#Jung Hoseok fluff scenario

[stxrvel]

the one where i said fuck you and you cried (3)

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. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! a lot of curse words, a lot of self-deprecation and low self esteem. no proofread. this is nawt silly writing, we're diving right into the aNgSt. jumpscare? iykyk a/n. hi guys! this was a rollercoaster for me to write, but i hope it doesn't come as harsh as i think it is. pls let me know what you think in the comments!! see you next week!!

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You had gone through a scenario like that in your head several times. A variety of moments, conversations and looks that always ended in the same unpleasant, inevitable and demoralizing way: you were forgotten by the people you loved most in the world. Only when you reached 18 would you realize how heartbreaking the dull thud of the silence of indifference was, how sharp and icy the loneliness was, how it penetrated and paralyzed your bones; but at that time, at 16, you could still convince yourself that all those things were only in your head and would always be there.

“Now that you're the last to go, you guys are much more likely to forget about me.”

“Of course not! In fact, as soon as I start earning money I'll save up to take you with us.”

Jungkook shook his head, his narrowed eyes judging you as if having insecurities was a sin. You believed his words at that moment, because being the last one still with you, 'cause you were going to graduate from school in the same year, it was the only thing you could do. Hold on to the idea that you really weren't going to be forgotten, because the mere conception of a future without your best friends was inconceivable.

“Jimin-hyung said he was going to try to call more often,” your friend went on, his eyes fixed on the bass on his lap and his important task of leaving it neat before returning it to its holy post in the school's music room. “I haven't talked to them in about three days.”

Jimin and Taehyung had left just a couple of months ago, but thanks to the opportunities opened to them with their incredible willingness, discipline and some string twitching on Namjoon's part, they had managed to get into a great academy to train and fulfill their dreams.

That also brought with it, as irreversible side effects, that your communication with them was drastically reduced. You had to constantly remind yourself and Jungkook that it was out of their control. With their future at stake, there was something for which they had to exert extreme effort and for which to sacrifice some other things.

“It's normal that they don't have as much time as they used to, Kookie.” You lowered your head, noticing the way his hands delicately handled the instrument on his legs. Since Jimin and Taehyung had left there was no time of day when you could tear yourself away from Jungkook, which is why you accompanied him to his extracurricular music lessons when you really should have been studying for the college entrance exam. “Life after school gets really hectic.”

“I've heard that college life is quieter.” Jungkook twisted his lips, wiping between the strings and his fingerprints left on the bass every time he moved it back and forth to clean it. It was an almost irresistible cycle.

“The only one at college right now is Seokjin and even about him we haven't heard much.” You leaned back against the piano, noticing Jungkook's movements pause for a moment as he surely reminisced about the few times he had been able to talk to Jin that month.

It had been two years since Seokjin had graduated and traveled all the way to the capital to study medicine. Needless to say, it was more than clear that communication with Jin would be almost nil from then on, but Jungkook always used to pout about it.

“It's just that Jin-hyung also chose a rather demanding career.” Jungkook twisted his lips, as if suppressing Jin in his head, waving the microfiber towel over the edges of the bass.

“And the others are trying too hard to carve their way through. It can be as complicated as going out to look for a job right after graduating.”

Jungkook nodded, admiring his cleaning job with a frown. He looked so focused that it caught you by surprise when he spoke again.

“You already know if you're going to college, noona? We're graduating this year.”

You blinked once, twice, three times. His nonchalant self went back to waving the towel over nonexistent smudges as you breathed in and decided not to go that route. “Will you?”

Jungkook raised his head, pausing his movements for a moment to try to analyze your gaze. With a sigh, he let out your poorly disguised way of shifting the focus of the conversation to get up and hang the instrument, glowing, on the wall of the music room.

“I don't know yet… Namjoon-hyung says he can help me.”

“Isn't it your dream, why do you doubt it?”

“I'm not sure, noona. What if I don't measure up? What if I fail?”

When your friend turned away, the mirror to his soul showed his vulnerability dancing on the edge of his eyelids. His distrust constricted your heart, a hand closing around your throat at the inner conflicts you knew Jungkook used to have and in the face of which you often couldn't do anything about because he didn't usually share such things.

“Then you try again.”

“Noona…” Jungkook wanted to grumble, it was obvious from the way his eyes moved to the ceiling, his head cocking as if he was about to give you a big life lesson on why you can't survive on motivational phrases.

But Jungkook was a softie about such things, even if he tried to hide it.

“Jungkook, you are literally a golden promise. No process is ever easy, especially in the industry you want to get into, but don't think for a second that you're going to outgrow it. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met.”

Your friend stopped his steps, when after hanging up the bass he was returning to your post in front of you, raising his head as if caught committing a prank. But the vulnerability in his eyes remained, and by the way they shone in the dim light of the room, still blinking to try to contain the emotion, you knew your words had tugged at just that thorn in his heart you were trying to pull out.

“Thank you, noona.”

“I'm just telling the truth.” You lifted a shoulder, shaking your head nonchalantly like it was no big deal, and Jungkook just let out an amused chuckle.

“You do know we'd never forget about you, right? How could we?”

-

“How could we?”

Yuna shook her head, frowning at her phone, oblivious to the way you cringed at her choice of words.

“She's bringing celebrities into the store and she want us to leave? Don't we work so well that we always take the top employee of the month spot even though it should only be held by one person? Don't we deserve that gift?”

You watched her, marveling at how after just a few seconds so many emotions could build up into an overwhelming knot in your chest. The old notes of an old piano played in the back of your head, bringing to the surface memories of when life was easier; when you thought you had it all and nothing would ever be better than that; when you thought you were enough.

“So what do you plan to do about it?” you blinked, focusing on the notation of bills in your notebook with an invisible hand squeezing your heart.

There was no use thinking about such things after so long.

Yuna pursed her lips, her expression serious and forceful. “I think we should have a sit-in.”

“We should? That sounds like more than one person.”

“Do you disagree with me?”

“I'm happy with going home early, especially on a Friday, you know?”

“y/n,” Yuna came up to your face over the cash register display case, her forearms resting on the glass and her eyes so bright with determination you were sure her head could light the whole store on fire the way she was scheming and scheming, running around like her life depended on it, “we could be close to meeting the seven gods of Olympus, and you think the best thing to do is go home?”

“Just in case you forgot, I have a business to run now.” You reminded her, moving to poke her with your middle finger all over her forehead and push her away from the cash register now that a new customer had come in.

“What business should a business matter when you could meet the reason for existence itself?”

Yuna dropped onto the display case, her body sliding like jelly until only her head was left on the glass. You and the new customer watched her, her arms limp at her sides and her gaze lost. A lone tear running down the bridge of her nose.

“God, you're so dramatic.”

“Does that mean yes?” Her head snapped up like a spring, a big smile scaring the soul out of the customer who ducked behind your friend to run for their order.

“No and stop acting like that, you're going to scare away customers.”

Yuna whined, her exaggerated tantrum leading you to wiggle your feet all the way to the cellar.

“I'm offering you the holy grail, and this is how you pay me?”

The sound of her feet shuffling behind you kept your head sane. Even though his insinuations were baseless, your heart was pounding so hard you felt your ribs throbbing through your muscles and skin.

Your boss had written to Yuna that you two could leave the store early today because she had a private meeting to attend. She asked them to leave everything to Patrick, including clearing the store of customers and not to worry about paying for the shift, because there would be no discount at the end of the month. Yuna was faithfully and blindly convinced that your boss really wanted you to stay, because she spent almost ten minutes with her eyes glued to the screen almost without blinking, watching the 'typing…' appear and disappear under your boss's contact name. 'I'm sure she's debating how much confidence she has in us…', she said as her red eyes missed no detail of that important chat and that primordial moment, ending in an offended 'none!' when her last message came through.

In the same way, Yuna convinced herself that the meeting that would take place in the same place where your feet were planted was going to be attended by the seven entertainment kings of the country. The unmentionables, for all practical purposes. Where had she come to that conclusion? There was no foundation. Had your boss given any hints? None. Yuna had her head in the clouds believing she could meet her idols if she insisted a little longer.

“Would you really prefer to stand your friend up to meet seven men you don't even know for sure will show up here?”

“Well…if you put it that way it sounds like I'm doing something wrong.”

“Mmm, you just figured that out?”

Yuna dropped her shoulders as you took off your apron. Her tactics weren't going to work and it was time to give up. She half-heartedly opened her locker and stood looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You felt as guilty as if you had stepped on her tail by accident.

“Look, if I'm being honest, I doubt gigantically that Sol will tell you that you can stay if you ask her.”

“Not even for everything we've been through together?”

“She's still our boss, Yuna.”

Your friend mimicked your actions with a slower speed, her emotion draining away little by little. When her head cocked to the side, halfway through taking off her apron, you only sighed.

“The worst that can happen is I get fired, right?”

You weren't surprised that she was nevertheless willing to cross that line.

“That doesn't sound like much to you?”

“I can always write her a 'ha, ha, just joking' afterwards and get out of harm's way.”

You didn't contain the irresistible urge to roll your eyes and Yuna took that as her own signal or green light. Next thing you knew she was pulling out her phone and typing animatedly on the screen.

“I really don't think you should do that.”

“I have to try! Can I call myself a good fan if I don't do even the impossible?”

“You don't even know if they'll come.”

“I have a hunch.”

With her hand over her heart, Yuna sent the message and you feared for her life. While Sol was not at all close to the idea and conceptualization of a crazy and ruthlessly demanding boss, she did draw the line at several specific situations that they had both learned to respect. One of those was, of course, private meetings at her place. You and Yuna had set up the place countless times for Sol to sit quietly and chat with her most famous acquaintances, because her office was too formal to deal with them there, but her own home was extremely informal for the same purpose. The cafeteria served as a middle ground, the perfect place to be comfortable when talking business.

“Patrick is coming.” Yuna spoke again and by the way her eyes didn't leave the screen you could tell Sol hadn't responded yet.

“I wish you the best of luck, Yuna.”

“Thank you! Coming from you it's a blessing, indeed.”

“And why's that?”

You finally stood up, closing your locker with your strap bag over your right shoulder. You were ready to leave while your friend was still biting her index fingernail waiting for an almost impossible and inconceivable message from her boss.

“What else can I expect from the writer who blew up overnight and is soon going to be one of the New York Times bestsellers and famous worldwide?”

“Ah,” you turned your head, unable to contain inwardly the way a warmth settled in your chest; you still had a hard time accepting how things had turned out, but as long as you couldn't control the influx of orders that had to take a back seat, “smooth.”

Yuna smiled and when her eyes met yours you swore she was about to tell you one more time how proud she was of you, but her phone vibrated in her hands and the last thing you saw her eyes widen exaggeratedly before her scream shook the foundations of the store and almost the entire city.

“SHE SAID YES!!!!”

-

Arriving home unleashed immeasurable chaos.

As soon as you opened the front door, a river of books fell like dominoes, with your father's groans and your mother's screams in the background, the sound of your work echoing in your head like lightning as stomping echoed through the house.

“Seojun, I told you to be careful walking…!”The angry expression on your mother's face disappeared the moment she recognized your face, her features softening as she knew it was her daughter. “Honey. What are you doing here so early?”

“Is that y/n?” your dad's exclamation rang out from the kitchen.

“Yes!” your mom yelled back.

The welcome was nice, but things only got more and more tedious from then on. On the one hand, you had your father telling you about accounts, numbers and multiplications of how much you had to take out of your pocket to pay for the prints, how much you would make if you sold all the books you had printed and how much you would get back, and on the other hand you had your mother telling you about the countless publishers who had written to your dm's seeking to sponsor the sale of your books, taking advantage of the boom that had been generated by the phenomenon that was Kim Taehyung.

Seojun, who had decided to move back home for the weekend to help with whatever was needed, was telling you that they had had to hire five different deliverymen -three of them trucks- to be able to deliver as many orders a day as possible, while vehemently hitting your father's forearm to remind him to include that in the accounts.

Your father was in charge of everything related to money, your mother of the direct communication with customers and Seojun of the orders; everything was done by them, with Yuna's help when she was not working, with the excuse that after so many years you just had to sit down and enjoy the fruit of your sowing without any worries.

But at that moment, when they had just let go and thrown all their worries at your feet, they stared at you expectantly.

"We need a loan."

Your mother jumped in her chair. "That's what I said!"

"That's not necessary." Your father shook his head, as he surely would have done when your mother suggested the idea judging by the expression that had planted itself on her face. "Take a loan from my wallet, but don't do business with those bankers. They'll gouge your eyes out with interest."

"Or take a publisher's offer. They'll take care of all this." Seojun pointed out, his long black hair brushing his eyebrows even though he shook it nonchalantly so he could get a good look at the three of them.

"Publishers can be freeloaders too." Your mother counter-argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, yeah? How many publishers have you signed on with to assert that?"

"Wow, careful with that tone, Mr. Lawyer." Your father pointed at your brother, while your mother only raised an eyebrow at him in response. Seojun sank into the chair, barely dragging an apology through his teeth.

"It's not a bad idea either, Dad."

His brown eyes returned to meet your gaze and you noticed the hesitation in them.

"Well, ultimately, it's your decision, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder.

"I say we should listen to the lawyer."

"Hey!" Seojun frowned, straightening up on the chair. "Don't put such a big responsibility on me!"

Your father snorted. "But then weren't you comfortable a while ago giving orders and saying that I don't know what thing you had already seen it in class and that's why you knew what we had to do?"

"Dad…" Seojun elongated.

"Are you ready for such a position or not, Seojun? Tell me to start looking for another lawyer."

Your mother barely contained her laughter, only because of the offended sideways glance her own son sent her way. Laughter blossomed in your chest, too, like a big breath of fresh air in a field of flowers. You didn't know you needed that moment so badly until the tension disappeared from your shoulders as you laughed with your parents and your brother grumbled with his arms crossed.

-

A new batch of orders just went out - thank you so much for your purchases!

You looked at the story your mom had uploaded to Instagram in the solitude of your bedroom. The rest of the day was spent strategizing and planning marketing ideas that would likely lead you to ruin. In a defeated silence, you admitted that Yuna was really needed.

You had texted your friend a while ago, as the sunset was beginning to paint the sky with colors, but she still hadn't even checked her phone. Her last connection was a few minutes after you left at noon. You decided not to insist, even though you were a little curious about who had finally shown up at the store.

The best thing about that busy rest of the afternoon was that you'd been able to keep yourself busy enough to completely ignore the way you'd been whipped up by a few memories that morning in Yuna's company. A simple question had caused all that. And of course, with a heart as weak as a chick's and willpower almost non-existent, you let yourself be pulled right in that moment of loneliness into the well of memories.

“Jungkookie?”

Your voice pierced the silence and a shiver ran through your body as the darkness greeted you back. A few minutes passed after you plunged into the completely darkened room, walking tentatively and slowly inside, you heard a movement just outside the door you had just entered.

“Noona…”

You couldn't see him, but you didn't need to. The sobs that filled the room were enough to be able to guide you through that darkness, as indistinguishable as coal, and wrap your arms around his hunched figure on the floor beside the door.

The house was alone and as dark as that room the last night Jungkook would be there. Passing through the empty corridors of his house was a torment, but you could only imagine how your friend would feel in his place, unable to stop time as it slipped through his fingers.

Several times he had already told you that he didn't want to leave. You didn't think he meant it.

“They're waiting for you downstairs.”

“I know. I don't want to go, noona.” Jungkook moved his arms to wrap around your waist in a desperate grip, his erratic breathing against your neck breaking your heart. “I want to stay. It doesn't matter if I never become an idol. That's not important.”

“Jungkook…”

“I don't want to leave you…”

His halting voice was barely understandable, trying to be muffled by the jacket you were wearing that night when you went to see him off and didn't find him in the car with his parents. The heater seemed not to be a worthy opponent for that cold night.

“Jungkook, you're not going to leave me. We'll keep in touch. Why do you worry so much?”

“I don't want to be like them,” his pained voice pierced your chest; the movement of his body from the way the sobs were attacking him was almost uncontainable. “I don't want this distance.”

“Change is always hard, Jungkookie, but I promise you we'll be in touch always. I'll do my best to make it so.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I'll even come visit you as soon as I can.”

“No. I said I was going to pay for your trip.”

“See? You're not going to leave me.”

“Still I'm scared, noona. What if I'm not enough for them? What if I can't raise enough for you to come live with us?”

“You are enough, Jungkook. From the tips of your fingers to the tips of your hair, there's nothing about you that won't allow you to achieve your dreams, understand? You are destined to be a star. I know it's hard to leave behind everything you know in life, but believe me it will all be worth it. You will come out on top and you will succeed.”

“Noona…” Jungkook cried again, burying his face in your neck once more, clinging to you like the anchor that carried him to the surface of the ocean; the ocean shaped by his own tears. “I… don't… want… to… go…”

The hiccups that attacked him from his intense crying made it difficult for him to speak and you hadn't felt such pain even when the other boys left. There were tears shared, promises whispered and hugs that lasted longer than they should have, but no one had clung to your body as if they feared you were going to disappear at any moment and wanted to seize every second before the impending end.

“It's okay, Jungkookie,” you ran your hands up and down his back trying to calm his crying, trying to control your own as treacherous tears rolled down your cheeks with the darkness as your witness. “We'll meet again. You can wait for me. Then we can melt into another embrace and say how much we miss each other.”

Your phone vibrated on the bed, the notification startling you with its aggressiveness. Another vibration followed that one and then another. Turning on the screen, you found that half an hour had passed since you'd last seen the clock, and in passing you came across Yuna's name on the caller ID. You sighed, remembering the effusiveness with which she said goodbye in the afternoon and mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.

"Hey," you greeted, mildly surprised that her exclamations hadn't reached your ear first to interrupt your greeting.

"y/n, how were sales today?" her calm voice filled your hearing and a slight wrinkle implanted itself between your brows.

"Mmm, it was all good. We have several domiciliary and the prints are coming out with the deadlines arranged. With Seojun we considered that maybe taking on a publisher wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not sure yet."

You narrowed your eyes at the ceiling, shallowly biting your nails, waiting for the moment when Yuna would burst out, but it didn't come.

"Oh, yeah. We'll have to consider that. I'll go early tomorrow morning to seize the day." Yuna answered quietly, with the faint sound of things stirring in the background of the call. Surely she had just arrived at her apartment.

"Yuna?"

"Mhm?"

"How was the afternoon?"

"Oh, it was normal, really," she replied, her voice flat, as if the thought had barely crossed her mind since the moment she'd left the coffee shop. "I didn't see anyone memorable."

"Ah, so your knights in shining armor didn't attend?"

"Sadly, no." Yuna sighed, her unchanging attitude finding a little more sense in your head. She sounded more tired than anything.

You talked a bit more with Yuna before she excused herself to go about her evening routine and finally get some rest, specifically stressing to you how boring the whole afternoon had been and how every second she only thought about going home. You also told her a bit more about the ideas you and your father had half-heartedly spun as marketing strategies, but very earnestly your friend asked you not to do anything until she was there.

When her name disappeared from your caller ID, an Instagram notification popped up at the top of your home screen. The vibration felt like the pounding of a sledgehammer against wood, your sentence handed down with no chance of appeal, the blood in your veins freezing and an endless emptiness in the pit of your stomach.

jeonjungkook97 just followed you!

It was followed by the notification of a message from Yuna.

Unnie | 19:01 holy shit. jungkook just followed you on ig, right?

No fucking way. Another fucking account to block.

-

It wasn't like you couldn't deal with them. You had been doing it for about ten years. But now they just seemed to want to throw themselves in front of your face one by one and you weren't strong enough to handle that. Maybe your resolve needed to be more forceful; maybe you should be sure you hated them instead of feeling like your body was shaking and you could melt like jelly in the sun every time you felt they were one step closer to you. For a while, that was all you wanted; to find them; to be found. But now…?

The weekend was spent in a hodgepodge of managing your book sales and the seesaw of emotions you had in the face of the estranged but impactful actions of your old friends. You tried not to think about it too much; you really tried, but it was very difficult. It was easier to let the memories wash over you instead of diligently packing up the books on which you had squandered your blood and tears.

Your books, yes, that was the most important thing.

From the posts and hashtags, even though it had only been a couple of days, you could see that some people -those who had actually read the books- were already posting their opinions and reviews and you knew you had had plenty of time to prepare for that moment, but you really weren't ready to face it. You didn't know what it was; whether it was the pollen, the aligned planets, PMS, mercury retrograde… but all of those things were weighing you down too much recently and you weren't ready to hear the opinions.

And you couldn't help but keep asking yourself why? Having spent so much time, between so many experiences and so many personal changes, why now they decided that they would come back into your life? How dare they after ruining your life by completely abandoning you? Many times you wondered what was missing in you; what was never enough for them… sometimes you believed that this was how it was meant to be; just the seven of them, before you came along. It was always them seven first, then you.

Between lows and highs, between sadness and joy, you still had to keep working.

"Get rid of that face if you're not going to tell me what's wrong with you." Yuna crossed the cafeteria in front of you, picking up some glasses and plates on the table as lunchtime approached.

"I don't have any face."

"You've been in a somber mood since Saturday. You look dead."

You clicked your tongue, taking advantage of the fact that the store was nearly empty to do the math. "Don't be over the top."

"I'm just being honest and genuinely concerned about my friend, can you blame me?" Yuna reached the sink and simply left the dishes there to approach the cash register. Your eyes refused to meet hers, unsheathing a strange annoyance in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm fine," you moved the money automatically, doing the math in the back of your head as second nature, "don't worry so much."

"Ok, if you don't want to tell me about it at least try to distract yourself a little, why don't you take an extra half hour for lunch?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Sol would never know."

"I'm not going to do that."

Yuna pouted, dropping her chin onto the back of her hand. You knew she was about to fly you out of that chair the moment all the bills were safeguarded.

A whiplash of pain shot through your chest at the alternative of having to leave the cafeteria, alone, hovering with your thoughts once again, as you tried to shove the food down your throat. But Yuna happily dragged you out of the cafeteria, leaving you in the middle of the street with your little bag and lunch money, wishing you a happy break as she wandered off once more to deal with the sparse crowd of customers alone.

Maybe you should have told her you'd rather not eat than be alone, but…

That was the story of your life.

So you walked to that restaurant a couple of blocks away, where they sold the cheapest food in the area, and waited patiently while answering Yuna's messages to clear your mind.

Going through your social networks, you once again came across the cover of your books in the pre-viewing of a video and felt the bile in your throat. Let's see, you were happy. Or well, you were trying to convince yourself because you still had that bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that wouldn't let you enjoy this blast like you should and it had a first and last name of its own. But, generally speaking, it was great that your books were selling, forgetting all the other circumstances that led to that happening.

So, standing in front of those videos, you were tormented by not being able to watch them. A self-published author should be prepared for that kind of thing. No, any author should be. Sharing your art with the world implicitly entailed confronting the world's expression in front of it. It was inevitable, of course, and it was also the energy that could start an engine or the fingers that put out the match. At that precise moment, you still didn't want to know what your destiny was.

You hated that. You hated feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Why was life so heavy if you had just begun to live it?

Ah, too much pondering for one lunch.

And to think this all started with an Instagram story.

Having an existential crisis because you couldn't stand dealing with the stress and pressure of the extreme demand you were having and because of mixed feelings for a bunch of idiots resurfacing after so many years was one of the last things you thought you'd have to go through that year. Fuck, or ever in your entire life.

Taehyung might have done you a favor as well as a disservice.

But that's how you spent a while longer, as you walked back to the coffee shop, the noise of the city not being enough to quell the bustle of thoughts crashing against each other in your head.

Being in the eye of the hurricane, however, didn't mean you were safe. You barely had a breath of fresh air before the eyewall hit you hard once again.

"Noona…?"

You froze a few steps away from the cafeteria. You feared not only the way you immediately recognized the voice, but the way your body froze, fear, panic and uncertainty clouding your sense.

You were in the alley behind the coffee shop. You didn't usually go in that way, but you had taken a slightly longer way back, only because you were too busy thinking about whether or not your body was up to a longer walk.

You were so close to the door that you could almost hear Yuna's voice on the other side, barely muffled by the beeping that echoed in your ears as panic took over your body.

You didn't want to turn around. Your body was having every possible negative reaction, as if it was fighting an infection, the lunch you had just shoved down your throat seeking to make its way back into your mouth and the feeling of dizziness momentarily clouded you.

Was this how you planned to react if you ever saw them again? Was this how you acted out the scenarios you imagined in your head at night when your memories went back to the last time you saw them?

The only difference between those imaginings and what was happening at that moment was that before you could prepare yourself; you knew what was coming; you had control. Now? Your legs were about to give out, the weight of your body too much to bear.

And you wanted to mock the pathetic behavior you were engaging in. You should turn around, slap him and scream at him that you never wanted to see him again. But your heart was beating and feeling and… how could you deny it anything after so many years of being neglected?

But maybe you were imagining it. The little sleep you had this weekend and all the memories you dragged from the trunk since you saw that Instagram notification must have made you crazy enough that you heard voices, his voice, anywhere… you were still near a busy street, it could be anyone-

"y/n."

And, yet…

You didn't turn around knowing what it would entail to give his voice a face, even though you could madly and frankly recall every line of its length, and you spoke harshly through your teeth even though your labored breathing made your chest heave.

"What are you doing here?"

"Noona… you're really here."

You cringed as you heard his footsteps and clutched with inhuman speed at the lock on the door in front of you.

"I asked you a fucking question: what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

The silence didn't give you an answer, but you could glimpse it. With your patience on edge and years of emotional repression it was impossible for you to deduce how you would react in such a case, but it didn't seem too far-fetched, even if Jungkook's surprised inspiration said he didn't expect you to be so harsh and rude.

As if you cared.

—Yes you did care, in fact, that's why your heart was beating wildly against your ribs, the choking sensation increasing, the nerves on edge and the tears all over the corners of your eyes, but you had to stand your ground. After so, so long… why, why, why, why?—

"I… I…" Jungkook seemed to be having trouble finding his voice, even though in his profession the words came melodiously and easily out of his mouth. If you turned to look at him, you might have noticed that his face went from happiness to anguish with the speed a bullet goes through a field, "I wanted to see you…"

He sounded so small. The five-foot-ten-plus man, who you're sure was almost a head and a half taller than you, might as well have been a badly wounded puppy behind you. You knew from the way he spoke that he was holding back tears, but you didn't let that sway you. He didn't deserve it.

"Who gave you the right to come here?"

You didn't let him answer, not knowing if he was even going to, tightening the lock on the door you were about to walk through at any moment, bile in your throat making you fear the fall as if you were at the top of a skyscraper.

"How the fuck did you even find me?"

"Well, I-"

"I don't fucking want to know!"

You cut him off, the dryness and venom in your voice making you tremble. You were so sad, so distraught and so angry at the same time.

"And I don't want to see you. So leave."

"Noona…"

"Fucking leave, Jeon, for fuck's sake!"

You moved, almost as if by inertia, opening the door and slamming it behind you, the noise so deafening that it echoed in your ears for several seconds until you heard Yuna's footsteps approaching you and felt her arms wrap around your body.

You didn't know what she was saying, you just leaned against the door and let yourself fall, your body shaking in cry after uncontrollable cry, truly wondering how everything had gone so far; wondering how, after so many years, you still allowed them to have that power over you; a power they didn't deserve and shouldn't have.

You felt shattered in that moment, every piece of you scattered in the hold, every moment of your life replaying on its glassy, sharp edges. Even with half of you staying afloat, Yuna held you until the tears stopped flowing and with renewed resolve you promised yourself that this was never going to happen again.

Jungkook had taken you by surprise, but from now on none of them would ever catch you off guard.

-

a/n: i dont really know what to think about this chap. sometimes i like it sometimes i dont. i guess thats just how it works. pls letme know what you think! thank u for all the support! <3

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592 @yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison

[hoseoksluna]

LIFE | jhs

pairing: military!hobi x f. reader (ft. namjoon)

genre: slow burn ; tension ; converse high trope / smut, tiny fluff

word count: 8.6k

summary: hoseok has always had a secret thing for you and once he learns you're single, he doesn't waste time and knocks on your door. 

pinterest board: life / playlist: listen / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: mutual pining, hobi is a feet guy, mentions of a partner giving you a cold shoulder and silent treatment, strong tension, praise kink, petting, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, slight dd/lg, raw and rough sex, size kink.

note: SHE'S BACK. HOSEOKSLUNA IS BACCKKKKKKKK. HELLO, MY BABIES. I MISSED YOU ALLLLL SOOOO MUCH AND I MISSED WRITING SO MUCH THAT THIS IS SOMETHING I WROTE IN MY YEARNING TOWARDS THE END OF MY HIATUS. fuck, this is way too hot. and i, again, had to take breaks to do something :D actually, i was inspired to write this at 4 am when i landed in my country after my vacation in dubai and got the weverse notification from hobi. :) yep. he ruined me, destroyed me, and i had to start writing. ENJOY THIS FILTHHHHHH. i missed writing abt dd/lg, too.... hehe. let me know what you think. and if you mayhappsss want part two? I LOVE YOU, MY BABIES. MWAH.

Hoseok, at your doorstep bringing in the moonlight before the midnight hour, was not something you quite expected to see when you heard the bell ring. You were lounging around on your couch, clothed in your new silky pajamas that you bought to heal your wounded heart a little, along with a peachy Korean face mask, a banana vape and a vanilla candle that you lit up as soon as you exited the shower. The creamy white sheet is what you were still wearing on the planes on your face when you stood there, taken aback because the man, clad in his military uniform, was certainly not your friend that visited you often. 

Hoseok was a mutual friend. A friend of your best friend Karina… and a friend of your now ex-boyfriend Namjoon. A friend that hated your guts—a friend that could not stand you. 

A friend that would let his eyes linger a little while longer on you upon seeing you on regular night outs and then ignore you for the rest of the event. A friend that would lock his gaze on your intertwined hand with Namjoon’s before narrowing it and scoffing in a private way that you invariably saw through. 

You weren’t stupid. You knew what his deal was—it’s only that you couldn’t do anything about it. You were Namjoon’s for eight wonderful months that were splotchy with the depth of poetry. Words from his heart that would give your life meaning, keep your head up above the surface. You needed those words as you spent your whole girlhood drowning in the sea of FOMO, rowing your arms through the waves of life that never got you anywhere. Seeing the little beauty of day and night of Seoul with your friends paled in comparison with what Namjoon showed you. You always believed that your life would begin with a man by your side—you prayed for it, you waited for it and it became reality. 

But it was not the reality that your body sought in the long run. 

Yes, the sex was great. Significant to your mental development, especially to your female one as you truly did become a woman in his hands, letting the lush girlish version of you die in his palms. As well as the museums, the hikes, the dinner dates that let you in on the complexity of Namjoon’s intellect that you found so profound and full of beauty. 

But as you nearly reached a year with him, your body began to seek more. The flowers beyond the box of your relationship with him—and you knew that those petals carried the scent of Hoseok. 

He liked you. You saw it in the extremity of his purposeful ignorance towards you, in the forced hatefulness he put across, and in the distance he set as a boundary. You saw it, too, in the way he would entertain other women in the bars and glance at you every now and then to make sure you’re seeing what he wants you to see. And it excited you, his interest in you that he kept at bay. 

It was a forbidden fruit that you smelt and smelt, but could never bite into—and it drove you insane. And when he got enlisted in the military, it drove you off a cliff. 

Missing him made you search for him. Not in Namjoon, but in other men. Privately, in your soul. And it cost you your relationship. 

Namjoon was a jealous, possessive man. He would fight with you if you looked at a guy for a beat longer than is necessary and if a half of a smile crept up upon the corner of your lips, he would give you the cold shoulder. An action that cut through you deep enough to make you bleed and you had to put a stop to it. 

You thought talking to him about it like an adult would straighten the road you were walking upon, but like the intelligent man Namjoon is—he knew that what he was giving to you was no longer what you needed. He threw it back at you, using the poetry of his words, and all you could do was be honest with him. Nod your head, tell him he was right, that you were seeking something more. And what surprised you was that Namjoon wasn’t willing to go the extra mile. 

He didn’t consider it. Didn’t mention it. 

He nodded his head, too. And you parted your ways as friends who loved each other and lived an artistic life together. 

And at that moment, a door to your mind opened and Hoseok stepped in. Made a bed, fluffed the pillows, and rested. 

It seems now he has awoken. Rang your doorbell, bashed his fist against the wood and narrowed his eyes at you in his normal fashion. 

An action that weaves a rhythm into that flat, bruised heart of yours. 

His military jacket is slung over his arm. His two black dog tags, hung by a silver chain around his long neck, rattles as the breath of the fresh, autumn evening breezes past, scattering goosebumps along your chocolate-buttered skin. You notice, within the brief silence while you look at each other and exchange words long overdue, that his hair is way shorter. Not buzzed anymore like Namjoon showed you on Hoseok’s first day in the military six months ago, but tousled and sticking out in different directions as if he raked his fingers through the strands a million times over. Your own itch, wrapped around your vape, his beauty heightened by his evident newly-gained manliness washing over you like an icy stream of water. 

You shiver, blaming it internally on the wind, and not on the lightness of the attraction that you feel sinking beneath your skin, overpowering you. 

And that small movement of your body propels Hoseok to speak, at last. 

“I come home to find you single,” he scoffs, his voice deep and raspy, marked possibly by his job in the military. And you feel it marking you just the same, opening windows in the house of your body for that wind to blow in and exhilarate you, help you breathe. “He’s drunk out of his mind, crawling on Jungkook’s lap and you’re here. In your pajamas with a fucking face mask on.” 

Briefly, you furrow your brows, not understanding the meaning of his words. Is he bashing you for not crying your heart out? Or is he bashing his brother for doing whatever it was. Your heart turns halfway, painfully. Those days are gone—those you spent in bed while that broken muscle wept while your body used that time to repose from all the stress it went through, being in an environment it grew out of. 

You sigh, weary of the recollection of that peculiar pain, and show no sight of the turbulence happening within you. “Jungkook must be happy about that.” 

Hoseok chuckles, humorlessly. A chilling noise that erects your bare nipples beneath your pajama button down. Awkwardness slinks down your sternum and you shift your weight on your other foot as Hoseok deepens his gaze down on you. 

Tension settles between you and you use it. You use it, wholeheartedly, as you should have all those months ago. The only thing you ever took advantage of were the touches Namjoon graced your skin with. You’d grab his hand, while Hoseok watched, and bring it underneath the table. Part your mouth, pretending he was touching a sensitive, private place while he was merely drifting his fingers along your thigh. Hoseok would gulp, but he would keep his gaze locked on yours, very much like he’s doing now. It’s the only form of intimate interaction you ever had, save for the heated debates about different things you two did not have in common. 

All else remained hidden in the silence shared between you. 

And it no longer shall. 

If he came all the way here, unannounced, then you shall let fate, one that is enamored with your body, have her way in your life. 

“If you came here to talk about him, then I’m not interested,” you say, letting go of the door and slipping off your face mask, ignoring the hurtful pinpricks along the perimeters of your heart. “If you came here for me, then the door is open.” 

And with that bravery, you pivot on your heel and walk back into the living room, not expecting him to follow you and not expecting him to walk away. You let fate do her thing, and you begin to tap in the essence of the peachy face mask into your skin with quick, gentle slaps. 

You toss the sheet, along with the packaging, into the trash, your hair clipped away from your face whooshing around you with your movement. Kicking off your slides, you hear them bump into something stable, and when you turn around to seek that strange sound, you see Hoseok standing by your armchair near your couch. 

So he did come here for you. You tremble in a different manner, filled with sparks of excitement, and, turning around to sit on the couch, you flush, smiling happily to yourself. 

But all those feelings turn to dust when Hobi kneels by the edge of your couch and fixes your home slippers. Aligns them rightly in front of you so you can comfortably slide your feet into them once you get up. 

Your stomach drops and your fingertips tingle, all of your nerve endings set on blazing fire by that one act of service. 

The first kind thing he’s ever done for you. 

He throws his military jacket over the backrest of the armchair, where he nestles himself. Legs spread, elbows propped on his knees. His long dog tag chain swings back and forth in the sudden, atypical calmness of the atmosphere that you cannot adapt to fully. Not when your mind creates an image of that chain hanging over your face, your neck and your chest when you’re bare and ready for him, laying on your back, all for him to take. 

You bite your lip, tracing the band of your sleep sock with your fingers, and Hoseok’s eyes fall to it. You quickly lift them, sheepish. Distract your mind by opening a package of eye patches and placing them on your dark circles that just won’t leave. His gaze skims over each motion, studying it, wordlessly, and you can’t take it anymore. 

You can’t be the only one who’s brave this evening. 

You take a puff of your vape, inhaling its sweetness, and stare right back at him. A smile, a foolish girlish smile quivers upon your lips. One that you dislike because you did grow out of it, but it seems as though the more you swallow the intensity of his shadowed, violent sea-charged energy, the more you transform back into that little girl you were. 

And the process soaks your panties. 

So much is said in the silence, always has been, but you can’t stand it anymore. 

“You should start talking before I go to bed,” you bite, willing your smile to flatten, and Hoseok kneads his hands. His knuckles bear a faint memory of yellow bruises, veiny and strong as they are, and for a moment you wonder how far his ferocity reaches. 

He showed you little of it. You know he’s capable of doing things that would change you for all eternity, give you a new form that would not wither with age. 

And you yearn for it. Have yearned for it all those months without knowing that was the thing your body sought. The thing Namjoon could never give you. 

Violence. Roughness. The licks of an outraged sea. 

You’re a witness to it sloshing in the pools of his darkened eyes as he chews the provocation you uttered his way. And you can bet he likes the taste. 

“Did he break your heart?” he asks amidst the banana-flavored smoke, his knuckles whitening for a split second as he clenches his fist before relaxing—as if the thought of Namjoon breaking your heart angers him. 

It rouses you, and the way your chest lifts with each breath stimulates your stiffened nipples. The candlelight sways, casting shadows on his worn features, and you’d much rather sit on them than talk about your ex. 

“Did you not hear what I said?” you spit, throwing your vape on the cushion of your couch. Hoseok’s façade splits as he smirks, dropping his gaze for a moment before lifting it back to you. 

He leans back, slouching in the chair. “Answer the question.” 

The sedatedness of his tone stuns you. Your heart begins to thump as well as the bundle of nerves between your folded legs. It has been too long since you had your release. Months upon months. And you’re too weak to not get carried away by these new feelings you’ve shamefully forgotten about. 

The veins from his knuckles travel all the way back to his arms and your brain empties out. Too, too fucking long. You should’ve fooled around with every guy you found attractive, use them for orgasms, make the best of your womanly years, but instead you dwelled at home—in and out of your misery. And now, now it feels as though you’re a virgin, alone for the first time with an older man that enlivens your body. 

And you might as well give him what he asks of you. 

Sucking on your vape for a puff of bravery, you don’t blink as you stare at him through the smoke. You elongate your legs, placing them on the coffee table next to him, your toes facing his outstretched knee, and his eyes, once again, plummet to them. 

“He didn’t break my heart, I broke his,” you say, your words shrouded by that white mist curling out of your mouth, and you watch as his eyes widen en route to yours. 

He didn’t expect that. 

Something about that satisfies you. Selfishly. 

Hoseok runs the pad of his finger across his bottom lip, his head tilted to the side a little bit. “It was about time you did.” 

The searing heat that rushes forward in your cheeks forces your gaze away from him, begs you to look away, but you don’t. A bead of perspiration trickles down your cleavage, one that is visible to him as you couldn’t be bothered to do all the buttons after your shower. But Hoseok’s eyes don’t flick to it. No, he can’t miss this. He can’t miss the gravity of the moment, of the spoken confirmation of the fact that what went on between the two of you for so long is real. You squeeze your thighs together, the thumping in between unbearable, and the longer you bask in his brave words, in the masculinity of his initiative, the more your own poetry begins to rise in you.

If it drags, it’s not meant for you. If it’s fast, it couldn’t wait to meet you. 

And Hoseok notices. It is only when you let out a little, barely hearable sigh that his eyes do travel down to scrutinize your bodily reaction. To your nipples poking through, the shine of your sweat in between your bare breasts, to the friction you’re rubbing—the miniscule grinding movements that you make in order to alleviate yourself of the ache of desperation that you feel. And because you’re baring yourself out for him, he does the unthinkable. 

He lets you see his true face, his façade collapsing at his big, sock-clad feet. 

Hoseok lifts his hips, hides behind the pretense that he’s just making himself more comfortable, but in reality he did it to turn your attention to his lower region. His length, semi-hard yet still long, stands out, protruding from the camo of his pants and you’re hot, hot all over. 

The thumping worsens—and you need him, all of him, to make it better. 

Perceiving that he’s succeeded in his strategy by the way you just won’t stop ogling him, he blushes and hides it, in vain, with outstretched fingers spread across his face. As if he was doing his signature idol move. It’s a riveting sight to behold, a seemingly cold person growing warm from you gaping at that private part of him. 

And you want more. You want to see more places of his body that are flushed. And you want it now. 

“It was about time you and I talked alone, don’t you think?” you ask, following on from his previous statement. All that pining, those stolen glances, that distance—all that tension advances forward now, stronger than ever.

Hoseok can feel it, too. At your words, his manhood grows harder and his breathing quickens. He tries to stabilize it, but he fails. He fails even when he returns to his original position with his elbows propped on his knees. That chain of his swings with more momentum, teasing you, and you place your legs even closer towards him, and upon witnessing the light flash in his eyes, you realize that you teased him right back. 

The man likes feet.

You draw in a sharp breath when he fists both of your feet in one hand, brushing his thumb over the tips of your toes. The first touch in this lifetime, the first time upon your new virgin body, so intimate, private; he might as well have wrapped a blanket around them with how warm his hand is, secure and trustful. Goosebumps flood your skin, bringing in the iciness that you felt when you took in his beauty against the background of the trees and the moonlight. And its beams must be stitched around his fingers because daintiness clasps you close, the notion that you’re taken care of, in good hands, descending upon you like the most delicate feather tickling you, and you let it—you let it consume you. 

And you let his following question consume you just as much. 

“Were you in love with him?” 

It’s a question you never had the bravery to ask yourself in the two months you’ve been single, but it is here and you welcome it. You hear it whisper to you the hint of your answer and your body is smart enough, capable enough to figure it out. 

No need for long nights of overthinking. 

No need for long hours of listening to your heart crack.

“No, I was used to him—that’s different,” you hush out and the moon lowers herself, spilling through your windows, bathing you in a milky light that feels as welcoming, as right as your confession. And maybe, just maybe it’s the way the shining stream submerges in your neediness that drives you to be bratty. And briefly, before you do, you ponder over the fact how in your life shared with this person drives, moves forward. There’s never a still time—and you find that mesmerizing. Enough for you to simply brood in greed. “What’s it to you?” 

Hoseok flinches. Parts his mouth. His chain rattles and his fingers squeeze the balls of your feet, coaxing a hum out of you that is immediately silenced by his sudden outburst. 

“What’s it to me?” 

There it is. Another plot point. Your heart hammers. 

Hoseok lets go of your feet and you lament the absence. Stands up and towers over you, the moonshine soaking him in divine light that causes your breath to hitch in your throat. A faint layer of sweat has coasted along his hairline and settled there—and you long to swim in his bodily fluids. In the persona of his, in the tumultuous sea of the tension locked within him. 

“You’re genuinely asking me this question?” he pressures, lifting your legs in order to step in between them, and the unthinkable visits you once again. He props his hands on either side of your head and those two dog tags swing in your face. 

A wet patch forms in the center of your pajamas. Your breath mirrors his—hasty, deep and strained—and you can’t take it anymore. 

How far into this road of bravery until the moon averts its opaque eyes away from your sin? 

You arch your spine, hook your fingers on his dog tags and pull him a little closer. Breathe his air, breathe in his masculine, musky scent that intoxicates your senses to the point that there is absolutely nothing stopping you from getting dragged in the natural flow of this situation. 

“Yes, Hoseok. What’s it to you?” 

He pants. Glides, delicately, his fingers along your arm until he winds up at your small fist, clutching it in his as if it was his. And that warmth, you want to dip your head in it. 

“I had to watch you sit in that chair and not crack a smile. Sit next to him like an obedient girl, not allowed to speak. To me,” he grunts, tightening his lips, and that anger of his seeps into you, becoming yours. “He didn’t deserve you. You’re not a pretty toy. You’re a person.” 

He straightens but, panicking, you draw him right back by that chain. “Don’t fucking walk away from me.” 

He seethes and you feel your essence trickling down your thigh. That sea, inching forward, you whimper. And then he spreads that warmth over the crown of your head, rubbing your hairline just once with his thumb before he peels off your eye patches that you have forgotten about. 

And this is when your brows curl. This is the time that says there’s no going back. 

“I talked to you. We fought, don’t you remember?” 

He sweeps that digit over that soaked dark circle of yours underneath your eye. “What do you think would’ve happened to you if I talked to you nicely?” 

Cold shoulder. Uncomfortable time of forced aloneness, filled with the abyss of guilt that you had done something wrong. A toy that didn’t move its lifeless limbs right by his will. 

“I’ve known him for far longer than you. I know how he treats those he thinks he loves. I brushed it away with the others, but with you… I couldn’t. You were so full of life that was stuck in you because of him. Because he didn’t let you let it out. And I can’t forgive him for that.” 

What life? The one you searched for all your girlhood, the one Namjoon molded with his own hands until it no longer recognized the once-familiar lines of his palm? The one that yearned for Hoseok instead? 

A film of tears clouds your eyes and as hard as you try to blink them away, they linger, pooling at your waterline like sea foam. You need your vape, you need him inside you—you can’t face the mirror of the reality of that unfair treatment. 

How blind you were; how Hoseok has become that guiding stick. 

“Don’t forgive him,” you utter, grasping his chain tighter, drawing him even closer, making his breath tremble. The first tear that pours out leaks into the print of his thumb and at the sound of your soft cry, Hoseok topples. Kneels on the couch with your legs on either side of him and you pull, you pull him closer. 

“Do you want me?” he asks—a foolish, foolish question. Presses his forehead against yours, cups your face with both hands now while his back shakes and you touch it, you drag your fingernails down those prominent muscles. And he sighs, so desperately, so tenderly. “Do you want me to let out that life in you?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, sliding your hands underneath his black shirt, scratching the lowest part of his warm, warm waist before hooking your fingers on the waistband of his pants. It’s his—it always belonged to him. “Take me. Here.” 

He brushes his nose against yours, your breath and his singular. “You’re so feisty.” Lips nearly touch yours and your lungs give out on you, your air coming out in pathetic staccatos that make him growl, subduedly. Muscles rigid, bundle of nerves devoutly pulsing. Please, please. “But no.” 

The world implodes, the mocking shimmer of that planetary light gushing through—hand in hand with sobriety. 

But Hoseok, the prince of the unthinkable, dips your head back into that darkness. Lifts you by your armpits and sets you down on his lap, his hard length against your core uprearing your need for release. 

A hand sailing down your neck, your sternum, acknowledging itself with your respiration. “Don’t give it to me that easily.” 

Your own cages him there, right at the apex of the fleshiness of your breasts. “Jebal, Hobi.” 

Please, Hobi. You drive, in his fashion, your hips forward—ever so slightly. His eyes round at the mellow variation of his name wandering out of your mouth and wrapping around his neck, as if the gentleness you give him pains him, transforms into a noose around his vocal cords and he can’t speak. 

He sighs, the noise melting into a soft, low-pitched moan. “Don’t beg me,” he croaks out, so terribly strung out. “I’m-I’m—”

You lengthen your spine, closing your mouth over that one spot on the side of his throat that you can reach, silencing him. He doesn’t need to speak—you’re fine with the tacit language of his hands. And the taste of his skin, that fucking warmth dissolving upon your tongue, you can’t help but to moan just the same against him like that, rocking your hips awfully, awfully slowly, driving him to the point of madness that he stood at the edge of for so long. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur, tugging his hand lower to the first done button of your silky shirt and it’s him who hooks his fingers over that fabric now. You lick a stripe across the thick vein of his throat, grinding a little harder when you hear him suck in a pained breath. “I want you to feel that life in me and know it’s yours. Jebal, Hoseokie.” 

He grunts, ripping you away from him. You expect his eyes to be narrowed in that typical manner of his, but they’re not. They’re soft, round and glossy, looking down at you, unblinking. A face you’ve never seen before, that feels too, too significant—and you’re not sure if you deserve to get a load of it. Of his pinkish cheeks and downturned mouth, of his fingers agonizingly sluggishly undoing the first button of your shirt. 

Of his sentimentality that you never thought he was so efficient at. 

The sea that has remotely stilled—but you’re still riding the lenient waves, your torso curving with each button popping off as he engraves his warmth into your cold, cold skin. And once he reaches the very last one, he stops. Holds your shirt together, squishing your breasts, waiting for you to lift your head out of the sea water. 

And you do. 

He inches forward, grazing his lips against yours, making you feebly cry out. 

“Did you cry for him?” 

Your cry prolongs, vexation splattering over your arousal, and you’ve had enough of it. You flick your eyes between his, drawing back, flattening your lips in that anger of his that seems to be still flowing in you somewhere. No more, no more Namjoon; no more talk of your past relationship. It’s over, it’s over.

“Stop fucking—”

Hoseok doesn’t relent. Sinks his fingers into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck to make you listen. “Did you cry for him?” 

Your heart wept, but your eyes didn’t. The tear you shed in front of him was the only liquid emotion that spilled out of you since the day of the break up. “No.” 

He blows a heavy breath of relief that oddly validates you—and light opens in your sensitive bosom. “Good girl.” 

And it is now that Hoseok presses his chest, his dog tags against that light of yours and clamps his mouth down on your top lip, hoisting you a tiny bit to sit you right down on his manhood. His strong arm wraps around your back while the other floats down and curls around your bum, growling into the kiss that he deepens. And then he parts your lips with his, slipping his tongue inside, and the dam breaks between your legs—as well as the quick little whines and squeaks that begin to leak out of your mouth and into his. 

The life in you throbs. 

His cock hardens even more underneath you and he pushes your clit against it, his noises and yours growing louder and louder in tandem until he’s breathless, panting so vivaciously that he needs a moment. A moment to focus on the mess he’s created of you, a glowing ball of rosiness, the prettiest of all flowers—and you feel like it, being looked at like that. 

“I knew you were smart,” he coos, peppering feathery kisses upon your cheek, jaw and chin, descending to the base of your neck. You moan out, fisting his shirt below his collarbones, the continuation of his validation for you nesting in your core. “That life in you will always win. No matter what.” 

You believe him—in fact, there’s nothing left for you to do, but to submit, submit and submit. And it feels like entering a dream that is kind, a reality that appears to be a dream, but is better. An existence smeared with clemency, where you can be a little girl again. 

“Touch it, please.” 

Hoseok hums, kissing the cleft between your clavicles. Shifts forward on the couch so you can rest your spine on the backrest, your head against the wall, and he slides his palms upward from your tummy to the apex of your breasts. You whine, torturously, at the contact, and you shudder and double over when he swipes his thumbs over your still stiffened nipples, buzzing shocks of acute pleasure coursing down your body, rooting in your clit that asks for his fingers, his tongue, but he remains where he is. Transfixed, starving, ravaged. 

He kneads your breasts like he kneaded his hands, with overpowering strength that quickens your blood flow, your body submitting to him and flushing like his does. A sliver of skin that your shirt exposes catches his attention—and at the sight of the flesh of your breasts spilling through, his cock twitches, his breath ragged, eyes droopy and so, so drunk. He pinches your nipples, still through that silken fabric, as if he was punishing you for causing him this unfair pain. 

Knead, flick, pinch. Your noises are obnoxious, his heat in you rising and rising, and you can’t take it anymore. The drum in your clit thuds and you push him away, the pleasure too overwhelming, too good and too arousing. 

And he pushes away the fabric, revealing your perky breasts. A glint settles on the edge of his irises and he gives you a coy smile before he smashes his mouth against yours, moving it in a rhythm that reflects the one in your bundle of nerves. And you grind, you grind like your life depends on it, your nipples and your pussy rubbing against him, against his icy dog tags, getting you closer and closer to your orgasm. And you would come like this had he not physically ripped you away from him. 

Heaving, he focuses, all over again, on the ruination he makes of you. The warmth in you flits so invitingly that you have to touch the places he did—your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. And as you do, you watch his gaze darken, you watch him nod his head, and wipe the corner of his mouth clean, catching his drool. 

“You feel it, don’t you?” he rasps, following the invisible traces you left on your body. Your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. “Right here. Life. Beautiful life.” He teases your hardened nub, circling it with the pads of his fingers, sliding it between his knuckles and squeezing, his smile growing with each shudder of your chest, with each response. “It’s time to make you come and let it out, you ready? Let’s take these off.” 

He tugs off your pajama pants, throws it behind his shoulder, examines the large wet stain on your panties that he coos at, raspily, petting it with his thumb—and you’re so turned on that even such faint touch like that brings you pleasure. You hold onto his arms for dear life, depending on him, trembling when the panties and the shirt are next, tossed upon the pile of your pants. 

You’re bare and he’s still fully dressed. Such titillating unfairness that turns you unhinged, maddened by liveliness your body is diffused with. 

Hoseok pins your legs back. Takes one hand and glides his fingers across your entire femininity, soaking them in the dew he has coaxed out of you, moaning gutturally. 

“He never made you wet like this, did he?” he asks, pride dripping out of him like his masculine pheromones, and with his wet fingers he palms himself. “You don’t even have to answer that. I know. I need to taste you, baby.” 

You don’t even get to fill a lungful of the stuffed, vanilla-scented air and he dives in, keeping your legs glued to your shoulders as he seizes your clit in his mouth, sucking on it briefly before he flattens his tongue all over you. He licks you like a lost man finding an oasis, humming into your heat while he tastes your personal slickness, swallowing everything he sowed. You bang your head on the wall, a numbed pang expanding all throughout your scalp by your claw clip, taking it all, moaning so loudly the whole of Seoul must be hearing you. Even Namjoon in his drunkenness, shameful that he never managed to eat you like this in the eight months you were his to consume. 

Your orgasm inches to you quickly. With half-lidded eyes, you watch the candlelight create sublime, eccentric images on his back. And as if he couldn’t handle the warmth anymore, he peels himself away from you just to take off his shirt, adding it to the pile. He doesn’t let you see his muscular body—he plunges back down, tongue outstretched, flicking the muscle on your swollen clit. He pinches your thigh, your mound, your folds, whimpering onto your flesh, hurrying to close his mouth over you to suck your clit. 

And within that divine suction, you come apart. The beautiful images on his back advance, fluttering on his smooth skin, and you hold him to yourself. The life in you explodes, saturating him in a dimmed, soft-hued, colorful light that he himself must be sensing because he moans, loudly, sinking his index finger inside your clenching hole. You can’t speak, you can’t breathe—you can only feel, you can only take. Your orgasm continues on, a ceaseless stream of delight untwisting in every part of your body. 

And when he begins to fuck you with that finger of his and hits that good spot, your orgasm melts into another one. And this time, you can’t take it. 

You shake so vivaciously that you fall off the edge of the couch, but he catches you. Hoseok unclips your hair and lays you down, propping your hips on the armrest instead and when he bends at the waist and opens his mouth, you scream out your disagreement, pushing him away. 

He blinks at you, mouth sopping wet. “I wasn’t finished.” 

Your oxygen is stuck in your throat, one that gets bespeckled with the beads of your dew. “Hoseokie—”

He traces it, wiping it off, holding you there. Presses his hard, clothed length against your bare pussy, rocking slowly, casting a private, affection-filled shadow with the arch of his body over yours. Hoseok kisses you once, a nasty kiss perfumed with your tangy scent, and you cry out. 

“The fact you can’t take the bare minimum personally offends me. He had you all to himself and he didn’t do his job well,” he mutters, squeezing your throat once. Drags his wet hand down your sternum, grasping a hold of both of your breasts, clenching them until they flush, again, like him. 

There it is, the saltiness of his sea. You yearn for the physical principle of it coating your tongue—for his cum to trickle out of the tip of it like your dew is off of his. And his words, his anger towards his best friend because of you—it heals you in a way you could never heal yourself. Another person seeing you and telling you that you deserve better, it is the most pristine form of remedy there is and you splutter on the whole beauty and compassion of it all, too weak to accept it at once. 

“That’s right,” you agree, as enthusiastically as your dopeness allows you, smiling lopsidedly, heart pounding. “Go slow on me.”

He croons, squeezing his eyes. “My little girl.” 

He buries his face in your neck, kissing you there, and along with the life in you—your heart explodes, too. The finality of your detransformation. Tears of joy ache in the corners of your eyes, the rawness of human fulfillment housing in you for all eternity. 

He kisses his way down to your breasts. “I’ll go slow on you,” he promises, darting out his tongue and flicking it over your nub, making you tremble. He straightens and dances his fingers along your thighs—up to your knees. “Do you want to stop here?” 

You shake your head. Place your feet flat on his toned stomach while you feel your dew dribble down your bum. Hoseok smiles, his mouth curving in that way of his that causes your own stomach to drop. He holds your heels, hooking his finger under the band of your socks and yanking them off. 

And his grin blooms at the sight of your dusty-pink toes, an endeared look thawing his eyes. He rubs them like he did at the beginning of this journey, keeps one at his stomach while he lifts the other one to his mouth. 

Your poor heart skips a beat. 

“Do you want me to fuck you like a little girl like you deserves?” 

He kisses the ball of your foot, doesn’t break the eye contact. Watches your mouth part in absolute astonishment and your cheeks deepen in their hue. And when he kisses it again, slower this time, it wakes you up from your stupefaction, and you lower your free foot down to his clothed cock. Hoseok groans, the sound muffled against your tootsie, shutting his eyes at the impact. Your chest flickers with a sense of pride that you made him react like that—and you want it again. You trail your toes across that length of his, but before you could reach the most sensitive part of him, he stops you. 

Sucks in that pained breath of his, red all over. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.” 

You mirror him, the idea of being capable of doing that to him pleasuring you. You leak onto the couch. Your blood boils. 

“That’s so hot.” 

He chuckles, anchoring your foot upon his heart, tapping it with your big toe. “It’s because you have my heart.” 

Your body ceases all work, as well as time. Even the candlelight pauses its dance, concentrating its caressing radiance on that chain of his. 

And you don’t think as you scurry onto your knees and embrace him, his dog tags no longer icy. He plants his nose into your hair, inhaling you, sealing you into the hug with both of his arms. Your heart reaches its own towards his and they cling to each other, too. 

And you’re not afraid to reciprocate his feelings—they’re as clear to you as that very luminescence of the vanilla candle. 

“You have me,” you whisper into his ear, his body not quivering but stable, safe. “You have my life. It’s more of a treasure than my heart.” 

He had you the moment he so evidently disapproved of your past relationship. He had you the moment he was curious to see if you were jealous when he was entertaining other women. He had you the moment he purposefully put a distance between you and him because he didn’t want you to get hurt by Namjoon. 

You just didn’t know it yet, not until clarity arose in front of you in the form of his honesty. 

Hoseok kisses your own ear, lingers there. “I want both.” 

“Then, have it.”

And he kisses your forehead. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.” 

You can see in the ivory mist of his eyes that he means it—and so you tug off his military belt as you begin to pepper kisses down the column of his neck because he deserves it, because he cares for you, because he came to you as soon as he heard that you were single. And when you reach those dog tags, the words of his title imprinting themselves onto the surface of your lips, you clasp his cock in your hand. Too big for your small fist, too warm for you to handle—

“Lay back down.” 

You bite into the flesh right above that first steel pendant while keeping your eyes locked on his. “Yes, Sergeant.” 

Hoseok curses. Wrings a sharp gasp out of you when he pulls on your hair, giving you a nasty kiss full of tongue. “Don’t call me that when I need to be gentle with you,” he scolds, sucking on your bottom lip to make it better and you disintegrate. “Right now I would bend you over this couch and fuck you until Sergeant and Sir was all you knew, but I can’t do that. Not when you’re not used to me yet.” 

Yes, the promise of the sea—you convulse from head to toe, pining after it. 

“I want that so bad.” 

He nods, marking you on your neck. You whimper and he groans in response. “And I’ll give it to you, you just need to be good now. Lay down.” 

You comply, but you take him with you—grabbing him by that chain as you arch your back on the couch. He lets you, grins at you like the utmost sunshine, but that expression of delight breaks when a certain realization dawns upon him. 

“I didn’t bring any condoms.” 

You huff out a soft noise. “Good. I want you to come all over me.” 

Hoseok hangs his head low, sighing, on all fours above you. His chain swings, drawing the memory of this very night on your breasts. He looks up at you from this position, his eyes thin slits that cause you to clench around nothing. 

“I’ll give you a big load.” 

You beam like the purest angel, in spite of the context. “Yes, please.” 

Hoseok rolls his eyes back, his façade cracking, and he beams just the same, his mouth widening in the shape of a heart that moves through you. He kisses you deeply, a long peck that breaks you down into a putty, and when he withdraws, you can still see that smile plastered on his glowing face. 

“Good girl. Such good manners.” 

And with that praise, he sheathes himself inside you. You both gasp in union, entering a paradise no other human will ever witness in the afterlife. He stretches you out, slowly, careful not to hurt you as he waits it out, petting your hair in the meantime. 

“I can feel you stretching around me, fuck. You’re so warm, so tight for me,” he rasps, panting, that smile trembling on his lips as he tries to keep it together. He straightens, pinches your nipple and you feel yourself accommodating him quicker at that sudden electricity of pleasure, at the sight of his toned body and that chain. The shine of sweat, the dance of the candlelight, the width of his shoulders and carmine chest as it heaves in desperate hums and groans. You could come just from that—and the sensation is so dizzying that your eyes droop. Hoseok notices, grappling the crook between your neck and shoulder. “Stay with me, baby, you can take this. I’m gonna make you feel so good and you’re gonna come on this cock.” 

Those hums of his cruise all the way to your mouth as he sinks that encouragement into it, kissing you deeply, pinning your hands back above your head and sliding his fingers into a celestial intertwinement with yours. They throb within you, those words of his, where they disperse all around, helping you believe that you truly can take the whole manliness of him. Your mind spins, the pressure of your shared atmosphere ringing in your ears, and he knows, he knows that you’re ready for him.

“I’m gonna start moving now. Talk to me, baby. Tell me everything you’re feeling as I fuck you,” he murmurs, unsheathing himself a tiny bit before he curls his hips forward and upwards, creating a languid, spine-tingling rhythm that replicates the waves of his sea. They slosh to and fro with every slow stroke and he kisses your good spot with the tip of his cock. Your eyes flutter open and close, rolling like those waves, but you can still see the way his jaw is clenched, his gums on full show as he seethes in his self-control, the flush of his neck and the flexing of his abdomen that you can’t help but to touch in your otherworldly daze. He stares down at you, intensely, narrows his eyelids and furrows his brows when he feels your touch, and you discover that the spot, where his V-lines lead to your antidote, is one of uttermost sensitivity. 

He moans, burying himself deep in you, and stopping there. Mound to mound, soul to soul.

“Fuck, baby, you just know where all my spots are, don’t you?” he asks, his voice so terribly strained, torso doubled over, and you grin. 

“I think I was born already knowing them,” you flirt and Hoseok pounds into you for it—a singular thrust that scrambles all your brain cells. Your smile falls, your brows crunch, your throat utters such whiny noise that he himself grunts at the sound of it, and when you lift yourself onto your elbows to see his length driving in and out of you, he pushes you right down by your throat, kissing you hard enough that it hurts.

And he alleviates the lip lock by licking over your tongue, toying with it—all while he, little by little, picks up the rhythm, fucking into you with a force that coaxes your rawest moans out of you. 

“You can’t handle my tongue and I can’t handle it when you flirt with me,” he scoffs, smacking his mouth as he turns his head, claiming your mouth, claiming you. “God, I wanna destroy you so bad.” 

Your cry is cut out by another savage thrust and you claw at that sensitive spot of his, inciting him to do it again and again. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

He pauses, the crown of his cock teasing the beginning of your heat. Sweat drips down his temple and he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that makes your heart twitch in absolute sensuality and relish. 

“Say that again.” 

Your breath hitches. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

Hoseok curses, driving into you all the way. You whine out, clenching your fists, feeling every ridge and every vein of his cock glide forwards and backwards along your walls. And by tensing your body and focusing on the delight he’s gracing your body with, the build-up of your orgasm announces its presence.

“Fuck, Hobi, you feel so good,” you cry, gripping his forearms as he begins to hold your waist steady. He jackhammers into you so viciously that your vision scatters with a creamy hue of ivory, moaning in ragged staccatos that influence you so much that you naturally imitate them, fading into him, becoming one. 

“Whose are you?” he growls without interfering with the gracefulness of his sadism, moving back only an inch before slamming back into you, bruising your cervix—and you lose all brain cells, the synapses blanking out. 

But only one thing is clear. 

“I’m yours.” 

And the following snap of his hips drives you out of this world and out of this universe. The gravity keeps your muscles tense, confining your pleasure and the closeness of your orgasm within. The ringing grows in volume and you’re on the cusp. 

Hoseok is, too, because he begins to beg. 

“Please, please, baby. Come for me. I’m so fucking close for you. Please, I’m gonna come all over you.” 

And with a scream that vibrates through the walls of your living room, you comply. Your core grips him, your skin prickles and you levitate—your back arches off the couch, aching to be closer to him, and Hoseok whines. 

Pulls out, straddles you, and fist-fucks his shaft with frantic, frenzied motions. Covers you with ropes and ropes of his cum that ripple on your stomach, your sternum and your breasts as you drift in and out of consciousness. Warm, warm essence of his masculinity that is warmer than the rest of him. 

Blood-hot. 

And you feel as though you deserved every drop. 

Deserved to see the beauty of his orgasm. The flush of his lower regions, especially. The sight you longed to see. 

Hoseok lets go of his manhood, his hand shiny and wet, though he’s still hard, reaching the beginning of your parting lungs with how big he is. Bigger than Namjoon, bigger than anyone you ever dated. Their names wither in your mind, decomposing. And they lose all meaning. 

They cease to exist. 

You’re not his best friend’s ex. You’re not anyone’s ex—

“Look at how little you are,” Hoseok comments, interrupting the surge of your maddened thoughts. He smears the puddle of cum on your stomach that his cock can reach and your pussy flutters in constant motions that ask for him again. “So little under me and all mine, aren’t you?” 

His avowal brings a fresh dose of oxygen into your lungs and you breathe it in. Want to breathe it in for the rest of your life with him. 

But Hoseok doesn’t stop there. Once you agree with him by the nod of your head and a dopey, gratified grin that casts an affirming light on him, he bends over you, his fists on either side of your head. 

“I’ll show you what true possessiveness looks like. The world will burn if it hurts you and if people say one bad word to you, it will be the last one they ever said. But they will talk to you and you will talk to them. You will learn about this life of yours. What it holds, what it looks like. And I’ll be standing beside you and I’ll watch over you. Learn it, live it with you.” 

He rubs your forehead with his thumb in a fond gesture. Looks at you with a mute meaning that touches your heart and crawls inside before he kisses you, relaxes his lips against yours, and kisses you again. 

Again and again. 

Again in the shower. Again in your bed when you’re riding him, tasting the life he let out of you, because you blazed up with desire after you washed his body. And the sex is quiet, smothered with those kisses until your mouth and his is numb. 

And again throughout the years you acknowledge yourself with that life and realize that you understand it more profoundly and clearly in the process of getting to know Hoseok than this world. 

Hoseok is that life. 

And you kiss him and whisper those words onto his mouth when you marry him at the altar, years and years later, connecting your life and his forever. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[perfectlyoongi]

HUSBAND!HOSEOK who makes you a bracelet as a marriage proposal. it was common for Hoseok to give you gifts made by him, he just to create and liked you, it was only logical that you would receive all of his work; so, you weren't suspicious when he gave you a small white bracelet, but it was when you noticed the small golden letters that your heart quickened a little, your wide smile appeasing a rather nervous Hoseok. “i promise i will give you a ring. i just found it more special this way. so… what do you say?”

HUSBAND!HOSEOK who takes you to a fast food restaurant in the middle of your wedding just because you said you wanted a burger. you mentioned it by chance, without really caring about your words, but that was enough for Hoseok to tell you that it was only a few minutes and that it was quick, he swore to you that no one would notice you were missing; Hoseok just wanted to make sure that day was going to be perfect for you, and if that involved leaving your party to buy a simple burger, he didn't mind leaving for a few minutes — he just wanted to see you happy. “from this moment onward, whatever you need or want, i will make sure you have it. you will be the happiest person in the world. that is my mission.”

HUSBAND!HOSEOK who makes a collage album of your memories to give you on your first anniversary. it wasn't just the photographs from Hoseok's gallery that portrayed your times as friends and partners, there were also movie tickets, cards of flower bouquets, small dried leaves and stuffed animal tags, various tiny items that sculpted your relationship into the epitome of love; so, Hoseok worked whole nights on a small album, choosing each photograph and item in detail, ensuring that that gift made you as happy and emotional as it made him. “i also have dinner planned at the first restaurant we went to and a boat trip afterwards. but for now, i think our memories are enough.”

HUSBAND!HOSEOK who makes tiktok couples trends with you. he didn't publish anything, sometimes he didn't even record, but Hoseok liked to see couples trends on the app, dance challenges or something else that excited him; they were moments of fun, joy infecting your room between so many attempts and failures, a few minutes of pure abstention, where nothing existed other than you, Hoseok and the music that sounded muffled from his cell phone. “there’s a new trend we have to do! it’s a dance, but i know we’ll get it right the first time!”

HUSBAND!HOSEOK who will exchange shoes with you if yours are hurting you. whether it was winter or summer, whether it was sunny or snowy, it didn't matter, Hoseok was always ready to help you and ease the pain you were feeling; he insisted, almost demanding, that you wear his sneakers or shoes, yours finding shelter in Hoseok's gentle hands. “i’d rather walk barefoot and get cold than see you suffer. give me your shoes and shut up.”

HUSBAND!HOSEOK who dances in the rain with you, no matter how much time passes. whether it was your first week of marriage or ten years later, it was indifferent — Hoseok only wanted you with him while mother nature toasted you with the heavenly water of eternity; there was no need for music or invitation, it already seemed to be a tradition of yours: whenever the rain started to fall when you were together on the street, it was almost guaranteed that he would hold you and make you spin among the most delicate drops of nature, creating eternal smiles on your lips. “it makes me feel like i'm falling in love with you for the first time. my love will never grow old.”

HUSBAND!HOSEOK who will never let the flame of your relationship go out. he would do anything not to lose you. infinite time could pass between you, but Hoseok would always make sure that something fiery and genuine shined in you, because he couldn't afford to lose you, to lose the only person he truly loved and dreamed of his entire life. “i’m not going to lose you. i didn't spend so much time loving you to let you go so easily. i will love you forever and i will make you love me back.”

[katnisspeetaprim]

Always, Us (Suchwita)

Min Yoongi/FemIdol!Reader Requests open!

Warnings: Established relationship, discussion of pregnancy and marriage, idol!au

Word Count: 1506 M.list

‘Today on suchwita, we have someone people have wanted for a long while.’ Yoongi addressed the cameras as you stood at the side, excitedly waiting for your cue. Since Yoongi started his show, fans had wanted you to make an appearance, but there was never a good enough reason for you to appear until now. You don’t know if the reason fans wanted you here because they genuinely liked you, or if they just wanted to be nosey about your relationship now that it was public. Either way, you were happy to do this for Yoongi.

‘It’s Y/N of the group Prima.’ He stood from his seat and welcomed you with a bow, before pulling your chair out for you. You feigned shock as you sat down.

‘This is how you know cameras are around. He’s acting like a gentleman.’

‘YAH! Don’t say that!’ He snorted with a laugh as he sat down opposite you. ‘I’m always kind.’

‘Sure if you say so.’

‘I’m sure you noticed I got your favourite alcohol here. I’ll keep it for myself if you carry on.’ He smirked, gesturing to the various colourful bottles on the table.

‘You wanna play that game?’  You challenged, leaning forwards with a smirk to match his own. Yoongi relented, leaning back and waving his hands with a smile.

‘Ok, we’re getting off topic and we haven’t even started yet.’ You also relaxed, but you knew you had won that round.

‘As I was aying, this is your favourite. Let me pour you a glass.’ You held out your glass and thanked him as he poured.

‘People have been curious about us since we went public right?’ You asked, getting right into why you were there.

‘Yes.’ He agreed, drinking from his own glass. ‘How did it feel for you to finally be open after having to hide it for so long?’ Yoongi had given you a brief run down of the kind of questions that would be asked the night before, so that you could prepare, though you didn’t want to just write and memorise a script, especially when it came to your love life. You wanted your words to be as natural as possible.

‘It felt good to not have to sneak around. I know you were relieved too.’ Yoongi nodded in agreement.

‘It made me feel like we were a couple of horny teenagers sneaking out at night.’ He laughed.

‘Oh yeah you’re right! But looking back I don’t know why we hid it so long. People have been shipping us since we first met pretty much.’ You smiled warmly, thinking back to when you posted a picture of yourself and a young trainee Yoongi onto your groups twitter account. Yoongi wasn’t well know back then, but your fans were curious about your connection to the young trainee.

‘Do you remember how we met?’ Yoongi asked, smoothly moving the conversation along. You didn’t answer right away. You looked down as a subtle blush spread across your cheeks as you thought of the memory.

‘Why are you blushing? Don’t get shy now!’ Yoongi laughed as he called you out.

‘Shut up.’ You mumbled, all in good fun.

‘Ok. I was late for rehearsal and I ended up barging into your guys room by accident.’ You cringe at that part. ‘ You all stared at me and I was so embarrassed, but you also offended me that day!!’ Yoongi raised his eyebrows questioningly. Had he really?

‘Yes!’ You exclaimed, making him a little nervous. ‘You didn’t know who I was! Even though I debuted like 2 years before that!’ Yoongi sighed in relief and rolled his eyes.

‘I told you before! I didn’t know many current groups back then! I was too busy trying to debut myself.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ You crossed your arms with a pout.

‘Why are you pressed about that still? It was over a decade ago!’

‘That’s not the point! I’m your senior so you should respect me!’ Yoongi choked out and exasperated laugh, before he addressed the crew.

‘do you see what I deal with on a daily basis?’

‘You see! This is what I mean.’ You laughed whilst gesturing towards him. ‘No respect...’ Yoongi shook his head, laughing at the interaction.

‘You know, my mom keeps asking me when we’re going to give her grand kids.’ You froze and internally cursed him for bringing up this topic. It’s not like you don’t want babies with him, it just never felt like the right time to try. Especially now with his military service coming up...

‘I always thought we’d try after your enlistment, but we never really discussed it....’ You confessed, feeling the energy of the room die slightly. You saw Yoongi’s eyes widen ever so slightly at your answer, but he covered it up by rubbing his face.

You weren’t lying when you said it hadn’t been talked about, so your answer definitely caught him off guard.

‘We also need to find time for a wedding.’ He played it off cooly, trying to move on with a joke. You frowned to yourself. His reaction was strange. This definitely needed more investigating.

The remainder of filming flew by. You’d managed to avoid any more awkwardness after that and put on a good show. You were fairly certain that part would be cut anyway. It may have been a little too personal to bring it up in that way in hindsight....

‘So, do you want to talk about what you said?’ Both you and Yoongi were sat in his car in the parking lot. You could get a lift from the company driver, but Yoongi proffered the freedom of being able to drive himself. ‘About having kids?’ He looked over to you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Looking down at your hands in your lap, you began to speak.

‘I meant what I said. I want kids with you, but I ... also don’t want to give up my career...’ You trailed off. He sucked in a breath at your words, but stayed silent. ‘I just said that about your enlistment because I didn’t know what else to say.’ You sniffled slightly, but you were determined to not get upset. Yoongi placed a comforting hand on your thigh and leaned across the console.

‘Hey. You won’t loose your career. You really think Bang PD would let you go after all these years?’ He spoke soothingly. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop a few tears escaping your eyes.

‘I know it’s stupid to think this way but-‘ Yoongi quickly shook his head.

‘Don’t talk like that. If you’re upset it’s not stupid, ok?’ He had now moved his hand to the back of your neck, rubbing calming circles into your skin. You slowly looked up at him to see him giving you a reassuring smile. You were unable to stop yourself from reaching up and pulling him into a hug, or as much as you could manage with the gear box between you.

‘I’m sorry I got upset.’ You mumbled into his neck. He craned his neck to place a kiss on the side of your head.

‘Nothing to be sorry for.’ You both stayed like that for a few relaxing moment as you calmed down. Pulling back, you wiped at your eyes before quickly pecking his lips.

‘We need to talk properly at some point, but right now I need you to take me home so I can stuff my face with ice cream.’ Yoongi broke out into his iconic gummy smile as he stared at you.

‘You must be feeling better if you can crack jokes. Now put your seatbelt on woman.’ Yoongi pulled out of the parking lot and started the journey home. You both sat in comfortable silence, only the sounds of the quiet radio played in the car. You thought back to the filming, when you suddenly remembered something he so casually said during the interview.

‘So...’ He glanced at you briefly, before looking back to the road. ‘What was that about a wedding?’  You smirked when he choked on his own spit and clearing his throat.

‘Ah yeah. That...’

‘You haven’t even proposed to me.’ You teased, hoping he might get a hint. Yoongi fully looked at you when he pulled up to a traffic light, smile tugging at his lips.

‘Do you want me to?’

‘I certainly wouldn’t be oppose to the idea!’ You both sent coy smiles to each other and that was that. Conversation over.’ The two of you didn’t need to get married to know you loved each other, but having said that...

And thus, a few weeks later, Korea woke to the news that you and Yoongi had secretly eloped and made your marriage official.

You had a lot of explaining to do to your parents, but you got out of it by promising that you would have a ‘proper’ ceremony at a later date. For now though, you were both content with how things were.

[writingmeraki]

bts ot7 + "can you buy me pads?" texts !

¡ pairing : bf!ot7 x reader ( individual )

! genre : fluff,crack and very random 🙏🙏

¡ warnings : cussing.

! a/n : this being my first bts work is wild. anyways enjoy <3 decided to make a ver for all grps I stan hehehe let me know what u think! promising more future works for BTS for sure! already have a jungkook and taehyung wip hehe

svt ver | enha ver

perm taglist is open ! just send an ask or reply to this ^^

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 !

links : navi ! | bts masterlist | info !

[jjkilll]

-✫HMHAS | i.LUNCH | JJK✫-

— pairing | artist jk x actress y/n

— summary | Jungkook realizes he has a crush on you. One small problem, You're his sister's best friend who she's made clear is off limits.

— warning | smut

— word count | 3.5K

— song | LUNCH - Billie Eilish

2:47 pm

"Jungkook, Y/n is coming over will you straighten up the house before she gets there? She'll be there before I get home." Jungkook listens as his younger sister and roommate explain. "Y/n? I haven't heard about her in forever."

"Yeah, I know! She moved away for school and work, but she's back in town visiting family for a month. So please make sure the house looks good."

"Will do," he replies before hanging up. You haven't seen Jungkook since you and Jangmi's high school graduation. You and Jangmi have grown up together and you two were inseparable. Jungkook always found you adorable, your braces and round cheeks made him think you were as cute as a doll. He couldn't even lie and say he wasn't excited to catch up with you. Your brother Stephen and Jungkook were excellent friends and seeing you reminded him of his good friend. Your families were close and it had been a while, now as adults you could drink and talk shit about your family drama which everyone probably overindulges in.

Jungkook cleaned the shared house and took the best liquor out of the cabinet and the nice crystal his mother bought for him on his 19th birthday. Suddenly he hears a knock at the door. He quickly runs to the door and opens it.

There you stand. No braces but still with the cutest cheeks in the world. Your hair short and brown shined against the sun. You were not the little girl he remembers, you were...hot. "Jungkook!" you exclaim hugging him quickly. "Wow, Y/n you look..."

"I know the plane ride was a little rocky, my hair is kinda a mess. I forgot how humid it is here," you explain brushing through your hair with your hands. Jungkook stood there in awe, his arms still out from the hug. "You look great, is what I was trying to say." he finishes.

"Don't flatter me just let me in, it's hot," you say pointing behind him. "Oh right, sorry" he apologies letting you by.

you kick off your shoes and say "So... do I get a house tour? It's so crazy that we're homeowners now." you say reminiscing. "Yeah sure, although Jangmi will for sure be upset so just act surprised when she wants to show you around." You giggle at his idea and follow behind as you two meet in the corridor. "Don't worry Kook, I can keep a secret." He smiles and asks, "Would you like a drink?" you nod and he pours whiskey into two glasses. He hands you one and you clink them together. "cheers." you say softly.

Your voice sounds like honey to him, smooth, sweet, and soft. He wondered if you'd taste the same. He quickly shook the crazy thought out of his head, he had never thought of you that way and couldn't quite understand why he'd felt that way to begin. You stop at the first door in the hall. "This is my studio and office. It's the best room in the house in my opinion." Jungkook was an artist, and his paintings were gaining popularity in the art world pretty quickly. Everyone seemingly loved his art and so did you. "Can I go in?" you ask starstruck by the art. He nods still standing in the doorway as you walk in. "Kook, these are amazing. I love every single one seriously, you're talented." He shakes his head putting it down shyly. "and you're still so humble. I don't get you." You joke. He smiles, "Thanks Y/n, it means a lot coming from you, really."

"I wish I did though... get you, maybe I'd understand your art more. Get inside your head a little." You say really scanning each canvas not necessarily paying him any attention and taking a small sip from the alcohol. The way you spoke made his body tingle. The sultriness of your voice was music to his ears. "Can I buy one?" You turn around asking him. "You don't have to pay, let it be a gift," he says rubbing his neck. "Hell no! If everyone else has to pay then so do I. And this deserved payment." You point to an abstract piece that no one but your families would be able to recognize. "You painted my our backyards," You pointed out.

You and Jangmi became friends after having to line up according to birthday in 1st grade. So every year until you were both 18 you had a joint birthday party. With your family's gates opening up to each other you basically have a big baseball field-sized birthday party filled with all of your family and friends. It's something you missed after moving away for school.

"Now seriously it'd be an honor if you took it, you're actually the first person to guess it right on the first try and not turn your head to the side and say 'ohhhhh'. You definitely deserve it more." He laughs. "Well, I appreciate it, Kook. It reminds me of how much fun we had as kids." You say giggling along with him, taking another sip from the cup.

"It actually reminds me, I can tell you now so it's not weird and we're grown up but I used to have the most intense crush on you. You took Audriana Cooper to prom your senior year. You were 18 turning 19 and I was 13 getting ready to turn 14 two days later, and I sobbed in the back of my parents' car after watching you make out with her. I did my makeup and everything, hoping you'd notice me it's kinda sad if you think too hard so just... don't" You laugh and he giggles with you.

In that moment you remember how cute you thought he was back then. You'd think about him more than you expressed to Jangmi, but you'd love it when he'd hug you a little tighter so you could smell him. You had always been so drawn to him until the prom incident. Your mom explained to you that you and Jungkook would never work since Jungkook was about to graduate high school whilst you still had three years to finish. Soon after your little crush dissipated, and Jungkook was just your best friend's hot older brother and not SpiderMan or something.

"I don't really know what to say, I can say I was kinda the guy to fool around," he says embarrassed at the memory. "I can't blame you, if anybody looked as hot as you did at 19, I'm sure they'd do the same." You sip your drink once again.

"Are you saying I look old now? I'm only 26." he jokes with you. "No! No! I didn't mean it like that, I mean I still think you're hot." You say before quickly trying to correct yourself. "I just mean like you're attractive... not like in a weird way like I'm super attracted to you, I mean like I'm not saying that I do not find you attractive, I'm just saying- " You stop to take a breath realizing you were rambling on. "You know what maybe day drinking isn't my thing. I say weird things... I'm learning." you sat the cup down on his desk. You close your eyes trying to not be so embarrassed by your randomness.

"Maybe- maybe we should go to the next room?" You question looking at him. "Not like that. I mean you should show me the next room with us both standing outside of it." Jungkook looks at you and laughs. You embarrassed and watched him and joined in after realizing he wasn't upset by your awkwardness. "Someone's a lightweight, huh? Didn't do much drinking in college I guess." you laugh. You shake your head.

"Well if it makes things less weird. When I opened the door I was stunned. Your beautiful Y/n." You blush but turn your head to the window not to look at him, hoping he wouldn't notice. "Come on, I'll show you the next room over." You follow behind him. "This is Jangmi's room, we kinda have our own floors, her office is on my floor." He explains. "We found that working like this is better for us."

"I bet you're so proud of Jangmi. She's found success quickly." You mention Jangmi was a fashion designer, he has recently found herself being the creator director for Prada. She was truly talented. You were beyond happy for her too. She deserves it all.

"I am. Jangmi is still my annoying little sister, but just successful." you laugh. "I'm sorry," you say looking at him with a sad expression. "For what?" he asked confused. "I missed you so much, Stephen always calls to tell me the good things that happened here. It makes me wish I never moved away."

"I mean but look at you, little miss actress. Not even little you have an Emmy. Talk about stardom." Jungkook says bringing up your most recent accomplishment.

You didn't like to talk about your career, acting was fun and the greatest thing to ever come into your life, but it's definitely made you a different person. You went from being a little shy girl to a movie star. "Stop..." You blush looking away from him again. It reminded him you're still the same. Still so cute.

"Don't ever feel bad for chasing your dreams, Y/n. Stephen, Jangmi, and I... we've all chosen different paths. Don't feel bad for choosing yours."

You would be lying if you said Jungkook didn't lift a little weight off your shoulders. Moving to LA was a huge deal and when you first moved you regretted it and often spent nights wondering what was right for you. But, he's right, you chose and thankfully you chose right.

"Plus we're all still here. Look..." he says motioning to himself. "I'm me and you're you. We're still the same." He smiles holding his hand out for a hug. You slowly walk into his arms and you hugs you tightly. "I'm serious, you're great." He kisses the top of your head. "Thanks, Kook"

"What the hell?!" You heard Jangmi scream from down the hall. "Move idiot, you will not hog my bestie!" She runs up pushing Jungkook out of the way. "Jangmi!" You squeal. You lock arms with her going with her to finish the house tour. You turn and nod to Jungkook as a small thank you. He nods back with a small smile on his face. Jesus, he's still so cute.

✫ --------------------✫

8:09 pm

"I could eat her for lunch seriously. She's hot like sexy." Jungkook explains to Namjoon, "Hot like sexy?" he repeats, "Dude she'll never fuck you if you talk like that." He rolls his eyes, punching Namjoon in the shoulder. "Ow, I'm serious. Wait, didn't Jangmi say she was off limits?" He sighs being reminded of the warning from his younger sister. "She'll never have to know." Joon chuckles at his answer. "Hyung, don't laugh this is serious. I don't know what to do."

"Don't date your sister's best friend. That seems like the safest option. If Jangmi finds out, she'll put your head on a stick. I mean, who says Y/n wants to have sex with you anyway?" he asks. "she told me she had a crush on me in high school. I don't just want to have sex with her either. I mean she's a sweet girl. I'd love to take her out somewhere. Get to know her some, she's not the girl I remember."

"But she's into you now?" Joon asks curiously. "I think, you had to see the way she looked at me. It was like hungry like she could eat me alive." Joon shakes his head. "Look all I'm gonna say is this, be careful, and make sure you really want her and you're not lusting over her. you could fuck up years worth of friendship." Jungkook finally realized what was at stake here. It's not just you and his relationship. It's you and Jangmi, him and Stephen, and your parents. He had to be right about this and didn't want to hurt you. You were still someone he cared deeply about. He knew how much you mean to Jangmi too. He didn't want to hurt her either.

✫ --------------------✫

10:46 pm

When Jungkook got back home he found you on the couch with a wine glass in your hand and a satin pink pajama set on. "Oh hey! You're back," you say catching yourself sounding more excited than you should be. "Yeah! Where's Jangmi?" he asks. "She's gotta get up early so she went to bed." you motion to her room. "Want some wine?" You ask him. "Absolutely. What are you watching?" He flops down beside you and you hand him a glass half filled with white wine. "It's called Mr. and Mrs. Smith, it's a new series based on the movie." He hums focusing in on the show. "fuck!" you groan rubbing your neck. "Could you massage my neck and shoulders? Those plane seats seriously suck and an old man fell asleep on my shoulder and I was too nice to move." He laughs nodding and setting his glass on the coffee table. You turn so your back faces him now. He starts rubbing your shoulders and you sigh. "holy shit your hands are magic." you laugh softly.

you're soft, and you smell like flowers and it's getting harder for Jungkook to contain himself. Your wavy hair falls right at your shoulders and is the most beautiful he's ever seen. "Jungkook?" you say lightly. He notices you hesitate before speaking. "What's new in you're life? You know, outside of being an artist. What do you like?" He hums, still rubbing at your shoulders. "Well, I've been working on some music. Nothing serious, like not anything I think is worth releasing." He explains to you. "I would want to hear if you're willing to share. No pressure," you say melting into him. "Absolutely. You have plans tomorrow?" He asks. You shake your head, "Family dinner later in the day but I'm free," you tell him. He hums and the noise of the TV takes over. You focus on his movement. His hands are big and he feels strong and... safe. Something you haven't felt in a while. He feels right.

"So." You say breaking the short silence. He hums acknowledging you. You stay silent for a while nervous the say what you're thinking. He peeks at you from the side. "I hope it's not weird if I ask but..." you trail off.

"Are you seeing someone?" you finally blurt. he chuckles dryly a little shocked by your question.

"I am not. Why'd you ask?" Still rubbing your shoulders gently but firm enough. "I don't know. I was just curious I guess," You lie. You clear your throat and Jungkook stops, and his hand runs down your arm, "Turn around." He says sternly, only seriousness found in his tone. You turn to face him. Your eyes lock for a moment and his eyes grow a little darker "Tell me the truth Y/n." He says. You hesitate looking him in the eyes a little longer before leaning in closely to say,

"I wanted to know before I did this" You kiss him softly. His hand cups your face, pulling you in closer to him. You climb into his lap and slip your tongue into his mouth. He moans into the kiss. He pulls back quickly to look at you. "Jangmi is gonna be pissed," he whispers as you're still a few inches from his face. "I told you, Kook, I can keep a secret." He grips your hips and pulls you closer in. "Fuck, you are so hot," he says before kissing you once more. You feel a tent growing in his pants. You grind against him and he moans into the kiss once more. You nibble on his lip as you pull away. You unbutton his jeans and slip your hand in, you stroke his hard-clothed cock. "Fuuuckk" he groans lowly. "You aren't as innocent as I remember," he says watching your every move. You climb off of him and kneel in front of him. You pull his pants down to his ankles and rub your hand across him. "Can I suck you off?" you ask. He nods, "I need you to say something."

"Yes please." He says quickly. You smile pulling his cock out of his boxers. You stoke him twice before licking his tip, then fully putting it in your mouth. You look up at him before fitting all of him in your mouth. His mouth falls open and you never take your eyes off of him. "Cum in my mouth," you say after sucking on his tip once more. You suck him more stroking him too. "I'm gonna-" you hum as he empties his load in your mouth. you open your mouth to show him his mess before swallowing. You flash him a smile before standing up. You get ready to go to the bathroom before he says "Go upstairs to my room." he says hungrily. you walk up the stairs and he quickly fixes his clothes before following behind.

You're sitting on his bed as he walks in and closes the door. "take off your shorts...panties too." you obey and kick them to the side. he kissed you, you fell backward on the bed and you felt so small under him. He kisses your neck and unbuttons your top. Kissing your tits and down your stomach. He kisses the inside of your thighs and stops every time he gets closer to your cunt. "Jungkook," you moan getting needier by the second. "Please" you beg. Before you can even get your words out, he licks a long stripe up your cunt. Sucking your clit driving you crazy. you moan breathily as you watch him eat you like he's a starving man. your eyes on his and swirls his tongue around your clit. he's so messy, his sheets were an afterthought. The only thing on his mind was making you come all over his tongue. "you taste like heaven." He says before slowly putting his index and middle finger in your cunt. "Fuck, Jungkook please." He curls his fingers hitting the spot to make you see stars. You almost moan loudly but with his other hand he tells you "Suck."

He loved seeing you like this, you were now like a drug to him. He knew he had to have more. Your body drove him insane. Your hips and how perfect your tits looked in your bra.

You obey and wrap your lips around his fingers. "Shhh, doll you don't want us to get caught, do you?" He shushed and truly the rush of getting caught turned you on more. He quickens the pace of his finger his head returning back in between your thighs. Sucking on your clit as he fucks you with his fingers.

you were a moaning mess and he felt good. He felt SO good. You'd do anything for him to make you cum. "Please can I come?" you moan quickly begging him for release. "You're such an obedient girl. Such good manners..." he trails off watching you squirm under him. "Cum for me." He curls his fingers hitting your perfect spot once again and you cum all over his fingers. You see stars and grip his arm tightly and he rubs slow circles on your clit as you come.

He flops down beside you, and you both lay there as your breath slows.

"i think-"

"Maybe we-"

you both speak at the same time. "You first," you say with a small giggle. He smiles looking over at you before he speaks. "I was thinking, maybe we could go out? I feel like we skipped a few steps." He says looking up at the ceiling. "We'll go when Jangmi, leaves for work." You respond. You roll over straddling him. "I know that Jangmi told you to stay away from me... But seeing you again brought me back." His hands draw circles on your lower back. "I want you Jungkook. I have for a long time." He smiles. "I want you too, Y/n." He kisses you deeply.

"Good." you stand after breaking the kiss, his hands lingering as you stand before him. You walk to his connecting bathroom and stop in the doorway. "Can I ask you something?" you say tilting your head to the side. He nods to you, "How did you know I was lying? On the couch, you told me to tell you the truth. How'd you know?" He smiled.

"You've had the same tell since we were kids, but I'm not telling. If I do I'll never know if you're lying to me." You smile at him and roll your eyes. "Whatever, Jungkook. Are you gonna join me in the shower or are you just gonna lay there?" you tease. He hops up quickly, "Right behind you baby." He says stripping himself of the rest of his clothing.

This might just be the start of his new craving. And you've got him wrapped around your finger.

✫ --------------------✫

a/n: AHHHHHH!!! hi I'm in love with Billie's new album and Jungkook, so i thought I'd make this lil series :)))

until next week my dolls.

mwah. 

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (4)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, best boyfriend Jimin, did I say angst????, past drug use, past alcohol addiction, past trauma talk, crying, anxiety, hand holding, touching as a love language, Jimin can't keep his hands to himself, he does try his best though, pining, sexual tension, banter, I love these two A/N: I know we're a couple of weeks late updating, but I've been very busy with moving so I haven't had the energy to write. I did a very quick edit, so this might not be perfect. I'm planning on coming back once I'm in my new place to do a full proofread. Hope you like the update!

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Hand clutching my phone, I sighed. All around me the airport buzzed with life. I had almost forgotten how hectic the Denver Airport was. A few feet away I saw a mother struggling to keep her children together while her husband scrolled on his phone. I must have made some sort of noise, subconsciously voicing my annoyance, because Jimin laughed.

“What’s going on, gran?” He teased, voice light. “See a couple of youngins on your lawn?”

I scoffed, tearing my eyes away from the family. “Just a shitty husband ignoring his children.”

He hissed, sucking in air through his teeth, “The worst kind of dude. Are you alright?”

Softening, I finally spotted my luggage on the conveyor belt. Twisting my torso, I did a light stretch and then quickly snatched the heavy bag up. “Not too anxious, right?”

He had been very worried about letting me come home for a visit. When I had originally brought it up he offered himself up for the job, but I was not a fan of that idea. My friends would definitely bring up our date and I did not want to deal with the awkwardness that would cause. Especially since we had yet to go on it. That would not matter to Hoseok, however, and the teasing would have been endless. Better to spare Jimin from their wrath for just a little while longer.

“I’m cool,” I replied, softening. “Just got my stuff from baggage claim. I’m going to let you go so I can call Andy.”

“Okay bug. See you in a few days.”

Harper had recently started calling me that, forgetting my real name and not caring enough to ask for it. Eloise had tried to scold her for it, but I told her I did not mind it. It caught on with Cameron not too long after that, and soon the entire Park family had started using the little nickname. Jimin thought it was adorable from the beginning but had only started using it after our talk the other night.

I laughed, “I’m going to call you tonight.”

“Aw,” I knew he had that stupid smile on his face. “Miss me that much?”

“Someone needs to make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” I replied, a confident pep in my step I had not had in years. “But yes, I do miss you.”

There was a pregnant pause. 

“I miss you too.”

I could feel my heart melting. I was still getting used to our new dynamic. On most days we were strictly business, and were able to set aside the very large, very apparent elephant in the room. It was not until we had finished with work that those roles dropped, and we were able to just be us. 

Ever since my confession in the car Jimin spoke a hell of a lot more. Apparently, he had a hard time keeping his feelings to himself and chose to talk a little less in order to avoid a slip up. He wanted to give us both a little bit of time to get to know one another before springing his crush on me.

“Going soft, kid?” Playing things off with humor was Jimin’s thing, but it had slowly started to rub off on me. “It’s only two days.”

“I know,” He pouted. “Call your friend. It’s cold and you’ll get sick.”

“Hey,” I cut the teasing tone I had, “You’re not upset I came here by myself, right?”

“No,” He chuckled with an unmistakable fondness. “I’m just messin’ with you. I’m not ready to meet your friends and you need some alone time. We’re good, I promise.”

I sighed in relief, “Okay. Good. I’m going to go now. Talk to you later?”

“Call me when you can,” He replied, voice light.

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, bug.”

I was disappointed to hear the line go dead but knew I could aimlessly walk around this airport all day if given the chance, so long as he was there with me. Trying to get my thoughts back on track, I sent a text to Andy asking if she was here yet. If not, I was already making plans to call Jimin back.

Andy: I’m parked in 5 near C Gates

Andy: Be careful

Andy: Saw a lady almost get hit by a car just now

Me: See you in a sec

Me: Should I be worried?

I knew she was trying to make a joke, but car accident punchlines never went over all that well with me. Even if I knew the chances of that happening to me were almost zero, I really did not want to have a panic attack in the airport parking lot. 

Andy: Not at all. I’m so sorry for even saying anything. I can come meet you at the doors if you want.

Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Sigh of relief. I was fine. 

Me: I appreciate you

Me: Is babygirl here?

Dani would help the spike of anxiety dissipate. The girl was fearless and was sure to be distracting enough to keep me from paying attention to the oncoming traffic. I suddenly wished that Jimin was here. He always knew what to do.

Andy: Jin and I are weak

Andy: We let her play hooky

Bobbing and weaving through bodies, I tossed my phone into my purse and made my way out of the airport. The arrivals station was packed, and I would need to take the automated train to where Andrea was parked. It was my least favorite part about this airport, but it beat Dallas-Fort Worth by a landslide. I had gotten lost in that airport more times than I could count. 

Three minutes later I was getting out of the train and stepping into C Gates. I could smell Auntie Anne’s and felt my mouth begin to water. Checking my clock, I decided it would not hurt to make a quick spot for lunch. Andy would appreciate it and I knew Dani loved their pretzel dog. 

There was a little less traffic in C Gates. More of the expensive airlines let out here, and all you could see were business professionals pacing back and forth. A family on vacation bumped into me while I was waiting in line, and I almost gave up my spot when their toddler started screaming. 

“No, no,” His mother insisted, her hair a mess on the top of her head. “Between the girls and my mom, we’ll be here all day. Go ahead, sweetie.”

Two little girls danced around me as we waited, the line moving at a snail's pace due to the airport being understaffed. They asked me questions incessantly, and while their mother had tried her best to keep them in line, I told her I was fine with the extra attention. I loved kids and the girls were harmless. The boy in her arms kept repeating “pizza” and soon an elderly woman joined them. 

If the girls talked a lot, they had nothing on grandma. Not only did she never shut her mouth, she was loud and obnoxiously laughing every few seconds. The boy was quick to beg to be in her arms and mom got a break. She was back to attempting to corral the girls, but again they did not really listen. 

“They’re only like this when my mom’s around,” She sighed, frustrated and tired. “We’re meeting up with their father and they’re all a little restless.”

“It’s no bother,” I lied. The girls really were not that bad. Just a couple of four-year-olds having fun. The only person who was really getting on my nerves was her mother, but I was not about to say that. “Better to get it out now than in the car, right?”

She cracked a tired smile, “Right.”

Finally, it was my turn to order. The young girl behind the counter gave me an award-winning smile while another young blonde was in the back getting all of the orders out.

“Hi, welcome to Auntie Anne’s. How can I help you today?”

“Can I get one original pretzel, one cinnamon sugar pretzel, and a pretzel dog combo with a lemonade and cheese,” Glancing behind me, I sighed. “Throw in a pizza pretzel, two orders of pretzel nuggets, and whatever else the family behind me wants.”

She smiled, blue eyes twinkling prettily in the bright lights. Turning around I waved the mother over and told her to get something for her and her mother. She put up a small fight, but eventually gave in when she realized I had already put our orders together.

“Thank you so much,” I thought she might burst into tears when my card was approved. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

I shrugged, “It was nothing. Have a nice vacation.”

Walking to the pickup area, my order was already waiting for me. With nothing more than a simple wave, I left the dysfunctional family behind. The grandmother’s loud thank you seemed to echo off of the airport walls, but it was a little less grating now that I knew I would never hear it again. 

Andy threw herself at me when I finally made it outside, little Dani wrapping her arms around my legs with squeals of delight louder than her mother’s. Taking her pretzel, Andy gave me a fat, wet kiss on the cheek and told Dani she could eat in the car. 

“How’s gymnastics, girlie?” I asked the little girl once we were in the car. “Still kicking ass?”

“No,” She laughed. “I quit, like, forever ago. Appa put me in ballet classes.”

I gave Andy a look. The red head rolled her eyes, fixing me with a knowing look. I had been telling Jin to put her in dance for years.

“It’s been two weeks and she’s already trying to talk him into figure skating.”

“You’re a little hustler, huh?” I reached into the back, squeezing her knee. Dani giggled, angling her body away from mine. She was very ticklish. “Keep at it. You know your dad’s a sucker.”

Dani laughed, “My vovó says the same thing.”

We listened to Olivia Rodrigo on our way to the Kim house. Hoseok and Matilda had planned a huge coming back party for me, and from what it sounded like, I was going to meet Tilly’s new boyfriend. 

“Anything I need to know about Max?” I asked.

Andy was almost as in the dark about the guy as I was but was able to tell me he was a tattoo artist from California. The two of them met at Frank’s bookstore and by the end of their conversation Max had managed to get her out to dinner and in his bed. It was a whirlwind romance, one that made me feel uneasy about its foundation, but I was still obligated to be happy for my friend. They could be soulmates for all I knew, and I was not about to judge anybody else for their version of a first date.

“I don’t want to talk about tattoo guy anymore,” Andy whined playfully, turning up the radio when “Good 4 U” came on. “I need to know more about your little boyfriend.”

I groaned, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

This was why I was so adamant Jimin stayed away. We had yet to have a real talk about what we were, choosing to wait for our first date to iron out those details, but no one in my circle seemed to understand. All they heard was the word date and suddenly wedding bells started going off. 

“Stop deflecting. We both know he’s your boyfriend, official or not,” She laughed, stealing looks at her daughter in the rearview. “What’s he like?”

It was a hard question to answer. On the one hand, I felt like I knew him better than anybody else, but I was self aware enough to know I didn’t. His body language, the way he looked when he beat his best time, and all of his preferred gear were seared into my mind. The movies he liked, his favorite albums, and all of the best tv shows ever made. He went to college. He was the sweetest, kindest, most understanding person I had ever met, and yet… he still felt far away. The shadows that oftentimes clouded his vision were still a mystery to me, and when he came into practice with a lost look on his face, I felt helpless. I knew him and yet I didn’t.

“He’s quiet,” I finally landed on. “Very nice. Always willing to help other people out if he can. You’d like him.”

Andrea scoffed, “That’s it? The first guy you’ve dated in years and all you can tell me is I’d like him?”

“We’re still getting to know each other,” I sighed. “What do you want to know?”

We spent the rest of the car ride going over the last two months' worth of pining. I told her about Fiona, Jimin’s family, and all of my new friends. She almost pissed herself laughing when I told her about the night he asked me out, making so many Hoseok and Tilly jokes I had a difficult time focusing on the story. Andrea seemed to be finished with her interrogation when we pulled up at her house. 

Dani ran to the front door, her excitement about the party making any discomfort I had disappear. It was hard to feel uncomfortable with her around. Taking my hand in hers, the little girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, shouting at her mom to hurry up, and opening the front door anyway. Andy told her to calm down, and I just chuckled and went along with it.

The living room was filled with all of my favorite people, a large ‘welcome home’ sign hanging on the large, backwall. Underneath it was a huge table covered in food, a cake in the middle of it, and I had a feeling Sarah made it. Both her and Frank were the first people to notice me, their faces lighting up, and I let go of Dani’s hand in favor of embracing the elderly couple. The rest of the party comers erupted their voices loud and filled with love as they took turns passing me around. 

“Missed you, Otter,” Hoseok murmured in the crook of my neck, hands secured around my waist.

“Missed you more,” I replied, releasing him and catching Tilly. “Jeez, girl. Trying to kill me?”

“Come meet Max,” She replied, dragging me away from Hoseok.

Max was a tall, lanky guy with black hair that fell down his back. His clothes were on the baggier side, all black, and I recognized the band on his t-shirt from the shit Matilda liked to listen to in the car. He smiled at me, and I was surprised to see him rocking adult braces. He introduced himself, his voice deep and warm, and shook my hand. They were baby soft and covered in tattoos. 

“It’s great to see you,” I replied, genuinely meaning it. If I had to picture a guy more perfect for Tilly, I would come up empty handed. “Thanks for coming.”

He flushed, impossibly pale skin turning a bright shade of red reminding me of Jimin. 

“Anything for Mattie,” He replied.

Huh, he had his own nickname for her and everything. I would need to hang out with Max more before I could say if I liked him or not, but so far, I had a good feeling. Andrea’s worries seemed a bit silly now. They really liked each other, and Tilly’s heartbreaking, dimpled smile made me feel more confident in her partner. They would be just fine. 

The party was fun, and I ate more spinach and artichoke dip than was healthy. Hoseok and I talked about my afterschool visit tomorrow. The boys had a swim meet Saturday and the two of us were hoping we could tag team in order to iron out any issues they had been having. I was being placed in charge of the freshmen while Hoseok made sure the other kids were feeling confident and ready for the meet.

"Let's party!" Frank boomed, lifting a beer into the air.

I laughed, "Be careful, old timer. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

I thought of Jimin again. That sounded like something he would say. Surrounded by the people I loved, I laughed hard and partied harder. The plates of food came one right after the other, and I was happy that I still had a place here. Falling back into my step, I fit seamlessly back into the fold.

"Dance with me," Hoseok demanded, tipsy and red-faced.

"It's your toes," I replied, taking his head and letting him take the lead.

The other couples were already dancing and hooped and hollered as I awkwardly followed the steps. I was not always a bad dancer but lost some of my rhythm in the accident. Hoseok never minded and let me step on his feet without a single complaint.

"You look happy," He commented, spinning me around.

I smiled, "I am."

He smiled back, wincing when I stomped down on his toes again. I apologized, but he just held my hand a little tighter and kept moving. I hummed along to the song, filled with joy. He spun me again, and finally let me go when I slammed into Jin.

"Go get some cake or something," He laughed. "You're too dangerous to be out here."

I rolled my eyes, "I tried to tell you. It's your fault you don't listen."

"Don't need you anyway. I have enough swag for the both of us."

I watched, thoroughly amused from the sidelines, as he moon-walked around the living room.

I left just before midnight after staying behind to help Andy and Jin clean up. The others left a few hours before to get back to Denver at a decent time. My house looked the same as always, dark and empty, but I could tell the landscapers had been around. The grass was recently cut and edged.

The silence inside was deafening. I had always known my place was too big for one person, but after spending so much time in my little she-shed at the Andersons’ house, everything here just felt excessive. Tossing my keys in the bowl beside the door, I wiped my eyes and decided to just head to bed. I would only be here for three days. I would be back in Saline before I knew it.

Dragging my body upstairs, this sudden depression-filled fatigue made my shoulders feel ten times heavier. A chilling, almost insidious, hollowness began to spread across my body. I knew this feeling all too well and it made me feel pathetic. Could I not be on my own anymore? Had I really grown that attached to my life in Michigan? Finally getting into my bedroom, I realized that I had.

Saline was perfect. Living in Colorado Springs has always bothered me. The people here held more traditional values and making friends was difficult. I had Andy and Jin, but they were both very busy people. Andrea was a full-time nurse, Jin’s schedule was somehow even more erratic than his wife’s, and when they were off, they wanted to spend time with Dani. I was lucky if I saw them once every two weeks. 

Hoseok, Tilly, and Minho all lived in Denver, and while I saw them more often due to the meetings with Frank and Sarah dragging me into the city, it was not like we hung out every time I was out there. Days would go by with me speaking at all, and most of my weekends were spent in bed sleeping. Working at the school helped, but I would never claim anyone from the swim team to be a friend. I was not in the habit of befriending children.

Living in Saline was different. Jimin was always there to make me laugh, and when he wasn’t, I had people like Taehyung and Sam to keep me company. Giselle was young, but we got along so well I often forgot about the difference in age between the two of us. Megan and Yoongi were Michigan’s own version of Andy and Jin, and I could see myself becoming good friends with them given enough time. No one had kids, no one was too busy trying to keep up with crazy expenses, and I could find a little house away from the rest of the world to spend my life in.

I thought of the Parks, a family who I had come to love more than I thought was possible, and the Andersons who took me in and always tried to make me feel comfortable. Eloise and her kindness. Luna and Cameron. All of them. I loved and adored every single one of them, and it was then that I finally let myself really think about what I wanted.

Did I want to come back here after I was finished with the season? Did I really want this massive house if it meant I had no one to share it with? No, I decided. Stripping out of my clothes, the numbness was being replaced with a different strange feeling. It felt suspiciously like hope. Excitement came to me so rarely it was foreign and odd, but nice all the same. Jittery, I took my phone out of my pants pocket.

“Hello?” Jimin’s voice was scratchy when he finally picked up.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, but it’s okay,” I could hear him shuffling around in his bed. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, climbing into bed. Then, without thinking, I blurted, “I think I want to move to Michigan.”

I held my breath as I waited for his response. There was no telling how this conversation would go, but I was hopeful. Even if this whole date thing did not go very well, I was positive that we would be able to move past it with a little bit of time. We worked well together and if he was comfortable with it then we could continue working together. Regardless, there was always coaching at a school.

“Like, permanently?”

I nodded but after a moment of silence remembered he could not see me.

“Yeah.”

My stomach started to churn. As the silence on the other end began to stretch, the excitement I felt before faded. Even if I said Jimin and I could get past a potentially awkward break up of sorts, I would not pretend that the thought did not make me physically ill. We would never be the same if that happened. It would be something to think about if it came to pass before the Olympics was over.

“Did something happen?” He finally asked, and I could hear the genuine worry in his tone. “Are you okay?”

The fear shifted to hurt, irritation, and anger, making my eyebrows knit together.

“I’m fine,” I could not keep the bite from my voice. It was petty and wrong of me, but his insinuation that I was not in my right mind was insulting. It made me feel like a child. “Just- forget I said anything. I don’t know what I’m even talking about.”

“Don’t do that,” His steady calmness made me even angrier. “I’m only asking you because it came out of the blue, not because I’m not happy with the idea.”

Now I just felt silly. Here I was making these small revelations, waking him up from his sleep, and then getting snippy because he did not respond the way I had wanted him to. Ugh, I wasn’t even his girlfriend yet and I’m acting like Darcy. A shiver went down my spine. That was an insult above all others.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the attitude from a few seconds before gone as quickly as it came. “I got defensive for no reason. Sorry.”

He chuckled, the sound barely audible over the phone.

“I forgive you. Now, why do you want to pack your life up for good?”

That made me laugh. It was a sad, pitiful sound. One that did not hold my usual spunk. One I don’t think Jimin had ever heard before. It was impossible to feel sad when he was around.

“I forgot how quiet my house is,” I admitted softly. “I love my friends, but I think coming back just reminded me of how easily I was able to fall back into the routine of it all. Jin and Andy are parents, Tilly has a new boyfriend, and Hoseok and Minho are always so busy with their own lives that I don’t see any of them as often as I would like to.”

Turning on my side, I blinked back a few tears.

“It might sound stupid, but I really do love Saline. I like how busy I am and all of my friends. I bought this place with the hopes of kids and a dog one day, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and now it’s just rooms collecting dust. I just-” I let a tear fall, my emotions starting to bubble over. “I don’t like how lonely it feels out here.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like it there. Have you always felt like this?” He asked.

I shook my head, the tears free falling in between sniffles and shaky breaths.

“Not always. Ever since Namjoon died things have been weird. There was a point when I felt suffocated because no one would leave me alone, and then one day everything resumed, and I just got left behind. It was like I woke up and two years just passed me by.”

Jimin comforted me while I cried, telling me how much he hated to hear me so upset, while I worked on calming down. There had been a time in my life when I was not so emotional, but therapy had opened up a whole new side of myself I didn't know existed. Rubbing my face, I sniffled and sank deeper into my mattress. For now, the waterworks had stopped.

“You were recovering,” He soothed. “Your body needed time to heal, and you were traumatized. I don’t think anyone can blame you for zoning out for a bit.”

I hummed, “I know. Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”

“I know how you feel. When I pulled out of the Olympics last time there was a part of me that felt like a huge failure, but my dad was there to help get my head back on straight. He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s a really great shoulder to cry on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” My voice was like sandpaper. “James is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

I felt heavy. Worn. Used. My eyes begged for me to shut them, but we were just getting back into safer waters, and I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I yawned, covering my mouth and hoping Jimin could not hear the sound. He had gone quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence that had formed around us. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Shoot,” I forced myself to smile.

“What happened to Namjoon?”

I closed my eyes. This was something I knew would come up sooner or later. My lip wobbled uncontrollably as the second wave of tears crashed over me. I hated talking about this, but I knew it was going to come up sooner or later. Jimin deserved the truth, and honestly, I wanted to tell him. Being vulnerable with someone felt good. Being vulnerable with Jimin was divine. He was always so ready and willing to go along with things, listening and watching my every move, and trying his best to understand me. It was refreshing. It was nice. It was familiar.

“Was he in the accident with you?” He asked and his voice was so, so gentle. 

“Yeah,” I croaked, finally finding my voice. “I went out with some of my friends and got pretty drunk. I was tired and ready to go home, but my ride didn’t want to go home yet. So, I called Joon.”

I sucked in a deep, loud breath. Jimin told me I could stop, that I didn’t owe him anything, but I ignored him. This wasn’t about owing him. This was about letting the guy I liked get to know me. This story was a part of who I was, as fucked up as that may sound, and I wanted him to get to know this facet of my life as deeply as he knew the present day one. 

“Anyway,” I continued. “He offered to come and pick me up. Twenty minutes later I’m getting into his car and we’re on our way home. We’d just gotten engaged and bought our first house together- things were perfect. I had never been happier.

“We ended up taking the long way home because of an accident on the interstate. It was my idea, and Namjoon had a knack for going along with whatever I wanted. We were only two minutes away from the house when we got hit.”

I took a few deep breaths and wiped my face. Jimin was quiet on the other end. After a minute or two, I jumped back into the story.

“There was a four-way intersection around the corner from our place. Our light was green when we drove up. I don't think he thought to check if there was another car coming. He never even saw the truck. He, uh, died on impact.”

“Jesus,” Jimin breathed.

“The other guy was drunk as hell behind the wheel. Not paying attention. Funny thing is, he was the only person who didn’t get critically injured. Just a broken arm and a concussion. He wrapped our car around a light pole. My leg was pinned between the car and the light, and the airbag is what caused the brain injury.”

Jimin cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah,” I gritted out. “Me too.”

He let me cry for a little while, saying over and over again how sorry he was and how he wished he was in Colorado with me. I did not have anything to say to him. It felt like my chest had been ripped open and my heart was on full display. 

I never questioned how quickly we went from barely talking, to joking around, to sitting up late at night on the phone talking about life. It just happened. Clutching my phone in my hand, I let out a deep breath and held back any more tears from falling. I never said it, but I wished he was here, too.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle when he spoke, so fragile and sweet, that I had to force down the sobs threatening to come out. “I just want to say I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. You wanting to move here is probably the best thing I’ve heard all fucking year, but I just didn’t want to sway your decision.”

Sniffling, I tried to tell him I wasn’t upset, but he shut me down almost immediately.

“Let me finish,” His voice did not leave room for argument. “I know I don’t act like I’m insecure, but I am. I can be selfish and self-centered, and I’ve always had to really work on those parts of myself.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything,” I mumbled, curling into a ball beneath my blankets. 

“Like I said, I can be a very selfish person,” He sighed. “There was this part of my brain just wanting to hear you say you were coming here and staying with me for forever. I didn’t want that to take over the narrative. And- no offense, but if you did move all the way out here just to date me, I think I’d be a little creeped out honestly.”

I snorted. Hearing that he felt the need to explain any of that to me felt like a small win, even if it did make an alarm go off in my head. It took courage to be that open and honest with another person, especially someone who just cried their eyes out. His compassion and understanding never failed to amaze me, and I was grateful he trusted me enough to let me into his mind for once. Still, it did not make the creep comment any less funny.

“Don’t laugh,” He whined, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “I’m being serious.”

“So do you want me to be a creepy stalker or not?” I joked, hoping to lighten up the mood. “Make up your mind, kid.”

“I think I just want you to be yourself,” I melted. “That’s been working out just fine so far. I mean, if you are a creepy stalker, you managed to get me to like you.”

“Mission accomplished,” I breathed, still reeling from his sweet words. “You better watch out, 007. There’s a new spy in town.”

“So, I’m Bond and you’re Joe Goldburg?”

“Exactly,” My cheeks hurt from how much I was smiling. “Penn Badgley would be a decent James Bond. He was really great in Margin Call.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile.

“Holy shit, you actually watched it?”

Margin Call was one of Jimin's favorite movies from 2011. He kept a very large notebook filled with all of the movies he’s ever seen, along with ratings, and if he should ever watch them again. He went through it one day and came across the action film, rewatched it, and then spent most of the day talking my ear off about how great it is. 

“Someone I know was very passionate about it, and it managed to pique my curiosity.”

Jimin sighed, but I could not tell what emotion was behind it. Definitely was not anger or frustration. Not sadness either. 

 “What time are you getting back on Sunday?” He asked, and I could definitely hear the affectionate tone his voice had taken on.

“Um,” I thought about it for a moment. “Six, I think.”

“PM?” 

“Yeah,” I curled up under my blankets. It was beginning to get really cold inside, but I did not want to get up to turn the heat on. “I have to double check my flight times, but I know it’s somewhere around there. Why? What’s up?”

“I know we already made plans for next week, but I was thinking I could pick you up from the airport and we could go out.”

My face grew hot, “I don’t think I’ll be dressed for a date.”

“You always look great,” He assured me.

I laughed, nervous and embarrassed, “Thanks.”

We had originally planned our first date to be the weekend after I got back. Jimin was adamant about giving me an experience, and I had been more than happy to indulge him a little. He was just so cute when he got excited. We were running on a limited timeline right now, though, since he had an upcoming swimming fundraiser with Swim Across America in Allendale. The team was raising money for cancer research, and I was very excited to be there to show my support.

Moving the date up meant we would have less to do next weekend, unless Jimin still wanted to keep our plans in place, but it meant we could focus on the fundraiser instead of trying to juggle a date at the same time. 

“I hate to go, but I’m really tired,” Jimin yawned. Pulling my phone away from my ear I was startled by how late it was. “I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

I apologized for keeping him up so late. “Promise I won’t do it again.”

He hummed, already beginning to fall asleep, “Don’t mind. You’re always welcome to bother me in the middle of the night.”

“Night Jimin,” I whispered, blood pumping.

“Night bug.”

There was one thing I missed about Colorado- how quickly the snow melted. Michigan was seeing more snow as each day went by, but here in the mountains they would not start seeing the worst of it until the spring. For the first time in a month, I was able to forgo my large, puffy jacket in favor of a long sleeve and jeans. Jimin found my excitement over this endearing, sending a slew of heart-eye emojis in response to the mirror photo I sent him.

It was almost the end of the day when I pulled into the high school parking lot. The entire front office erupted in excitement when I walked through the front doors, hugs and well wishes overwhelming me. Sandra, the receptionist, could have talked all day if I let her, and after signing in, I politely told them all I needed to meet up with Coach Jung. I lied about stopping by on my way out and only felt a little bad about it. They were way too much for me.

“They’re going to be so excited to see you,” Hoseok mumbled, a smile stretching across his face as loud teenage boys got closer and closer to the pool house. 

“I’m happy to see them, too,” I replied. “Should we wait until they change to make the grand reveal?”

He shook his head. “Would you rather hug now or when they’re in speedos.”

I shivered, disgusted by the mental image.

“Thanks for putting that in my head, you sick fuck.”

Choking on his spit, Hoseok bent over, laughing so hard he started to screech. His laughter reminded me of a ghost's wail and was contagious. We were both so wrapped up in our little bubble we did not notice the doors opening.

“Coach?”

Wiping my cheeks, I caught my breath and made eye contact with Jordan. Baby blue eyes widened while a large, dimple smile overtook his face. Behind him, Gabriel announced that I was here, and the room was filled with excitement. I was not much of a hugger, but I was happy to greet each boy with one. Gabriel hadn’t stopped speaking since catching sight of me and had a few accidental slip ups about how much he disliked Coach Jung.

Hoseok had alluded to that being their main issue right now. The boys were having a hard time adjusting to a new face and missed me dearly. To his credit, Hoseok admitted that he was still getting used to the coaching thing and made a couple mistakes his first few days here. He had made it a point to apologize to them for being a dick, but the teens hadn’t forgotten or forgiven him for his snappy attitude. Especially the two oldest.

“When are you coming back?” Marcus asked. 

I smiled sadly, “I’ll be out for the rest of the year.” The tall boy deflated, sending a nasty look Hoseok’s way. “But,” I was quick to fix my mistake, “I’m planning on making trips to assist Coach Jung throughout the year. I wanted to be here for your last meet, but something came up.”

That something had been Jimin’s birthday, and I was not going to risk missing his party.

Regardless, Marcus and the team were very happy to hear they would be seeing me. 

“I promise I’ll be here for graduation, too,” I added.

Gabriel offered to give me one of his tickets and I gratefully accepted the extended offer. We stood there and talked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally told them to get changed and into the water. Without protest, all twelve of them went to the locker room.

“You know,” Hoseok chuckled. “You're going to have to teach me how you manage to do that.”

“Cinnamon buns from Mountain Shadows,” I put on my whistle and grabbed my clipboard from my duffel bag. “They’ll be eating out of your hand in no time.”

The team was glowing. Jordan stood in the middle of the boys, a large smile on his face, as he praised them for giving the meet their best effort. Having another win under their belt, all of them were buzzing with excitement at a chance at nationals. They only needed to win three more competitions to qualify. 

For the first time since I arrived, the icy contempt they held for Hoseok seemed to thaw. It brought a smile to my face. If I did not come back next year, I had a feeling the boys would be getting along much better. 

“What’s for dinner?” Marcus asked, looking at me for an answer.

“Coach said something about burgers,” I replied, gesturing towards Hoseok. “You should ask him though. I could be wrong.”

Gabriel chimed in, “Yeah, we’re going to Bingo.”

My mouth watered. Bingo Burger was one of the best spots in town. Their fries were hot and crispy, and I loved their shakes. Mulling over my options for dinner, I always found myself stuck between the Gone Shroomin’ Burger and the Happy Hippie. For a vegan burger, that thing was really fucking good. Then again, a thick, juicy beef patty smothered in bacon, cheese, and mushrooms would hit the spot. Indecisive and bored, I fiddled around with my phone and somehow ended up texting Jimin.

Me: Gone Shroomin’ or Happy Hippie?

The noise on the bus was just in the background now and easy to tune out. Hoseok was laughing loudly with the freshmen while the two seniors were in a quiet conversation in the seat in front of me. Marcus and his girlfriend broke up recently. I stopped paying attention once my phone vibrated.

Jimin: No idea what that means

Jimin: Gone Shroomin I guess

I bit my lip, suppressing a smile.

Me: We’re going for celebration burgers

Me: The boys won and Hobi is treating them since we’re out in Pueblo and not getting back to the Springs until after dinner.

Jimin: Speaking of food… I was thinking we could get some BBQ on Sunday

“Y/N!” Hoseok called, making me look up from my phone. “Tell your boyfriend you’ll call him later.”

“We need you to be the tiebreaker,” Twig chirped.

“What for?” I sighed, glancing down at my screen.

Jimin: Have you been to Union Rec yet? It’s BBQ and a taqueria

Me: No but I’m always down for a burrito

“Do mermaids have gills?” Twig asked.

Fully pulled out of my phone, I flipped it around and gave the boys my undivided attention. 

“Of course not. They’re mammals, so it would be a blowhole.”

Hoseok clapped his hands, “Thank you! That’s exactly what I said.”

Sliding further down in the booth, I closed my eyes and drowned them out again. Colorado’s air was so dry and crisp I was having to get used to the altitude change. I missed how wet and cold Michigan was. Smiling to myself, I remembered how much I hated it when I first landed. So much has changed…

Shuffling, I made myself more comfortable. We were only thirty minutes out from the Springs now, and we would be at Bingos right on time for Hoseok’s reservations. Feeling myself growing tired, I sunk even further into the booth. Eyes heavy, I let them slip closed, and slept for the rest of the bus ride.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I smoothed down my skirt for the millionth time. The gray sweater I had thrown on seemed too casual now that I was looking at myself, but I did not know what else to do. It was a laundry day, but when I went to put my clothes in the dryer it refused to turn on. Violet said they needed a new one anyway, but that did little to improve my mood. The pretty red dress I wanted to wear was soaking wet and hanging from the shower rod to dry. I played with the skin on my lip, willing the black and gray outfit to somehow look nicer. On the other side of the phone, Andy sighed.

“You look fine,” She insisted, running her hand through her auburn hair. “Do a cute hairstyle and put on a nice pair of earrings, and you’ll be golden.”

“You don’t think it’s too plain?” I had asked her this five times now, and each time I got that same reply. “I mean, do I look like I’m going to a funeral?”

“The guy has seen you in sweats and no makeup and still wanted to take you out. Do you honestly think he cares about the color of your outfit?”

She had a point. Finally deciding to cave in and give up on my obsession, I took her advice to do something with my hair. A few of the strands were beginning to look silver, and my sideburns were looking paler every day, but after Hoseok told me he was starting to see a few grays, I decided to leave them be. If we were both going to be silver foxes, I liked the idea of doing it together.

“Are you wearing heels?”

“No,” I shook my head. I picked my phone up and went to my bedroom to find a pair of earrings. “It’s too icy. Silver or gold?”

She thought about it for a second, her face scrunched up cutely. 

“Silver.”

I landed on some thick, gun-metal hoops. They matched the color of the sweater perfectly and did not take away from my face too much. I had spent too much time on looking this nice to have an accessory dominate. Andy was happy with my choice.

I had gotten back a little earlier than I originally thought I would, and asked Jimin if it was okay that I meant him at the restaurant out here instead of making him drive all the way to Detroit to pick me up. He had put up a bit of a fight about it but relented when I said I was hoping we could hang out at his house after dinner. I said I wanted to get myself home, but I was really trying to see how bad the drive was from his place to mine. The thought of spending more time in his space made me feel like a teenage girl.

“How’s ballet going?” I slipped on a pair of black tights. It was freezing outside, and I wanted to have as many layers on as possible. “Has Dani made any progress in getting her figure skating career started?”

Andrea laughed but said that her daughter was getting closer to her goal every day. Jin was weak and did anything the little girl wanted if he could. This was the only issue they were both bull-headed about. Jin wanted to teach her to be responsible and follow through on things, and Dani was tired of preparing for figure skating. She wanted to be on the ice and her dad was afraid of pushing her too far too young. I was most definitely a team Dani instigator, and it was a point of contention between Seokjin and I.

“What did you think of Max?”

I smiled. That boy was definitely a character. The gang and I had a nice dinner before I left Colorado, and Tilly brought along Mr. Tattoo guy. He was quiet and when he did talk, he always had something completely random and out of the blue to say. He fascinated me and when everyone started huddling in their own groups to chat, I turned most of my attention to the new guy. 

He was a sweetheart, and it was a nice change of pace getting to know him. He hated being called Peter (his first name), went to college for nuclear engineering, and became a tattoo artist on a whim. A buddy of his wanted a new piece, paid Max to draw it, and trusted the guy with a tattoo gun. He was an apprentice in San Francisco for three years before moving to Denver to open up his own shop. For all of his eccentricity, he was very successful and down to Earth.

“He’s good for her,” I finally replied, zipping up my Doc Martens, I checked the time. I would have to leave soon. “I’m just happy there’s no drama between her and Hobi.”

It had been a year since they officially broke up, but I knew they fell into bed with one another a handful of times since then. Hoseok and I had talked about their weird relationship on one too many drunken nights, the swimmer the only person able I liked enough to force a glass of whiskey down. Tilly knew that I knew and would vent to me sometimes. They loved each other, knew one another better than anybody else, and it was easy to fall back into each other since we were in the same circle.

 I doubted Andy knew anything about that, we tried our best to keep her out of the loop, but she always said that they still had lingering feelings. I hoped Hoseok was handling this news well. He seemed fine, happy even, so I just rolled with it. If he had a problem, I was sure I would have heard about it by now.

“Speaking of Hoseok,” The humorous tone in Andy’s voice caught my full attention. “Apparently, Jin saw him at The Rabbit Hole with some blonde girl before you got into town. He just remembered to tell me last night.”

This was news to me. Wracking my brain, I tried to figure out if he had brought up a date, or even a person he might be interested in, but nothing came up. Shrugging, I let it go. It was probably just some girl he picked up at the bar. Still, that would be an expensive date.

“He hasn’t told me anything about that,” I murmured.

“Might be why he’s not bothered by new boyfriend.”

I laughed, “Or it could be that they’ve moved on.”

“Oh, please,” She pulled a face, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “We all know that’s not true. At least, not until recently.”

“Regardless,” I sighed, grabbing my purse and walking out of the front door. “It’s none of our business. If they’re happy that’s all that matters.”

Andy raspberried, “Boo. I hate it when you’re all mature and adult-like.”

“And right,” I joked. “Don’t forget about that part.”

Locking up my little house, I made my way through the Anderson’s. Violet was watching the Golden Girls on the couch while Calvin was reading a book beside her. It was a sweet scene that made me smile. I wanted what they had. 

I gave them a smile and wave as I passed by. Violet returned it in full, her eyes kind and gentle, before going back to her show. Calvin put his book down and asked what time I was planning on coming back. He wanted to keep an eye out for my car.

“Around midnight,” I replied, moving my phone away from my mouth. Andrea was rambling about the new doctor on staff. I trusted her disdain enough to know he was a huge dick. “See you two tomorrow.”

“Be safe out there,” He replied, going back to his copy of The Catcher and the Rye.

Andy and I were on the phone for the entire car ride into Ann Arbor. I enjoyed hearing her voice, the small distraction welcome when I felt my anxiety spike. Thankfully it was a Sunday night, and the streets were somewhat empty.

Once I got into the downtown area, I drowned out her voice completely. Andrea never minded. She just kept talking like I hadn’t stepped out of whatever conversation we were just having. Never got mad when I kept asking her to repeat herself either. She was a wonderful friend to me, and I was grateful to have her in my life. If I moved to Saline, she would be the person I missed the most.

I still hadn’t talked to anyone else about the possibility of moving. I was not sure how they would react, and I needed to have my mind made up before giving any of them the news. While I knew Andy and Jin would be supportive, and Tilly and Minho wouldn’t really care all that much (it just gave them an excuse to vacation in Michigan), it was Hoseok I was most on the fence about.

With him it could go either way. He would either be really happy and supportive or call me crazy. It came from a place of love, and I respected his opinion more than any of the others, so I had to be completely sure of myself before getting into something like that with him. If he thought for a second I was rushing into things he would go into overprotective, big brother mode and kill all of my excitement. He might even be able to change my mind if he fought hard enough. 

Pulling up to the restaurant, I was impressed by the sheer size of it. One half looked like an old warehouse while the other half was a small, white bricked building. A red neon sign glowed in the night and a large party was hanging out outside of the building. I could see Jimin in their little group and smiled. He was a very popular man in this area and was able to make new friends wherever he went. If I had to guess, he knew someone and is now best friends with all of them.

“Hey, I just got to the restaurant. I’m going to let you go.”

“Okay, baby,” Andy replied. “Have fun. Talk to you later.”

“Text you when I get home,” I replied. 

Andy was as hypervigilant about getting texts as I was. She was on staff at the hospital when Namjoon and I first arrived. I can’t remember anything from that night after getting in Joon’s car, but when Jin and I spoke about it he said Andy was one of the nurses having to help triage me. She had to be physically pulled away from my body once the doctors found out about our connection, but the image of my body that night is burned into her mind. She was the person who took care of me the most upon release and quit her job at the hospital for a little while in order to make sure I was well taken care of. Calls and texts were just our thing now and I always felt horrible for being part of such a traumatic event for her.

“Love you,” She said.

“Love you too,” I replied, hanging up.

Getting out of my car, I locked the doors and made my way over to Jimin. He caught sight of me before I reached the small group and broke out into a huge, heart stopping smile. Unable to stop myself, I smiled back and waved awkwardly. He said something to the group before meeting me halfway. 

“Hey, you,” He said, wrapping his arms around me. “You look really pretty.”

I laughed nervously, squeezing his waist. “Thanks. I tried my best.”

Pulling away, I was able to admire him a bit better. He was wearing light jeans tonight, a rarity as he preferred sweatpants and slacks, and a black t-shirt. A leather jacket was a staple in his wardrobe, and he always said they kept him warm enough. I never believed him. As always, everything was a tight fit and showed off his body perfectly. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said once my appraisal was finished. “Nice boots. Where’d you get them?”

He looked down at the black, Chelsea boots and shrugged, “Nordstrom, I think. Taehyung got them for me a few Christmases ago.”

Of course he did.

“Let’s go inside. I’m cold.”

Jimin laughed, “My apologies, ma’am.”

The restaurant was packed, but Jimin had arrived thirty minutes early to get us on their waitlist, so I only had to wait five minutes for our table to be ready. Jimin brushed off the gesture as first date etiquette, but I knew better. The kid was late to everything and yet he got here early so I wouldn’t have to stand outside in the cold. It almost made me reach out and hold his hand, but my nerves got the best of me. We were at our table before I could gather up some courage, leaving a disappointed, bitter taste in my mouth.

“I’m feeling Disco Fries as an app. You?”

Searching the menu for them, I nodded. “That sounds really good.”

We were quiet for a few minutes as we decided on what we wanted. The menu here was rather large, filled with Mexican foods and copious BBQ items. Having never been here before I had no clue what was good and what hasn’t, but from how many people were here I had to assume nothing was bad.

“Know what you want?” Jimin asked, breaking the silence.

I shook my head, “No idea. What about you?”

“I get the same thing every time I come,” He laughed. “The Korean BBQ Burger is really fucking good. I also like the enchiladas.”

Finding both items, my mouth watered. Everything sounded amazing, but I wanted to get a little out of my comfort zone. I just had burgers yesterday, so I was not feeling that. Maybe BBQ? Looking at the options, I shook my head. I could not eat a half pound of anything. Biting the dry skin on my lips, my brain felt like it was working on overdrive. Too many options.

“Welcome to Union Rec,” I jumped a little, startled. “I’m Annie and I’ll be your server tonight.”

My eyes locked with a pair of baby blues, and I immediately recognized her. She was the brunette from the bar a couple of months ago. Eyes sliding from me, she landed on Jimin and the bored expression on her face morphed into one of pure bliss. I did not understand why she had given me that nasty look back then, but it was much clearer to me now. She had a thing for Jimin. Remembering she had a boyfriend, one she screamed at over the phone, it made me feel nauseous. Poor Tom.

“Oh my gosh, Christian. What are you doing here?” She asked, sneaking a look at me.

“Got a hot date,” He replied cheekily, gesturing his hand my way. “You remember Y/N, right?”

She gave me one of those tight-lipped, fake smiles. I returned the favor. I was not really jealous per say, Jimin’s declaration making any possibility of that disappear, but I did not appreciate anyone trying to make me feel small. I was a gold medalist. I was a fucking Olympian. Whoever the hell this chick thought she was, I would make sure she never thought for a second she got under my skin. 

“Yeah, we met at Brecon’s,” Annie replied, completely ignoring me. “Thought she was your coach.”

Jimin either did not catch the insult or he was choosing to ignore it. His smile was still just as pleasant as it was when we first sat down. I envied his ability to keep his emotions so controlled. I knew I must have been glaring at the poor girl.

“She is,” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean she’s not my girlfriend. Are you taking our order or…?”

Annie spluttered for a second before regaining her composure. All affection in her eyes was gone and replaced by irritation. It was definitely directed at me, but Jimin’s dismissal must have stung. I was happy to be rid of her. Putting in our order for Disco fries, Jimin got a Sprite and Annie left before I could ask for a drink. Sipping on my complimentary water, I forced myself to breathe in and out. She was just a petty, annoyed girl with a crush. That was all. So, what if she was being rude? I was fine. Everything was fine. After the fifth sip, I actually believed it.

Trying to keep my tongue in check, I went back to looking through the menu. Finally able to make a choice, I decided on the birria beef ramen and closed the menu. Hopefully little miss Annie wouldn’t spit in it. Hot again, I took another long sip of water.

“Excuse me.”

Jimin flagged down another waiter, a pleasant smile on his face. Confused, I put down the glass and raised an eyebrow. He winked at me before laying the charm on thick. 

“Hey Marty. Would you mind if we got a different server?”

The young girl nodded frantically, “Of course. Is everything okay?”

Jimin smiled, eyes like crescents. “Everything is fine. Just Annie on her bullshit. Don’t want to get her fired by talking to your dad.”

Marty rolled her eyes, “Figures. I’ll tell her I’m taking care of you guys. Just don’t expect me to be running around for you, man. I have an entire section by myself.”

“I want privacy anyway,” Jimin replied, smirking at me. “Thanks. I’ll tip you well.”

She laughed, “Just make sure you put it in my hand. That bitch has been stealing tips. Cosette is trying to convince pops to fire her, but you know how he is about the girl.”

Jimin shook his head, “I already know. Can you get my girl a drink? Annie ran off without taking her order.”

Marty looked at me, her deadpan stare making me burst into laughter. Apparently, it wasn’t just me. That helped. 

“Sorry about her. She’s a massive bitch. What can I get you?”

I smiled, my mood a million times better, “Iced tea, please.”

“You got it, babe. You ready to order?”

Marty took our orders and promised to be back with my drink soon. 

“How do you two know each other?” I asked Jimin, finishing off my water.

“We were in the same class back in high school. Her mom owns that flower shop on Michigan Avenue.”

That was surprising. I was positive the girl was no older than eighteen. She reminded me of a porcelain doll, her chubby cheek and big eyes adding something angelic to her overall look. Then again, Jimin did not look all that old either. It was easy to forget he just turned 24. The age gap was really messing with my brain.

Annie was back with Jimin’s drink a few minutes later. She said nothing when she practically slammed his cup on the table before stalking off. It was then that I knew who she reminded me of. Darcy. I wondered if they were friends. Definitely had the same attitude problem, that was for sure.

“Ignore her,” Jimin told me once she was out of earshot. “I’ve been doing it since middle school.”

The rest of our dinner went back without a hitch. With Annie out of the way, and Marty’s small and infrequent check-in’s, we were able to be in a bubble of sorts. He asked about my trip back home and filled me in on what happened over the weekend. He had finally told his parents about our date and said that his mom thought it was a great idea. James called me perfect a few times, too. I had a hard time believing it, but Jimin had never lied to me before. It was nice to know the people around him accepted me even if I was a few years older.

“My mom’s 9 years older than my dad,” He revealed in between bites of food.

Shocked, I stopped eating all together. I had no idea they were that different in age. Ne-Yeon looked so youthful and pretty it was hard to guess just how old she actually was. Even fighting cancer, that woman did not look a day over 40. James was also in great shape for his age. To hear they had their own age gap made me feel a little bit better. 

“Wait,” Something else occurred to me. “Your mom was in her forties when she had you?”

Jimin nodded, “45. She had Haru at 48.”

It made sense to me now. To Jimin, our age gap was nothing special. It was smaller than his parents’, and having an older mother did not bother him at all. In his eyes, we had all of the time in the world for marriage and kids. A small weight came off of my shoulders. It really did not mean anything to him. He was not just saying that to make me feel better either. 

“Do you want dessert?” He asked, his plate empty in front of him. 

I was almost done with my bowl, “What do they have?”

He squinted his eyes, thinking.

“I know they have this horchata banana pudding. It’s literally the best dessert I’ve ever had in my life. There are a few other things, but I can’t remember what they are.”

I chuckled, “Then we’ll have the banana pudding.”

Jimin was not exaggerating either. The pudding was delicious. I almost wished we had each gotten our own serving, but after seeing the bill we were happy we hadn’t. Jimin paid this time. We had a back-and-forth deal when it came to meals. I got us breakfast last Wednesday, so he was picking up this bill. This was, unfortunately, much higher than Denny’s.

“I’ll put gas in your truck,” I offered on our way out. “To make up for the difference from Denny’s.”

He scoffed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“We’re together now,” He interrupted me. “If I want to pay for a meal, then I will. You don’t have to pay me back.”

“We’ve always done that,” I argued.

“That was before,” He countered, walking me to my car door and opening it. “This is now. And right now, I’m trying to take a pretty girl, in a pretty dress, on a nice date. That includes paying for her meal.”

Getting into my seat, I pointed out that I let him do the gentleman thing all of the time. Opening my door for me, pulling chairs out at restaurants, and even walking on the curbside when we were out together. The list was endless. The least I could do was pay for half of a meal.

“I don’t do those things to get on your good side,” Jimin replied. “I do them because I want to. This isn’t transactional. So, stop worrying about being a burden. I enjoy taking care of you. You deserve to be taken care of.”

I could not think of a good enough comeback, so I just decided to drop it. If he wanted to pay for me then he could. It was his money to spend. 

“Send me your address.”

“You still want to come over?” He seemed surprised.

“Yeah,” I nodded, already pulling up the GPS. “What is it?”

He sounded like Charlie when he won the golden ticket as he gave me his address. 

“Don’t get too excited now,” I joked. “Just because I’m coming over doesn’t mean anything.”

Jimin laughed, “I pretend I don’t even know what sex is until after date three, so don’t worry about it.”

That made me laugh, “Get in your truck. I’ll meet you there.”

Looking back at him, I felt giddy. His eyes were so alight, his joy written so clearly across his face it took my breath away. A happy Jimin was the only kind I wanted to see. Blowing caution to the wind, I finally reached out. Touching his stomach, I felt the muscles clench beneath my fingers.

“Thank you,” I said earnestly.

“What for?” He rasped, placing one hand over mine, pressing my hand further into his skin. 

“For-” I broke off, taking my hand away. The feeling of him underneath me was too much. “For being so accommodating. I really appreciate it.”

He laughed, the sound strained and airy. I was too embarrassed by my actions to look at his face, but I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my eyes. Unlike me, Jimin was always brave. Hopefully some of that confidence would rub off on me. Maybe then I could reach out and hold him whenever I wanted to. 

“You’re welcome,” He replied, and my thighs clenched together at how rough he sounded. Did touching him do that? Or was it the praise? It could be both. “Drive safe, okay? You can follow me if that helps.”

I nodded, swallowing. The icy air outside did nothing to put out the blistering heat coursing between us right now. It was overwhelming how hot it was. Turning up my A/C, I pointed the vent directly at my face.

“See you in a few minutes,” I breathed, still unable to look at him.

Jimin closed my door, and I leaned back in my seat breathing heavily. I watched him as he rounded the front of my car, those pants sticking to his legs like a second skin and groaned. I had never felt this level of desire for anyone before. 

He reminded me so much of Namjoon. His beautiful brain and love for music and poetry so reminiscent it managed to bring me back to happier times. In the beginning I was afraid my attraction to him stemmed from that link. Because he reminded me of something I had loved so dearly that meant what I was beginning to feel was just a projection.

I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong. Jimin had a passion that Joon could never replicate. If Joon was a warm blanket, then Jimin was like the tide in the sea. On the surface it was calm, steady, and beautiful. Underneath that was life like nothing I had ever seen before. He was refreshing and filled with this fire for life that reminded me of my own from years ago.

Namjoon was perfect, a boy-next-door, and soft spoken. Back then I had enough of that passion for the both of us. Now I saw more and more parallels between us than ever before. I was uncertain, waiting for someone else to bring excitement back into my life, too afraid to reach out and take what I wanted anymore.

And then Jimin was there with that big smile willing to take me on whatever adventure I desired. All I had to do was ask. It was exhilarating, fun, and I was happy to be a part of the ride. His softness, his kindness, his understanding- all of it wrapped up in a pretty red bow. A gift that kept on giving.

I did not love Jimin, but I knew then that I could. With his sharp tongue and charisma, it was impossible not to. Everyone else did. Who was I to think I could be any different? I was a slave to his happiness. It was in that moment, sitting in my car, that I finally understood what was happening.

I was falling in love and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (9/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, fluff, flirting, semi-edited, smut, fingering, eating out, unprotected sex.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 8.0

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

A/n: lol, hello, I'm sorry for being so MIA lately. I kinda have had half of this written since November but my mom came to visit me in Korea and I forgot about it haha. If you are still here thank you for sticking around! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!

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10 Years Ago

Things were finally looking up.

“If you just remember everything we have gone over you'll be fine.” He simply says like it's no big deal, waving you off. 

You on the other hand are filled with the gnawing pain of your nerves. As you look down at your notebook filled with an equal mixture of correct and incorrect answers. 

Maybe things weren't really looking up. 

“I think we should do a few more.” You rush out, flipping to a new page. In that exact moment, the buzzer in Namjoon's hand goes off, and he stands up. 

He pushes in his chair and walks to stand beside you, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Over studying is not the answer.” He says gently, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before walking away to pick up your drinks. 

Your protest dying as you burn daggers into his back. You aren't sure if it's a good thing that he has so much faith in you. When you don't have an ounce in yourself. Especially when in two days you'll hopefully end your misery with the dreaded math final. 

It's been two whole months since you've started your weekly tutoring sessions with Namjoon. You aren't completely lost in class anymore. If you are, you just come to the broad man and drown him in all kinds of questions. With this tactic you've even managed to get an eighty-five present in your last math test. 

The only thing left for you to pass is the stupid final.

You have been seeing Namjoon a lot more this week. Scheduling, and practically begging him to squeeze you into his tight schedule since Monday. A request to brush up on equations and gain some clarity on things you might have forgotten. To say the least, your test anxiety has reached a whole new level. You visibly look exhausted, your skin is oilier than usual, sporting a few painful pimples on your chin, and your hair looks so greasy despite just washing it in the morning. You should feel slightly ashamed for even leaving your house looking like a hot mess, but your thoughts are suffocating. Staying in would make the panic in the pit of your stomach worse. 

Especially when you and your tutor have recently discovered your inability to do word problems. The main reason why you keep calling Namjoon at three in the morning. Even though he thinks you're just being paranoid, especially with the silent sigh of defeat you hear through your phone speaker. He tries his best to reassure you that you're going to be fine at the end of the day. 

“There will probably be three, five at most. He had said last night when you called. 

Thankfully he had stayed up revising his final paper, instead of being three dimensions deep in dream land like on Sunday when you called. Still, even though he had muttered out a tiny complaint, he stayed on the line with you. Until you were calm enough to fall asleep again. 

In just three months your acquaintance has blossomed into a full on friendship. Along with your sneaking suspicion that both Taehyung and Jimin like him better. It was obvious last Friday night when Jimin had a small end of the semester get together at his apartment. Namjoon got so drunk he performed the entirety of Grease Lightning on karaoke. Including the dance break with special guest and step brother Jeon Jungkook. 

Later on in the night the older of the four cried about the final scene in the Titanic. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, but heartwarming to be able to see a different side of the Philosophy student. 

“Look who decided to join us.” You jump, placing your pen down in your notebook, closing it to hold your page. You turn around, feeling a wide smile come onto your face when you lock eyes with the other source of your happiness these last few months. 

“Hobi,” you exclaim, holding your arms out to him. He chuckles, and leans down giving you one of those awkward hugs one gives when the other person is sitting down. It only lasts a few seconds and then he is leaning his head back to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek, making you cringe. 

“Ew,” you pout, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. He chuckles, pecking your lips lightly and then taking the seat next to you. 

“Joon says you need a break from being a math wizard.” He chuckles, dragging your notebook to him. He places his arms over it keeping it hostage.

You whine crossing your arms in front of you, pouting like a child. “But what if I don't pass. I don't want to have to take the class a third time.” 

Namjoon shakes his head, sets your chamomile tea in front of you, and sits down. “I already told you, you won't. I did the math last night. Even if you get a sixty five percent, you'll still be able to pass the class with a B.” He states firmly and takes a sip from his coffee. 

You huff, sinking further into the chair. “I don't want a B, I want an A.” 

Hoseok snakes an arm over your shoulders and brings you close to his side.” “Then you will pass the class with an A honey cakes.” He kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. You take a deep breath, nodding and snuggling closer to him.

“So are you two dating now?” Namjoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of him.

Hoseok waves an arm, brushing off the question that has been surrounding the two of you these past three weeks. “You know it's not like that.” He answers before you can. He pulls his arm away and sets them both on top of your notebook. He sends you a knowing wink. 

“Yeah you out of all people should know it's not like that.” You back up Hoseok, sticking your tongue out at the other. “How's Rina by the way?” You challenge making the man next to you burst out in a fit of giggles. 

You see, most of the things Jungkook told you about Namjoon prior to your first meeting have all been lies. Or just not the whole truth.

Namjoon was a broody person. He did put his studies as one of his priorities in life. And he didn't want a relationship. 

Yet in the last few months you have gotten to know the career driven man. You've also managed to peel back some of his layers. 

He did have his moments of indignation, but he could also be very playful and funny. This side mostly comes out when Hoseok is around or when he wants you to get your mind off the things that have been stressing you out. He does have a strong work ethic, but he also knows when to take a break. 

There have even moments in your tutoring slash now study sessions when he forces you to take walks. He says it helps clear your head, but you also know it's his way to get his ideas to flow again whenever he feels stuck. 

During these walks you've managed to find out more things about him. He loves museums because he's shit at art, and knowing that there are people out there who aren't makes him appreciate the art a lot more. At least once every two months he visits the tree he and his father planted his mother’s ashes at to update her on his life. He cares so much for Jungkook and his mother even if he doesn't show it all the time. And despite not wanting a relationship he has been head over heels for the girl he's been casually hooking up with for the last two years. 

Though he won't come out and say it himself. You have witnessed the way his face settles down into something calmer. And his eyes light up whenever his phone rings and her name pops up on the screen.

He once spent thirty minutes talking about a joke she had told him one night. Spoiler alert, it wasn't a good one, but it was adorable watching him try to get it out in-between chuckles. 

You also know he shares the same negative sentiment Jungkook has about your current relationship with his best friend. But just like he claims that his relationship with Rina is complicated. So, is yours with the ray of sunshine you get to now call friend.

“She's fine.” He shrugs, clearing his throat and looking out the window. You share a look with Hoseok before letting out a fit of shared giggles. 

If someone had once told you that your strict math tutor slash friend would turn into a shy mess with just the simple mention of a name. You would've thought they were fucking with you. Even if it still surprises you a little bit. 

“You should just ask her to be your girlfriend.” Hoseok chimes in. 

Namjoon throws his head back groaning. “It wouldn't work out if I do, plus that would require for me to act like a boyfriend and I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.” He speaks with his eyes trained on the high ceiling of the cafe. 

You lean forward placing your elbows on top of the table and wrapping your arms around the hot mug. “You already do Namjoon. A switch of labels is not going to change anything. And don't you think she deserves some kind of confirmation and respect when it comes to your relationship?” You finish tilting your head to the side. 

“I do respect her though, which is why I don't want to ask her, like you just said a label won't change anything.” 

You let out a sigh, “I didn't say that you didn't respect her. I just think that from a girl's perspective she might be feeling a little bit confused with your words and actions. You say the two of you aren't anything serious but then you act like you can't live without her. If I was in her shoes I would feel very frustrated. So, maybe you don't have to make this big grand gesture or ask her to officially be your girlfriend but just clarify things between the two of you. If you aren't serious about her then so be it but if you are then tell her that.” You finish and take your first sip from your tea. 

“I agree with honey cakes, just be a little more straight forward that's all.” Hoseok shrugs before standing up. 

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and looks between the two of you. “And what about you?” He counteracts childishly. You knew it was coming. In his eyes the two of you giving him advice when you're in a similar situation is a bit hypocritical. Plus you and Hoseok are on the same page so it's di–

“That's different.” Hoseok speaks before you. “And this is about your love life not ours.” He states stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“Whatever.” Namjoon brushes off. You sigh, aware that if you choose to continue the conversation it will end in the three of you having a petty argument. You look at Hoseok as he leans down, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek, making the man witnessing the affectionate gesture scoff in annoyance. 

If he wants to say something he doesn't voice it instead he opens his leather bound notebook to a new page. 

Hoseok ignores him and stands up straight. “Are we still on tonight?” 

You nod. “I can't stay for long though I want to catch up on sleep.” 

“Fine then just one movie it is.” He winks before turning on his heels. Leaving you behind with the grumpy man. He looks up from his journal, opening his mouth, but you raise a hand to stop him. “It's different Namjoon.” 

Namjon clicks his tongue in annoyance and shrugs. “Whatever, let's just do one more world problem before calling it a day.” 

“Fine,” you huff, sliding your notebook in front of you and opening it to a clean page. 

Just one more day and you'll be free from this torture. 

Hoseok's apartment is everything you expect from the maximest man. Just upon walking in you are hit with waves of bright colors. By the doorway there are different KAWS figurines that you can only imagine cost a fortune. Yet they greet you with their x'd out eyes as you remove your shoes. 

Then you have to pass by the Supreme beaded curtain to finally enter the living room. A bright red leather couch is settled in the middle. With wine colored pillows and a black throw blanket that you've adopted since the first night you spent in Hoseok's arms.

Abstract art lines the walls behind the television. There are more figurines lining the shelves in between books, records, and framed pictures of his friends and families. Along with a few miscellaneous items that he's told you he's obtained over the years.

His TV is huge. Takes up almost the whole wall, but your favorite to watch movies since he installed a surround system upon moving in years ago. 

You still remember the first night he invited you over. It was after spending two whole weeks texting non stop. He simply asked if you wanted to watch a movie with him and you thought why not. 

One night led to another and now another. It always starts the same. The two of you spend days teasing one another through text. Lewd texts along with pictures. You come over for a movie and then you end up underneath him. 

When it's over, he lets you use his shower while he orders takeout from the vegan restaurant a block down the road. And the two of you resume watching the movie as if neither of you were panting each other's names in pleasure. 

A simple arrangement with absolutely no strings attached.

It was what you were expecting when you came over tonight. Not that you don't mind the nights in which you do come over and nothing happens other than the deep hearted talks over a slow record playing in the background. But that wasn't happening either, because ever since you arrived at his doorstep, the overzealous man has been quiet. Biting the inside of his cheek and moving around you far enough to raise suspicion. 

It has your mind traveling back to the conversation that occurred in the afternoon. Was Hoseok having second thoughts? Or was there more to his actions than what you were picking up? 

“Hobi,” you whisper the minute he enters his living room with a bowl of popcorn stepping over your legs that were resting on his coffee table. He silently settles down next to you, on the other side of the couch with a gap wide enough to fit a person in between. 

Now you're more than positive that something is wrong. 

You groan, “I think I'll just go home then.” You mumble, pushing the throw blanket of your shoulders. 

This is enough to catch his attention. His eyes are wide behind his dark rimmed glasses and he sits up. “What why?” He tilts his head in confusion. 

A dry chuckle escapes your lips. “You obviously don't want me around, so I'll just go. I need to go to sleep early anyway.” You shrug, slipping your feet in his fuzzy slippers and swiftly start making your way to grab your stuff in his room. 

“No I–wait.” Finally, he speaks up, earning an eye roll from you that he can't see as your back is still turned. 

With haltered steps you spin on your heel to face him again, “What? You've been acting strange since I got here. So, if you don't want me around I will just go home.” 

At lightning speed he sets the bowl of popcorn on his coffee table, and stands up. He makes hasty steps towards you and when he is finally standing in front of you, he sets both of his hands on top of your shoulders. 

“Don't leave…I'm sorry.” Hoseok's eyes cast down past your face. They settle upon the graphic on your old washed out t-shirt. He takes a deep breath and looks up again. His face twists into something you can't decipher. It's a look you've never seen him wear, and it settles hard into your chest. 

He looks troubled, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His eyes dart to five different focal points. You know he's arguing with himself. When he finally looks at you in your eyes again. You can't help but shrink a little bit. 

His features have hardened, and you want to reach out to smooth over the little worry lines in the middle of his forehead. Guilt washes over you. 

For what? 

You don't know but you hope more than anything that you'll soon find out. 

“Can we talk?” He speaks up, letting his arms fall down, his knuckles brushing against your skin. 

For a second you think he's going to pull away. Retrieve into his body, but when he grabs your hands and laces his fingers with yours. The guilt in the pit of your stomach dissipates and you're left with confusion. 

When you don't answer his question, he repeats himself. This time differently, “I just think we need to talk, I've been thinking since this afternoon. I want to check up on you, and I guess us.” He clarifies, and now you're filled with a different kind of emotion. As much as you're relieved that you didn't do anything wrong per se. You are slightly annoyed that he couldn't just tell you that when you first arrived. Instead of ignoring you until you reached your breaking point. 

Frustrated, you say slowly, “Then just say that, instead of ignoring me.” 

Hoseok closes his eyes and sighs, nodding his head before speaking, “you're right I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind and I am not sure how to bring any of what I'm thinking about up.” 

“Hobi, just say it. We agreed on clear communication when we realized that this was going to be more than just a one night stand.” You sigh, beginning to walk in the direction of his couch, stringing him along. “Whatever is on your mind, just say it.” You push him onto his couch and take the seat next to him, your body fully facing his, and you fold your legs beneath you. 

He nods, running a hand down his face. “I don't think this is working anymore.” He whispers, eyes trained on his ceiling. 

Okay you were definitely not expecting that, but instead of voicing your surprise, you squeeze his hand. Encouraging him to continue. 

He does, “I think I'm slowly falling for you, well I don't know I'm confused about my feelings.” He whispers the end and falls quiet. 

As much as you want to run away and hide at his confession. He looks troubled and you wouldn't be a good friend if you just left him to wallow in his thoughts. No matter the pressure that has settled in your chest. Or the fact that your heart thinks you're running a marathon, making your ears feel like they're about to fall off too. 

With every passing moment you're finding that it's getting harder to breathe. You aren't dumb, the atmosphere has also changed, but it isn't because of his confession. It's because you are also a bit confused about your feelings.

You clear your throat, “W-What are you confused about?” 

He stops his staring game with the ceiling, shifting his whole body to finally face you. “Do you know why both Kook and Joon are so against us?” 

The question throws you off guard but you suppose it has to do with what he's going through. You do have an idea as to why your friends are raising a brow at your relationship. Jungkook’s warning the first day you met the barista is enough for you to get a rough idea of what they mean. But you want to hear it from him. 

Still you don't know if you can trust your voice so you shake your head. 

He continues, “I've never been in a relationship because I don't trust people to love me the way I know I can love them. So, I just sleep around, and when I get bored I break it off.” 

 “I know. They warned me about you when you immediately showed interest. And trust me I knew what I signed up for when we agreed to keep seeing each other. I don't expect anything more than what we are doing.” You tilt your head to the side.

“I know that's why I'm confused. At first that's all I expected and wanted. But then I don't know I feel so full and empty when I'm with you. I don't want you to leave when the night is over. You're the last thing I think about and the first thing I want to see. I've never felt this sure and comfortable with anyone ever, and I don't know what to do because we both know this isn't forever, your forever is with someone else, and so is mine. But for now I just want to be with you and know what it's like to fall in love and with you.” He takes a deep breath. “Even if it's just for a little bit. You know that next year I'll be leaving for that design school, and I'm sorry but nothing and no one is going to stop me. I've waited too long for this opportunity. I know I'm being selfish to ask you this, but can you please find it in your heart to let me be yours until then?” 

Hoseok finishes. And you're left to your own devices. To deal with your emotions as they spill out of you in hot tears. You've never had someone confess to you so passionately before. Actually nobody has ever bothered. And even though it's semi depressing you can't help but feel on cloud nine with all his words wrapping around you in the warmth that he radiates. 

Without thinking you kneel, and wrap your arms around his neck. “Okay let's do it.” You beam and he matches your smile. He leans in to kiss you but you place your hand over his mouth to stop him. 

Confusion plagues him like a bitter sting. You laugh, “But only if you agree that when everything is over there's no drama between us, and if I ever get married you have to design my wedding dress.” You remove your hand, and cradle his cheek, rub your thumb over his eyebrow. 

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “You will get married.” 

“Nah, but it's okay. I've accepted my faith.” You shrug, resting your forehead against his. His hands come up your cheek, squishing them slightly.

“You will honey cakes, that's why I'm already planning your dress design in my head.” He wipes your forgotten tears, and tilts your head to the side. 

You feel your breathing get faster, as his heart shaped lips rest centimeters apart. “How are you so sure?” You whisper, swallowing thickly at the end. 

He smirks, with a glint in his eye. Like he knows something you don't, “because I know someone who is also falling for you but they’re to dumb to notice “ 

“Who?” 

“Secret,” he says before finally crashing his lips onto yours.

Hoseok’s room is equally as loud as his living room. It’s a little more diluted with simple decorations and a huge abstract painting on the wall in front of his bed. His bed takes up most of his space, adoring a black duvet with black sheets. He has three pillows and two of those you’ve taken ownership of. His brown dresser holds little trinkets of things he buys or finds in the pockets of his pants. It’s also home to a series of designer colognes. Your favorite one was definitely Terre d'Hermes. Somehow the smell always fills with comfort. 

Your favorite part of his room–other than his bed–was his desk. They say you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their work space. 

He’s a messy artist. His sketches are always thrown around, or pinned on the corkboard hanging over his desk. He has two bookshelves filled with sketchbooks and magazines. Sometimes if you’re lucky he will leave his sketchbooks open, awarding you with a small glance of his work. He has different notebooks for different magazine cutouts. Each one labeled something like, ‘street’ or ‘formal’ or ‘one-day.’ The latter always peaks your interest but you’ve never thought to ask. He has a thousand different sketching materials, and so many colorful markers. You just know that he was that kid in class with the sixty-four crayola back. 

He's passionate about his craft. A passion that shines through everything that he does. Especially when he’s sharing that passion with you. Now, as he lays you down onto his soft mattress. He kisses his way down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach and the few stretch marks that appeared one day in your early adolescent years. 

For years it was hard to be intimate with someone in fear that they would disgust your partner. But the one thing you learned while growing up was that most men didn’t give a shit unless they were getting it. 

Yet Hoseok, your boyfriend, now. 

He cares. 

In a good way. The first time he saw you naked he almost came in his jeans. Your curves were all in the right places. You have enough skin to grip onto, and he loves all the marks and imperfections your body has. 

He couldn’t understand why you were so beautiful in the soft glow of his bedroom lights? Why he didn’t have the words to describe how his heart was literally beating against his ribcage?  Why for the first time in his casual dating experience he feared he wouldn't be able to give you the pleasure you deserved? 

So, that first night together, he took his time. Trying to get his thoughts under control. He painted your body with featherlight kisses. Determined to leave his trace imprinted in your body for however long you two would engage with each other. 

Everytime you came over. He did just that. He took his time, choreographing a dance with your body. It was a no-brainer that he had fallen for you. Something he knew shouldn’t have happened. He had plans for himself. He had a future mapped out since he was teenage. Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his goals. That you would support him through everything. He should’ve stopped his feelings for you from growing. 

He kept them quiet until his portfolio got accepted. Until he saw the brief glances Namjoon gave you when he thought you weren’t looking. Perhaps it was the jealousy that made him confess. Or that his time with you was now limited. Whatever the reason was that led him to his confession, he only hoped that you felt the same. 

You giggle, the beautiful melodic sound grounds him as he wraps a calloused hand around your right breast, circling his thumb around the pebble. 

You're his girlfriend now. 

He, your boyfriend and he will bring down the moon for you tonight if you asked him too. 

“What’s so funny?” His curious stare meets your amused one. 

You had failed to keep your giggles at bay while he made out with you on his couch. He let a few of his own out when he had had enough of kissing and grinding in his living room, and guided you into his room. 

He loved the sound, and he loved that it was only because after months of dancing this tango you were still shy underneath him. 

“Nothing, it’s just that Mickey is staring at us.” You whisper gasping when he grinds his lower half against yours. Hoseok playfully rolls his eyes, reaching and turning around the newly added picture of his family dog on his bedside table. No more prying dog or human eyes around to interrupt the two of you. 

His attention returns to you. Gaze burning with lust as he leans down, pecking your lips lightly. “Can you stay over?” He says, kneading your breast again. The teasing touches were driving you insane. But this is how you preferred it. Slow and intense, tangling your body with his, until the two of you became one. 

“I’ll make an exception if you promise to drive me to my class tomorrow with a free coffee.” You smile, pushing your chest into his hand. 

He shook his head, reaching down to your lips. “Hustler.” He mumbles, capturing your mouth in a slow sensual kiss. “You got yourself a deal baby girl.” 

Your body shudders at the nickname. He only used it when it was just the two of you. He knew the effect it had on you. “Can I take your shirt off now?” He smirks. 

You let out a pleasurable sigh, nodding your head, before verbalizing a soft, “yes.” 

He pulls away, sitting back on his heels, peeling his shirt off before helping you with yours. He discards the two of them somewhere behind him. He pulls you towards him again, resting his forehead against yours. A bright smile adorning his perfect face. 

It makes your stomach crumble, knowing that from this moment on.

Hoseok would always be the one who got away. 

Your big “what if.” 

Your biggest treasure. Your safe place. Your blueprint for a future with someone else. The love story that was made to end. But one that burned so bright that would have you telling your future daughter to never be afraid of love. 

“Can we go slow today?” You run your hands down his torso, playing with the belt buckle of his expensive belt. 

“I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to go, baby girl.” He reassures,  his fingers play with the bra strap that had fallen down your shoulder. 

You tilt your head, looking at him with soft eyes. And he swears he feels himself melt. 

The next few minutes were a mess of soft kisses and clothes being discarded. Each article of clothing, landing with a soft ‘thud’ against his bedroom floor. You’re on cloud nine, his lips kiss down your neck, your collarbone. His hands part your thighs, baring your cunt to him. He sits back, mouth watering at how wet you are. He couldn’t wait for a taste. 

He could never wait. And he never did. 

He kisses your mound before wrapping his lips around your clit. He savors the sigh that escapes your mouth. He smirks when he immediately feels you grip his hair, pushing him further. Just like he couldn’t resist, you also couldn’t.

He sucked, distracting you from his finger circling around your entrance making you gasp in surprise when you feel him insert one. Slowly thrusting it as he licked you like a man who has been starved for weeks. 

“Hobi,” You sigh, pushing his head further. He fingers you faster until he feels you clench around him, and he stops, making you whine. 

“Please,” you plead. He chuckles against you, inserting another finger. This time he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You feel him thrust into you with no hesitation. His mouth sucking on your clit, swirling his tongue around it playing with the nub. 

You were withering, moaning his name, and anything your mind could conjure up in this moment. 

Overwhelmed with blissful pleasure, you grip his bed sheets, bucking your hips into his face. He groans, knowing you were on edge from how tight your grip on his head was now. And he did the one thing he knew would drive you insane. He slowed down, until he came to a complete stop. 

“Hoseok,” you groan, slamming your hand onto his comforter. He chuckles, lifting his head. Your body was flushed, your lips swollen, your hair splayed out around you. He loves bringing you to this moment. 

“You said you wanted slow.” He grins, taking his fingers out of your pussy. Loving the way it clenched over nothing now. Almost as if it was begging to be played with again. 

You roll your eyes, pouting. “Not this slow. I want to come.” You say, sitting up on your elbows. 

“Oh baby you will.” He winks, licking his fingers clean. He leans over, pecking your lips quickly. “You will come as many times as you want. But I want the first one to be around my cock tonight.” 

You gasp at his words. You knew his mouth was lethal but sometimes it still surprises you. The lust lacing with his soft timbre made you weak in the knees. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. 

The word ‘slow’ is forgotten from either of your vocabularies, while the two of you kiss hungrily. Sucking on tongues, teeth clashing, hands touching and clutching onto anything and everything. 

Hoseok lays you down on your side, climbing in behind you. His teeth nips at your bottom lip and he wrapped your leg around his hips. He kisses down your neck, while you help guide his cock to your entrance. He locks his eyes with yours as he slowly pushes himself in. His arms wrap around your torso, and he pushes you closer to his chest. 

Both of your heartbeats are in sync. Racing against the clock, basking in pleasure that you never want it to end. 

“Move please.” You say, lifting your face to kiss him. 

He begins to move his hips, making you gasp into each other's mouths. It’s a sloppy pace from the start but you don't care. You want more, so you met his thrusts halfway. One of his hands palms at your breast. He alternates between swallowing your moans and leaving his mark on anything he can get his lips on. 

“B-Baby.” He moans, resting his forehead on yours. “I’m close, are you?” He thrusts, letting out a low moan when he feels you clench around him.

He didn’t give you a minute to answer, before he was lifting your leg higher around his waist, allowing himself to reach the deepest part of you. “Touch yourself baby.” 

You moan his name, letting go of his hand, your finger meeting your clit, rubbing it in circles. Trying to keep up with his unrelenting pace. And soon you feel him still behind you, eyes shutting in pleasure as he spills himself inside of you. His orgasm triggers the coil in the pit of your stomach as you feel your release wash over you in a tidal wave, making you push his cock and cum out of you. His fingers frantically come down to meet yours as he helps you ride out your wave. He whispers praises against your skin while you come down.

Hoseok kisses your lips slowly, chuckling before whispering words that you will forever hold near and dear to your heart. 

“I love you.” He pushes your hair away from your face. “I love you so much to know that one day I’ll have to let you go.”

You giggle, turning in his arms, nuzzling your head into his neck. “I love you.” 

You feel him laugh, twinkling his fingers down your spine, “Let’s get matching tattoos.” 

You look up at him, raising a brow before shaking your head. “You just made me squirt, told me you loved me, and now you want to get matching tattoos?” 

“What better way to commemorate the best ego boost.” He shrugs. 

“You’re insane.” You untangle yourself from his embrace. You stand up, putting on his shirt. 

“I didn’t hear a no.” He says smugly, putting his arms underneath his head. 

“Because you’re an insane idiot who makes me agree to things like these.” You smile, before walking out of his room. 

“Great, I’ll make an appointment.” He shouts after you, “I love you.” He adds after a moment. 

You enter his kitchen, and turn on the lights. You can feel your smile take up your entire face. For a moment you realize that for the first time in a long time you felt happy. 

So yeah, maybe, things were finally looking up. 

“You’re late.”

Namjoon says after taking a slow sip from his coffee. He looks at you from over the rim of his glasses. 

You roll your eyes, setting your bag down on the empty chair. “It's raining, and I forgot my umbrella. I had to wait for the rain to stop.”

“You could’ve texted to let me know.” He shrugs, setting his cup down on the coaster and flipping the page of his book. 

You sigh, before (gently) throwing your phone onto the table. “It’s dead. And before you ask, no I didn’t bring a charger. No, Jungkook wasn’t in class today so he couldn’t give me a charger, an umbrella, or a ride. Jimin is sick. And Taehyung doesn’t even go to our school. He's probably getting high with his new fling, so I wouldn’t have been able to ask him either.” You say, listing all the solutions he would’ve thought about in seconds. 

“Mhm,” he nods, closing his book. “And your boyfriend?”

Annoyed, you let out a whine, crossing your arms in front of you. “I don’t know, let me go downstairs and ask him. I’m sure he can stop managing a business to give me an umbrella.” 

Namjoon leans his elbows against the table. “Trouble in paradise?” He tilts his head, clasping his hands on top of his book. 

You shake your head, pulling out your chair and slumping down in it. “Hobi and I are fine. It’s not like he’s leaving in two months or anything.” You throw your hands up in exasperation. 

It’s month seven into your shining relationship with Hoseok, and you should’ve known that things would start to hit the fan sooner rather than Later. Your boyfriend was in the middle of the most tumultuous change of his life. Things were moving quickly and his time dedicated to you was bumped down his monstrous daily to-do list. 

Yet you couldn’t do or say anything because isn’t this what you signed up for? 

“Ah, so there is trouble.” Namjoon chuckles before opening his book again, setting his fancy leather bookmark aside. “This is exactly why I don’t do relationships, they just attract problems.” He adds, giving you a pointed look. 

You roll your eyes, “Shut up asshole, not all of us can be like you and Rina.” 

“Sure you can, it's simple just don't attach any strings to it.” He shrugs, underlining a sentence in his book. 

“Two people who have been only exclusively seeing each other for years literally the definition of strings attached. You can keep denying it all you want but she’s your girlfriend. You guys do all the couple-y stuff.” You grumble, leaning back in your chair, looking out of the window. The gloomy weather adds to your shitty mood. 

“She’s not, we are not dating, and I don’t need to talk about this with you again. Rina and I are on the same page.” He finishes, taking a long sip from his coffee.

“Well, how would you feel if Rina was spending time with another guy, completely ignoring your presence when you walk into her coffee shop all wet and angry because your professor basically told you your topic for your essay was shit.”

Namjoon smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Sounds like you’re jealous of Yuri.” 

“So what if I am?” You bite, “I understand that he’s training her to take over his position, but all he talks about is her and what he needs to teach her when we’re together. And whenever I come in they’re always laughing at something behind the coffee machine. And I know she’s nice and all but I would like his attention too.” You scoff. 

Namjoon hums, tapping his index finger against the table. “Do you trust him?” 

The question doesn’t catch you off guard, the obvious answer is on the tip of your tongue. But with how things have been going lately. You can’t help but hesitate. 

“I don’t know anymore.” You whisper looking down at your hands, turning the ring on your middle finger. “I know I should, and I do…I think I do. It’s just things have been so shit lately and I feel like a burden to him because of everything he has to do.” 

Namjoon lightly kicks your foot under the table, making you raise your head to meet his gaze. “I don’t know if I am being of much help, but he loves you. I know that whatever is happening he’s not doing it intentionally. Just talk to him about it.” 

If only it were that easy. 

“I’d love to but he never has time.” 

“Why not talk to him now then.” He says reaching into his bag to take out his cigarettes and lighter. 

“He’s busy downstairs with Yu–” 

“No, I’m not busy now.” 

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend's voice. You turn your head to look at him. A small tray with a mug of probably chamomile tea on top of it. His hair is shorter than the last time you saw him two days ago. He got a haircut and didn’t even tell you about it. That’s how low you have made it on his list. He can’t even send you a stupid picture of his new haircut. He can’t even send you a ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ text. He also probably forgot that you were nervous for the meeting with your professor about your essay topic.

All these realizations make you want to roll into a ball and cry. You knew your time with Hoseok was limited. You just didn’t expect for the end to be so torturous. 

“That’s what I told her.” Namjoon speaks, narrowing his eyes at you for a second before turning his attention to his best friend. “She’s jealous of Yuri, because you’ve been spending too much time with her.” He shrugs, walking quickly to the stairs before you can bury him ten feet underground. 

You hear Hoseok let out a heavy sigh, and take the seat next to you. “Honeycakes,” he starts.

“Nice haircut.” You interrupt, slumping into your chair more. It earns another heavy sigh from the man sitting next to you. 

“Is Yuri the reason why you’ve been so upset lately?” He says placing a hand on top of your knee underneath the table. 

You let out a dry laugh before shaking your head. “No, it’s not her. It’s how you’ve been acting lately, it’s the time you’ve been spending with her. It's never having time for me anymore. It’s forgetting our date last week. It’s not even telling me that you got a haircut.” You finish, closing your fists to keep yourself from crying. 

Hoseok gives your thigh a squeeze before leaning back in his chair. “You know how things have been lately. I’m trying so hard to do everything I need to do. I don’t mean to be so dismissive but I can’t juggle everything at the same time.” 

You flick off a piece of lint from your jeans. “It’s nice to know that I’m just something you juggle around.” 

“That’s not what I meant. You knew what would happen when I started my application process. You said you understood.” 

“I did, or I thought I did Hoseok. I didn’t think I would become so secondary to you.” You sniffle. “I love that you’re chasing your dreams, but this is me trying to support you. I’m trying to understand how you’re feeling. But you stop me. You have shut me out and now I’m just something you remember sometimes.” You close your eyes, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks. 

The last thing you wanted was to be crying like this in public. 

“I-I want you to tell me when you’re having a hard time like you used to. I want you to feel like you can relax around me when we’re together. But every time we are together, we either argue, you don’t talk, or you talk about work, deadlines, or how you can’t wait to move. How do you think that makes me feel Hoseok?” 

Hoseok sighs, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He kisses your temple. “I wish you would’ve told me earlier before it got to this point.” He whispers, rubbing your back, while you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

“But Hobi like you said, this is what I signed up for. This is what I agreed to.”  You add bitterly. 

“Yes Honeycakes, but you’re still my girlfriend. And I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but I do care about you and I do love you.” He lifts your head from his shoulder. He gently grabs hold of your face, making you look at him. “Just like how you want me to talk to you when something is bothering me, I also want you to talk to me.” 

You close your head sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry that I keep making things difficult.” 

He shakes his head. “You don’t. I’m the one that can’t seem to keep my girlfriend from doubting me. I’m the one who hasn’t told her how much I yearn to be in her presence at every waking moment.” He says, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I love you, and I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant lately. I know that our days are numbered and I would rather ignore the fact that I’m moving away soon than cherish the moments I get to spend with my family, my friends and you.” 

You nod, holding out your pinky out to him. “I promise to keep trying my best.” 

He hooks his pinky with yours bringing your laced fingers up to his lips. “I promise to keep trying my best too.” 

“I love you,” You whisper, letting go of his finger and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

His low laugh makes his chest vibrate against your head, “I love you.” He adds, rubbing soothing circles over your back. “Now, can you please drink your tea before you get a cold. I texted you earlier asking if you needed an umbrella but you didn’t answer. And now look at you coming in here all pouty and wet.”  

You raise your head to look at him, opening your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the forgotten voice of your friend. “Her phone’s dead.” Namjoon throws his lighter onto the wooden table. 

Hoseok tsks shaking his head, reaching over to push the tray of your lukewarm tea closer to you. “I should’ve known. I knew you didn’t charge it last night, just like I knew that you left your umbrella at my place.” He pinches your cheek. “How did your meeting go?” 

“He basically said that I need to restart my essay topic over again.”

Hoseok laughs, bopping your nose with his own. “Well did he say those exact words?” 

“No but it was basically implied.”  You emphasize. 

“Fine, I’ll talk to your study partner if my baby isn’t being told that she’s a genius all the time, then what am I paying him for.” He jokes, which earns a glare from said study partner. 

“You’re not paying me, idiot.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing his brown leather messenger back and stuffing his cigarettes into the front pocket. 

He’s grateful that he came back to smiles and not tears. The stoicness of his actions makes the two of you laugh hard. Your laugh resonates longer in his mind. It always does. No matter how much he tries to deny it. You always resonate longer in his mind. But he pushes that fleeting thought aside. 

Namjoon is happy. 

His friends are happy. 

Things in his life were finally looking up. 

“I have to go, but don’t be late next time and charge your phone.” He says hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. 

You nod, saluting in his direction, before bursting out into a fit of giggles as Hoseok tickles your side. 

Namjoon doesn’t stay for longer than he needs to. He’s already running late to meet Rina, but he can’t hide the smile taking up his space.

He can’t help but feel proud that things were finally looking up for you too. 

a/n: I hope you have enjoyed it. I will try not to be so MIA and upload a little more frequently rather than every 6 months haha. But my life has been pretty busy lately. In the past few months. I have moved to a different part of Seoul and I got a new job. I basically just hang out with my friends when I have free time haha. I also do dance class 3 times a week, and I started personal training last week. But I will try to manage my time better because I do miss writing and this story!

[namfinessed]

go around - j.hs.

genre: angst, fluff (childhoodcrush! brother'sbestfriend!) (8.2k)

summary: to everyone else, he was the sun but to you, he was always the moon, the light you grabbed onto when you could see nothing.

note: grief is something very close to my heart, i've always struggled with it but i'm slowly starting to learn to live with it, i hope everyone who's experienced loss feels like some kind of relief through this, thank you for reading <3

masterlist

-

hoseok was sixteen years old when it happened.

you were thirteen.

and he had thought he was too cool for you then.

you were sitting on the other side of the mary-go-round to him, it was the last but one day of the summer camp you were part of, and you looked at him as if he hung the moon in the sky.

and hoseok felt as high as the moon that night.

but he was also sick to his stomach.

"i like you," you didn't look at him as you said it but hoseok could feel that you meant it, that it took a lot for you to get on that mary-go-round with him, spin with him, build the moon in his eyes and then say the words that he believed were stuck in your throat since when you first saw him.

he knew that your brother wouldn't like that you were saying this.

but he knew, even as a kid, that this was the most honest thing anyone's ever told him.

but he was so cool and so close to your brother, who would kill him if hoseok said anything back.

so, he didn't say anything back.

hoseok pursed his lips and looked away. he swears that, to this day, the tears shining in his eyes were nerves and not the frustration that came with not being able to hold you to the moon too.

the silent rejection didn't yet hit your soft eyes and bare heart.

you kept looking at him, hands gripping the handles so tight that your knuckles changed shades between white and pink and your cheeks puffed, excited and nervous breaths still left your lips.

and hoseok didn't want to be cool for a second there, he didn't want to care about your brother at all, maybe he would just let you take him for a bit, just a bit.

but in your thin eyebrows, he saw your brother.

in your veiny hands, he saw your brother.

in your coily, curly hair, he saw your brother.

so, he got off the mary-go-round, he walked away quickly, not pausing to look at you and he sniffed his tears away, he hugged his jacket closer to his body.

tomorrow, he would be fine.

tomorrow, no one would look at him like he was the moon and he would be okay with it.

but hoseok turned around.

the biggest mistake of his life.

the moon you thought him to be, cast a glow on the tears gathering on your chin and his heart wrenched.

he would fix this, he told himself, he would fix all of this.

but the next day, your brother, his best friend, died.

and you never spoke a word to hoseok again.

-

everything was vibrant when hoseok stepped into your home.

the unkept gardens were now blooming with flowers.

the closed windows were now open and giving a glimpse into the light inside the house.

the home was back to being a home.

he’s seen the transformation take place with his own two eyes over the years and he could confidently conclude that the ten years that cloaked your family and home in darkness were finally nowhere to be found.

and hoseok felt both delight and unease at the development.

“oh honey, you came,” there were few people hoseok could recognize with how they breathed, and your mom, his second mom basically, was one of them.

he didn’t even get to greet her before he was wrapped in a hug that surrounded him with the scent of cinnamon, musky perfume, and somehow, still his best friend.

“of course i did, ma” he kissed the top of her head, his arms not letting her go even if he knew the time for an appropriate hug was up, and she knew it too but she stayed as long as hoseok held her.

and when he let her go, he had to look away from the tears touching her eyelashes.

he probably brought back memories of his friend, maybe he still smelt like his friend too, he doesn’t know but he’s glad if he does.

his best friend’s family was unlike hoseok’s, his own family was distant and cold, and when he became an adult, he cut off all ties with them, he simply couldn’t accept them as family and your mom never let him feel as if he didn’t have one.

“the place is really packed,” hoseok whistled, looking at all the new faces and your mom nodded, “she invited a lot of her friends, i don’t know them but it’s okay, they’re having a good time, you’re here, so it’s all good,” hoseok stiffened at your mention.

you didn’t see him once in the last ten years.

slammed the door on his face.

ignored him even when your mom screamed after you.

locked yourself in your room and never got out if it meant seeing him.

and hoseok learned to accept it, he wouldn’t hang out with him either, especially after what happened.

but it was your birthday and he was invited, by your mom or you, he has no idea but hoseok steels himself to see you at some point in the night.

then, he walks around, introduces himself, ignores the pity that people eye’s throw at him, ignores the sympathetic touches on his arm, ignores the pats on the back and the ‘he must’ve been wonderful to have as a friend’ and he nods because he can’t say that yes, his best friend was an incredible friend until he fucking died.

and suddenly, hoseok wants to punch his best friend, for leaving him with this room of people who didn’t know him but somehow had all the sympathy in the world to shove in his face, for leaving him with no option but to mourn and miss him.

but hoseok was never a good mourner, he was good at going about life normally, good at laughing, good at ignoring his feelings, hoseok wasn’t good at gathering tears in his eyes when he thought of his dead best friend.

after a while, hoseok excuses himself to the bathroom and finds himself in his friend’s room, which remains frozen in time. every poster he hung up, though peeling at the edges on the wall, still stayed, every photo he stuck on top of his bedpost was yellow and faded but again, they stayed.

he doesn’t know how long he stares at their photo, the one they took in the summer camp where hoseok’s head is too small and his arms too thin and wrapped around his friend.

when he ran his fingers over the photo, he didn’t feel anything, he was grazing over hazy memories that he was desperately trying to remember as he got older but they were all slipping away or holding on too tightly at times.

“what the fuck are you doing in jay’s room?”

and he snatches his fingers away from the photo.

as he turns around, he swears he feels his heartbeat in his feet, and no amount of time could ever prepare him to face you.

you’re standing at the door with your arms crossed so defensively over your chest that he’s scared to take a single step forward but something about you, as a sixteen-year-old back then and now, a twenty-six-year-old, always takes his breath away.

and you look so much like jay, from the eyes to the hair to the hands, that he has to look away to breathe again.

“hey,” is all that comes out of hoseok’s mouth and he knows he deserves it when you roll your eyes at him.

“you’re not going to slam the door on me?” he asks and to his surprise, you shake your head, “not this time, my mom might just kill me,” you say while entering through the door and hoseok awkwardly steps around the room to reach where you sit on the bed.

he’s not sure how to feel about your mom having to force you to meet him.

and he’s not sure if he will ever be ready to see you again.

maybe you should’ve slammed the door one last time.

“happy birthday, big numbers now,” hoseok sits five feet away from you on the same bed and he watches your face soften the slightest, “thank you, and yeah, twenty-four doesn’t feel real,” you weakly laugh, falling on the bed and letting your feet dangle off the edge.

“your friends seem fun,” he stayed alert on the edge of the bed, and you nodded half-heartedly, “i guess so, did you meet them?”

“yeah, i said hi and stuff,” hoseok played with his fingers as you sat up again, “they brought up jay?”

“um yeah, they seemed to be very...empathetic about it,” he said, he didn’t know how else to say that your friends' reactions almost made him want to leave the party.

“yeah, they don’t know how to react to dead brothers or best friends, they’re not too bad though,” you laugh again and hoseok just nods, looking away.

for a moment, there’s only silence.

there’s only your breath and his.

there’s only your heartbeat and his.

and hoseok had missed this, he had missed you.

“can you believe it’s been ten years?” he asks because he can’t, he still feels as if it was yesterday that he got the phone call from you.

“i can,” you whisper, “time has been slow for me, so i can,” you’re the one looking away this time and hoseok catches your eyes roaming on the photos stuck above jay’s bed.

“do you want to go downstairs?” you get up from the bed and meet his eyes properly for the first time since you entered the room and he can do nothing but nod.

just before you step out the door, hoseok grabs your hand, immediately dropping it as you stop, “a-are you okay?” he didn’t want to ask you the question that he knows everyone else did but he also wouldn’t sleep that night without asking.

but when you laugh and disappear downstairs, hoseok ends up not sleeping anyway.

-

“thank you so much for coming by,” hoseok shook his head at your mother with the broadest smile and sweat coating his forehead, “of course ma, you can call me whenever you need help,” he pressed a kiss on the top of her head as he passed her and she pushed her face into his arm.

your mom owned a local restaurant and usually, handled everything from deliveries to cooking to serving and hoseok had chastised her multiple times about it.

even now, looking at the full restaurant, hoseok knew he couldn’t leave her to it.

so, after pushing her into the kitchen, he manned the counter for a while and made light conversation with whoever came by.

it felt strange, after so many years, being back around jay’s family, being back in this restaurant where he spent many days and nights.

he shook his head, refusing to let the memories creep back in.

he was used to this, this was just a routine to him, he always helped out, and he knew jay would do it if he was here.

“she loves you a lot already, you don’t have to do all this,” your voice isn’t something he’s used to though, not here, and hoseok’s palms start sweating immediately.

fuck.

he didn’t even put on a good outfit today.

or even perfume, now that he thinks of it.

and he curses himself when you come into view.

“i do this because i love her a lot,” he says with a smile and you roll your eyes, “yeah i know, it’s annoying,” and he frowns, “why?”

but you just wave a hand at him and go into the kitchen.

and hoseok’s left with ten people waving their bills and money at him, so he plasters a smile on his face and continues working.

after some time passes, you come back out from the kitchen with a scowl on your face and hoseok knows this because he hasn’t stopped his eyes from flickering between the kitchen door and the counter in front of him.

“i’ve got it from here, move,” you bark at him as you reach him and hoseok’s frown deepens at you, “it’s only a couple of people, i’ll finish it, don’t worry,” he reassures you but it only seems to irritate you.

“this isn’t your job, hoseok, just move over,” the glare on your face makes hoseok throw his hands up in the air and step away from the counter.

and he goes to the kitchen, he hugs your mom goodbye and he doesn’t bother with saying anything to you while he leaves because he’s sure you will only curse at him. he’s too exhausted today.

but imagine his surprise when the clock strikes midnight, you are at his door with a few soju bottles, snacks, and a sheepish smile on your face.

what the fuck were you doing at his home?

“um, hi?” he adjusts his t-shirt as he greets you, suddenly too aware of his messy hair and pajama pants as his heart once again beats away from his body.

“can i come in?” you ask sheepishly, and he immediately moves away. as you look around his apartment, hoseok still finds it hard to believe that you’re here.

even as you set up the table with soju glasses and food, he can only follow you in a daze.

“come, sit,” you say as if it wasn’t his home, his table, and his chairs but hoseok obliges and sits down.

a few minutes pass with both of you just fidgeting, looking at and away from each other, scratching your necks, and rubbing your fingers together.

until you finally grab the soju bottle and inch toward him.

you take a deep breath in and hoseok lets one out, “i shouldn’t have been so rude at the store, it’s just,” you speak as you pour soju into a shot glass for him and he sits up in his seat, “jay used to be there all the time.” you swallow, moving the bottle away from him and pouring one for yourself too.

“i was there all the time too, you know that,” hoseok says gently, as if to a child and you nod, “yeah, but it was always you and him, not just you.”

always you and him.

not just you.

and the memories that hoseok tried so hard to keep in his head, started creeping their way onto his sneakers and jeans and slipping away like sand.

the nights they snuck in to steal the leftovers.

the days he spent munching down on snacks that your mom generously gave him and jay.

the evenings where they both fanned each other with rolled-up magazines.

the days he spent admiring you at the counter.

but he couldn’t remember the dates, he couldn’t remember the details like what he was wearing that evening when jay hit him with a wooden fan, what was jay wearing when he got dumped by his girlfriend and cried to hoseok, what would jay think of this moment right now, you in front of him with a couple of soju bottles that were bound to be empty soon?

he shifted in his seat, “i won’t come over anymore, i didn’t know you felt like this,” and you purse your lips, “don’t do that, hoseok.”

“do what?” his eyebrows draw closer and you put down your glass to stare at him straight, “be so understanding and nice, just tell me to fuck off and deal with my shit instead of taking it out on you, hate me a little bit because this isn’t fair to you and you know that too.”

hoseok is stunned to silence for a second.

and he has a feeling that these words weren’t just some sudden outburst, you never spoke without letting your thoughts settle so he knows you’ve felt this for a while.

when he catches your wobbling lip and the way you shove food into your mouth to stop the movement, he knows he’s right and his heart softens even more.

“i’m not going to hate you for missing your brother, y/n.” is all he says before he slides your glass towards him and pours you a shot too.

and for a second, you just eye the glass and then look at him with tears so heavy in your eyes that hoseok is surprised they haven’t rolled down your cheeks.

“i think you’re the only one who doesn’t,” you suck in a breath and take the shot, you barely feel the liquid burn down your throat or the tears that finally release from your eyes.

when he raises his eyebrows at you, you shrug with a sniff and look away.

for the rest of the night, hoseok tries to forget that this was exactly how you looked on the mary-go-around ten years ago.

tears on your jaw.

flushed cheeks.

the same coily hair.

for the rest of the night, hoseok stops himself from falling in love again.

-

“again!” your mom threw her hands up in delight after winning one more game of ludo that hoseok had brought over.

you groaned and complained loudly to her, face held up by your elbow and hoseok watched with warm eyes as you and your mom argued about the win.

but he also felt acutely, the empty cushion next to him.

“you’re just a sore loser, learn a thing or two from hoseok,” your mom brought him back to the world, unscathed from his best friend’s haunting.

and hoseok nods proudly, dissolving into giggles when you scoff at him and your mom high-fives him.

“you’re letting her win,” you stare pointedly at him as your mom leaves to bring more snacks and hoseok shrugs happily, “guilty as charged,” and ducks with a laugh when a shower of peanut shells gets thrown in his direction.

“i knew it!” you screeched and he fell onto the floor with a belly full of joy, “mom, i told you, he was letting you win,” you stomped into the kitchen and hoseok heard more sounds of an argument from the kitchen, he rolled his eyes in endearment.

that night, you drop him in your car, and the entire ride, you’re laughing, he’s laughing, you’re speaking nonsense, he’s speaking nonsense, you’re falling on the seat to cover your face and he’s pulling his hands over his eyes to cover his face.

and at his door, you look at him with a face so free of everything.

no lines of worry on your forehead.

no frown between your eyebrows.

no hesitance to smile.

just a hint of moonlight falling over the right side of your face and some of your hair.

and hoseok wonders if he looks the same, if he looks just as beautiful and calm.

but when you keep staring at him with those curious, those tender eyes that he feels you reserve just for him, as if he has the answer to everything, as if he was the answer to everything, hoseok’s heart races in panic and buried love.

both of you realize at the same time, that ten minutes had passed and you were about two inches closer than you were at the beginning of the ride.

he stumbles out of the car, you stutter a goodbye to him and he nods hastily, urging you to leave.

that night, once again, hoseok begs himself to stop falling in love.

-

you only called him once in the many years that he’s known you and it was to tell him that jay had died, it was a freak accident, no one could’ve done anything and hoseok had thought that it was all a dream but your voice, as always, rang true in his ears and he knew that his life, as it was, would change forever.

“hoseok, i-it’s jay, someone hit him with a bike, i don’t know what’s going on, they’re saying they can’t read his pulse, please just come here, p-please.”

your sobs had shaken him so badly that he stumbled out of his camp cabin in his pajamas and he held your mom’s hand the entire time they tried to resurrect jay in the emergency room but once jay flatlined, your mom crumbled in his arms and you ran out of the hospital, you refused to look at him after that night.

and he understands why, he should’ve been there for jay, he should’ve made sure that his best friend didn’t go out for a walk that night or he should’ve gone with jay and been the one to get hit instead.

but it was all over now, and all hoseok was left with was a heavy heart filled with enough guilt for all the years he would live.

so when hoseok’s phone rang in the middle of the night with your name flashing on his screen, his brain unearthed the entire tragedy, the entire night with its roots pulled out of him and he was gasping for breath as he answered.

could it be that something happened to your mom?

did something happen to you?

did something happen to him and everyone else knew but him?

“she’s not letting us call her mom but she said your name, can you come to pick her up?” and twenty minutes later, hoseok pulled up to the only nightclub in the neighborhood to pick you up.

he struggled to hold back a laugh as he saw you draped over your friend’s arms, blissfully drunk, giggling, and utterly exhausted. when he started walking over to you, all of your friends began groaning and complaining to him about you which only made it harder for him not to laugh until your entire weight was shifted onto him and hoseok closed his eyes when you buried your face in his neck, savoring the tender moment.

just like every other minute that he’s alone with you, hoseok can’t believe this minute either.

“i’ve got her from here,” he says, carefully shifting your body to make you more comfortable and you hum in your drunken state, pushing your cheeks further into his collarbones and hoseok tries not to freeze.

“you should join us next time!” your friends all chime in together, their enthusiasm and kind intentions bleed around them and touch hoseok’s heart, maybe he had been too quick to judge them and hoseok gives in, nodding unsurely and they all erupt in cheers which makes him smile.

you had good people around you.

and that made him the happiest person in the world.

as he waves goodbye to them, his hands hold your body closer to him when you start to slide off and all of them exchange looks which hoseok ignores.

he carefully puts you in the passenger seat and pulls off the sidewalk.

he turned up the air conditioner, feeling his body get warmer and warmer as the seconds passed and he forces himself to look at the road and not you.

“hoseok?” the red light glowed on your face when he looked towards you, “yeah, it’s me, just taking you back home,” he doesn’t stop his hands from moving your hair away from your face and caressing your temples with his fingers.

how many years have passed with him missing you?

how many years of loving you has he missed out on?

he doesn’t know how jay would feel about this, maybe he would gag at hoseok’s tender eyes at this moment, perhaps he would tease him but he knows jay wouldn’t hate it.

hoseok pulls back almost immediately as you start to shift, only to relax when your face melts into his fingers.

if it didn’t feel so wrong, hoseok would’ve sat the rest of the night just looking at you and letting the rest of the world pass by.

“don’t take me to mom’s,” you whine and he laughs at your scrunched-up face, “okay, where do you want to go?”

“your’s,” you mumble, and hoseok’s face goes red, it takes him a few minutes and several cars honking at him to come back to earth.

when hoseok carefully lays you on the side of his body and takes you to his bedroom, he bears the torture of your arms tightening around his neck and the torture of your lips accidentally brushing on his skin.

“you like me, right?” you whisper into hoseok’s ear as he covers you with blankets on his bed and he freezes.

when he doesn’t respond, your eyes flutter open, still soft and fuzzy from the alcohol and you ask again, “hoseok, you like me, yes?”

and he’s taken back to the you that asked him out on a mary-go-around, the you that gave him the most honest confession of love in his life, the you that looked at him as if he ripped your heart out.

he nods, “of course i do, we’re family.” and you frown at him.

then, you sit up on the bed and lean forward to hold his face in your hands, hoseok starts sweating under the thin t-shirt he wore, and your fingers touch his face in places that he’s sure didn’t exist before, and every nerve of his melts and burns.

“i’ve always wanted to ask you something,” he says, now that there was no distinction between his breaths and yours and you nod, urging him to go on, “i thought i was always the one who had something to say,” you giggle, falling on his shoulder and hoseok laughs with you.

“why did you start talking to me again? after all this time? it can’t just be because of your mother,” and your laughter vanishes from the air around him, your touch too lifts from his shoulder, and hoseok’s confusion and curiosity grow.

he knows he’s asked the wrong thing, and said the wrong thing, he always does, but why would this question make you so upset?

he just wanted to know why after so many years of ignoring his entire existence, you suddenly chose to come to his home, and suddenly back into his life.

but he also loves that you’re back in his life.

“you don’t have to tell me, go to s-“ he gets up from the bed but is stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist tightly and he sinks back down beside you.

“my reasons are selfish, hoseok,” your tears come back and hoseok is rushing to wipe them away before they ever leave your eyes which only makes them gather faster.

“i don’t care,” he shakes his head and he really doesn’t.

“you should.”

“but i don’t.”

use him, don’t use him, throw him away, or keep him, he’s okay with it all.

your eyes search in his face, any trace of a lie, any trace of dishonesty and you find none that urges you to say, “i need you.”

a strange rush of warmth and bashfulness washes over hoseok as your words run him over.

“it hurts so much and i can’t do this alone, i need you, i just want it to stop hurting,” and hoseok’s heart stops at your broken voice because he knows what’s hurting you and nothing in the world can fix that kind of pain, “i don’t know how to live anymore, every time i come home, i miss him in the space next to my mom, i miss him in the counter that you stand at now, i miss him everywhere and i can’t say this to anyone.”

hoseok barely feels your hands grabbing his as your sobs climb up your throat, “except you, hoseok. no one knows what i feel, it’s pathetic that i miss him still but so do you, i know you feel this too, right?”

and he knows, he knows exactly what it feels like and he also knows that this was building in you since over the past ten years, the same way it’s been building in him.

that sense of loss that never goes away.

that sense of waiting for the relief that comes with moving on, that never came.

that sense of having nowhere to go and cry it out because the rest of the world doesn’t see what it’s lost, only he can and only you can.

“i do,” he finally choked out and your cries grew louder, hoseok winced at the volume and tapped your arms to calm you down but he was barely calm himself.

years and years of his grief catch up to him, run him over, trample over him and his mind ignites with every single second he spent with jay, every single he spent missing jay and then ignoring his memory.

all of it grabs him by the throat and chokes him but he lets your head fall onto his shoulder, and keeps his own tears away from his eyes as your body breaks on him.

when you were kids, hoseok had held you when you were laughing, he had felt your joy go through him, spread onto him, he could feel your happiness as if it was his own.

when you laughed in the car with him, the sound jogged his memory on how to laugh, on how to feel happiness again, he felt it go in and out of him in waves that he couldn’t control.

it was a miracle to him that just by touching someone, you can feel what they feel.

but now, holding you when you were crying, feeling every tear on his own skin, the burden of it all sunk him deeper than he could pull out of but he held you, he wrapped a singular arm around you and buried his head in your hair.

if anyone was going to know that he cried about jay, it was you and if anyone was going to miss jay with you, it was him.

and that night, he let himself fall in love.

-

the next morning, hoseok woke up with swollen eyes but a happy heart, a less lonely heart, he got up from the couch and entered his bedroom where he spent several minutes just staring at your face and stopped himself from kissing your cheek.

he stepped out of the bedroom quietly, padding his feet as gently as he could on the floor, and started preparing pancakes, hot chocolate, and everything else he could remember as something you liked as a kid.

hoseok couldn’t keep the smile off his face the entire time he whisked the batter, stirred the hot chocolate, and put out the plates. every moment that passed reminded him of you in his bedroom, it made him feel fuzzy and warm and ticklish, as if the sun had come to sit on his shoulder.

finally, his life was falling into place.

he almost jumped in excitement when the sound of his bedroom door creaking echoed throughout his apartment. he peeked around the corner to see you dragging your feet with even more swollen eyes than his and he stifled a laugh.

“good morning, pretty,” hoseok sang and giggled when your groan came as a reply.

“what’s all this?” your eyes barely opened to see the spread of food in front of you and he shrugged, “just some breakfast for you, did you take the aspirin beside  the bed?”

you nodded and stood unsurely until hoseok got up and pushed you to sit down gently, “sit down, it’s all still hot, have it soon,” he kissed the top of your head and you stiffened under him.

hoseok quickly stepped away, laughing uncomfortably, and sat down as well.

for the next few minutes, he waited as you took in everything in front of you and his heart raced the entire time.

did he do too much?

was he moving too fast?

but he had already wasted so much time over the years, he wasn’t going to make the same mistak-

“why?”

hoseok frowns at your question, leaning forward to see if he heard it right but when he looks up, he sees your tear-filled eyes and he knows he’s fucked up somehow.

“w-what happened?”

“why are you doing all this?” he doesn’t know if you’re asking him or accusing him of something.

“what do you mean?”

“why.are.you.doing.this?” you punctuate every word with quick breaths and hoseok knows he’s pissed you off.

why or how he’s done that, he has no idea.

“i thought some food would be nice in the morning, especially with your hangover,” he stumbles over his words because he didn’t think he would ever have to explain why he made breakfast for someone.

you stay quiet.

he says your name.

once.

twice.

thrice.

then, you get up from the chair and look at him with both the most anger he’s felt in someone and also, the most pain, “i can’t do this,” you mumble and in the next minute, hoseok’s door is left wide open and your seat is empty.

he watches the food go cold and tries to hold himself together as he clears everything up, all the warmth he felt in the morning disappeared down the same drain that his food went.

and all he could was watch and let it happen.

-

weeks passed and hoseok dipped in and out of the restaurant, trying to see you, catch a word with you, and try to fix things, but whenever you saw him, you ran away.

whenever he waved to you, you would hesitantly lift your hand and then look away, engaging yourself with someone else.

whenever he called you, you wouldn’t pick up.

his messages remained on delivered.

and hoseok’s heart broke little by little as he saw you intentionally pull away from him.

he couldn’t understand why, you had such a beautiful night together, you had poured your heart out to him and he had done the same to you but somehow, it was as if that night didn’t exist to you.

maybe he read it all wrong?

maybe you just needed him as someone who felt the same as you, who experienced the same grief and here he was, his heart growing wings and the love he buried blooming again.

but you had loved him ten years ago.

and that confession was still fresh in his mind, still the most honest thing he’s heard in his life.

maybe he was stupid for ever thinking that you still felt the same love from ten years ago?

but as his mind replayed your words, ‘i need you’, it didn’t make sense to him that suddenly, you wanted to push him away.

“take these when you go home,” your mom packed him multiple boxes of side dishes and rice and everything else she could cook throughout the day and he nodded, thanking her with a kiss on her head, and headed for the door.

until he heard your voice.

his entire body froze at your presence.

but he’s had enough.

hoseok turned around and started walking with loud steps towards the kitchen, and when you came into his vision, he didn’t feel the warmth or the love or any of the good stuff.

he only felt the hurt that blinded him that morning, he only felt the pain spearing his heart as he threw everything away, he only felt the loneliness that played with him until the late hours of the night.

hoseok knows he’s not the best person but he also knows that he didn’t deserve that.

“you asked me that day, why i was doing all that. let me ask you now, why are you doing this?” he glared right at you, and in the corner of his eyes, he saw your mom glance between the two of you and then duck out of the kitchen.

he will apologize to her later.

in front of him, you tilted your head at him and tried to appear tough by crossing your arms across your chest and staring back at him.

but hoseok is past this, he’s tired of being lonely but he doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want to feel lonely when he’s in love.

“look, i don’t know what’s going through your mind and i never will until you tell me, but you can’t do this to me, you can’t push and pull whenever you like, i know you’re hurting somehow but i am too, so figure yourself out and then come to me because i know that i’m not alone in this feeling, i know you feel it too.”

with that, hoseok marched out of the kitchen, hugged your mom on the way out and went back to his empty home, where he might’ve felt lonely but he at least didn’t feel miserable.

you will hopefully find your way back to him.

but if you don’t, hoseok’s just going to have to find a way to be okay with that too.

-

days passed again and hoseok tried to move on.

you didn’t call or message or try to reach him and he took it as a rejection, which was still okay, he would still be okay.

he busied himself with his work, with your mom’s restaurant, and tried to learn how to cook, tried to liven up his apartment with knick-knacks, he took up arts and crafts.

hoseok did everything he could think of and for the most part, he really was okay.

but he also really wasn’t that okay.

he drifted through the days, pushed you out of his mind, and drank a bit from time to time to forget you only to hover his finger over your contact every night, he still kept the blanket you slept on in the corner of his room and not in the laundry basket where it should’ve been.

but still.

he was okay, he told himself, he would go back to some version of himself which was okay.

hoseok walked to the restaurant with his head down, earphones in and counted his steps because he had nothing else to do.

when he reached, he still didn’t look up, he continued to his counter where he removed his hoodie and put on an apron, humming to himself and cleaning the counter up.

until your mom’s shoes came into his view and by the time he looked up, she had grabbed his arm and started shaking him which made him frown.

he looked up to see her tear-streaked face and echoes of her sobs that traveled from her hands to him and the desperate shouts he could only see with his earphones in.

his hands shakily reached up to remove his earphones and then he heard it.

the heart-stopping cries and yells.

hoseok’s eyes went round with panic and he immediately grabbed her body as she fell onto him, he tried his best to soothe her but seeing her tears, was already choking him up.

he tried to keep his panic at bay as he patted her back and tried to make sense of her babbling.

what if something happened to you?

he couldn’t deal with that kind of grief; he wouldn’t survive it.

“she hasn’t picked up a single call,” something did happen to you, and hoseok bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his sobs.

“ma,” he grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes, “please breathe with me,” she nodded, timing her inhalation and exhalation with him and when her sniffles subsided, she told him, “she ran away this morning, i’ve looked everywhere and i’ve called everyone, no one has seen her, i don’t know what to do and the police aren’t doing anything until she’s gone for a day but you know her, she never does this.”

she rambled endlessly to him and hoseok held onto her the entire time, feeling only a bit hurt that she never called him but that wasn’t a concern right now.

at the end of it, he offered her a glass of water, removed his apron, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before heading straight for the door.

“hoseok,” he stopped at her voice, “i only didn’t call you because i know you two aren’t doing well right now, otherwise you know you’re like my son.” and hoseok melted, he smiled and took her hands as he said, “don’t worry about that ma, we’re family, you keep calling people and i’ll try to find her.”

he didn’t know what to feel once he stepped out of the restaurant.

in the restaurant, he could focus on reassuring and comforting your mom, he could place all his energy into caring for her but now, he was alone and he didn’t know what to feel.

hoseok got into his car only to realize he didn’t know where to fucking begin, you could be anywhere by this time, even a different city but he has a feeling that you were not too far.

but he didn’t know that with certainty either.

every thought he had only put him in a chokehold as his mind reeled with every worst-case scenario.

nevertheless, he put his fears aside and started the car.

the next few hours, he drove in every street, looked in every club and café, kept checking his phone some one million times, and stopped at the entrance of his summer camp where his life seemed to begin and end.

jay would’ve had a panic attack if he was here with hoseok right now, hoseok smiled as he thought of how worried jay would’ve been and how he probably would’ve cursed you out after finding you, how he would’ve hugged you and hoseok in relief, how he would never let it happen again.

jay would’ve been so many things if he was still there with hoseok and that killed hoseok every day.

he kept staring at the entrance where he ran out of the day jay died, where he held back his tears and shook his head and told himself that it was all a lie, that his best friend was still alive.

hoseok threw his head back on his car seat.

grief was so unfair; it took away so much and left him with so little.

if it was so hard for him, he couldn’t imagine how much more angry or sad grief would’ve made you over the years.

and just as he blinks back tears, his phone rings and he runs his hand over his face to answer it, “ma, i’m still out, don’t worry, we’ll find her,” he starts reassuring only to hear nothing on the other end.

“hello?” he frowns.

“hoseok?”

and he almost drops his phone in relief.

“god, are you okay?” he immediately sits up, starting the car again, “where are you? i’m coming to get you right now, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“why aren’t you home?”

“huh?”

“why aren’t you home right now?”

“are you at my place?” hoseok frown becomes even deeper and he knows your silence only means one thing, he sighs out, “stay there.”

and he’s turning the car, calling your mom to tell her the news, and feeling a hundred different emotions as he reaches the lane of his apartment.

right by his door, he finds you, sitting on the floor with your knees to your chest and the rocks slid off his shoulders, he feels air enter his chest at the sight of you, unharmed and safe and breathing and…alive.

he doesn’t know why he’d even thought as far as you being dead but he couldn’t help it.

it was midnight but the moonlight, as always, found you and your tears, and hoseok sat right next to you and stretched his legs out in front of him.

 “why didn’t you say anything back?” he hears you mumble and he frowns, “when?”

“that day in summer camp, when i told you i liked you, why didn’t you say anything back?”

and hoseok sighs, the secret he’s held in his heart for as long as he remembers, starts crawling up his throat, “i like you too,” and his lack of using the past tense has you sitting up straight, tears now reduced to sniffles.

“you do?” and the way you ask it almost has him hitting his own head, how did he ever let you think otherwise?

“i would be crazy if i didn’t,” he smiles weakly at you, his heart suddenly exposed and raw and beating louder than it ever has before, and you fall back on the wall, “but you just walked away then.”

and hoseok knows he can’t hide it anymore.

“i didn’t say anything because i went to jay,” hoseok recalls how cold the night was, how quick his steps were to reach his best friend and he watches your face light up and fall, all in just seconds.

“i needed to ask him if it was okay, i needed to tell him that i liked his sister and that i wanted to take care of her, and he didn’t like it,” hoseok shakes his head, a strained laugh leaving his lips, “we fought all night, but i guess he saw how much i meant it, so he gave me his blessing,” he looks up at you and you’re closing your eyes, letting your head fall back.

“he gave us his blessing, y/n, he did and that’s why i’ve never given up on you, he was so dramatic about it, you would’ve hit him if you saw him say it,” he laughs, the memory still so fresh of jay hugging hoseok and whispering to him that he would be dead the next second if he ever hurt you, how jay stopped himself from smiling as he thought of you with him.

he kept that close to his heart and never told anyone about it, it was for him and jay until today but now, it was for you too.

every time he felt bitter over the years that you avoided him, hoseok reminded himself that he loved you and he always will, and jay would love that hoseok loved you.

and you’re holding back sobs that still escape and tear into the world.

“i’m sorry,” he hears you say and he hums before placing your head on his shoulder, he tries not to cry when he feels your sobs, he sniffles and looks at his feet.

“i was so scared that morning, i told you everything i’ve never told anyone the night before and you still treated me with love, i thought you would tell me to leave, that you would finally have had enough but you didn’t and it still scared me. you shouldn’t be in my life hoseok, i will ruin you,” his heart sinks and hoseok moves closer to you because he doesn’t know where he belongs if it’s not beside you.

“i don’t want to be anywhere else,” he says and presses his hand to the side of your head.

“i can’t stop missing him, hoseok, i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you shake your head and he sighs, feeling his throat close up.

“i miss him too.”

“but it’s been so long and i feel like i should move on by now, i don’t know,” you mumble, your tears falling into his shirt and skin.

“jay’s not some ancient history but i think he would hate both of us for being stuck like this.”

“i don’t know another way to live.”

“neither do i,” he shrugs, he knows how lonely he’s felt, how solitary his life was but, “but it will always hurt, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot, you lost a brother, a companion for life, i lost a best friend, my soulmate and it’s always going to hurt. but i don’t want either of us to be alone in that pain, we don’t deserve that.”

life can take everything away from him but if we had a few good people and he could love those people, that was enough for him.

“it’s about time we start living for jay, do everything he would’ve done, feel everything he would’ve felt, and keep him alive, don’t you think so?”

and when you nod, fall on his shoulder, and whisper your love to him, it’s just like the first time, the most honest words he’s heard in his life.

hoseok knows his life can sometimes feel empty but sometimes, like right now, it can feel so full that he wouldn’t know what to do with all the love he gave and received.

he whispers his love back to you.

until dawn, you cried on his shoulder, and in the morning, hoseok made breakfast for you, you kissed him and whispered your thanks, he kissed you and whispered his love again, and you smiled and ate the food he made.

and it was calm, normal, another day but everything had changed once again for hoseok.

because this time, he had you and you had him, and in both your hearts and minds, you had jay.

and you learned to live life again, with love, and not just regret, with happiness, and not just guilt.

you lived, not just to grieve and mourn, but to actually live and build a life, with hoseok right by your side. he lived, without

-

taglist: @blissingtaehyung @cuteipat @hobicorewhore @yoongleskitten @mrjeonghan @greenie-frog @avawants2havefun @an-ever-angry-bi @alyenorgondorwarrior thank you all so much for liking the preview, i hope you enjoy the full fic <3]

[peoniesnro]

Chapeter Index

In Another Universe

Synopsis- When you're just another iteration of Park Jimins girlfriend in a different universe.

Genre- Parallel universe au/ Strangers to ??/ Smut/ Angst/ Fluff/ Infidelity

Warnings - Smut / Infidelity/ Language

Taglist?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter #1. Park Jimin

Chapter #2. A Lil' Roll

Chapter #3. Perfect Strangers

Chapter #4. F.R.I.E.N.D.S

Chapter #5. A beautiful memory

Chapter #6. A day in paradise

Chapter #7. GOOD FUCKING BYE!

[hoseoksluna]

BERRIES | jjk ft. jhs

pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x oc (feat. hobi)

genre: angst, tiny fluff, itty bitty smut

word count: 6.0k

summary: your ex-boyfriend shouldn't have this much influence over you when you have a new man, should he?

playlist: berries / pinterest board: berries

warnings: depression, daddy issues, use of titles, oc has dirty thoughts about hobi (do we blame her? no, we do not), slowburn, implied sex, dd/lg, soft argument

note: this took every last bit of my strength, so i had to split it up. i'm sorry if this is a piece of absolute shit, but as you all know work this week squeezed everything out of me and i'm so exhausted that i'm not even sure if this is worth posting. i struggled a lot with this fic, rewrote it multiple times, and i'm so very happy that it's finished. i hope you all enjoy the start of a new series, this time a slowburn that will have more parts, more depth and everything. and surprise! it features hobi, my beautiful husband. it was my first time writing about him and he's missing so terribly from my soul that it was one of the reasons why i struggled so much. i wish it weren't like this for my first time with him, but oh well. i hope you, guys, enjoy. please, let me know what you think. <3

The satiny material of your cream-colored dress must be the one and the same that these sculptures had worn centuries ago. You can almost imagine the softness kissing your fingerprint instead of the cool stone as you graze your touch against each and every immortalized angel of loveliness. You’re stirred by a sense of poignancy—that you’re alive and they’re not and yet you believe that as you stare at them, feel what they’ve been through the more you study their eternal expressions, they stare right back with their eternally tender eyes, see right through you, through your heart, know its contents. You wish you were in their place instead; you’re sure they would’ve handled your cursed life better than you can. 

Or you wish you were as stony as them. 

But you’re an opulent fountain of emotions that are anything but gentle. 

This thought distracts your attention from the way your feet ache in the boots you chose to wear to impress your date. Thigh high, with black knee socks underneath to keep you warm from the cruel breath of autumn. Hoseok is carrying your trenchcoat as you’re adventuring on your own in this art museum and that’s the only sliver of kindness he’s shown you this very morning. 

The only compliment you’ve received from him was a nonverbal one. An up and down look with a smirk creeping in when he picked you up at your apartment. No hug, no caress. You felt so small—and awkward a little bit, comparison rushing in. Not in the form of a wave of the sea, but in the form of a snake, its thick body tightening around your throat. An ouroboros, which made you regret going out on a date so soon. 

It hasn’t even been a month since you’ve become a single girl again, learning how to walk in this new, harsh reality, your legs wobbly, weak and too, too heavy. And the lack of comfortable physical contact made you see your ex-boyfriend before your own eyes, the memory of how he acted at the beginning of your first date. The way he picked you up into his arms due to his excitement of being with you and carried you inside his car. He put on your seatbelt for you. Drove carefully. Held your hand as he led you to the restaurant he picked for you. Even during the walk after while you talked about the stars and you couldn’t help but tell him that his eyes were filled with them. 

Hoseok did neither of those things. He had asked you where you wanted to go and you’ve wanted to visit the museum for quite a while, so you suggested it. He had agreed, no sort of enthusiasm evident in his voice muffled by the phone call. And you’ve barely exchanged a few words during the half an hour of your time spent here, let alone led an entire conversation. You should’ve heeded the warning when it was right in front of you.

Hoseok is certainly not of the artistic kind. 

Looks quite bored as you turn your head to look at him, your coat dangling from his arm so terribly devastatingly. And when you focus your gaze to your right, where a dark wine-tinged room, with golden frames of paintings, awaits you and where you’ve longed to go the moment you stepped a foot inside this grand building, a distaste pools on your tongue, your former aesthetic elation ruined. 

You’re surprised he didn’t stand you up. 

You don’t even want to take pictures. As a matter of fact, you want to go home. But you can’t. Can’t ravage your only possibility and means of forgetting the person you still love. Can’t really encourage Hoseok to leave your life, not when you’re the type of person that doesn’t find love upon every corner you turn to. 

This is your only chance. And he’s the only man you’ll conceivably have in your life for quite some time. 

You walk up to him and take your coat from his arm. His eyes deepen on you, in fact they haven’t strayed from you during the entire half an hour—and that bothers you. If your ex-boyfriend were here, he’d share the beauty with you. Make you laugh so hard that the sound would echo around the vast room. Perhaps give life to the sculptures and they would laugh along, too. 

Your heart hangs heavy in your chest, sinks ever so slowly and you can’t bear it. You need to leave. Take this date elsewhere, hope for betterment to grace you—to have but a fragment of pity for you. 

“You hungry?” you ask, softly, willing your voice to be smooth and not divulge the brassy storm of your emotions to him. Hoseok doesn’t know anything about you. Doesn’t know that you yearn for another person to be standing in his place. “Did you have breakfast?” 

Hoseok needed the date to be in the early hours. Said he had a meeting in the afternoon. Would be working on a project with his colleagues until the late hours. You didn’t mind, not really, in fact it animated you—brought briskness into the sadness of your headspace, knowing it was rainy and cloudy outside. Perfect weather for the influence of the arts. That is, until you realized that it was a grave mistake to take a businessman to a museum; that you dragged a heathen to a church.

Hoseok shifts his weight on each foot, his shoulders swaying with the movement, and he licks his lip, bringing your attention to them. Small, but full—you wonder what they would feel like against yours. Wonder if he’d be gentle with you or violent. If he’d stroke your hair or grip it; fondle the ribbon you’re wearing in a half up do or untie it, entirely. Use it for another means like your ex-boyfriend invariably did. 

Your distaste grows, but not for Hoseok. It grows like poison ivy for yourself and your tendency to compare him with someone he doesn’t deserve to be juxtaposed with. 

Guilt blossoms in your sternum, the leaves of that poison ivy. Pretty to the eye, but deadly for the body. Just like you. You’re too baneful for such a pretty man like Hoseok. You’d do well to respect his boundaries and abstain from physical contact, prevent red rashes from marring his skin.

“I haven’t eaten yet,” Hoseok says, just as softly, rubbing the nape of his neck, the black cloth of his dress shirt taut over his arms—a pretty sight, one that could be hanging in the wine-tinged room for generations to gawk upon. “Truth be told, I was too nervous.” 

A brief smile adorns his slender face and you melt, the poison ivy scratching you raw. Your heart picks up its rhythm, flattery clothing it in a protective layer and you pout, your hand itching to graze his forearm. But a hidden fight rises in you, an army of darkness ready with their bows, their arrows shooting thoughts into your brain about how little you’re worthy of such kindness and favor. 

Though when Hoseok blushes upon seeing your tender expression, it gives you some sort of strength to stand tall against those demons. Despite the fact you don’t understand it, you don’t question it either and you cling to it, sensing its freedom speaking to you in a foreign language. A yearning forms in you, one you haven’t yet had the possibility of meeting. A yearning to learn its syntax and vocabulary. And when you give in to it, the poison ivy in you lessens. 

This is good. 

You reciprocate his smile and you coo. Find it the easiest thing in the world. And because you’re so grateful for what he’s unwittingly done for you, you decide to share your truth with him as well. 

“Let’s go eat, then.” Your eyes crinkle and you’d bet light flickers in them, for your whole body does, you sense it. A warm light enlarges on its axis, taking a hold of the heaviness you felt. “There’s no need to be nervous. It’s what I told myself when I was getting ready. My stomach hurt and believe it or not when I told myself these words, it stopped.” 

Hoseok chuckles, his arm slapping back to his side, but you notice that it trembles. You’re so touched by it that you become angry at yourself, self-hatred clashing with that warmth. You misinterpreted him so unfairly and what’s more, you wallowed in your brokenness and your heartbreak, when Hoseok had been nervous and timid the whole time, which now sheds light on his lack of closeness with you. 

You’re despicable. And the awareness of it transforms into that snake tightening around your throat again. Only this time, you welcome it. Long for it to take your life. It’s the least you deserve. 

But you’re not letting yourself loll in the bed of your horrendous emotions. No, you lift your hand and you caress his arm, the one that quakes. And amidst the sepulchral attention of the sculptures, you’re a witness to that trembling’s halt, to Hoseok’s visible tranquility, and you want to weep. 

You know if you were to gaze at the eternal angels of beauty, you’d see stony tears appear on their ivory cheeks, too. 

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok mumbles and you curl your brows in confusion, not knowing what he’s apologizing for. Hoseok opens his mouth again to speak, but he pauses, sloshing the words in his mouth. You feel so bad that a craving to better yourself overcomes your entire being. “I’m sorry for being such a buzzkill. If you wanna explore this place more, we can. I saw you looking at the room with the paintings.” 

He tilts his head in the direction of the aforementioned room, but you care very little about it as of now. You’d much rather take this elsewhere and get to know him better, so you don’t make the mistake of distorting him again. You’re not very keen on forcing a heathen to pray, either, however you do appreciate his willingness and attentiveness. Carry those things into your jarred heart, fold them inside its chambers, the edge pieces to the puzzle of his personality. 

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, taking it one step further and hooking your arm around his. Hoseok sighs, his shyness slowly breaking apart as he clasps his hand over yours and if you could dissolve any more, now would be the perfect time for it. His hold is strong and steady—and it creates something stable within you, an orchard of fruit trees, pink and green, and bushes of berries, a safe place you want to rest in; lay down your brokenness and woes in. “You’re good. No need to apologize.”

His blush deepens at the reassurance and he smiles, softly, running his thumb over your knuckles. And the gratefulness you feel due to the fact he’s touching you, it is the rain that freshens up the apples and cherries hanging on the twigs of those trees, guiding it into full bloom. You focus on it—focus on the thick, cottony material of his dress shirt as you rub his forearm in response. You want to acknowledge yourself with the unspoken parts of him like these, remember them, allow them to heal you and crack the plaster over your heart. 

And there you hear it. The crumble as Hoseok leans in and presses a chaste peck onto your cheek, lingering there for a second more, inhaling your sandalwood scent. And his smile widens as he looks down on you at such close proximity, erasing your touch-starvation once and for all. It’s your turn to blush now and you feel an inkling to shy away from his gaze, but you stifle it back. Curl your mouth in a smile—your heart thumping louder amidst the orchard now that it has more space to function in. 

“No, I really want to apologize. It’s been too long since I’ve been on a date and you’re so stunning that I’ve forgotten my game, so I can’t help but to be nervous. I don’t know how to act around you,” he says, mutedly, punctuating his sentence with a breathy laugh, glimmering eyes flicking to the lining of your silky neckline just below your collarbones, tracing the miniature cherub hung up on your dainty necklace plated in gold, motionless against your dress. Your own heart grows wings and momentum in its place, fluttering in haste to move closer to him. He bores his gaze back into yours, letting it stay there. “Art isn’t really my thing, but you look like you belong here. Look like all those angels around.” He nods at your necklace. “And like that angel, too. Can I take a picture of you?”

You’re so taken aback that you don’t have time to respond. Pulling out his phone from the pocket of his dress pants, he withdraws from you and gently ushers you in the direction of the closest angel, your trenchcoat slung over his arm again, vibrating with life. He positions you how he likes—right in front of the immense sculpture, your head turned slightly to the side so the wisps of your white ribbon in your hair can be seen. His touch grounds you, tells your bloodstream, your organs that everything is okay, repeats it a little louder to your headspace—all before war could be declared with you. 

Hoseok, the prince of peace. 

The prince that crouches to the dirty floor so the vastness of the angel’s wings can fit in the shot. Yours, too. You think you’ve grown a pair of your own, alongside your heart, now that your shared honesty brought you closer.

You struggle to hold back your sob, to stop the corners of your mouth from rounding, your chin from quivering—all because the lightness that you sense wrapping over your heart is one you haven’t felt in a really long time. You feel taken care of, feel like you can depend on him, and while you can’t explain why you feel that way, you consider that such an immense blessing, regardless. So much that your eyes wet for the camera, but you don’t mind. Let that be captured in the memory—the mending that occurred. And let that be safe with him. 

You smile and the flash goes off, which causes you to burst into giggles, your liquid softness forgotten, and run to him, your palm covering his phone camera so nobody sees his defiance. You look around to make sure no employee is in sight before you face him, cheeks warm, heart warm, wings warm, body warm. Hoseok quirks a brow, confused, gaping up at you from his position, and you take a deep breath to halt another inrush of laughter.

“You can’t take pictures with flash here. They’ll throw us out,” you whisper-shout, your giggles escaping your tightened mouth. His own forms into an ‘O’, fingers clicking on his screen, presumably turning off the automatic flash.

“I didn’t know,” he whisper-shouts back, mouth stretched in a lopsided grin. “I haven’t been here since I was a kid.” You shake your head, shoulders still shaking with the last of your giggles. He probably didn’t have a phone back then, which makes it even funnier. He inspects his settings again to make sure it’s all good before his hand finds your thigh and pushes you back. “Okay, I turned it off. Go back to the angel.” 

It’s your whole body that flutters now, not just your heart, both pairs of wings unfurling, and when you retrace your steps, you still feel the heat of his touch—half on the fabric of your dress, half on your bare skin. And as you smile more naturally for the picture this time, greed kisses your core. A greed for more of his touch; on the same place as well as elsewhere. 

A twinkle of where he could possibly touch you flashes before your eyes and it’s all your focal point consists of when you turn your head to your former position the way he wanted it and he praises you for it: “Good, good.” 

Your muscles clench as you imagine his hand going underneath the fabric, exploring what’s hidden in there for him. The words of praise he would utter at the discovery of your private flesh. Your ears must be red. Such a twist of events you didn’t expect. A meek form of demureness creeps in, enveloping you in a feminine sensuality and you’ve missed feeling this way. Missed feeling pretty and alluring for yourself first, then for a man second. Missed being the center of your attention like this, of someone else’s as well. 

You’ve always loved it. Perhaps due to the fact that you very seldom have it—so when it does come, it changes your life and you attach your being to it. 

You didn’t anticipate going home with Hoseok, especially not on the first date. But because you’re being fed, you don’t really care about being proper. You want to go home with him and so you simply shall. 

Can’t let the opportunity run away from you. 

And so you arch your back a little bit more, look up at the angel and give her your silent thanks, your hair flowing around your form when you flick your gaze back to Hoseok to see him concentrated on the task, his smooth features gravely serious. Your stomach flips. 

“Now from the back,” he instructs without lifting his eyes off of the screen of his phone. “Just like you were.” 

A breath lodges in your throat, the double meaning burning the poison ivy down to ashes and you swallow it, let your stomach acid consume it until there’s nothing left of it, until all that your body carries is nothing but the lightness and the seductiveness that Hoseok gracefully gave you, the comfortable heft of the wings that grew because of him. 

It’s those things that drive forth your following words with the world’s ease, unabashedly. 

“You want it from the back?” 

Hoseok’s mouth parts and the look he exchanges with you should chill your blood, but it doesn’t. If anything, it boils it. The heat that wafts off it pools in your core before ascending to your imaginary wings, leaving them dripping with sweat and the dew of titillation. Hoseok’s eyes narrow, shadowed by the furrow of his brows, encouraging it all the more. 

There is it—the heady energy shift, permeated with the sweetest of berry juices, stemming from lust, from the orchard he planted in you. Strengthening your allure, steeling you from head to toe. You submit to it; kneel into it, notionally. Your elation raises from the dead—and you grin. 

“Behave.”

A pulse in your private parts. The lengthening of your expression of delight. Your wings, your muscles clench and the same winged creatures soar to your heart from your stomach, squeezing the beating flesh. You swivel on your heels, the hem of your dress rippling, exposing more of your tender skin, the ribbon in your hair following suit. 

Hoseok sucks in a breath. Your cheeks ache from the joy’s strain and it is utterly exhilarating to you. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Hoseok coos his approval and you can’t take it anymore. You let him take a few more pictures as you move around, dancing in your own way, running your fingers through your hair, trying to distract yourself from the throbbing between your legs, but to no avail. And when you sigh and face him head-on, Hoseok is already on his feet, walking towards you with a reappearing lopsided grin that forces the butterflies gnawing at your heart to go absolutely rampant. 

You’re done for. You need to take him home. You’re not even curious about how the pictures came out—you can always look at them later. 

Hoseok seems to know about your neediness because when he crosses the distance, he cups your chin. Makes you look up at him. And his smirk deepens while your heart increases in size, wings flitting at the special attention. 

“Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs, caressing your skin with his thumb. Your eyes round and the heat you feel is sweltering underneath your clothes. All the more reason for him to take them off. “The pictures are great. Wanna see?” 

Biting your lip, you shake your head, briefly. “What I want is to make you breakfast,” you say, mirroring his tone, hoping he gets the hint. 

Hoseok waggles your chin, humming. “Oh, yeah?” 

Fuck. If his scolding already didn’t make you submissive, then his response and his actions have. You wet your mouth, teeth instinctively sinking back in, and only nod. Hoseok opens your coat and covers your shoulders in its warmth, pressing the cotton twill fabric against your sternum. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

A fond sound pours out of him and the fact that he likes to be called by that title heightens the pulse between your legs. “Let’s go.” 

He leads you towards the exit with a hand on the small of your back and you’re so happy to be touched at last that with a final look at the angels, you send out your silent love and goodbye to them, thank them one last time for the kindness you received because of them, one that you so ferociously sought after and longed for. 

They seem to bow to you, happy to be of service, and you smile so profoundly that you feel as though nothing could stain your joy and mar it all over again. They wouldn’t allow that to happen—and a tendril of hope burst open within you like sunlight tearing through clouds, one that is suffused with the notion that Hoseok would stand in the way, side by side with those sculptures, too.

And he does when you swivel your head back and catch a glance of someone you know. 

A piercing on the side of his brow, unchanged from the last time you saw him. Round eyes, murky. Ashen complexion that used to bloom with vibrant tints. Full, soft-toned mouth, ever so stuck in that pout, one you used to kiss until it bruised. 

Your bloodstream doesn’t cease its flow. Not until you notice the person beside him. 

A girl with an aura so cataclysmic that it forces you to stop dead in your tracks. An August night storm personified, obnoxiously sweet-smelling of the past summer that you spent with her companion. The hollow, funereal scent of a meadow doused in petrichor—she walks with it, her hands intertwined before her in a clasp. 

You wished for him to be in Hoseok’s place so ardently that he appeared. And now that you contemplate him, the lack of distance between him and the girl, it makes you regret that you ever did. 

Because, unknowingly, it drenched you in gasoline and his presence is a lighter, hers the hand that has flicked it to life and now serenely holds it against your skin, waiting until the flames, little by little, devour you whole. 

And the job is finished when both of their heads whirl, meeting your livid stare. 

And Jungkook, too, stops dead in his tracks. 

“Do you know him?” Hoseok asks and you find it strange that you can hear him when all you can see is red. 

And the red fades into the matching black shirt that Jungkook is wearing, into his bluntly pained mien; into the strands of his date’s short hair and her scrunched up brows as she regards you with a strong aversion that makes you scoff. And the same red weakens when Hoseok turns your attention to him by playing with the ends of your ribbon, grazing them before twirling them around his finger. 

A breath of fresh air, he is. 

You don’t know what to say. Don’t know whether to tell him the truth or come up with something that won’t devastate what you have currently going on with him. But if you lie to him, you’ll stumble into a dead end you’d much rather stay clear of. You’d see it before your eyes once you do take him home and it would ruin the newness he brought up with you, preventing it from taking root in you. 

Devastation awaits you in either case. Both you and Hoseok. 

Cursed, your life is. Doomed, absolutely fucking doomed. 

What would the angels do in your place? 

Seeking their wisdom behind you, it is not in them that you find your answer, but in the passing pair dressed in black, making their way over to the dark-wined room. He’s pretending he didn’t see you at all, walking away from you without saying a word, despite the fact you broke up on good terms. 

You worshiped him in this very building almost on your knees and he dismissed you as if you meant nothing to him, caring for the feelings of his date, instead. 

Peculiarly, the sentiments Hoseok installed in you, both of the passionate and the soft kind, turn that fire blue and it becomes the driving force that guides you to act without a single thought spared. 

“Yeah, I do know him. Do you mind if I quickly say hi to him?”

The corner of Hoseok’s mouth curls and he caresses your hair down your back one last time.  “Go, I’ll get the car ready.” 

Such a confident, strong man, broken out of the confines of his former timidness. Not possessive, nor insecure—letting you do what you want. Respectful of your personal life that doesn’t include him just yet. And for that very reason it will—as soon as you’re done putting out that fire in you. 

It’s not only you that has gone through a change upon this hour and it strikes your awe, enough for you to lean in and peck his cheek, just like he did to you. 

Hoseok makes a sound of endearment, pivots on his feet to leave you to it, but you grab a hold of his hand. Have a need to say something to him. 

His brows rise at the attention and you brush your hand across his knuckles, mimicking his previous actions, having learned them, intimately. 

“Thank you, Hoseok. Really,” you say with a smile that could magnetically pull the sunlight out of its hiding place behind the clouds and bathe this bizarre room in light. You squeeze his hand. 

A swirl of shyness flushes his face in rose pink and he shakes his head. “No need to thank me,” he assures, reciprocating the smile. “And call me Hobi. You can save Hoseok for later.” 

Your jaw falls open and Hoseok chuckles, warmly, deepening the pulse between your legs until a wet spot adorns your panties beneath your dress, one that you look forward to showing him at the aforementioned time. 

He pivots again and you watch his tall, lean figure leave. Back muscles clothed in black, straining against the fabric. He must’ve undergone his military service. 

A beautiful man. You can’t wait to taste him. Taste that manliness. 

Loosening a breath, you turn around to search for your ex-boyfriend. And much to your dismay, he’s appreciating the angel sculpture—the very one and only Hoseok took your pictures with. Fire licks at your every nerve ending, but then you notice that his date is nowhere in sight. 

A perfect opportunity to do what you want to do. 

Pulling out your phone out of your little purse, you look for his name in the history of your calls and tap on it, placing the device against your ear, your hoop earrings clashing against the screen. You watch him palm his pocket as the vibration disturbs his aesthetic pleasure and he casts a long glance at your name filling up his screen. Doesn’t comb his gaze through his surroundings. No, he seems to be transfixed by the twist of events and when he swipes his finger to accept the call, his stare begins to dig a hole into the dirty, marble floor. 

Doesn’t say anything. 

You scoff, fury grazing your fire. “You’re pretending not to know me? That’s low.” His pout rounds and the tip of his shoe traces the edges of the ruination he’s caused. Remains silent. “Who’s your little girlfriend? I thought you’d introduce me. Where is she, anyways?” 

It’s him who scoffs now and he flicks his gaze towards the face of the angel. It’s like he’s staring right at you. “You shouldn’t be doing this, little one.” 

The too familiar pet name brings agony to your heart and you would break had Hoseok not given you his strength, if the dependability of him waiting for you outside wasn’t real. And the allure and the lightness in you, perhaps the very love of the sculptures encompassing you—all of those things only vivify your solidity. You have no reason to break, you’re safe. 

“Well, I think you should be a good Daddy and meet me right there in the red room,” you seethe, glad for the anger to be lingering in you, for the utterance of the title leaving you unscathed. You’re just giving him a taste of his own poison, nothing else. 

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair and sighs, clenching his jaw. “Don’t call me that.” 

You chuckle, enlivened by the provocation. “I can do whatever I want. Besides, you started it.” 

He grits his teeth. “Not when you’re talking to me, you can’t.” 

Your fire rises in overwhelming waves, your curt response ready on your tongue, but Jungkook hangs up, making you shut your mouth, instantly. 

You hate him for that; hate him with the entirety of your being. 

What has happened to your friendship? To the sweet, weeping Jungkook who broke up with you because he didn’t want to cause you any more pain with the state of his mental health, who has been dealing with depression for so long that he’s reached a point of no return, a lightless room with no windows, where all he saw was you, and he didn’t want you to be a victim of such unhealthy attachment. So he bid you goodbye, hugged you until you couldn’t breathe and let you go. 

Three weeks ago. 

You haven’t seen him or heard from him since until now. Until you’ve found someone else and moved on with your life. That’s just your luck. 

And now the person you’re gazing at, it’s not the same one that wept against your chest. Yes, he might have been strict with you during intimate times, teased you with his fatherliness during the day even—but that invariably was imbued with the mellowness of love. 

Try as you may while his words ring in your headspace, you cannot unearth any trace of that same mellowness in it. Only bitterness, coldness and a profound darkness. 

Jungkook pockets his phone and, leaving both of his hands there, sunk deeply, he walks over to the wine-tinged room, his frown obscuring the place in gloom. Murky clouds, personified. A perfect match to the storm of his companion. Bile lodges inside your throat. 

You follow after him, your feet aching terribly in your boots, but it serves as some kind of alleviation to the tautness of your emotions, of your confusion, disgust and offence. Makes you feel better—because once you see Jungkook ogling a certain painting of a woman beaming at him softly, dressed in flowers, blues and greens as the redness akin to your fire burns in her background, the agony tries to slither its way inside your heart, but fails.

You’re a locked orchard. 

Jungkook senses your presence and he swivels, biting the inside of his cheek, pierced brow quirking. There’s a strain to his shoulders and his Adam’s apple bobbles as he takes in your appearance. The creaminess of your short, silky dress, the darker shade of the same color of your trenchcoat slung loosely over your shoulders, exposing your brown, leather, high-heeled boots, your matching purse clutched in both of your hands as you strut towards him. Calm, all of a sudden. It does nothing to you, nothing whatsoever—your heart momentarily attached to Hoseok.

“I thought you’d already left,” he murmurs, tipping up his chin. Begins to sway back and forth on the balls of his feet, the carmine hues of the room swathing him in a deeper shade of darkness. “Isn’t your boyfriend waiting for you?” 

You don’t bother to correct him. It’s none of his business who Hobi is to you, not when he treated you like a stranger.

“We were about to leave, but then I saw your actions,” you say, quite monotonously, your calmness as disturbing as it is triumphant. You yourself even wonder at it. “What the fuck was that?” 

A smirk. “Glad to know I still have some kind of effect on you.” 

You scrunch up your brows, distaste once again pooling in your mouth. “Trust me, I would’ve done this with anyone I know. You’re not special.” 

His smirk widens. “So, you’re not jealous?” He rubs the side of his jaw, staring at you, intently, and disgust comes over you like a splash of a wave, soaking you in cold sweat. 

He did it for that very reason—to make you jealous. Walked right past you, just to get a rise out of you. As much as you loved him half an hour ago, that affection turns into dust within you, sprinkling the fruit trees and the berry brushes with its gray smithereens, poisoning them. 

Ouroboros, all over again. Full circle. Anger covers your disgust. 

A voice echoes within the room. Airy and light, as feminine as it is otherworldly, and you know, without a doubt, who it belongs to. It doesn’t suit her, not in the slightest. 

“There you are,” your ex-boyfriend’s companion trails off, the clapping of her flat shoes halting. “Who are you?” 

You only turn your head to the side, signaling to her that you’ve heard her question, because you fix your stare back at Jungkook as you answer it. “It’s not something you should trouble yourself with. Can you give us a minute?” 

You don’t hear any movement, so she must be stubbornly staying where she is. All right, she can join the conversation for all you care. 

When you turn your head back around, you catch stars oozing from Jungkook’s eyes, a conveyance of adornment painting his face in gentle colors that could never be associated with this room. There it is, the face you know, so resplendent of the one you last saw. And it grazes your anger, whispers to it that it was a mistake, a game of pretense, because you’re reverently acknowledged with his soul—you know who he is. While it may explain his fucked-up behavior, you don’t soften. Not at the hint of familiarity. Not even at the hushed hint of your deduction telling you that the reason why he unmasked himself was because you chose him and didn’t run away when his companion spoiled your short time together. 

You don’t soften because you simply don’t want to. 

You don’t want to give in to any means of getting close to him. 

The chapter is finished. You shouldn’t have called him. You should’ve left with Hobi. 

You don’t wish to keep him waiting long, nor do you wish to keep sprawling in your mistake. You pivot, ready to leave, but Jungkook captures your hand. Desirousness palpitates in his eyes as if he, too, needed to tell you something of urgency. 

You’ll hear him out, but that’s the end of it. 

“Can I see you later?” he asks, pupils growing in size until they absorb his chocolate irises, his grip over your hand tight and heated. A wind blows in your orchard, sweeping away all the darkened smithereens left by the bane, freshening you up. 

You don’t really think that’s a good idea. 

“I won’t have time for you later, I’ll be with Hoseok.” 

To Hobi, you won’t lie, but the same can’t be applied to Jungkook. 

His breath hitches in his throat, disappointment weighing him down, the thought of you being intimate with someone who is not him causing his posture to slouch even more. 

But he surprises you with the words he says next. 

“I’ll wait, then. Let me know when you’re alone.” 

And you surprise yourself even more when you nod, turning on your heel and scurrying off to meet Hobi outside. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

[perfectlyoongi]

PRE-BOYFRIEND!HOSEOK who likes to take you on picnics under the full moon. at once a month Hoseok would look for you at your house with a blanket in his car and a basket in his hand; the smile he wore was more inviting than his words, the happiness on his face making it difficult for you to refuse. “i found a new park with a small lake. i immediately thought of you and our picnics. what do you say? just me, you, and the moon once again.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!HOSEOK who invites you to his dance practice every time he masters a new choreography. a mix of nervousness and pride coursing through Hoseok's body when he sees you sitting on the floor, the music commanding his steps while he always looked at your reactions. “it’s a new choreography i learned. i would like you to see and give your opinion. it’s important to me, you know?”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!HOSEOK who remembers you whenever he passes by flowers and always tries to bring you a bouquet of them. wild flowers or a florist always caught Hoseok's attention, and among so many colors and smells, the unique beauty of flowers only appeared in Hoseok's mind as your image. “i don’t know what color you like best, but these yellow ones reminded me of the joy you bring to my life. i hope you like it.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!HOSEOK who doesn't mind spending hours talking to you via text, even when the night is coming to an end. Hoseok just felt comfortable, snuggled in his bed as he read and laughed at your words so simple, so unique. “just a little more, please. i swear i can spend the rest of the day just moved by your words. you bring magic with you.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!HOSEOK who always looked at you when there was a chance of laughter, eager to see you beautified by happiness. he might not even be the one causing your laugh, but Hoseok couldn't stop looking for you, always wanting to see how beautiful you could be. “happiness looks good on you. it's as if it were made especially to adorn your features. you look simply beautiful.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!HOSEOK who commented on every photo, every video of yours, never making you forget how magnificent you really were. no matter the quality of the image, or its seriousness, Hoseok was always ready to praise you, sharing with you a little of his fascination with you. “don’t be silly, you look breathtaking. i can clearly see the stardust that sculpted you and made you the most beautiful being in this universe.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!HOSEOK who didn't even notice it was love, so genuine was the feeling he felt for you. from an early time he felt complete with you, never questioning how good your presence did to him; Hoseok simply felt real with you, he felt genuine — was that love? “don’t leave. wait a little longer. let my heart feel complete once again and then you can go, i promise.”

[katnisspeetaprim]

Broad Day Light

Min Yoongi/Reader

Im so sorry if this is bad. i haven't had time to properly edit this. I've been sick again recently, but I wanted to get at least something out for you guys!

Warnings: Injury, crowds, anxiety, established relationship, idol!au

Word Count: 1203 M.list

Walking down a busy street in the middle of the day shouldn’t have been an anxiety inducing task, but here you are. That’s all it’s felt like these days.

You and Yoongi went public a few years ago and paparazzi and sasaeng’s had mostly started to leave you alone after a few months, just the odd personal space invader here and there, but you learnt to live with the new found attention.

Fast forwards to 2023 and Yoongi’s solo tour was well under way. With a world tour came massive media attention, and with media attention, came paparazzi.

You weren’t famous, so having people run up to you with cameras was a surreal experience.

You tried your best to shield your face, but it was to no avail as the group of photographers bolted towards you from across the road.

‘Y/N! Over here!’

‘Are you going to any of the shows!?’

The group of men had effectively blocked your path, not allowing you to leave.

‘Please let me through. I have somewhere to be...’ You mumbled and wrapped your arms round yourself as you kept your head down and away from the cameras. You started forcing your way forwards.

‘Y/N! Yoongi and Halsey have been acting close! Did something happen between them!? Is that why you aren’t on tour with him?’ You know you shouldn’t dignify these people with a response, but the gall of implying that Yoongi would cheat on you with someone that had become a good friend to the both of you... It was enough to make you rage.

‘Of course not! They are good friends, now let me through- Ah!’ As you forcefully pushed your way through the crowd, you didn’t realise how close you were to the curb.  Your ankle rolled, causing you to topple over into the road.

Your hands, arms and knees were all scratched up, along with a twisted ankle. At least no cars were coming so you wouldn’t get run over. Though that seemed like a more preferable situation than the one you were currently in.

‘AH!’ You shakily sat up and grabbed your ankle, causing you to hiss out in pain.

‘Please just leave me alone!’ You screamed out and swiped out at the paparazzi circling round you.

‘Hey that’s assault! She just tried to hit me!’ One of the men shouted out, trying to garner sympathy with his fellow low lives.

You were all but breaking down into a full blown panic attack, when all of a sudden you felt a wave of hope flow through you when you heard the shouts of police officers approaching the scene.

‘Hey! What’s going on here? Out of the way!’ They pushed through the crowd and one knelt next to you, whilst the other two pushed back the group, ultimately threatening arrests if they didn’t dispurse.

‘Miss? Are you ok? Are you hurt?’

‘My ankle- I think it’s twisted!’ You whimpered, trying to hold back your tears.

‘Don’t worry. We’ll get you to the hospital.’

Hours later and you were finally able to go home. With a lot of help from your best friend, you were now sat in your living room, feeling sorry for yourself with your poor ankle all wrapped up.

The scraped that littered your limbs weren’t too bad, just a little sore. Stories had hit the web pretty much immediately, along with plenty of videos of the incident, filmed by multiple people.

With any luck, Yoongi would be too busy to even think about going online...

-Incoming video call from Yoongles-

Ah well. There goes that idea.

After a slight hesitation, you pushed the green answer button.

Yoongi suddenly appeared on screen. He’d clearly changed out of his concert gear and was now clad in comfy sweat pants and a jumper.

And he looked pissed.

‘Hey Yoongi...’ You trailed off, trying to sound normal.

‘Seriously? You going to pretend nothing happened?’ He stared at you in disbelief.

‘You should have called me when it happened!’ He continued on, raising his voice ever slightly.

You looked away from the screen, feeling guilty that you tried to keep it from him. Of course he would see the articles, so it was pointless to even try.

‘I’m sorry...’

Yoongi  took in your defeated appearance and groaned internally for adding more upset to your already stressful day.

‘No, I’m sorry for shouting. When I saw what happened, I just got so angry.’ He paused for a moment before shaking his head. ‘You got hurt because of me...’

‘Yoongi no!’ You sat up straighter, trying to reassure him. ‘This isn’t your fault. At all!’

He nodded slowly, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t believe you.

‘I’m going to send you the number for one of our bodyguards. If you need to go somewhere, get him to drive you.

Yoongi suddenly moved the phone in his hands. He was clearly texting you.

You couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend.

‘Yoongi! I’m sure they have better things to do than look after me!’ His message however, had already pinged on your phone.

‘You got attacked in broad daylight Y/N. Seems pretty serious to me.’ Yoongi deadpanned as he stared you right in the eyes.

The smile fell from your face. You couldn’t argue with the fact that you would feel a lot safer with someone escorting you...

‘I won’t be going anywhere for a while. My ankle is all screwed up.’ You joked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

You didn’t get to see Yoongi often these days, given how in demand he was. The last thing you wanted to do with your precious time together was be miserable.

Yoongi smirked mischievously.

‘Maybe you’ll stay out of trouble then.’ You drew back in mock offense.

‘Excuse me!?’ Where has the compassion gone to?’

‘I’m sure you’ll survive.’ He said, trying to hold back his smirk.

You couldn’t hold back and began to laugh for the first time that day.

‘I wish I could be there for you’ Yoongi suddenly spoke over your laughter. You immediately went quiet, knowing that Yoongi was still upset by the days events.

‘It’s ok. This is enough, for now.’ You smiled gently and gestured towards the phone screen separating the two of you.

‘Remind me again why you couldn’t come with me?’ Yoongi groaned and slumped back in his chair.

‘You know why. I couldn’t get off work.’ You giggled as you also snuggled down into your chair.

He frowned before once again beginning to type on his phone.

‘What’s wrong?’ You enquired curiously.

‘I’m not there, but Tae will be close by tomorrow. I’m sending him to check on you.’

‘Oh my god!’ You exclaimed with a laugh. ‘I can’t convince you I’m fine can I?’

‘Definitely not.’

You and Yoongi spent a long time on call together that night, making the most of every moment.

It was only after ending the call for the night, did you notice Taehyung had sent you a message.

Hey noona! Hope you are ready for a home spa day tomorrow!

P.S, Please tell Yoongi-hyung I made you happy... He’ll kill me if I fail!

[taeandpuppies]

What your cameraroll looks like if you're dating Jung Hoseok

[jjkwyd]

bts reacts! you try to make them jealous

ღ requested: ooo maybe do a reaction where you try to make the members jealous

ღ network: ——

ღ genre: fluff/angst

ღ links:  request away | m.list | request rules

➳seokjin

he immediately knew what you were doing. you were failing miserably at trying to flirt with the waiter. he held himself together as he watched you, letting you embarrass yourself. when the waiter left and walked to go place your order, he raised his eyebrow at you. “what was that?” he asked in a sweet tone. “whyyy are you jealous?” you smiled innocently as he couldn’t help but laugh. “jealous? i thought that was entertaining,” he smiled innocently as your jaw dropped. “funny?!” you sounded offended as he nodded. “it was a good try,”

➳yoongi

he watched you as you talked with the security guard that was by the door of his building. he couldn’t help but stare with daggers as you pushed the guards shoulder at his joke. yoongi grabbed your hand and pulled you inside quickly. “hey,” you whined as he looked at you. “what the hell was that?” his voice was a bit cold as you looked at him innocently. “what do you mean?” you pressed your lips together to keep yourself from smiling as he looked at you, realizing you were messing with him. “oh… that’s really funny,” he rolled his eyes a bit before walking off as you started to laugh.

➳hoseok

he watched you, his smile faded into a frown as you talked with the barista at the cafe you usually visited before work. you didn’t really think about flirting with him until you noticed hoseok. that’s when you decided to mess around with him. “byeee, i’ll see you tomorrow? when do you work?” you asked innocently then walked out with hoseok as he looked at you. “why do you talk to him like that?” hoseok immediately said when the door closed behind you. “what do you mean?” you took a sip of your latte as he sighed. “ill see you tomorrow,” he quoted you as you nodded. “im always here anyways,” hoseok sighed. “yah, don’t flirt with people like that, okay?” he missed the idea that you were just messing around with him.

➳namjoon

his jaw clenched as he watched you talking with jungkook. immediately getting jealous with the idea of you flirting with a different man. it took him a moment then realized you were doing it to get a rise out of him. he sat down and watched everything unfold. smiling to himself at how awkward you looked because you were already expecting him to be with you and ask what was happening. he watched as the painful conversation ended and you walked over. “what was that about?” he smiled softly as you thought. “oh i was asking about his piercing, i told him it looked nice,” he nodded then smiled at you. “flirting is not for you at all,” you blushed as you realized he caught on to what you were doing.

➳jimin

he watched as he saw you talking with his choreographer. his eyes shooting daggers between the two of you, he never invited you to watch his practice before but he was sure this would be the last time. you noticed him staring at you a while ago and decided to play with your hair as you talked about jimin to his own choreographer. “y/n!” jimin called out, faking the sweetness in his voice as you walked over. “yes…?” he held your wrist a little tight. “how about you go home? get some rest.” “why is that?” you questioned. “i don’t appreciate you flirting in front of my eyes. so…go. home.” you stifled a laugh. “what’s so funny?” he looked dumbfounded then realized. “you were messing with me…” he fake laughed, trying to pretend like he was in on the joke.

➳taehyung

he smiled at you as you both were painting in the class he paid for you to do. the teacher came around and complimented your progress, you smiled to yourself and got the idea to joke around and make taehyung jealous. “well i have an amazing teacher,” you complimented them as tae listened closely, figuring out what was going on. you threw a few more compliments the teachers way and taehyung cut you off. “hey, does this look right?” he innocently asked the teacher as he looked at his painting and complimented him then finished his rounds of looking at everyone’s work. “well i have an amazing teacher,” taehyung mumbled as he was mocking you a bit. “what? i’m not supposed to say something nice?” you looked at him with innocent eyes. “well, not when it’s flirting. jeez y/n” you giggled as he stared at you dumbfounded then realized and nodded a bit. “you were actually just being nice… not flirting….” you kissed his cheek and smiled. “bingo”

➳jungkook

he watched as you talked with his gym instructor, leaning up against one of the machines, playing with your hair and laughing at their jokes as jungkook watched you closely. he didn’t hear what you were saying and he cleared his throat, not wanting to say something about you talking to his instructor in front of them. “hey! i gotta go home… my stomach is messed up” he came up with an excuse as you looked over. “it is?” he nodded to your question as you said bye to his instructor. as soon as you were out of there jungkook looked at you. “what was that?” he looked a bit hurt as you looked at him. “just a conversation,” he shook his head. “a flirty one,” he still looked a little upset as you felt bad and kissed his cheek. “i was just messing with you,” he looked at you a little funny. “promise?” you nodded. “i promise, you’re like a million times hotter”

[minniedaisies]

in your arms baby

— summary: anon request; ot7 and their favorite way to cuddle.

— pairing: bts x reader 

— genre: headcanons, fluff

— word count:  4861

— warnings: none

—SEOKJIN

-ˋˏ ღ - Jin is an affectionate cuddler.  He loves holding you in his arms, running his fingers through your hair, gently scratching blunt nails along your scalp, drawing shapes across your bare shoulder.  He’s a tactile cuddler, he loves to run his fingers across the planes of your skin, memorizing every freckle and scar, and pressing kisses in their wake.  He’s feather soft, and oh so gentle in his touches; not wanting to wake you if you’re asleep.  And when you’ve had a hard day at work or school, it’s his bed you fall into, seeking out his softness and the promises he presses into your skin of better days to come.

—YOONGI

-ˋˏ ღ - Yoongi’s cuddles vary with the mood.  Some nights he knows you need that firm hug, that envelopes you in tightness and protection.  Cuddles that remind you with every touch and press of skin that you are protected and loved.  Some nights, they’re more playful, explorative and teasing, ticklish fingers against skin.  Some nights it’s banter, and soft insults said with funny faces to instigate a pillow fight (which he always wins) before pressing you back into the mattress for kisses as soft and as sweet as honey.  He knows you like the back of his hand, and knows exactly what you need in that moment for every mood.  His arms feel like protection, and you always know that in them, you are nothing but safe and loved.

—HOSEOK

-ˋˏ ღ - Hoseok flings himself against you; loves to wrap you in his arms and to be wrapped in yours.  He’s all kisses pressed to cheeks and foreheads and soft fingers against skin, rubbing your back as you drift off to sleep feeling nothing but pure love and affection.  Hobi loves having you close to him, feels the best when you’re in his arms where he knows you belong.  His favorite thing in the entire world is to wake you up in the morning with kisses peppered across your cheeks.  Hobi’s cuddles are like sunshine and spring days and warmth. 

—NAMJOON

-ˋˏ ღ - Similarly to Yoongi, Namjoon’s cuddles are filled with protection and love.  You feel nothing but safeness in his arms.  He loves to wrap around you and press you against his chest so that you can fall asleep to your favorite lullaby; his heartbeat.  Namjoon’s arms are warm and safe and feel so very much like “home.”  After a hard day, you know he’ll hold you and make you feel as though everything will be okay.  And you know they will be; maybe not tomorrow, or the next day; but they will be.  He presses the promise to your skin in the form of a kiss, and you relax under his arms, knowing you’re safe and loved.

—JIMIN

-ˋˏ ღ - Jimin ADORES cuddles.  He was made to cuddle and be cuddled.  He loves to have you tucked at his side as he reads a webtoon on his phone or plays games until the early morning dawns.  He may or may not have a problem with only eventually falling asleep after the sun rises, but he treasures the nights he spends with you in his arms.  He loves when you come into his room and hop into bed with him, snuggling against his side or pressing kisses to his cheeks.  He holds you in his arms, poking your cheek where he knows a dimple is tucked away.  You adore this time with him, the stillness of laying in his arms as he reads, kissing your cheek every once in awhile with a soft smile. 

—TAEHYUNG

-ˋˏ ღ - Taehyung is a clingy cuddler; he loves having you in his arms, but he loves to be held just as much too. He often will come in as you're reading in bed, tucking into your side and nuzzling into your neck in peak puppydog form. You ruffle his hair and giggle, gently tugging on the soft brown strands to lift him from the crook of your neck so you can press a kiss to his lips. His favorite thing is to come in after his showers, smelling of fresh rain and his favorite cologne, to press against your side and be held in your arms after a long day. He'll sigh softly, looking up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, knowing there's no place he'd rather be than here with you.

—JUNGKOOK

-ˋˏ ღ - Jungkook is the baby; and thrives on cuddles. No one can deny him anything ever, and that includes his desire to be cuddled and held at pretty much every moment. Even Yoongi who sometimes pretends that cuddles are an imposition, will happily pull Jungkook onto his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him close. You adore the times you get to cuddle Jungkook too; leaving kisses on each of the freckles upon his cheek; the deep scar that, in these quiet moments like this, actually isn't covered in concealer. You want to kiss every detail, imprint your love against his skin. For now though, you're content in the stillness to just scratch at the nape of his neck, along his scalp, as he nuzzles closer. "You're such a puppy," you say with the utmost fondness in your voice. Jungkook snuggles closer, he doesn't even try to deny it.