a/n: hello yes 911? i would like to cRY about this damn fucking ask because how on earth am i supposed to choose between these i’m in tears aaaaa this is an absolute mess i cannot function at all this is far too much to handle too many body parts i am a tiny human being
genre: bridgerton!au, regency era historical fiction, enemies to lovers, duke!bts x reader
warnings: historical inaccuracy
summary:y/n l/n was the most sought-after lady of this year’s social season. her beauty was unmatched, her wit far superior to those around her, her charm that of a descendent of royal blood. all these aspects of her made her the prize to be won in the spring of 1813. however, something nobody could have dreamt of for this year was the unexpected return of london’s seven most eligible bachelors, all of whom seemed to desire the diamond of the season.
word count: 3.7k
author’s note: i’m back babies!! i’ve finally finished all my finals and can get back to writing!! as a bit of an apology for being away for so long, this chapter is a bit of a double whammy!! it isn’t too lengthy but my hope is to improve on this eventually!!
Ambitious mamas rejoice, for the collection of stags continues to grace our fair city with their presence. And, oh, what an impressive presence it is!
It should be noted that several of these bachelors have been overheard announcing to mamas everywhere that they have no plans of ever marrying, including the two most sought of them all, the Duke of Hastings and the Duke of Wellington.
This author wonders what brazen matchmaker shall rise to such a challenge, for this competition is well underway.
In other news, a most peculiar turn of events has transpired with Miss L/N! Perhaps this author had misinterpreted the reasoning for her lack of gentlemanly suitors.
A rumored encounter with the Earl of Dartmouth himself had reached this author’s ever-listening ear, and such a moment ended with remarks vulgar in tone. Though these musings are only of speculation, it does leave this author to wonder if our precious yet obstinate diamond has jagged edges that may draw blood from those who dare to touch her.
You were not a particular enthusiast of the theatre, but even you had to admit that the Theatre Royal was a magnificent sight to behold. Created with only the finest white marble imported from the far off land of Italy, the theatre stood between St Martin’s Lane and Drury Lane with a splendor that could only be usurped by the royal palace itself.
Lighting fixtures lined the entrance, their candles flickering with ferocity as dozens of people entered the building. Dressed in their second-to-best attire- for the best was saved for only the most prestigious of parties- the members of the ton traipsed through the theatre in preparation for a concert the length of nearly three hours.
Despite not finding yourself too thrilled to sit through hours of sopranos in handmade costumes, you were also grateful for the reprieve from your home.
After returning from your promenade with Rose and a chance encounter with a loathsome hound, you had to share a carriage home with Benjamin who was as stubborn as you. This shared characteristic caused an awkward yet icy half hour spent in the enclosed space of your carriage.
Naturally, when your mother suggested a night in a place Benjamin couldn’t stand, you were all too eager.
She had also told you that an event without your brother might help in reviving what reputation you had left. Though this would prove to be much more difficult than simply attending a performance, for upon your arrival, you felt a weight attach itself to your chest.
Many eyes became transfixed on you in but a single moment. The moment after the initial shift of focus to you came the infamous whisper behind the hand. This whisper was followed by a distinguished laugh that was created to deceive anyone passing by into believing they were not speaking gossip.
You wished to turn around and allow yourself to resign to your room where no one could harm you, verbally or otherwise.
However, you refused to falter. If you just held your head high, refusing to look directly at those who deigned to gossip, perhaps you could make it through the night with your dignity still intact.
“Our box, Mama?” You suggested when noting your own discomfort.
Your mother hummed in agreement as you both made your way to the box the opera house gifted you for your late father’s donations. He always was such a devotee to the arts…
“Lady L/N!” Lady Seon called out to your mother. “Do join us!”
Lady Seon stood beside Her Majesty. You felt your stomach churn, flipping like an acrobat in hopes of making a shilling or two on the street. And your sudden increase in unease was not so unjustified, for the queen sent a gaze to her servants upon taking in your presence.
Your mother took hold of your hand. Her eyes were hopeful, yet you could not feel the same faith as she as you both made your way towards her. You both curtsied before her, a similar feeling to the day of your presentation filling you.
“Your Majesty, good evening,” Your mother greeted charmingly. “You must remember my daughter, Y/N.”
“Yes, she made quite the impression…” The queen spoke plainly. She turned to her secretary. “However fleeting it may have been.”
If your stomach had been spinning before, it was now completely halted. You felt as though a wave of hot embarrassment had washed over you, causing the temperature in your cheeks to rise. You watched in complete mortification as she moved towards her special box, not evening having the strength to curtsy once again.
Lady Seon, seemingly unfazed by such an event, turned towards you, speaking with dictate, “I would like to welcome you both to my box this evening. I insist.”
Lady Seon, while not of much title, was a woman who held an air of respect. For some, people offered a false regard due to her raising a duke and then letting six other hellions run rampant through her estate, and hoped that perhaps an alliance with her might increase their daughter’s chance at a fortunate marriage. For others, they simply feared being on the bad side of a woman who had enough gaul to speak up without fear of consequence.
You just knew her as a family friend, though. So accepting such an offer was only instinct.
Trailing behind Lady Seon and your mother who made light conversation as they walked up the stairs to the private boxes. You, however, strayed a bit behind. You could not help but let your eyes dance about the space, taking a simple joy in the marvel that the architecture provided.
Most of the walls were draped in red velvet curtains, as you assumed that what was underneath was nothing more than brick and mortar. Candelabras stood tall throughout the theater, allowing the patrons to make their way to the seats. No light could match that of the elegant chandelier that illuminated the room with its glistening crystals. It hung above the crowds, swaying slightly with the movement of nearly a hundred people flitting about the space. You wondered what a view might be like from such a height.
Though mere high ceilings and chandeliers could not keep the odd feelings that were festering in your mind at bay. It was an odd tickling at the back of your mind that was causing you some distress. The way others had stared at you only mere minutes ago was only what you could describe as a mocking child who would be scolded should their parent find them speaking so vilely.
Yet now, their eyes were a bit wide with surprise and said eyes followed you before flicking to Lady Seon, and then to her private box. It was as if they were stunned to see you walking behind Lady Seon despite having done so countless times before. What ever could be the reason for the quick change in attitude?
“Boys,” Lady Seon called. “I trust you recall Lady L/N?”
Oh.
Your mother curtsied, and her doing so gave you just enough of a view to see two heads of dark hair. The overwhelming sense of dread gave you no head start before it took hold of you.
“And you also must recall her daughter-”
“Miss L/N,” The voice that answered was deep, sultry, and one you hadn’t heard for quite some time.
Mama and Lady Seon moved in a departure that could rival that of the Red Sea in dramatics. In doing so, they revealed two figures whom you knew you would have to meet again- truly, were you running into these men on a timed schedule?- yet trembled at the thought.
Kim Seokjin, Earl of Scarborough, was the oldest of the seven and somehow the most mature yet immature of their bunch. He was always so loud, brandishing an air of chaos yet found the restrain to reel in the youngest of them.
In appearance, he hadn’t changed in the slightest. When he had left, he had already grown into himself. Much like his personality, everything about his facial features was big. From the fullness of his lips to the perfectly circular shape of his dark brown irises, every part of his face shouted at you with an inflated sense of grandeur.
Where Lord Kim exuded grandiosity, the Marquess of Hertford, Min Yoongi was adverse with an appearance of slight demeanor. His eyes were narrow, and they had always reminded you of a cat; slender and focused, always observing the things he was interested in while never giving second thought to the things he didn’t.
As mentioned prior, Lord Min was of a more reserved type. He did not smile often, but in the off chance he did, his thin lips would curl, revealing the pink gums that lay underneath. For now, though, he chose to give a closed-mouth simper as a means of greeting.
Once again finding yourself bound by society’s graces, you followed in your mother’s prior movement. You muttered out a greeting, but a disguised swat at your arm from your mother elicited a louder acknowledgement.
“Lord Kim, Lord Min,” You addressed. “How… surprising it is to see you.”
“Miss L/N,” Lord Kim beamed. “You have grown so much since we last met!”
Lord Kim, though not much older than you where a few flirtatious remarks would be deemed inappropriate. Though, in truth, nothing a man did could ever be labeled as such, especially where there were no standards or age restrictions for courtships.
However, had there been, you had doubts that it would stop such behavior from Lord Kim. Known to be ever the philanderer, nearing a title of “rakehall,” Lord Kim would often partake in the teasing of ladies who had the misfortune of entering his vicinity. So despite the words he spoke seeming to be nothing more than a mere observation, you could ascertain that they were layered with jest.
"I cannot say the same for you. You both appear as if you had not even left… what a pity.” You smirked.
“Y/N, please-” Your mama spoke through gritted teeth in what was supposed to be a smile.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Miss L/N,” Lord Min said with a face of stone. Some things rarely ever change.
“Yes,” You nodded stiffly. “A pleasure indeed.”
Your mother and Lady Seon had taken seats in the row behind Lord Kim and Lord Min, yet there were only two in that row. You felt a prick of annoyance but made no action to request for a change of order. If you were to sit beside one twit, you would at least do it with a shred of decorum.
Lord Kim and Lord Min had appeared to have other plans in store for you. There were three seats closest to the stage, and in some attempt at getting a rise out of you, Lord Min and Lord Kim had decided to fill the seats on each end, leaving the only remaining in the center.
You liked to think yourself a rather patient person when simple vexations were placed before you. Yet this was no simple vexation. This seemed too deliberate to be a coincidence, especially where these men were concerned.
You had standards for yourself, and you would not go quietly in this silent battle between yourself and them.
“Lord Kim,” You sighed as kindly as you could when faced with two humanized donkeys. “Would you be ever the gentleman and perhaps allow me to sit in your seat?”
“Forgive me, but I do quite enjoy this particular seat.” He was not forgiven in the slightest.
You were not sure what you should have expected. Even so, you were not going to allow them the satisfaction of seeing you cause a fuss over a simple seating arrangement. You lowered yourself to sitting between two unlicked cubs who would no doubt make teasing conversation with you on the subject of this unfortunate event.
You were gracious that the opera was starting. The roar of violas and cellos and any instrument you could envision kept their venomous tongues sealed within their mouths. If this continued for, say, the next three hours, perhaps you would title yourself a lover of the theater after all.
“So, Miss L/N,” Lord Kim prompted after a near fifteen minutes of contented silence. “How have you been these past two years? The season treating you well?”
It was a question that must have had a tier of mockery to it. Anyone with eyesight and the capability to read was aware that you were not faring well. Even if they were above reading Lady Whistledown as you wished you could be, it would only require a functioning ear to know that you were nearly off the marriage market.
Even if lying was an act you did not enjoy partaking in, you thought it best for your ego to bite your tongue on the truth of the matter. “I suppose it has. Though I do suppose it would not be treating me kindly now that I am in your presence.“
Your mama seemed to be invested in conversation with Lady Seon, leaving you a grateful woman. She had not overheard your attempted injury to Lord Kim and Lord Min’s pride. Perhaps it were the only part of this excursion that was tolerable.
“Ah, yes,” Lord Min drawled. “The others did say you were as feisty as ever. Perhaps you have not grownas much as we once assumed.”
Lord Min was in no way referring to height as Lord Kim had before. You had no doubt that he was referring to your level of maturity. True, you did not do much in your youth to filter your thoughts when with the seven of them. In that category, very little has changed. However, this gave them no right to speak on matters they knew nothing about!
You scoffed resentfully, “I can assure you that I have grown, as it were, much more than you believe. You cannot make such judgements after being away for so long! And I would ask of you to refrain from speaking of me in private, my lords. I find those who speak of others when they are unaware have the worst things to say.”
“Ah, just how little do you think of us, Miss L/N?”
“Very.” You rolled your eyes.
“I fear that is rather hypocritical of you, Miss L/N,” Lord Min remarked. “Was it not you who spoke of me without my knowledge only early in the day? I cannot recall Jimin’s exact words… What had he said again, Seokjin?”
“I believe he said that Miss L/N believed you would find ‘dismal demeanor’ to be attractive. Rather a nasty thing to proclaim so naturally. Am I correct in that belief, Miss L/N?” Lord Kim spoke with an impish grin.
You felt your face grow hot with embarrassment. You were caught, that much you knew and were not stupid enough to combat. You really should have known that Park Jimin would keep on his promise of informing Lord Min of your words said in passing with Rose. The scoundrel he was…
Because you were found out, you decided to lift your theater binoculars to your eyes so that you might avoid further interrogation into your hypocrisy. Save for a few mumbles of irritation, you remained mute as to focus on the scene before you. As fate would have it, you were not to entirely focus on such a thing.
“If you must know, Miss L/N,” You felt the whisper of his breath fan across the bareness of your neck. The sudden puff of air against your skin made you flinch, and such a vulnerable action made your already burning cheeks feel as though they were lit ablaze. “I do not find myself particularly enamored by ladies with a dreary countenance. They tend to be rather… boring.”
You could not see him, but you knew that he must have been close to your face for the warmth of his breath to hit you as it had. In knowing this, you refused to tear your magnified gaze away from the dark-haired woman belting arias from the stage. You would not allow him the satisfaction.
“I shall store such information in my memory,” You grumbled. “Hopefully it will be of the short-term.”
“Should you wish to hear what ladies do charm him?” Lord Kim questioned.
“Should I be privy to such information, Lord Kim?” You crossed, finally removing your glasses.
Not even a moment later and you wished you had remained stagnant. You wished to glare at his lordship, but found your face hardened in a flustered distinction.
You had accounted for Lord Min being relatively close to your person, yet you had not done the same for Lord Kim. His voice had not protruded your space as Lord Min’s did, so when you went to confront him, you were completely struck dumb to see him mere inches from your face.
You concluded that Lady Seon and your mother must have been deep in discussion, for any chaperone of a decent caliber would never allow such proximity between two single people, especially with one being a young lady like yourself.
That knowledge made you cripple with worry, for these boxes, though deemed private, were anything but. You surmised that people were already talking when they realized you were to be seated with the two.
Your only solace that this moment would not be seen as intimacy as merely as three people making conversation was that whispering to others during performances was not so uncommon. You desired to share in their blissful ignorance, yet fate did not seem to favor you this day.
“May you please remove yourself from my space, Lord Kim?” You asked
“I may,” He said plainly. “I also may not.” Once again, you were unsure as to why you even asked him politely.
“You are intolerable.”
“What you can and cannot tolerate is of no concern to me.”
“If you believe yourself to be endearing, you are misguided in your beliefs.”
You decided to take matters into your own hands. You slumped into your seat in a rather unladylike fashion. You thought it would work to slip away from their close proximity, but Lord Kim had followed suit in your slouch. Lord Min merely chuckled at your frustration.
“You have no shame,” You spat. “Both of you.”
“Living life with shame makes for a rather miserable life, you know.” Yoongi stated.
“Yes, well,” You scowled at him. “It is rather easy to live without shame when there are few shameful moments in your life to plague you. Some of us have to bear such burdens.”
They seemed to understand your words faster than you did. Their sudden lack of confidence and newfound silence was jarring to you until you discerned what you said that might cause such a shift. It seemed that today was just filled with constant reminders…
What have you done?
The echo of Lord Kim’s past words bounced about your mind before being washed away with the crash of symbols and plucking of violin strings. You focused on the music, yet even a symphony could keep you from a quick travel through your most suppressed memories.
You felt an itch on your arm.
“The alto is rather pitchy.” Lord Kim noted.
“As is the mezzo.” Lord Min agreed.
“The soprano is rather nice.” You mentioned.
"I have wonderful news, dearest,” Your mother spoke giddily as you boarded your carriage for the night.
The rest of the concert was spent in relative silence save for a few comments here and there. It seemed that your allusion to the past had made Lord Kim and Lord Min uncomfortable enough to spare you from further torment.
Still, you had been spent, exhaustion seeping into your skin and through your blood so that every muscle was heavy. You had not realized how tense you had been the entire night until you were seated in an environment that didn’t require you to be on guard.
“Hmm?” You hummed.
“I have secured you a suitor for the Salisbury ball tomorrow night!”
“That’s nice…” You murmured, too fatigued to connect the dots together.
“Excellent, I am glad that you agree!” Your mother smiled. “We shall meet the Duke upon our arrival.”
Your once relaxed muscles become rigid in a single moment. You sat straighter, your heart picking up in pace. “W-What?”
You felt as though you were going to be sick. Surely your mother could not have meant Kim Namjoon was to accompany you to such a public event! Unless… unless it were not he that she was referring to… If it were not, surely that could not have meant…
“T-The Duke of… um, Hastings?” Your own voice was failing you, stammers and stutters that you never dealt with before.
“No, dearest,” She replied. You felt your muscles regain the tension it held in the previous hours at this response. You had prayed that her next words would be different, yet they were just as you feared. “Jeon Jungkook, the Duke of Wellington has apparently shown an interest in you! As is the Baron Kim, dearest! We’re to attend a brunch with him and Lady Seon before the festivities! Oh, Y/N, isn’t this just wonderful?”
Wonderful.
Wonderful.
You would have chosen a much angrier word. A word that could convey how utterly sick to your stomach you felt knowing that you would have to hold Jeon Jungkook’s hand once again. You felt as though there was no word in the English lexicon that could convey every sweltering emotion racking your body.
The argument rested on your tongue with bitterness and the scorch of burning, like if someone poured a cup of coffee onto it. You wished to scream, to cry, to know that with the sword her majesty gave you not long ago, you could continue to fight without diving to such depths. And yet…
You had not seen such a glimmer in your mother’s eyes for days. Much like yourself, your mother had felt the burden of your predicament. For so long, it felt like despair and a bleak future was all that was ahead of you. This was the first time you’d seen even a sparkle of hope in the eyes that so resembled yours.
What have you done?
Rain tapped at the carriage window. You hated the rain. “Yes… I am so… very excited, Mama.”
a/n:one blue raspberry bang energy drink later… and the sky is now bright. please forgive the errors if you see any, i am fatigued
You knew three things about Park Jimin. In order, he was, despite all, a very kind man. Secondly, he was the devil and thirdly, which Jimin himself insisted to be true, was that he was in love with you.
•type: Jimin x reader • rating: SFW • w/c:6.3k•main masterlist
•genre/about: fluff, friends? to lovers? very much romantic vs. emotionally constipated feat. adulthood feat. extremely pining Jimin because when the guy is the pining one is peak intellect fight me, the reader has specific zodiac placements but other than that nothing bodily wise is mentioned
•c/w: mentioned attempt to coerce someone into drug abuse, mention of past eating disorder, discussion of self-image issues, mildly suggestive
•a/n: was just rifling through my drafts and remembered this was a thing. I liked it even though it’s unfinished and kinda sappy
There were three things that needed to be known about Park Jimin, was what Tilla told you while you had jogged to meet her boyfriend’s roommate. In order: he was a Libra Sun, Gemini Moon, and Cancer Rising, which can all be summarised in one category - he was incredibly flirty. Though Tilla insisted she had already said Libra Sun whatever that meant and that there was no other, literally no other, bar for her Namjoonie, that was as ethereal as Jimin. Those were the things that preceded his fine name - good looking to an insane degree and flirty. Hence why when you had glimpsed the top of his bleached head, you had already swerved hard left then and remained the only one from the clash of two social circles - Namjoon’s and Tilla’s - as an absolute mystery.
Tilla once again insisted that she had alreadymade everyone aware of your Scorpio Sun status…whatever the hell that meant.
Now, some years, not a lot but some years gone, you knew three more accurate things about Park Jimin. In order, he was, despite all, a very kind man. Really, not even being an eternal sceptic -
“It’s that Capricorn Moon of yours, I’m telling you,” Tilla declared, passionately waving around a fork and accidentally sending a piece of egg flying into Namjoon’s face who was unsuspectingly sitting by the neighbouring cafeteria table. A victim in many cases. That’s how they met actually.
- not even being an eternal sceptic, could sway that despite the occasional, human hiccup, Park Jimin was an attentive and caring man. Secondly, he was the devil.
As you had gawked at the suggestive photo of him, grabbing his crotch, long tongue poking at the corner of his full lips, the entire shebang and acknowledging that he made that sort of lewd act look artistic, you knew that Park Jimin was an ocean if not the whole world of hurt. When you confronted him over the group breakfast, why would he ever send such a thing, he had only smirked over a cup of orange juice and after innocently fluttering his eyelashes, asked whatever did you mean. Of course, not five minutes after another picture had followed.
All of that could be ignored, pushed, shoved, burned and forgotten. If not for the third thing.
The third thing which Jimin himself had insisted to be true.
Which is that he was in love with you.
You wake up one day and you’re an adult. An adult with bills to pay and taxes to be deducted. You work away in a job you don’t like but don’t dare to change because unemployment is no joke and you live in a studio apartment too small that costs too much and is not in any shape or form of any resemblance to the appealing pictures of the white and green variety found on Instagram. Your socks have holes and your shoes let in water when it rains too hard. You’re so very lonely but you’ve given up on the dating scene because the fear of being messed up, being damaged is too great. Dating is hard. Opening up to people is hard.
There is very little romance to be found while you wander on a path that feels like a wrong choice but you don’t want to think about it too hard yet because what if you had messed up and what if you will end up exactly like hundreds of others, figures in the disgruntled mass, all chasing a dream that maybe didn’t even exist.
It’s all very bleak.
Except for Saturdays.
Saturdays are these nice little blankets of comfort where nice things are possible, given, of course, that you spend money on them but that doesn’t matter. You can sleep in, then tuck the sheets that need a wash, over the bed and grabbing only your wallet to name, venture out into the city. You’ve got your tote bag, because nowadays everyone has them and you stroll, briefly careless, underneath the sun. And then you can get a coffee of your choice and an overpriced something that the barista swears their soul for and you can sit and dream in the plushy chairs of the ambient little coffee shop.
It’s as near to perfection as you can get.
If not for Park fucking Jimin.
You’re not a university student anymore and you’re far from high school, all the romantic nonsense of meet-cute, friend of a friend and such are well over, you’re simply too old for it. It must be some ultra ironic twist of fate for him to look into the shop window just at the moment when you look out. He freezes mid-step and meets your gaze, recognizing you, well because…because supposedly he was in love with you.
It was a damp July night and cicadas were in a full shriek all around the small meadow. You passively watch from the sidelines as Namjoon and Tilla sway together, completely in their own world. Namjoon had gone through your immaculately designed trials and tribulations from hell and made it through with passable grades. And in spite of the habitual threats of emasculating him with a corkscrew and the rather deep resentment for their romance, you are, in the end, happy for these two baboons and hold your fingers crossed that they will not contribute to the divorce rates and instead be one of those couples, farting next to each other in their old. Or whatever the fuck they did.
You guard your champagne like it’s a lifeline because holy hell Yoongi was snorting that shit by the litres and you salute quietly to yourself - to the end of an era.
But… but Jimin is also there. Jimin was…complicated. For you, at least. He’s looking at you. He was always looking at you but it never quite grows into being creepy. It’s simply peculiar by now but it’s been already four years since you were begrudgingly introduced to each other and you’ve made peace with being in his focus.
He outdid himself this evening. Absolutely stunning visuals from Mr Park. It’s just an objective fact, you think to yourself.
“I like you,” he suddenly says, the light breeze ruffling his hair.
You laugh awkwardly but Jimin doesn’t.
“Uh…I like you too.”
“No, no,” he shakes his head. “I’m in love with you.”
After a stilted pause, he continues.
“Strange, isn’t it?” his smile seems bizarrely self-conscious. “To be in love?”
What do you say when such a thing is just dropped upon you with no warning whatsoever?
“Guess so.”
Well, probably not that.
Jimin left quickly after. Went on the world tour or whatever models did and you don’t see him anymore.
Usually, the confession meant the end of the movie, the culmination of the plot, the beginning of the happy ever after but this was real life and as such there was nothing, just the fearful pondering of what could have been better and self-congratulatory pats of what was avoided. He becomes a voice in your head, forever confusing you as to why would he say such a thing and a distantly familiar face printed on the covers of laminated, high-end magazines.
Yes, all the cuteness, all the cliche romance is over. But if you believed them, which you didn’t, but if you did, then the image of Park Jimin bounding towards you with a smile so wide his eyes did the thing of narrowing into thin lines, would be the only one who’d fit the scenarios.
“Hello, stranger,” he beamed, hooking off the mask and advancing forward with great speed and agility. It was that grace of an unceasing charmer. Cancer Rising. Whatever that meant. You scamper upwards, weighing between a hand wave or a nod of the head and then you’re left standing still as Jimin hugs you. Not a casual press against the side hug but a bone-crushing, enveloping-you-fully-until-all-you-smell-is-my-cologne type of hug. The breed of which you’ve missed dearly.
It takes him a while, a couple of wags from left and right, to step back and look you over. As he’s smiling wide you focus on that one crooked tooth in his mouth. A one, neat little flaw to remind you and everyone else that he was, in fact, a human being but unfortunately this was Park Jimin and even his flaws were at their worst merely endearing.
“You look lovely,” he praises and you clear your throat. Did he have to be so sincere about it?
“You too. Though you must hear it often.”
He inclines his head.
“I like to hear it from you. Thank you.”
You hum, glancing down at your occupied seat. Jimin does too.
“May I join?” he asks.
“Sure.”
You meant to say no. Did you? Did you really? There’s nothing wrong with talking a bit with Jimin, right? Catch up? He wasa friend of a friend, anyway.
And also the guy who was in love with you.
Okay.
Alright.
Like that makes sense.
He pulls the chair and nestles into it, running his hands through his hair. You had seen nearly all the colours of the rainbow on his head. How he had even a scalp to hold onto, the world may never know.
“How have you been?”
“….I’ve been here.”
He gives a gracious laugh. Jimin was always so quick to laugh.
“And is it nice here?”
You glimpse outside.
“Not really.“
He chuckles again. It must be the condensation from all the coffee making. The shop was getting quite toasty.
"What about you? What have you been doing?”
You fetch Jimin his matcha latte, declining his offer to pay back.
“Worked nonstop, pretty much,” he shrugs. “I went on a runway once, but I stopped doing it when I developed an eating disorder and my manager suggested to do cocaine.”
You are left sitting with your mouth wide open like a fool.
Jimin’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at such a thing. Like it wasn’t fucked up as all shit that it happened.
“I’m better now though. Kicked that piece of shit away.“
Everyone knew that everyone had self-image issues. That was the selling point, it was profitable for even the objectively perfect to be doubtful of themselves and spend thousands and thousands on diet pills, form-fitted clothes, alternative "healthier” eating which was the same look-obsessed culture now rebranded itself as wellness. Yes, you comprehended that but it didn’t make it any less unbelievable to hear someone like Jimin, Park the motherfucking Jimin, openly reveal that he didn’t like how he looked.
He curiously watches your brain gear and error over and over again.
“Don’t apologise if that’s what you want to do?” he laughs, quietly, shyly, like he’d done something wrong. “It’s not your fau-”
“I just think that’s an atrocious fucking horseshit,” your mouth runs on auto-pilot because your brain is lacking. It was never a good combination.
“What is?”
“For anyone to ever think you’re not beautiful.”
Unbeknownst to you, Jimin blushes bright red because it’s the brutal honesty in your tone that truly does him in. He was used to the saccharine compliments that seeped like poison from strangers’ mouths, designed to reel in and it never failed to sicken him. But he still found enjoyment in hearing the odd little praises if they came from you. You who had no ulterior motive. Oh, how he knew about the lack of any motives. Truth be told just fifteen minutes ago he had yelled at himself “enough!”. But all the attempts to forget you had boarded a plane, flew to the Himalayas and tossed themselves from the highest peak the moment he glanced at you through the window. Not even he himself quite understood this thing he had for you. What he did know was that he hated matcha latte but never had the heart to correct you so he suffered through it the times that you got it for him. And that was perhaps more of an insight than he could ever explain to others or to himself.
“And to…to suggest drugs? What the fuck is wrong with these people?” you snarl, gripping your coffee cup with pulverising strength, briefly wondering why Jimin winced. Did he not like the coffee? He had never complained before…
“Don’t know,” he replied casually, “I didn’t stick around to ask.”
“That’s good. Are you..are you actually fine, though? Or are you doing your thing of lying to not seem like a burden?”
He smirked mirthlessly.
“I’m actually fine. Dealt with it.”
You leaned back into the chair with a heavy sigh.
“So, how’s Joontill?”
You snort.
“Enjoying the fine Australian weather.”
Jimin frowns in confusion and you mirror his expression.
“They’re in Australia right now?”
“Well, yeah. Namjoon got that internship at Murdoch University. They’re doing some kind of study about the Coral Reef. Tilla is finding herself on a new spiritual journey. Something about crystals.“
More than once, you had looked at Tilla and Namjoon and thought that there were more commonalities between a tiger and a cockatoo than those two. Nevertheless, the two weirdos persisted in their mutual obsession with each other.
“I knew that, it’s just…I was meaning to stay here for a while and they offered me their place to stay until I found my own.”
“Maybe they left you a key in a mailbox or something,” you ponder.
“Oh, yes, truth is indeed stranger than fiction. I’m settling down here. Since I’m not doing runways anymore, I applied for a place in a local fashion and lifestyle magazine. I’m done chasing the glory,” he exhaled snidely, eyes momentarily darkening at what clearly were fractures of some sour memories.
“That’s nice,” you lightly remark, careful not to prod at anything still aching. “What will you be doing?”
“Writing, editing, maybe modelling,” he took a sip of the coffee, flinching again.
He must hate it, so why was he still drinking it?
“Sort of jack-of-all-trades help.”
Both of you agree that it’s a needed start over. Seemingly only minutes pass but then the barista reminds you that they’ll be closing in fifteen minutes.
Dishes of pastries have piled all around and when you look outside, with a stiff neck and even stiffer backside to your surprise the sky has turned dark. Unavoidably, like all good things did, Saturday had come to its inevitable end. The air is fresh and cool outside and your cheeks glisten with unexplainable heat. Jimin stretches with a smile, whining at the sore muscles. The lights of the nearby fruit vendors starkly remind you of Joontill’s wedding night and so, still operating on a basic instinct of speaking first - thinking never, the question rips out of you whilst lingering in each other’s presence.
“Do you still like me?”
Jimin, who was in the middle of saying goodbye, freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. He stands like that for a moment and then smiles as though you were sharing some private joke.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, I still do.”
“Scorpio venus,” Tilla enunciated like you were not getting some rudimentary piece of common knowledge. “If he’s making eyes at you, you’re doomed, sis.”
You put the powder brush away with a sigh. All you asked was did she knew why that Jimin guy had been gawking at you at her boyfriend’s party.
“Ain’t your boy-toy the same house?”
“Those are placements, not houses,“ Tilla amended, hanging upside down on the bed, lollipop sticking out of her mouth. "And yes, Joonie -”
“Joonie,” you scoffed.
“- is also Scorpio venus. How do you think I know I’ll get my guts rearranged this night andtomorrow morning?”
You crinkle your nose in disgust.
“Gross.”
“I’ll be going now,” he sighs and it is mind-boggling to you how he does that. Confesses and then proceeds life as normal. Most people would be digging themselves in a ditch, you first and foremost, but not Mr Park. He had told you twice already that he fancied you and then simply left.
You bite discreetly on your lip. What would happen if you would cast everything aside? Take him by the hand and lead away? Well, the thing would be is that he would probably fall out of love the moment you’d fall into it. That’s why there was the term “timing”. Time was a precarious thing and often changed with every passing wind. And you were well aware of how painful it’d be to actually fall in love with Park Jimin. You had been dancing on that edge for years now and as such had tethered nicely to the side of inactivity. Even if you found out that loitering around him in person made you irrationally want to kiss him.
As you part, each walking in your own separate directions, you think of being so sneaky by waiting until the very last second to glimpse back at him. Just once. But as you do, you find that to his credit, Jimin was, as before, already looking.
“Shut the fuck up,” you growl not even bothering to lift your head from the pillow. Tilla doesn’t have to say anything. That smarmy, annoying little face of hers does more than words ever could.
“I did not speak!“ she objects but with a tint of amusement. The weird subject of you and Jimin had entertained her for years with no signs of stopping. Behind her, there sprawls the beautiful vistas of the Australian sea, the sun high in the sky while outside you can perhaps glance at a faint glimmer of stars aimlessly wandering through space.
"Oh, I do wish you would just seize the bull by the horns. Jimin’s fine enough of a stallion and by rumours -”
“Don’t you dare to discuss Jimin’s dick out loud!”
Somewhere outside of the camera comes Namjoon’s grumbling threat. When Tilla points her phone at him, he’s found with a toothbrush lodged in his mouth, tugging his shorts over his ass.
Unfortunately not an unseen sight.
“I’ve got eyes only for you, babe.“
"Liar, liar, tiny thong on fire,” he throws her a stormy glare. “You were thirsting over those surfers all day. I know.”
“Oh, you do? Why don’t you come here and punish me then.”
“Please, I beg of you, there’s only so much vomit I can project!” you interrupt, physically gagging at the unfolding scene.
Tilla merely rolled her eyes and you try not to ponder too much on the fact that judging from the peculiar angle one of her hands must be tied to the bed.
“But back to you, listen, I know it may be hard to believe, only for you of course, but Jimin is still carrying a massive fucking torch for you. If you don’t do anything, that flame will go out.”
“So? Wonderful! I want it to go out!“
Tilla’s eyes soften.
"Babe…”
You shake your head once more.
“No, don’t pity me.“
"I’m not pitying you! It’s just that it’s not really a plan - to move to Alberta, adopt seventeen dogs, go insane one night and then die from hypothermia while streaking outside, after which your dogs feast on your decomposing flesh.”
You regard her with a raised brow.
“Why ever not? I’ve spent my entire life with that plan.“
Tilla sighed leaning back into the pillows. Her wrist was indeed locked in a pair of fuzzy, pink handcuffs.
“You know you are capable of love, right?”
“I’ve loved you my entire life,“ you are quick to agree.
"And Namjoon.”
“Doubtful.“
Tilla smirks and Namjoon groans somewhere in the distance.
"Know your place, boy-toy,” you bark at him. “I was here first.”
“She was,” Tilla interjects, pointing one solemn finger off the camera. At this point, Namjoon mutters something about “women” and exits stage left.
“You know I’m not saying you should jump Jimin because he’s gorgeous and nice and has the hots for you-”
“That’s exactly what you’re saying.”
“No, well, maybe a little bit, but it’s fine if you reject him because you don’t like him or because you know you won’t regret it. But do you remember Katie?”
Could you ever forget the little wench who’d stolen your purple, fuzz covered purse bedazzled with the words “icon”? It was a vicious and unjust crime that took weeks to get over.
“Do you not regret punching her in the face that day she came to school with your bag?”
Of course, you did. Being a seven-year-old who had not yet hit a growth spurt such as yourself, Katie then seemed so invincible and tall. But now as an adult, having the sage wisdom and knowledge that one famed day you’ll knock out not one, but two dudes of senior class when they tried to pocket your hard-earned money, you deeply mourned the fact that you hadn’t given her the knuckle sandwich that heinous skank clearly deserved.
“My point is, don’t let Jimin be another Katie. You’re so bitter already, god knows, we don’t need you to be any grouchier in your old.”
“Ha ha ha,” you mock her dryly but deep down you knew she was right. It was that mutated, single-celled organism called a brain you both shared like any other friendship that lasted longer than most marriages. “Anyway, I’m surprised you let him stay over. You’re usually so twitchy about anyone touching your stuff.”
Tilla frowned and a sickly squirming feeling rose in your stomach.
“I didn’t? What are you talking about?”
“Jimin said that until he’ll find his own place, he’ll stay at yours. Went to look for the spare key and everything.”
She shot upright in terror.
“Namjoon! NaMJOONIE!”
Immediately, the doors burst open.
“What happened? Are you hurt? Are you alright?!”
“Did we actually say “yes” when Jimin called us about staying over?!“
"I did say "yes”,“ comes his bashful voice. "But I didn’t mean it for him! I meant it for you, considering what we were in the middle of…”
These horny amoebas.
“You picked up the phone when you were having sex?!”
Tilla graciously ignores your outrage.
“Do we have any spare keys?”
“Of course, not. It’s unsafe.”
If group chat messages were true, then Yoongi moved back to Korea three months ago and Hoseok had left across the country to finally finish his degree in contemporary dance, that means -
A ring by the door.
- that you were the only one in the city that Jimin was familiar with.
You and Tilla exchange glances and slowly, annoyingly slowly, upon reaching the same conclusion as you, she blossoms into a broad smirk. When you rip open the door, the phone still in hand, you find Jimin there, knuckles suspended in the air, clearly not expecting the eager welcome.
“So, a funny thing -”
“JIMIN!! HELLO!” comes a scream from down your thigh.
“Oh, hello, Tilla!” he leans down to wave at her, smiling brightly. “You seem to not have left me a spare key, Mrs Kim-Hogen.”
“Uh, yeah,” Tilla glances nervously to the side where no doubt guilty Namjoon was hiding outside the camera. “Well, you know Joon, all butterfingers.”“
"Or skilled fingers. Are those handcuffs I see?”
As he was leaning down, a chain previously tucked underneath Jimin’s shirt falls out. It sways in the air, back and forth and you have this small but really rather intrusive thought. Would it sway like this in your face when he’s on top of you? The thought vanishes with an aggressive shake of the head.
“Why yes, they are,” Tilla purrs. “Whoever said that long-lasting relationships are a drag needs to find themselves a better partner. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Don’t you forget it, angel!”
“Oh, I’m nothing if not a hopeless romantic, Mrs Kim-Hogen,” and with that chain still dangling, he has the absolute gall to look up and meet your gaze. “Just my person’s quite stubborn.”
No. You’re not doing this.
“Okay, well that’s enough of that,“ you huff.
“WAIT NO! There’s so much I want to ask him! What happened to the fashion show? What happened with Mi-Ran? Are you settling dOWN JUST FOR-”
You smack the phone shut, tired of serving as a tripod so these two gossipy bitches could discuss their sexcapades. No, you did not want to hear any of the details of what they both got up to, thank you very much. The thought alone left a sour taste in your mouth. The phone is tossed on the sofa. It bounces back and falls onto the floor.
Naturally.
Jimin crosses his arms behind his back.
“So,” he begins awkwardly.
“So,” you echo.
It’s weird. You’re strangers but not really. You’re sweethearts but not even close. You’re friends but were you?
It’s all so very odd.
“I understand if you don’t want me to crash here but on the off chance, if you say yes, may I ask?”
Smooth. He has engaged the Libra as Tilla would say.
“Yes,” you dumbly answer, without hesitation gripping the door in a panic. You did not just agree to it.
Jimin too seems shocked. His eyes are wide and his mouth is falling slightly open. There’s that crooked tooth again.
“Yes? Wait, yes, as in, I can ask or yes as in…” he exhales a shaky breath. “As in I can stay with you?”
“Yes, you can stay with me,” you drawl. No, that was not what the shards of brain masquerading themselves as an intellect told you to say. You were meant to say that you’re truly sorry and you wish you could but the space is simply too small to allow another person in. But as such you say neither of those words, the sentiment coming from your mouth is quite the opposite.
“You sure?” he clarifies and you roll your eyes.
“Do you want to stay on the street? Because one more -”
“No, no,” Jimin laughs, hastily waving his hands. He’s practically glowing and you turn to look away. “I’d rather stay here, thanks.”
“Well, then, come on in.”
He shuffles inside and you note the lack of baggage. He also didn’t have any in the coffee shop. The only thing he carried was an unassuming shoulder bag thrown over his shoulder.
“Chanel?” you point at it, with an arched eyebrow as he shimmies through the small hallway, trying to shrug his jacket off.
“What? Oh, no, an airport at…Berlin, I think. It’s hard to keep track of all the places I was.” Showoff. “Why Chanel specifically?” he grunts, kicking his shoes off. It’s only by a miracle that you have spare slippers available. They were fuzzy and adorned with large cows but he’ll have to suck it up. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even bat an eye.
“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply after a moment. “I just thought that Chanel was your outbreak.”
A teasing smile is back on his face and you turn your back on it, switching on the overhead lamps in the living room.
“Hmm, I wonder how you knew that.”
“…Tilla told me,” you stubbornly refute, peering into your fridge to offer as a snack.
“And not those magazines on the table?”
Your eyes snap to the offending objects, recalling that underneath the odd bill and notebook, there did sit a varied collection of Jimin’s faces. Harper’s Bazaar, L'Officiel Hommes. Pieces he knew you had no interest in. When drunk on a political debate night one night, you’d sparred with Namjoon for about thirty minutes about how journals like these were nothing but laminated drivel and the fact that they were grey was just about the only thing that differentiated them from yellow pages.
“Wrong subscription,“ you brush away and Jimin chuckles while taking in your house.
His eyes are wide and his gaze curious. With a reminiscent smile, he inspects your diplomas, most of which he was there to witness in the audience. You remembered, when you got your honorary diploma, the so-called summa cum laude, after long hours and tears and breakdowns. He had been the loudest to cheer you on. So loud, he, in fact, beat not only your entire family and Tilla combined but also made himself noticeable in the eyes of the university choir’s leader. Your classmates had teased you on and on about what supportive boyfriend you had and you were so happy that day the distinction didn’t seem worth pointing out. Your hands tighten around the fruit plate. Had he…liked you already then? No, impossible! Impossible. Wasn’t he dating someone around that time? Christine? Magnus? Rosa? You couldn’t even recall. The point was, there wasn’t a day in university Jimin’s life that was spent in a bed unwarmed. You smack the plate perhaps a tad harsher on the table than strictly necessary.
Jimin giggles on the side. Despite much of your protests, Tilla had hung up some of the childhood polaroids you both shared, making for rather nostalgic, albeit embarrassing mementos.
"Oh, my God, look at those cheeks,” he coos, pointing at a five-year-old you, wrenched in a tin foil spacesuit. The combined result of watching both E.T. and Back to the Future a day before the “what do you want to be” theme day in the kindergarten.
“And the pigtails! This is gold. I must capture this!” he pulls out his phone and before you can throw something sharp in his direction, the mortifying embarrassment is already stored in his gallery.
“You share that to the group chat and I’ll-”
“-emasculate me?” he finishes. “Yes, I know. I think you’ve threatened to do that over a hundred times and yet here I stand - still endowed.”
“Don’t test your luck, Park,” you growl, arranging the final orange slices. “Any day now. It could happen any day now.”
He snickers and sits down by the table.
“I like your home,“ he says, swaying a bit. "But why is it so small?”
“Oh, I’m trying to save up as much as I can. This place already costs an arm and a leg. Hard to imagine what bigger spaces would rip off.“
Jimin pops a grape in his mouth.
“True.”
“Do you want ramen, perhaps?“
He tilts his head.
"As a food, not as a pickup line,” you threaten him with a knife that was used to cut the oranges. Jimin quickly tugs it aside.
“Sure. I’m just wondering since when did you get so nice? Did you miss me, perhaps?” he clicks his tongue and leans in with a mischievous smile illuminating his face.
“Don’t say nonsense,” you snap back but you did. Just a little tiny bit. Sometimes. On the oddest of days.
While the water boils you get down to business.
“There is only the couch that you can sleep on. It’s a pull-out, but still a little small overall. You’re okay with that?”
“I’m okay with a pull out though I much prefer the keep in method,” he wiggles his eyebrows while leaning against the countertop. You push past it.
“As you can see there’s not much to explore. The door on the left there is the bathroom, door on the right just this weird storage space. Any questions?”
“You’ve got a partner?”
You close your eyes and exhale rather dramatically.
“Say goodbye to your penis, Jimin,” you grimly mutter and move towards him with a melon scooper clutched tightly between fingers. He rushes backwards, laughing.
“I’ll take it as a no,” he blurts out, looking too unconcerned for someone whose life hinged on the kindness of your rotten soul. “It’s just so I would know what to do if someone rushes here while I’m there naked on the sofa.”
The water boils and you pour the packet into it, stirring absent-mindedly with Jimin’s eyes locked on the back of your skull.
“And, of course, so I would know whether or not I’m free to seduce you.”
You drop the seasoning into the water.
“What makes you think you can seduce me?” you casually reply, fishing out the plastic. “It hasn’t worked in all the years we’ve known each other.”
He crosses his palms underneath the chin, appearing for a second misleadingly angelic.
“Yes, but I wasn’t really trying then. All in all, it’s getting quite pathetic on my end to pine you after all these years."
It’s just the steam from the pot, it’s just the steam from the pot, that’s why my face is so warm, you tell yourself.
"So I’ll take this opportunity to be straightforward with you.”
You really didn’t need for him to be any more straightforward. He already confessed - twice! - what was there even left to do?
“And if you’re not my girlfriend/my wife/my fiance by the end of this, I guess…" he trails off into silence. The humour in his voice had drained and you find yourself fearing the end of that sentence. As much as you would prefer Jimin not to waste his time on you, ultimately and with no little amount of heinous selfishness it would still sting to have these feelings be lost. You let out a small groan.
Make up your mind woman, you scold yourself, let him go if he wants to go. Yes, it’s for the best. You and Jimin were simply incompatible. Worse than being two opposite magnets, you were brown and he was blue, mixing them together would just make a sludge, a neither that nor this colour which was both dull and unusable for any self-respecting artwork. Some people could be the opposite and meshed well, green and blue, Tilla and Namjoon, some, you and Jimin, was a no go.
As you’re weighing the matter in your own metaphors, you don’t notice that Jimin never actually finished the sentence. The threat was largely only reserved for himself. “I guess, I’ll leave you alone.” But he never had the guts to say it out loud, scared that it would come true if he did.
Your eyes droop dangerously low. You and Jimin had made him a place to sleep, using decorative pillows and extra fleece blankets for now. He told you that his stuff was still being shipped. He had washed the dishes while you made a quick run to the store to get him some toiletries. He was given his towel and the apartment was coated in the small glow of the living room lamp. Quiet music was swimming through. Jimin said that he’ll turn it off. It was strange to have him here. To have anyone here. The second Tilla and Namjoon had gotten married, her absence gradually grew more and more until now she was in Australia. It was unusual, but you found that you didn’t mind it just yet.
“Hey, __________,” Jimin whispered and your ears naturally perked at the sound of his voice, all the way from your lofted bed.
“Hmmm?”
“Don’t….don’t believe too much what these papers say about me.”
There was a hint of frailty in his tone and you’re once again brought to the fact of how horrible these last few years had been for him. The times that he appeared in yellow pages were not tremendous in the count, but there was never a single good entry. Just the clubs, the arrest, the reckless spending and driving and so forth.
“Don’t worry,” you murmur back, eyes closing. “I never did.”
At first, Sunday comes like it had a thousand times before - lazy with sleep weighted eyes, the gnawing realisation that the fun is halfway over. Tomorrow is Monday and it’s just hours, once again hoursaway from Doing The Labour. It’s exhausting to Do The Labour. As you pull a pillow over your head, scoffing at the sunlight streaming through the window, you whine to yourself - you don’t want to Do The Labour. But the hunger grumbling in your stomach is a stern reminder that you have to, want to or not. You lift your head up, groggy and squinting in the pouring light. You stretch, something cracks, and there’s a persistent, mysterious ache somewhere in your back. Adulthood. But as you climb down, opening the window to let in the fresh, morning air, you glimpse at Jimin sleeping on the sofa. Dark hair messy on the pillow, soft snores rising from his open mouth.
The gust of morning breeze rips through the curtains and he shivers, instinctively pulling the blanket nearly up to his ears to protect himself from the unwanted elements. You smile and then for the first time in a very long time you allow yourself to sit and simply gaze into the city. Dogs and their sleep weary owners trudged in and out of the park, runners in their never-ending mission to make everyone else feel lazy took laps amidst the freshly opened shops, half-abandoned construction and the occasional stray cat. Together and separate - the life of a city.
And when Jimin wakes much has changed and yet nothing really. The Sunday like many before this one is spent quietly, with a nameless, bright cartoon in the background, coffee made, and yoghurt to be enjoyed. Despite what your fears always insisted, it’s actually quite simple. You’re still you and he’s still him and you’re both here in this small apartment, on this lazy Sunday morning because you want to be here. It’s just that simple.
As Jimin shuffles over, still partially sinking into slumber, you quickly delved into a bowl of non-sugar non-fat diet no-additive greek yoghurt just not before throwing a handful of strawberries and half a pack of chocolate chips.
Jimin smiles over his cup of coffee.
“I like to eat healthily,” you establish, shaking the very last of the chips into the bowl.
“I can see that,” he bites his lip to not laugh and the chain around his neck dangles in the air as he reaches down to lay a light kiss on the side of your cheek.
AN: This is going to be quite a sensitive chapter, containing topics that could trigger some people. Please proceed with care. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and what you think of the series so far :) I purple you guys!
“Hyunjin?” Y/N called from her bed. It had been four days since she had been discharged from the hospital into the care of her younger brother and it had been over a week since she had seen her soulmates. Hyunjin had not allowed them to see her as he was convinced they had ulterior motives with her since they had allowed Jackson to kidnap her. He had gone as far to tell the doctors of the hospital that he was not comfortable with any information regarding Y/N’s wellbeing to be shared with them and had stationed Changbin outside the door to stop them entering the hospital room.
“Yes, noona?” Hyunjin popped his head around the door. He was holding a tray with some juk. Y/N wrinkled her nose. The rice porridge was the only thing she had been given to eat since she had come home. It was becoming quite boring.
“You do realise I am allowed to move around, right?” She reminded him, wanting to see something else other than the four walls of her childhood bedroom.
“You do realise you are recovering from major surgery?” Hyunjin raised his eyebrows as he set the tray down on her desk. He leaned against it, one of his legs crossed over the other.
“I’ve got about a week of recovery left. They discharged me for a reason, Hyunnie.”
“I just want to be sure you’re okay, noona. You’ve been through a lot and I’m not entirely sure you’ve fully processed it yet.” Y/N was silent. Yes, there had been nightmares were she was back in that room, tied to the bed while Jackson raped her. But there had also been the dreams that were good. Dreams were she had been spending time with her brother, and with her soulmates. But she knew that she would not be able to have a physical relationship with the boys for a while considering what had happened to her. They would just have to take it slow, which was why she was slightly grateful that Hyunjin wasn’t allowing them to see her. Less chance of a mental breakdown over a hug or a kiss.
It had taken almost a week for Hyunjin to be able to hold her hand and hug her. The first time he had done it she had screamed and cried until the doctor relaxed her with a sedative. But she still longed for her soulmates presence.
“Please, Hyunnie, let me see them.” She pleaded. “You can be there in the room as well as any of the boys you want to be there. I just need to see them.”
Hyunjin sighed and moved over to the bed, sitting down. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, noona. What if you have a panic attack over them trying to kiss you?”
“I have you here to calm me down, don’t I?” Y/N reminded him. “And besides, I’ll do my management techniques that my therapist taught me. He can’t hurt me anymore. I just need to remember that.”
Hyunjin leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Okay. Fine. You text them and tell them to come over in an hour or so and I’ll get Changbin hyung and Chan hyung to come over as well. And maybe Lee Know hyung.”
“Okay, Hyunnie. Thank you.” Y/N smiled at her brother and ruffled his hair. Hyunjin stood up and handed her the food.
“Eat up.” He set the tray on her lap. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes or so to see how you’re getting on.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Y/N looked down at the juk and sighed. “Why is it always this?” She whined before beginning to eat.
——————–
An hour later, Y/N was propped up against the headboard of her bed with many pillows surrounding her and one of Hyunjin’s hoodies on.
“Noonaaaa!” Changbin said excitedly as he entered the room followed by Chan and Lee Know.
“Hi, noona!” Lee Know waved as he sat on her desk chair. Chan stood behind him, leaning against the wall.
“Hi, Y/Nie.” He smiled. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes I am, thank you Chan oppa.” Y/N replied. “How’s being idols now?”
“It’s good.” Lee Know said. “Fun.”
“That’s good.” Y/N said. “I’ve listened to your guys stuff, it’s really good.”
“Thank you.” Changbin said. He was sat on Y/N’s windowsill seat where she used to sit and read when she was younger.
There was a comfortable silence for a while before Y/N heard several sets of footsteps on the stairs.
“They’re here!” She exclaimed excitedly. Hyunjin walked into her room, shutting the door behind him. She frowned at him and tilted her head.
“Are you completely sure you can handle this?” He asked.
“Yes, Hyunjin. I’m sure. And if I need you, you’re next door. I’ll text you or something.” She reassured him. “So, you four, out. Let me see my boys.”
“If anything happens, anything at all, just let us know. We are right next door.” Hyunjin said as the four of them left the room.
“I know, Hyunnie.” Y/N nodded. She took a deep breath to steady herself and calm herself down. There was a soft knock on the door. She cleared her throat. “Come in.”
“Baby girl!” Her Hobi was there with a huge smile on his face.
“Hobi!” He came into her room and gently made his way over to her. “Where are the rest of you?”
“We’re going to come in one at a time to let you adjust and everything. We want to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” Hoseok explained, kneeling down next to her bed. “How are you?”
Y/N reached out her hand which Hoseok took. She had missed feeling him. “I’m okay. Healing slowly but I’m okay.”
“That’s amazing, baby girl. I’m so proud of you for getting this far.” Hoseok said.
“I missed you.” Y/N felt tears prick her eyes.
“I missed you too, baby girl.” Hoseok’s eyes looked all over her face, softening even more. “Oh, please, don’t cry, baby girl. It’s okay.” Y/N sniffled and grabbed a tissue to wipe her eyes. Hoseok watched her for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Can I hug you?”
He’s not Jackson. Not Jackson. This is Hoseok. Jackson can’t hurt me anymore. She reminded herself.
“Please.” She said. Hoseok stood up and climbed onto her bed, pulling her into his arms.
“There we go.” He said as he maneuvered them gently into a comfortable position. Y/N burst into tears again having missed this feeling so much. “It’s okay, baby girl. I’ve got you. I’m here.” He played with her hair and stroked her back.
“I needed this.” She whispered, her voicy croaky from the tears.
“I know, baby girl. I know.” Hoseok’s voice was soft. “I needed this too.”
There was a knock at the door. Y/N looked up from her spot on Hoseok’s chest and saw that Seokjin was stood in the doorway.
“Oh, sweetheart.” His face filled with sympathy when he saw her crying. “What’s wrong?”
“They’re happy tears, Jin oppa.” Y/N sniffled. “I didn’t realise how much I had missed you until I saw you.”
“I missed you too, sweetheart. So much.” Seokjin took hold of her hand and rubbed the back of it. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” Y/N said. “I’m not a hundred percent where I was before yet, but I’m getting there.”
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Jin said. “Can I join the cuddle?” Y/N nodded and Hoseok lifted her up slightly and rolled onto his back so Jin could lie next to them. He then placed her on both of their chests so she was lying kind of in between them on her side with Hobi behind her and Jin in front of her. They were both holding hands on her hip.
“Hi,” Y/N whispered. She was quite close to Jin’s face.
“Hi sweetheart.” Jin said reaching up to push some hair out of her face. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You are, baby girl.” Hoseok agreed. Y/N blushed and hid her face in Jin’s shoulder, causing the pair of them to chuckle.
“You definitely are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen, baby.” Came a voice from the door.
“Joonie oppa?” She lifted her head up and saw Namjoon stood with a huge smile on his face, showing his dimples.
“Hello, beautiful baby. How have you been?” Namjoon stood awkwardly by the edge of the bed not really sure what to do.
“I’ve been better, if I’m being totally honest. But I’m getting there.” Y/N replied.
“That’s good, baby. We will all help you get to where you need to be.” Joon said.
“Join the cuddle!” Hoseok said happily.
“Ok, hyungs move up and go on your sides.” Namjoon instructed. “And then I’m gonna lie in the middle with our pretty little baby in my arms because I’ve missed her so much.”
“I missed you too.” Y/N smiled, moving to let Namjoon lie down. Once he was comfortable she carefully laid down on top of him. She had gotten her stitches out and the wound had healed but it still hurt a little bit if she moved too quickly, and she still had the fear she would somehow rip it open.
“Cuddles without me?” Jimin’s voice rang across the room. Y/N could picture the pout on his face. She looked over at him. Yup, there it was.
“You’re cute, Jiminie.” Y/N cooed, making him smile at her.
“Not as cute as you, though.”
Y/N opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the others agreeing with him and not allowing her to say otherwise.
“Are you okay? I was so scared.” Jimin asked, crawling onto the bed and lying next to her on top of Hoseok, who let out a small grunt when Jimin flopped onto him.
“I’m okay. Getting better, Min. I’m not completely there yet, but I will be.” Y/N promised, making Jimin nod in understanding. He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist.
“I’m glad you’re back in my arms, princess.” He said softly.
“I’m glad too, Min.” Y/N said, staring into his eyes.
“Baby bear!” Taehyung exclaimed, bounding into the room.
“TaeTae!” Y/N smiled, sitting up, her legs on either side of Namjoon’s stomach. She opened her arms and made grabby hands at him. Tae climbed on Jin and hugged Y/N tight. She heard him inhale deeply on the top of her head.
“You’re okay. That’s so good. I’m proud.” Taehyung said, his deep voice rumbling through Y/N’s body.
“Yeah, I’m getting there. Still a bit jumpy.” Y/N explained, making Tae hum in understanding.
“I get that, darling. I understand.” Tae said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He froze. “I’m sorry if that was too far.”
“It’s fine, Tae. Honestly. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Y/N reassured him. He pulled away and looked her in the eye to make sure she was comfortable.
“Okay, baby bear. Okay.” Taehyung settled down on top of Jin, who groaned as he shifted his weight along Jin’s stomach.
“Tae, I love you, but ow.” Jin complained.
“Love you too, hyung.” Tae leaned up and kissed Jin’s lips. “Yoongi hyung said to let you know that he thought it would be best if he and Jungkook were alone with Y/N.”
“Why?” Y/N was confused. She tilted her head to side and glanced at the boys in front of her.
“It’s easier to let him explain, baby.” Namjoon said, sitting up. Y/N slid into his lap.
“Is it bad?” Y/N chewed on her lip.
“It’s okay, baby girl. They’re both okay. They just both really, really missed you.” Hoseok replied, reassuring her.
Taehyung and Jimin clambered off the bed after sandwiching her between kisses to her cheeks. Jin followed with a kiss to the top of her head, with Hobi close on his heels, leaving a kiss to Y/N’s nose.
“It will be okay, baby. I promise. Some things happened while you were gone, which they want to talk to you about. But I promise you, it’s okay.” Namjoon said. Y/N nodded and got off Namjoon’s lap.
He kissed her forehead after he got off the bed. “I’ll see you later?”
“Of course, baby.” He said. “We’ll all go home and watch a movie or something.”
“Okay.” Y/N nodded, watching Namjoon’s retreating figure make his way out of the room and into the hallway.
“Jagiya? Can I come in?” At the sound of his voice, Y/N eyes filled with tears. She had missed all of the boys, but Yoongi was her first soulmate. They had a special connection that none of the others had.
“Yoonie.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. She got up from the bed and ran into his arms.
“Jagi. Oh, my God. Y/N.” Yoongi murmured into her hair, walking them into the room. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” Y/N confirmed. “Still a bit jumpy at certain things and have slight PTSD, but I’m okay.”
“That’s okay, jagiya. Fucking hell I missed you.” He pulled away and studied her face. “You’ve gotten even more beautiful.” He whispered, a hand coming up to cup her cheek. “So pretty.”
“I missed you, Yoon.” Y/N said, rubbing his shoulder.
“I missed you more.” He said. Y/N looked up at him, taking in his cat-like eyes that pierced into her soul every time they looked at each other. His eyes dipped down to her lips. He paused and cleared his throat. “Can I…?”
Y/N hesitated. Jackson had never actually kissed her the entire time she was there, so she should be fine. And she wanted him to. That meant something, surely. Her body was telling her to, so she would be fine.
“Yes.” She breathed. Yoongi leaned down and connected their lips together.
Y/N waited with baited breath, unsure of what was about to happen.
And then she felt it.
The fireworks.
Sparking and bursting inside her stomach. She smiled into the kiss, her hands coming up to curl into the hairs at the base of Yoongi’s neck.
They both pulled away breathless. Yoongi was smiling lovingly at her, trying to catch his breath.
“Fuck.” He murmured, a hand stroking her cheek. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What do you mean?” Y/N’s heart filled with dread. “What happened?” Yoongi was silent, looking down at his fingers. “Yoongi. Tell me.” She demanded.
“The night you were taken something happened between me and Jungkook.” He began. Y/N’s heart stopped. Had they broken up? Had Jungkook left them?
“Where is he?” She asked, needing to see him. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s not good, jagiya.” Yoongi had tears in his eyes. “He-” His breath hitched in his throat and he started to cry. “It’s all my fault.”
“What’s your fault? What happened?” Y/N asked, wrapping her arms around him. “Yoongi? Where is he? You’re scaring me.” Yoongi buried his head in her shoulder and kept saying he was sorry. “Yoongi, love, please tell me what happened.”
Yoongi took a deep breath to calm himself. “The night you were taken, Jungkook and I got into an argument. I told him that Jackson taking you was his fault and that caused him to hurt himself.”
“Fuck.” Y/N was shocked. She never thought Yoongi would be like that. “Why would you say that to him?”
“I was upset and angry and scared and I wasn’t in my right mind.” Yoongi explained. “I thought you were going to die. You said you would kill yourself if he ever took you again and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live without you.”
“Yoongi…” Y/N was still slightly angry at him for exploding at Jungkook like that, but she could understand where he was coming from. “I’m okay. I’m here. Just please, don’t ever do that again. Stuff like that it’s… damaging.”
“I know. There’s only two things I regret in my life. Hurting him like that and allowing Jackson to get close to you.” Yoongi said.
“I want to see him.” She said. Yoongi nodded and left the room for a second, returning with a scared looking Jungkook.
“Koo.” Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and ran into his arms. He let out a breath of surprise before hugging her back.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating. Y/N felt her heart break. While she had gone through something horrible, it was clear Jungkook had too. And she knew that it would take some time for both of them to get through it, but at least they had each other.
a/n: Fun fact, this is the first thing I ever wrote for BTS. I just never felt like changing it to second person.
I stare out at the chaos of the airport arrivals station. Cars honk, bumper to bumper. People cry, people shout, people smile. Suitcases and duffle bags are tossed and dragged every which way.
But I stand, motionless, looking for an unknown car carrying a stranger to me. I’m somewhere I’ve never been before on a new adventure.
Not that I need this adventure. Not that I had to get away. Or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
“Hey!” Someone shouts. “Hey!” the same voice shouts. “Over here!” Along with a few other people, I turn towards the shouting. A man hangs out the side of a car, arm outstretched, smiling so wide his eyes turn into crescents under a pink fringe.
“Ji…min?” I call back hesitantly. He said he had pink hair.
“It is you!” He verifies before swerving the car out of the oncoming traffic and to the curb. He hops out and is by my side in two steps. He still has the same wide smile. “Hey!” He says, again. I try to smile, but the jet lag makes it tough to share his excitement.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Angst, Horror
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 8: The Hen House part 1
A/N. Y'all. Have you seen airport Yoongi 2022? Also, wrote this while on the road so forgive me if it’s sloppy.
FLASHBACK
Smoke filled your lungs, an endless circle of tobacco and the smell of fried eggs and grilling meat as you tried to push your sweaty hair to the side, the sun beating down on your bare fore arms, the prickling heat shoved at the forefront of your mind incessantly.
You just know you were going to get a tan in weird places with the way your shirt sleeves were haphazardly rolled up to your shoulders and the frayed edge tied to a side knot just above your hip bone.
If anything you looked like a poster girl for Rosie the Riveter minus the iconic red polka-dotted headband.
You had foregone wearing shorts, opting for jeans instead as you weren’t really all that comfortable showing a good amount of skin below your stomach and so it was sweltering hot as you attempted with a mild grunt to carry the multitude of colored boxes for a new resident of the Hen House - you think you’ve read one labelled Toysand you weren’t born yesterday to decipher what thathad meant.
With a blush, you enter the comfortable air conditioned lobby of the home, the receptionist smiling behind the desk before going back to jot down something on her clipboard, and you trudge up the winding staircases down to the east wing.
The Hen House, built upon an old abandoned convent back in the day boasted a sprawling ten-acre enclave lined with all kinds of trees and greenery, a massive lake just behind the structure where you mostly loved to spend your time lounging by the docks whenever you didn’t have anything to do, feeding whatever woodland creature graced you with it’s presence so you tended to pocket an assortment of nuts and bits and pieces of bread whenever you visit.
It was actually one of the adopted social services program for Kyung Hee, the university you were attending, extending help to women (and men) who previously worked in the under hood of Korea’s red light districts and were trying to turn over a new page in their battered, worn out books.
Initially you were hesitant, what with your swamped schedule but your professor had convinced you otherwise in exchange for raising your GPA so you had agreed without thinking too much of the consequences.
Passing through the hallways all while giving a wave or two to the relatively cheerful residents doing their own thing, you come to a stop in front of a wooden door.
Lightly nudging it open, you toddle through and gently place the boxes in a corner of the room out of harm’s way.
“Thanks, sweet cheeks.”
Startled, you almost smack the tall intruder in his handsome face. “Oh fuck, sorry!” You bow as he barely dodges from your hands before he chuckles, bringing your flailing to a stop.
Your eyes land on the love handles peeking through his white cropped shirt.
Like a fish out of water, you blatantly ogle the dude, only to curse under your breath- first house rule, never ever check out the residents (at least openly) for several reasons, one of them being a violation of their dignity and privacy after everything they went through to get to this point.
But you couldn’t help it! He easily towered over you and he was huge, like he ate protein shakes for breakfast every morning.
Clearing your throat, you hold out a hand in greeting. “I’m LN YN.”
The attractive stranger nods taking your hand in his for a brief shake. “Kim Matthew, but you may call me BM.”
You give him a genuine, welcoming smile. “Well then, BM, I hope you like your new home. The people here can be a handful, and crazy, and sometimes pushes all your buttons and smoke like they’re sixty-five but they’re all caring on the inside.” You state plainly only to flush when you realize you were babbling.
You give a hasty bow, “Also, I’ll be in your care from now on.”
He grins, white canines glinting, the tear drop earrings he sported shimmers in the mid afternoon light streaming through the curtains as he pats your head consolingly almost amused at your little display and you look up at him shyly. “Likewise, YN.”
You have a strong feeling you and him would get along just fine.
.
BM, as it turns out, became your bosom buddy even if you hadn’t known him for long.
He was very well likeable and was basically good at everything, from cooking to building that cat dream house one of the matrons had always wanted, and writing poems that could rival Namjoon’s, you were starting to think all beautiful people were blessed by the gods themselves.
And BM was really good at writing. Like insanely good.
So it isn’t a wonder when one day, as you were raking leaves in the garden, he comes running out thrusting sheafs of paper against your face, getting you cross eyed as you tentatively take them from his excited grasp.
“I got in, YN!” He screams with giddiness and you stare confused only for your creased brows to unfurl, a giant smile lighting up your haggard demeanor.
BM had been accepted to Kyung Hee as a Literature Major under a scholarship.
The best part was, he would be sponsored to go to an Ivy League school of his choice as long as he kept his grades up.
“Woah, this is awesome!” You tell him, proud at his accomplishments as he basically lifts you up and twirls you around like you weighed nothing.
Having been a former stripper for a BDSM club, your friend didn’t have many options in his career, most regarding him with an underlying sort of disgust, a used commodity but it seems the Literature department of your university thought he had great potential ahead of him if they were willing to go so far as to let him finish a Master’s Degree abroad.
Once back in your feet, your beefy friend hesitates. “But… I’ll be moving into the dorms before the semester starts.”
You snort and smack him lightly on the chest, the only part reachable for your five foot, two inches. “Don’t worry about me, dummy. I go to the same university too. Dorm visitations are allowed on weekends. And it’s not like you can’t just text me to meet up or something. ”
He chuckles, but then his sharp eyes stray to somewhere behind you as he subconsciously grips your fingers in his. “Yeah, that’s not what I’m worried about.” He whispers seriously and you shoot a look at the middle aged man tottering a few steps away towards the sidewalk, as if he had just been caught peering through the fence.
You freeze. Who was that? This was the third time in a row you’ve caught him staring at you.
Somehow, and you don’t know why but that behavior reminded you of the Bogeyman when you were younger.
You shuddered.
BM does not let you get home alone that night as he steadfastly refuses to let you drive alone. “I’ll just take a cab on the way back.” He says, tone final and you don’t argue.
Knowing your friend for over a year now, his instincts for bad things were usually a little too spot on, (like that time you showed him a photo of an apartment you were looking into leasing which thankfully you didn’t as turns out it was a trap house) having been honed by dealing with seedy and unsavory clients for almost half of his street rat years.
Maybe you should report that incident to the police just in case.
You give him a farewell kiss on the cheek and watch him walk the driveway, past the security who open the gates for him, and back into the shadows, only for you to stop in your tracks as you feel someone watching your backside (surely it wasn’t the gatekeeper) and not wasting any time, you run into the house almost colliding into one of the boys dogs.
“Woof!”
You heave a sigh of relief as the brown poodle clings to your leg, tail wagging. “Holly, you scared me! ” You coo only for her owner to come stumbling out into the foyer sleepily.
“Oh, you’re back.” He then frowns checking the clock on the wall and is fairly surprised that it’s around two in the morning. He pauses awkwardly by the foot of the stairs. “…Had a hot date?” Yoongi drawls albeit uncomfortably, though you can’t tell with the way his lips break out into his usual smirk.
You don’t know why that gets to you, it’s just a question, but it does anyway and with how tired you were the entire goddamn day and the lingering fear still rooted in your bones, a bit of light leaves your irises. “Eh.” You shrug neither denying or confirming and brush past him, leaving Holly yapping in the background and her owner stumped because it was the first time you acted like you he was a roommate and nothing more.
Not a member of your makeshift family.
Not the man who hung the moon and the stars.
Not the man who broke your heart countless of times as he and his brothers came home looking thoroughly fucked and sated.
Nothing.
Frantic footsteps follow you, “…are you hungry?”
You stop and he stops, his dog in tow, sitting her butt on the marbled floor. “I’m sleepy. Good night, Yoongi. ” Your tone borders on a heavy sort of finality and you trudge up to your room without another word, not caring a shit what he thought about you at the moment.
Maybe tomorrow would be better.
.
The next morning finds you buried bone deep in volunteer work.
It was Sunday, and with no boyfriend or social life outside of your boys you had offered to clean the old lake shed at the Hen House.
It was a dusty old shack if anything, filled with miscellaneous stuff old residents had left and some rusty machinery which could fetch a notable price at some obscure junkyard by the roadside.
If only you weren’t alone (not discounting the receptionist and the cook who were always on duty) but the other staff had the day off and since most of the residents were capable of running the place anyway, they were left to their own devices.
You cough up a storm as the pile of books on the shelf topples, leaving you wheezing in a particle cloud of dust bunnies.
The shed may be grimy but it was pretty workable as it was small, big enough to fit at most four of you.
You huff, putting on a mask and hyping your spirits to do some shit cleaning because you were not going to leave this place without scrubbing every single inch, every nook and cranny until you were satisfied.
“Let’s do this, YN.”
It takes you approximately until seven into the evening to finish everything and you collapse in the now waxed and polished floor, muscles aching and moaning.
All things that could still be of use were boxed and taped up to be sent to the lost and found department just in case some of the residents wanted to ‘dumpster dive’.
The stuff that were practically trash was going to be shipped off to the junkyard tomorrow. Recycle and all that shit.
With a tired whine, you allow yourself to partially doze off to slumber, only minutes later, something cold taps your ankle until long fingers are grasping them and you jump up, shrieking in shock.
The old man you had seen with BM last night was here. Inside the shed. With you.
Shit!
Before you can even run out to call for help, a force yanks you back and you land on the hardwood with a thump.
You refuse to look anywhere but at him, thinking this was the way you were going to die and you’d rather not hold the face of your murderer in the afterlife lest you never find peace, only for him to practically bend abnormally close down to your level.
You gasp when you are left staring at milky white orbs and yellowed rotten teeth, “Save me.” The old man gasps and you scream.
END OF FLASHBACK
YOONGI POV
He hates you.
Well, he actually doesn’t.
He was annoyed, irritated, with the fact that you were hugging a man twice the size of the Sigma leader.
And he was a fucking dwarf compared to the guy’s bulging pectorals.
“YN?!”
He growls lowly, though the only people who heard were his brothers as you climb the big buffoon like he wanted you to climb his dick.
Something gnaws at his chest, straining, making his insides blaze with unbridled fury and bitterness as he witnesses how happy you looked, something he –they have never seen on you before.
And it hurts.
It fucking hurts.
“Guys, this is BM! He’s a good friend of mine!” You wave them over, glowing and positively beautiful that the twinge grows deeper, like a knife stabbed him in his lungs.
A friend? He’s never heard of this BM. Not until now. Dread fills his already fucked up emotional spectrum solely thanks to you.
Just how much of your life outside of them did they miss?
He glances at the others who mirror the same kind of trepidation as they all survey the gothic structure, the concrete seemingly intimidating even as they were used to grandeur.
There was something eerie about this place and if you had been working here for a long time right under their noses, he doesn’t even want to imagine what kind of horrors you faced.
And as you pull them all in to meet curious faces, he swallows, hiding his disdain as he realizes just how far away you were from them.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Angst, Implied low self esteem, mentioned panic attacks and anxiety, implied emotional neglect by best friends, supporting character short death flashback
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 7: The Ghost Witch
A/N. In honor of stopping the spread of Asian hate, and to celebrate the start of Bangtan’s entry into being more widely known not only for their music, but also for their civic involvement in all things that matter, I dedicate this chapter to a much newer beginning.
People say happiness is a choice.
But what if…just what if you try to choose to be happy, try being the word, and yet you can’t seem to feel anything but a constricting sort of self imposed rejection?
Or maybe it’s just your anxiety killing you.
You’ve had panic attacks before, and you hated it–it’s like being trapped between the chasm of falling down the stairs but you just hang there loosely, never falling until your breaths go back to normal and your brain rewires on its own, only to go back to that same dreadful feeling the next day, over and over and over again.
But anxiety…anxiety is on a whole other level.
It never leaves.
You have never had a therapist before. Unlike Yoongi, you weren’t so keen on opening up to your parents when you were a kid (and even now as an adult, you don’t delve into serious topics whenever they visited). What could you say?
“Hey, mom and dad. Nice to see you. Did you know that your daughter isn’t happy with herself so much she can’t stand to look at the mirror some days?”
Highly unlikely.
Besides, in your family, showing mental weaknesses will only get a scoff and some long drawn out double lecture about ‘when I was your age, I didn’t have that kind of shit to deal with’.
And yet you were tired.
Existing was just tiring sometimes.
“You’re thinking too much, mouse. ”
You startle at the new voice, eyes shooting to stare at the spectre floating above you, your arms finding their way against the cool sheets of your bedroom.
Or former bedroom?
Well you weren’t dead. Not yet anyway.
It was just weird to think about having your two bodies in two places at once.
The comatose one currently at MyeongDong Hospital connected to life support, and you in your ghost form or spirit form or whatever the fuck you were in the Bangtan’s residence.
Moon Byul, ethereal in her white kimono and long red hair (a trait that would have had any man, particularly your best friend Yoongi bedding her faster than even Jungkook can run and that boy runs fast).
It had been two days since the seance and Eugene had all but left you to your own devices.
That is, have Byul hang around for awhile until you eventually woke up in your corporeal body.
She did say she was going to be your unofficial ghost guide.
You sigh, turning your head to stare at her pretty face. It was a shame really that she had died so young.
According to her brother, Byul had always been sickly as a young girl, and had long since known when her time was up –it was a trait passed down from the females of Yang to the next generation.
Grim reaper’s eyes he had said.
And so one day, while it was storming wildly, Byul just drove out to sea and drowned herself.
It was a pretty morbid way to go.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about, mouse. ” Byul hovers to the side.
Her voice surrounds you like a siren underwater. Cool and soothing is what she is.
You had never met Byul before until now but you did see pictures of her all over the Yin Yang Quatro.
Eugene doesn’t talk about her much, probably hurt over the fact that she chose to die and leave him alone, but with what little you could gather, the briefest tremble in his voice told you a lot about his love for his only blood relative.
“Just…how we’re going to go about things tomorrow. ” You confess, twirling your hair distractedly.
The ghost hums, floating over to take a good look at your face and you blush. It isn’t everyday that a beautiful ghost looks at you like that! Particularly not one who is in league with the Bangtan boys’ in terms of being a god send.
She pokes your nose, another habit you’ve noticed she does while often with you (or as often as the day she nearly gave all seven of your best friends an aneurysm by dashing towards you as if to attack).
“Don’t worry, mouse. The ghosts associated with every memory you have in this community are not savage creatures. The only dark entities are the ones beyond the veil where I come from, and I have yet to sense one of them.”
Theat least for now isunspoken and that’s what makes you shudder.
“Oh, you’re fading, mouse. ” She lightly grumbles, irritated but not at you.
True enough, your fingers become transparent, only to go back to its undisturbed, solid state once Byul touches your hand.
Perhaps that was the thing about having Byul as your spirit.
Eugene had explained that the planes of where you are now were conflicting, hence you were merely limited to a human form for a couple of hours until you would eventually fade away.
It was the limit of Eugene’s strange abilities–he can’t make people rise from the dead (nor from a coma apparently), but what he can do, is make them visible to their loved ones if the desire of the person was strong enough to sustain one’s soul.
Your desperation to come back to your best friends was what helped you over come being stuck in a spirit form.
At least for a good while.
All good things must come to an end, you suppose and by then, only Yoongi for some odd reason was the only one who could get a sense of you.
Maybe because he was the most emphatic out of all of them despite him keeping to himself most of the time.
When he wasn’t loving girls and leaving them that is.
“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling the after effects of Byul’s energy.
“Sleep, mouse.” She says, and your lids flutter shut.
You awake to arguing.
“Stop, don’t open those fucking blinds, she might disappear!”
Rolling to your side, the heated whispers cease as a hand caresses your cheek.
“Forgive us, baby. You can sleep more if you’re tired, yeah?”
Blinking back the dimness of the room, you hoist yourself up to mild protests, arms coming to encircle your shoulders as you properly take a good look at the people inside your bedroom.
Seven shadows shift awkwardly, one letting go of the curtains just as the dust mites dancing in the light seeping through from your large french windows settle down into nothingness.
Oh.
“Guys? What are you doing here? Don’t you have to be at the company?” You question, wondering if they skipped training with the staff.
Your boys were after all the brains behind the KMJP Industries, an affiliate of their adoptive father’s huge billion dollar conglomerate even while doing university and you know they were working themselves to the bone recently to produce new tracks for contracted foreign artists and some other related stuff.
It was such bad timing that you got injured and you somehow felt guilty about taking precious time away from them.
From the corner of your eye, you spot a Starbucks bag and can’t help but wrinkle your nose at the smell.
“That smells like shit,” you blurt, only to shut your mouth at the realization that the boys might have brought you dinner, and you were being relatively ungrateful.
But…could you even eat at this point?
Eyeing the caramel macchiato and bread that Namjoon was slowly pulling out to sniff with furrowed brows, you decide you can’t even if you want to.
Because it smells fucking rotten. What the fuck.
Suddenly, Hoseok shouts as Byul glides through the walls, “Mouse, don’t eat anything. ”
You hide a nervous chuckle as Namjoon nearly drops the bagel and coffee, only for Jimin to catch the entire thing and hand it over to Jin who promptly takes a whiff in mild consternation.
“But…it smells fine?” He mumbles more to himself than you and you look to Eugene’s dead sister for explanation.
She flips her hair daintily before taking a hover to her new spot in the corner. “To you it does, human. But to her, it will smell sour and unappetizing, as she is trapped between wakefulness and death, her senses will not work properly. Even I cannot predict what she might feel about random everyday objects. ”
Ever the curious pup, you hum with an ask, “What does it smell like to you, Byul?”
She shrugs after a moment and you realize the boys were as curious to know the answer as you were. “Like nothing. I am already dead and everything connected to my past self has left my memories like dust. ”
You frown. “Oh, but you still remember Eugene though?”
She smiles at you mysteriously. “My brother is not a part of my past. He is a part of my present and always will be. ”
Does that mean–oh. Oh!
You remember Eugene having once told you back when he had to leave you alone to manage Yin Yang Quatro not to worry about intruders as you wouldn’t be alone.
You assumed he meant his pet dog Kimchi.
But now you are starting to think otherwise.
So Byul still haunted the place, huh.
It would’ve creeped you out, but seeing as you’re on the way to following her footsteps if you couldn’t get back, it was like you weren’t even afraid at all.
Byul had this calming effect about her that made your heart serene. If anything, you might just marry Byul in the after life if things didn’t work out with the boys.
You think you saw a twitch on the seven men’s faces but ignore them entirely in favor of your specter.
She leans forward from her position against the wood, “I scouted the perimeter, and we are going to start with the shelter, if that’s alright with you, YN?”
Byul switches topics fast and you can’t help but freeze, alerting the boys to your discomfort.
The youngest three immediately gravitate towards you, glaring at Byul.
The shelter?
“What do you mean the shelter?” Hoseok frowns.
You had never worked at any shelter before as far as they know.
You gulp.
Here’s the thing.
Although the boys spoiled you for everything, not even letting you pay a dime for groceries, and even giving you an allowance apart from the money your parents sent and your two part time jobs, you had been roped into taking a third not because you needed to but because you wanted to.
“The, um…it’s,” you exhale loudly, causing all men to shift their concerned gazes to you. “It’s a facility for homeless people. ”
They sigh in relief. “Oh. That does not seem so bad?” Taehyung hums in light appreciation, though he can’t help but wonder if the money they were giving you wasn’t enough.
The others seem to think so as Yoongi questions, “Do you…work there?”
Of course they wouldn’t know.
They didn’t know about Eugene, nor did they know about your apartment.
The only job they were aware of (and of which you had to beg them to let you work in) was at Starbucks.
You shrug. “It’s a voluntary kind of thing. ”
You try to hide your grimace as Byul raises a well sculpted brow at you (how the fuck does a ghost have perfect eyebrows on?!).
“You didn’t tell them?”
They swivel to her and you wince.
“YN?” Jin’s no nonsense tone sends you spiralling into a sort of dreaded abyss as sweat breaks out of your chin.
Forcibly closing your eyes, you tip your head back already feeling an oncoming head ache.
“It’s a home for prostitutes. I occasionally help out.”
You cover your ears at the multitude of angry outbursts, having had already expected it in the first place.
If this is how they would react to that little tidbit in your life, you wonder how you would even go through all of your memories with them, much less talk to ghosts at this rate.
This was troublesome.
FLASHBACK
“What do you mean they have to be the ones to learn everything about her? Can’t she learn it herself?” Eugene runs a hand through his handsome face.
“…okay that is an absurd statement, I retract. But! But isn’t that an invasion of privacy in your ghost world rules or something, sis?” He gripes, uneasy about the entire thing. Your boss cared about you to that extent.
Byul could only smirk. “If you’re worried about her, just think about the results. Those men of hers don’t seem to know a thing outside of the life they had created for her inside this house. ”
Eugene pauses. “So basically you’re telling me that YN has to open up to them so they could collect every fragment shard of her soul that’s somehow being absurdly kept by a bunch of your ghost friends in the netherworld? And it has to be those seven assholes?”
“Yes. ”
“…Fine. You all heard that?” He glares at the seven men while you merely shrink back behind Eugene, trying your best to avoid all the eyes on you.
At this point, you just wanted the ground to grow a mouth and swallow you whole.
Because you were about to let Bangtan Sonyeondan in on every little secret you had kept from them all these years.
“If only you hadn’t been fucking around, this would be a lot easier.” Eugene lowly mutters but you hear and you couldn’t have agreed more.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Angst, Sickness, Cussing, Implied drug use , Implied manwhoring around
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 5: The Neighbor (and friends) Across the Hall
A/N. Hello there. Am I dropping chapters too quick? Anyway, I let this chapter basically write itself and it ended up surprisingly good. But I may not be updating again for this week as I wrote this chapter with a head ache and I may be out of commission for awhile. We’ll see. Hope you enjoy! Comment for taglist. :)
ALSO. A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL WHO HAVE READ AND ARE READING THIS SERIES. 감사합니다!
FLASHBACK
Like claws raking horribly against a chalkboard, you hold back a grimace, lips down turned from the overcast shadows looming before you, a sign of doom or at most the barbie league club from the drama department who could only afford the cheapest drink they could get at their local Starbucks.
Icy blue irises roam over the standard uniform you and every employee in this branch were forced to don –fitted green shirt and baggy corduroy pants– and as if the devil himself reincarnates, she tips the cup of her Teavana with a flick of the wrist, the contents spilling all over the place and your ears burn as she gives you a lame ‘oops, how clumsy of me’.
The other patrons are glaring at the girls to leave like the bunch of idiotic menaces they were and when they finally do (but not without giving you the finger), your shoulders sag, a heavy sigh escaping your lips just as your manager inches his way towards you, shaking her head as she helps by handing you the mop.
“This is coming out of your paycheck unfortunately,” she mutters under her breath before going back to her station.
Your eyes sting with unshed tears (you were already feeling a bit rundown due to the non stop rain and you had several papers due tonight) and now this.
Can’t you just catch a break?
Some of the more long term patrons offer you consoling glances as you pass them by to go clean up and you shoot them a tired but grateful smile nonetheless.
Once you’re done with things, you go back to the counter to tend to the next batch of customers, hoping they weren’t as mean to you as those blonde bimbos had been.
-
They say time flies by quickly when you’re happy doing what you love but to say you loved working was an overstatement.
It’s not like you were poor. You came from a good and loving family (despite your parents being gone all the time) with money, and one word to them would leave you with a few thick bills in your disposal.
But you didn’t want to remain dependent, stemming from a mindset that you were an only child and you would eventually (and sadly) have to learn to navigate your entire rest of your life once your parents are gone.
Hence you wanted as much practice as you could get.
However, with merely an undergraduate, not many high paying jobs will take on a college student buried in loans, so you took to the streamline and applied at the nearest Starbucks.
You loved the smell of coffee anyway and though you weren’t a barista, you were quite efficient at pushing buttons so you’ve been told.
In the least, you liked your job but not enough to be willing to stay after hours, so when Kai comes in for the next shift, you happily hand your apron over to him. “Here, good luck!” You singsong and get the fuck out of there, not giving your friend a chance to respond mainly because he looked even grumpier than you had been going in to work.
It was still raining even if it was already half past ten in the evening (yes, your boss operated twenty four seven), and you hazard a glance at your phone to see whether any of your best friends had even bothered to check in.
Well no, apparently not. Though your other boss, Eugene, (yes, you had two jobs because student loans are fucking killer) did tell you not to come in tomorrow as the energy in the shop was not going to be pleasant and you send him a response, already knowing that he’s chastising you in his own weird way to get the day off because he knew you got sick easily when it got cold.
With a shiver, you run to your car, umbrella in hand and turn on the heat at full blast once inside.
Anyone who asks you how you could afford an expensive ride with a cashier’s daily wage, you just shrug and let them assume you were a sugar baby. It was more fun that way.
You sneeze before you could even step on the pedal, and you grow nervous, hand feeling your forehead. Well at least you weren’t running a fever. But you did feel a bit dizzy…
Ignoring the slight discomfort, you blend through the highway traffic, hoping you don’t faint.
-
You don’t faint. In fact you nearly faint and hastily park your vehicle to an emergency stop clearing where fewer cars drove through.
Harsh water pelts the roof of the Bentley and you wish you brought your noise cancelling earphones to at least drown out the low, metallic rumble from the now full on thunderstorm.
Afraid of getting hit with one of those stray lightnings, you had kept away from any trees and instead held yourself front and center in an open field where a murderer in a mask would most likely drag you to Christ knows where.
Not feeling up to continuing risking your health, you ask one of the guys to come get you but you are merely left on read.
Fuck.
It was an hour to midnight and you don’t think it was safe for women to be out by themselves in the middle of nowhere. Groaning, you gently lay your head on the cool window, when your phone rings.
Renewed hope wells within you only to be shot down with a flaming arrow when Taemin’s voice bounces from the other line. “Heya, neighbor!” He chirps a little too enthusiastically for your liking.
Your head was already pounding and it doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.
You hum lightly, tracing invisible circles in the air and he instantly notices. “YNie? Are you okay? You don’t sound so hot. ”
“Well, I am cold…” You murmur, closing your lids for a brief moment for respite from the drudgery of it all.
You can hear a few people in the background and Taemin shuts them up, baritone serious as if just then remembering that you were a sickly goose. “Oh shit, are you somewhere dry and warm? Baby, where are you?”
“Is that Kai? Did he manage to skip work and go to that stupid Beta Tau Sigma party after all?”
“No, now I said shut your mouths, didn’t I?” Your sweet neighbor calls out with a lowly growl, something you haven’t heard for a long time, and all laughter ceases.
Woah. That’s hot.
And wait, you didn’t hear about any type of parties happening with Bangtan tonight? If you would they would have told you and you would have been a good girl and not gotten in their way (that is lock yourself in your room but leave through the fire escape and sleep over at your own apartment, possibly hang out with Taeminie and binge watch a few Netflix episodes of Kotaro lives alone).
Beta Tau Sigma threw subtle parties where alcohol was plenty and sometimes women and drugs were involved. You had to learn weed butter recipe for the guys at some point just so Jin wouldn’t strangle the maknaes for basically slaughtering every carton of milk they could find in the kitchen to curb their failed attempts at churning a presentable lump of pimped dairy.
You loved your best friends to death (and are in love with them sadly) but the Beta Tau Sigma fraternity tended to go all out at house gatherings and you’d rather not accidentally intrude in case one of them decides fucking someone in your home was fine.
Especially if it were one of your boys. Well not your boys. Anyway.
Gathering what little strength you have left as the drowsiness was taking over, you clumsily send your coordinates to your friend on the other end of the line.
A bellow reaches your ears and you shy away from the angry voice. “You are fucking where?! Stay there, YN. Like hell you’re going back home in that condition. ”
Huh? Did you tell him you were sick or something?
“Okay,” you mumble, unaware that you were succumbing to sleep.
-
“Shit, she’s burning up!”
“Hurry, pass me that cold pack!”
“Anyone started on the hot broth yet?”
“Yeah, over here. ”
“When the fuck is Kai coming back with the cold medicine?”
Blearily, your eyes open a millimeter, only to close once more as they feel heavy under the bright lights.
Who were these people again?
“Taemin-hyung, here.”
A brief mumble of thanks and then a wet cloth is pressed to your forehead. Instantly, you feel so much better already from the feel of the coolness.
“Ravi, can you…”
“Yeah, here.”
Someone helps you up gently, arms roped around your shoulders as you are put in a sitting position. Something hard slides between your lips followed by water and you subconsciously gulp whatever it was down.
You cough a bit only for hands to scrabble at your back in up down motions and then you’re lying on the softest bed you have ever felt.
“Taemin, I can take it from here. You go help Sungwoon with the chicken soup. ”
In the distance, rushed footsteps are heard as a door opens and closes with a click. The footsteps get nearer and a voice you recognize as your friend Kai’s comes barrelling through with a whisper. “Where is she? Oh shit, YN. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice earlier!”
A hand touches your burning cheek and you nuzzle into it.
“Did you tell them?”
“What?”
“ Bangtan. ”
“Fuck no. I mean I ran into Jimin awhile back, they were picking up some food as I was leaving and when I asked if YN got home okay, they weren’t even aware she had left already. ”
A sigh and then you are shifted to the left as a weight on your right settles, hands coming to stroke your hair.
“No shit? If I ever come across Bangtan, I am pummeling their pretty boy faces. How could they leave her like this? All for a fucking house party? I’m so glad I refused Park Jimin’s invitation to join all those years ago. ”
The hand in your hair pauses. “…It’s uh, I think they have weed in there so they might be high for a bit. That may explain why they’re pretty much out of it. ”
“Honest to God if they ditched her for a fuck, I will murder them. ”
Murmurs of agreement float through the room and your brain shuts down, not even thinking about the entire conversation you’ve overheard.
Not until the next morning where you are left alone with your thoughts (your friends had their own lives and own work so you couldn’t fault them for leaving you unattended–at least they made a mean breakfast and set up your bath and even gave you a change of spare clothes and some medicine to go with it) and decide to run to Yin Yang Quatro, teary eyed and heart broken because not one of Bangtan had even left a text.
Guess your friendship with the seven men wasn’t that important after all.
END OF FLASHBACK.
Now Taemin wasn’t a vindictive person.
He wasn’t also one to be easily angered.
In fact, he was the most patient out of all of his friends.
And yet when it came to YN, his neighbor, his friend, he would do anything for her.
In fact they (Sungwoon, Ravi, and Kai) would be willing to walk through fire for her.
It was a pact they took once they decided to help the unconscious girl behind their apartment’s trashcan whom they would later come to know as YN, the most beautiful human being on earth, inside and out.
So when rumors of her getting smashed and cut with the art club’s glass prop started circulating, he had to find out.
And now the four of them were standing before her hospital bed, emotions simmering wildly under the promise of hurting whoever did this to her.
Kai especially was quiet and the guy hardly had nothing to say. Not with his affiliation to Beta Tau Sigma as some sort of honorary member.
“Did they come visit her yet?” Sungwoon asks through gritted teeth as he stares off into space, refusing to acknowledge the reality in front of him so soon.
Ravi frowns as he surveys the damage on YN. Bandaged head, patched up cheeks, and bandages all over her arms and hands. Shit. How was she going to continue working if she woke up? “Yeah. The doctors said they did. ”
Taemin, for all the anger bubbling up inside of him was quick to stamp it out like a lighted cigarette. Cancer sticks they say. “Good. One less fly off the wall. ”
“Or seven. ”
Eyes flash deadly. If there was one thing they were going to do, they were going to search for YN’s soul and bring her back.
They knew YN. They knew everything about her. And they accepted it all. Even if she were to be haunted by some old woman’s ghost or whatever.
Even if they had to make a deal with the devil himself.
They loved her that much.
They were going to have to make a quick trip to Yin Yang Quatro.
Eugene Lee Yang might be the answer to their problems.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Implied Sex, Implied unrequited feelings, Minor cussing, Implied accident
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 3: The Boys from the Tree House
FLASHBACKS
The Always HARD-y Boys
Namjoon
Hyungs, did you see where YN ran off to?
Yoongi
Not really, no. Why?
Jin
Of course you wouldn’t. You’re busy tapping some girl again, aren’t you?
Yoongi
Try walking in on YN naked before you judge me. My dick isn’t going to beat its own meat ya know
Namjoon
Okay, first off. Ew, hyung. Second, we’ve got an exam coming up unlike some people.
Jin
Yah, weren’t you just shoving your own dick down someone else’s throat a few weeks ago, Joon-ah?
Namjoon
This and that are two completely opposite matters. Also, ever seen YN touching herself in the tub before?
Yoongi
WHAT
Jin
Did you at least take a fucking picture?
Namjoon
Yah, hyung. Inside my brain.
Yoongi
Jin
Yah.
Hobi
Ayyy, what did I miss?
Noona’s McD’s McNaes
McTaeTae
Noonaaaaa
YNoona
What kid
Chim’s Burger
What she said
Gukie Spaghetti
Yeah
McTaeTae
I feel attacked.
Anyway, since you’re all here, I need you to come meet me at the rec hall chop chop!
YNoona
Uh-oh, I smell photographer Vante
Chim’s Burger
You’re not going to make us do another weird cosplay shit again, are you?
Gukie Spaghetti
I’m out losers
McTaeTae
Why are you people so mean to me?
And no. We’re doing normal stuff today.
I need it to boost my final GPA.
YNoona
…If you say so, then I guess I could come over right now.
Chim’s Burger
…Fine.
Gukie Spaghetti
I swear to God if you’re lying, hyung
Beta Tau Sigma
Taehyung
Image sent
YNie’s breasts in this corset are just fantastic, aren’t they? Feel so blessed
Read by Namjoon and 5 others
Neighbors from across the hall
Taeminie
Hey, YN! Uh, I have some friends over and they don’t fit in my apartment.
Just…is it possible for some of them to stay in yours?
I promise they’re really neat and organized and are not robbers so…
YNie
Oh yah! Sure no probz. Key is still under the rug.
Taeminie
Oh yay! Thanks a bunch. I’ll just wire you back for whatever they use and stuff.
Also have the bill receipts out for you by mail.
Image sent
I mean they’ve piled up pretty much.
YNie
Woah, shit I completely forgot lmao
You know, with finals and all.
Anywho…
No! Don’t do that! My uh, family tends to go through my mail before I even get them and they have no idea I even own an apartment let alone somewhere not so nice… no offense to us.
I mean that’s all I can afford so…
Yeah.
I’ll just come over to pick them up tomorrow so can you keep them for now?
Taeminie
Oh! Oh, right! Right of course.
And not offended.
Our place is a fucking pig sty.
Not to worry, I’ll definitely keep our dirty little secret a secret
YNie
Thanks, Taeminie! You’re the bestest neighbor a girl could hope for.
I’ll def bring you some of your favorite cereals as thanks for putting up with my drunken ass last week.
Taeminie
Yeah about that. Whoever those men are, they don’t deserve your love, babe.
Haven’t met them yet but I know they’re grade A assholes even if they’re your best friends.
I mean who the fuck ditches movie night with a beautiful girl like you for a horny one night stand?
Definitely won’t be me.
YNie
Aw thanks, Tae. That’s so sweet.
At least they’re not having sex inside the house.
That shit will hurt me even more.
Taeminie
…Are you maybe free tonight? Come down here earlier. Maybe we need to have another talk, love.
Self worth and all that jazz.
Because clearly you need to be reminded that you are a wonderful, gorgeous, human being.
YNie
Yes, please
Beta Tau Sigma
Yoongi
Hey, did YN come home yet?
Hoseok
Same question
Jin
Why? Finally ditched your women for her have you?
Namjoon
Strange. I had my last class after hers so she should be here before me.
Jeongguk
Her car isn’t in the garage?
Jimin
Wdym?!
Taehyung
Hey funny story. I think I just saw another Bentley right by Highway 54 ten minutes ago. Looked like YN’s car?
And here I thought we gave her the and I quote “only one of its kind” edition?
Yoongi
What.
And yes, hyungie. It’s movie night tonight, why wouldn’t we not stop thinking with our god damn cocks for once?
Say that again Taehyung-ah?
Namjoon
Did you at least get the license plate?
Taehyung
Yeah, it’s YN-0613…13…Hey wait
Hoseok
Isn’t that YN’s license plate????
Read by Jimin and 5 others
…where’d all of you go–guys?!!!
Yoongi curses as he scours the University’s CCTV (he had befriended the guards with the amount of hours he spends inside the music studio and now he was privy to every recorded footage, yes even that one drunken mistake where Namjoon railed a chick in the library after hours), sharp eyesight staring at every car passing through the blurry screen.
His hair is so disheveled, lips bitten so roughly one would think he spent his time eating pussy when all he could think of was fucking finding you.
It was goddamned three in the fucking morning and you have yet to respond to all of their texts and miscalls.
Were you even alive godammit?!
You’re usually not one to leave them hanging for anything so this behavior was a little bit worrying.
So help him if you were fornicating with some guy who wasn’t pre-approved by him and the others—
He grits his teeth, blood boiling just at the thought of you fucking someone else for reasons he didn’t want to dwell on.
Yet.
The rest of his brothers are nervously watching every little movement trying to just seeif they could spot anything that would give an indication as to where you went exactly.
Only to be sorely disappointed when they spend a fruitless search leading them back home to wait for you.
But you don’t show up until the very next day, grumpy and seated on a lonely bench inside the cafeteria while women instantly flock towards them before they could even get to you at that point.
And then you up and leave just as the youngest three manage to break the crowd that had formed and run after you…
Only, it was too late as they don’t find you anywhere.
Next thing they know, your accident spreads around the school like wildfire, damaging the only peace that Bangtan Sonyeondan has protected at all costs.
FratBoys! BTS x Comatose!Reader (A bit of a slow burn. Just a very teensy bit.)
Supernatural Fluff and angst with a happy ending. Smut will be implied. (For the NSFW, DdoveDE, PWP, check out my other page @clutterfied)
Comment for tags.
Thank you to all who are reading this series. You make this and myself included come alive. 고맙습니다.
Synopsis
You vowed that if you were ever going to die one day, the first thing your ghost would do is haunt the seven men who were nothing but a pain in the ass for you.
Or due to a freak accident, you find yourself staring at your own body lying on the hospital bed. The strange thing was, there were seven insanely gorgeous men crying over you. Huh.
All standard disclaimers apply. All banner edits are mine save for the image backgrounds used which belong to their respective creators.
Update schedule: No definite date. Random. Anytime. BTS could be dropping a post right now and I might just be inspired to drop a chapter.
➻ yn just got out of a bad relationship and it’s in the “I hate men” phase, the last thing she needs is a new guy in her life… but what happens when she meets Park Jimin, a sweet and gorgeous guy that makes her heart beats faster than a drum? Will she be ready to trust again?
➻ yn just got out of a bad relationship and it’s in the “I hate men” phase, the last thing she needs is a new guy in her life… but what happens when she meets Park Jimin, a sweet and gorgeous guy that makes her heart beats faster than a drum? Will she be ready to trust again?
Warnings:Subby Jimin, kinda/sorta but also not really??
WHY AM I SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS? I’ve almost posted this so many times, but then I keep thinking “but you’ve waited so long to, what if it isn’t worth the wait?” and so then I don’t and then when I go to post it again, i’ve made you wait even longer and so the ritual continues. Maybe this time I’ll actually press ‘post’.
____________
“I was actually attracted to your personality, but I like that you look good, too” - Unknown
….
As we made our way to the front podium, the hostess didn’t spare me much of a glance, but I didn’t take offense. I’d much rather look at Hoseok and Jimin, too.
She straightened her posture but had enough dignity not to thrust out her chest. She was actually very beautiful and I couldn’t help the once-over I gave. She was the kind of girl that stabbed you in the self-esteem, just by walking into a room. Still hot though.
“Hello! Welcome, do you have a reservation?” She spoke directly to Hoseok, who had waltzed in like he owned the joint.
“Hoseok Jung.” He announced loud and clear. It was obvious by his brief, dismissive tone that he had about as much interest in her as he did the painting on the wall. I pursed my lips at his behavior. This wasn’t my environment, though, and I didn’t know what was normal or expected so I kept my mouth shut.
The woman led us through the building and out onto the back deck where fairy lights lent their gentle glow and the live band played a soft, calming melody. Almost every table was filled, but they’d been spaced far enough apart that the quiet chatter wasn’t disturbing and instead added a nice touch to the ambiance.
I could feel the rush of excitement hit me, never having eaten by the water like this before. Hoseok was still handling any and all interactions, so I turned to Jimin with wide eyes to express my joy. He returned my look of awe with a wink before motioning for me to sit in the chair he’d pulled out. Hoseok sat down as well and the hostess bid us a good night.
We’d barely settled in and picked up our menus before a cute, doe-eyed boy appeared beside Jimin, introducing himself.
“Good evening, my name is Adrian, I will be your server tonight. May I start you off with something to drink?”
“Just water, thank you,” Jimin smiled politely in that enchanting way of his and Adrian just blinked owlishly at him for a moment. Jimin’s smile faded and he raised his eyebrows in question, snapping the poor boy out of it, a blush warming his face.
“Yes, of course, I’ll be right back with that.” I’d never seen someone walk away so quickly.
Jimin turned his attention back to the table, a knowing smirk making its way onto his lips and I knew he knew the effect he had on people.
Not wanting to get caught up in Jimin’s charm, too, I turned to look at Hoseok, only to find he was already staring.
“See anything you like?” He asked, nodding to the menu in my hands.
“O-oh. Right.” I tore my gaze away from his and scanned the options. Understandably it was mostly seafood and although I was known to be a picky eater, I’d never tried lobster before and I wanted to. That was until I took a look at the prices.
Squinting my eyes, I looked up at Hoseok, gathering the courage to ask, “You’re paying, right?”
Jimin didn’t even try to hide his giggle, but I didn’t take my eyes off Hoseok.
He grinned, radiantly, “Yes.”
“In that case, can I try the lobster?” Jimin’s giggle broke out into a full laugh (that, contrary to human nature, was not loud or obnoxious at all). Hoseok looked thoroughly amused as well, but unlike his usual happy-go-lucky self, he was holding it together.
I smiled sheepishly at my bold comment but was relieved to see that he hadn’t taken any offense.
The night carried on smoothly after that. Adrian had collected himself and returned the epitome of professionalism. Hoseok had my attention most of the night, flirting and making me laugh. I hadn’t noticed before, but he was extremely charming and I found myself having to remind myself to not catch feelings. Jimin was fairly silent the whole night, but in a comfortable way, leaning back into his chair and observing.
By the end of the night, we were all a little tipsy, giggling our way down the beach. Hoseok had an arm over my shoulder as we tried to walk in time with each other.
“Awe~,” I whined, stopping.
“What’s wrong, Jagi?” He hummed contentedly as he rested his head on my shoulder.
“My shoes! I have to—oops!” I cut off, almost losing my balance when I lifted my leg up to take them off. I was slightly more intoxicated than I’d realized.
“I’ll do it!” Jimin pranced over from where he’d been toeing the waves. He’d drank more than either Hoseok or me, so he was teetering on the edge of fucking drunk, and it was apparent in the way his movements swayed.
He dropped into a crouch before me and began unbuckling my shoes, biting his plump lower lip in concentration. I couldn’t help the sharp breath I inhaled when he looked up at me with an easy grin after he’d successfully removed the first shoe. When he finished removing the other, tossing them both carelessly to the side, he let himself tip backward onto the sand — landing like a starfish. I watched with a stupid grin as Hoseok took it as an invitation to jump on top of him and pinch his cheeks.
The two busied themselves rolling around in the sand, roughhousing, so I turned my attention to the waves, feeling the cool sea breeze envelop me. Although it was a little chilly, it was refreshing.
A startled shriek left my lips as I was abruptly — and quite literally — pulled from my thoughts and I came crashing down. There was a moment of laughter between the two and I couldn’t help but join in in their contagious sounds of joy.
We ended up laying there, just looking at the black, starless sky. I didn’t know how long the comfortable silence went on for before it was broken, but it was a treasured moment of peace that felt like forever. My thoughts hadn’t been that quiet in…I couldn’t remember how long.
“You look lovely in this dress,” Jimin murmured out of nowhere, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I turned my head to look at him, wondering absently how long he’d been watching me.
I wasn’t sober enough to get embarrassed or shy from his comment, so I just smiled and returned the compliment.
“You look ‘cutie, sexy, lovey’,” I teased, repeating what I’d heard him say a couple of times, but my amusement faded when I looked him up and down, “Maybe just ‘sexy, lovely’.” I corrected myself.
“Jagiya, why do you have to live so far away?” Hoseok suddenly asked, leaning in to rest his head on my lap. The atmosphere instantly became more somber at his reminder.
“Hey, I’m not the one moving to an entirely different country.” I evaded, booping his nose in an attempt to lighten the mood.
He scowled and pushed my hand away, sitting up to face Jimin.
“Jiminie, you’re so lucky, you got to kiss her!” He whined and my eyes went wide.
“I know.” Jimin sighed, a little too dreamily for my piece of mind.
“I—he—what?” I stuttered. What was happening?
Hoseok cupped my blushing cheeks, staring intently into my eyes. “Can I kiss you, Jagi?”
I froze, unable to process. My blood was rushing in my ears, making it hard to think, which resulted in my dumbass nodding my consent.
My eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his lips gently pecking mine. With his hands still cupping my cheeks, it went down in the books as the sweetest kiss I’d ever received.
I blamed the wine in my veins for my next move.
Surging forward as he began to pull back, I latched my lips onto his in a deep kiss, stunning him for a moment. He recovered quickly, his grip becoming tighter.
We made out like that, awkwardly sprawled in the sand, until a movement to my side caught my attention like a bucket of ice water being poured on me. I sprung back from Hoseok as I remembered Jimin’s presence.
Shit. Shit.Shit!What was I doing?!
Looking at Jimin, he met my gaze with a dark look, his head tilted to the side almost erotically — like an invitation to mark up his neck.
I quickly shook the thought from my head. “No, no, no, I didn’t mean to do that.” I stood up, backing away from them.
“Tasia, wait.” Hoseok rushed, jumping up to follow. I quickened my pace.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.” Shame enveloped me as I recalled my actions.
I was in love with my best friend, yet I kissed his friends? Did Jungkook know I’d kissed Jimin? What would he think if he knew I’d now kissed Hoseok, too?
He would think I was a disgusting, two-timing, bitch.And he wouldn’t be wrong, because both kisses were equally amazing and as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn’t bring myself to wish they never happened.
They were so different. Hoseok was sweet and firm, gentlemanly but in charge. Jimin was passionate and needy, like a fire being lit inside. When they kissed me, it felt like I’d never been kissed before, like anything before them didn’t exist.
Stop thinking about it!
“Anastasia.” Something in Jimin’s voice made me stop, but I resisted turning around to face him. I felt his presence come up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and planting a gentle kiss on my exposed neck.
I didn’t dare react. My body refused to pull away, but I had just enough self-control not to lean in.
“I liked it.” His smooth, angelic voice murmured in my ear, “I liked watching. You looked so good together, I just wanted to watch.” His arms held me tighter against him, his hand trailing up to rest just under my breast. “I wanted to see what you looked like, all flushed and stretched around him. Would you let me watch? Would you let me watch him fuck you dumb? I’ll be good, I won’t touch.”
My gaze became lustful at the image he painted. “Ji-Jimin.” I stuttered and it was all I could do not to moan as his warm hand palmed my chest, contradicting the promise he’d just made.
“Yes, Jagi?” He answered between gentle kisses and suckles on my neck.
“I…” I licked my lips, trying to force a coherent thought that wasn’t just Jimin.
“Jimin.” I jumped at the stern tone of Hoseok’s voice. Jimin’s response was immediate as he sighed and pulled away. I instantly missed his touch.
“Next time.” Jimin promised when I faced him, licking his lips as he stared shamelessly.
We ended up taking a lift home, as none of us were in any state to drive. I was squished in the middle seat between the two, Hoseok’s hand resting absentmindedly on my thigh as he stared out the window. I kept having to remind myself every time his thumb brushed back and forth that it would not be a good idea to jump his bones.
Self-control. I repeated to myself.
When we arrived, I almost shoved Jimin out of the car in my rush to get out and he let out a grunt of surprise at the force with which I blew past him. My whole body was flushed and I knew I had to get away from these sex gods before I made a mistake I couldn’t come back from.
“Jagiya,” Hoseok hummed and I paused, against my better judgment, long enough for him to reach me and pull me into his arms. “We won’t fuck you tonight—,” Jimin made a noise of complaint, “—so let us walk you in, yeah?”
Looking into Hoseok’s warm eyes, I knew, I knew he was being manipulative. I didn’t miss his ‘tonight’, implying it wouldhappen another night, I wasn’t so naïve to believe they had any kind of pure intentions for me, but I was dumb. So, so dumb that I nodded my head and let them lead me up the stairs and into my home.
I know it took forever, my brain kind of wants to die, but I’m actually excited for this chapter so let me know what you think
——————–
A small scream slipped out of you as you dropped into a ball, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“Close your eyes!” You cried, hoping whoever had just walked in hadn’t seen anything, and if they did, just assumed you had a closet fetish for dressing like a girl.
Your head pounded with the sound of your heart racing and your blood rushing. Eyes squeezed shut, you fought off the rising panic in your throat.
Silence ensued after a soft click of the door shutting and you waited with bated breath for someone to speak. You knew they were still in the room, you could feel their presence, but neither of you made a move or said a word.
Feeling pale as chalk, you tentatively opened your eyes, one at a time. You couldn’t help the way they snapped shut again at the sight of Taehyung before you.
“The other two will be up soon,” You flinched at the sound of his deep voice, “if you don’t want them to find out, I’d get dressed.”
Your head jerked up, eyes meeting his intense, expressionless stare. What was he thinking? What did he suspect? Was he going to tell?
He wasn’t giving you anything to go on!
Diverting your attention to the floor, you muttered, “Don’t look.”
He didn’t argue and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him silently leave the room.
Your thoughts raced as you rushed to get dressed (in the safety of a locked bathroom). You had just pulled down your pullover sweater when someone burst through the door.
“Ellie~” You hated the way your chest clenched when Jimin singsonged the nickname.
You cleared your throat anxiously before answering “in here”, not trusting that Taehyung had kept what he’d seen a secret.
Packing your belongings into your shower bag, you nervously ran a hand through your hair and stepped out from the bathroom.
You didn’t even make it a full step before an overexcited Jimin ran into your arms, coming to hide behind you.
Once the moment of surprise passed, you understood the situation as Jungkook came barreling into the room after him. His eyes flit across the room, swiftly settling on you and it was clear that he was calculating the fastest way to get Jimin. You shrunk back into the man perched behind you, preparing for impact. Jimin giggled.
“Wait, wait, wait,” You held up your available hand, hoping to delay Jungkook’s attack until after you were out of the way. Whatever Jimin had done had nothing to do with you and you were pleading for Jungkook to remember that.
Jungkook’s sharp gaze turned to you, “This is aiding and abetting.”
You couldn’t stop the surprised scoff that left you at his unexpected words. Turning to look over your shoulder, you asked, “What did you do?”
Pulling back, he raised his hands and shook his head innocently.
“Nothing!” He promised.
Taking the opportunity to move away, you shuffled over to your bed, placing your shower bag on the floor. At that moment, Taehyung waltzed in and took in the commotion in the room, his eyes hesitating a second longer on you. Your shoulders tensed and your heartbeat picked up, but he didn’t say anything and instead turned his attention to the other two.
Jungkook and Jimin were shoving each other, but it was obvious from the massive smiles on their faces that it was all fun and games. When they noticed Taehyung, they split apart and Jimin went over to him and slid an arm over his shoulders. Taehyung didn’t react, having some kind of silent conversation with Jungkook that sent your nerves spiraling.
Jimin didn’t seem to have any interest in the exchange, which made you feel a little less paranoid, but you still had unease set deep inside you. His hand was absentmindedly tracing patterns into Taehyung’s clavicle, his gaze lazily tracing the room until it landed on you. The unexpected eye-contact almost made you jump, but you managed to shove down the instinctual response. The mischievous grin that made its way onto his lips had you fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. You didn’t know what that look meant and you were afraid to find out.
In a way that almost looked like he was dancing, Jimin turned away from Taehyung and took a step towards you.
“You guys don’t usually come back on the weekends,” You forced out in an attempt to stop Jimin from coming too close and making your stomach feel funny.
Although he didn’t embrace you in one of his hugs, he did come to sit beside where you stood and grabbed your hand, playing with your fingers absentmindedly.
Would you ever get used to how familiar he acted with you? As far as he knew, you were a boy. Why was he being so touchy? Was he into men? You didn’t know what to think or how to act, so you just did your best to ignore it.
“Jimin wanted to see you,” Jungkook outed with a giggle. You stiffened.
“Yeah, after Jungkook mentioned that it might seem like we were avoiding you,” Jimin tugged at your hand to get you to look at him, “You know we aren’t avoiding you, right?” He looked up at you with wide, sincere eyes.
You gulped, barely managing a nod. It hadn’t even occurred to you that they might be avoiding you. They didn’t have any reason to be around you in the first place, much less a reason to avoid you. At least they didn’t have a reason until…
You glanced at Taehyung. He’d moved to lay on his bed, Jungkook beside him, staring at you. His hair was getting longer, reaching past his cheeks now. He pulled off the overgrown-mane look much better than you did.
“Let’s go eat something,” Taehyung suggested, suddenly sitting up. Jungkook lit up at the idea, scrambling off the bed.
“Korean barbeque?” He looked like a bunny, bouncing after Taehyung.
Because your attention was diverted, you didn’t notice Jimin leaning closer until it was too late. You let out a squeal as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up.
“Let’s go!” He cheered, manhandling you out the door.
“I don’t—wait!” Your pleas fell on deaf ears as Jungkook joined in and you were muscled into the elevator.
Jimin started rattling off all the reason’s Korean barbeque was the superior food as Jungkook pressed the button for the ground floor and the elevator doors slid shut.
“What’s your favorite food?” You jumped at the unexpected voice in your ear and turned to see Taehyung tilting his head curiously at you.
Jimin and Jungkook fell silent, looking equally as curious to know your opinion.
“I-I don’t know.” It was the most honest answer you could give.
“Have you ever tried Korean food?” Jungkook asked. You were hesitant to answer because if you said no, then they would probably force you to try it, and if you said yes…well that was a straight up lie, one you had no way to back up.
You shook your head no and held in the dread as they took your hands and waited for the doors to open.
When the four of you got to the parking lot, a fight of who got shotgun broke out, but it quickly changed to a fight over who got to sit next to you.
“You’re his roommate! You get to spend time with him all the time!” Jimin accused Taehyung.
“No, I’m too busy with you two.” He denied calmly.
“What about me?” Jungkook whined.
“It’s your car, you have to drive,” Jimin waved off, turning back to Taehyung. You felt like the new toy in kindergarten that everyone wanted to play with.
“Don’t fight, I’ll just stay here. You guys go have fun.”
You all ended up on the bus.
The four of you had had to squish into two seats as the bus continued to fill with people. Taehyung had the window seat, staring out silently, you were half on his seat, half on Jungkook’s — who sat in the aisle seat — and Jimin was perched on his knee, holding the pole for balance.
You’d never been in a bus so packed, but you supposed that being in the city now, there were a lot more people who used public transportation.
“I’m staying home next time.” You grumbled, shifting slightly as the uncomfortable plastic dug into your bum — or lack thereof.
Nobody responded though you were sure that at least Taehyung had heard you.
The ride wasn’t long, (thank goodness) but your muscles were still becoming sore from clenching so hard in an attempt not to slam into either man every time the bus made a turn.
Jimin was up and excusing his way off the bus before you’d even realized it was your stop, Jungkook not far behind him. You immediately noticed the absence of Jungkook’s heat, though, and scrambled to follow after them. Of course, you had the decency to make sure Taehyung was following, unlike the other two who hadn’t bothered to look back even once.
Stepping out of the bus felt like stepping back into a room with breathable air. You weren’t sure you’d ever appreciated space so much.
Looking around, there weren’t many people on the streets, but that made sense as the weather was getting colder and no one wanted to be outside. You definitely didn’t want to be outside. The cold crept inside your bones like regret, leaving you shivering on the sidewalk.
“Where to?” You pushed, eager to get inside.
Jungkook must’ve noticed you stuffing your hands deep into the pockets of your ill-fitted jeans because he bounced over and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. With him hanging off you like an overgrown sloth, you both shuffled after Taehyung and Jimin, who led the way.
You’d had the entire bus ride to get used to their proximity, but you still weren’t completely comfortable with it. Your friends back home had always seen you as a little too fragile to manhandle or roughhouse, but they’d never questioned your weight because you’d always been an underweight kid, and well, they were male.
With Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook, you were afraid to show weakness or fragility, fearing they might ask questions about your health. With any normal person that wouldn’t have been an issue, but those three were just so damn touchy.
Jungkook’s warm breath fanned across your neck, creating goosebumps on your skin, but you resisted the shiver that threatened to follow.
You didn’t end up having to walk far, the smell of Korean barbeque filling your senses.
“Smells good, huh?” There was a smugness to Jimin’s expression, prompting you not to respond and you shifted your gaze to the road.
…
After a waiter put hot coals into the small barbeque in the center of the table, you eagerly held out your hands to the warmth it gave off. You’d been inside for more than fifteen minutes and you had yet to stop shivering. In fact, the shivering had gotten worse.Jimin worried his bottom lip as he assessed you and you gave him, what you hoped, was a reassuring smile.
The more pressing issue was the heavy smell of food in the air that caused your stomach to roll. You hadn’t eaten in a while and the richness of it all was making you nauseous — though you weren’t about to admit that.
Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook ordered for you, as you’d never tried anything Korean before. It was all their favorites and you were intimidated by the amount when everything was set on the table.
“Try this!” Jimin ordered, thrusting what looked like salsa dipped cabbage in your face. You couldn’t bring yourself to deny the beautiful man, so you opened your mouth and took the bite, knowing full well you’d be throwing everything up later that night. The pleased look on all their faces made it worth it.
I know It’s short, I’m sorry, I’ve been dealing with some things at home. I haven’t had a chance to edit this because I just really wanted to get it out. Tomorrow morning I’ll edit it! Thank you for all the love and support, I love you.
______________
Classes soon started and for a little over a week, you didn’t see much of your roommate or his friends. The few times you had run into them had been brief and barely more than a “hey,” before someone was rushing out the door or to a class.
You’d also learned pretty quick just how well known the trio was, although to you, their popularity didn’t quite add up because they didn’t really do anything. At least not that you’d seen.
You were lounged under a tree in one of the courtyards with the two friends you’d managed to make, when the topic of Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook came up.
“Man, look at them. Their life seems so easy!” Gabriel, your lanky red-headed friend groaned, his words saturated with jealousy.
You paused reviewing your notes, glancing up to follow his gaze to the three men that had just walked out of one of the lounge areas. Nothing they were doing was any different from the dozen other students scattered around the courtyard, so you looked to your friend quizzically.
“It does?”
Your second friend, Cody, piped up, “Yes! Look at them! They’re so handsome, rich, and everyone around them loves them!”
You didn’t really understand how that made studying, passing tests, and generally living college life easy, but for all you knew, it could.
“Oh,” your interest ended there and you returned to your notes.
Conversation died down after that, everyone resuming their studies. A good ten minutes of comfortable silence passed before something happened.
“Want a bite?” You, Cody, and Gabriel all jumped at the unexpected presence as a piece of sushi was held in front of you, Jimin’s recognizable ringed fingers expertly holding it with chopsticks.
You leaned to the side, turning your head back to look at the man crouched behind you. His blonde hair was brushed back, highlighting the earrings dangling from his ears, and with the way the sweater he wore hung loosely on his frame, you weren’t entirely convinced it was his.
You managed to shake your head at his offer, too scared to open your mouth for fear you would stutter. He pouted at your denial and as if it was a reflex to his disappointment, your mouth dropped open. Grinning, he shoved the sushi slice into your mouth before you had a chance to change your mind.
Gauging your reaction as you slowly chewed, he smiled blindingly.
“It’s good, right?” He encouraged a response so you nodded. You couldn’t remember the last time you had sushi.
A clearing of the throat grabbed your attention and you turned to your friends. They both looked at you with wide, questioning eyes.
Your ears got hot and you reached for your water bottle to wash down the bite of food. You almost choked when Jimin made himself comfortable next to you, giving the others with you a nod, his expression neutral. Polite.
Gabriel and Cody were all too excited to introduce themselves, no doubt hoping to get in Jimin’s friend circle. The three boys chatted for a bit, but Jimin didn’t seem particularly interested in what they were saying and you were suddenly much too shy for casual conversation. A common occurrence when Jimin, Taehyung, or Jungkook were involved.
Eventually, Taehyung and Jungkook wandered over as well — much to Gabriel and Cody’s delight. Your hands became clammy as you avoided their gazes, eyes repeatedly scanning over the same paragraph in your notes but not retaining any information.
After that, word got out that you were Taehyung’s roommate and people seemed to think that meant you were somehow super close with the three men, which was not true.
“What are they like? You know, behind the scenes.” You were asked, having been cornered after class by a few peers.
“Uh-I, I’m not sure?”
“Can I come over to yours?”
“I don’t think that’s…” You struggled to find words.
“We should be friends!”
“A-alright.”
“Do you want to grab lunch with-”
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” You abruptly cut off, hating the amount of attention that was on you. Ducking away, you rushed back to your dorm room.
When you reached your dorm, you were overjoyed to find it unoccupied. You’d met your quota of human interaction for the week and planned to stay in the dorm until your next class on Monday. You were excited because you found that on the weekends, Taehyung & Company were nowhere to be found.
Dumping your belongings onto your bed, you dug around in your bag for your notebook and laptop. Taking a seat at the shared desk between yours and Taehyung’s bed, you buckled down and did your homework.
It took a few hours, but eventually, all your work was finished and you were able to just relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. First, though, you wanted to take a shower.
Gathering all your necessary belongings, you slipped into the bathroom and began our shower routine.
About 45 minutes later, you were out and getting ready to get dressed, only to realize you must’ve dropped your underwear on the floor.
Peaking your head out the door, your eyes searched the room to make sure it was still empty. It was. You stepped out, your hair in a towel, clothes in hand, eyeing the floor for your underwear.
Furrowing your brow, you became confused when you didn’t see them. You were sure you’d grabbed a pair.
Standing in the center of the room, you turned around for one last once over of the room. You did a double-take, noticing what looked suspiciously like your underwear in the little space between the end of your bed and the chest.
You didn’t even get the chance to make a move towards them before the door swung wide open…
The two’s argument, that lasted all the way back to the dorms, luckily came to an end when their attention was diverted by a group of men walking by. You concluded that Jungkook and Jimin were on very good terms with the group because they stopped helping unpack the car, wandered over, and began a very animated conversation with the group. Well, Jimin was animated, Jungkook was noticeably calmer.
Although you were relieved to once again be a part of the background, you were nervous to go back to your room without them. You didn’t know if Taehyung would be there and you weren’t quite ready to face him alone yet. You knew your fear was irrational — he was your dorm-mate, you’d have to face him at some point.
Stuffing two pillows under your arms, you struggled to collect all the bags in your hands. The lack of muscle on your thin and lanky frame proved an issue as you attempted to lift everything out of the trunk. Determined, you successfully heaved it out and trudged to the door. Using your elbow, you bumped the handicap button and the doors slowly swung open. Making your way to the elevator, the weight of everything making you waddle somewhat, you again used your elbow to try and press the button. After your third unsuccessful attempt, you huffed and set down all the bags, stuffing one of the pillows between your legs and angrily jabbed at the stubborn ‘up’ arrow. You glared at the steel doors in wait.
“Ellliee!” You heard him complain moments before he draped himself over you.
Never in your life had someone made you as uncomfortable as Jimin. Most men were put off by you — your soft features and smaller build making them fear their sexual orientation being questioned. A stupid fear, because so what? But they feared it all the same. Jimin, of course, being twice as beautiful as you had no reason to fear this. Not to mention, nothing and no one seemed to deter him and he acted like everyone was his best friend. It wouldn’t surprise you if everyone was his best friend.
Now, you didn’t exactly dislike him, but he definitely put you on edge. From what you’d learned in the hours you’d known him was that he was very touchy-feely. Always hanging off someone as if he lacked the ability to hold himself up. He was too comfortable and you were nevercomfortable.
Gently shrugging him off, so as not to hurt his feelings, you bent down to resituate the pillow back under your arm. As you began picking the bags back up, the distinct ding of the elevator met your ears.
Helping you out, almost absentmindedly, Jimin grabbed half the bags and stepped confidently into the small metal box. Making a move to follow his lead, you jumped when his head popped back out.
“Guess he’s taking the stairs,” he laughed when he didn’t see Jungkook. You didn’t comment.
As the doors closed and you slowly began to rise up, you can’t help it as your eyes trail to the man next to you. His attention is on whatever is on his phone screen, leaving you with the opening to admire his beauty. His jawline was surprisingly sharp, contradicting his otherwise soft facial features, rings adorned almost all of his fingers and you wondered if it was painful to hold the bags.
“Is Taehyung going to be there?” The words came out before you could properly think them through.
Luckily Jimin didn’t seem to think much of it as he shrugged, “I doubt it. I think he wants to avoid you about as much as you want to avoid him.”
You tried not to flush at his words, embarrassment coursing through you. Were you really that see-through?
Thankfully the arrival of your floor saved you from having to respond.
Unlocking your respective door, you dropped everything off by the bed.
“Ready to go?” Jimin asked, almost impatiently.
Just the thought of seeing Taehyung again had your stomach rolling, making you feel ill. He was scary.
“Actually, I think I’m gonna stay here and unpack,” you motioned back to your stuff.
Before Jimin could argue, Jungkook came in, unannounced.
“You didn’t hold the elevator,” he glared at Jimin.
You shrunk back under his stare, there was no way you were going out with them now, especially with Jungkook upset.
“More importantly, you don’t want to come and eat with us?” Jimin seemed genuinely offended as he turned to frown at you and you suddenly felt the pressing urge to take back your words, just to please him and return his smile.
Jungkook sobered up, “You don’t want to come?”
“I-I,” you felt like puking. It’d been a long time since you’d been this nervous.
“How can you not want to go? Le Fabricant de Pain has the best food in the world!” Jimin continued and Jungkook nodded in agreement.
“Did you do something?” He accused Jimin.
Jimin looked affronted, “No!”
“Please ignore Jimin, he has no respect for personal boundaries,” Jungkook apologized sincerely, for the first time all day looking genuinely annoyed with Jimin.
“I didn’t!” He insisted, hesitating for a second before looking at you. “Did I?”
You looked back and forth between the two.
“You guys should really go,” you said with a hint of finality, resisting the urge to wring your fingers. What you’d really meant was ‘You guys should really go eat without me’ but the words had gotten stuck in your throat and in turn come out of your mouth much too harshly.
They both looked visibly taken aback, not expecting your tone.
Jimin sobered, leaving the room without another word. Jungkook hesitated before following after him.
Shutting the door behind them, you let out a sigh of relief. It felt good to be alone again, almost euphoric after the stressful morning you’d had.
Methodically, you began to unpack your things, willfully falling into a calm state.
*****
*Taehyung’s POV (ish)*
The morning sun glared too brightly through the restaurant window, aggravating the painful throbbing in his head. The fact that Jungkook and Jimin were late only furthered his bristling annoyance. Briefly, he wondered if his new roomie would be tagging along.
Elliot Wiley, 19, born in Quincy, Illinois. 4.0 average, received a scholarship to St. Helena’s University. He mentally ran over everything he knew about the man he now shared a room with.
Man. He almost scoffed. Boy fit his character much more.
A firm clap on Taehyung’s back broke him from his thoughts. Immediately, he noticed the change in Jimin’s mood, his normal bubbly attitude considerably dampened as he sat across from Taehyung without a word.
Taehyung looked at Jungkook accusingly as he sat beside him, “What happened?”
Jungkook shrugged, “Elle told us to leave, Chim is upset,” he explained.
Taehyung raised his brows. Elliot didn’t strike him as the kind of person to say no to anyone, much less ask them to leave him alone. And as much as Elliot didn’t seem like one to say no, Jimin didn’t like to be told no. His mood was expected under the circumstances.
“Does he know you call him that?” He asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned back into his chair and took a sip from his iced tea.
“Call him what?” Jungkook had already moved on from the conversation and turned his attention to the menu, even though Taehyung knew he was going to get what he always got. The only thing that ever changed was his drink order.
“Elle.”
“Yes. It fits him better, don’t you think?” Jungkook responded, not looking up.
Taehyung hummed thoughtfully.
……
You walked out of the bathroom in clean clothing, towel drying your freshly washed hair, and jumped a little when an unexpected knock sounded at the door. Curiously, you cracked open the door. Standing on the other side were two overly excited females. You held back a grimace and instead forced a smile, opening the door a little more. They both looked a little startled at your appearance, but it didn’t deter them.
“Yes?” You urged, brows raised.
“Hey, i-is Taehyung Kim here?” One asked. She had bright magenta hair that complemented her caramel skin tone nicely. Not that you would ever tell her and risk focusing her attention on you.
You shook your head, “He’s out with some friends,” you made sure your words were vague enough that no one could be mad at you for spilling beans.
The girls simultaneously drooped and you almost smirked. It was much easier to be amused by pining girls when it wasn’t directed at you.
“Do you know when they’ll be back?” The second girl questioned hopefully. She was much shorter than her friend, looking like she barely stood at 5’0.
“I do not,” You feigned sympathy.
“Okay,” Purple hair sighed, discouraged.
After a few moments of silence, you piped up, “Was there something else? I can pass along a message,” please don’t make me pass along a message.
“No…” Shortie blushed, refusing to look you in the eye.
“Okie-dokie, have a good day,” you waved, quickly closing the door so as not to give them any more chances to talk.
Sighing, you swan dove onto your bed with a huff. Everything from the shopping trip had been unpacked, you just needed to wash the sheets before she could make the bed.
Standing back up, you gathered everything you needed and headed to the dorm laundromat.
***
Three hours later, you were laying down on your clean bedding, nose deep in a fat book. You tensed, though, when you heard muffled voices outside the door and from what you could make out, most of it was not in English.
You almost didn’t recognize Jimin’s voice as he came barging into the room, Taehyung commenting something back, following him into the room, but you couldn’t understand any of it. You were frozen, your book clenched tightly in front of your face.
Another response was thrown, followed by what was definitely Jimin’s laugh.
“I don’t know why I’m friends with you,” Taehyung grumbled in English and you could hear someone sit on the bed across from yours.
“Ellie!” You barely had time to brace herself before Jimin jumped on you.
“Oof!” You wheezed, not prepared for a grown man to pounce on you.
“Nice Chim, two times in a day,” Jungkook teased carefully, but you couldn’t see anything past the curly locks and blue eyes that stared down at you.
“Hello,” you breathed, still a bit in shock.
He grinned, teeth showing proudly, “Hey”
“You’re a bit heavy,” you whispered, trying to gently push him off you.
“And you’re a bit bone-y!” He laughed, rolling off you and onto the mattress beside you. Your breath hitched at his words, but just like that, his attention was back on the other two boys.
“He’s going to get annoyed at you again,” Jungkook gently advised, sitting next to Taehyung and for the first time that you’d encountered, Jimin hesitated and looked at you warily.
“I’m not annoyed,” you assured, offering an uncomfortable smile. Jimin relaxed immediately, crashing back into the mattress.
“What are you reading?” He asked and you had to resist flinching when he leaned so close that you could feel his breath on you. You immediately handed him the book, hoping he’d back up. Jungkook started a quiet conversation with Taehyung, threatening to divert your attention to them.
“Inheritance,” you finally answered, although you knew it was pointless because he was already flipping through the pages.
“Eragon is the first book, right?” He asked, unexpectedly interested.
“Yeah,” you smiled more genuinely, pushing yourself upright so that you were sitting and subtly scooting further from his warm body. You were especially uncomfortable at the desire coursing through you to move closer to his warmth.
“Do you recommend the series?” He wondered, his eyes alight with curiosity. You nodded numbly, not sure what to say.
“It’s good,” you finally got out.
He nodded, handing you the book back and resting his head on his arm. He started absentmindedly fiddling with your comforter, looking exhausted and you recalled him mentioning that Taehyung hadn’t gotten much sleep and you wondered if he, too, hadn’t slept. You’d initially written it off as goofing off and too much partying, but the melancholy look in his eye had you second guessing that assumption.
“Jimin, if you’re going to sleep, take out your contacts.” Taehyung suddenly commented, cutting off Jungkook in the middle of whatever he’d been talking about.
Sleep?! It was your bed! He couldn’t possibly be so bold…could he?
Before Jimin could respond, you shuffled down the bed, hopping off the end and making an escape to the small bathroom. You were in there for a good ten minutes, staring at yourself in the mirror, wracking your brain for what to say, what to do. You’d never been in this situation before, never been around people quite so shameless.
Finally flushing the toilet (even though you hadn’t used it), you washed your hands and crept back into the room. It seemed whilst you were in the bathroom, everyone had settled in. Taehyung was laying on his back, phone in his hand, Jungkook was sat beside Taehyung, on his laptop (that you had noticed on his bedside table earlier) and Jimin was out cold on your bed, leaving you at a loss as to what to do. He wasn’t taking up a lot of space, hardly any in fact, but you were still hesitant to return onto your bed.
You didn’t understand why your body and mind was reacting the way it was, you’d been around men your entire life! Men were usually a comfort zone for you, so why did these three cause your heart to race and your mind to get muddled? Sure, Taehyung had snapped at you one time, but that didn’t explain how you felt about the other two.
Taehyung must’ve noticed your hesitation because he spoke up.
“I can move him,” he offered, shocking you. Jungkook glanced up curiously before returning his attention to whatever he’d been doing.
Taking in Jimin’s peaceful expression, you just couldn’t bring yourself to ask Taehyung to disturb him.
Could this possibly be what it was like to have friends? Friends shared things, right? Friends slept over. For fucks sake you were rooming with someone now, you should get used to having people over.
“No, it’s alright,” you mumbled, very carefully climbing over Jimin, picking your book up and continuing where you left off.
The hours passed in a blur as you were sucked into the land of dragons and monsters. You didn’t even notice Jungkook leave or Taehyung fall asleep. It wasn’t until the light coming through the window became too dim to read with that you realized what time it was.
Biting your lip, you gave yourself a moment to gather the courage to wake Jimin up.
“Hey,” you whispered, gently shaking his shoulder.
No response. You tried again.
“Jimin, wake up,” you still kept your volume low, not particularly wanting to wake up Taehyung.
This time, Jimin gave a response, rolling over. Your heart jumped in panic when he rolled towards the edge of the bed and you thoughtlessly grabbed at his waist in an attempt to catch him before you fell.
Of course, because the man weighed twice as much as you, he took you both over the edge.
“Shit!” You hissed as you felt gravity take you both down and winced as you landed on top of him. The petty part of you absently called karma for jumping on you, but you were quick to brush the thought away.
You both let out a groan, but he actually started laughing quietly.
You looked down at him in confusion.
“You didn’t have to body slam me to the ground, or is this revenge for this morning? I didn’t take you for vindictive,” he chuckled with a wince as he brought his hand up to rub the back of his head.
You quickly scrambled off him, “N-no! Of course not!”
He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings and your eyes widened at his brown ones before you remembered Taehyung telling him to take out his contacts. Habitually, you copied Jimin and did a once over of your surroundings, doing a double take when you saw Taehyung’s head resting on the edge of his bed, one eye peeking up at you.
If you want to be tagged, please send an ask, it’s easier to make sure I’ve got everyone! Lemme know what you think! As always, it keeps me going :D
You were jerked awake by the ceiling light being suddenly flipped on. Squinting, you rolled onto your back, gazing around in confusion.
Glaring at you, a storm brewing in his eyes, was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. His hair was dark and wavy, falling into his anger-filled eyes and you wondered if he was a god. It took you entirely too long to stop staring and realize it was just your roommate.
“Move your shit” he growled, aggressively kicking your bags closer to your bed. It dawned on you that he must’ve tripped over them when he got up to use the bathroom. It had been so dark when you’d arrived that you hadn’t realized just how far away from your bed you’d placed them.
“I’m so sorry!” You gasped, sitting up and reaching over to pull them onto the bed. He just huffed and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
You squeezed your eyes closed in regret and fell back onto the bed, completely embarrassed, “I’m such an idiot.”
By the time he came back out, you were rolled back onto your side, facing the wall and pretending to be asleep. You wanted to avoid his confrontation for as long as possible.
You heard him roughly shut the light off and crawl back into his bed. You waited, counting the seconds that turned into minutes before rolling onto your back and staring up at the ceiling. The moon shining through the window cast haunting shadows across the room and although you hadn’t expected it, the presence of your roommate actually made you feel better. You weren’t facing the shadows alone. With that thought, your eyes drifted shut.
***
“Wake up sunshine!” You barely had time to open your eyes before a figure landed right on top of you, a feral grunt escaping your lips at their weight.
“Oh shit!” They exclaimed when they realized.
“Chim?” Someone else questioned, flipping on the light. You shied away as the person scrambled to get off you.
“Apparently Tae’s roommate got in a little early,” the so-called Chim replied, sounding a bit sheepish.
“What is going on?” A deep, raspy voice quieted the two males down.
“Tae!” Chim cried in excitement, jumping onto the other bed.
Your roommate grunted at the weight, much like you had, but he was strong enough to roll out from under him and face the wall, pulling his blanket over his head. Chim sat up and looked over at your undoubtedly disheveled appearance.
“Sorry I jumped on you, we were told you wouldn’t be here till this afternoon,” You got a better look at him now that he wasn’t moving around. His curly blonde locks were wild and untamed as he ran a hand through it apologetically, his eyes were a starling icy blue and his white v-neck shirt hung off one of his well-defined shoulders delicately. It was unreal how beautiful the man was and if you were any less awake you would have thought him a god, too. Aphrodite, maybe.
“You jumped on him?” the 3rd, unidentified male echoed, shifting uncomfortably. He had dark hair, brushed neatly across his forehead, big brown eyes, and multiple earrings dangling from both of his ears. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, and in fact, everything he wore was black; his hoodie, his jeans, the aircraft carriers he had disguised as shoes. All black and yet somehow he was pulling the look off as ‘cool’ instead of ‘emo and depressed’. He, too, was unrealistically beautiful.
“It’s not like I meant to!” Chim defended, panicked.
“It’s okay” You murmured, rubbing your sternum where his elbow had jabbed into it.
“I’m Jungkook,” the man in black introduced, a subtle accent peeking through.
You gave him a smile, albeit a little strained, and returned the introduction, “Elliot.”
Sitting up, you brought your knees to your chest, turning your attention to Chim on the bed opposite yours. He was mimicking your positioning, not mockingly so, and bringing his knees to his chest. You briefly wondered what material his skinny jeans were made of for them to so comfortably stretch over his impressive thighs like that.
“I’m Jimin! Again, sorry for the…” He trailed off, motioning to the bed with a sheepish grin. His accent was much stronger than Jungkook’s, but you still had no idea where it was from.
“You’re fine,” you really wished he would stop bringing it up.
“You’re Tae’s new roommate?” Jungkook changed the topic, likely having noticed your discomfort.
“Tae?” You trailed, turning your head to take in the slumped figure on the bed.
“Taehyung,” the said man corrected sharply, raising his head to glare at the three of you. Jimin smirked and leaned back into him, letting his legs fall down again whilst Jungkook just gave you a small, somewhat awkward smile.
Focusing back on you, Jimin tilted his head to the side. “You have no,” he paused, motioning to the naked mattress, “bedsheets.”
You looked down, “I was going to get them yesterday, but I got in later than I’d thought,” you explained sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck.
“We can take you?” That was the last thing you’d expected from the quiet one in black. From anyone really. You were more of a lone wolf, help wasn’t something you offered or accepted often.
“Who’s we?” You asked hesitantly, glancing over at your roommate’s slumped figure. He’d raised into a sitting position and was heavily leaning into Jimin, obviously the least awake out of all of us.
“Ah, ignore him. He hasn’t slept much the past week,” Jimin waved off and Jungkook nodded in affirmation
Taehyung rolled his eyes and got up, causing you to flinch back. The movement caught his attention, but he disregarded it as he stalked into the bathroom.
“Is bedding the only thing you need?” Jungkook wondered aloud, eyeing your small bags doubtfully.
“It’s okay, I can get everything myself,” you assured, rifling through the duffle for a clean shirt.
“This is your first year though, right?” Jimin asked as Jungkook took a seat on Taehyung’s bed.
“Yes…” Where was he going with this?
“This is our third year, so we know where everything is,” he continued.
“Oh, okay,” you caved, realizing they weren’t going to let it go. Glancing warily at the bathroom, you leaned back into the bed, perfectly happy to wait for Taehyung to finish if it meant avoiding him.
“Tae! Hurry up!” Jimin yelled when he realized your train of thought.
Taehyung stepped out of the bathroom with a glare and you shrunk back in fear of his wrath. Deciding that you could just go in your pajamas, you grabbed some socks and shoes and hurriedly put them on.
“You aren’t going to change?” Jimin asked in confusion, completely unphased by Taehyung’s irritation.
“No, this is fine,” you brushed off, grabbing your coat and wallet before darting across the room and out the door.
“Hey, wait up!”
You frowned as the two men followed you, but you hesitated for them all the same.
“Don’t mind Taehyung, he’s just annoyed that he has to share a dorm,” Jimin explained, much to your confusion.
“What do you mean?” The words slipped out before you could process them.
“Tae usually has his own wing, but because they’re expanding the school this year, he has to live in the dorms until they’re done building,” he explained.
You came to the conclusion that Taehyung was very well off if he had his own wing. Clearly spoiled too, if his bratty actions were anything to go by.
“I’m sorry if he’s been unpleasant. I’ve known Tae for a long time, I know he can be…difficult sometimes,” Jungkook spoke up quietly from behind.
“He hasn’t done anything,” you quickly diffused, knowing that it was your fault for leaving your bags in the middle of the room, anyways.
Both Jimin and Jungkook looked at you skeptically.
“Where to first?” You changed subjects, uncomfortable with the attention that was on you.
***********
You had never met a guy that liked to shop as much as Jimin did. If you’d had it your way, you’d have been in and out two hours ago, but the happy-go-lucky, and admittedly adorable, Jimin insisted on going down every aisle and showing you anything he found minutely interesting.
“Softer is better, there’s no way anyone finds firm pillows comfortable,” Jimin snipped, glaring at the wide variety of pillows.
“Chim, they’re for Elle, not you,” Jungkook reminded softly, his ears reddening slightly when you looked shocked at his nickname for you
“Yeah! But as the guide, it is my job to make sure that he gets the best one!”
Jungkook ignored him, turning to you, “Which one do you want?”
“Either is fine!” You rushed out, not wanting them to be focused on you any longer than necessary. You were enjoying being the third wheel, it was as close as you’d ever gotten to comfortably being around friends.
“See Kook? I told you,” Jimin grinned, turning back to the pillows in satisfaction. After grabbing the soft pillow, he twirled back around, “alright, what’s next?”
A bit startled, you glanced to the basket of everything you needed, “that was the last item.”
“That’s all you’re getting?” Jungkook questioned in surprise.
“I don’t need much,” you shrugged, gripping the cart a little tighter.
“Oh, so we’re done then? Great, I’m starving!” Jimin pushed past, marching in the direction of the cashiers. Jungkook seemed to agree with him because he was right on Jimin’s tail.
Trailing after them slowly, a large part of you wished they’d go get food without you and leave you be, but a small, tiny, itty-bitty part of you wanted to go eat with them, wanted to makefriends.
“Hurry up!” Jimin called back, jumping onto a startled Jungkook’s back.
As you approached the checkout counter, Jungkook’s phone began to ring. Looking at the screen, he immediately answered, shrugging Jimin off and making his way out of the store for more privacy.
“Is that really all you need?” Jimin questioned, looking over everything, unconvinced.
“Yes,” in fact it was more than you had originally planned on getting.
“Man, you’re so easy. We went shopping with Tae last month and he was so needy!” You scrunched your brows together, unable to imagine that anything about Taehyung was needy.
As you were piling the bags back into the cart, Jungkook returned.
“Tae is going to meet us at Le Fabricant de Pain for lunch,” he explained, mostly addressing Jimin.
Jimin made a delighted groaning sound, startling you so much you almost dropped a bag.
“We haven’t been there in ages!” He exclaimed, turning his attention to you and continuing, “they have the best sandwiches.”
You nodded, having no real intention of eating anything. You hadn’t eaten a sandwich since you were 8 and if you wanted to keep your secret, it needed to stay that way.
“Come on, we’ll drop your stuff off at the dorm and then head over there,” Jimin said, taking the cart full of bags and walking out the store.
Looking back to the pretty cashier, you accepted her receipt with a shy head bow and an awkward smile before nervously following the boys out.
Noticing Jungkook was doing all the work to pack your things into the trunk of his car, you jogged up and quickly began helping.
“It’s okay, I can do it,” you insisted, grabbing ahold of the bag in his hand and receiving a funny look. He didn’t argue though and instead took the opportunity to join Jimin, who was already in the car connecting his music to the Bluetooth.
“Tae already revoked your rights to the Bluetooth,” you heard Jungkook scold quietly and you noticed that the longer you spent with them, the less you noticed their accents, which was frustrating because you still didn’t know its origin.
“But Tae isn’t here, is he?” You could hear the grin in Jimin’s words.
“No, but the rest of us haven’t suddenly gone deaf,” was Jungkook’s quipped response and the music was abruptly shut off. Personally, you hadn’t minded the song, but you weren’t about to speak up.
After pushing the empty cart off to the side and shutting the trunk, you came around to the passenger door and tapped 3 times on the window.
Jungkook’s car was only a 2 door Challenger, which meant Jimin had to get out and the seat had to be pulled up before you could get in.
He didn’t pay you much mind as he hopped out, still bickering with Jungkook. Luckily, the seat was on spring rollers, otherwise, you didn’t think you’d have had the upper body strength to pull it up.
“Huh, you like her too, right Elle?” Jimin addressed loudly over your shoulder as you climbed into the back seat, making sure Jungkook could hear him.
Jungkook interrupted before you had a chance to say anything, not that you had much to say on the matter anyway.
“You can’t ask him, just because you know you’re wrong.”
“That makes no sense!” Jimin disagreed, pushing the seat back roughly, unknowingly hitting you in the process. You bit your lip, bringing your knee up to your chest. He hadn’t hurt you, but you still didn’t want to be in the way.
The two’s argument continued all the way back to the dorms. Honestly, it was the most you’d heard Jade speak and you wondered if this was his true personality or if Jimin just annoyed him that much.
Please let me know what you think! Compliments will get you everywhere with me :P
Warnings:Crossdressing, anorexia, and disguised child abuse. Please read with caution if you think this might be triggering.
——————–
“All packed?” Your mother asked gently, petting your head lovingly.
“Yeah,” you were always a shy kid, a recluse inside yourself. This was showcased in the meager items you had packed to bring with you.
“Are you sure that this is all you want to bring?” Your father worried.
You looked over what you were taking. Your favorite shirts, a new pack of underwear, a few pairs of jeans, 2 sweats, a hoodie, a pair of pajamas, shoes, a small first aid kit, and a couple of miscellaneous things. You’d also packed a suit, just in case.
“What about shampoo? A toothbrush?” It was your mother who was worried this time.
“I’ll buy them new when I get there,” you assured, placing your carry-on bag next to the open duffle.
“Oh, I’m going to miss you,” your mother gushed, yanking you into a bone-crushing hug. You patted the teary-eyed woman’s back, uncomfortable with the sudden affection.
“It’ll be fine,” you muttered, pulling away.
“And don’t cheat your diet again! You don’t want to gain weight and start menstruating again,” she reminded.
“I know.”
“And don’t change in any locker rooms!” Your father pitched in. As if you could forget.
You nodded, quietly letting them get out all their worries and reminders while zipping up your duffle. You were anxious to get to the airport.
“I know you hate it, love, but it’s for your own good. Girls don’t get treated in society the same way boys do, we just want what’s best for you,” Your mother sympathized as she took in your pained expression, but you’d heard this lecture more times than you could count.
You sighed, giving your mother a smile, “I know, mom. You worry too much, I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, we just love you so much!” She gushed, bringing your father and you in for a group hug.
“I love you too. The taxi will be here soon though, I need to get downstairs,” You reminded, stepping out of reach.
“Come on, honey, we don’t want to make him late,” Your father chided, guiding your mother out of your room.
Him. You hated the word.
Picking up your bags, you heaved them out of your room and to the front door. It was perfect timing too, the taxi had just pulled up.
“I love you! Be safe! Make smart choices!” Your mother called as you shuffled out the front door.
You too. You thought back, giving the taxi man a smile as he got out of the car to open the trunk.
“Thanks,” you breathed out as he lifted your bags into the trunk. He nodded in return.
Slipping into the back seat, you sent your parents one last wave as the taxi pulled away.
You were staring out the window, lost in thought when the driver said something, pulling you back to reality.
“I’m sorry?”
“Off to college?” he repeated.
“Oh, yes,” the conversation fizzled out there.
The rest of the drive was exactly how you liked it—quiet and uneventful. You were able to zone out with your headphones, daydreaming as you stared out the window. The time danced by with the notes of the music, making the ride seem much faster than it was.
“Here you are, young man,” the driver grinned, removing your bags and setting them before you on the sidewalk.
You nodded and gave a cursory smile in appreciation to the man, handing him the money you owed for the ride.
“Have a safe flight!” He called, getting back into the car and pulling out into the hectic traffic of the airport drop-off.
You nodded to yourself, an action meant to help build your confidence for the upcoming events.
With your ticket in hand, you entered the large building, getting in line to check your bags. There was a group of women on the other side of the rope guidelines, giving you flirtatious glances and your skin instantly crawled. You wanted to shrink into yourself and disappear.
Avoiding eye contact, you noticed a service dog walking by. Perking up slightly, you admired the dedication the animal had to its job of helping his disabled owner.
You had always defaulted to animals, feeling calmer around them. Maybe it was because they didn’t care, maybe it was because they didn’t talk, you didn’t really know. But you loved them.
Not wanting to be rude by staring, you turned away, startling yourself as you realized you’d turned back towards the women.
They were cooing at you.
Just leave me alone. You thought bitterly, wiping your clammy hands onto your loose jeans and taking a shaky breath.
You didn’t understand what about you was so attractive to other women. You weren’t tall, maybe 5’7, and your frame was thin and scrawny, not much muscle on you at all. Your shaggy hair was always a mess and you had no style or ‘swagger’ whatsoever. It just didn’t make sense to you why so many females tried to flirt.
You turned your attention to the ticket in your hand, your name in bold letters at the top; Elliot Wiley.
You frowned, you’d always hated your name.
Your body language only got stiffer and stiffer as the line moved on until you eventually checked your bags, got through security, and boarded the plane.
Your seat number was C-16, right between a mother and her infant and a tired businessman. You hoped the flight wouldn’t be like the movies where he fell asleep on your shoulder and the baby screamed nonstop.
The mother gave you a friendly, if not somewhat awkward smile as you squeezed past her and you tried not to cringe away when your legs brushed. Unfortunately, the plane you were in was one of those planes that stuffed as many passengers as possible in the cabin, leaving ridiculously small seats that made it nearly impossible to avoid touching your neighbor.
You sat down and put your belt on, picking nervously at the dirt under your nails, impatient for the plane to take off.
“Nervous flyer?” You flinched back when the woman next to you murmured in your ear.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Delilah, this is Elle” the woman smiled apologetically, motioning to the small creature asleep in her arms.
You nodded in forgiveness, your voice quiet and timid as usual as you returned the introduction, “Elliot.”
“Is this your first time flying?” The woman’s voice was still calm, patient.
You hesitated before nodding. She smiled reassuringly.
“I was terrified the first time I flew, but it’s really not as scary as you think. After a while, you forget you’re even in the air.”
Right. you’ll just conveniently forget you’re thousands of feet off the ground. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
“Thanks,” you muttered anyways, turning away.
Come to find, the woman was right. After the initial take-off and the occasional turbulence, the flight wasn’t bad. It didn’t feel like you were hurtling through the air at alarming speeds, instead, the world floated by almost peacefully outside the window. You couldn’t see much over the businessman’s shoulder, but whenever they passed a mountain, it was a unique experience to observe something you’d seen a thousand times, but at a completely different angle.
The landing of the plane was by far the most nerve-wracking part of the entire flight. Getting so close to the ground, seeing no runway, no runway, no runway, and suddenly—BAM! You hit the runway. The ‘wrrr’ of the engines working overtime, the terrifying hum of flaps fighting the air. It had your heart beating erratically in fear.
“Thank you for flying with us, we hope you had a good flight!” a flight attendant bid adieu as you and the rest of the passengers filed off the plane. The second you stepped out off the plane and into the tunnel, it suddenly felt like gravity was pulling at you differently. You’d never appreciated solid ground quite so much.
The trip to baggage claim was longer than you’d expected, giving the fear that your bag might get stolen plenty of time to arise in your chest.
Relief flooded you when you saw bags still getting spit out and glee filled you when your light brown leather duffle came toppling down onto the slowly circulating belt.
Snatching it up quickly, not wanting to lose sight of it, you headed out of the airport. You were supposed to take a bus to the city the college was located, but the papers were in your smaller carry on bag.
Setting your things down beside you, you shuffled through the bag, pulling out the envelope you’d stuffed all your necessary documents in.
Reading the name off the printed receipt, you looked around for the bus stop, pleased to find that it wasn’t a very far walk.
By the time you reached your dorm room, the sun had long since passed, leaving you worried that your roommate might’ve already checked in and you were in danger of waking them up.
Opening the plain wooden door as quietly as you could, you popped your head in, looking around. It looked like a basic room—two twin beds across from each other, a desk and chair between them, and a chest at the base of each bed. On the right wall, there was another door, leading to what you assumed was the shared bathroom.
Your heart beat faster when you took in the sleeping figure spread out on the left bed. Tip-toeing in as quietly as possible, you gently placed your bags beside the other bed and sat on the mattress. Thankfully, the bed wasn’t loud, so there was no risk of waking your roommate that way.
You tapped your fingers against your knees anxiously. You hadn’t planned on getting in so late and now it was too late to pick up a new pillow and bedding. Letting out a small sigh, you grabbed your navy blue pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt, then as quietly as possible, you slipped into the bathroom to change.
Looking at yourself in the mirror one last time before you slipped back into the room, you frowned at your shaggy locks. It fell just passed your jaw in a very messy fashion and it was even longer in the back, reaching the base of your neck.
I really do need a haircut. You thought bitterly.
Shuffling back into the room and climbing onto the bare mattress, you curled into yourself and let your eyes slide shut.
Please let me know your thoughts! I love to hear what you guys think xoxo
Warnings:Panic attack and floofy fluff. Yoongi is a babe in this one. Also so very very loosely edited, heh. I’m sorry.
——————–
“Would you run away with me?”
…..
“Tasia!” Jungkook exclaimed frantically.
“Jungkook? What’s wrong?” At my serious tone, the three men with me instantly turned their attention my way.
“Put it on speaker.” Hoseok demanded and I did as told.
“-what happened! I just-I left to use the bathroom for like 2 seconds! That’s it!” He trailed off, Korean tumbling out of his mouth in what I assumed were panicked curses.
“Hey, it’s okay, just tell me what happened. You’re okay,” I consoled, doing my best to bring his attention back to me.
“I won’t be after I tell you what happened” he mumbled.
“What the hell did you do, Kook?” I sighed, exasperated.
“I maybe, sorta, kinda…lit…your kitchen on fire?”
“You did what?!”
“It was an accident!” He exclaimed and I could hear Jimin and Hoseok snickering behind me.
“Shut the fuck up!” I snapped at them causing them to flinch back and stop laughing.
Turning back to my phone I asked, “are you fucking with me right now?”
He let out a whimper, “no.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to reign in my anger. “Okay, so, how did you manage…that?” My breathing was shallow from the effort I was putting in to keep my patience.
“I was making food and I didn’t see the kitchen towel by the stove and I just left for a second to use the bathroom and when I came back….there were a lot of flames”
I hung up the phone, rushing over to the curb and crouching into a ball, trying to battle back the panic attack that threatened to overtake me. I was going to be evicted, I was going to have to pay for repairs, I didn’t have a place to stay.
I flinched when someone gently placed a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t touch me.”
“Maybe it’s not that bad,” Jimin murmured, crouching beside me.
I could feel the tears welling but I nodded nonetheless. We stayed crouched there for a while, Jimin affectionately brushing my hair back behind my ear and rubbing my back.
“Come on, let’ go” he encouraged a minute or two later, ushering me to stand back up. “Hoseok, take-” Jimin hesitated, not remembering Beatrice’s name, “Tasia’s friend back, we’re gonna get a cab.”
I didn’t even argue, too far gone in self-pity.
***
When the cab pulled up outside the apartment building, I saw the hoard of police and firemen. The threat of a panic attack crept up again, but Jimin must have been paying attention because he was quick to wrap his arms around me. I couldn’t fathom why I felt so comforted when not even a half hour ago I wanted the ground to swallow me whole every time he so much as glanced my way.
“Tasia!” I was tackled the second I stepped out of the cab.
“Get off.” I wasn’t stable enough to put any emotion into my voice.
Jungkook flinched back, likely not expecting it.
“Tasia?” He murmured cupping my cheeks but I shrugged him off, I was afraid that if I looked at him I would say something I would later regret.
I stalked into my apartment, brushing past the firemen and police officers, my chest tightening uncomfortably the second I laid eyes on my roastedkitchen.
“Excuse me, Miss Lloyd?” I turned at the sound of my name, coming face to face with my landlord.
It felt like the world was closing in on me, my chest getting tighter as I fought to breathe. I stumbled round the side of the building, hoping no one had followed me, slumping against the brick wall and sliding down til my ass roughly landed on the cement.
***
I darted out of my apartment a few hours later and hurled myself down the steps. I couldn’t stop the flow of tears any longer. Everything was too much, it was all too much. Too many people, too many problems, too many emotions—I couldn’t handle it. The officials had all left but the seven men now in my life were more than I could handle in that moment.
Breach of contract. Evicted. The words repeated over and over til my head was swimming.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I finally calmed down, but when I did, I took notice of the figure standing beside my slumped form.
His dark hair was almost completely covering his eyes and he had a black mask covering the rest of his face, but his silhouette was unmistakable.
“Yoongi?” I asked. The only response I got was an almost imperceptible turn of his head as his one visible eye met mine. “Do you want to get out of here?” I held my hand up for him to take, hoping that he would.
His gaze flickered down to my hand. There was a beat of silence before he cautiously pulled his hand from his jean pocket and gripped mine. He pulled me, with more strength than I thought he had, up from the ground. Not prepared, I stumbled forward into his chest.
“Was that payback?” I snickered into his chest. I wasn’t sure what it was, but something about him in that moment made me feel safe. I knew I wasn’t being rational and the last thing I should be doing right now is running away, but I didn’t want to stay. I didn’t want to deal with my anger towards Jungkook or my inevitable homelessness. I wanted to run.
And so we did. Still hand in hand, we took off running. I don’t think either of us had a destination in mind, our only goal was to get away. We ran like our asses were on fire down the sidewalk, taking a chance and darting across the too-busy-to-be-jaywalking street. We kept running till we could no longer see the dreaded apartment building.
Jogging to a stop, we were both panting and clutching our sides, laughter bubbling up inside me. Looking at Yoongi I noticed that somewhere along the way he’d removed his mask and for a moment I was struck dumb by his beauty. He wasn’t quite laughing, but there was a grin on his lips that I’d never seen before. Slowly, we both sobered up as we stared, studying each other.
“Come on,” I nudged after a moment, a taxi pulling up to the curb behind him catching my attention. It still didn’t feel like we were far enough away if one of the boys decided to come looking for us.
Yoongi helped the elderly woman get out and I took the opportunity to slip in. I waited for Yoongi to join before I told the driver to do just that. Drive.
It was about thirty minutes of driving around and we eventually got to the more populated part of the city with lots of little boutiques and tourist attractions.
“Here’s fine!” I called, startling the driver a little I think. Yoongi had his mask up again, but I think I saw his cheeks lift into a smile and I grinned back at him.
Where had the fear I’d felt for him gone? Where was the anxiety I felt around any of them at any given time? Where was the stress from my home situation? I wasn’t sure but right then I wasn’t going to worry about it.
Yoongi slipped the driver some cash and we both tumbled out of the vehicle, small giggles leaving my lips.
People were hustling and bustling down the streets, the tourists easy to pick out. Not wanting to lose Yoongi in the crowd, I laced my fingers with his.
Spotting what had prompted me to tell the driver to stop, I tugged gently on Yoongi’s hand and began making my way to the entrance. It was a small bar that I’d never been to but had always wanted to try.
The little bell chimed above the door the moment we stepped in and Yoongi pulled his mask down to rest under his chin, looking around. The place wasn’t anything special or fancy, but it looked clean.
Leading him to the stools, I sat down. “Let’s drink.”
…..
The first thing that caught my attention as I woke up was the horrendous taste in my mouth, my tongue feeling like it’d been glued to the roof of it. I had a few blissful seconds of this before the headache registered, pulling a pained moan from my lips. I rolled over, deeper into the covers while clutching my skull.
I’m never drinking again. I thought.
The last thing I remembered was bar hopping with Yoongi and I prayed that was who I had just heard walk into the room.
My breath hitched when they clumsily plopped onto the bed, rolled closer and threw an arm around my waist — pulling me closer. I risked a glance down and closed my eyes in relief when I recognized the ring and bracelets on the hand.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I sighed, not willing to speak any louder. Yoongi just hummed halfheartedly in return, the sound muffled by the pillow his face was pressed into.
“Where are we?” I grimaced once again at the taste in my mouth, somewhat regretting opening it.
He let out an annoyed sigh, took his arm off me and shifted to lay on his back.
“A hotel room.” He deadpanned.
“Did…did we do something?” I sat up, biting my lip nervously not missing the opportunity to appreciate his beauty. His eyes were closed, his hair messy and brushed back.
He cracked one eye open, unexpectedly sitting up too, the proximity making our noses brush. “Why? Do you want something to have happened?” There was a mischievous glint in his eye, his minty fresh breath fanning across my lips.
I pulled back, not wanting him to smell my breath.
“I have to use the bathroom!” I blurted, stumbling out of the bed. I had moved too fast because now the pressure in my brain made me feel like it was going to pop. I took a second to wait for the pain to ebb away.
“You good, jagi?” He asked with humor clear in his tone of voice.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I paused, furrowing my brows and looking back at him, “what did you just call me?” I’d heard Jungkook call me that a few times before and he’d always made it seem like it was a slip of the tongue, but the way Yoongi was smirking at me, I knew he’d said it intentionally.
“Jagiya.” He said, slow and mocking.
I rolled my eyes, “yes, and what does that mean?”
“It means your breath stinks. Go brush your teeth, I’ll order room service.” He huffed, rolling off the bed and leaving the room.
My eyes narrowed in annoyance, glaring at the door he’d just exited out of before huffing and stalking off to the bathroom.
Sitting on the marble countertop was an unopened toothbrush, some toothpaste placed next to a second, used toothbrush. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered when he got toothbrushes and toothpaste, but I was more concerned with my missing memories of last night to give it much attention.
With my mouth full of sudsy paste, Yoongi walks in.
“What do you want?” He asked in such a way, I was confused. He was the one that walked in, why was he asking me what I wanted?
Then I realized he meant for breakfast. Or lunch. I wasn’t sure what time it was.
I spit out what was in my mouth, my heart skipping a beat when I felt him carefully tuck some stray hair back behind my ear before I accidentally spit on it.
“Thanks,” I smiled shyly after I’d rinsed out my mouth.
He nodded in dismissal, “so?”
“Oh, um, anything is fine.” I finally answered the question he’d come in for.
He frowned but didn’t argue, turning to leave. He wasn’t a really expressive person, but something told me that he hadn’t been asking me what I wanted to be polite—he actually wanted me to pick something.
“Eggs and bacon!” I called out to his departing figure. He looked back at me and nodded.
I nodded as well, mentally congratulating myself as I turned to face myself in the mirror. I cringed at my reflection. My hair was an actual rats nest and my complexion looked like I had just risen from the dead. I felt a little like it too.
Making my way barefoot out of the room, I took in my surroundings. It was clear we were in a hotel suite and my stomach dropped at the thought that Yoongi had paid for this just because I didn’t want to go back home.
How much did a room like this even cost? I wondered fleetingly.
I followed the sound of Yoongi’s low voice, finding him on a couch with a phone the hotel provided pressed to his ear. He hung up when he saw me come round to the front of the couch.
“They said it will be 15 minutes. How’s the head?” He was mocking again, probably more than amused by how much alcohol I must have consumed the night before.
“It’s fine.” I snapped, trying to hide my embarrassment, “What time is it? And where are my shoes?”
He vaguely motioned to the side of the couch, his eyes not leaving me as I stalked around to find them lined up beside his own with my socks neatly tucked inside.
“Are you usually this grumpy in the morning, or is it just the hangover?” I looked up in time to see him casually brushing his hair out of his eyes and the arrogance in that simple action had annoyance flaring up inside me.
“Are you flirting or trying to start a fight right now?” I called him out, hoping for some kind of reaction, be it irritation or, better yet, embarrassment but he just shrugged noncommittal.
Huffing, I plopped down onto the couch, as far from him as possible. I didn’t really have a right to be annoyed with him, he’d pretty much taken care of me all night but I just couldn’t help but feel annoyed. A lot of it probably stemmed from my own embarrassment and I begrudgingly had to be thankful that he seemed to realize this as well.
We sat there in silence until room service came, him scrolling through something on his phone and me staring absently out the window.
When the table of food was wheeled in and Yoongi took in upon himself to uncover everything, I saw that he’d ordered us the same thing. When I looked at him in question, he just shrugged. And then I understood, it wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to decide forme, he hadn’t wanted to decide at all.
Sitting down beside him on the couch in front of the trolley, I picked up the utensils neatly wrapped in cloth and pulled a plate closer to me. “Do you want my bacon?” I offered.
He shook his head, “you eat.”
I winced, “I-I don’t actually like bacon…” I trailed off, guilty.
He squinted at me for a moment, probably trying to decide if I was mentally challenged or something. I avoided his stare, nibbling on one of the apple slices that were available.
***
I let out a loud sigh as Yoongi’s phone made another *ding*. It was the sixth notification and he hadn’t shown any sign of getting up and checking who was trying to contact him.
“It’s Jungkook. He’s worried about you.” He announced, at least acknowledging my annoyance.
Guilt gripped my heart. I’d reacted too dramatically yesterday and now that I’d calmed down and even blown off some steam, I was ready to forgive him. I knew it had been a mistake.
I slouched down a little, my body rejecting my next words, “I guess we should head back and join reality again, huh?”
He studied me for a moment, “I’m not in a hurry.”
“I think he’s been stewing in guilt long enough,” I sighed. He hesitated, surprising me, before nodding. He didn’t seem to necessarily disagree with my statement, instead he seemed to be wondering if I truly believed my statement. I did.
***
“Tasia? Tasia!” Jungkook sprung up from his seat on my couch and rushed over. “I’m so sorry, okay? Please forgive me”
“Of course I forgive you, I’m a simp,” I sighed, knowing it was true.
Jungkook sagged in relief and wrapped his arms around me, pulling a wheezed huff out of me at the tightness of his hold. I had been holding Yoongi’s hand because I hadn’t admittedly been ready to face everyone alone and despite Yoongi being a little unapproachable, the events the evening before had made us much closer. Even if neither of us would admit it.
“You’re gonna break me,” I breathed out, doing my best to pull away. He let me go.
“Hobi-hyung is talking to the landlord right now, I promise we’ll do our best to make sure you still have a place to stay. I’m really sorry,” his big doe eyes stared into me and I held back the urge to pull him back into a hug.
Hobi-hyung? We? I’d heard him call Hoseok that before, so I knew that was who he was referring to, but what I couldn’t understand was what any of the others had to do with the situation.
“He’s talking to the landlord?” I echoed. Jungkook nodded but didn’t elaborate and frankly I was a little too scared to ask.
“Um, alright,” I wasn’t really sure what to say anymore so I just moved towards the couch, bringing Yoongi with me.
He hadn’t said anything the whole time but he hadn’t pulled away either so I decided to keep him as close as possible for as long as he’d let me. At this point, his warm hand in mine was the only thing grounding me and keeping me from getting lost in the panic. Something told me he knew it too.
Pausing, you realized there was only one open seat on the couch. Yoongi obviously had noticed long before me, though, because he didn’t even hesitate letting go of my hand and taking a seat on the arm rest next to the open seat. He didn’t motion for me to sit, or even really give me any indication that his actions had been for me…but it was pretty obvious he’d done it for me.
Glancing about the room, Jungkook was the only one paying attention to us. Taehyung looked exhausted, staring blankly at the wall, Jimin was resting heavily into him focusing on whatever Jin was telling him in Korean, and Namjoon had his nose in a book, looking completely oblivious of his surroundings. My face flushed and I ducked my head, taking a seat beside Yoongi. My shoulder pressed against his side as I did my best not to disturb Taeyung who was sat next to me on the cushion. I was a little surprised when, not looking up from his phone, Yoongi dropped his hand down onto my lap and laced our fingers.
I couldn’t help but look at Jungkook, wondering what the man I was in love with thought about Yoongi’s and I’s new relationship. I couldn’t help the feeling of pain that shot through my heart when he stared fondly at our hands.
Please let me know your thoughts! I love to hear what you guys think! :))
Since I hadn’t really planned to go anywhere, it didn’t take me very long to get ready at all. I had let my hair air dry, I had no intention of putting on makeup and my clothes consisted of black leggings and an oversized white t-shirt. These were all decisions I regretted deeply the moment I told Namjoon I was ready and he’d replied with, “let’s go to the library”
Public? He wanted to go out in public? Normally I wouldn’t have given it a second thought, because really, who dresses up to study? But the fact that I was going to be accompanied by an unrealistically attractive man had me second guessing my life choices that morning.
The memory of what those girls thought of me when I was seen with them flashed through my mind and I grimaced. I didn’t need a rerun of yesterday.
“You sure you don’t want to just stay here?” I asked, hoping he would see the desperation in my eyes and have pity.
“No, we should go somewhere the others won’t feel tempted to follow and interrupt” I slouched at his words.
“Kay…” I sniffled, staring longingly at my kitchen table. He rolled his eyes at my antics, grabbed my bag and led the way out of my home.
In the time it’d taken for me to eat breakfast, he had showered, styled his hair and transformed into some kind of wandering, homeless, monk. Even stranger was how well he was pulling it off.
I’d successfully dodged Jimin thus far, although I had a feeling he wasn’t trying all that hard to interact with me either. He, Seokjin, and Hoseok had all gone back to Jungkook’s before Jungkook and I had even finished our conversation. And although I hadn’t checked, I suspected that along with Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi were asleep.
Under any other circumstances, I would never have left strange men alone in my home, but with Jungkook being there and them being the people he trusted most…I felt that it was somewhat safe to leave them unattended for a while. That saying, I was also piss poor so it wasn’t like I owned anything these aristocrats would want.
“Your school has a library, yes?” Namjoon broke through my thoughts as we trotted down the stairs to the ground floor.
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes, huffing, “of course”
If I had been looking I would’ve seen the smirk on his face.
We were about halfway to my school when I began to have that itching feeling that I had forgotten something.
Patting my legging pockets as subtly as possible, I mentally did a checklist.
Phone? Check. Wallet…my wallet! My bag!
“Oh no!” I gasped.
Namjoon jumped a little at my outburst, shooting me an annoyed but confused glare.
“My bag! It’s—oh.” I drooped as he held up my bag that he’d been carrying. A fierce blush shaded my cheeks.
I stayed quiet the rest of the way there, more or less shrugging off all his attempts to start a conversation. The building embarrassment from the growing list of stupid mistakes I kept making around them had my mind otherwise preoccupied.
When we got to the library, the calm, focused atmosphere rapidly relieved me of my anxiety. We settled at a table by the windows and it was when he sat next to me and leaned in to read what I was setting out before us, I realized just how good he smelled.
I inwardly groaned. How was I supposed to not think of this man as more than Jungkook’s best friend when he 1. Looked like a greek god 2. Smelled devine, and 3. Had the biggest brain of anyone I’d ever met.
Still, I sent him a shy smile in hopes of hiding my internal battle.
The day carried on quickly and I was astonished by how much more things made sense when he explained them. He was also unexpectedly patient, so at the times my brain just wouldn’t comprehend what he was trying to explain, he would calmly figure out new ways to explain instead of getting annoyed. I would’ve gotten annoyed with me ten times over if I had been in his place.
“Want to take a break?” He asked after my third brain fart in a row.
I bit my lip, unsure. “Can we?”
He was already sacrificing so much of his time to help me study, but I really needed to be away from the books for a while.
“Yeah, of course. You pack up, I’ll get a ride and then we’ll go eat” he stated, grabbing his phone off the table and stepping away.
I wasn’t exactly sure what he had in mind. My thoughts were that we were just going to go to the food court, but it was clear he had different expectations. Whatever, he’d been kind enough to help me this much, I wasn’t going to complain over where he wanted to eat. So I did as told and packed up my bag.
It wasn’t long before he returned.
“He said he’d pick us up,” he announced, again coming to sit next to me.
“Who?”
“Hoseok,” he elaborated, not looking up from his phone. He was sitting close enough and in such a way that I could easily see what was on the screen, but out of respect and slight disinterest, I turned my attention elsewhere.
“Ah”
A few minutes of silence passed and my attention had returned to his phone. I hadn’t even noticed that I was leaning into him or that he had angled his phone so I had a batter view until we were approached.
“Tasia!” I jerked back at the sound of my name, looking around to find who had called it. I instantly recognized the woman, a friendly acquaintance I knew from highschool.
“Bea! Hey!” I greeted, returning the somewhat awkward hug she pulled me into with a couple pats on the back.
Pulling back, she helped herself to the seat across from me and her gaze understandably wandered over to the man sitting beside me, who was much more interested in his phone than her. He’d actually slouched back into his chair, looking the most unapproachable I’d seen him.
That didn’t deter her. “Who’s this?” she wiggled her eyebrows at me and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. The woman was acting like we were in grade school and I was sitting next to my crush.
She wasn’t too far off on the “crush” part though.
“This is my friend Namjoon,” at the sound of his name, his eyes trailed up to meet mine, “Namjoon, this is Beatrice”
For the first time, Namjoon looked at her. He didn’t say anything, just stared. It was like he was waiting for her to do something worthwhile to pay him back for the attention he was giving her. I squirmed in my seat. Why was he being so rude?
“I didn’t know you went here!” I did, I’d seen her in the hall once before, but for the sake of breaking the ice, I pretended I didn’t. “What are you studying?”
She seemed grateful for the escape, “I’m an art major! What’s your major?”
“I’m a psychology major”
“Oh, so you’re learning to read minds?” I stared at her for a second, deciding whether or not she was being serious.
Taking the safe bet, I just laughed and shook my head.
“Nothing that cool. Though if they ever give telepathy classes, I’ll be the first in line” I laughed, the strained interaction already taking its toll on my energy reserves.
“So what exactly is-” she was cut off by Namjoon’s voice.
“Yeah?” I turned to see his phone pressed to his ear.
“In the library…Okay…Yeah” with that he hung up, shoving his phone into his pocket.
Returning my attention to Beatrice, I smiled apologetically.
“Hoseok is outside,” Namjoon announced, flicking at my ponytail to get my attention.
“Oh, okay”
“I’ll walk you guys out! I need to get some food anyways, I’m starving” Beatrice groaned, rubbing her belly.
A part of me admired her confidence. Even after being stared down, she was still making the effort to interact with us.
On a whim, I offered, “We’re headed out to eat right now too, wanna come?”
She lit up at my offer, “Yeah! Where are we going?”
“Um…” I looked at Namjoon for guidance, but he ignored me, grabbed my bag and walked away.
“Oh! Guess we’re going then!” She laughed and we both walked quickly to catch up with him.
I wanted to call him out, tell him that his legs were almost twice as long as ours, but I knew he wouldn’t appreciate being told off in public. I didn’t even know him well enough to tell him off in private.
At the pace he was walking, we got to the front parking lot in record time.
Leaning against the hood of a grey Charger was Hoseok and the very last person I wanted to see—Jimin.
Out of reflex, I grabbed the back of Namjoon’s navy kimono. He looked back at me curiously, “what?”
“Uh, n-nothing” I shook my head, letting him go.
Jimin spotted us first, coming to meet us halfway. In a very lazy fashion, he bumped into Namjoon in what vaguely resembled a hug.
“Anastasia” Hoseok singsonged in a way that felt somewhat mocking, “you brought a friend”
“I-uh-yeah. This is my friend Beatrice” I introduced, stiffening when Hoseok threw his arm around my shoulders the same way he had the night before. Goosebumps travelled across my skin as I recalled his hot breath fanning across my neck.
“Hello, Beatrice” I couldn’t see his face, but from the saccharine tone he used, I knew he was smirking at her.
She wasn’t immune to his charms and her ears instantly became red hot. “Hello!” she squeaked.
“Will you be joining us?” Now it was Jimin, who’d rested his hand on Hoseok’s shoulder and his chin on top of it. Again, I couldn’t see his face, but by the way Beatrice was fidgeting and blushing, I knew she was getting his bedroom eyes full force.
“I mean, Tasia?” She looked at me desperately, as if I was any less flustered than she was.
“Anastasia invited her” Namjoon didn’t even try to hide his displeasure.
“How exciting” Hoseok didn’t exactly sound as thrilled by the news as his words might lead you to believe, but he didn’t lose his friendly tone.
“Let’s go eat!” I blurted, lurching away from Hoseok and grabbing Beatrice by the wrist, marching off towards the car.
I knew there were only five seats in the car, but it wasn’t until I actually climbed in and scooched to the middle seat that I understood just how tight a fit it was going to be. Beatrice was on the curvier side, which just meant that she took up as much space as the boys did, leaving a little more than a foot of room in the middle for me to sit.
And of course, of course Jimin was the one that climbed in next to me. He didn’t look angry, but being pressed flush against me probably wasn’t what he wanted either.
Beatrice struggling to buckle in her seatbelt caught my attention, notifying me that I was half on it.
“Oh, sorry” I murmured and shuffled over, consequently bumping into Jimin. I tried not to react and just wait patiently for her to finish before scooting back because I was too scared to see his reaction.
Awkwardly, I twisted back to reach for my own seatbelt, freezing when a hand came to rest over mine.
“Lemme help” he murmured and I probably wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t leaning in so close.
“Okay!” I squeaked, wrenching my hand back. He didn’t exactly laugh at me, but the huff of air he let out and the smug grin on his lips told me that he was in fact finding amusement in my embarrassment.
The back of his hand glided across my abdomen as he pulled the seatbelt out and around. I bit my lip and averted my eyes to the roof of the car. Was this man bipolar? Suddenly Taehyung’s face popped up in my brain and I grimaced. Those two were eerily similar.
I glanced over to Beatrice, wondering what she thought of the whole situation, looking for something that told me I wasn’t going crazy, but she wasn’t paying attention. Whoever was outside the window (I couldn’t see from where I sat) had all of her focus.
Namjoon opening the front passenger door and sliding in successfully brought my attention away from Jimin strapping me in, though it was hard to ignore our shoulders bumping as he shifted to get better access to the buckle.
I could hear Hoseok standing outside Namjoon’s open door, the two discussing something in Korean and if I had to guess, I’d say it was lunch plans. I almost laughed when in the middle of Hoseok’s sentence, Namjoon pulled out his phone and started typing. I hoped Beatrice saw it, though unlikely as he was directly in front of her, so maybe she wouldn’t feel bad that he was ignoring her earlier.
“Where are we going?” I spoke up, relaxing slightly when Jimin leaned into the window and away from me, closing his eyes.
Hoseok ducked down so I could see his face and gave me a smile, “Namjoon is getting the directions”
I nodded and smiled back. It was hard not to get caught up in him, his smile was so contagious and…happy.
When he moved away and I saw his figure walk around the hood of the car, Beatrice whispered in my ear.
“I can’t decide if he’s hot or cute” I couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up because she had spoken my thoughts.
Still laughing, I nodded my agreement.
The drive was pretty funny, with Namjoon not paying as close attention to the directions as he should have been, leading to us making more than one U-turn. Throughout, I tried my very hardest not to tip into anyone’s personal space every time we turned, knowing neither person well enough to be that close. After about half an hour of driving, Hoseok pulled into an open space on the street, a little ways down from where I knew there was an upscale restaurant.
I was nervous because I was a broke college student but I had a feeling that Beatrice was probably feeling the same way so at least I wasn’t alone. Although I was curious, didn’t you need a reservation to eat there? There was no way they got one on such short notice on a busy Saturday.
I let out a hiss of pain when I leaned in to unbuckle myself, not realizing Jimin had done the same leading to us bumping heads.
“Sorry,” I winced, rubbing my head.
“It’s okay,” he mumbled, putting a ring clad hand to his own head.
Biting my lip anxiously, I ungracefully shuffled out of the car after Beatrice, almost tripping on the curb.
The five of us gathered, making our way towards the restaurant’s front doors. There was a lot of hustle and bustle on the streets, people enjoying their Saturday to the fullest and although I probably shouldn’t have even been surprised at this point, my eyes still went wide when Hoseok put a protective arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as we entered the restaurant, not sure how it would go. I’d never been inside before, let alone had a meal here, but still I expected the luxury and comfort that was presented before us. The moment you stepped into the well lit entrance there was beautiful gold latticing on the walls and a warm brown podium about ten feet deep into the room. I immediately felt sorely underdressed in my leggings and t-shirt.
Namjoon took the lead, strolling up to the podium where an employee stood, ready to check customers in.
The man behind the podium had short, quaffed bleach-blonde hair that clashed with the elegant black uniform he wore, his nametag reading Zach. He looked Namjoon up and down, no doubt judging his hobo-chic, but the suspicion and judgment in his eyes left quickly when he took in Jimin and Hoseok who were clearly wearing designer clothing and expensive jewelry—Hoseok’s big gold watch was hard to miss. He barely spared Beatrice and I a glance before he refocused on Namjoon.
“Hello! Do you have a reservation?” Zach’s tone was considerably brighter than I thought it would be.
I winced at the question, I was right. You needed a reservation to get in.
“Hoseok Jung” Namjoon’s voice commanded. My eyebrows shot up and I pulled away to look at Hoseok.
“I know people,” He murmured with a smirk, answering my questioning gaze.
My curiosity wasn’t exactly sated, but I would wait til we were at least seated before I started asking more questions.
Zach looked more shocked than I did at the sound of Hoseok’s name and I could see the panic in his eyes as he sputtered a little bit with his response, “You’re-of course! Your table is right over here” He bowed, ushering us around the beautiful island wall leading to the rest of the restaurant.
I don’t know why I was expecting a low lit, sultry vibe but that was not what greeted us. Instead, it was a bright, spacious room filled with soft chatter and laughter. There were modern chandeliers hanging over the bigger tables and the decor about the room was impeccable. It felt strangely welcoming.
Zach led our small group to one of the tables in the center. It was a bigger table that could sit twice as many people than we had but I wasn’t about to argue.
Hoseok absentmindedly pulled out my chair before taking the seat next to me and engaging Namjoon in conversation, both of them ignoring Zach completely. Beside me, on my other side, I noticed Jimin pull Beatrice’s seat out for her too and watched as she flushed pink. Jimin gave her a knowing smirk and went to go sit beside Namjoon who was across from us.
We were all sat fairly centered at the table, empty seats on both sides of us and for some reason that made the table seem not as big as it had before.
“Your waiter will be right with you,” Zach notified, looking a little miffed but bowed in departure nonetheless.
I made sure to give him a kind smile and said “Thanks, Zach.” He smiled back and left.
At my words, both Namjoon and Hoseok cut off whatever they were saying and looked at me.
My eyes widened. What?
“You look good today” Hoseok commented after a moment and I scoffed. He and I both knew I looked terrible. Although when he shot me a confused stare, I began to question his sanity.
Before I could say anything about his questionable sanity, a beautiful woman interrupted us and it took me a second to realize she was our waitress.
“Good afternoon,” she smiled enchantingly, making me feel small and even more out of place in this lavish restaurant. “I’m Terrance, I’ll be your waitress today” the gentle smile never left her face as she carefully passed out the menus.
“Thanks” I murmured, noticing the way Terrance eyed Beatrice. My mouth made a small “o”.
“Of course! May we start you off with something to drink?” she grinned, her eyes continuously flickering back to an oblivious Beatrice as she waited for our responses. I couldn’t help the smirk on my lips as I looked down and fiddled with the utensils that were beautifully wrapped in a cloth napkin.
“Just water” Namjoon answered dismissively, probably more oblivious than even Beatrice.
“Water for me too, what about you Bee?” I prompted. I knew from highschool that Beatrice played both sides.
She looked so flustered when agreeing that just water was fine that I had to reconsider, maybe she wasn’t as clueless as I’d pegged.
Suddenly I got a rush of excitement at the thought of the two but I squashed it down, catching Jimin’s gaze. He was relaxed back into his chair, legs crossed with an arm slung lazily over the back of Namjoon’s chair. He raised an eyebrow at me, a smirk playing on his lips.
My breath hitched at the sight, trying desperately not to get caught up in him. Luckily Hoseok saved me when he lightly nudged my arm with his elbow.
“Hey, I don’t have your number” he announced, as if for some reason that was myfault.
“My number?” I repeated like an idiot.
“Yeah,” he nodded holding up his expensive phone that was displaying his contact list.
“Twenty eight hundred contacts?! Would you be able to find it even if you did?” I guffawed, tearing my eyes away from his screen to look at him.
He just grinned, pressed on the screen a few times and held it back out for me. The recognizable “Create new contact” page was now open.
I bit my lip, contemplating. Did I really want to give my number to him? My nerves were shot enough as it were, more contact with them didn’t really seem like the best idea for my health.
My decision was steadfast in my brain, it really was, but the moment he smiled at me my brain just stopped functioning and I autopiloted my number into his phone.
His smile grew at my actions and I couldn’t even find it in me to regret them.
“So how did you guys all meet?” Beatrice asked suddenly, probably feeling like the odd man out and I suddenly realized I hadn’t introduced anyone after Namjoon.
“Oh! Um, do you remember Jungkook? From highschool?” I asked.
“Of course!” Her eyes lit up, “are you guys still friends? I remember that by graduation you two were basically connected at the hip.”
I laughed, memories sparking in my mind. It was true, we’d both been pretty lost teenagers, resulting in us becoming emotionally dependent on each other. Three, almost four years later, we’d grown up a lot and made our own friends. We didn’t need each other to survive anymore.
“They moved in together” Jimin spoke up with a smugness before I could confirm Jungkook’s and mine’s ongoing friendship status. Beatrice’s eyes grew comically and she whipped her head to look at me for confirmation.
“No! No. We did not” I corrected, holding my hands up as if to stop her thoughts. “And that’s not even the point. Point is, Hoseok, Jimin, and Namjoon all grew up with him” I said, pointing at each man respectively.
“Oh really? What was he like growing up?” she asked what I’d been wanting for a while.
They stopped to think about it for a moment.
“Irreplaceable.” Jimin eventually surmised.
I was about to coo at the statement, but Namjoon interrupted me.
“Woah, hey, careful! What are you trying to do, eyeball it from the empire state building?” We all turned to see what he was talking about and I had to roll my lips together to stop from laughing. A young boy had been pouring water into glasses and Namjoon was right, he was pouring from way too high.
The boy apologized and all was forgiven and forgotten and the afternoon carried on seamlessly after that, conversation coming easy.
Exiting the fancy establishment two hours later, I got a call. Pulling out my phone, I glanced noncommittal at the caller ID but a smile unknowingly stretched across my face at Jungkook’s name.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Tasia!” I sobered up at his frantic tone of voice.
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