#hobi centric

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn��t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 

They lied. 

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 

The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

[whaliiwatching]

you want it? come and get it

[yersifanel]

Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Spider-Man: Spider-Verse (Sony Animated Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hobie Brown/Karl Morningdew, Hobie Brown/Miles Morales, Hobie Brown & Miles Morales Characters: Hobie Brown, Miles Morales, Karl Morningdew, Tiger Brown (Marvel), The Brown Siblings, Tombstone (Spider-Man), Rio Morales Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Hurt Hobie Brown, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aftermath of Child Abuse, Therapy, Family Feels, Angst, Protectiveness, Hobie Brown Needs a Hug, Hobie Brown-centric, POV Hobie Brown, Soft Hobie Brown, Sibling Bonding, Yes I put Hobie through the grinder but I assure you it gets better and its worth it Summary:

It had been a couple months since the funeral, and with it came the closure all of them needed after years of searching. They knew for sure; their mother didn't abandon them. Didn't abandon him.

Hobie should be fine. But he wasn’t.

It was unfair how Tiger Brown kept messing with his life even after being pushed away from it.

Or: A story about Hobie Brown of Earth-1610, and his fight against the ghosts that keep coming back to haunt him.

This is now completed, enjoy some Hobie angst and plenty of H/C because that’s the best. 

[nanowired-lover]

I cannot read any fanfic with Hobie in it bc fr, I can see that some of y'all don't know shit about politics and punk values

[seokjinsonlyone]

one thing bout me is i love a hoseok fic like idk why half my wips are hobi 💀

[captain-joongz]

summer recap/favourite fics/fic recommendations for the first half of 2024

Professor Rapline by @joonsmagicshop

♡ professors! joon, hobi and yoongs x f!reader, professor x student relationship, the rapline takes turns on reader, namjoon centric, smut smut smut

backtrack by @mapofthesea

♡ producers!jimin and yoongs x assistant!reader, studio sex, situationship, reader gets absolutely railed and it's accidentally recorded

Masked miracles by @remedyx + Shadows we trust by remedyx + Boyfriend for hire by remedyx + Trouvaille by @spookyserenades

♡ these series' were already mentioned in my previous recommendations list, but i cannot stress this enough - go read them, they're absolutely amazing!! i will literally never shut up about these and i'll put them on every fic rec list i make until the end of time :D

Golden boy by @kpopfanfictrash

♡ pornstar!jin x f!reader, neighbours au, it's very sweet and funny, absolutely amazing smut

fast lane by @yminie

♡ racer!jin x pitcrew!reader, slowburn but so fucking worth it, kookie gets hurt but it's for character development, e2l/annoyances 2l, smut

midnight by @miniminimermaid

♡ yoongi struggling with burnout and reader helps relax him, soft sex, body worship

Sugar rush ride by @lo1k-diamonds

♡ producer! yoongs x producer!reader, coworkers au, reader is bratty and yoongi is a little shit, mutual pining, smut

A new rhythm by @sluttywoozi

♡ producers! yoongs and jihoon x yoongi's gf!reader, virgin!jihoon, soft sex, they help woozi lose his v-card, allusions to possible poly

three tangerines by @kithtaehyung

♡ brother's best friend!yoongs x f!reader, fuckboy!yoongi, reader asks him for help in the bedroom and gets everything and more, some angst

The early shift by @hobidreams

♡ barista!yoongs x barista!reader, coworkers au, e2l, angsty but gets sweet, yoongi is struggling and reader tries to help, smutty smut smut

love roulette by @whatifyoulivelikethat

♡ producer!yoongs x jin's bff!reader, a bet gone... right??, slowburn, humour and fluff, they help each other, smut, reader has a noona kink and nobody lets her breathe

noise complaints by @jkstompers

♡ producer!yoongs x bassist!reader, neighbours au, reader is in a rock band, smut

strike a chord by @snackhobi

♡ pianist!yoongs x f!reader, reader gets stood up and instead listens to bar musician yoongi, slowburn, smut

Illicit favours by @yoongiofmine

♡ producer!yoongi x writer!reader, bff2l, virgin reader needs help with writing sex scenes, shenanigans ensue, mutual pining, idiots in love

Tricks of the trade by @stutterfly

♡ shopkeeper!yoongs x f!reader, body swap au, jin is a deity of chaos, awkward flirting cause they don't know hot to talk to each other, misunderstandings, sexual tension and smut

Performance evaluation by @kookscrescent

♡ fuckboy!yoongs x f!reader, college au, one night stand?? au, reader asks yoongi to tell her whether she's bad in bed, yoongi is a little shit but what's new

Bad idea... right? by @joonsmagicshop

♡ college party au, e2l, sexual tension, tae is a little bit of a douche but hobi makes it all better, smut

a word from our sponsors by @ugh-yoongi

♡ podcast co-hosts joon and reader, they read smutty fanfic of themselves, sexual tension, f2l, humour, smut

porn director drabble by @badbtssmut

♡ director!tae x pornstar!reader, tae shows reader's co-star how it's done, public sex, dubcon in a way

Risk management by @chateautae

♡ investment banker!tae x f!reader, s2l, sexual tension (i mean, who could blame her it's tae), smut, window sex

petty by @hamsterclaw

♡ rich kid petty criminal!kookie x lawer babysitter!reader, reader is in charge of making sure kookie doesn't get in trouble, idiots in love, sexual tension but with feels, smut

Redamancy by @gimmethatagustd

♡ alpha!tae x omega!kookie, a/b/o, imprinting, scenting, older tae (*cough* daddy), s2l, love at first sight, smut

Like a river by gimmethatagustd

♡ alpha!tae x omega!yoongi x alpha!joon, a/b/o, unexpected heat, college professors coworkers au, semi-public sex

The love witch by gimmethatagustd

♡ demon!tae x romance blogger witch!yoongs, incubus tae, "how to summon a boyfriend" au, s2l, modern fantasy, smut

(actually you should go read everything jai has put out, she's incredibly talented and i love like every fic she's ever published)

My library | ATEEZ fic recs

[ldysmfrst]

Welcome to American Mate's Master List! The Taglist is CLOSED for this story.

This is an OT7 x Plus Sized/Chubby Reader story. The story will have Mature Scenes. The chapters with these adult themes will have (M) in the chapter name, so please 18+ readers only. Within the chapters, at the start and end of the Mature scene will be the following banner, if you want to skip them.

The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Chapter 1 - Two Weeks Early

Let's introduce you to the world of Hybrids and Playmates. It really is quite simple until a VIP Potential Client's manager walks into your office two weeks early, and it's only a skeleton crew right now.

Chapter 2 - The Playmate Meeting

Bangtan Pack arrives at Playmate Services Inc., USA Idol Division. It's time for the pack to meet the unsigned Playmates, but things don't go as well as planned.

Chapter 3 - Following Instincts

Dealing with the aftermath of the accident, Bangtan Pack reacts upon instincts, some more than others. Y/n learns a few new things.

Chapter 4 - First Case of Alpha Space

Y/n may call herself a Hybrid supporter but never has she dealt with something like this. Y/n gets to see firsthand some of what an Alpha is like when they get a little lost in their instincts.

Chapter 5 - Heated Discussions (M)

Y/n didn't want to cause trouble, but that seemed to be all she did. However, Bangtan Pack thinks sometimes the trouble is worth it.

Chapter 6 - A Proposition for You

Things get intense for Bangtan Pack and Y/n, but not in a good way. Meeting the doctor tonight has bigger implications than Y/n thought was possible.

Chapter 7 - Is This a Joke

After proposing to Y/n the option to become their playmate, the Bangtan Pack struggles to convince her to accept their Prime Alpha's offer. Will Y/n be persuaded or will she run from Fate unknowingly?

Chapter 8 - Time to Tell the Family Pack (M)

While the Bangtang Pack is excited to have Y/n join as a "Play"mate, that may not be the case for her family pack.

Chapter 9 - Shadows of the Past (M)

It becomes clear that pack dynamics can vary from pack to pack. This sometimes leads to interesting reactions. It's where the past can be seen influencing the present that will shadow all.

Chapter 10 - A Date in the Right Direction

After the visit from Dr. Blackwell, some of the Bangtan pack start behaving differently. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe the eldest Alpha has some insight. (This chapter is Seokjin-centric in honor of his coming home from the military)

Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member Part 1

Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member Part 2

Y/n stands up for someone else, and everything starts falling apart. Last night was a dream but the reality of the situation finally hits.

Chapter 12 - Everyone Deserves a Second Chance

It's time to make a choice that can make for an adventure or change y/n's life.

Chapter 13 - Shall we?

It's time for the date with Namjoon. Getting ready becomes more fun than you think it could be with an unexpected surprise and new friends, but what happens as the night goes on?

Chapter 14 - Does it Always End in Ruin? TEASER

Scenting in a car with the Prime Alpha goes better than expected, but once they return to the pack house, things take a turn for Y/n.

As a paid member of my Patreon, you can read the whole chapter now with the early release benefits!

Reader Asks

Has the Bangtan Pack been with a woman before?

How would The Bangtan Pack react to finding Y/n dancing?

Additional Content

Meet Alpha Giant Flemish Rabbit Jungkook's Family

Patreon Artwork Poll Results (1)

American Mate (5) - Extended Scenting Scene (M)

American Mate (8) - Extended/ Additional Scene (M)

Take a look at Chapter 12, Hobi's Fire Red Suit.

[aft3rhrs]

Do you have any blog or fic recs for yandere or mafia BTS? You’ve got me obsessed now!

ily! 💗 and yes, in no particular order bc they're all from my reading lists:

@pynkgothicka — yandere ♡⃝ㅤgangsters ෆ, rockstars, scorned lovers

@aajjks — yandere ♡⃝ㅤemperors, bullies, hybrids, sugar daddies, horror movie aus (jungkook centric)

@jeonggukieverse — yandere ♡⃝ㅤthrillers, mind games, mafia ෆ (jungkook centric)

@taetaecherub — yandere ♡⃝ㅤbullies, stalkers, sweet boyfriends

@yoongsisbae — yandere ♡⃝ㅤlover jungkook, seven days a week and the fantasy

@luv-gukkie — yandere ♡⃝ doctors, stalkers, kidnappers, mafia ෆ

@kooktrash — yandere ♡⃝ coworker taehyung & boyfriend jungkook

@silv3rswirls — yandere ♡⃝ㅤstepbrothers, werewolves, serial killers

@sxtaep — yandere ♡⃝ㅤdance teacher hobi

@themochiverse — yandere ♡⃝ㅤmonster namjoon

@deepdarkdelights — yandere ♡⃝ㅤmonsters, ghosts, cults

here's a list of darker themed blogs if you're interested in dead dove content. enjoy! 🫂

[whatevsman16]

Thoughts on Across the Spiderverse

FUCK THIS MOVIE IS PRETTY

My boy Miles is trying so fuckin hard

My girl Gwen is trying so fucking hard

JOE QUESADA FOUND WEEPING IN HIS OFFICE AT THE SIGHT OF PETER B. PARKER GETTING TO BE A FATHER

Hobie and Pavitr are so fucking funny

Spoilers down below

Bro, Miguel, chill. Like, I get it. Buddy fucked up? But the whole “you were a mistake thing? Nah, fuck you too, bro.”

Oh, hi Donald Glover. Like straight up for real live action Donald Glover.

Dude, why tf is the Spot scary? Like, this dude skeeves me the fuck out

The whole Spider Society looks so fucking cool

Hobie lives to instigate and I respect that.

Real talk, I like that at no point was there a straight up pissing contest between him and Miles. Dude is a total bro, and I’m here for it

HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE ANOTHER UNCLE AARON CENTRIC TWIST AND MAKE IT EFFECTIVELY SCARY?

PROWLER MILES ARE YOU SERIOUS?

WHAT DO YOU MEAN “TO BE CONTINUED?”

[zharizard666]

Today I decided to draw my Hobie Playlist :3 (Its linked under cut xD)

THE TRIANGLE IS MILES CENTRIC

[kairiscorner]

what are you... wearing? — hobie brown x reader

request: reader wearing the I ❤️ my bf shirt she wears it w pride too ‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️ a/n: and ofc, a hobie ver bc why not (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you and hobie had pretty opposing aesthetics--for while he usually wore darker colors and more punk-like, bolder clothing; while you were more of the calmer kind, the more pastel and soft kind of aesthetic. though the two of you would always earn unwanted and unsolicited stares from other people you two would pass by, neither of you cared, you two were in love, so what if they wanted to stare? hobie hadn't let that bother him before, he's used to getting stared at, but he was worried about you if you were okay and didn't feel too conscious about these nosy people's stares. you had told hobie before that the stares didn't bother you too much, though you wished other people could just mind their own business.

it had also happened before that people mistakenly thought hobie was your family member or a really close friend, never as your boyfriend. you've had many people approach you and ask you for your number, but you always declined because you already had hobie, but they didn't know that until you cleared it up. it secretly frustrates hobie that not everyone took you two seriously as a couple, hence, you found the perfect solution for that: the very shirt you were wearing with pride as you walked down the sidewalk with him, hand-in-hand. the shirt read: 'i💗 my boyfriend', with a picture of hobie's face in the heart. as other people stared at you two with mixed reactions, you and hobie both smiled widely at them--with hobie also wearing a shirt that read: 'i💗 my partner', with a goofy selfie of you in the heart.

the first time you showed hobie the shirt, he was surprised you put in the effort to put his face inside the heart, with a good picture of him, too. "wow, love, didn't... expect you to have to say it aloud. but y'know what, i love it, i love it more than i love it, if that makes any sense." he says with a flustered chuckle as you giggled with him bashfully. "y'know what, i can't let you hog all the fun." he says as he takes a blank shirt of his and pulls out some spray paints and newspaper clippings. hobie immediately got to work and began to put the same words on his shirt with a few tweaks, designs, and a lot of pictures of you, mainly silly ones you never wanted to upload on your social medias or show to your friends out of fear they might tease you for them, but ones you looked genuinely happy and most beautiful in.

once hobie was done and the paint and glue all dried, you smiled widely out of embarrassment and delight at how adorable the shirt he made that was very you-themed and you-centric; your little compliments had made hobie's smile widen and the fluster in his face get even more obvious as he spoke to you in broken stutters and kept chuckling as you kept giggling and looking up at him with a bright smile. fast forward to now, with you two walking hand-in-hand happily among a crowd of people passing you two by the sidewalks and streets--many of which were staring at you two and whispering, muttering under their breaths how they never would've guessed you two were a couple if not for the shirts--and just enjoying each other's comforting warmth and touch as you two can finally make it known: you're each ther's, nobody else's.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @solecitoszn @conitagray

[punkeropercyjackson]

A mutual who's url i will not be dropping so he can avoid harrassment from adult Hobie bullshitters said a large part of the reason he believes Hobie is and should be a teenager is that it looks sketchy as shit of the crew to hint at him and Gwen being a thing if he's over 18 and as a Ghostpunk/(afrolatina)Gwen centric Ghostpunkflower stan,he hit the nail on the head big time.In order for adult Hobie to work,you'd have to completely erase Ghostpunk and y'all sure love doin' that for your weird ass fixation on letting Ghostflower and ONLY Ghostflower be the Gwen and Miles ships that get to be shipped and i say that as someone who loves the ship tons and is a defender of it but has had to put up with y'all's 'Miles and Hobie are brothers-coded even if Hobie's a minor,you're #problematic for shipping them!!!' headassery for a year now.Also as someone who has the Ghostpunk dynamic with his girlfriend irl(read:I'm super Hobie-esque,she's super Gwen-esque and we used to be just best friends and i have gender fuckery and she's a trans woman),y'all's anti Ghostpunk attitude screams can't even handle straight passing t4t couples and finding Hobie threating to Gwen as you babify Miles.If you wanna talk hating interracial couples,look in a mirror bitch.They've called Hobie a teenager countless times,verbally AND on paper and you can just leave the fandom and go back to Voltron if you wanna keep starting age discourse over canon minors so you can sexualize them and act like 'both sides are bad'.Get over yourselves

[homiesondaweb]

Everytime I see the Parental Miguel tag on a fic my skin itch. (Especially a Miles or Hobie centric fic)

HE BEAT A 15 YEAR OLD INTO THE SIDE OF A TRAIN HE NEEDS TO BE LOCKED TF UP 🗣️🗣️🗣️

[felinecryptid]

i was writing a pavitr prabhakar centric fic from hobie pov bc a little chaipunk goes a long way but butbut

i was trying to write hobie's cockney accent (like yeah how yall write an accent ) and now i can decently imitate a cockney accent but i still haven't got a clue on how to write it

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hii ik saw me many times but i love your blog so much about hobie and Miguel i have questions have any hc hobie being west African hc of that been there since watched movie i cannot get it out

I AM GOING TO SCREAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM AT THIS BECAUSE YES YES I CAN

(also sorry if this is kinda Yoruba centric!! cause that's the area I know the best - for reference I myself am Bajan/Quechua (West Indies - Barbados / Indigenous Peruvian))

West African!Hobie Headcanons:

And because I'll never get a chance to talk about this again I'm gonna start off with the one I love most and the one people know most about (and that is demonized - literally - the most)

Hobie and Vodou (aka VooDoo):

Yeah, I said it. Hobie can work. He got juju. He rootworks. He conjures. Whatever iteration, whatever title - if Hobie followed any religion it would either be Buddhism, which some argue that some sects can double as a moral philosophy,

-If he'd respect any religion. It'd be a Traditional African one and I'm putting money on Vodou.

[And heads up, I am not an initiate of Vodou, but I do actively practice African Traditional Spirituality (HooDoo/Rootworking) and Ancestral Worship. So take from that what you will.]

First of all - how punk would that be??? A West African religion demonized by the western world for centuries from Africa to Haiti to Louisiana - that praised ancestral worship and community first???

YES PLEASE. Some people might not really understand all of this but:

First things first, yes, he speaks Yoruba and if you call it 'Speaking African' he's going to flay you alive.

Like????? Hobie sweet talking in Yoruba??? I'll throw my self on the floor right now!!

Hobie practicing ancestor worship - and thanking all the oppressed people who gave their lives and suffered daily so he can live his life?

He'd have an altar in his house, a small one he keeps out of sight, even to Gwen.

Leaves offerings and bits of his meal on the altar. Cause he was once food insecure, but now that things are a little better, he can do that

Like even if he practiced a form of HooDoo or another sect that derives from Traditional African Spirituality (that doesn't involve initiation)

He'd want to give back to his ancestors, learn how to use natural herbs and work them, learning how to make powders, doing floor washes, sweeping a certain way

And having all of these routines related to his African spirituality that are so subtle but he thinks about always

Prays to his ancestors to give him strength when he's struggling with being Spiderpunk

BUT IMAGINE IF HE WAS INTITATED THO ????

Hobie in all white during ceremony???????

HOBIE BEING A CHILD OF SHANGO??????????

NAH THEY AINT READY FOR IT

But even so -whatever Orisha got that boy head be putting in WORK.

And you know he keeps his beads on forever and always even under the suit!!!!

And the style!!! Hobie AfroPunk?!!!

I don't know if they have this elsewhere, but in NYC there's a music festival called AfroPunk - and it's full of black artists, and black people come out in these amazing outfits - and the goal is to incorporate as much African influence as possible

HOBIE WOULD EAT THIS UP.

The inside of his vest being lined with African textile!!

He takes it off in front of you and you see that little pop of that of classic orange-gold color

You just know he's wit it!!!

And the BEADS

(He should wear beads he's royalty compared to the raggedys at HQ)

[Cough] red and white shango beads [Cough]

Imagine Hobie giving his girlfriend a coral bead bracelet too AWWW

And telling them the significance??!!

He loves a woman in a headwrap. GELE ESPECIALLY but any type

And if you wear waistbeads UMMMMMMMM

As soon as he sees it peeking from under your shirt - IT'S GAME OVER

He's gonna wanna test if they working how they supposed to IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW.

AND The FOOD!

First of all - Hobie hates that British manners shit.

Was raised eating with his hands and loves it

He hates old white people who wanna stare cause he eats with his hands

He loves goat. Not me projecting he LOVES goat.

He really appreciates rice based dishes because they can fill you up - and you can't just buy them anywhere

Prefers Waakye to Jollof Rice but still loves Jollof

With FUCK UP some Fufu if he can get it

I say he eats standing up so he's just there at his kitchen counter eating Fufu and the most random shit in his fridge???

Like he'll be eating left over KFC with fufu - like what are you doing??? Thats - not a meal bro

He loves Okra (ew nasty ass) and he'll eat it all the time.

Especially fried okra but okra soup is cool too he's fine with that

His fried plantains go INSANE. They go SO HARD. They're to die for

He always picks the sweetest ones and it cooks them till they're all caramelized and shit YUMMMMM

(can you tell I like my plaintains sweet and soft cause I DO)

Extra Headcanons

He was not playing that when Gwen first came over - as soon as she stepped on the houseboat with shoes he was like "Girl-"

The first time Peter B. heard him speaking Yoruba he went "Wow, Hobie, Your Nigerian is great!"

Hobie, who already hates Peter B, looked at him like he was the dumbest mfer on earth like

'Right, and you speak American, right? Fucking bellend. I hate you. 'Nigerian'. It's Yoruba.'

(He's only saying that cause he hates Peter personally and wants him to have a bad day)

Meanwhile Gwen was nice enough to just ask "What language is that?" (The correct way to do it, do not assume language names like Peter)

First time he went over to Peter B.'s place (on Gwen's insistence), Mary-Jane accidentally swept over his feet before setting her purse on the floor

and in the moment he knew he had to leave.

He's a streetkid, but since he's in the neighborhood so much he has like 45 different women he calls auntie - and they make sure he has good food to eat because 'you are so skinny! you need to eat more.'

He does that auntie shit where you're walking with him and you see someone you know and now they're in a long ass conversation

Or when he says 'goodbye' then stands by the door having a conversation and you're standing there in your coat like....'fam are we out or not cause i can sit back down'.

He always goes to meet the elders of whatever house he's in to introduce himself, very respectful of black elders and enjoys helping old the older black folk in his neighborhood.

He enjoys giving them respect and hearing their stories, helping around the house. Plus he gets great food out of it

ANNDD That's all of them I think!! Sorry if any of these were off the mark - a lot of these are from personal things I know about West Africa and things learned through Spirituality. I hope I got everything okay!

Thanks for this by the way I LOVE Hobie and culture you know he'd be SO proud!!

[If you've read this far - maybe take some time out to learn a bit about African religions - they're beautiful practices (open to black people - we're worshipping black ancestors) - but you can still learn about them and understand how modern culture often demonizes these types of religions. If anything, I hope you learned a little from this! Hoodoo, Vodun (VooDoo), and Santeria (Latino witchcraft) are not scary, dark practices!] And because I spoke about spirituality, imma put this here cause DO not be playing yknowwhatimean

🧿

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (03)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, obs3 is kinda oc centric 🤔, a mention of death but like a hypothetical death??, mentions of being *emotionally* haunted, taehyung almost dies 😭, someone so hot and cocky and petty that you might die, oh and tswift references because obviously

rating: PG-13

word count: 7.8k

note: asdfghjkl it’s been a hot minute guys. this was supposed to be longer but i decided last minute that some bits would probably work better in obs4, so no jimin and hobi today 🤥

vote for the revenge 🍆 😈 here before obs4!

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young

Cardigan - Taylor Swift

Sometimes, you cry in your sleep.

When you were a kid, aged four or five, you often had nightmares about going to kindergarten. It was all very dramatic. You would wake up with tears and snot running down your face, wailing like someone was taking your candy, calling for your mother until you made sure that you were in fact at home, instead of locked away in the absolute hell that was preschool.

As you got older, you started having nightmares about a wider variety of things, but it was usually about someone passing away – your mother, to be specific – and your body would always shake itself awake as the imaginary devastation wreaked its havoc, taunted you, toying with the idea of losing a person you loved. You used to think your brain was a special kind of fucked up.

Regardless, you noticed a pattern in how your subconscious worked. Instead of monsters and demons and every horrifying urban legend mentioned on Creepypasta, it would plague you with your greatest fears and your own worst memories. You tend to burst at the seams just like that, tortured by your own damn mind.

When you opened your eyes this morning, a tear immediately rolled down your cheek onto the pillow, and a hollow, stricken feeling greeted you good morning as it settled in your ribcage, making a home next to your heart. You felt it seep into every vein and every pore before you were even fully awake.

Though this time, it wasn’t a dream about someone dying. Quite the opposite, actually. In fact, it was a nice moment that your brain chose to replay in your head as you slept, though the memory seems to have slipped your mind now that you’re trying to escape the sudden anguish in your chest.

You can’t recall what it was, but you remember the feeling. You remember that it was nice. A nice and happy memory, with Jungkook.

You don’t know why your subconscious has to agonize you like this. Every time it forces you to remember Jungkook and who he was, it adds another invisible scar that only you can see. Fantasy keeps making you relive him, and reality keeps ripping him away from you.

You aren’t an emotional person, or you didn’t use to be anyway. You think – no, scratch that, you know – that it must be the result of your mother’s emotional unavailability throughout your whole childhood. Whenever you tripped and fell, or accidentally burned your tongue on a hot drink, or got teased by the neighbor kids, your first resort is to cry because that’s what children do. They get hurt, and they cry. But then your crying would cease after a few minutes, because your mother would scold you into stopping. She conditioned vulnerability out of you since you were a kid.

Even as you’ve grown up and learned to distance yourself from her, to separate her wants from yours, to be your own person instead of someone that your mother was trying to revive her long lost dreams through, you still hear her words sometimes. You can’t be anyone if you’re weak.

You can’t say that it’s entirely her fault. That’s the generational difference between the two of you, and the hypocritical standards to which the world operated in her time are really to blame. In a way, she was just a victim, a byproduct of that hypocrisy. But she tried to pass that onto you, and for some reason, you can’t let go of the fact that she did manage to instill in you some of her aversion for vulnerability.

By the time that you met Jungkook, you had already been away from your mother for a while. You weren’t estranged, but you weren’t on the best terms that a mother and her daughter should be on. You started to be independent from her halfway through high school and gradually, because she stopped being the person who gave you the clothes off your back and put food on your table, you took away the right she thought she had to rule over every aspect of your life.

And despite that disdain for vulnerability that you at a young age had no choice but to internalize, you became the one to decide what to feel, and how to feel it. You decided that maybe being emotional wasn’t the worst thing after all. It’s normal to cry when you’re sad, or in pain, or when you’re neither but you just simply need to let out a good cry. 

You reckon that’s where it came from – your need to be in charge, to be in control of everything. If you’re the one in the driver’s seat, then other people have less power to hurt you.

But not Jungkook. Never Jungkook.

It applies to everyone else, but you don’t suppose Jungkook has ever played by your rules.

Being with him was easy. You were surprised how little effort it took to let him in because you were once convinced that there was no chance you would ever be able to stand him. Loving him made breathing seem hard. 

In your relationship with Jungkook, there was nothing to decide. You didn’t have to choose to be happy; he just made you happy. As long as you were with him, every house was a home. Until he pulled the rug and you reverted to being that little kid again, on the ground with bloodied knees. He was the calm, and he was the storm.

You had no say in him leaving you, and you had no say in how his swift exit from your life would affect you. For the longest time, there was just a lot of heartache that demanded to be felt.

In the first few months after it happened, you were practically debilitated by the sadness. Taehyung still remembers it all too well. You spent your weekend evenings drowning your sorrows by knocking back drink after drink until you couldn’t remember who you were trying to forget. You could barely even function, and it was fucking pathetic. It was the most helpless you had ever felt.

It wasn’t until Taehyung and Jimin took away your most effective distraction that you started choosing again. If your mother made you choose to feel, then Jungkook made you do the opposite. He taught you that maybe your mother wasn’t so wrong after all. Maybe she’d been hurt before. Maybe she was only keeping you from having to experience it. Maybe this was how she loved you.

You took it one day at a time. Baby steps. Because the only way to condition your heart to not love Jungkook, was to convince yourself that you hated him. You forced yourself to internalize it until you believed it.

You hated him.

You hated him.

You hated him.

And it worked, because he wasn’t there to tell your heart otherwise. Choosing not to love Jungkook is choosing to love yourself.

But in your dreams, in your sleep, however, it’s another story. The difference between feeling when you’re awake, sober, and feeling when you’re asleep, is the control. When your lines of defense are down, all hell breaks loose.

Your subconscious is a strange place. If the hurt was a house, then you’d be its most treasured occupant. But this house is haunted. You walk through the halls every day, and down the stairs, and into rooms that are filled with memories of you and him. The walls echo I love you, the curtains rustle with whispers of I miss you, but every night, when you settle into a bed that is only warm on one side, you feel the distinct absence of an I’m sorry.

Jungkook didn’t even say sorry to you, not when it mattered the most.

Funny enough, right across the street is the healing, but you’ve never really been able to get close to it. With every step you take, the distance seems to stretch longer and longer, until you’re just running in place trying to get to the other side. Eventually, you get tired of trying, and even though the hurt is a hellscape purely designed to make you suffer, you think you would rather go back to that house than be stuck in the hollow limbo in the middle of nowhere, looking at a better future just within reach but never really getting there. It’s cold in the void, and it’s warmer in the hurt because there, at least it’s familiar.

Sometimes, you’d stand in the bedroom, wrapped in a blanket of your own insecurities and regrets, and look out the window. The floorboards beneath your unsteady feet creak with the voices of everybody who has left you, everybody who was taken from you, everybody who deemed you unworthy of their love and time.

You’d stand there and see a glimpse of yourself in a better world, where you’re a little less lonely, a little less hollow, a little less of a shadow of your former self. You could see yourself be happy, even.

You know that it’s there. It’s all about making the active decision to move forward. But the brighter future that awaits you just ahead is one without Jungkook, and… you’ve never been sure if you really want that.

It takes some more effort than usual to breathe, and to sit up, and to get out of bed, and to start your day like everything is fine and like you aren’t knee deep in one of your unwanted sad girl hours. It’s unwanted because you didn’t choose this. You’ve been actively choosing to not be sad about Jungkook for so long that you almost forgot there was a time where you had no choice but to be sad about him.

He only came back into your life recently, and he hasn’t done anything – not really – and yet, he’s already threatening to undo what you’ve taught yourself and all the progress you’ve made.

You don’t know if he kept his promise of leaving first thing in the morning since you aren’t exactly an early riser, but he did leave before you woke up. And when you paddle out into the kitchen, for some reason you feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

You’re surprised to see Taehyung there, looking at you awkwardly and holding a bag of pastries in his hands. On the kitchen counter next to him is a plate of toasts and scrambled eggs with a side of kimchi. An odd combo but it’s your odd combo. There’s some steam that’s still rising from the food.

Taehyung nods toward the counter and sets his croissants on the dining table. He addresses an elephant in the room but not the elephant in the room.

“I got your favorites, but it looks like you already have your breakfast.”

“Oh, uh…” You purse your lips and swallow, recognizing that Taehyung didn’t buy food to bring over and then made you some more food. You’re hungry, but you don’t feel like you can stomach anything right now. “You can have that… I’ll take what you got me.”

He nods and doesn’t say anything else. He maneuvers around the familiar space of your kitchen to get some orange juice from the fridge. Taehyung offers to make you a cup of tea even though it’s your apartment, but you decline and choose to munch on the croissants dryly.

The atmosphere is off at your dining table. 

Yours and Taehyung’s love language is food. It’s sad how you can’t even share this nice thing with him today.

Taehyung takes a hesitant bite of the eggs, as if he’s scared that you’ll jump over the table to take back your plate. It’s just breakfast.

Neither of you says anything about who spent the night on your couch just out in the living room, nor about who made the food that Taehyung is eating. 

To anyone else, there probably isn’t even something to talk about. You provided someone shelter and they made you some food as a gesture of appreciation. And maybe that really is the case with this. You gave Jungkook a place to stay so he wouldn’t risk his life in the heavy rain and in return, he scrambled some eggs and toasted some bread for you.

You’re overthinking it. There’s no deeper layer of meaning here.

You’re half present and half somewhere far away. Words slip from your mouth as you converse with Taehyung but you don’t know what the conversation is even about. One of those times where you’re talking but not really saying anything.

“So…” Taehyung trails off unsuredly. You chuckle, knowing what he’s trying to do. It’s warmer in your chest, where your heart soars with affection for Kim Taehyung. You love him so much, you love him wholeheartedly. You cannot even begin to fathom what life would be like without him.

You’re grateful that your friend doesn’t press for information; he must sense from the way you’re idly picking at the flakes of your croissant that you would talk about it in your own time. You take the reins that he’s handing you, letting you steer the conversation in whichever way you want to.

“You went off about private jets last night. What was that all about?”

“Celebrities these days, man,” he grumbles, sounding exaggeratingly aggravated. “Did you know that Kylie Jenner takes flights on her jet for less than 20 minutes? Twenty whole minutes? I mean, what the fuck is up with that? Complete disregard for the environment.”

With a scoff, you pretend to be annoyed. “I knew you weren’t listening to me. I told you about her 3-minute flight last month, you ass.”

He leans back, still chewing, and thinks, though after approximately fifteen seconds, he announces with no remorse, “Yeah, I don’t really listen when you tell me celebrity gossip.”

You gasp and chuck a croissant flake in his direction. It doesn’t make it very far, and lands on the eggs instead.

“Then why are you suddenly so invested? How do you even know who Kylie Jenner is now, and how she uses her jets?”

“Hey! I know who Kylie Jenner is!” He seems offended, but then adds in a smaller voice, “Sort of.” Classic Taehyung, always living under a rock. “The point is, my sister kept sending me articles about it and I thought, “Huh. Private jets. The environment. Billionaires. Celebrities.” We– well, you, aren’t that far removed from that. You’re working with one of them right now.”

You give him a look.

“What?” Taehyung shrugs. “Jin must have his own jet too, right?”

You don’t know. It isn’t a topic that would casually come up in conversation, nor does he go around bragging about it. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he does own a jet, though. The amount of zeroes decorating his very Googleable net worth makes you woozy if you think about it too much.

You shrug. “I don’t know, maybe?”

“I bet he does,” Taehyung says, leaning forward on his elbows as if he’s got some insider scoop you aren’t privy to. “And I bet you won’t remember this conversation when Jin offers to fly you to award shows on his jet.”

Maybe there’s some truth about speaking things into existence and the universe conspiring to make it happen. Manifesting and all that. The law of attraction and whatnot. Speak positive things into existence and you shall receive positive outcomes. Think negative thoughts and you will attract the shittiest things the cosmos has ever birthed.

You aren’t really a believer in this, but you’d rather not take your chances. Not if everyone and their mother are screaming about the universe and its infinite possibilities all the time.

You suppose that’s why you haven’t really talked to Taehyung lately when it comes to your Jungkook predicament, not since he reentered your life oh so gracefully. Talking about it makes it seem like a bigger deal than you want it to be. Talking about your feelings makes it harder to ignore that they’re there.

Jungkook certainly isn’t making things easier for you. You thought that he was getting too buddy-buddy before, but if last Saturday proved anything, he definitely has room to crank it up a few notches. It’s fair, because he did spend the night, and if this was a romcom, the two of you would have successfully sailed past the ice breaking point. This would be the part of the movie where the characters grow closer, and where the romance blooms.

But this is not a movie and Jungkook doesn’t seem to fucking remember that he’s the person that broke your heart. 

Not once has he addressed the elephant in the room, which you suppose isn’t something you can complain about. You don’t want him to bring it up either, the fact that you once knew him better than anyone in the world, and he knew you. You all know how that story ended.

Actually, you don’t. You just know that it ended.

“Good morning,” a voice greets from beside you. You register who it is even before you turn around, and you register that as of right now, you’re the only ones standing here, waiting for the elevator.

“Morning,” you say, though your voice is considerably less enthusiastic. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though. He smiles, and the curl of his lips looks almost as inviting as the coffee you’re holding in your hand. The beverage is full and warm against your fingers. You’ve yet to take a sip, and you tell yourself that the weariness fogging up your brain is the reason why you think his expression is just a little bit endearing, and why your heart rate picks up just a couple beats because of it.

The elevator dings. When Jungkook steps in, you hesitate. 

“You coming?” he asks, slightly confused.

You wait for a beat, your grip tightening on the paper cup, like you’d be able to summon someone else to waltz in there right this second just so you wouldn’t be alone with him. On a Monday morning at that. Life is truly testing you.

And because life is testing you, no one shows up to rescue you. If you concentrate hard enough, maybe Taehyung will magically materialize out of thin air…

You suck it up and step in though, because you don’t want to look like a weirdo in front of your ex, and whoever might be watching the security cameras.

The doors close, trapping you in this metal death box and its commercial background jingle. 

“How was the rest of your weekend?” Jungkook asks. Small talk – it’s one of the things you dislike the most. And coming from him of all people?

“It was fine,” you say curtly, but you know he’ll keep prodding.

And he does. “What did you do on Sunday?”

“Y’know, just catching up on sleep, catching up on some TV shows…”

Jungkook frowns, and he’s glad that you aren’t looking at him to see it. That night, you were kind to him. You managed to have a good conversation or two. You made him dinner and you let him sleep over. Granted, you might have only done it out of politeness and not genuine hospitality. You could’ve let him go when he was packing up to leave, but you didn’t. You were kinder to him than he ever expected you to be when this project forced you two together again, and he knows that he’s in no position to hope for anything else.

But here he is anyway, asking for more.

In the time that he takes to think of what else to say to you, to goad you into actually speaking to him, the elevator has already reached your floor. You step out without a word, and Jungkook sinks just a little bit.

But he carries on. He follows you to where the studio is, though he deliberately keeps himself a few paces behind you to not crowd the space you’re silently asking from him. It’s barely 9:30 in the morning; he can see that you’re tired, and you haven’t had your coffee, and the last thing you need is probably Jungkook trying to push it when he has the option not to.

He watches you open the door and promptly stop. Seokjin and Namjoon are already there, animatedly conversing with someone whose back faces you. Seokjin’s manager and an unfamiliar older woman stand in the back of the room, engaged in their own chat, though theirs seems much calmer and formal than the three men in the center.

Jungkook watches your brows slightly furrow in confusion. The gears in your head turn until everything clicks. Your eyes light up immediately. 

“Oh my God…” You almost drop the latte in your hand once you realize who it is, and why Namjoon is fawning over him like a teenager. The mysterious man is the second most famous person in the room just after Seokjin. You rush forward, your entire body buzzing with so much excitement that it makes all traces of fatigue evaporate. “Yoongi!”

Everybody in the room turns to the sound of your shrill voice as you squeal loudly, grinning from ear to ear to see your friend again after so long. It’s been, what, almost half a year now?

“Hey, kiddo,” Yoongi greets you, his voice even and cool though he’s sporting the same bright smile as you are. His hair is longer than the last time you saw him. He looks even more handsome than you remember. “Long time no see. How’s my favorite poet doing?”

Jungkook quietly makes his way past the two of you to drop his stuff on the table in the back before he shuffles to the circle of conversation, opting to stand next to Yoongi. He gives Seokjin and Namjoon a small smile and a nod in greeting, and watches on as the scene before them unfolds. You seemed too tired to even give him two sentences in the elevator, but you definitely don’t look anything like it now.

“When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me?” You punch Yoongi playfully in the arm, and he pretends to clutch the point of contact as if he’s been severely wounded, just like how you used to joke around together in the studio. You roll your eyes, and he shoots you a wink in return.

“Relax, I just got back a few days ago. I wanted it to be a surprise for you. You should’ve seen the look on your face. It was so worth it,” Yoongi admits, still smiling. He takes the coffee cup from your hand and unceremoniously knocks it against the chest of the person on his left – Jungkook. A firm Hold this, like he was merely passing it to a personal assistant. “Are you at least gonna give me a hug, little one?”

Yoongi opens his arms, awaiting your embrace which you give him after half a minute of pretending to consider it. Your arms go around his middle while his own wrap around your shoulders. He’s warm, and his scent is comforting. You’ve missed your connection with Yoongi, and the friendship he’s given you. You’ve missed him.

The thing that makes your relationship with Yoongi different from your relationship with Taehyung, or Jimin, or anyone else, is the context through which your friendship bloomed.

You met him when you were starting to come into your own as a writer, when you were developing your voice and style. Working with him gave you your big break, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t play an important role in helping you find your identity in this sphere of life. Yoongi understands you in ways that Taehyung and Jimin never could because they don’t know what it’s like to do what you do, no more than you could understand what it’s like to be a museum curator or a dancer. And Yoongi understands you in ways that Jungkook would have if he had been there.

When you pull away from the hug, Jungkook is quick to thrust the coffee back into your hand. You mutter a small Thanks without even meeting his eyes. Yoongi ruffles your hair affectionately, and it makes you shuffle away in faux annoyance, even though you’re laughing.

“Before you so rudely interrupted us, I was introducing myself,” Yoongi chides, shaking his head in your direction like a disappointed teacher. He turns to his left then, a smug grin on his face as he looks Jungkook over. “If he’s Namjoon, then you must be the famous Jungkook? What a pleasure to finally put a face to the name.”

The confusion flashing in Jungkook’s eyes has you stiffening slightly as you watch their interaction. You were so delighted by Yoongi’s surprise appearance that you forgot he’s one of the three people in the room who knows about your history with Jungkook.

The younger man straightens his posture and extends a hand in Yoongi’s direction, his expression blank and his voice flat as he says, “Yeah, that’s me. I’m very much looking forward to working with you, Yoongi.”

“Oh please,” the rapper laughs, taking the offered hand and shaking it vigorously. It’s too much, almost comical. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you want to dig a hole to crawl into because this is not what you expected at all. “Call me Mr. Min.”

Seokjin and Namjoon break into chuckles alongside Yoongi, but you only purse your lips. Jungkook doesn’t seem to find anything humorous either, because his hand stops as he stares at Yoongi, and you don’t have to stand between them to feel trapped in the middle.

“Oh come on, it’s a joke. Lighten up, buddy,” Yoongi finally says. That grin is still on his face, and his tone is almost patronizing. “Jeez, this guy must be fun at parties.”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to you for a second, his tongue poking into his cheek. You can tell that he’s annoyed. You’re not sure if Seokjin and Namjoon notice it, but even if they do, you doubt that they would think much of it.

Someone that you recognize as Yoongi’s manager says to Jungkook in a calm voice, “You’ll have to excuse him. Yoongi takes some getting used to.” 

In the end, Jungkook forces out a laugh to ease the tension, so you all can move on.

Before you can slither away to your own corner of the room to put down your bag and coffee, Yoongi pulls you back to his side with an arm resting comfortably around your shoulders. You give him a warning glare that you know he understands, but he just shrugs against your body. Underneath that smug and phlegmatic exterior, Yoongi seems almost protective, and it’s almost unsettling.

“So fellas,” he says confidently to the room, “what’s the first order of business?”

“What business?” You frown. “You have one feature, and we’re not finished writing yet.”

Seokjin steps in to address whatever it is that’s making Yoongi look like he could be the king of the world. “Actually,” he starts, “that’s what I wanted to talk to you guys about today.”

The second surprise of the day is Min Yoongi calling himself the Jack Antonoff to Kim Seokjin’s Taylor Swift. The second surprise is Agust D being a much more prominent part of the album than just a simple feature. The second surprise is Yoongi practically begging Seokjin for a job much below his pay grade just because he heard your name and Jungkook’s in the same sentence. The man actually dove right into this after his tour ended, without even a moment to catch his breath, just because he’s petty. And it’s weird because your situation doesn’t even concern him.

That’s another thing that you and Yoongi have in common: You’re both petty. 

When Seokjin first announced the news, you were practically vibrating. Yoongi as a producer? Get the fuck out. The other artistic pea in your creative pod? You were already overjoyed when you thought you would only be getting him for a feature, but for him to actually hop on board as producer and you get the chance to make another album with him? You’re elated, because the man is brilliant.

But then the excitement died down when the realization set in…

“Yoongi.”

“Y/N.”

“Yoongi!”

“Y/N!”

You huff out a breath and groan internally. He has never been shy to show that he enjoys teasing you. Every time he gets a reaction out of you, he would coo like you were a baby and call you adorable. 

Yoongi leans back as he watches you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. The two of you are sitting in the booth that he always requests, in the back of his favorite restaurant. You managed to pry him away from the studio earlier, telling the guys that you’d love to grab lunch with him to catch up.

It wasn’t a lie; you do want to sit down with your friend and listen to everything that has transpired in his life since the last time you saw each other. But he’s been here for a few hours and he has already made your job so much more difficult by being a passive aggressive dickhead to Jungkook. You can’t focus on making a good album for Seokjin if you have to run interference on Yoongi and Jungkook all day.

“What was that this morning?” You cross your arms as you stare at him.

“What was what?” Yoongi tilts his head innocently.

“You know what, Min. All the nicknames, the cocky attitude. Treating Jungkook like he’s your secretary. You made him get coffee for you!”

He scoffs and reaches forward for his glass of water. “Come on, that was funny. I thought you’d enjoy that.”

“Well, I didn’t. It’s exhausting enough to be around him all the time. I don’t want to have to babysit you too.”

You see where he’s coming from, you really do. If your friend had an ex who flipped their entire world upside down, you certainly wouldn’t be the friendliest gal toward that person either. You appreciate Yoongi looking out for you, but he has to understand that this is your place of work, and while you and him are friends, you still live in different worlds. You aren’t a world-renowned, jetsetting heartthrob like him and Seokjin; you can’t afford to screw up opportunities because you know they don’t grow on trees.

Yoongi softens when he sees the look on your face, but he stands by his actions. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he murmurs across the table, “but can’t Jungkook handle a few jabs here and there? The guy deserves it. If you could listen to yourself when you told me everything that went down between the two of you–”

“I was drunk,” you interject, as if that counterpoint would ever hold up. Drunk words are sober thoughts, or whatever it is that people say.

“Being drunk was the only reason why you were honest with me,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle.

“It’s…” you sigh, “it’s not even about whether he deserves it or not. I just don’t want everyone at work to know my business.”

A waitress comes over to your table with your orders then. Your eyes follow her movements as she sets the plates down, while Yoongi’s eyes follow you. When she’s finished, you thank her with a smile, and Yoongi compromises.

He rubs his palms and clasps them together. “Okay, here’s what I’ll do. I’ll put him through the wringer, but I’ll keep your name out of it. No one will know about your history. Let Jungkook think I’m just an asshole, I don’t care.”

It’s not ideal, because you would rather have Yoongi act like he doesn’t know anything at all. Like he’s just as clueless as Seokjin and Namjoon and like to him, you and Jungkook have never been more than a pair of coworkers. But this is the most that Yoongi would settle for because he’s annoying like that sometimes.

“Fine,” you agree with great reluctance. You pick up a fork and point it in his direction. “Since you’re an asshole, you’re paying for lunch.”

He swats your fork away, laughing. “It’s cute that you thought I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard you and Jungkook went to college together, right? Were you close?”

Were you close?

This is a normal thing to ask. Anyone would ask this if they knew two people who had a prior history with each other. When you found out that Yoongi ran in the same circles as Seokjin, you asked him if they were close too.

But when the question came from Seokjin much later that afternoon, while the four of you were just sitting around, enjoying a much needed break after three nonstop hours of testing Seokjin’s acoustics and an instrumental demo that Jungkook worked on last week.

You don’t even know how Seokjin got to that question from you mindlessly recalling the strenuous process of learning music theory in college, but nevertheless, here you are, put on the spot.

It’s a simple yes-no question, though saying no would prompt even more queries, and saying yes would… well, what would saying yes mean?

Seokjin and Namjoon are looking at you. Jungkook is looking at you. You’re glad that Yoongi left after he dropped you off. If he were here, he would be awaiting your answer too.

There’s a lot you wish you could let out. You swallow thickly, but the words just won’t go down.

You want to say… Yes, we were close. We were close in the same way that the name of someone’s first love can be inscribed on their heart and never fade away. If you could hold my beating heart in your hands, and if you had a key to open it, I think you would find his initials there. The letters might be messily scribbled, might be crossed out by harsh lines of ink and rewritten again in a different font, but they’re still there, and they will always be there.

Yes, we were close. He knew me inside and out, better than the back of his own hand. He knew me like we came from the same star, destined to find one another before we were even us. 

Yes, we were close. He was the person I loved the most, my favorite person in the whole entire world. I think, and I hope, that I was someone he loved too…

Despite the words lodged in your throat, you aren’t in a position to voice any of it. So you push them down — a conscious and routine decision — and shove them into your box of memories again.

You scratch the back of your neck as you look at Jungkook and he looks at you, eyes conveying something you’re not willing to understand. In the end, you settle for a response that doesn’t really answer Seokjin’s question. But even if your words don’t clear anything up, your hesitation ought to have given something away.

It’s the opposite of what you told Jungkook when he showed up at your door for the first time in five years.

“We were… friends.”

When Taehyung comes home from work the next day, he almost fucking dies.

It’s a regular evening. On the drive home, he thought about the leftover pasta waiting for him in the fridge because he was absolutely starving. He thought about which documentary he was going to watch while he ate his dinner. He thought about telling you that his sister got an acceptance letter from her dream college. You’ve always loved her, and he knows you would be over the moon to share her joy as if she was your own family.

Yeah, just a regular Tuesday evening.

Until he opens the door to his apartment and screams loud enough to alarm the entire building.

“What the fuck!” His keys clatter to the floor as the man clutches his chest in an attempt to calm his heart. Laughter bounces off Taehyung’s walls, in total contrast to his heavy breaths from almost going into cardiac arrest.

“Hi, bud,” you manage to say through tears from your place on the couch in his living room, where you’ve been waiting for the past hour and a half in complete silence and darkness. Your ears hurt from him almost taking out your hearing and your eyes have to adjust to the sudden brightness in the room when Taehyung switched on the lights, but it was so worth the laugh. You wish you could’ve captured his face on camera.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Your friend grumbles as he hangs up his jacket and picks up his keys to throw in the ceramic bowl by the small entryway.

“I texted you to come over but you never replied.”

Taehyung fishes his phone from the pocket of his slacks and throws it in your direction, which you clumsily catch. “My phone died.”

“Where’s the powerbank I got you for your birthday?”

He walks over to plop down next to you on the couch. The cushions dip under his weight, and you scootch over to make more room for him.

“I left it at home.”

You slap a hand over his pec, your face unimpressed. “There’s no point in getting you anything.”

“Don’t do that,” he bemoans, rubbing the spot on his chest that you just hit. “My heart is still racing. You scared the fucking shit out of me.”

You reach over to pat his soft hair as an apology before you tip your head back in another fit of giggles. “Sorry! But in my defense, you know I do shit like this. This is not the first time you’ve gone through this.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung mutters. “Why did you need me to come over? I was looking forward to a relaxing night all by myself.”

You shuffle closer until your head can rest on his shoulder. “I have gossip.”

“Celebrity gossip?”

“My gossip.”

“Gossip?” He raises an eyebrow as he glances down at you. “Or gossip?”

You take some seconds to decipher which category the Yoongi news would fit into, and which category the revelation that Namjoon dropped in your lap earlier today would fit into. “Both,” you conclude. 

“Namjoon told you that Jungkook lied?”

“He didn’t know that Jungkook lied. I pieced it together.”

“Hmm.”

Your fingers curl around the steaming mug of tea that Taehyung made for each of you. You bring the ceramic close to your face to breathe in the soothing scent of jasmine rising from the beverage. 

Taehyung takes a sip of his drink before he asks, “And how do you feel about that?”

You don’t answer right away, though you knew this question was inevitable. How do you feel about it? The fact that Namjoon didn’t actually have a family emergency when he dropped Jungkook at your apartment when the three of you were supposed to brainstorm together. The fact that when they pulled up in front of your building, Jungkook told Namjoon that he could go home if he wanted to, that Jungkook didn’t want to make him work on a day off. The fact that despite Namjoon saying it was completely fine, Jungkook practically insisted that he go home.

When Namjoon told you about it a few hours ago, your first thought was to tell Taehyung. It wasn’t Namjoon’s intention, of course. He didn’t know. He was asking you about some of the edits to the lyrics made in his absence, and it just came out.

You deliberately waited until you could sit down and talk to your best friend to sort through your thoughts because if you did it alone, you would surely spiral. Because this isn’t Taehyung’s first Jungkook-related rodeo with you; he knows how to handle you in times like these.

“I think this is fucking me up again,” you say honestly. Taehyung is the only person that you’ve admitted any of this to; the only person that you can admit any of this to. “I just want to do my job. Jungkook shouldn’t be allowed to maintain any kind of relationship with me outside of work! But all of a sudden he’s spending the night and asking me about my love life. It’s been years. Why is he still affecting me? Why am I still here?”

Here. Between the past and the future. The limbo parallel to the present.

Sure, maybe it’s for the better that Jungkook doesn’t bring it up. You would rather that this stay between the two of you (and, cue a heavy sigh, Yoongi). You know Seokjin and Namjoon are decent people, and their opinion of you wouldn’t change if they knew about this, but you would rather your place of work be drama-free.

So yes, maybe it is better this way. But it would be best if Jungkook treats you like a mere coworker. If he acts like you simply don’t exist outside of the studio. If he could stop making your already messed up heart even more confused. All of that would be better than whatever the fuck he’s doing now.

Asking about your love life. Being attentive. Smiling around you. Bringing you the drink you once loved. Lying so he would get you alone! 

It doesn’t even matter if he wants a blank slate, because he can’t undo the damage he caused just by batting his eyelashes at you and pretending like everything is fine and dandy.

Maybe Jungkook hasn’t said anything because he himself would rather forget all about it too. You could understand this to a certain extent, because no one wants to be reminded that they’ve hurt others. But he did cause you pain. He did hurt you. The scars that your soul bears are proof of that.

To not say anything at all and have the nerve to act like he cares about you. It’s… cowardly. He’s still continuing to hurt you by doing this. You always thought you deserve better than this.

“Because you keep saying that you hate Jungkook, but you don’t,” Taehyung says. He’s right, you know he’s right. This lie might have been your lifeline before, might have worked once upon a time but Jungkook is here to call your bluff now. “Because you didn’t get any closure.”

Sometimes you forget that Taehyung can be quite the relationship guru despite never having gone through a serious relationship himself. There’s something wistful about him whenever you two have a serious talk like this that makes you wonder if his heart has ever experienced the same kind of sorrow that yours did, and if he just never told you about it.

You pout, despite the gravity of his words and the tension that weighs heavy on you. “I should hate him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees with a chuckle and a sip of tea, “you probably should.”

“I can’t just throw myself into work this time,” you think out loud. It isn’t lost on you that the thing you’ve been using to cope, to distract yourself, is the same thing that has led you back to square one.

The scented candle that you lit and put on the coffee table is burning out. You watch the small flame flicker wildly around the charred wick, like it’s holding onto its final moments of life before time inevitably runs out. You feel oddly sad just looking at it struggling to keep its light, until it finally dies in a tiny whirl of smoke.

“Maybe I should start dating again.” You mean this as a joke, because god knows the last time you tried getting out there again, you were left with a memory so mortifying that sometimes when you reminisce on the experience, you still shudder with embarrassment.

It was the first time that you had gone out clubbing in a while, with a few girls from your internship, and with the intention of capping the night off with a handsome stranger who would make you feel things you hadn’t for some time. Courtesy of lame dating advice you found online.

A few shots in, and through the haze of smoke and booze and busy bodies illuminated by an array of colorful lights, you did manage to find the someone that you were hoping for — tall, handsome, oozing so much charisma that it should’ve been a huge red flag. But you weren’t looking for a big sparkly diamond on your ring finger or a tropical honeymoon somewhere with crystal clear waters. You were just looking for someone.

It went surprisingly well, until it didn’t. Until you started sobbing on the dancefloor of a crowded club, in front of a man who looked at you like you were crazy and like he couldn’t wait to make you someone else’s problem then. Until you had to call Taehyung to come pick you up at 3 in the morning when the entire world was dead asleep. All because the stranger had asked Your place or mine? and a sobering thought washed over you, a sharp reminder that home was not somewhere you could return to anymore.

You knew it then, and you know it now, that even though your world once revolved around Jungkook, it doesn’t always have to be. There is life after him. There is still a you after him.

“You would really consider that?” Taehyung asks.

“I mean, I kinda have to at some point. I don’t want to die alone.”

“You’re not going to die alone. You have me.”

You chuckle tiredly. “No, you’ll find someone who is as big of an art geek as you are, and you’ll have lots of babies and grow old together. And I’ll be the kooky lady with 13 dogs who comes around every once in a while to give your children candy.”

Taehyung sets down his empty mug before settling into a comfortable position on the couch, his back against the cushions and his feet propped on the glass surface of the table in front of you. He reaches across the couch to hold your hand. He skirts around the part about the future love of his life.

“13? That’s a specific number,” he comments.

“I like Taylor Swift.”

You both laugh lightly at the reference. Days of badgering him about one of the greatest songwriters of our generation have finally paid off.

Silence envelopes the room for a moment as you both wander off in your own bubble of thought. Until Taehyung knocks his knee against yours and you both fall back into reality again.

“Did Jimin text you about the grand opening on Friday?”

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted october 24, 2022]