimin’s hair; his head still rested on your lap. You were going to turn into their human pillow. Not that you were complaining.

“So, how did you guys feel revealing your marks?” You ask, curiosity genuinely piqued. You were expecting them to broadcast them at some point, but their performance still played on repeat in your mind, their left arms extended, and the deep breaths of relief they sighed as the marks came into view of the fans surrounding them.

“I felt free,” Jimin whispers, voice full of emotion and wonder. “I didn’t know how much of a weight it was on my shoulders until I heard everyone screaming. And when we turned around for ‘Magic Shop,’ oh…. It was as if nothing else mattered. There were so many smiles, so many people supporting us, still cheering us on. And there you were,” he continues, voice wistful and swollen with affection, “I saw you sitting in your seat, crying for us. I wanted nothing more than to come to you,” he tells you, turning his head slightly so he can look up into your eyes. The car remains remarkably silent, the members letting Jimin paint his beautiful version of events for you. “I wanted to hold you in my arms and tell you how much you’ve helped us just in the past few days...

“Of course, I couldn’t jump off the stage for you.” Jimin laughs, pinching your cheek, wiping away a few stray tears you hadn’t noticed had escaped. “You looked beautiful. So shocked and emotional for us.”

“He’s right,” Jin adds. “We could all see you, clear as day. It’s almost as if you were all we could see.” He smiles, “You kept us going, up there. We were a nervous wreck before the show, but Jungkook told us to find you in the crowd and focus on you; that maybe it’d help. It did… So thanks for that, Kookie.”

Jungkook blushes next to you, turning into his endearing and nervous self. You grip his hand in your spare one that isn’t still running affectionately through Jimin’s slight curls. You squeeze his hand, trying so desperately to convey the rush of emotions Jin’s admission had left you feeling. Jungkook’s squeeze echoes your own, and you know he understands, especially when you see the tears fall from his eyes.

“You guys are amazing.” You choke out, laughing at the heavy emotion and near-sob in your voice. “Ah, I hate crying.” You mumble, “It makes me feel so silly.”

“Don’t feel silly.” Tae chimes, hand rubbing reassuring circles on your shoulders. “We all cry. Even Jin!”

“Yah!” Jin shouts, chastising the middle member of the maknae line, but he lets his anger dissipate when he sees the smile bloom across your face, heart swelling.

“We adore you,” Jimin smiles, pulling your hand from his hair and to his lips, resting the full pout against your wrist, kissing the sensitive skin and sending butterflies fluttering in your ribcage.

“I adore you guys, too.” You smile, warmth spreading across your cheeks.

The rest of the car ride is spent in a comfortable and relaxed silence, save for the soft snores Namjoon lets out from his spot in the backseat; his head nuzzled into the crook of Hoseok’s shoulder.

He takes a bit to wake up once you’re in the parking garage of what you assume to be their hotel. It’s separated from the general public, the few cars scattered throughout its level housing the Big Hit logo on their doors.

“We’re here?” Namjoon yawns, stretching his lanky legs in the small space he’s confined to in the back of the SUV.

“Mm,” Jin tells him, stretching his arms above his head.

“Overwatch! Overwatch! Overwatch!” Taehyung chants, only getting louder once Jungkook joins in. Jungkook hops out of the car first, helping you and Jimin step out behind him. Yoongi takes a minute, putting his face mask over the bottom half of his tired face.

Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Tae are a literal mess of limbs as they pile out of the back seats, hair in various states of disarray.

“It’s the young ones' turn to carry the luggage up,” Jin smiles, sending the younger members warning glares when they start to object. “No, no, no,” he chastises, “you guys said you would if we let you eat the last of the mochi.”

Tae and Jimin are still pouting by the time you reach their suite, clearly not amused by Jin’s apparent selective memory.

“You never remember when you’re supposed to help with the luggage,” Jimin complains, setting his portion of the bags in the entryway.

“I don’t need to remember when it inconveniences me,” Jin smiles, booping Tae on the nose before he settles into a large sofa in the middle of what you assume can only be the shared living room. “Come sit with me, noona.” He holds his arms out, like a child would, and pouts, “I’m cold.”

You roll your eyes at his behavior, but curl up to his side nonetheless, thankful for his warmth.

“You’re not going to play with us, hyung?” Jungkook asks, returning from one of many hallways within the suite, with a small flatscreen television in his hands.

Taehyung echoes Jungkook’s actions, emerging from an opposite hallway. “Jin isn’t playing with us?”

“Ah, I never said that.” Jin tells them, “Grab me a controller, and set up the game, I’ll use Yoongi’s account.”

“Don’t mess with my shit,” Yoongi warns the eldest member, relieving himself of his coat.

Jungkook acquiesces quickly enough, plugging in the various PS4s that he’s miraculously pulled out of a huge duffle bag sitting in the middle of the vast room.

Your attention is pulled from his deftly working fingers as Yoongi sits next to you, Hoseok and Namjoon sitting opposite you and Jin on the couch.

“You wanna nap on me again?” You tease him, patting your hip that’s not leaning into Jin’s side.

“If you insist,” Yoongi smiles, pulling a knit blanket off the back of the couch and snuggling into you without pause. “You’re just so comfy.” He cooes, nuzzling into you.

You bump your hip against him, relishing in the feeling of his warmth on one side of you, and Jin’s warmth on the other. You’re damn near melting when Jimin settles himself between your feet on the floor in front of you, eating a bowl of ramen he’d brought from the kitchen.

“Who are you going to play as tonight, Kookie?” Tae asks from his corner of the room.

“Mmmm, probably Widowmaker.” He decides, “What about you?”

“D.Va, you know she’s my main,” Tae tells his soulmate, selecting the character on his screen.

“Invite me,” Jin says, careful not to move you and Yoongi while he uses the controller Jungkook had brought him. The notification pops up on the main television screen, and Jin clicks ‘accept,’ entering the lobby.

“Whose username is ‘Seagull?” You whisper to Yoongi, eyeing the television screen.

“That’d be Kookie,” Yoongi mumbles into your side.

“Nice,” you giggle. “Username ‘Yoongi,’ pretty straight to the point.”

“Do you know how many friend requests I get per day?” Yoongi peeks up at you through his thick eyelashes, “Too many.”

“You’re a hot commodity,” you tell him, patting his head.

“So are you,” he winks. You can swear that for a moment, you forget how to breathe. “Do you wanna see something?” He asks, eyes mischievous. You’re aware of the lusty innuendo beyond his words, and that only excites you more.

The rest of the guys are too focused on the match that Jin and the two younger members are in, choruses of cheering echoing throughout the room, to pay the two of you any attention anyway.

“Mmm, sure.” You smile. “I’ll be right back,” you tell Jin, doing your best not to nudge him or his controller as you slip out of your spot against his side. He mumbles an okay, far too entranced in his game to wonder where you and Yoongi might be off to.

Yoongi holds out his hand, leading you out of the shared space and down a hallway to the left of the kitchen. The lights are off, save for the light glow that manages to find its way from the living room to the hall. Yoongi seems unbothered, leading you where he wants to go without tripping over his feet.

“Here,” he says, pushing open a door.

You assume that it’s his bedroom, judging by the few black hoodies that are strewn across the bed, and the easily mobile keyboard that sits at the foot of it. The room looks to be constructed around the terrace outside of it, with large glass double doors giving easy access to the large area. It’s pretty jaw-dropping, if you were being honest. But none of it compared to the man who stood before you, or any of the men in the living room. But Yoongi was a mere foot in front of you now, and he pretty much demanded your attention, pulling it from you and onto him like a blackhole.

Yoongi only mirrors your gaze, staring into your eyes with unwavering devotion, and maybe a tad bit of apprehension. As if the slightest move from him would send you shooting for the hills without a backward glance.

His hair is disheveled, falling against the planes of his face in a way that would make even the best architecture curl in on itself in shame. His eyes are warm, but clouded with compassion, radiating unspoken intent and unshed emotion that made you feel bare before him. His oversized crewneck sweater engulfs his toned frame, grey sweats probably lamely gripping the hips beneath them.

“You’re beautiful…” You breathe out, surprised at the slip of words.

He furrows his brows, probably just as taken aback by your admission as you were yourself. He doesn’t mock you, though. Despite his puckered brow suggesting his confusion, he seems to be moved by your words; a rosy blush painted across his full cheeks, gummy smile warming your heart.

“I’m beautiful?” He asks, voice matching the breathy tone yours had seconds prior.

“Very.” You answer him, not missing a beat.

That seems to harden his resolve, the slight apprehension you’d sensed before melting away like a single marshmallow in a cup of hot chocolate. He steps forward, deft and articulate hands enclosing your face within them. Pads of his thumbs running along your cheeks as he gazes into your eyes.

“Yoongi,” you plead, placing your hands on his.

He understands the wordless agreement hanging in the air like apples ready to be pulled from their branches. He wets his bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue, leaning in to press his lips ever so slightly against your own. The feeling nearly knocks you backwards, electricity coursing through your veins and lighting you up from the inside, out; warming your soul that’s reaching out so desperately for the piece of it that’s surely echoing its actions within Min Yoongi.

Your hands drop, instead finding purchase on Yoongi’s sweater, kissing him back sans delay, pulling him tighter against you as you breathe into the kiss, deepening it without even realizing what you were doing. He groans against your lips, minty breath filling your senses. You moan at the sensation, lips parting. His tongue, sweet, warm, and ever euphoric, slides into your mouth; the insistent forcefulness of it all melding with the sweet taste. The heady euphoria. The warmth that was always surely going to be Min Yoongi.

The giddiness of it all, the absolute overwhelmingly pleasant ecstasy has your head spinning, thoughts running a million miles a minute with ‘how did you not find them sooner,’ and ‘they were here, always.’ Rapturous buzzing within your soul, mixed with the exhilaration of his lips on yours, has you intoxicated; the profound emotion threatening to spin you round and round until you couldn’t tell which direction was up and which was down.

Somewhere, below the uproarious onslaught of emotions, your heart was hammering against your chest, threatening to burst from the desperation in your kiss. You only part from Yoongi long enough for him to remove his sweater, and for him to peel Jin’s sweatshirt from your upper half, expanse of black lace coming into view with each inch of the hoodie that he pulls from your chest.

The white T-shirt he has on is heavenly, slightly tucked into the sweats that hang off the juncture of his hips. He looks to you, lips swollen from the intensity of your kiss, eyes alight with the desire he held for you. You smile gently at him, understanding wholeheartedly the penchant for you he felt. Just looking at him, breathless, swollen-lipped, lust-blown, and staring at you in wonder had you clenching your core around nothing.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear. But you do, oh, you do.

You bite at the swell of your lower lip, reveling in the taste of Yoongi that lingered there. His gaze is hot on you, unwavering and leaving your nerves humming in delight. He watches, unblinking, hands itching to reach out and just feel you, as you unhook the clasp on the back of your jumper.

The slip beneath the lace, a sheer white color, just covers your torso, the skin-tight silk cool against your ever-rising temperature. Yoongi pivots, makes to move closer to you, the desperation to touch you almost unbearable. You can practically taste the torture he’s putting himself through when he doesn’t budge. Dropping your small hands from the silk, you step forward, within his reach.

“Take it off of me,” you whisper to him, forehead only inches away from his.

His eyes flicker from the tight fabric on your breasts to the heated gaze you watch him with. You’re ready to repeat yourself, fearing maybe he hadn’t heard you, when his hands grip either hip, holding you flush against him. His lips find yours once more, his kiss scorching you to smithereens; his slight moans resonating deep within your body.

Each frantic kiss, each article of clothing tossed carelessly to the dark ochre of the wooden floor below you, was like a Pandora’s box effect. The deepest parts of your soul and body are glowing and begging to be matched in their vigor by the man currently tethering you to him.

Only when you feel the cool air of the room nip at the most tender parts of your body do you break away from each other, finally seeing each other. Min Yoongi shone under the moonlight, his tanned skin nearly translucent under the luminosity of the celestial body that shined through the glass expanse of the patio window and into his bedroom.

To say he was beautiful would be a disservice to his person. To say ethereal would do him no justice either. You were simply left gaping at the captivating man ahead of you, bewitched by the glamour that settled over him in a haze.

His hand reaches out, moonlit skin grasping onto your own, pulling you with him to the bed that waits below. His chest is sturdy enough for you to brace yourself against him with your hands, holding yourself suspended in the heavy air above him so that you can marvel at him below you, naked and waiting.

“Are you sure?” He asks you, disappointment nowhere in his tone; only worry. Worry that you were making a mistake. That somehow you’d regret being with him intimately.

You silence him with an unrestrained kiss, tongue mapping out the layout of his open mouth, tasting him in his totality. Feeling the flutter of his heart below your opened palm that’s still splayed atop his chest, feeling the break of his breathing when you use your free hand to grip the heavy weight of him in your hand, and pump him languidly in your hand, before you finally lead him towards the threshold of your waiting sex.

"One sec," he mumbles against your mouth, reaching over towards his end table and pulling out a wrapper from the top drawer. "Safety first or whatever shit you Americans say," he tuts.

You laugh, pulling him back into another bruising kiss before lining him up with you again.

He doesn’t thrust into you; he simply waits, letting you take the lead and lower yourself onto him at your own pace. You moan out, feeling the familiar fullness that you’d been missing so much lately, feeling the brush of the head of his cock rubbing against the tenderest crux of you.

“Yoongi,” you breathe out, pulling him up to meet you in a heated kiss, moaning out when the movement angles him deeper inside of you.

He nips at your lower lip, using his eager hands to pull you closer against him, as if pulling you any closer and molding you together would make you one person.

“Please, Yoongi,” you plead, clenching around him, “I need you.”

He nods, understanding the corporeal need you held for him. “I know, noona,” he cooes, angling his hips ever so slightly before he pistons himself forward, crying out at the stupefying feeling of you tightening and moving around him.

And he doesn’t stop, the snapping of his hips a mantra that he’s more than bent on continuing, especially when he hears your English curses slipping through your parted lips, brows puckered from the delicious pleasure that courses through the two of you as if you were one.

“YN,” he moans, movements becoming more panicked, love bites being pressed against the swell of your breasts, to the ridge of your collarbone. “Baby girl,” he coos, “I don’t know how much longer I can last…”

You know damn well that you’re close to the apex of your pleasure, each thrust he sends rubbing your clit against his pelvis; the heat in your abdomen growing and growing until you’re nearly bursting into flames from it.

“I know,” you tell him, tightening your grip on his hair and meeting his wondrous gaze that he’s watching you with; the sight of you naked above him and riding his cock nearly driving him wild. “‘M close,” you groan.

“Come for me, YN,” he tells you, twisting an aching nipple in his hopeful fingers, “Wanna see you come, Baby girl.”

You feel as though his wish is your command, his rushed words and the slight ministrations of his expert fingers sending you off the edge and into the awaiting abyss. Your hips stutter against his, your cry of pleasure probably alerting the men in the living room to your activities.

That only makes it more pleasurable, knowing that they’d more than likely heard the pants of Yoongi’s name and the orgasm that had you moaning expletives towards the ceiling of his bedroom.

“Fuck,” Yoongi moans, spilling himself hot and heavy into your eager cunt, feeling your walls slicken up with his excitement.

The post-coital high seems to last forever, the two of you collapsed into each other, breathing in pants, and holding each other close.

He breathes, pulling you closer to him. “How are you feeling?” He asks, absentmindedly tracing shapes on your back.

“Happy…” You smile against his skin, “What about you?” You peer up at him through a mess of your hair, smirking at the gummy smile he wears as he looks up at his ceiling.

“Amazing.” He replies honestly, “Better than that. I don’t know how to describe it. Did you feel it, too? The connection?”

“I did.” You smile, kissing him lightly on the lips. “It was amazing. You’re right.”

He chuckles, adoration tickling his nerves. A knock on the bedroom door knocks the two of you out of your sex-filled reveries.

“Hey, you guys alive in there?” Comes Tae’s voice. “I miss YN.”

“So do I!” Jimin whines. If you listen closely enough, you can hear 4 additional murmurs of agreement.

Yoongi looks at you, shrugging his okay with it. “S’up to you,” he tells you.

You’re not at all shocked when you throb at the prospect of the rest of your soulmates seeing you completely sexed out with Yoongi at your side.

“Come on in,” you answer, shrugging into one of the hoodies on Yoongi’s bed.

The door opens, and Jin steps in, eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he sees you on the bed. “Holy-” he starts.

“Well shit,” Namjoon finishes for him, looking at you, the rest of the members mimicking his shock until Jimin shakes his head, exiting the bedroom without so much as a backwards glance.

“What did you do, Yoongs?” Jin murmurs, eyes narrowing at the man next to you.

“What do you mean?” You ask the eldest, pulling the sheet from the bed so it covers your frame better.

“Do you realize how screwed everything is going to be now?” Jin sighs, running his hand through his hair, looking like he’s on the cusp of a mental breakdown. “This isn’t just about us, this is about YN, too.”

“I just-” Yoongi starts.

“You just?” Hoseok gapes, hands balled into fists at his sides. “How can you not think about something like this, Yoongi?”

Jungkook mumbles a weak, “I’m going to check in with Jimin,” before turning on his heels and leaving the room. Tae doesn’t even look your way before he leaves, but the expression you do manage to see on his face leaves you feeling a little embarrassed. Possibly stupid, even.

“What is going on?” You ask, voice wavering from the nerves beginning to build, your anxiety rearing its ugly head. “Yoongi?” You look to him, spotting the hesitance and guilt lurking beyond his eyes.

Hoseok and Namjoon look to you with sympathetic expressions, Jin just shakes his head, disapproval evident.

“Someone, please tell me what’s going on…” You beg, looking to the four men still inside the bedroom, “I’m worried.”

“Let’s give them some privacy,” Namjoon finally says, voice heavy, “Yoongi, you need to explain it to her.”

Yoongi sighs, rubbing his hand against the nape of his neck as soon as the three members depart, looking diminished despite the freshly fucked aura that surrounds him. He still refuses to meet your gaze, shrinking in on himself further with each exhale emitted.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, furrowing your brows when he shakes his head noiselessly, avoiding speaking. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I didn’t mean to-- It’s not like I had this planned.” He mumbles, resting his forehead in one of his hands, looking years older and infinitely more exhausted than he truly is. “I wasn’t going to sleep with you tonight. I wasn’t supposed to, at least.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, scooting away from him, the shift in atmosphere threatening to smother you.

“I just get so lonely.” He cries, shoulders shaking under the emotional pressure he finally releases. You desperately want to reach out and console him, but your question still hangs in the air, heavy and intimidating. “I’ve felt alone for six years,” he adds, shaking his head in his hands. “It’s not like I haven’t gotten off around here, though. The guys take care of me, Hell, I take care of me,” he explains, not looking up.

“I love them,” he adds, not wanting to minimize his intricate relationship with his soulmates. “I love them more than anyone in the world. But Namjoon has Hoseok, Jin has Jimin, and Jungkook has Taehyung… They have had their other halves with them since the group’s creation. The connections they have with each other-” he takes a steep and shaky breath, trying to calm himself down. “I couldn’t relate to that. I could want it, but I couldn’t have it. Not for myself. How could I not feel left out?”

You bite your inner cheek, using all of the restraint you have to not reach out and engulf Yoongi in your arms. You so desperately want to comfort him, seeing how much emotional turmoil he’s dealing with is churning your stomach. You want him to know that he’s enough. That you’re here for him. But you don’t even know why he’s explaining himself, and to say you’re afraid of the reasoning would be an understatement.

“There’s something that happens when twin flames sleep together,” he finally, finally, meets your gaze. You almost wish he hadn’t. He’s far beyond anguished, the pain in his face causing a sob to bubble out of your mouth, tears running icy-cold down your flushed cheeks.

“I’m so sorry…” he cries.

“What did you do, Yoongi?” You ask, distressed voice nearly inaudible.

“I didn’t think,” he answers, voice harsh enough to cut flesh. His head is back in his hands, anger aimed only at himself. “When we slept together, the soul we share rejoined.” He spits out the last word as if it’d cost him his life.

“What does that mean? Rejoined?”

“We’re tethered now, YN.” He tells you, “Do you know what that means?”

“No,” you answer him, confusion coiling around you.

“It means our soul is as close as it can get to being one again.” He explains, rubbing his hands harshly against his face, as if the action could obliterate the events of the night. He doesn’t want to erase the images of you on top of him, bare breasts bouncing as you buck your hips against his, but if erasing those memories meant that he wouldn’t be putting you through what he’s going to now? He’d happily hit erase it all himself.

“If we’re apart for too long… if we’re too far away from each other… We’ll be in pain.” Yoongi admits, face still obscured from your view.

“Pain? What do you mean, Yoongi?” You ask.

“It’ll be like we have hot irons in our chests.” He groans, “That’s how Tae and Kookie have explained it to me.”

“I…” you exhale, likely resembling a deflated balloon. There’s so much you want to say, so much you want to understand. Every time you open your mouth to let a sentence out, you are met with utter silence.

“I’m so, so, so sorry,” Yoongi whispers, sniffling.

“You knew this would happen?” You blanch at the realization. They all knew, judging by their earlier reactions.

“I didn’t think about it…” Yoongi answers, glancing at you, his eyes red and puffy. “I swear, YN, if I had been thinking properly, nothing would have happened. I just got caught up in the moment, and I feel so alone sometimes… and you called me beautiful and it felt like time slowed down-”

His words are rushed, the need to convey his every thought to you weighing him down.

“You guys should have told me before.” You snap, turning to look at him, to see the heartache in his eyes, the guilt that’s threatening to drown the man next to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t premeditated,” he pleads with you, eyes wishing for you to just sit with him and listen. He wants you to know that he didn’t intend to join with you, at least not yet. Not here. Not when you have to leave so soon. He would never, ever, betray you like that. “I didn’t think we were going to--”

“Stop,” you plead, eyes watering. “Just stop. I can’t do this right now. And I don’t want to hear you say that you didn’t think we were going to have sex. I’ll lose it. I- I need to go to my hotel and figure this shit out.” You mutter, standing up and retrieving your long-discarded clothes. Yoongi doesn’t move to stop you, but the anguished look on his face gives you pause. “I just-- Why didn’t you tell me?” You repeat, tears finally falling from your eyes, because, yes. This hurt. This hurt quite fucking bad, regardless of whether Yoongi intended to screw you or not.

You weren’t like this. This person? Not you. The YN from Manhattan would never let anyone into her life so… so willingly; would never have sex with a man after three days of knowing him. You have to look at the bigger picture, despite those facts. The seven men inside this hotel suite weren’t just everyday men. These were your soulmates, and the man pleading for your understanding from the hotel bed was even beyond that. He was a part of you. Cut from the same cloth, embroidered on a different quilt.

But staying here? Discussing his wrongdoing now? You were far too short-tempered to deal with this immediately. You needed space, air to breathe, and a cleansed palette. Yoongi’s heartbroken expression, though, you can’t leave him without at least letting him know that reconciliation wasn’t unimaginable.

“I need time. I’ll get a hold of you when I’m ready to talk, okay?” You tell him, feeling the hole in your chest open further when he mutters his acceptance and rests his head in his hands, dejection palpable.

You have to tear your concentration from him, pulling the sheet along with you out of the room that had been suffocating you with its heavy atmosphere. Hoseok stands in the hallway, sympathetic eyes on you, which only makes you feel that much more at fault.

“Bathroom?” You ask, nodding a thanks to him when he points you to the door across the hallway.

Beyond the whole “joining” betrayal, what stings most is that the rest of the guys saw you. Vulnerable. Ready for whatever they offered. Willing. Lustful. Clueless.

“YN?” Hoseok knocks against the bathroom door, probably checking to make sure you hadn’t leapt from the top story window.

“‘M fine…” You sniffle, “Just need a second.”

“Are you going back to your hotel?” He asks once you finally exit the bathroom, clothed and feeling miserable, Jin’s hoodie back on and Yoongi’s folded neatly on the bathroom counter next to the pristine sink.

“I need time to be alone and think.” You mumble, wiping a few stray tears from your eyes. Hoseok rests his hands on your shoulders, prompting you to look into his eyes.

And your dam breaks, your tears running in streams down your face at his gentle demeanor.

“This isn’t me…” You cry, nuzzling into the shoulder he offers.

“I know,” he soothes you, petting your head delicately, as if the slightest touch would break you. “We all know,” he coos, “I’m going to ride with you to your hotel and make sure you get there safe, is that okay?”

You nod your head against him, knowing that you should suck it up and go alone, but you’re too raw to reject Hoseok’s offer. His warmth is needed, a balm to the ache deep in your wounded heart. He’d probably ignore your rejection anyway, go with you just to be sure that you made it back in one piece.

“Mind if we join you two?” Namjoon asks, leading Jin into the living room where you are locked in Hoseok’s embrace.

“If you want to go,” you mumble, sobs finally subsiding enough so that you can disentangle yourself from Hoseok. Jin and Namjoon both mirror each other’s expressions, worry etched as clear as day on their faces.

“We do,” Jin nods.

Jin. His hoodie! You start to wiggle out of it, not wanting him to think you’re stealing his belongings.

“Keep it,” he tells you gently, stopping you from shrugging out of the warm and stretchy material. “I have four more just like it.” He shrugs, stopping your interjection in its tracks. “It’s cold outside, anyway.”

“Thank you.” You murmur, hands sliding back into the long sleeves.

“I’ll call down and let them know we’re taking a car,” Namjoon says, leading the three of you out of the hotel suite and into the hallway.

Whereas the elevator ride to the suite had been loud, happy, and full of jokes, the ride down was flat; melancholy settled into the small space uncomfortably. With the way the three men keep looking at each other, you wonder if the car ride will be spent in the same awkward silence.

“What did he tell you?” Jin asks, answering your unasked question as he buckles himself into the driver’s seat of the expensive car you’d piled into.

He adjusts the rearview mirror with long fingers before putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the parking garage. You fiddle absentmindedly with a ball of lint on your new hoodie, looking at Jin from the passenger seat you’re sitting in when he comes to a stop at a red light.

“Everything that you’ve all neglected to tell me.” You mutter, feeling betrayal make way onto your taste buds once again.

“We were going to tell you,” Namjoon says from his back seat next to Hoseok. “We just-- we didn't think we’d need to for a while.”

“That’s not for you to decide, Namjoon.” You snap, “This is my life. I deserve to know of anything that could uproot it. You should have told me at the restaurant yesterday.”

“You’re right,” Jin agrees, pressing on the gas as the light goes from red to green. “We should have told you everything from the beginning. We were wrong not to.”

“Thank you.” You mumble, taking a deep breath to steady your temper. “I’m scared.” You admit.

“That’s understandable,” Hoseok tells you, voice soothing. “Why don’t you ask us any questions you have? We’ll answer them honestly. I promise.”

You’re tempted to snap at him, because how could they expect you to take anything they told you now seriously? Hoseok sighs from the backseat, “There’s no reason for us to lie to you, YN. We don’t want you to hate us. We actually happen to want the opposite of that.”

“What’s going to happen once I go back to Manhattan?” You ask after waiting a few moments, fearing the answer you’d receive. “Will Yoongi be okay?” Despite the bitter taste left in your mouth after the night’s events, you could never bring yourself not to care about his well-being, because, yes, of course, you felt the connection and affection that ran through the two of you during your tryst between the sheets. You’d be a fool to suggest that you hadn’t.

“We can only really compare it to our own experiences,” Namjoon starts, “there’s only been a handful of times where Hobi and I have been separated for extended periods. A trip home to see our families when the other can’t make it, different flights during tours, stuff like that. We try to stay together as much as we can. The few times we’ve been apart, though…”

“They’re pretty unbearable.” Hobi finishes, voice strained. “But we’ve also been together more than once, and we’ve been around each other for six years regularly.”

“So, the time you’ve been together affects it?” You ask shyly.

“We don’t know,” Namjoon tells you gently. “We haven’t had a reason to experiment with it.”

“And what happens if you’re apart for too long?”

“Another answer we can’t give you,” Jin tells you, stopping at another red light. He looks at you, face highlighted by the red glow of the traffic light. “We wish we had more information for you, but we don’t.” He offers you his hand that isn’t tethered to the steering wheel, sighing a breath of relief when you grasp it in your own. “Despite Yoongi’s lapse in judgement, which none of us condone by the way, he would never purposefully cause you harm.”

“He’s felt left out for the past six years,” Namjoon agrees, “we love him, and he loves us, but he also had to see us every day for the past six years with our twin flames. He didn’t complain to us about it, but we aren’t stupid. We could see the way it affected him. How it affected his work.”

“After you left the restaurant yesterday, he could hardly contain himself,” Hoseok tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. “I’ve never seen Yoongi look like that.”

“Like what?” You ask.

“Free.” Hoseok smiles, “like he could relax and breathe for the first time in six years. We could see all of the worry just… disappear. Like magic.”

You feel the newly familiar tug on your heartstrings, imagining Yoongi in the restaurant, your soulmates around him, watching you leave with wonder, proximity to you leaving him dazed.

“The thing about Yoongi that you have to understand,” Joon starts, “is that he always used to act on his emotions. He would let them get the best of him, which sucked at times… But he learned to hold himself back and take a beat. He thought he’d never find his other half. He actually gave up on the idea completely last year. He also never complained about it. It’s part of the reason why we love him so much. So when we finally found you ... I haven’t seen him light up like that in a long while.”

“I don’t blame him,” you tell them, running your hand that isn’t intertwined with Jin’s through your hair. “I understand how tricky emotions can be, trust me. I’ve made some shitty decisions because of my feelings, too.”

“You just need time,” Jin says, squeezing your hand reassuringly, his ability to put into words what you’re feeling leaving you smirking.

“Yeah. I think I do.” You agree, looking out at the twinkling city lights of Seoul. “This all is just moving so fast, which I’m not against, I just need a minute to collect my thoughts and whatnot…” You drift off, remembering the looks on three of the members' faces before they had left you in Yoongi’s bedroom. Jimin’s pained expression had especially resonated with you. “Is Jimin mad at me?”

“Not mad,” Namjoon answers you, yawning. “None of us are upset. We just had hopes that this would all play out differently. We thought we’d have more time with you, that you wouldn’t have to hop on a plane and leave the continent within a few weeks. We didn’t think we’d have to explain tethering and everything else so soon.”

“Not that you're living in New York is bad,” Jin reassures you.

“I get it,” you tell him. “Trust me, I know how much easier all of this would be if I lived here.” You chuckle dryly, “someday, though.”

Jin squeezes your hand, pulling up to the entrance of your hotel. “We have all the time in the world. Don’t rush yourself.”

You smile shyly at him, blushing further when he rests a kiss against your knuckles.

“I’ll see you guys soon.” You promise them, nodding towards Hoseok and Namjoon.

Much to your surprise, Elle is still awake.

“I’ve been calling you all night!” She shouts, “Powell wants to Skype us in the morning.”

“Why?” You ask her, pulling a water bottle from the mini fridge in the living room and sitting with Elle on the couch. “Did we do something wrong?”

“From what I’ve heard, no. However, the anticipation for our article has M-Buzz blowing up right now.” Elle tells you, smiling widely. “There’s probably an extension or something of the sort.”

“An extension? I doubt that’s the case. Maybe a pay raise? More credit in the bylines?” You offer, taking a deep swig of your water. “Something that’ll have Andrew shitting his pants.”

“Andrew’s a bitch.” Elle rolls her eyes. “Anyways, I was staying up to let you know. Now that you’re here, I can finally get some damn sleep.”

“Wake me up when you do!” You shout down the hall at her, “We’ll call Powell then.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” You hear her yell back.

It takes mere nanoseconds for you to realize that you won’t be getting good sleep. The slight tug and burn in your chest is a constant reminder of the situation you were finding yourself in. You told Yoongi you needed time, and that’s true. You do need to reflect. But the need for him is heavy and outweighs the hesitance, and before you even know it, your phone is in your hand and the text chain is open.

YN: You awake?

Yoongi: Yeah, can’t sleep yet.

YN: Me too.

Yoongi: I’m sorry.

Yoongi: About everything.

Yoongi: I was an idiot, and I didn’t think. It wasn’t fair of me, and there’s no excuse for it. I just need you to know that I wasn’t trying to trap you here. Or hurt you. Not intentionally, at least.

YN: I know.

YN: I won’t lie and say everything’s fine, because I’m still trying to come to terms with it all.

YN: But I do forgive you, Yoongi.

Yoongi: Thank you so much.

Yoongi: You don’t know how much that means to me.

Yoongi: I’ve been a mess since you left.

YN: Do you feel it, too?

Yoongi: Yeah. Think it’s why I can’t sleep.

YN: Same.

YN: It’s going to be worse than this when I leave, isn’t it?

Yoongi: ...yeah. I’m sorry.

Yoongi: I’m just so fucking sorry.

YN: We’ll have to figure something out.

Yoongi: I know. I’ll have to run it over with the company, but I’m optimistic they’ll support it.

Yoongi: I’ll fly out even if they don’t approve. I’ll do anything to make this right.

YN: Just no more surprises… Okay?

Yoongi: I swear.

YN: I’m going to try and sleep, you should do the same. Night, Yoongi.

Yoongi: I will. Night.

“Up and at ‘em, girl!” Elle shouts, tossing a pillow carelessly at your face.

“That was uncalled for,” you snap at her, crawling out of the fluffy hotel bed and blinking the morning light out of your eyes.

“We have to call Powell, and then we’ve got some shopping to do.”

“Shopping?” You question, skepticism leaking into your tone.

“Yep! Shopping. I want to check out some of the boutiques before we leave for Busan.” She smiles, “Maybe we’ll find some cute outfits for the concerts.”

“Fine,” you agree, “but only because you insist. I’ll get ready and meet you in the kitchen?” You offer.

“Sounds good to me,” Elle smiles, walking out of your room with a skip in her step.

You don’t take too long preparing yourself for the day, opting for a plaid skirt you’d had since high school, and a button-up white dress shirt. You put your hair in a lazy bun and go light on the face makeup, only wearing a nude-toned lipstick and mascara.

Elle waits, as she has the past few mornings, breakfast ready and a smile on her face.

“Have I told you yet that I’m really enjoying it here?” She asks, sipping at her mug of coffee.

“Only a hundred times,” you answer her, taking your mug off the kitchen counter and filling it with your favorite liquid caffeine. “Are we going to use your phone or mine to call Powell?” You ask, sipping tentatively at the slightly bitter drink.

“We can use mine,” Elle shrugs, setting her mug on the counter. You follow suit, waiting for her Skype app to load. Once it does, she clicks your boss’ username. You’re surprised she’s still awake; it’s roughly 11 pm there.

“Great, you guys called!” Powell’s voice states, before she comes into view on her phone screen. Seeing her outside of her work persona is slightly jarring; her work clothes have long been replaced by her silk pajamas.

“Of course! You’d said it was important,” Elle replies.

“It is,” Powell replies. “You guys have no idea how hectic things are over here. We’ve got secondary news sources practically begging for insight on the concert last night. Poor Cam’s been having to dismiss them before they can even get their names out.”

“That’s great to hear, though!” You smile. “We’ve got a lot of content we can work on when we return.”

“That’s the thing,” your boss smiles, “if we continue to get publicity like this, we can upsize. We kind of want to jump the ball on everything.” Powell explains. “So, I was hoping that you’d take up an offer I have for you,” she looks to you, waiting.

“And the offer is?” You ask, nerves prickling.

“M-Buzz would like to formally offer you the position of head reporter.” Powell smiles.

You blanch, completely taken aback by her words.

“Are you sure?” You ask, avoiding the blinding smile Elle is sending your way. “This job isn’t even through yet-”

“Ah, nonsense. Give yourself some credit, YN. You’re gifted. Any article you’ve published has received more than twice the feedback that most of our other reporters get on two of their articles.” She laughs. “So, what do you say?”

“I mean, I’d be stupid to turn it down. Of course I’ll take it.” You smile, heart thumping wildly beneath the swell of your breast.

“Great! I’ll fax the forms to HR tomorrow, and we’ll get everything finalized once you get back from the tour.”

“Sounds good.” You tell her, smiling kindly.

“Oh, and Elle?” Powell asks, stopping herself from ending the call.

“Yes?” Elle asks, eyes finally peeled from you and back towards your boss.

“Since YN’s position will be opening up, we were wondering if you’d like to take over--”

“Yes!” Elle shouts, jumping up and down in the middle of the kitchen. “I’d love to!”

“Alright!” Powell chuckles, “I’ll fax that paperwork over to HR as well. Congratulations, you two. I’ve been rooting for you guys since you started working with us.”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Powell! We won’t let you down.” Elle smiles, chirping her goodbye to Powell, which you echo.

Only when Elle calms down long enough to go and get ready for your shopping spree do you think about your actions. You’d accepted a promotion. A fucking promotion. Despite having seven soulmates living on the other half of the planet, you’d accepted the position without so much as a second thought.

Of course, you’d wanted this position. This was what you’d been aiming for since starting to work for M-Buzz. You always wanted credit, praise, commendation, acclaim for your work… but now you felt you couldn’t even fully appreciate the accomplishment. Because despite the happiness you’d typically be feeling by now, you were worried about what the guys would think.

Would Yoongi be upset? Would Namjoon and Jin judge you for such a split-second decision that would keep you anchored in New York? How would Hobi even respond to the news? And the youngest members… Would Jimin, Tae, and Koo even be able to look at you?

It’s not like you felt remorseful or regretted the decision you’d made, but you had more to think about now. You had other people to think about now. You couldn’t ignore that, or them. You’d need to explain yourself and figure everything out.

Especially when you consider now being tethered to Yoongi. That you would feel guilty about. You’d put him into a situation without considering his emotions. His pain. If you were a bitter person, you wouldn’t care, given the events of last night. But you’re YN LN, and you’re hardly even the slightest bit bitter. And now? Well, now you feel horrible for being so quick to decide. Realistically, you should have waited for an answer until you could go back to New York and explain everything that had happened during the tour to Powell. Realistically, you should be lightening your workload after the tour so that you can move to South Korea.

There are so many ‘you should’ scenarios running through your mind, it’s close to making the room spin, and your stomach tighten. You need to tell them. Sooner rather than later.

You pull out your phone, enter the group chat, and send them a quick text.

YN: Hey, if you guys aren’t busy tonight, there’s some stuff I need to talk to you about.

Hobi: Is everything ok?

Joon: We’ll be free to talk after a few interviews we have, probably around 9 pm or so.

YN: Sounds good. I’ll meet you guys at your hotel then?

Joon: Works for us. :)

Jin: Yeah.

You’re sad that Yoongi, Jimin, Tae, and Kookie don’t reply, but you know that Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jin will tell them.

“You ready to go?” Elle asks, sliding into her ankle boots.

“Yep.” You tell her, grabbing your hotel key off the granite countertop and following her out the door.

The first few stores Elle drags you to are quick stops, cute knick-knacks and baubles sitting prettily on glass shelves. You can’t help but buy a trinket for each soulmate you’ll be seeing tonight, the oddities suiting the men you were surely falling for so well. It’s when you’re looking at the more hidden shelves that you come up with an idea that you pray will help alleviate the tension with the maknaes. You grab the items you think are perfect for the job and head to the antique shop’s counter. The elderly woman behind it is smiling kindly at you.

“Will you need a gift bag?” She asks, running the cute trinkets over the scanner on the countertop.

“Yes, please.” You smile, handing her your debit card. Nothing you picked was too valuable, the total hardly making a dent in your checkbook.

“Hm, guilt gifts?” Elle asks, stepping out of the shop with you in tow.

“Of the sort,” you answer her, blushing. “I’m going to have to tell them about the promotion tonight.” You explain, shaking your head. “I feel bad for accepting it without even considering them.”

“Why? Won’t they be happy for you?” Elle asks, perplexed.

“I dunno,” you tell her. “It’s going to keep me cemented in New York for a bit. I can’t imagine they’d be too ecstatic.”

“Ah, that makes sense, I guess.” She replies lamely, kicking at a rock on the sidewalk while you wait for the crosswalk light to change from the red hand to the green walking symbol.

You can feel the ache inside your vessel grow stronger with each step you take towards the stores Elle is leading you to; the dull throbbing growing slowly as you walk further downtown. Yoongi’s surely feeling it, too. You pull out your phone, checking the handful of group texts you’ve missed.

Hobi: Jaaaagi

Hobi: She never said whether she’s okay or not. :((((

Jin: If she weren’t, Yoongi would feel it. You know that.

Yoongi: I think she’s feeling sad.

Hobi: Sad? Why?

Yoongi: Dunno. Let her tell us.

You thumb out of the group text and turn your phone off, guilt bubbling. They were bound to get nervous regardless of what you had sent them. And if you text them back now, you’ll just end up spilling, telling them all about your new position when you know that it should be said to their faces.

“Where to next?” You ask Elle, hoping for a distraction. She gives you one gladly, pulling your bag-clad hand and leading you into a boutique with mannequins everywhere.

“My arms hurt,” you pout. You’ve been in and out of shops all day, and have spent at least two weeks’ pay on cute clothes and ornaments you’d decorate your townhouse back home with.

“The Lyft should be here soon,” Elle tells you, checking the app on her phone. “It says they’re on this street. It’s just a matter of that damn traffic light changing.”

“What time is it?” You ask her, sighing in relief when a car pulls up to the curb and honks.

“About 6:30, why?”

“I’m going to see the guys and tell them about work at nine,” you answer, putting your bags in the trunk that the Lyft driver pops open for you.

“Maybe you should pack a bag? In case it’s too late when you guys are done talking?” Elle suggests, buckling her seatbelt while you give the driver the hotel name.

“Probably,” you agree, fidgeting with your fingers atop your lap. “I have enough outfits now,” you smile. “Will you be okay tonight alone? I feel bad leaving you again.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll just Skype Cam.”

“Skype Cam?” You ask, wiggling your brows.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up. We just started to talk. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”

“You’re soulmates,” you sing, nudging her. “It’s supposed to go somewhere.”

“I think we’re both nervous.” She admits, biting her bottom lip. “He’s never been in a serious relationship, and after what happened with Adam… I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Elle, I’m going to support you with whatever decision you make, you know that, right?” You ask her, securing one of her hands in yours. “There’s no pressure for you to be with anyone. You’re the only one who can choose what’s best for you. I just enjoy irritating you.”

“You enjoy irritating anyone,” she grumbles, yanking lightly at your bun.

“You’re right about that.”

“Of course I am. I know you better than most people. It’s something I take pride in,” she giggles. “You’re pretty much a closed book around anyone and everyone.”

“I slept with Yoongi,” you admit, twiddling with her fingers.

“You what now?” Elle gapes, eyes triple their typical size. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. I thought you said that you slept with Yoongi…”

“Yep.” You say, popping the ‘p’ for extra effect.

“I-I mean- wow.” Elle croaks. “Congrats.”

She looks at you, still shocked and completely bewildered by your flip in character, and then laughs. Which makes you laugh. Which probably irritates the driver, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Tears are springing from your eyes, and your stomach is positively aching by the time you pull into the hotel parkade.

“Thanks!” You tell the driver, hopping out and retrieving your bags from the trunk with Elle.

“Wow.” She repeats as the elevator doors close. You side-eye her, and then the two of you collapse in fits of laughter again.

“Who knew a trip to South Korea was what you needed to loosen up?” she coughs out, wiping stray tears from her eyes.

“I’m not that uptight, am I?” You ask.

“I mean… Yeah.” She answers you before gripping your shoulder affectionately. “It’s okay, dude. I’ve never held it against you.”

“Well, gee. Thanks.” You giggle. “I didn’t know I was that much of a party pooper. Maybe I should get laid more often.”

“You do realize you have seven soulmates, right? It’s perfect. One for each day of the week.”

And you’re both erupting into laughter once more.

It’s half past nine when you get a text from Yoongi, telling you he’s in the parkade waiting for you. Your stomach flips in anticipation. You’ve already sworn to yourself that you won’t tell any of the boys alone. They will all be with you when you finally tell them about your promotion.

He didn’t need to send the text; you could tell he was close when the dull pain in every fiber of your body finally seemed to dissipate. The pain gives way to excitement and equanimity.

The BMW i8 is lean, dark, and sexy, matching Yoongi pretty well. He hops out of the car when he sees you, hoodie covering most of his face. What isn’t covered by the warm garment is cloaked by the air mask he wears, and the dark sweats that hang off the ‘v’ of his hips.

“Hey,” you tell him, surprising him when you pull him into a hug, your chest that he remembers naked above him pressed flush against his own.

“Hi,” he whispers, melting into your touch. Neither of you had quite realized how much you missed the other.

When you finally disentangle yourselves from each other, he leads you to the passenger door, opening it for you. The butterfly doors shock you at first, and you want to admire them, but there’s time for that later. You allow Yoongi to help you into the car and buckle you in, appreciating the intimacy of the gestures.

He slides smoothly into the driver’s seat, headband keeping his unruly hair from interfering with his vision.

“How was your day?” He asks, the engine roaring to life at the touch of a button.

“It was good, I went shopping with Elle and bought some clothes.” You smile, remembering the gifts you shoved into the backpack at your feet, along with a change of clothes and a few makeup products. “How was yours?”

“Stressful,” he admits, pulling out of the parking garage. “We had three interviews today alone, and the interviewers only asked questions about the soulmate reveal. I get it, we did kind of make a thing out of it. I just wish people would let our personal lives be kept personal. We got asked at least eight times if we’re all fucking.” He scoffs. “That’s nobody’s business but ours. And yours.”

You smile softly at him, “That’s completely understandable, Yoongi.”

“I’m just so exhausted of everyone bleeding us dry when it comes to our personal shit.” He grumbles, hands on the steering wheel, tightening their grip.

The slight motion catches your eye, and before long, you realize that, yep, you have a hand kink. Min Yoongi’s hands could render you transfixed for hours, you’re sure of it. The deftness to them, the long slender fingers, the perfectly manicured nails… Fuck. You can see veins and muscles, which only turns you on further. His knuckles stick out from the grip he has, skin turning nearly translucent from the strain. And the rings he wears… Could you have a ring kink? The jewelry is sinful against the milky tone of his hands under the moonlight. You can imagine them catching on your cunt as he curls his fingers inside of you, rubbing them expertly against your soft spot while the palm of his hand rests hot and heavy on your clit. Orgasm building while you beg for him to just fuck you senseless-

“Like what you see?” Yoongi quips, pulling you from your sex-filled reveries.

You blush deeply, looking out of the car window to try and hide your embarrassment.

“Don’t hide from me, doll…” Yoongi nearly whines, one of his hands finding yours, the deft fingers you’d thought of so sensually moments prior winding with your own. “I don’t like it when you hide from me.”

Your soul warms at his touch, probably purring on the couch of your heart, the damn bitch.

“You’re the one who called me out for admiring you,” you quip, biting on your lower lip.

“When you look at me like that, it turns me on.” He explains, shrugging as if he hadn’t just said something damning. “And I’m trying to take things slowly from now on.”

“Why?” You nearly pout; his words bruise you, despite what you’d said to him last night. You had pretty much told him you’d need time, but here you are, with Min Yoongi in his BMW, imagining the ways he could make you scream his name just using his fingers.

“You know why,” he replies softly, squeezing your hand. “If you want to sleep with the others, that’s fine, I heavily support it. They’re talented. I just don’t want our connection to run deeper than it already is… you’re leaving after the tour and, well… it’s going to be hard enough.”

His explanation only makes your heart bruise further, especially knowing what you’d be telling all of them soon. Here Yoongi was, trying desperately to make things easier for both of you so that you’d be comfortable, and you’d accepted a job offer in New York that’d keep you there for an extra year, at least.

His thumb traces absent-minded patterns across the top of your hand for the rest of the drive to their hotel. The only sound emitted for the rest of the ride is the classical piano that Yoongi has playing at a comfortable volume. Being with him is easy, you note. As easy as breathing. You’d felt it with the others, too.

It’d be so damn easy to just quit your job and move here, find a job while they tour. But you were dedicated to your profession, regardless of the magnetic pull that the boys had on you. It wouldn’t be fair to leave M-Buzz. Or to leave Elle to trudge through the article alone.

“Finally!” Hoseok squeals, opening the door to reveal you and Yoongi. Yoongi had been pulling his keys from his pocket when his chipper hyung had swung open the hotel door. “We missed you!” He shouts, pulling you into a hug.

“You saw me last night,” you laugh, hugging him back. “But I missed you, too.”

Jin and Namjoon are sitting on the couch, Jin reading a book with earbuds in (how the hell can he do that?) while Namjoon types furiously on his laptop. His focus is intimidating, and you try your best not to draw him from it while Yoongi and Hoseok go to retrieve the others.

You can hear the raised voices of assumedly Jimin and Hobi, and you shrink slightly in on yourself; knowing fully well that they’re likely arguing about you. You can’t make out what they’re saying, but the tone rings real and true. It’s a disagreement, and not a lighthearted one.

“Do they ever shut up?” Namjoon whines, breaking concentration from his laptop. His eyes go wide when he sees you sitting across from him. “YN!” He beams, discarding his laptop and leaping towards your portion of the couch. “When did you get here?” He asks, hugging you tightly against his broad chest.

“A few minutes ago,” you chuckle, trying to hug him back the best you can. His arms are strong, and the grip they have on you prevents you from moving much.

“I didn’t see or hear you come in,” he pouts, releasing you from his warm embrace. “I was too busy emailing our events coordinator. Everyone’s pissed about us revealing our marks.”

“Wait- what? You didn’t run it by Big Hit first?” You gape. You can just barely make out the moment when Namjoon mentally slaps himself.

“‘Bout that… We kind of had a contract with them saying that we wouldn’t reveal them.” He mumbles.

“A contract?” You ask. He nods. “But you did it anyway?” Another nod. “The fuck?” A shrug.

“We were getting tired of hiding. It made us feel like freaks.” Joon explains.

“I’m not ‘the fuck-ing’ you guys,” you rush out, “what kind of company makes their performers sign a contract stating they were not to reveal their marks?”

“They said it secured us more publicity. We were all mostly kids when we signed on, didn’t think much of it.” He explains dryly. “But it got pretty lonely pretty quickly. Not being able to hold hands in public unless it was for show on Run! Felt pretty shitty.”

“Clearly,” you muse, shaking your head in distaste. “I’m sorry you guys had to go through that. It’s great that you took a stand, though.” You smile.

“Is it?” Jimin asks, strutting into the living room with the rest of the guys behind him. Tae and Kookie don’t meet your gaze, but Jimin does. You don’t miss out on the irritation that shines brightly in his gaze.

“I think so, yes.” You answer him.

“We didn’t even reveal your initials.” Jimin rolls his eyes. “The backlash we’re facing right now...”

“Yah! Don’t take it out on YN, Jimin!” Hoseok growls, swatting the younger man upside his silver-haired head. “It’s not her fault that we’re in trouble. She didn’t make us do anything.”

“I know,” Jimin relents. His gaze softens on yours, but only slightly. You can still see hurt simmering beyond his brown irises. “I’m sorry, YN. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I just don’t understand the backlash you guys are getting. I’ve actually been pointedly avoiding the internet for that reason.”

“It’s just a bunch of bullshit articles, anyways,” Tae growls, picking at his sweater.

“Our public image is important, Taehyung.” Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand tiredly across his face.

“If the public can’t respect destiny, then fuck public image.” Tae spits.

“Do you like the money you’re paid?” Yoongi quips, sitting behind you and Namjoon. Jin, bless his heart, finally seems to sense the change of atmosphere and pulls out his earbuds.

“Hey!” He shouts, mirroring Namjoon’s earlier response and flying to your side. Now you’re sandwiched between him and Joon, Yoongi sitting slightly behind you on the large piece of furniture.

“It’s not all about the money,” Tae argues, ignoring Jin’s outburst. “I don’t want the money if I can’t express myself.”

“We understand that, Taehyung. But we’re locked into contracts. We can’t just do whatever we want, despite how much we want to.” Jungkook tries to reason with him, but Tae just shakes his head and settles his focus on you.

His eyes are blazing; you can’t even begin to decipher the emotions behind them. You’re not scared of him, despite his cold demeanor, you know in your heart that none of them would ever harm you.

“Why are you here?” He quips. Well, maybe not hurt you physically. Emotionally? Seemed like that was fair game.

“I need to talk to you guys,” you answer him. “I got offered the lead reporting position at M-Buzz today.”

“That’s great!” Hobi cheers, sitting on the opposite side of Namjoon.

“Yeah, that’s great, sweetheart.” Jin smiles, hugging you tightly against him once more.

“I took it.” You add.

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t you?” Hobi deadpans.

“Because it’s in New York…? You guys are here?”

“And?” Joon questions.

“What do you mean, ‘and?’ It means I’ll be in New York for at least another year.” You explain.

“Okay?” Jin replies. “We knew that you’d be going back. You’d already told us as much.”

“But don’t you guys want me to move here?” You ask, confused.

“Of course, we want you to move here,” Namjoon tells you. “But we don’t expect you to drop everything and move immediately. You have a life in New York. We’ve told you that we understand that. You can’t put everything on pause for us.”

“But the tethering-”

“We will visit you, and you will visit us.” Yoongi shrugs. “We’re planning on a US tour within a few months or so anyway.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He reassures you, “You don’t have to put anything on the back burner for us, YN. Ever.”

“Thank you guys…” You mumble, tears building in your eyes. “Oh! I almost forgot. I brought you guys presents.”

Despite their lack of interest in looking your way, you can see the way the younger men's eyes light up at your announcement.

“I just need my backpack.” You chirp, going to stand up.

“I got it,” Jin tells you, already halfway across the living room.

“Thank you,” you tell him once he returns and hands it to you. “Okay, let’s see here.”

You pull the first bauble from the bag, feeling the shape, and hand it to Jin. You hand the next one to Hobi, and then Tae, Koo, Joon, Yoongi, and finally Jimin. They all look at you with childish impatience, “go ahead,” you tell them, giggling.

They all cry out in excitement when they see what you’ve bought them. Jimin clutches the calico cat figurine tightly against his chest, cooing in adoration at the inanimate object. Jungkook mirrors him with the bunny figurine you’d found for him. Tae looks smitten with the ‘Starry Night’ plaque you’d found, and even sends you a shy smile.

Jin’s giggling at the eccentrically designed glass-chopsticks you found for him, the flames painted on them bringing tears to his eyes. Hobi is looking at the sunflower cross-stitch in a frame that you’d found for him with glossy eyes. Namjoon is very invested in the looking glass you’d found him, using it to examine the cracks in his hands. Yoongi looks amazed at the 88-key miniature model piano you bought him, the brown lacquer of it glistening under the room’s lighting.

“Thank you!” Jin chirps, wacking the two chopsticks together like they’re drumsticks.

“Yes, thank you!” Jimin smiles.

The rest of them echo their thanks, and you’re aware of the way Yoongi gravitates toward you, hand finding your own and holding onto it tightly.

“Listen, I know you three are upset with me-” You start, looking to the three youngest members. “So I got you guys something extra.” You smile, tossing them their additional gifts. They all shout in delight when they unwrap the special edition Pokémon figurines you’d scouted at the antique store.

“These are amazing, YN! But, upset?” Jimin asks, voice heavy. “We’re not upset.”

“Jimin…” Kookie warns.

“We’re hurt.” Jimin finishes.

“You’re…. Hurt?” You ask, confused.

“Yes. Hurt. You hurt our feelings.” Tae adds, picking at a nail, not so much as looking in your general direction now that the spirit of your gift giving has died down.

“How? What did I do?”

“Well, you slept with Yoongi, so we’re assuming you kissed him. Without inviting us.”

You blanch at that, heart racing. “I- what?”

“You heard me,” Tae mumbles, rolling his eyes.

“That’s why you guys have been giving everyone hell?” Namjoon asks, baffled. “You’re hurt that YN didn’t ask you to kiss her?”

“Yoongi said that he wouldn’t sleep with her until she moved here because of the tethering,” Jungkook speaks up, defending his lovers and himself. “He said that if that were what YN wanted, we could talk to her about it. All of us. Together.”

You’re positively dumbfounded.

“What-”

“We weren’t upset with you, YN. We’re upset with Yoongi.” Jimin pouts. “And we feel left out.”

“Oh…” You exhale, fearing you’ll forget how to breathe if they all don’t stop looking at you like a meal, because, yes. That’s what the shift in conversation has led to.

“Plus, you missed out on our game. We won, by the way, because Jimin managed to snag Jin’s controller and help us.” Tae smirks.

“Congratulations…” You breathe out, labored pants hardly escaping your puckered lips.

Jimin side-eyes his two maknaes, standing up and motioning for them to do the same. The hyungs, as if they were one damn person, all retreat from you, knowing smirks on their faces.

“We’d like a prize,” Jimin tells you, wicked smirk on his beautiful face as they step towards you.

“Wh- what kind of prize?” You gape, enraptured by the three beautiful men strutting towards you.

“To taste you,” Jimin replies steadily, voice needy. “Just a kiss. If you want more, we might consider giving it to you.”

“Okay.” You acquiesce.

You’re pleasantly surprised when Jimin side-steps, motioning for Tae to take the lead. Taehyung is shocked himself, looking to Jimin as if to ask if he’s sure. Jimin nods, a boyish smile gracing his features.

Taehyung takes a deep breath and steps toward you; his earlier tough exterior fading away.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, only a millimeter between your lips and his. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Tae,” you say, and he meets your gaze. “Kiss me.”

It’s as if your words have awakened something deep inside the brunette. His hands, warm and sturdy, gently cup your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks as they heat up. His eyes are soft on yours.

His thumb traces the swell of your warmed cheeks, following it down to your jawline, and up to your bottom lip. The pad of his thumb rubs lightly at the soft skin, pulling your lip ever so slightly, until you’re practically buzzing from anticipation. You let out a shaky breath, thankful an entire moan hadn’t slipped.

“You haven’t even kissed her, and she’s coming undone.” Jimin praises him, “Show her how good it can feel to be with us, Taehyung.”

You’re thankful you’re sitting on the couch, because had you been standing, your knees would have buckled when Tae’s lips finally pressed against your own. They’re warm, expertly molding against yours, and it takes only a slight intake of breath on your end before his tongue is sliding against yours, minty flavour greeting you excitedly.

You moan against Taehyung’s hot mouth, relishing in the feeling of him tightening his grasp on you, keeping you pressed firmly against him as he barricades you into the couch. He sighs, lifting you onto his lap once he finally seats himself, letting his hands fall from the edges of your face so that he can tangle them in your hair, tugging lightly.

The overwhelming bliss that you feel when he tugs at your hair has you whimpering against his swollen lips, rocking lightly against his thigh that you’re straddling, the thick muscle beneath the jeans he wears rubbing heavenly against your scantily clad sex. The plaid skirt you wear rides up your thighs from the movement, air hitting your ass as the fabric gives way to your skin, cotton panties that are a size too small leaving not much to the imagination of the men watching you and Taehyung.

You hear harsh intakes of breath, and a small mutter of “fuck,” from behind you, but you’re too overwhelmed by the taste and feeling of Taehyung to pay anyone else any mind.

There’s a shift in the couch next to you, and then another, and you finally part from Taehyung’s eager mouth to look to Jungkook and Jimin. Both of which have settled into the couch on either side of you and Tae.

“I want a turn,” Jungkook pouts, holding his arms out for you to take.

Tae helps lift you off of his lap so that you can hover over Jungkook, gripping the Golden Maknae’s hands in your own. He smiles shyly at you, the heat behind his eyes melting your cunt.

“Come here,” he breathes, pulling you into his lap. You lace your arms around his neck adoringly, pressing a light kiss to his nose. “I hope you don’t think that’s all you’re giving me.” He grins, pulling you gently by your chin until your lips are ghosting across his.

You’re the one who presses your lips against his, tasting the Chapstick he loves so much on his open mouth. You shiver, melting into him when he grabs one of your hips in a strong hand, the other palming tentatively at your chest. You arch into his chest, head swimming from the feeling of Jungkook’s tongue running soft and slickly against yours, his hands adding a new pleasure as they grip and tug at the sensitive parts of your body.

Your hips grind against his, wet panties rubbing against the tent in his sweatpants. You can feel the heat of his erection, his cock begging to be released from the harsh cotton confines. Jungkook moans, pinching a nipple through your button-up and biting down on your bottom lip lightly.

There’s a slight gasp from the opposite end of the couch, and you look with sexed eyes as Hoseok readjusts himself through his joggers.

“No, eyes on us.” Jimin orders, beckoning you onto his lap with his pointer finger.

You crawl over the muscled thighs of Jungkook and Taehyung, eager to please the young dancer.

“Good girl,” Jimin praises you, feeling him swell when you whimper at his approval and position yourself over him, as you had done with Jungkook.

Jimin isn’t nearly as nervous or innocent as the other two, you know that much as soon as he locks his eyes on yours, the intent behind them is deafening. He snakes a hand up your bare thighs, lifting the skirt to your hips where it stays.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” He asks the room.

There’s murmurs of approval, breathy pants at the sight of you leaving your cunt aching for contact. “No, eyes on me. It’s rude to look elsewhere,” Jimin chastises you, stopping your moving neck. You whine at the grip, trying to grind down on him, but his arms lock you into place, and he clicks his tongue at you.

“Look at me, baby.” He orders you, releasing your throat from his hand.

You do, nearly combusting from what you see. His eyes are hot and wanting on yours, mirroring the desperation you have for him.

“Don’t look at them when you’re with me like this.” He pleads, and you can see the genuineness in his words. Your heart aches. Did he truly not understand the effect he had on everyone?

“Only you, Jimin,” you whisper, seeing the enamored look he has for you mix into his hot expression.

“Good girl,” he smiles, pulling your mouth against his.

His kiss is hot and heavy, his dominance leaking onto his tongue and saliva and mixing heavenly with yours. He tastes like cinnamon and passion, his hands pulling you tight against him and keeping you caged to his chest.

You wouldn’t mind being a prisoner here, you tell yourself.

You grab blindly at his hoodie, wanting nothing more than to rip the fabric off of him.

“Patience,” Taehyung cooes, his hand running along your spine while Jimin explores your heaving chest.

“She’s so ready for us,” Jungkook whines.

Jimin nips harshly at your bottom lip at the appraisal, Jungkook croons, sending pulses of hot want directly to your empty core. You whine when Jimin breaks contact, trying desperately to reconnect your lips with his.

“Do you want more?” He asks, the genuine tone leaking back into his words. “We need to hear you say yes, baby.” He purrs.

“Yes,” you moan, delving back into the swell of his lips and pressing him further into the cushion of the couch.

Tae’s hands have wandered from your spine, downwards, running along the muscles of your calf. “Such an eager girl…” He whispers, tugging the clasp on your bra free.

You whimper as the cold air hits your breasts, your bra sliding down your arms. You can hear Jungkook and Taehyung move from the couch, behind you, feel them when they help your bra slide off your arms they gently wrench free from Jimin’s hoodie.

“So beautiful.” Jungkook murmurs, transfixed by the expanse of your naked skin.

“He’s right…” Jimin breathes against you, running his hands up your sides and kneading your eager breasts. “You’re breathtaking…”

“So are you…” You whine, resting the palm of your hand against his cheek. He melts into the touch, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling.

He opens them, the devilish glint in his eyes having returned. “I’m going to fuck you good, baby. That’s a promise.” He grins, the contrast in his wording and tone rendering you a mess. “But first, you’re going to suck Tae’s cock. Would you do that for me?” He smiles, eyes crinkling.

“Mm…” You whimper, looking around the room for Tae.

He’s moved from the couch to sit in a matching armchair, legs spread, erection pressing harshly against denim. You try desperately not to focus on the older men sitting on the couch, knowing damned well you’d be a lost cause if you laid eyes upon the reasoning for the hitched breathing and moans coming from that end of the sofa.

“Come here,” Tae calls, his voice low and thick with desire.

You nod, removing yourself from Jimin’s lap, and walk to the chocolate-haired man spread on the armchair. He greets you with a deep kiss, running his tongue harshly through your hot saliva, grinding it against yours.

“You taste so good,” he praises you, tugging at the flesh of your ass.

You smirk at him, dropping slowly to your knees in front of him. He sighs, simply watching as you undo the button of his jeans and unzip his fly. You run your nails lightly against his tanned skin underneath the waistband of his boxer-briefs, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Fuck.” He whimpers, thrusting his hips slightly upwards against your touch.

Taking pity on the poor man, you pull his boxers down, openly gaping at his thick cock when it’s finally freed from the cotton prison of his underwear.

“Big, isn’t he?” Jimin asks, kneeling next to you on the floor. “Don’t think you can take all of him into your mouth?”

You whine, “I don’t know.”

“Try.” Jimin orders you. You couldn’t disobey him even if you tried. The heavy arousal settles itself between your thighs, leaving you only thirsting for one thing. You grip Taehyung’s length in your hand, cunt tightening at the familiar weight and warmth of a cock in your hand.

Taehyung arches back, adam’s apple straining against the tightened skin of his neck as you thumb his precum across the head of his reddened dick.

You can feel Jimin’s hot glare on you; you can feel everyone’s hot glares on you. It only encourages you in your task, the need to please them running heavy in your veins. Your sexed high giving you all of the courage you need to lick a stripe up Taehyung’s cock.

He cries out, copper skin fighting the muscles beneath it as you repeat your actions, swirling your tongue across the slit on his cockhead, the salty tang of his excitement causing you to mewl against him.

He groans, bucking his member against your tongue, and you press your hands down against his hips to keep him from bucking into your mouth any further.

“Stay still, Taehyung.” Jimin orders, running his hand along your shoulder blade. “You can do it, baby girl.”

Your cunt clenches without pause at Jimin’s motivation, begging for any attention, because at this point, you’re truly and painfully horny.

You force yourself to refocus on Taehyung, taking the head of his cock fully into your mouth, you can tell that he’s holding his excitement back when you start to bob down against the tip of his length, testing your boundaries. You could do this.

You take a deep breath through your nose, clenching your left hand tightly, and slowly take Taehyung inch by inch into the hot velvet of your throat. He lets out a loud moan, nearly coming when he feels the back of your throat hit the head of his cock. “Fuck, just like that,” he growls, thrusting against your hands when you cup his balls in your hand and squeeze lightly, urging him to let himself loose inside of your mouth.

“Fuck,” he pants, his balls tightening in your grasp as you moan around his girthy length, the warmth of it sinful against your tongue.

“Such a good girl,” Jimin sighs, pinching a nipple between eager fingers. You moan out against Taehyung’s length, feeling him shiver at the sensation of your teeth scraping gently against his erection. “You’re going to let Tae come on your tongue, aren’t you, baby?”

“Mm,” you groan, grazing your teeth against the man beneath you again.

He’s completely lost in the feeling of you on him, hot and wanting. It just takes one more look at you, eyes tearing as you look up at him, Jimin playing with your bare skin, your mouth suction cupped around his hard cock… and the men on the couch, touching each other. His balls tighten again, and he comes in your mouth hotly, curses falling from his chapped lips.

“Fuck,” he moans, relaxing back against the chair when you finally release his spent cock from your mouth. He feels as though you’ve ravaged his very being. Like you’re all he has.

“You did such a good job, baby girl.” Jimin cooes, rubbing a bit of Tae’s come off of your chin with his thumb, amazed when you lick it off of the pad of his thumb. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Only for you, Jimin.” You coo, hoping that he can feel the emotion that you feel as he looks into your eyes.

“Jungkook, how do you want our lovely YN?” Jimin asks, looking to his maknae. Jungkook sits where you and Jimin had been prior, thick cock in his hands, stroking at the velvety smooth erection.

“On top of me,” Jungkook whines, watching as Jimin helps to relieve you of your underwear and skirt. Leaving you completely naked in front of them. He wishes he could only see this for the rest of his life.

“How does that sound, baby girl? You want to ride Jungkook?” Jimin asks, voice dangerously low.

“Yes, Jimin.” You answer, nearly crying at the realization that your slick cunt would finally get some relief.

Jimin helps you up, leading you back to the large sofa. In front of Jungkook, who looks ravaged and begging for relief. You straddle Kookie, leaning in to kiss him while your hand positions him under your eager sex.

Jungkook bites at your lip when he feels your soft hands grip the base of his cock, shocked moan rumbling from deep within the confines of his muscular chest. He keeps his eyes on yours as you sink on him slowly, focusing on the stretch of your cunt as he fills you.

“Does he feel good, baby girl?” Jimin asks, removing his shirt.

“Mhm, Jimin…” You whine, raising yourself slowly before lowering yourself again.

You can feel your senses fill with your pleasure, your wetness finally being indulged by something more than Jimin’s voice. You clench around Jungkook, feeling your sanity fade and the carnal need to move around Jungkook take over.

And you do, you move. You rise slowly, the tug of Jungkook against the swollen walls of you leaving you crying out into the empty air above you.

Jungkook whines at the loss of contact, but meets your erotic cries with his own when you sink back down around his pulsing length, the warmth of you nearly driving him mad.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he whines, black tresses falling damply against his forehead.

“You feel so good, Kookie,” you whimper, clenching your cunt needily around him.

“Shit, YN,” he groans, eyes rolling back into his head as you repeat your thrusts. His hips raise in tune with yours, snapping wildly to meet your exposed cunt as you grind back down on top of him.

The sensation of him slapping without abandon against you has you seeing stars beyond closed eyes, the hot and heavy sensation of your orgasm building quickly in your lower abdomen. You grind down more needily against Jungkook’s dick, your clit rubbing desperately against his pubic bone.

“Touch me, Kookie,” you beg, eyes screwed so tightly shut, you don’t know whether you’ll ever be able to open them again.

“I got you, baby girl,” Jimin cooes, and you feel the heavy pad of two fingers rest hotly against your swollen clit, rubbing harsh circles with every snap of your hips.

Jungkook’s hands find purchase atop your bouncing breasts, squeezing the flesh there with a tightness that has you screaming and coming completely undone on top of him. His hips snap up at you through your orgasm, chasing his high without abandon.

“Fuck,” he cries out, movements stuttering, hot arousal coating the inside of your cunt.

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jimin smiles, wiping stray tears from your face.

“It felt so good,” you whimper, molding into his waiting body as Jungkook slides out of you, spent and sweaty.

“I know,” Jimin tells you sweetly. “Are you sure you can handle me tonight, baby?”

You’re exhausted, yes. But the way Jimin looks at you now, eyes dark with lust, breathing labored, chest bare, you don’t care how tired you are.

“I’m sure,” you tell him, pulling his lips desperately against your own.

“I’ll tell you what, baby girl. I’ll take it easy on you tonight, and just fuck you over this couch. I’ll save you riding my face for another day, okay?” He peppers your face with gentle kisses, “and you’ll sleep with me tonight.”

“Okay, Jimin.” You agree, allowing him to position you over the couch.

He rests his back against yours, warmth soothing you, his mouth resting right above your ear.

“You can look at them now,” he tells you gently, “I want them to see how much you enjoy me fucking you.”

You do, finally, you look at the older men who’ve sat on the couch the entire time. Your breath catches at the sight. They look about as ravished as you felt.

Yoongi’s watching you with sex blown eyes; Jin’s match. Namjoon and Hoseok are panting heavily, eyes lidded. No one’s made a move to touch themselves, though. They’re all just… watching.

You want to ask why, but when Jimin slams his cock harshly inside your recently recovered sex; you can’t bring yourself to care.

Surely the boys would receive noise complaints in the morning.

His thrusts are articulated, sharp, and powerful, leaving you panting and screaming for release.

“You want to come again, baby girl?” Jimin growls against the shell of your ear, biting gently at the flesh there.

“Please,” you choke out, tightening around him.

You shout out when his fingers find your clit again, the familiar rubbing sending you over the edge within moments. Jimin’s not long behind you, flesh on flesh finally ceasing as he releases himself inside of you, his excitement mixing with Jungkook’s.

You couldn’t tell anyone what happened next to save your life. You remember a heavy blanket being wrapped around you. Steady arms lead you to a bedroom-- Jimin’s, you think. But you’re fast asleep before you can even check.

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balanceoflightanddark · 4 months ago

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Azula is, without a doubt, the most controversial character in Avatar: the Last Airbender. There's no tapdancing around it. Most discussions involving her usually devolve into "why are you justifying a despot," or "was she born evil," or "does she deserve redemption?". Whenever she's brought up, it's like battle lines are being drawn and we're all waiting for somebody to take the first shot.

My question is, what about her is generating so much controversy to begin with? I mean, ATLA is no stranger to controversial characters. Katara's gotten it. Aang's gotten it. Jet and Hama have gotten it. So Azula isn't quite out of the norm regarding hot-button topics.

The first thing I can think of is that she's the enemy of Zuko, the fandom's golden child. Again, no way around it. He's insanely popular, and anybody who's opposed to him is going to be seen in a negative light. This includes Azula since she's his primary nemesis. Ozai may have caused his scar and Zhao may have more genuinely hated his guts, but Azula's the one that got under his skin.

Here's where I think the problem sets in. With Zuko being so popular, people are more willing to take his side in things. This includes Azula, which he sees as a rival and whatever sympathy he might have is stifled by his desire to "put her in her place". She's the primary enemy in his flashback in "Zuko Alone" despite Ozai being the one who actually set things off for his crappy upbringing. Now, there's no denying she's a villain and had to be stopped. But I think the fandom is a bit too willing to unconditionally take Zuko's word on it. This is despite the fact that the famous "born lucky, lucky to be born" quote was when he himself was a villain and he was griping to Aang about his problems.

Basically, by taking Zuko's opinion, we're assuming he's completely right and his version of Azula is reality. Even though this is the same kid who was willing to believe in the best in his dad until the eleventh hour. So his judgment can be askewed.

The same thing goes with Iroh. Again, there's that famous "she's crazy and she needs to go down" line people love to use to justify Azula being born evil or always being crazy. Expect, again, Iroh's not immune to biasism either. He paints Azula as the enemy, bt has nothing but regret for how things with Ozai fell out. He didn't even warn Zuko about who Ozai truly was.

Now, this isn't me clowning on either Zuko or Iroh. Zuko's a dumb kid who has a very messed up sense of morality for most of his life and Iroh's likely struggling with his own issues with Ozai. I wouldn't even put it past them to paint Azula in a negative light since they're going to run into her again, so it might be best to put aside sympathies so she doesn't kill them. At least for the time being. I don't agree with them, but I'm not going to say they're the worst people ever for it.

No, what I think the problem is that we very rarely see Azula's side of the story. We only see it in "The Beach" and the mirror scene. Here we see a character that's not a force of nature, but a conflicted girl about her own morality and whether or not she's a monster. She puts on a sarcastic face about it, but we can see it still eats her from the inside. And we see she does care about Ty Lee, Mai, and Zuko, even if she does a piss poor job of doing it.

This is where I think the controversy comes in: how sympathetic are we supposed to see Azula? We are meant to feel SOME sympathy, but not to the point that we can excuse her actions. Yet some take it the wrong way and say she's completely irredeemable and a monster just as bad as Ozai. Sure she's a villain that needed to be stopped, but putting her on the same level is a tad bit extreme (we are talking about a 14 year old girl compared to a grown ass man after all).

I think the disconnect comes from the fact that, again, we only see Azula through Iroh and Zuko's lenses. She's the villain in their eyes, an unstoppable force, and so we see the same thing. There's nothing really challenging that in the narrative outside of a few scenes. Azula never really gets the chance to express her side of the story, not even during the Last Agni Kai. And the few times she does like in the campfire scene? Nobody says word, validating her belief that she's saying the truth and that she's a monster.

Nobody challenges Zuko and Iroh on Azula, while nobody challenges Azula on her belief that she's a monster. Which is funny since Zuko and Iroh DO (at least initially) provide some possible sympathetic angles on Ozai (at least before he really became a monster). Zuko talks about how he wanted to get along with him. Iroh doesn't talk all that much ill about him at first. We even see his baby picture for crying out loud. So while we're meant to see Ozai as a tyrant and too far gone for any realistic chance of redemption, we're asked to wonder where he came from and raises the possibility that he wasn't always evil.

We don't get such challenges with Azula. She's only very rarely given sympathy. We're meant to feel sorry for her, but we're not given the whole story. We're given one side, and we're left scrambling to try and find out who she really is.

#azula #atla #princess azula #azula meta #zuko #iroh #atla iroh #avatar the last airbender #atla meta

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youryurigoddess · 1 year ago

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Gabriel’s (missing) cross

Let’s put everything we know about that spooky statue of the Archangel Gabriel in one thread to make the conversation about its possible meaning as a Good Omens 3 clue more structured. Starting off with the relevant part of the official commentary from X-Ray:

Douglas Mackinnon got one thing wrong in his part of the interview — Gabriel wasn’t carved by “some guy in Italy,” but a British sculptor and prop maker David Field working as a part of the team at 3DEye in London.

Technically speaking, it’s a gorgeous piece of hand-carved expanded polystyrene with a clay sculpted head on top of it — even if the Archangel’s smug likeness isn’t that pleasant to look at, all things considered. The scenic artists from 3DEye made it look like stone afterwards.

The body itself took ten days to sculpt and is a faithful copy of the famous statue on Ponte Sant'Angelo in Rome called Angel with the Cross by Ercole Ferrata. It stands on the inscription “Cuius principatus super humerum eius” (“Whose government shall be upon His shoulder”, Isaiah 9:16), and this quote makes much more sense for Gabriel than the cross in his hands. The usual iconography of the Archangel uses a trumpet or a white lily instead.

Ponte Sant'Angelo was originally used to expose the heads of those sentenced to death — each of the angelic statues on it carry Arma Christi, the Instruments of the Passion. Like the Second Coming, what seems to be a hopeful message to the Chosen Ones can also be a warning for the others.

The statue of Gabriel, first shown in full in the cemetery scene of the Good Omens 2 title sequence, reappears at the very end as a part of the bridge leading to the biggest Easter egg — at least according to Peter Anderson, the animator behind it — which is the lift in the background, implying how we’re getting closer towards the Second Coming. Notice how the cross broke down in half at some point between these two scenes!

And it disappears in the plot as well: Gabriel’s memory depicts it only from his point of view, with the camera deliberately moving slightly to the right and stopping at his eye level. The centered, establishing shots show the statue with empty hands as a bookend.

I believe that this cross is meant to serve as a foreshadowing, a reminder of the absolution of sins and eternal life through Christ’s sacrifice and Second Coming. We see it only through Gabriel and Aziraphale’s eyes — when Beelzebub looks at the statue, the cross is not there.

As seen in the BTS photos and videos, it’s not an editing error, but a deliberate positioning of the physical props on set. The cross was clearly meant to be a removable part of the statue and displayed in a specific way to convey a message to the audience.

The question remains: is it a reassurance, something to look forward to, or maybe rather a warning?

Not helpfully at all, the traditional use of angelic imagery in Christian cemeteries matches both interpretations.

#everything has a meaning #the good omens crew is unhinged #good omens props #archangel fucking gabriel #gabriel’s statue #good omens #good omens meta #yuri is doing her thing

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joyswonderland1108 · 3 months ago

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"Jikookers want what we have" a tragicomedy in 84 acts.

Ah yes. The cult has spoken again. That group of people so devoted to fanfiction they forgot they're not the actual authors of BTS' lives. I was just minding my own business scrolling on X and then i saw screenshots where they uttered the iconic phrase once more : "Jikookers want what we have"

And my immediate reaction is: You have what exactly?

Please, i beg, enlighten me. Educate me. Shine your flashlight of delusion upon my humble soul.

Do you mean:

The ability to look at two men in the same room and immediately start spinning a three-season k-drama script about a "secret marriage" that somehow survived a full military enlistment gap and multiple obvious real-life interactions that contradict your entire fantasy?

The audacity to claim that literally everything Jikook do is either "fanservice", "coincidence" or "they were forced to do it by the company" .. but when tk breathe the same air, it's "soulmate proof" and "date night"?

The unique talent of opening your eyes, seeing Jikook's entire interactions unfold like the final scene of a romantic film, and still going, "Nope. That's just brotherly love. Jungkook actually flew to that city for someone else."?

And let’s not forget the true crime-level sleuthing they do with pixelated photos and background objects. Like that time they saw a Christmas tree with the Wooga squad and immediately declared, “That’s it. That’s Jungkook. He was there.” Just.. a tree. A tree. Not a hand. Not a sleeve. Not a voice. A TREE. And the confidence? Unmatched.

Or when a blurry reflection shows up in a spoon, and suddenly it’s “Jungkook was clearly there. That’s his left earlobe from 2019, I would know it anywhere.” Girl..

They’ve mistaken staff members, shadows, pets, and possibly furniture for Jungkook. At this point, if someone breathes near a member of the Wooga squad, they’re like, “He’s there. He's hiding behind the lamp. That lamp is his disguise.

🧍‍♀️Be serious.

You have what? A religious devotion to editing Jikook clips and pics out of existence OR turning them into.. something else so you can post your 8-second gifs as a "proof"?

A Photoshop degree in manufacturing matching accessories that they never actually wore? A deep-rooted fear of 4K footage? A library full of plotlines that have not been updated since 2019?

Because baby, while you're out here reading a version of events that got invalidated faster than a Weverse life replay gets deleted, we're over here crying, throwing up, and questioning our own existence watching actual moments of intimacy, care, tension, fondness, push-pull dynamics, micromovements, looks that scream "I dare you to say that in public", and lips that do not lie.

Your people are defecting babes. They're not even silent about it. We've seen it. "I feel sad, i can't breathe, i will take a break because i don't know if i believe in them any longer after this", "Okay but if MY ship did what THEY did i'd be in a coma"

Exactly. You'd be in a coma. Meanwhile Jikookers are here with two IV bags of emotional damage and still managing to function (barely).

Let's talk about how your entire structure collapses when:

Jungkook calls Jimin "Jimin-ssi" with that look.

Jimin calls Jungkook "Baby" on camera.

Jungkook tells Jimin he gives him butterflies.

Jimin calling Jungkook "Hyung" with the most teasing smugness known to mankind and Jungkook malfunctions on the spot.

Jungkook sits and stares at Jimin content during his lives without blinking.

Jimin sings Jungkook's solo, doing his moves the way a man who memorized it for "reasons" would.

Meanwhile you're out there hanging your entire thesis on "they once went to the same restaurant with different people on different days but what if they actually met up?"

We don't want what you have.

WE DO NOT WANT UNHINGED THEORIES AND PERMANENT COPIUM.

What we do want is peace, peace from you twisting Jikook's actions like it's your career.

Peace from you posting "this proves nothing" under every video that shows more chemistry than a K-drama final kiss.

Peace from you crying "company script" every time Jungkook chooses to speak about Jimin with his entire chest and a suspicious sparkle in his eyes.

Let me be clear:

We don't want what you have because.. There's nothing there to want. It's like going to a buffet and finding a single ice cube and being told "this is a gourmet".

So no. We’re good. We’re full.

We're over here eating with trembling hands, yes, but we’re EATING.

Stay in your cave of denial where 2017 screenshots are still considered "recent," and please stop acting like we’re jealous of a headcanon when we’ve got receipts, replay buttons, and regret.(because the intensity of it all is emotionally destructive and yet we keep coming back).

Thank you for your time.

Back to your regularly scheduled delusion.

#minkook #jikook #kookmin #leave the tree out of this #this is a jikook safe space

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jikooklove9795 · 1 month ago

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Helloooo! I loveee Jk and Jimin. Actually I love all 7 of them. They are interesting individuals and immensely talented as a group. My question is about Jikook. I watched hickeygate (very funny and iconic moment in their story). I have seen other pics of JK with hickeys but zero for Jimin??? What gives??? Hahahaha

Hi 😊

Yes! BTS is incredibly special. Their sincerity and strength have created a lasting impact that goes far beyond music. I'm so glad I got to know about them!

Now, let's dive into your ask! Ready?

So you're saying Jimin is the giver? Well, let's see. We have seen him kiss Jungkook's neck several times. But here's the real kicker, the two times Jungkook was undeniably spotting hickeys it was Jungkook himself who pointed it out. So, it is more like Jungkook loves to draw attention to the fact that Jimin leaves marks on his body.

The first time we saw a hickey on Jungkook was in that car pic, back in December 2016. And get this: he was the one who posted it. We wouldn't have known about this otherwise.

Back to the pic, Jungkook's sitting there with a dazed, sultry expression, and boom, a very obvious hickey on his neck.

And here’s where it gets even more interesting. Remember that Dec 2016 Jinjikook VLive? Toward the end, Jimin asks if he can leave to go to his room with the phone while still on live but Jin says no since he borrowed that phone for that particular live. You can actually see Jimin seriously contemplating running off with it anyway. And you can see how Jungkook pulls out his own phone already anticipating what Jimin's gonna do.

Jimin tries to bolt, but Jungkook holds him back by the waist. And here’s the hilarious part, Jimin turns around and asks Jin why he’s holding him back, even though he clearly knows it’s Jungkook. Yeah, Jimin let's make it more obvious with you acting oblivious.

Then Jungkook says, “I took a good selfie,” and pulls up a pic on his phone

As soon as Jimin sees it, he changes instantly. Like, zero hesitation. He says, “I won’t go.” Just like that. Jungkook, looking smug, doesn’t even show the pic to the fans after all that hype. The live ends but the chaos doesn't.

Because later that night, Jungkook posts that exact pic on BTS' official X acc. The one with the dazed, sultry look and the hickey front and center

At that point, do we need to guess who gave him that hickey? The way Jungkook used that pic to make Jimin stay and the way Jimin instantly backed down? That pic said everything.

The second time Jungkook was spotted with a hickey, he didn't want to play the code game anymore. So, he flat-out said who gave it to him. If he didn’t want us to know, he easily could’ve covered it up, brushed it off as a mosquito bite, or joked it away. But no, that’s not what he wanted.

He wanted us to know it was from Jimin.

Because seriously, what was he thinking, showing up to rehearsals together with Jimin, proudly displaying that hickey like a badge of honor, and then casually explaining the whole backstory? A very gay backstory at that. And let’s not forget: he wouldn’t even let anyone else touch it. Only Jimin.

There's no other explanations to it. Jungkook wasn’t just marked — he was thriving in it. It’s like he wanted to say, “Yeah. He did this. And I’m not just okay with it — I love it.”

Jungkook operates on a whole different level when it comes to Jimin. Quietly (not really) bold. Undeniably soft. And just a little reckless in love.

Jungkook wearing Jimin's mark isn't limited to the above moments. It's a whole lifestyle.

1) Bringing back how Jungkook plucked those J and M balloons out of PAJAMA PARTY and stuck it to his chest. Went to Jimin, stood in front of him and said J M, Jimin

youtube

2) A few weeks after the above moment he gets tattoos. First, he gets the ARMY tattoo and then later he gets the J. Let's talk about that beautifully unhinged decision to place that J right on top of the M. Intentionally stacked so that when anyone reads it, it says ARMY, JM. I lost count on the innumerable times he's flexed it.

3) And those JM tattoos? Notice how they're, darker, bolder, standing out among the others. That's emphasis. That's priority. That's love permanently engraved and unapologetically visible.

4) Remember Jimin's name written across Jungkook's abs with sunscreen. He looked like a walking love letter. But what really seals the deal is his face. Glowing, lit up. The boy is radiant and we know exactly why.

He carries Jimin. Flaunts him. Wears him like art. And makes damn sure the world doesn't miss it.

5) Jimin giving his ring to Jungkook and Jungkook wearing it

6) Jungkook wearing Jimin's earring

Just little pieces of his bf. Shared, worn and loved.

7) Remember White Day 2022? We all saw that pic of Jimin and Jungkook dining at a restaurant together with Jimin's friends, right? Well, in that pic Jungkook is seen wearing a cap. And we have seen Jimin wear a cap like that. The cap which had "Jimin" written at the back. So, it's either Jimin's cap which Jungkook was wearing that night or both of them have customized caps like that. But looking at the above patterns, I'm leaning towards the first assumption.

8) Jungkook wearing the shirt which was a bday gift for Jimin from one of his fansites

9) Jungkook has a moon cycle featured in his

My You video

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On the cover of his Me, Myself & Jungkook photo card and also on the Time Difference photo coaster

And we all know it’s Park Jimin who has a moon phase tattoo on his back.

Honorary mention: Jimin's name written on Jungkook's ear piece.

10) How are we not supposed to talk about this moment? Jimin lands in NY, and not long after, they're at a restaurant for dinner together with staff and crew. And then this comes crashing in

Jungkook, looking absolutely radiant, smiling like he’s just had the best time of his life... and spotting scratches on his torso.

He’s glowing. Thriving. Giving off serious "I had an amazing time with my bf".

And let’s not pretend we don’t remember the details. Jimin, freshly waxed and flying out of SK to spend a few days of quality time with his bf. By the time he reached NY it was Silver Day in SK.

And we all remember how Jungkook couldn't stop touching those legs in AYS, don't we?!

Those scratches were the aftermath of their well spent couple's time.

And here's a pic of Jimin's nails

This is how he maintains them. Long enough to leave those scratches Jungkook's torso was decorated with.

Why would Jungkook want the world to know that its Jimin who left those marks on him?

Jungkook’s love language more often than not isn't verbal. Instead it's gestures, actions and attention. It's how he lingers near, how he chooses to stand next to that person and how he let's his actions speak for him.

To reveal something that personal, like a hickey, a shared moment, or even just naming Jimin in that context takes trust.

Trust that their connection is solid enough to handle the weight of public gaze.

Trust that what they share behind closed doors is strong enough that no rumor, no camera, no stray comment can shake it.

When Jungkook openly links something so intimate to Jimin, it’s not just affection — it’s a quiet declaration. He’s saying "This is someone I feel safe with. This bond — it’s real. You might not see all of it, but I live in it every day.”

That kind of trust isn’t casual. It’s built slowly, in private moments, through quiet understanding, shared vulnerability, and emotional safety.

So when Jungkook lets us see even a hint of that intimacy, it means the foundation is deep. Solid. Unshakable.

Because what they have? It’s not a performance. It’s theirs.

Now let’s talk about Jimin. It's not just Jimin who leaves his marks on Jungkook but it goes the other way too. There are actually two moments where I noticed marks on him.

One being this

I'm aware that Jimin went through his appendix surgery. The surgery was on Jan 31st and this concert was on April. This dark patch in the pic spans a wider area than a surgery scar. It looks more diffuse and not linear or surgical in shape. It also sits a bit higher on the waist than where a appendix incision scar is to be expected. This is my own conclusion. You can draw your own opinion.

And then the other time being this

It's always on the moles. So, just like Jimin, Jungkook also likes to leave his marks on the moles. Interesting.

This is from the ARMY membership live.

This is one of my most favorite moments from this live

Here, Jimin was asking Jungkook what he wanted for his upcoming bday and this was how Jungkook responded. This moment gives me flashbacks about the "Do you have a desire, Jungkook?" And how he points to Jimin and then proceeds to explain that he believes we know what he's implying.

Alright, I'll wrap it up here.

Thank you for sending this ask. I loved answering it!

Take care 👋🏻

#jikook #kookmin #jungkook #jimin #ask

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kanmom51 · 11 months ago

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Are you sure?! Jeju - Episode 5

And here you have it ladies and gentlemen.

Jikook KNEW they were enlisting together back at the end of September 2023!!!

Let's have a look at the conversation and talk about a couple of things I noticed.

End of September they knew they were enlisting within give or take a couple of months. Not a huge secret, as most of us already concluded by that point, that all 4 remaining members would be enlisting by the end of 2023 (and when I say we I mean the non delusional JK solos that wanted him to do things he himself didn't want to do and that NEVER listened to what JK was telling us throughout the year).

Now the thing that I noticed.

JM is talking about this as a done deal.

One that Tae knew about.

He's not delivering news to Tae, he's just confirming that he knows they are serving together.

And the thing is that from their conversation it appears that they have discussed their decision to enlist together with the other members (not Tae).

From JM:

From JK:

And Tae...

This is obviously the first time they have discussed this with him.

Isn't that a little strange though? Tae hearing about this for the first time here? Not having the same kind of discussion with them about their joint enlistment before Jeju? Before the decision and it being a done deal? (not with his 'husband' nor his 'soulmate')

The feeling I get, and don't come at me for this, is that as much as Tae was trying to show throughout the show just how close he is to JM (not JK), how well he knows him, how much Alone represents him, how much he cares for him, that as it happens, in real life they are most definitley not as close as they used to be. Are they friends? Of course they are. Are they good friends? I do believe they are. Are they super close, involved in each others lives, know about their schedules, music, wants, needs, plans (short and long term)? Involved in those plans or turn to each other for advice regarding said plans? I think that the answer to that one would be an astounding NO. Especially coming from JM's side. I mean, read between the lines. JM didn't even know Tae liked Alone.

It's obvious that Jikook are all that for each other, but that's kind of a given, right? But that supposed closeness that the fandom was always all about between JM and Tae, the 'soulmates' - that is just not there. Sorry not sorry (for bursting some people's dreams and delusions).

It is obvious that the Jikook have discussed their decision to enlist together with Jin and the other older members. It is also obvious that they didn't have that kind of discussion with Tae before making that joint decision.

It is what it is.

(And what exactly does that say about JK and Tae's level of closeness? Will the cult claim that this is also all scripted? So Tae is part of this malicious conspiracy?, questions I will not bother answering, yuck)

And it is obvious that the two had thought this our thoroughly and had dismissed the concerns, knowing each other, knowing how strong they are together, knowing how much they needed (physically and mentally) to not be pulled apart for the 18 months of their military service.

Don't they fight? Well of course they do. But their relationship is so solid that they know how to deal with conflict and overcome it. Not to mention the elephant in the room... yo, Jin, they aren't just friends and you know it, lol. But seriously, even if this was only about a friendship, you can't compare the two of them with everything they have been through together as BTS, as Jikook within BTS, to other good 'normal' friendships.

And perhaps this is it. The reason why they are such a strong loving couple. It's been a while since I've talked about this. Having such a strong friendship as a base to their relationship is what makes the relationship so solid. Falling in love with a close friend, someone you know through and through, for all their good and their bad, seeing them at their best and at their worst and still falling for them... that makes for some shit strong relationship.

Point being, other than knowing just how strong their relationship is, to all the haters out there - you can scream until you are blue in the face, claim they are not together, claim they split up, claim they hate each other, claim they were snatched by aliens, same same, for all intents and purposes - those two are unbreakable. Either get with the program or fuck the hell off.

He knew what he was talking about.

*The translation is just of the first part of the letter.

That was them doing the serious.

And then, as always, they just had to go unserious on us, lol.

But you see, that's exactly how those two are. And that is one of the strengths of their relationship. The level of intimacy they have is off the charts, sticking together through good and bad, coming out on the other side stronger than ever.

To end their discussion we have this:

Yeah, they are 'loving' having to enlist...

NOT!!!

But at least they managed to soften the blow and are doing this together!!!

One last comment before I end this one.

We talked about how it was showing that JK had a weight lifted off his shoulders. He was just lighter. Happier. Even with Tae there, lol. And it was kind of funny to see this, seeing that JK was knee deep into his solo work and just before his promotions for 3D and then Golden. But JK in Jeju was not the same as JK in CT. And now we know why!!

#Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #Jimin #JK #JM #Are you sure? Jikook #Are you sure? Jeju

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sgiandubh · 6 months ago

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Prophetic

Every single time things look hard to decipher or farcical (and this is one of those farcical times), I remember a long post by @hardblazesong, dealing with BTS aspects and the intricacies of this cesspool of a fandom. I am yet to read something more clear and more bravely stated than the things she wrote almost eight years (!) ago, even if I do not necessarily agree with everything. Especially as far as SC's sexuality is considered and examined, for example - but that is secondary, to me.

Every word in this quoted passage was confirmed by what happened next, for example. And then, some more, if at all possible:

This is exactly what happened, rinse and repeat to oblivion. 'No one above D level status', with the odd lap dancer/Hooters waitress thrown in, for variety. Gross? Effective on the short term perhaps, to quench thirsty/insistent/too close to the real thing rumors and found tidbits, yet damn penalizing on the long run. MPC's dwindling subscription figures are testimony to it, as are the mediocre projects coming his way. And now he sorely needs a seriously good one to keep his rep at a decent level. You see, the entire kilt-cladded, warrior daddy imagery/fantasy is also quietly wearing off, as OL is coming to its merciful end. But believe it or not, S will survive even this life-changing experiment with fame. The key question here is 'how' and I have no definitive answer to it. But I am confident, and this Soroptimist approach of mine will always be my guilty pleasure, as far as S is concerned. Perhaps the only one, since the guy won't ever make me turn my head for him in the street. Not even sorry about that. But as I have already told you, I do like an underdog and know how to spot them, when I see one.

Now, as far as C is concerned, the 'low key thing' turned into the perfectly artificial farce we all know about. It is my sincere belief at least 85% of her Taliban Stan crowd is simply paying lip service to what they chose to believe and are constantly being reminded of by their trolling Sopranos. So much so, in fact, that it all reeks rather of Pollyannaism than critical thinking, no matter how brutal or self-assured they may sound. And at this point in time, with zero communication on the topic and C who apparently DGAF about narrative continuity when it comes to this, it's only fair to say more oil is being quietly, constantly thrown onto those embers of suspicion and legitimate, logical doubt.

As for going political, we all saw what happened with S's Gaza comment, didn't we? Case in point to never cross obvious red lines and allow your own emotions get in a mix you cannot control and which must not have been addressed, to start with. Especially when you are, above anything else, a media product manufactured on purpose for reaching the widest potential audience. MAGA Mommies crowd included.

Also, this:

Again, this is exactly what happened, and consistently so. Proof of this are the multiple times I had to excuse myself to powder my nose in the middle of a Zoom call or meeting, whenever my cellphone was blinking with concerned messages about this or that insignificant turn of an apparently endless, boring and disingenuous AF narrative. Shippers are worried and potentially even hurt every single time a Fitness Harem representative shows up on the roster. S knows that - how could he not, he is part and parcel of it? Trolls know that: in fact, this is their bread and butter in this fandom. And the reason this happens is an unnecessarily cruel and by now pathetic bout of schizophrenic trivia deliberately being thrown in, from time to time, for... eh... for reasons. Whether this is for 'protection' (complete quiet would be way more decent and effective, I think) or diversion, or remaining relevant, or even shits and giggles is entirely secondary, one more time. These allow to address all the factions of this fandom at once, using what are by now some lazy, well-tried and accessible plot devices (SM twisting reality, cheap pap walks, timeline innuendos, etc). Again, this is wrong and harmful, in the long run. It is refusing to see the forest for the trees and completely ignore the fact this is building the wrong persona and the wrong brand. Back to that sore need for a really good project I have mentioned before and own reasoning nicely tied in, thank you.

As for how SC feel about us, shippers, I suppose things are clear. I don't think they like us, and to be blunt, how could they? Mistakes have been repeatedly made, especially when it comes to projecting going completely, tastelessly out of control, the hyper sexualization and objectivation of both S and C (naively dirty fanfic, anyone? come on, we all read it!) and the liberties some took with decency, as far as C is particularly concerned. And by this, I don't mean stalking - that is pushing Covfefe Pics really too far and being a perfect hypocrite about it, when we know the entire faction was demanding proof, on many tones & in many ways and kept on pressuring for something along those lines to happen. To me, however, the most toxic part of it was definitely Jess' unfortunate drooling all over someone else's love story. It definitely had an impact and it was definitely been used as such, until it wasn't. The rest of all that obsessive approach are just spin-offs, but the bad seeds were gleefully planted there and then.

Before landing here, I carefully weighed in my options. And I chose to be primarily interested in business and legal paperwork simply because it so happened that an irritated reaction while on an Athens taxi ride prompted my arrival here. Then I realized it was the only way to bring something new to an already stalling body of public lore and keep it simple and real. What I did discover and what the trolls across the street chose to dismiss as trash is, in fact, evidence enough of the chasm that exists between what people are being served and supposed to gobble up, no questions asked, and a reality that certainly is more nuanced. This is what really makes me tick and this is why I am still here, while there are so many more useful and enjoyable ways to keep myself busy.

Rest assured, though: I am not going anywhere, even if from time to time life and a very strenuous job take precedence. I hope you can understand this. In the meanwhile, you have been so many witty, kind and warm people coming along my path, that I would feel like betraying you (and myself!) if I went away. And no, I have never felt more sure about SC than probably now, even if this 'SC' doesn't necessarily coincide with your own version of that saga.

Newbies can read the entire @hardblazesong's post here: https://www.tumblr.com/hardblazesong/678440162606350336/the-time-has-come-shipsters-to-write-a-lengthy?source=share

Thank you for reading this very long comment, summing up all the thoughts that nagged me while I was simultaneously translating and slaloming between my two mother tongues, while in Tunis. I am rather good at compartmentalization, you see. This post is also a clumsy homage of sorts to all the brilliant, brave and bold women, past and present, of The Shire, who have tried and managed to see beyond the thick veil of deceit this entire #shitshow is. The fact so many of us, across so many cultures and personal circumstances, saw the same damn thing and questioned it with integrity and wit, should be arresting evidence there are more things.

PS: I think we can all agree on the fact the Biggest Troll in this fandom is 'Erself, the Flip-Flop Blue Nailpolish Goddess. But that's a different story.

#fandom #shitshow #PR #business #marketing

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majkuindelululand · 1 month ago

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Park Jimin vs Stereotypes, Part 1. Mulan Was Right.

Today I should be cleaning my apartment, packing for a week by the lake, and getting my kid ready for a week with the grandparents. So naturally, I’m writing a post about Jimin. Because I can. Who’s going to stop me?

It started innocently enough a few years ago, when I was trying to figure out why I had a problem with Jimin—but not with any other BTS member. That search led me to some phenomenal YouTube videos about Park Jimin. Yep, I fell down the rabbit hole, and honestly? I like it here. I’ve made myself comfortable. Now let me give you a tour.

To help me write this post, I used ChatGPT. For many reasons—mostly because I enjoy intelligent conversations, but also because it answers my questions fast enough that I can spend more time asking more questions. Before discovering this magical tool, I used to spend hours trying to track down the answers myself.

My question to Chat was: Please find the main stereotypes about Park Jimin.

And here’s what I got in the first batch of answers:

1. Jimin is the cute, sweet, innocent baby of BTS.

I love dismantling this one. First of all: WTH?!

Healthline lists the average global height for adult men as approximately 171 cm (5'7.5"). Even if you lean toward MedicineNet’s estimate of 173 cm (5'8.1"), Jimin is, at worst, average height. He is not short. He just isn’t.

And now that we’ve smashed the myth of him being "tiny," let’s move on to juicier stuff.

Let’s talk about his "innocence." And to that I say: just a few titles—"Lie," "Set Me Free pt.2," "Filter," and "Black Swan." Do I need to say more? Didn’t think so.

Yes, Jimin does enjoy being the aegyo specialist of the group. He pulls it off beautifully, because he has a soft boyish charm that suits it. But! There’s a reason people watching his performances often need to take a break and walk around the room afterward. That man leaves an impression.

"Innocent" is not the word I’d use to describe Park Jimin. Have you noticed how he’s often the first to catch on when something has a suggestive tone? We hear double meanings from him more than anyone else, and he knows exactly what he’s doing. On stage, he’s a wild beast—and he’s fully aware of it.

2. Jimin is the weak, delicate, crybaby type.

Um… yeah. We do have plenty of examples of Jimin crying. He cries in public, admits he cries in private, and doesn’t hide the fact that he has emotions. Emotions can be intense. Every BTS member has a crying story—onstage or backstage. They’re artists, which means they’re naturally more sensitive and emotionally open than most. Speaking as an artist myself: sometimes a full-on emotional breakdown followed by a crying session is more productive than anything else.

But that’s not the point here.

The point is—Park Jimin doesn’t cry more than the others. He’s just had some emotional moments that got a louder reaction. That doesn’t make the math any different.

And again—none of that really matters.

What matters is what Jimin does with his emotions. Where others might spiral into hyperfixation or get paralyzed by feelings, Jimin turns them into momentum.

Let’s look at his career. He started late, got less support, and BigHit didn’t quite know what to do with him at first—though they knew they wanted him (rightly so). Somehow, he not only found his rhythm, but became a crucial part of the group. After debut, he became a small phenomenon. People were raving about his dance skills from the beginning.

Later, when he faced waves of hate (a standard part of the K-pop industry, sadly), instead of crumbling, withdrawing, or conforming, Jimin doubled down. He proved his style and presence weren’t weaknesses. He made his persona into a BTS signature. In my humble opinion? He simply refused to be crushed and leveled up his entire being.

Do you remember Mulan II? Early in the film, Mulan sings about the duality of a good warrior. That’s exactly what I see in Jimin. Sometimes unmoving as a rock. Sometimes bending like bamboo.

Which brings us to:

3. Jimin is a flirt/seducer/always flirting.

No argument here. I honestly believe this man could seduce a pillow and succeed.

But here’s the key—it’s mostly on stage. In the spotlight, he’s a beast. That’s his performance persona. Off stage? Jimin doesn’t seem to be a big fan of fanservice.

His interactions are consistent. He has members he’s clearly closer to, and his boundaries in those relationships are distinct. Sure, they evolve over time, but they’re steady. We’ve got his... uh... whatever that is with JK. That sweet friendship with Hoseok. The spicy thing with Yoongi. A close bond with Namjoon. Oh god—there’s a lot. Which leads to another stereotype Chat gave me:

4. Jimin has no personality. He changes depending on who he’s with.

I could talk about neurodivergence here—because it’s familiar territory—but I won’t armchair-diagnose anyone. What I can say is: Jimin has exceptional social and emotional intelligence.

He can read people. He knows when to step back or stand firm. He’s good at sensing boundaries. Maybe that’s why he avoids over-the-top fanservice? Or maybe he just genuinely understands others well?

The other members often mention his kindness, thoughtfulness, selflessness, and ability to comfort others. Jimin is the designated hug master.

To earn that title, you have to be a bit of an emotional chameleon. But that’s not the same as being fake or lacking identity. Jimin adapts to people’s needs. He becomes who they need in the moment. He doesn’t shout—he listens.

But that doesn’t mean he submits. What he shows is professionalism and leadership. He’ll suppress his own impulses to maintain harmony—but at other times, he’ll firmly steer the mood himself. And when he does? He’s assertive, stubborn, and sassy as fuck. And he pulls it off. People around him go along with it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be so frequently mentioned by his members.

5. Jimin is too feminine / not manly enough.

Oh boy. Let’s call this what it is—homophobia. Or, if you prefer, plain old misogyny.

Again, I’m reminded of that Mulan song.

Jimin’s duality in this area honestly gives me back problems from how often I’m floored by it.

We have this guy—delicate, small compared to other members, with softer features, who looks amazing in pastels, and seems to attract flowers like a Disney princess. Oh—and he has the voice of an angel. Definitely higher than what’s traditionally expected from a man.

But this same guy? Martial arts champion. Top of the class in military training. Endurance like a camel in the desert. And he can shut you down with one look.

Other BTS members have said that Jimin (and Hoseok) are downright terrifying when they’re mad.

Is he weak? Not really. Jimin plays weak—and that’s his signature. The raised arms with "JK, lift me!", the helpless chip bag struggle. But surprise! It’s all an act.

Jimin stepped into the "delicate boy" role in the stereotypical group dynamic—the one JK used to occupy as the youngest. JK didn’t want it. Jimin didn’t seem to mind. So he let the group cocoon him in care and admiration—but never showed it was anything other than a conscious choice for his stage identity.

There’s also this idea that Jimin is clumsy. But really? Nah. Namjoon is the destruction god. JK can trip over air. Jimin? He once kicked himself in the head. That’s not clumsiness. That’s an overachieving body. There’s a lot of power in that seemingly small frame—and sometimes it slips out.

So is it bad that Jimin built a persona around all this? No. It actually feels more natural than his early-debut attempts at being a macho man. Jimin thought long and hard about who he wants to be, how he wants to be perceived, and who he truly is. And that equation? It adds up to one thing:

Mulan was right.

#Mulan was right #Disney princess Park Jimin #Jimin analysis #Jimin duality #Park Jimin #BTS #Jimin

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werezmastarbucks · 19 days ago

Text

15. saplings

flowers over boys masterlist

in which you learn why the staff has been avoiding you like death

word count: 3527

warnings: if you don't clutch your pearls i am retiring

"i advise you to lock her up for the duration of the games".

"i am literally here", your hands fall down. you've been adjusting the azalea petals, but Hoseok just has a way to destroy any concentration you have for a task. Yoongi raises his hand to shush you.

"the yangban are coming, and she will embarrass you in front of them".

Jimin is having a field day. his arms on his chest, he's not wearing the mask because the only people in the throne room - are you, king, Hoseok and Jungkook.

"no, i promise", you start, and Jimin bites his lip and chokes his laughter. the boy is glowing when there's some shit going down, he is in love with nonsense.

"i won't do anything embarrassing", for once, you are ready to plead sincerely. you really want to see the games. you have not sweated and suffered for three days on a tall, old ladder, wobbling, swaying, perched on the fucking roof, under the blazing sun, with Jungkook "backing you up" most of the day, with his annoying comments; not to attend the games. you have decorated two levels of the roof, cut all your fingers with the needles, you now have dreams about the ladder and the morning glory. and this piece of ass wants to lock you up and ban from the action.

"i will be quiet", you promise, looking at him and Yoongi. Jungkook's eyebrows are raised. Yoongi is not convinced yet.

"i really wanna see this. i will only cheer, yeah? i can cheer, right? for Jungkooki- for Jungkook. but i promise, i will behave this time. hey, i was the one who decorated the whole pavilion".

Jimin sniffs shortly with a smile.

"avoid the risk", Hoseok suggests. "even now as she begs, her arms are bare".

you look at your arms. yeah, rolled up the sleeves so that they don't get in the way. you stare at the General in disbelief.

"hey, saboteur", you step to Hoseok, rolling your sleeves down slowly. he strands you at his side, his gaze returning to his beloved wang.

Yoongi is sitting on the first step of his platform, just like you did some time ago. you keep the flogging jokes away, tuck them deep and shut them out. his horsetail is over his shoulder, and he looks relaxed. he tilts head to the left, then to the right. you are quite used to his eyes roaming about you. it's non-suggestive in nature but obviously you take it personally. he is so good-looking your teeth hurt.

"Yoongi, look at me".

"i am".

"i won't embarrass you in front of your friends".

Hoseok sighs.

"i will just watch the games from the crowd, i won't even be in the vicinity".

"you will stand out anyway", Jungkook snorts. "i mean it in a good way".

maybe Yoongi is simply in a good mood.

"let her", Jimin chimes in. he doesn't really care about the reputation, he simply likes to stir shit.

"i will be by Seokjin's side..."

"no, you will be with your garden crew, as it is orderly", Yoongi says.

"fine. i'll be with the girls".

you know you will find Jin regardless. he will repeat anything you tell him. he will cheer for the golden maknae with you. knowing that Jungkook actually will participate, that he actually made his way across the country and visited, and has been training in order to participate, makes it absolutely out of question whether you will see it. it's not run bts; it's idols olypmics.

Yoongi shifts his misty, opaque cat eyes to Jimin who is snickering by the window. by the way. yes. the king looks orgasmic in between magnolias.

"maybe she should participate", he muses lazily, "in the poetry competition".

Jungkook gasps like a child, his hand on his mouth. Jimin loses it completely, dropping his head on his chest. Hoseok simply loses braincells. you are confused.

"what is that? i am not too good at poetry".

Yoongi shrugs at his childhood friend.

"finally something we know that you do not", Jungkook calls from behind, "feels good".

Jimin's fingers claw at his face. you feel like the butt of the joke but it's mellow. Hoseok isn't having it either. he looks down, stylishly defeated.

on the day of the games almost nobody works. the palace is buzzing. staff keeps sweeping already clean roads in between pavilions, scrubbing the floors of the corridors that already gleam with the morning sun. it smells like incense everywhere, inside and outside. the huge round bonfires on both sides of the main gate are lit, and it gets so hot in that spot, that people run through quickly. as they enter the palace, they see the decorated main yard and pass by the long side paths to the west of grounds, where the purple-green pavilion glistens in the sun, and it makes you proud of your work. after all the suffering you've gone through in the last three days, you think it was worth it. people look with their mouths open and shuffle noisily, taking their places in front of the building. there's talk, and colour; everybody is wearing their prettiest dresses, hair slicked back shines in the sun; there are powdered, blushing faces everywhere. the garden crew is keeping you in the middle of a tight circle and you all move like a bunch of organized turtles, like someone had warned them to keep you in check. Jiyoung is at your side: she smells like flowers and breathes deeply. she mutters into your ear sometimes; don't look up too eagerly; this is yangban Han. he will ascend to the balcony and will watch together with king. he has four wives. she nods in small motions to move your attention, trying to distract you, to keep you silent: see orange robes? they have arrived all the way from Jeonju. they are our king's distant relatives. orange means faded gold. you think there's not enough space on the balcony for everybody to watch the games with the king: you decorated it the last thing the day before yesterday. in a fit of hatred, you also put one dark anemone you found on the side of the road outside the market, to the inner side of the banister to let him know one day you will beat him up. anemones are... sincerely open and so round, simple, they strangely remind you of yourself. this is one is also purple, of course.

today the mood is much better. square is buzzing. the sun comes in and out, warms the place up, people keep moving, divided into fractions by colour and belonging. young people from the whole country gather to demonstrate their strength, and you assess them; it's mostly the elite, rich kids, princes and yangbans, and Jungkook is among them. the Hanseong contestants all wear purple (you are reminded like once a week that Seoul has a different official name for now, by the annoyed garden maids). they make up the most of the players, sometimes even competing between each other.

"is this a way to replenish the palace warrior stock?" you wonder.

"no. it's just games to celebrate the harvest. of course, some take it very seriously..." Jiyoung's eyes rest on Jungkook's back for a second as she chuckles. the Monkey Prince is in the middle of the square, surrounded by peers and competition, stretching. aside from preparing the muscles, it's also supposed to intimidate the others when he does a flip from the standing spot for no reason at all.

"protecting the wang image".

"you're right", she nods.

a little commotion, and the place gets into relative order. Jiyoung says hi and you turn to see Seokjin with his hair in the knot on the back of his head, shining brighter than everybody here. he gives you a lazy, graceful smile.

"is Taehyung competing?" you ask.

"yes. sword. the Prince will do running, sparring and battle".

"and General?"

"General doesn't compete", Jin reposnds, "but i will kill everybody at Gonggi".

"like you did last year?" his sister laughs.

"forget about it. past is past", Jin dismisses confidently, "Seokjin for the win".

"team Kim Seokjin never loses", you chime in, your eyes on the square, observing the young people preparing to tear each other apart. you spot Taehyung in his purple kimono-like robe, looking very focused, like he doesn't hear anything around himself.

"even if it consists of just one person", Jin agrees.

the first game is sword competition. it resembles a dance more. you make sure several times that you are not allowed to cheer loudly, a balcony full of incredibly important people above you. king is in a dark-red robe with bright golden stamp of a serpent. there are several people at his side, some of them grab the banisters as they watch, and break the vines you had placed there.

Taehyung moves like the air itself supports him, and he doesn't need to land. like gravity is some hoe he is too good for. just like Prince and the king, he uses his hair to enhance his movements, to make him look like a bird. the competitors do not touch each other; it's not a fight but a demonstration of skill. and there's no point comparing; there was a reason Taehyung was chosen to present the king's warriors. he is like a ghost. you are not surprised. others? yes. people ouch, ohh and gasp, but you know the boy and the way his body moves.

that came out worse that it was supposed to.

Taehyung wins, beautiful, bashful, the fastest and the most flexible. the judges in different-coloured robes choose him over everybody else, and the palace crowd erupts in cheer that you happily pick up. you are really trying to keep your word and not stand out, so you use this moment to let out your support for him, screaming his name.

next, the whole crowd shifts and leaves the pavilion to enter the large sand field behind the palace. you realize it's a kind of a running track when several boys, Jungkook among them, step to the sand. spectators hum with anticipation, heads turning, as they look at the boys. all tall, slender, lean; could do a calendar. in the growing worry of the crowd, you cup your hands to your mouth and yell once, sharply,

"bangtan!"

Jungkook's head snaps to the viewers and he lowers it immediately.

should it be mentioned that he wins. Jungkook keeps winning the whole day, in all three competitions that he participates in, because he has a pride to protect, because he has been trained by Yoongi and Hoseok. because he is golden. you look up to the balcony on the other side of the pavilion and see his hyungs standing shoulder by shoulder, their faces smirking in the most shit-eating way.

young men compete in speed, might and wit, climbing uprooted trunks, jumping, sparring with no tops on (kind of extra), doing something that looks like wrestling. you notice that the purple warriors are all taller, buffer, more capable. it would make sense that the king's crew consists of the best fighters from the whole country, especially with a reaper like Hoseok to train them. they win the majority of the games and you can see the yangban guests being pissed, disappointed, shaking their heads. it brings you a special kind of cognitive satisfaction to see people from other cities. how they walk, how they avoid looking at the king directly, what they say. Jungkook finishes the game of battle, a repetition of the exercise you've seen him do long time ago, by absolutely destroying twelve people, and bows to his uncle, panting, furious, with the healthy blush on his face that would earn him the world. you hear the voice coming from the balcony.

"for the next year i need to spike my boys with the sapaieo salmusa venom. Monkey seems to be unbeatable".

"sapphire viper?" you ask Jiyoung, "is that a thing?"

you disperse agitated, still a whole big body of the audience, to return to the inner yard to watch the rest of the games.

"no, it's a saying", she chuckles, "sapphire vipers do not exist".

Taehyung joins your company out of nowhere; in the mass of people he is almost unnoticeable, now that he has changed into an unassuming grey robe. he wants to be closer to Jiyoung and walks with you, chatting. the majority of the games is over, and purple people scatter into the palace, tired, sweaty, victorious. you throw the last look into the square.

"you're awfully quiet today", Taehyung notes, amused.

"i promised not to embarrass anyone", you sigh. Seokjin is already deep in his thoughts, planning his Gonggi win, his hand working by itself. he walks with you, leading you all to the commoners' games space.

"okay, but do not laugh at me if i lose", he braces himself before entering.

"you won't. you're bangtan, Jin", you squeeze his shoulder, laughing.

"what's that mean?"

"means you cannot be defeated".

"i am bangtan then", Taehyung grins wide. you look at him with a smile.

"yes, you are. you are my bangtan boys".

everybody finds this a little uncomfortable, a tiny bit. Taehyung's grin turns awkward for a second; Seokjin is more straightforward.

"let's not get carried away here".

and steps into the small, round arena among the Gonggi players. it was nice of Yoongi to allow a portion of the square in front of the small pavilion to be turned into a market-like station for the commoners' games. they aren't as garceful as the elites games, and consist mostly of the traditionals. on the plus side, you can cheer through them, supporting your friend or relative. and cheer, you do, for Jin. upon winning Gonggi, he decides to try himself in archery and loses by a small margine, because at the last moment, he gets distracted by the smell of food. the boys may not be ready to be called yours, but all demonstrate excellent talents, seemingly even better than in the future. someone else erupts in screaming at the far side of the square and you turn to see Jungkook, walking around with his arms outstretched, maids and servants swarming him, shrieking. you chuckle with your whole throat. he deserves this.

"go on", Jiyoung allows, "tell him you are proud of him".

you shake your head,

"no, i am lower than grass today".

Jiyoung uses this moment to slip away and congratulate the Monkey Prince, and as she makes her way through the crowd, Taehyung steps closer to you.

"you did a great job with the roof".

you thank him with a feeling. every little acknowledgement means a lot to you. your index fingers on both hands are covered in constellations of small cuts from the needles, and feel absolutely numb.

"i was meaning to help but..."

"i know, i am punished for being insolent and a pain in the ass. he won't break me like that. i am only going to get worse".

Taehyung's glance on you slides off quickly and he opens his mouth.

but doesn't say anything. you catch his eye with suspicion.

"what?"

he shakes his head. you push him in the forearm. Seokjin produces a cry from the nearest stall and you see him slapping a guy on the head.

"that's three? this costs one and a half at best".

"he is such a diva", you murmur, looking at him in admiration. Taehyung thinks Jin has distracted you well, but you return to him immediately.

"what is it? i can see you're not telling me something. is Jiyoung very jealous?" you guess, "i have barely seen you in the last weeks".

he shakes his hands in the air quickly, poor boy.

"no- no, no, no, it's not Jiyoung. it's..." his dark, neatly set eyes stare at you for a moment.

"you're not punished. the male staff are forbidden to so much as look at you".

at first, your head tips to the side with indignation. what is his problem? he thinks you won't be capable of doing things yours-

Taehyung's eyes brush over your face with an unspoken apology.

"oh. oh".

you cross your arms on your chest. a slow smile tears through the pout and it takes all the muscles of your face to fight it off. Taehyung's newly acquired habit of scanning space around when you're near him makes more sense.

"Taehyung".

"uh?" he isn't sure how to react.

"what's a poetry competition?"

his ears go a little red, and he chuckles, with surprise.

"it's a..." he adjusts his headband although there's no need for it, then it comes: a boyish grin. "concubine competition. the only game where those who win, they, you know. get into the", he stabs behind with his thumb.

"what's the game?" you wonder, "whoever writes the best poem about his beautiful eyes?"

"no", he laughs out, "it's just a euphemistic name. they need to use their tongues. there's this little box", he gestures in the air, trying to get you the full picture, while your face grows longer and longer, "with this intricate opening on top, more like a slit, and there's a pea inside that they need to get out to the exit of the box".

you move your jaw sideways.

"it's not for the main crowd. held inside the palace".

"i figure", you grunt. he nods, mildly amused.

"where did you hear about it?"

Seokjin returns and hands Taehyung a rough cup with soju.

"what about me?" you inquire. suddenly you're not in the mood to take any shit.

"eh, little sister. no soju for girls".

"what's that mean, you lizard?"

"why am i a lizard?" Jin erupts.

"girls shouldn't drink", Taehyung smiles kindly. you stand between them and fight off an impulse to punch the cup out of his hand.

"girls", you narrow your eyes, and they both get just a tiny bit intimidated, "shouldn't faint while decorating the whole fucking two storey roof all alone just because somebody's feeling booktok".

Seokjin takes it very seriously for some reason, although he most definitely doesn't get it.

"fair enough. i'll bring you one".

he downs his cup and, by the time Jiyoung is back, you have made a tiny advancement for the gender equality fight in Joseon. when Jin gets relatively drunk, he starts howling songs in that retro voice of his, and you tell him you think he should try music.

the games take the best part of the evening, too. Yoongi is tired, he winces when Seonghyung brushes against his shoulder again, breathing into his cheek, hinting a drinking sparring. his eyes move to Hoseok, and Hoseok reacts immediately.

"get him to his chambers, please, or i'll slice his jugular", he murmurs.

General smirks, and Seonghyung vanishes like a ghost. he tilts his neck, rubs his shoulder. too many smells from too many different people from today, he crunches his nose in satisfaction when he sees his eunich hurrying towards him. the boy falls on the floor in a bow, then picks himself up quickly.

"games are over, my king. shall i bring the women?"

Yoongi nods.

"that's actually, finally, a good idea".

he catches a glimpse of the round moon and a trail of plum blossom scent on the turn of the corridor. the central quarters are quieter, and the noise of the evening preparations doesn't get here. the only steps are his.

Yoongi enters his bedroom where a servant with the ears more sensitive than even Jimin's instantly starts undressing him. her slender quick hands make it seem like the robe falls off of him by itself, while, turning, he doesn't even catch a sight of her. relieved from the heavy attire, he releases his hair as well and shakes his head.

"bath?" she asks. after years of training she has finally learnt to speak shortly and to the point, without long pleasantries.

"later. stay behind the door, you'll lead the girls away, i will only need one tonight".

she nods, the top of her head barely reaching his collarbone.

Yoongi examines all of them with intense scrutiny. the hair, the shape of the heads, the faces, the moles painted on skin under the eyes with a thin brush. the dresses revealing their shoulders and the lines of their stomachs. the eyes. he is looking for a certain stare, for a certain hair colour. for the rolled up sleeves, a bite in between the teeth. no, scratch the last one. tonight, biting is a no. he gets up, sliding a lilac ribbon in between his fingers, that slips easily, calming his mind.

"you", he takes one by the arm. "turn around".

the girl lowers her eyes, her face doesn't change from the unreadable submissive expression. she does as she's told.

"the rest of you can go".

four others leave the room silently, the door slides open and close, and there's misty silence, broken only by the peacocks yapping something from a garden away. what Yoongi hadn't anticipated from them, would be how late those damn birds go to sleep. he releases the hair of the girl from the pin, letting it fall over his hand, and taps the pin on her shoulder. doesn't like when things are in disorder, just lying around. she takes it quietly and tucks into her dress. Yoongi takes the ribbon and braids her hair, weaving it in between the locks. the colour is close enough, everything else is a miss.

he drops one last look at the top of her head and guides it down, then closes his eyes.

taglist: @cerulean1riz , @kiki-zb , @mar-lo-pap , @ashyiiy , @enfppuff , @coolpeanutskeletonpersona , @jajabro

#yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #reader x bts #bts imagine

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