#each chapter is probably gonna be half the length of a support group fic chapter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ve1vetyoongi · 4 years

Text

Operation: Love Letters | 03

💌 CHAPTER INDEX 💌

♡ ⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader.

♡ ⇢ chapter word count: 7.5k

♡ ⇢ genre: mystery, college!au, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

♡ ⇢ warnings: none.

♡ ⇢ summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

♡ ⇢ schedule: updated every day at 5pm GMT in the run up to Valentine’s Day 2020!

♡ ⇢ A/N: i’m not saying this chapter is based on something that may or may not have happened to me but...alcohol and i are no longer friends (even if it produces fantastic fic inspo LMAO). thanks for all the support on the series so far loves, hope you like chapter 3!!! <3

"I can't believe you're coming to a party Y/N! We're gonna have so much fun! Just wait until you see how fast I can chug a keg without throwing up—"

"We're not going to this party to have fun Jimin, we're undercover." Your fingers tap nervously against the steering wheel as you pull into a darkened parking lot, rolling your eyes at the high pitched whine that leaves your best friend in the passenger seat. "My secret admirer is probably inside this very party and our goal for tonight is to uncover him once and for all."

"So no alcohol?" Jimin pouts from beneath the beret perched on top of his pristinely styled hair, far too dressy for a scummy frat party.

"No alcohol."

"Okay but that doesn't explain why I'm being dragged along to this stupid thing." Yoongi's gruff voice sounds from the back as he braces himself on the front seats to butt his head into the conversation. "I should've known it was a trick when you told me we were going to get lamb skewers, your treat."

Yoongi's grumpy eyes catch yours in the rear view mirror as he slumps back into his seat with a huff. "Dude, it was the only way to get you to agree to come and we need you here so you can get us inside the party." You place an elbow on the headrest and lean in to face him, lowering your voice to a hush. "You know the password, right?"

Kim Seokjin's party's are renowned on campus for being some of the wildest and, most importantly, most exclusive events in town. Everyone within a 50 mile radius has heard the stories and the rumours about the strippers and the hookups and the alcohol — but only the most popular and elite kids could get in and see the events unfold for themselves. The key? A password, set by Seokjin himself, and right now, the single barrier between you and your potential secret admirer.

Luckily for you, your roomate just so happened to be best friends with the vice-president of Kappa Tau — Kim Taehyung — and he had a fair share of his own party stories, so you figured if anybody would be able to get you inside it had to be Yoongi.

Even beneath the shadows cascading over his face in the backseat, you see Yoongi's eyes light up. "And if I do know the password, why would I tell you?"

"Because I'm the best roommate you've ever had?" You try to blink at him in a cutesy way but being sweet was never your strong point and your features harden when Yoongi raises an eyebrow, amused by the ridiculous way you clasp your hands pleadingly. "Because I'll tell everyone about the time you got drunk and puked all over your Biology notes so you paid Kim Jongin to sit the test for you—"

"Okay, okay fine!" Yoongi grumbles, slipping out of his seatbelt and hopping out of the car with a nervous roll of his eyes. "I'll get you in. But you owe me for this, you hear me?"

A satisfied smile finds your lips as you scurry out into the night after him and Jimin practically skips to your side, linking his arm around your elbow and pulling you excitedly towards the dorm up ahead that appears to pulsate with life, the pumping bass of whatever song is playing vibrating through the soles of your high heels, causing you to sway a little as you adjust to the tempo of it.

Multicoloured lights that glow red, green and blue are strung up between the branches of the trees lining the sidewalk outside and they are the only light source surrounding the grassy lawn that inhabits a group of people dancing and drinking together outside. Despite the early state of the night, the dorm steps are already littered with a few wasted, crying girls and ragged boys lighting cigarettes as they offer them a bed to sleep in.

You shudder. Gross.

Yoongi leads you around to a back door that has been propped open haphazardly with a couple empty liquor bottles. Stood beside it are a pair of buff frat boys, too busy spraying each other with beer to guard the doors from unexpected guests, but they both straighten up and plaster feeble smiles to their faces when Yoongi coughs impatiently behind them. You suppose your roommates reputation of being...less than friendly comes in handy sometimes, huh?

"Uh, hey Yoongi." The taller one says sheepishly. "D-do you got the password—"

"Of course I do, doofus." Yoongi has to stand on his tip toes to reach the guys ear to whisper the password and you snicker, something about seeing a giant frat dude reduced to a puddle of fear when faced with your rough around the edges roommate hilarious.

The guy looks positively terrified when Yoongi leans back smugly, sending a wink in your direction that says I've got this under control and gestures for you and Jimin to enter the party, before an arm shoots out and stops you entirely. "Actually, I can't let you inside."

"What? Why?" You can't hold back your laughter now, Yoongi's face flushing a deep red as the two guys block the doorframe entirely. "I gave you the password!"

"The old password." The other dude corrects. "Sorry, but it's invalid."

"Hey, listen here moron, I'm buddies with the vice-president of Kappa and he's gonna totally kick your asses when he hears about this—"

"Yoongi? Is that you?" The two bouncers are pushed aside by a lean man with blue hair who immediately launches himself at your roommate and tackles him onto the ground in a flurry of red converse. "I never thought I'd see the day where tough guy Min Yoongi turns up to a frat party!"

Yoongi prises himself out of headlock, rubbing the back of his head and holding the blue haired man at arms length. "Nice to see you too, Taehyung." He grumbles as he's pulled to his feet, wiping grass from his black hoodie.

"Ah, so this is Taehyung?" Jimin mumbles into your ear. "You never told me he was this cute!"

"And Yoongi never told me that he had hot friends he's been hiding from me all these years." Blue hair turns and offers you and Jimin his hand, your best friend melting at his touch from behind his thick rimmed glasses. "Taehyung. Nice to meet you. Now what are you guys doing outside without any drinks?"

Bingo! Looks like you just found your ticket inside.

"Yoongi here forgot the password," You shout over the blaring music to Taehyung. "So it looks like we're just gonna have to go home. And my friend here hasn't even had one drink yet..."

You push Jimin forward with all your might, struggling not to laugh when you see how Taehyung's tipsy eyes look him up and down before they soften at the edges and he flashes him an award winning smile that has your best friends panties practically dropping.

"Well I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I just got you guys a couple drinks right? Follow me!"

With that Taehyung grabs Jimin by the elbow and pulls him behind into the dark mouth of the party and you turn to Yoongi with a sly smirk. "Looks like we didn't need you after all, Mr Min Yoongi tough guy."

Yoongi trails behind you with a pout. "Shut up. Let's just get this over with."

Bodies are pressed together like sardines in a can, pushing and gyrating against one another in time with the rhythm of the house music that is headache inducing when you get inside.

"So this is what a frat party is like?" You murmur.

Yoongi goes first, reaching behind to grasp your clammy hand and pull you forwards from the pond into the ocean. You blink, trying to make yourself as small as possible to fit through the small space Yoongi clears before you get swallowed up by the crowd. The air in here is thicker than outside and body heat radiates from the walls and just as you start to feel claustrophobic, the crowd spits you out into a kitchen.

It's only then that you register the state of the house — the kitchen is a mess. The counters are covered in half empty pizza boxes, the contents of which had somehow ended up on the walls, empty cups litter the floor and a bottle, still half full, rolls across the tile past your feet. And to make matters worse, you are pretty sure there's vomit in the sink, the sour stench mixing with the musty aroma of cheap beer.

Yup. The stories were true. Kim Seokjin sure knew how to throw a house party, huh?

Yoongi eyes you curiously. "You say that as if this is your first party." Your expression remains serious and he chokes. "Oh god. Don't tell me this is your first party, Y/N?"

You shrug. "This is my first party."

Yoongi slaps a palm to his forehead. "Fuck. You like throwing yourself in the deep end huh?"

"What do you mean?" You suddenly feel nervous, glancing around at the hoards of drunken twenty-somethings stumbling around the living room singing bad karaoke or the couples in the corner making out or the other girls on the makeshift dance floor who don't stick out like a sore thumb in the same way you do.

You wipe your palms on the black sequined crop top adorning your torso. Before you had left, you had looked in the mirror at your reflection and felt confident. Jimin had turned into a child with a Barbie doll when given the task of finding you an outfit, practically ripping everything out of your neatly organised closet and throwing indistinguishable garments at you in a frenzy. You must have tried on at least 12 different outfits before he found the "perfect" thing for you to wear.

You had to admit, the strappy top hugged your figure nicely and the sequins glittered in the light each time you moved, giving you a kind of ethereal glow. You had even spent longer than usual on your makeup, ensuring your eyes were flawlessly smoked out and the dab of deep red lip tint enhanced your lips just enough, making your face look pouty but in a way that was intentional and possibly even alluring if you squinted.

However, now as you stand paralyzed surrounded by drunk twenty somethings in a strangers kitchen your top feels suffocating, your makeup looks splotchy in places and your lips seem excessive. You strain your neck to see your reflection in the microwave, swiping your thumb across your lips to remove some of the pigment, smudging a little onto your chin and leaving you with a single, red fingertip.

"Shit. I really wasn't prepared for this huh?"

“You look fine.” Yoongi says when he notices you hugging your torso. “Nice. You look nice.”

It's only then that you realise Yoongi's hand is still wrapped around your own, as he squeezes it reassuringly and pulls you over to a quiet corner in the kitchen, awkwardly shifting and shoving his sticky hand into his pocket when he sees the funny look you send him.

"Look, Kim Seokjin's party's are not for novices. So we're gonna have to set some ground rules if you're gonna survive the night, okay?" You nod and Yoongi places his hands on your shoulders. "Rule number one, never take a drink from a stranger. Two, if someone asks you to play spin the bottle, run. Three, if the bathroom door is shut don't open it. And four, always stay close to me or Jimin, okay?"

"Jeez, okay dad." You chuckle sheepishly. "I'll be careful. I'm just here to get answers, remember?"

Yoongi eyes you carefully. "Fine. But promise you'll follow the rules—"

"Hey Y/N! I got you a drink!" Jimin bounds over to you like a Labrador puppy, thrusting a red solo cup into your hand with an elated grin. "Come on, drink up! We have a secret admirer to find!"

You see how Yoongi narrows his eyes as you lift the cup to your lips. "What? You said no drinks from strangers." In a few gulps you down the murky liquid in your cup, eyes stinging at the burn in your chest as you wipe the back of your mouth triumphantly when it earns cheers from a crowd nearby. "Let the night begin!"

"So..." Yoongi starts. "Can we leave yet?"

Almost everyone has filtered back onto the dance floor by now, leaving you and Yoongi alone on the far side of the kitchen apart from Jimin, who is busy trying to fit a whole slice of pizza in his mouth.

You lean back against the fridge as you swing your lame solo cup from your hand like it's an expensive crystal wine glass. You've been here for nearly three hours, just waiting for something to happen. Anything. A sign or something, like your secret admirer was just going to emerge from the crowd followed by a heavenly glow and a bouquet and you were going to live happily ever after.

But instead you seem to be the only near enough sober person in the building, inspecting your chipped nails for the nth time that night while Yoongi let's out intermittent bored sighs and questions how much longer until you throw in the towel and give up for good.

"Not yet," You say determinedly, eyes trained to the front door, like you're waiting for it to open. "We still have the whole night left to search."

Yoongi rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to say something but is quickly interrupted by Jimin who is looking a little green in the face. "Uh guys, I don't feel so good..."

"Woah!" Yoongi staggers up, arm shooting out the catch Jimin before he stumbles over his own feet. "You good, man?"

"I think..." Jimin brings a hand to his mouth, eyes suddenly panicked. "I think I'm gonna puke!"

Yoongi flashes you a concerned look. "Stay right here okay? I'll take him to the bathroom and be right back — come on, kid."

With that Yoongi hauls Jimin over his shoulder and disappears into the dark mouth of the party, Jimin's cries of not on my leather pants! ringing through the house.

You shake your head with a groan. Great. Now not only are you the weird sober girl at the frat party, you are alone.

Fuck it. If you were going to get through the rest of this night you might as well enjoy it right?

You slam your solo cup down on the bench, ripping the cap off a fresh vodka bottle and pour the liquid with shaky hands into your cup until it covers the red lipstick stain your lips have made on the rim. Raising the cup to your lips. you chug the contents in one go, wincing as the foul liquid burns a path through your body.

"Someone's eager!" A chirpy voice sounds from beside you. A hand comes out to grab the vodka bottle from your hand and you quickly recognise it to belong to none other than Kim Seokjin, who fills his own cup half way. "Having a good night, sweetheart?"

You are rendered speechless. A grey, silk, button up shirt hangs from his broad frame, spilling over the edges of his tight black jeans. You've never seen him in person before this moment but you see why he once got approached by a modelling agency on campus last semester — because this guy is next level hot. Like sex on legs hot. And it takes everything inside you to stop the way your knees wobble when his eyes look you up and down and focus on your mission.

Seokjin runs a hand through his bleached hair, pushing the strands upwards and away from his face as he slumps against the wall next to you, crossing his legs and taking a long swig from his cup, grimacing at the taste and earning a sympathetic grin from you.

"Eager to get drunk so I forget I'm here." You reply with a roll of your eyes, copying his movements and sipping on your own drink.

Seokjin eyes you curiously. Like he's intrigued by your less than enthusiastic response to seeing him. I mean, he did look like that after all. Most girls probably dropped their panties as soon as he entered the room. But not you. No. You were here for a reason.

"I haven't seen you around here before."

"Yeah. That's probably because I don't usually come to these things." You lean in closer, like you're letting him in on a secret. "Not usually my scene."

Seokjin nods, suddenly struck by a thought. "Then let's get drunk together!" He grabs your arm, bringing your solo cups together and creating a clink clink sound with his tongue, resulting in some of your drink sloshing over onto your jeans. "I bet I can change your mind about party's once you see how Kim Seokjin does it."

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about something first—" You retrieve the note, holding it out to him when his index finger presses against your lips and he lets out a shhh.

"Questions later. For now, you gotta try my famous concoction."

"Concoction?" You raise an eyebrow as Seokjin rips open a cupboard door and starts pouring a mixture of spirits into two cups. Just the sight of it makes your stomach churn but you tell yourself that this might be exactly what Seokjin needs to open up to you about the letter. Perhaps he'd be more loose lipped once tipsy?

Looks like you're about to find out. Seokjin thrusts one of the cups towards you.

"This will change your life. Trust me."

Rule number two. Never accept drinks from a stranger.

But Seokjin wasn't a stranger, technically, right? And besides, Yoongi himself had already broken rule number four by leaving you alone in the kitchen, so what would the harm be if you made things even in the name of Operation Love Letters?

"Sure." You say finally, taking the cup from his grasp and throwing the entire contents down your throat. "In the name of Operation Love Letters"

Soon enough, it is becoming difficult to remember exactly how many drinks you have drank already, but part of you doesn't care because you are finally starting to feel free.

It's clear that Seokjin feels similarly as his earlier giggles have turned into full on chortles, as everything you say seems to be of comedic value to him, able to practically send him rolling on the ground every time you speak.

You find yourself laughing along, cheering when he pours you another round. The bright, flashing disco lights from the lounge creep into the kitchen, bouncing off Seokjin's sharp features and the intensity of them hurts your eyes so you close them for a moment, shutting the party out completely and retreating inside your brain, which is slow and the calmest it has been since you got here. The sound of someone violently throwing up echoes in your ears, though you can't tell if it's coming from the garden or from the living room. It doesn't matter anyway.

Suddenly, you feel a pair of lips against your ear, words tumbling from them too quickly for you to pick them apart in your drunken state the first time, simply hearing a string of mumbles and murmurs. A giggle escapes your throat as you open your eyes, met with Seokjin's face meters from yours, mouthing something.

"I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be back!"

You feel yourself mouthing something back, but you have already forgotten what, lowering your head to rest it on top of your outstretched arm. Your eyes are blurry, barely able to focus on the crumpled beer cans that litter the counter a few inches from your nose. The music and sounds around you began to mould into one overwhelming hum that you can feel vibrating in every nerve ending and then—

A hand lands on your back. You twist under its grip, a woozy smile forming.

"Seokjin, you're back!" The exclamation leaves your mouth before you can see the owner of the hand which is still planted firmly between your shoulder blades, drawing small circles there. "Now...I gotta ask you something, hm? I got this note, and I think you know who sent it to me." Your shaky gaze focuses, realisation slightly delayed because of your drunken state, but you are able to slowly take in the face of someone who was very much not Seokjin standing over you as you hold out the letter.

This person has a head of black hair falling across a pair of steely eyes that burn into you hotly. The hand suddenly feels fiery and wrong against your back and you stumble to your feet in order to shake it off, knocking your metal bar stool to the ground in the process.

Rule number four: never be alone.

"Why're you out here all by yourself beautiful?" The guy slurs, staggering closer to you. His foul breath fans your face as he speaks. "Wanna come with me?" He drops his hands to grip your hips. Your arms are pressed between his chest and your own and you struggle to get them free so you can push him. Hit him. Punch him. Anything. You need to be away right now.

"She doesn't want to come with you, man."

"Hah, shhh bro, she wants to come with me, don't you beautiful?"

Your eyes are shut right but you feel his body get suddenly ripped away from yours, allowing you to fall forward into the space in front of you and let out the shaky breath you didn't know you were holding.

Another arm comes to rest gently around your shoulders, this one comforting and kind. Before you can register it, your body is being pulled forwards, faster than your feet can move and you stumble over own heel, but a hand comes to grip you just below your armpit, steadying you and practically carrying you away from the kitchen.

"What the fuck man?" Sounds from behind you, but you are too overwhelmed to notice.

Suddenly, your weak body collides with the brisk air outside. The feeling is refreshing against your lightly damp skin and you greedily gulp it into your lungs, desperate to get rid of the stale, hot air from inside. Your body is placed into a chair, the arm unwinding from your shoulders and instead opting to tap your hand.

"You okay?" A voice questions. Your eyes open enough to vaguely register a figure on one knee in front of you, a hand patting your arm comfortingly. "Hold on. Stay here." You see a pair of feet walking away. You're not sure how long they were gone for but you recognise the pair of red converse when they reappear.

"Drink this." A red cup is thrust into your line of vision. You begin to shake you head, groaning at the thought of enduring any more alcohol.

"Mmmf'had enough." You just about murmur, limply pushing it away.

"It's water. It'll help you feel better." Something tells you to trust the voice, taking the cup from his hands.

You throw your head back and let the deliciously cold liquid run down your throat, soothing the burn that remained from the liquor. You drain the cup of every last drop and let him set it neatly on the ground next to your feet.

"Do you have a ride home?"

"Can't go home yet. Promised I wouldn't break the rules..." You mumble, as you try to stumble to your feet but your legs feel wobbly and before you can take a step forward you feel your weight topple to the right.

A hand shoots out to grab your body as it falls. You don't remember if your body hits the floor as your eyes fall shut half way down, catching a glimpse of blue hair before everything turns black.

A light radiates from the window behind your head and your tired eyes reluctantly resist the sun invading the shield of your heavy lids with its brightness. Too bright, in fact, for your hungover state.

Your legs are splayed out at an uncomfortable angle, heavy and weak as they dangle over the edge of the bed which you snuggle deeper into, desperate to escape the intense feeling of regret nestling in the pit of your empty stomach.

Lifting your head from the cushion, you try and fail to open your eyes, grogginess clouding your vision, so you opt instead to marvel at the way the soft, orange glow that infiltrates the room is warm against your skin. You drag a finger down your still bare arm and enjoy the shiver the light feeling leaves behind, a comforting contrast to the thumping hangover that is beginning to grow stronger at your temples. Your tongue is dry and fat in your mouth, rough against the soft skin of your cheek as you attempt to create some moisture to relieve the feeling.

Just as you prepare to turn over, fully intending to fall back into a deep slumber and hopefully sleep off the hangover, a piercing noise sounds a short distance away, causing you to stir.

It is as though the sound pulls your head from a pool of deep water, your ears warming up and becoming alert at the surface as the water drains away. You strain. Did you imagine it?

"La la la..."

No! There it is again, the same shrill sound but clearer this time. It seems to be drawing gradually closer, a vaguely recognisable tune fitting together like a puzzle.

"I wanna be the very best, like no one ever was,"

Singing?

"To catch them is my real test, to train them is my cause,"

You kick your legs childishly, wriggling around on the mattress until you break free from the duvet that smothers your limbs and rip the pillow from beneath your head, bringing it down roughly against your face in an attempt to block out the sound that makes your head throb.

"Jiminnnnn," you groan, extending the last syllable of his name in annoyance. He must have found his way back to your place after the party last night, probably drunk out of his mind. How was he not knocked out on the couch on the opposite side of the room, a mirror image of your current state?

Memories of the night before slowly resurface in bits and pieces. Shaky hands pouring liquid into a red cup. Jimin's laughter. Yoongi's blurry face disappearing into a crowd of people. A pair of hands pressing into your hips, nails creating crescent bruises on your damp skin, the hairs rising on your arms before you're saved by—

"I will travel across the land, searching far and wide,"

"For fucks sake, Jimin, shut the fuck up!" You practically explode, launching the cushion in your arms across the room. You hear it hit the wall, and you cover your head and brace yourself for a blow twice as hard in retaliation

One...two...three...

Nothing. Not even a groan of discomfort.

"Teach Pokémon to understand..."

Your body shoots upright. The beating in your chest quickens when your shaky vision focuses on your unfamiliar surroundings. Dark blue sheets are draped across your torso, definitely not the pink, floral set you laid out on your bed last week and this is definitely not your apartment. Adrenaline courses through your veins at this revelation, cold and unwelcoming like a slap to the wrist.

Where the fuck are you?

The temperature suddenly feels like ice, forbidding and foreign, all forms of comfort disappearing as you take in the shelves of books stacked lazily on top of one another at the foot of the bed. Papers lay in piles on the desk situated against the opposite wall, a laptop closed but still connected to the electric supply neatly placed next to them. An office chair is half heartedly tucked underneath it, a black fraternity t-shirt draped across the back.

SEOKJIN. KAPPA TAU.

You re-read those three words at least a hundred times, you are sure of it. You read them so quickly that the white letters blur together to create one hazy blob.

You are hallucinating, you tell yourself, that or you are still drunk. The shock sends you tumbling out of bed, landing with a smack against the wooden floor in a flurry of blue sheets before you manage to scramble to your feet and rush towards the tall glass cabinet that stands behind you. Your hands press up to the glass, breath creating foggy clouds in front of the rows and rows of shining trophies, medals and plaques that line each shelf of the cabinet. Each is inscribed with the same name over and over again.

KIM SEOKJIN. BEER PONG CHAMPION 2019.

KIM SEOKJIN. BEST FRATERNITY PRESIDENT AWARD.

Fuck.

You feel something vibrate against the small of your back and you attack your back pocket, causing your phone to fall to the floor in the process. It lands upright, spinning for a short while before coming to a halt.

32 missed calls 12 voicemails Yoongi: "WHERE R U?" Yoongi: "DID U GO HOME??." Yoongi: "CALL ME."

You're about to call him back when...

"The power that's inside!"

The song coming from behind the door loudly interrupts your mental crisis.

You move towards the mirror on the wall, taking in your dishevelled appearance. Licking your thumb, you rub at the black eyeliner that had transferred below your eyes and run it through the baby hairs that stick up from your scalp at all angles.

Shakily, your hand reaches for the door handle, twisting until you feel the bolt unclick from the frame. With a deep breath you push the door open a crack, allowing you to squeeze your body out into a kitchen.

"POKÉMON! GOTTA CATCH THEM ALL — holy shit!"

The song comes to an abrupt end as the vocalist squeaks with surprise at the sound of your voice.

"Kim Taehyung?"

Silence is suddenly cast across the small room, a shirtless boy stood in nothing but luminous yellow shorts that contrast his blue hair staring at you wide eyed, one leg propped up on the nearest dining table chair. His left hand grips the handle of a saucepan that now hovers mid air above an empty plate, the other pointing towards the ceiling with a black spatula.

It is clear you have interrupted a serious performance of his repertoire (that you hoped no one else had to endure in their lifetime) and despite your initial reaction being to laugh at the comedic position you find him in, you resist, instead simply mirroring the lifeless blinks he sends your way.

The smell of cooking eggs fills the room, the scent enough to make your stomach feel woozy and emphasise the burn that still lingers there from all the vodka you poured down your neck at Seokjin's party. A few seconds pass before he snaps his mouth closed and proceeds to dish up his egg, shifting to hide the blush that has risen hotly in his cheeks. Taehyung's hair is messy as though he has not long woken himself, the sides flattened where he had laid against the pillow and the top sticking up in places.

"O-oh, sorry, did I wake you?" Taehyung stutters through his teeth, clearly dealing internally with the humiliation of being caught in his tighty whities. "Seokjin didn't tell me he was going to bring anyone back last night."

"Taehyung?" You ask warily, creeping further into the kitchen on the soles of your bare feet. It is cold, provoking your toes to curl. "Seokjin brought me back here?"

"Wait, you're Yoongi's roommate right?" His words are sudden and sharper this time, shoulders relaxing as he flicks his index finger out to point at you, a warm smile spreading across his face as he blows on a spoonful of egg.

"Uh, yeah. That's me." You admit, shrugging your shoulders as he nods his head. "I'm Y/N. You met me and my friend Jimin last night." It feels strange to introduce yourself to someone after you have already slept in their home, walked in on their shirtless one man show and rudely interrupted their Sunday morning breakfast. Taehyung doesn't seem phased though, waving his fork at you and speaking through a mouthful of yolk.

"Ah so that's how you met Seokjin! He didn't tell me that you two were ya know...getting it on." You splutter at his words, rushing forwards to to grip the kitchen counter for support when his eyebrows wiggle up and down as though their movements mean to insinuate something. "I'm his roommate, if you couldn't tell."

"We weren't - we didn't - at least I don't think..."

Your confused rambles are interrupted by a deeper voice that rumbles from behind the bathroom door that opens to reveal a figure in black sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. Seokjin.

A towel covers his head, hands rubbing frantically at the wet hair beneath it. A few stray droplets land on the front of his shirt, turning it a darker shade of grey wherever they touch. He lowers the towel, twisting it so it sits comfortably around his shoulders before he leans over to pick from Taehyung's plate with a roll of his eyes in your direction.

"Taehyung, the last time we gave you vodka you tried to do a hand stand on top of the kitchen table." He gestures towards the table next to you. You notice how the leg is taped tightly back together, making the entire structure look slightly lopsided. "Trust me, Y/N, you don't wanna trust anything this guy says when he is hungover."

"Woah, man, do you have to tell everyone that?" He hisses, cocking his head towards you and drawing an imaginary line across his neck as if to tell him to cut it out. "Congrats, though man!" He adds, dropping his empty plate in the sink and moving to give Seokjin an exaggerated pat on the back. "You got laid again!"

Seokjin's eyes widen with surprise, before he turns to you with a look of panic flashing across his features.

"See? My point exactly. We didn't—"

"Did we-- ?" Your question lingers awkwardly in the air, sounding more frantic than you had intended.

"What?! No!"

"Yeah, I'm gonna leave you two kids to it." Taehyung sucks on his teeth with a clap of his hands. He turns, striding into what is presumably his bedroom, calling "I'll be in my room if you need me!" over his shoulder as he does so.

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. "Ignore him, he's just a massive nerd, really."

Seokjin shifts uncomfortably, and for the first time you see the douchey confident frat boy facade falter when he watches you fall into a dining room chair and let your head fall in your hands, silently hoping to cover the mortification present on your face.

"So you don't remember what happened at all?" Seokjin reaches into the closest kitchen cupboard, retrieving a glass that he fills with water directly from the faucet. He opens a box of pain killers and pops out two capsules.

"Nope. Zilch." You manage a feeble smile when he presses the pills into your palm. "Fill me in?"

"You were pretty fucked up last night so I thought it would be sensible to bring you upstairs," Seokjin hops up onto the counter beside you, so close that you can can almost smell his freshly applied deodorant. His leg bounces nervously. "I slept out here. Just so you know." He gestured towards the crumpled blankets that are strewn across the couch, barely covering the body shaped dent that had formed in the sunken cushions.

Raising your head, you sink lower into the chair and lift your eyes to finally meet his. His gaze is piercing, surprising you a little. He seems to notice, softening his stare. You usually find things like this uncomfortable. You were expecting a scrutinizing look, the type you were used to from guys like Kim Seokjin. But somehow Seokjin's intentions feel kind, perhaps slightly cautious but warm even so.

"Hey. Thank you. For helping last night. You didn't have to bring me here. And for saving me from that guy at the party. I'm seriously grateful. I owe you one."

"Trust me, it's all good. No debts or anything." He smiles at your rushed babble of appreciation, his hand unconsciously scratching a non-existent itch on the back of his neck. "After all, it was kinda my fault. If I'd known you were such a lightweight I wouldn't have given you that drink. Still feel kinda bad." His shoulders shrug jokingly and you can't help but snort at his words. He seems to relax at this, assured that you aren't as vulnerable as your sickly appearance suggests.

You shift in your seat and something crinkles in the back pocket of your jeans. Shit! The love letter!

"Well if you feel that bad about it, then how about you do me a little favour?"

Seokjin rolls his eyes playfully. "What type of favour, sweetheart?"

"This." You unfold the letter and slide it across the kitchen island towards him. "Do you know who could've written this?"

Seokjin's eyes widen as he scans the note, whispering the words beneath his breath as he reads. "Oh shit...this is like legit legit."

"That's what I said!" You nod eagerly. "Now does anything seem familiar to you?"

A finger stabs at the Kappa Tau logo in the corner of the page. "Well this paper definitely came from one of my guys. But it could be any one of them..."

A defeated sigh leaves you. "So you're saying you don't know who it could belong to?"

"I mean, I know it's not mine. But apart from that, it really could be anyone." He neatly folds the note and places it in your palm. "Sorry I couldn't help."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll just have to find a new lead..."

"I have an idea. Have you heard about the kissing booth the frat is organising for Valentine's Day?"

You nod. "Sure. What about it?"

"How about if you sign up, and like, set a trap for this guy. He'll think he can totally get away with kissing you. And you can catch him right in the act!"

"Huh. I guess that doesn't sound like such a bad plan..." You muse. "Maybe I could get Jimin to sign up with me..."

"Jimin is signing up for the kissing booth? I-I mean you and Jimin are signing up?" Taehyung's voice suddenly stammers as he bursts in the kitchen, thankfully dressed in far more clothing than before.

"Yeah, Seokjin just came up with this totally awesome plan to catch my secret admirer at the kissing booth—"

"When is it?" Taehyung splutters, face flushing a deep shade of red when he earns two startled looks. "I-I mean just wondering. For science."

"Anyone would think that you're her secret admirer man." Seokjin chuckles, and Taehyung just looks sheepish before he joins in half heartedly.

"Ha...that's funny. About that..." You open your mouth to pry further about why Taehyung is suddenly acting so skittish but the front door suddenly busts open and in walks Yoongi, still in his pajama shorts with a hoodie thrown over top and a hat to hide his bed hair.

He glances around the room before his eyes zero in on you, and before you can say anything he's running towards you and throwing his arms around you in a tight hug that knocks the breath straight from your lungs.

"Yoongi...can't...breathe."

"Where the fuck have you been?" Yoongi breathes amidst a sigh of relief. "I was close to filing a missing person's report. Why did you just disappear like that last night after I told you not to get lost?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" You wrap your arms around his waist and pat his back, as if to prove it. "You don't need to worry, Seokjin took care of me."

Yoongi's eyes narrow in on Seokjin sat at the breakfast bar eating a nutrients bar. "I was supposed to be taking care of you. Why did you leave with him?"

"Well good morning to you too, Yoongi." Seokjin says with a shrug of his shoulders. "Don't worry. There wasn't any funny business, I slept on the couch."

Yoongi narrows his eyes but let's you free from his grip gently. "You sure you're okay?"

"Completely."

"From now on you're staying at home where you won't get lost, no matter if you have to go on another Operation Passion Penpal mission or whatever."

"Operation Love Letters," You remind him with a punch to the shoulder. "And I promise I won't run off again without telling you first next time."

Despite the reassuring smile you flash him, Yoongi still scans your face for any sign of hesitation, his eyes softening at the edges with relief that you're not hurt. His mouth opens to say something but then he shuts it tightly again, taking a step back from you and scratching his neck with a grumble. "We should really get going. You'll be late to class."

"Shit!" You scramble to check your phone, finding a plethora of further missed calls and texts from a very worried Jimin. "You're right. I really should go..."

"Hey, I can drive you later if you want." Seokjin butts in, but Taehyung quickly shuts him down.

"Dude, chill. Just let him take this one okay?"

The room falls silent, all eyes falling on you. "Am I missing something?"

"Well, guess I'll be going then!" Taehyung avoids the question, turns on his heels and starts into a brisk walk but not before you're reaching for the strap of his backpack.

"Hey! Wait up!"

Before you can stop it, Taehyung's bag is slipping down his shoulders and falling to the ground in a flurry of books and papers that scatter all over the floor of the apartment. "Oh shit! I'm so sorry!"

Taehyung turns and just blinks at the mess, looking positively startled, and you assume it's because you just literally straight up attacked him, but when you bend to your knees and start to help him clear up, you see his eyes flit nervously to a piece of paper poking out from beneath a history textbook.

You recognise it instantly. It's written on the very same type of paper as the note in your back pocket and your heart almost skips a beat.

As if reading your mind, Taehyung's hand shoots out to grab the note at the same time as yours, and much to your dismay there's a loud rip! as the piece of paper tears down the middle, each of you holding an opposing half.

Taehyung avoids your eyes as he shoves everything back into his bag and leaves you kneeling on the kitchen floor, clutching a note littered with a familiar scrawl.

"I'll see you around." He says simply, before his head of blue hair disappears down the staircase.

"Hey wait!" Seokjin calls as you get up to follow Yoongi who is already on his way out to the car. "Let me know how the mission goes. And if you don't find the guy, feel free to crash one of my parties again anytime."

"I—okay!" You squeak, face burning hot as you rush down the stairs away from Seokjin's amused chuckle. "Thanks again!"

You grab your phone and dial up your best friends number when you're out of earshot from Seokjin. He sounds relieved to hear you're okay, quickly quieting down when you tell him that you think you have a new lead in the form of a certain blue-haired-roommate's-best-friend.

"Meet me at my place, I'll tell you everything, I promise. I've got big news about Operation Love Letters!"

349 notes · View notes