PRETTY SAD FOR A GIRL SO IN LOVE — bangtan series.
·.·★ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love…
— a BTS theme series inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s newest album. Each fic is loosely based on one of the songs and borrows the heart of it— not necessarily its plot— to create a new story centered around one (or more) members. While every fic can be read on its own, together they explore the many faces of love and heartbreak.
author’s note: this took me way longer than it should. it’s my first time editing and doing a ‘theme’ masterlist so i’m really excited about this!! i really hope you like it<3 Links will be added into the tittles once they’re posted!!
｡･:*˚:✧｡ GIRL SO IN LOVE. . .
1. DROP DEAD — kim seokjin.
summary: It all started as a silly joke between friends. One harmless unimportant conversation, one name thrown into the mix, and one boring late-night search that should’ve ended after a single Instagram post and not in thousand of hours stalking a famous idol. Looking back, maybe your feminine intuition already knew that the story wouldn’t stop there… because once Kim Seokjin crossed your mind, it seemed impossible for the universe to keep him out of your life.
warning! ─ none.
2. STUPID SONG — min yoongi.
summary: As a songwriter you’ve always trusted your words more than your feelings. Unfortunately, falling for Min Yoongi makes both impossible to ignore. Wanting someone so much that you’re lost for words was slowly driving you mad. And somewhere between studio sessions, late-night conversations, and one too many stupid songs that sound suspiciously alike, you begin to wonder if love is supposed to feel this wonderfully unbearable.
warming! ─ none.
3. HONEYBEE — kim taehyung.
summary: Moving into a new apartment wasn’t supposed to change much of your life. Except, you moved next to Kim Taehyung— a man who’s always had a habit of making himself at home wherever he goes. Funny enough, neither of you noticed you’d been building one together all along.
warning! ─ none.
4. MAGGOTS FOR BRAINS — kim namjoon.
summary: You always thought people who couldn’t function without their partners were being stupid and pathetic. That was until Namjoon leaves for tour, suddenly every song, every meal, and every quiet moment seems determined to remind you that you’ve officially lost your mind. Nobody warned you that missing someone could feel like a full-time job— or that love had a way of making even the smartest people act a little stupid.
warning! ─ none.
5. U + ME = <3 — jung hoseok.
summary: Dating Jung Hoseok feels a little like breaking every rule you’ve ever had about taking things slow. Between meeting his family, compatibility quizzes that insist you’re all wrong for each other, and a future that somehow keeps slipping into everyday conversations, you and Hobi are determined to prove everyone wrong— even if it means falling a little too hard and a little too fast.
warning! ─ +18 (to be added).
6. MY WAY — park jimin.
summary: You’ve never considered yourself the jealous type. Petty? Maybe. But there’s a difference between insecurity and watching someone repeatedly ignore the word ‘no.’ As Jimin’s ex grows increasingly creative in her attempts to stay in his life, you find yourself running dangerously low on patience. You were determined to handle things like a mature adult… at least right up until the night you realize there are far more satisfying ways to remind someone exactly who he goes home with.
warning! ─ +18 (to be added).
7. PURPLE — jeon jungkook.
summary: Loving Jungkook feels like watching two pretty colors blend into something even more beautiful. The trouble is, once they become one, it’s hard to remember what they looked like apart.
warning! ─ +18 (to be added).
. . . PRETTY SAD ｡･:*˚:✧｡
8. THE CURE — jeon jungkook.
summary: You had dated enough men to know exactly when the doubt would start. The comparisons, the jealousy, the quiet certainty that eventually you would never be enough. Dating Jungkook had cured every fear you ever had about love. For the first time, loving someone didn’t feel like drowning…. Which only made it more terrifying when you realized the thing ruining your relationship wasn’t him— It was you.
warning! ─ +18 (to be added).
9. BEGGED — kim namjoon.
summary: Namjoon has always loved you the best way he knows how. Between late-night promises, postponed plans, and a man who always means well, you’re willing to be patient. After all, it’s a virtue to not let good love slip away. But it’s funny how easily patience can disguise itself as hope… You just never imagined that one day you’d find yourself wondering whether love should have to be asked for in the first place.
warning! ─ +18 (to be added).
10. WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME — kim taehyung.
summary: Taehyung loves you exactly the way you’ve always dreamed of being loved. So why does every morning feel a little heavier than the last? When doctors insist there’s nothing wrong and even happiness starts to feel like an unbearable weight, you’re left wondering if the greatest love of your life might somehow be the very thing making you sick.
warning! ─ +18 (to be added).
11. LESS — min yoongi.
summary: You never imagined the person who loved you most would also be the one forced to let you go. But when every attempt to save your relationship only leaves you both hurting a little more, you’re left wondering if the cruelest kind of love is the one that knows when it’s time to end.
warning! ─ none.
12. EXPECTATIONS — park jimin/jung hoseok.
summary: After one heartbreak too many, you’ve decided to raise your standards. Lucky for you, Park Jimin and Jung Hoseok seem determined to exceed them. Whether they’re trying to impress you or simply outdo each other is still up for debate— and while neither of them looks particularly promising as husband material… you’re beginning to suspect they’d make an excellent team.
warning! ─ +18 (to be added).
13. CIGARETTE SMOKE — kim seokjin.
summary: It’s strange how every memory of Jin seems to come in pairs: one that reminds you why you stayed, and another that quietly explains why you couldn’t forever. The hardest part is deciding which one deserves to be remembered and which one will help you decide your future with him.
warning! ─ +18 (to be added).
UPDATE SCHEDULE:
── AUGUST
── SEPTEMBER
── OCTOBER
── first of all, i knowww yoongi is a piscis and taehyung gives paris but but you have to walk with me on this one okay? trust me that i know bts better than all of you cause we’re really close friends and i’ve been really stressing the fuck out which song to chose for everyone so you better stfu. i only accept good criticism. anyway im actually shaking for this fics!! i really hope you guys like it. and let me know what you think about the theme and the short summary so far<33
could I ask for a BTS reacting to reader doing topless at the beach? thank you 💕
(not a minor btw!!!!!!!!!)
a/n: Omg I appreciate you telling me you're not a minor!
warnings: mdni, 18+, boyfriend! BTS, dirty talk, these are hc, suggestive touching, pet names (baby, my love, etc.), public beach, nude beach, private beach, a boat, allude to bj, allude to m-st-rb-t-ng (f. rec), allude to smut, mentions of dumbification, all boys down bad, skinny dipping, teasing, etc.
wc: 1.7k+
[BE VERY AWARE, SMUT BELOW THE 'KEEP READING' TAG]
Namjoon - When you go topless, showing Namjoon your pretty tits, his mind blanks.
He knows deep down he should probably be worried about someone seeing you partially naked, or be smug to show you off to anyone who might see you, but Namjoon doesn't think.
He sees your breasts, and his mind shuts off, or better yet, goes into autopilot. He doesn't even give you a chance to reach for the sunscreen before his body is rolling on top of yours. The beach umbrella covers you both from the left, but Namjoon's body covers yours entirely as he finds his hips between your open plush thighs.
"Joon-" You can't even finish saying his name when you feel his cock harden, barely separated by his swimtrunks and your bikini bottoms. And then it's your turn to have your mind blank because Namjoon's lips are sucking one of your nipples into his wet mouth while his cock is throbbing against your covered, puffy folds.
He uses his tongue to flick, lick, and lap the nub until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and your fingers are threading into his hair to pull him closer.
He makes you forget where you are. The only reason you two came to this beach was to relax, and Namjoon now planned to do that while sucking on your pretty titties. Once he was satisfied that you were wet and wanting, he planned to drag you back to the car to fuck you stupid and take you home to do it again. He wasn't going to last long for this beach day, but he was going to make it up to you.
Jin - You're at the beach, but on Jin's boat, far out in the ocean. You can see the many colorful dots of people lounging around on the sand, waddling into the ocean, or walking to find a place to tan, and you're happy that you get the privacy of relaxing with your boyfriend alone.
You knew that he most likely brought you onto this trip so he could go fishing while still spending time with you, and you were more than happy to come along. You didn't always fish with your boyfriend; sometimes, you would take advantage of the small yacht to tan or read inside, enjoying the soft waves lapping at the boat as you got lost in your latest book.
Today, you decided to tan first.
Jin was barely two feet away from where you lay, his posture relaxed as the sun beamed down on both of you. It was a perfect day. And you hadn't even realized he was watching you and not the ocean when you slipped your top off, closing your eyes and sighing happily. Your hand was resting just under your breast, and you were about to move it to your side when Jin spoke up.
He's soft but firm as his eyes rake over you slowly, his tongue licking his lips as he hums. "Move your hand up."
You furrow your eyebrows, blinking over at your boyfriend in confusion until you see the way his eyes hood and his cock twitch under your gaze.
"I want you to touch yourself for me, Baby. Move your hands up."
Jin's eyes stay on your pretty tits, ready to show you another way to relax, waiting for you to follow his orders. And you're always so good at taking his orders.
Yoongi - The strings to your swimsuit are already undone as you lie on top of your beach towel. You're lying on your stomach, resting your head on your arms as the sun rays beam down on you, and you're pretty positive you could nap just like this.
Yoongi is lying right next to you, but in the shade of the beach umbrella you two brought. His hair was wet from the ocean after you two had been swimming around for an hour before, trying to spot little schools of fish, and now, after another layer of sun lotion was rubbed on you, you were tanning as your boyfriend took in the beautiful day.
Waves lapped at the shoreline, the clouds were fluffy in the sky, and for the amazing day it was today, hardly anyone was on the beach but the two of you. It was perfect, and Yoongi didn't think it could get any better until it was time for you to flip over.
Your pretty tits grab all of Yoongi's attention the moment you turn over, making his lazy grin turn into an amused smirk. "If you wanted my attention, Baby, all you had to do was ask."
His teasing made you grin, your eyes rolling playfully as you shook your head. But then Yoongi was leaning closer, his thumb brushing over one of your nipples, and making you suck in a breath as he chuckled.
"I think you should take a break from the sun, c'mere, let me help you cool off."
Hobi - The day was warm, the ocean was cool, and Hobi was spending his free day with you on the beach. He wanted to have you all to himself; the long days of his job keeping him busy and away had taken a toll on him, so any chance he could have with you, he was going to take it.
It's why he lugged the beach towels, the umbrella, the sunscreen, etc., while you took care of the picnic basket full of snacks and drinks for both of you to share.
Hours of sun, sand, and swimming had left Hoseok tanner, his smile brighter, and your eyes gleaming as he swam closer to you. You two weren't far from the shoreline, but you were far from people, and it's why you forwent your top.
Your giggles rang in his ears as Hobi's eyes took you in. You were wet, hair drenched with ocean water, droplets sliding down your neck and into the valley of your breasts before joining back into the ocean. Your smile was mischievous, a knowing sparkle swirling in your eyes as you took in the way Hobi's breath caught.
He had pulled you in closer, his hands brushing along the curve of your breasts as your own hand teased the top of his swim trunks. He wanted to know if you had taken your swim bottoms off, too, suddenly wishing he was home alone with you instead of on this beach as your hand slipped under his swimtrunks in the ocean to grab his aching cock.
If you wanted to play, then Baby, he'll play. His cock was already growing hard under your touch, his pupils dilating as you gave him another playful giggle.
Jimin - Jimin is just finishing setting up your spot on the beach when you take your top off.
You two had taken a drive to a little trail that led to a private beach. It was the perfect getaway after both of you had the busiest workweek and had finally made it to the weekend.
Good weather, and belting to your favorite songs with your loved one had cured multiple long days at your day job, and feeling the sand underneath your feet had revived the energy you hadn't realized was depleted until now.
And it's how you end up taking a leap, untying the strings around your back and neck, and allowing the thin fabric to slip off your body as you look back at Jimin with a grin.
He watched as your grin grew bigger, his shocked face amusing you to bend over and slip your swim bottoms off next. "Catch me if you can!" You taunted, and then you were off, racing into the ocean with him short-circuiting under the umbrella he had carried all the way here.
It takes him three blinks to realize what you've said, and then his grin matches yours, and his swim trunks are pooling at his ankles as he chases after you. Your laughter rings in his ears, pushing him forward, eager to hear it again.
Taehyung - The moment you are topless on the beach is the exact moment Taehyung contemplates how he can convince you to follow him back to the car.
He doesn't care if anyone sees you; if anything, it makes a confident and smug grin dance on his lips because you're his, and he's proud to show you off.
Honestly, he isn't above fucking you in front of everyone if that's what you want. And he does ask you as he kneels between your legs, dipping his head down to lick a stripe up the valley of your breasts with a sparkle in his eyes. "You want to play, Baby?"
His tongue swirls the question mark over one of your nipples, his teeth grazing the little nub just to see you whimper in response.
"Are you going to take everything off? Want me to help you?" His fingers play with the strings of your bikini bottoms, brushing along your inner thighs until his knuckles are dragging over your puffy folds. "I can use my mouth, if you'd like?"
Taehyung forfeits the idea of sneaking you into the car. You're the one who caused his cock to harden, twitching pathetically in his swimtrunks as he presses it into your thigh. Now, he expects you to solve it.
Jungkook - Any thoughts in his head disappear the minute you take your top off at the beach.
You two were here to enjoy the sunny day, a little beach weekend if you will, where you two had planned to laze about on the beach and do nothing else.
But Jungkook's plan to swim around is immediately put onto the back burner in his mind as you lie back on your beach towel, topless, and looking like his wettest dream. "Fuck you're gorgeous." Jungkook is brought to his knees, his hands reaching for your waist and sliding up your sides until he can cup your pretty tits in his hand.
"Babe, I'm just trying not to create any tan lines." You giggle and then gasp as his fingers pinch your nipples, pulling them softly until your cute cunt clenches needily in response.
"Yeah? Are you gonna strip completely naked then, and show everyone your pretty body?" His hands move down from your tits and over your stomach to your bikini bottoms, teasing the little strings keeping the fabric covering the one thing he wanted most right now. "Are you gonna show me your pretty pussy, too? I've always wanted to fuck you on the beach, Baby. Want me to fuck you right here, right now?"
대박 - you made it to the end!
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Summary: The absence of their eighth soulmate weighing heavily, Bangtan decides to give up on their search until a familiar face pops up online.
Warnings: Ot7 x Reader, Soulmate AU, Autism, Eventual Smut and Angst
-
We never met, but she's all I see at night
Never met, but shes always on mind
Who is my heart waiting for?
If every day I think about her
Yeah, every day of my life
Then tell me why I haven't found her
Jimin's own voice rings back to him through the practice room, reverberating through him as he moves. Hoseok sits on the floor, leaning against the mirrored backing as he watches the fluidity of Jimin's efforts. Even on his worst days, he flows from one movement to the next. A transition so effortless you wouldn't think it's real. Years of watching, however, attune you to the readable quirks of a dancer. A jerk, a slump, a twitch. Jimin is out of it, and Hoseok knows why.
"Three days until tour." He says, eyes narrowing on Jimin's feet. They hit the next mark.
"I know that," Jimin replies coolly. He makes his next spot, holds the count, and continues.
"Not with that dancing you don't."
Jimin huffs back, but doesn't speak. His pace quickens.
"Slow down!" Hoseok calls, starting to clap the beat for Jimin. "I know you want it perfect, but you have to focus for it to be."
Jimin stops, arms in the air. "Stop." He runs to his phone to pause the music.
Never met, but she's always on my mind
"What?" Hoseok rolls his eyes. "Don't take it personal!"
Wanna give her the world and so much more
"Shut up!" JImin slams his phone down, turning back to Hoseok. "she's singing."
Who is my heart waiting for?
-
The Twitch stream Jungkook had on in the background caught his attention, making him look up to his monitor.
I'll take her places they ain't found yet
I'll put it all on the line
"I really like this song," the streamer muttered, focused on her own monitor. She kept singing along before hitting a boss. "Fuck."
He watched, logging out of TikTok and slumping into his chair more. He had nothing to do, preferring to give himself a few days of rest before starting a tour. Plus, a good way to brush up on his English was watching an American streamer. He'd watched this one a few times. Her more monotone voice made it easier to follow along.
The streamer looked over at her chat quickly.
"The song is Who by Jimin," She read aloud. "It's about looking for his soulmate." She and Jungkook nodded at the same time. He hummed in agreement at the comment. He remembered holding Jimin just a few weeks ago, both distraught over the emptiness they'd all started feeling. The weight of one missing part to themselves was starting to weigh heavy.
"Have you met your soulmate?" She read again, squinting down at the chat. Jungkook refocused on the stream. She leaned back in her chair, pausing the game as she shook her head.
"No, unfortunately." She looked around, avoiding the screen. "But!" she pointed at the chat, as if it were someone she knew. "I know a few things about them. I have that recessive trait where I get flashes randomly, and I can see what they're doing from their perspective." She nodded along with the chat, "Yeah, pretty lucky. Hopefully, I'll find him soon. At least, I think my soulmate is a him; the voice is deeper, and his hands seem pretty big." She talked quickly, looking away from the camera.
"Jimin has the same thing," Jungkook muttered to himself. He suddenly found himself in a bad mood, not wanting to think about their search anymore. Jimin had been more reserved lately, not having had a vision in the past few months. He thought back to the notebooks Namjoon had splayed across their coffee table, sitting on the floor as everyone crowded the couch, grilling Jimin about the visions as he sat in the middle. Hair color, voice, height, street names, the list could go on.
"What do you know about him? From the visions, I mean?" She repeated another comment. Jungkook watched her lean back again, thinking hard. He knew that look; the decision to tell anyone about the contents of a vision was hard. He watched Jimin make it over and over again. It was hard to hear that your soulmate lived in America, or that she only seemed to speak English. Jimin always knew it wasn't something that any of them wanted to hear, yet he always told them.
"I need to watch something else," he groaned, rubbing his hands over his welling eyes. He reached for the mouse.
Knock knock knock. In rapid succession on his studio door.
"Jungkook!" Jimin and Hoseok yelled. "Let us in!"
"What is it?" He called out, moving the click out of the stream. He really did not want to be reminded of his failures right now.
"He had a vision!" Hoseok banged on the door again. "Let us in now!"
Jungkook jumped up, knocking his chair down to the floor and rushing to open the door. "What did you see, baby?" He asked as soon as he saw Jimin standing there, cupping his face gently.
Jimin gasped, stumbling back from Jungkook's hold, "Her," and pointed to the monitor across the room.
-
You inhaled deeply. "Ok. I'll tell you what I know so far 'cause maybe you can help me." You stared at the comments as they rolled in, not wanting to look at the monitor. It was too much like looking into a person's eyes at times. Some days were better, but today wasn't one of them.
"I know that he lives in Korea. I've heard him speak Korean a few times before, and seen signs as he drives around sometimes. I also know that he likes to make beats or sing." Your voice rose up the slightest amount at the end. It was a question for you. You saw too many different things and different studios to narrow it down.
"Something along those lines, He's got some sort of studio thing he rents out or something." You lifted your hands up. "But that's all I've got. Everything else is just quick glimpses. I've never even seen him looking in a mirror or taking a selfie." You read a few comments, exhaling at the funny ones. "Yeah," you agreed with one, "that would be helpful."
You shifted in your seat, pulling a foot up to your chest as you leaned forward. "Ok." You unpasued the game again, eager to stop thinking about the images flashing through your head. "Don't comment your soulmate success stories or you're banned."
-
"Are you sure?" Jin asked, leaning over Namjoon's shoulder. Namjoon, with all the other members crowded around him, seated in Jungkook's chair, watching you play a game. Jin held the notebooks up to the monitor. The drawings Taehyung did were close, but he still had his doubts. The eyes were wider, hair shorter, just not exact.
Hoseok looked through his fingers from the back of the crowd. "How is she not scared?" You moved through the horror game with ease, jumpscares rolling off you quick. You blinked rapidly at the flashing lights of the game's death screen, shook your head a few times, and restarted the challenge.
jImin nodded, "I'm absolutely sure." You turned your head to the side as you took a sip of water. "Look!" He pointed at the monitor, stretching past Namjoon. "I have seen that freckle, in that spot, in my visions."
Taehyung took the sketches he had done out of Jin's hands, holding them up so everyone could see. "I've drawn it," he ran his finger along the curve of your sketched neck, stopping at the freckle Jimin had made sure was in the right spot. "I've drawn her."
Jin tried to pause the stream immediately, pounding on the space bar. "Ahh!"
"Hyung!" Jungkook tried to stop him. "Don't break it!"
"Make it pause, Kook!"
"It's a stream, it doesn't pause!"
-
You sighed, leaning back in your chair as Twitch returned to the Home Screen. "That was a good one, beefcake," you said, hoping your fat cat was somewhere in the room.
"Mrrow." Beefcakes' small head emerged from the top of her cat tower.
"Yeah, yeah," you grumbled, standing up and stretching. "It's how I afford all that kibble, fatty."
"Brro."
"Sorry." You shuffled to the bathroom. No matter how tired you were, the routine needed to stay the same. You started with brushing your teeth, looking down at the to-do list on your phone.
PR pickup
Film PR
Gym
Tutoring session at 4 PM
You nodded to yourself before finishing up. You slipped into pajamas, gave beefcake a kiss, and went to bed.
-
"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Taehyung asked, slumped over on the table.
"Yes, keep bedazzling," Jungkook muttered quietly next to him.
"What if being autistic means you don't like rhinstones?"
Jungkook stared at him. "Then I peel them off one by one and give you bragging rights. Bedazzle."
"Ughhhh." He groaned as he picked up his glue.
They worked quickly in the background noise of Jin, Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon huddled over Namjoon's phone. Their manager, Sejin, and a social media consultant rattled off the facts quick.
"She's been posting on YouTube for about 5 years, hitting more rapid growth after the first year when she shared her Autism diagnosis in a video titled: Autism: Enemies of Women and Puzzle Pieces." The group nodded along.
Their new consultant chimed in, "Mentions of soulmates include only two quick sentences in one YouTube video, in that one she talked about her soulmark, and then there is the stream you just watched. Her fanbase is actually posting a lot about this stream currently because it's the most she's ever mentioned a soulmate or even confirmed that she has not met them yet."
Yoongi leaned over table, resting his elbows on it and running his hands through his black hair. "Has she ever posted anything showing the mark?"
The consultant sucked in a breath. "No. Sorry."
He cursed under his breath and walked away, heading to Jimins' still form on their couch. He sat next to him silently before placing a gentle hand on his knee and rubbing in soft circles.
"Are you sure this is the correct P.O. box?" Jin asked, looking down at a text on his phone.
Sejin hummed. "Yes, and looking through past TikTok posts, if she posts the day after picking up PR, then she should pick it up tomorrow."
"So she could come to our first show?"
Everyone perked up, eyes on the group huddled around the phone.
"Yes," Sejin said, "We'll have someone waiting at the office when it opens to drop the package off, and if it turns out it's not her, we can make another donation to a foundation of her choosing and show our support for the community - works in your favor either way."
Sejin knew they weren't listening to the last part, hearing the whoops and chatter in the room.
"Thank you," Namjoon whispered, watching his soulmates hug and talk. They flitted around the room, talking to each other, crying to each other, kissing softly.
Sejin smiled. He knew how Namjoon sounded when he cried.
"Anything for my boys."
The call ended, and a three day countdown began.
-
"Let me try!" Jimin begged, reaching across the table. He had sat with Jungkook all night, long after everyone went to bed. He knew how Jungkook was, though; he wouldn't go to sleep until it was perfect. One of your videos played in the background, which made their heart rate jump as you ran across a highway, stopping at the median to pick up a small tabby. They talked for a bit as they watched, wondering if you kept it. Would they meet it if you did?
"Oh, now you want to bedazzle! You just want to be able to say you worked on it too." Jungkook retracted the bedazzling stick. This was your first impression of them, of their work, of who they are. It had to be perfect.
"Yes. Give it!"
"Too bad." Jungkook teased, putting the final stone in place. "It's done!"
summary: one second, you're larping being army, and the next you're being transported to a second location where seven men claim that you're their soulmate. what is a girl to do...
note: guys pls this is my first fic ever ok like idk what im doing this is genuinely a self indulgent crack fic so dont take it too seriously ok..? promise me. ok love ubye.
warnings: USE OF Y/N. kind of trauma later in the story, mentions of abuse, mentions of eating disorders and my humor.
word count: 5k+
index | next
CHAPTER ONE : you need a hitman.
It all starts when Amelia Wren slams her phone down in front of you, claiming she has a life-changing offer.
“You literally cannot say no.” She says, shoving what seems to be the Ticketmaster app in your face. You try to put some distance between yourself and the phone to see its contents more clearly, but before you can, she’s moving already.
“What is this thing that I am being denied the right to deny…?” You ask.
“I got us tickets for…” She turns to you expectantly. Several years of friendship have apparently prepared you for this exact moment. You begin to drum roll.
“BTS!” She exclaims, her excitement palpable. You are grateful that your best friend thinks of you at such a time in her life; you really are, but it seems that she’s forgotten a very important detail.
“I don’t—” You begin.
“Listen to BTS. I know! But I literally have no one else to go with, Y/N. You’re my best friend in the whole entire world, pleaseee!” She pleads.
You bite your lip. “I don’t know, Lia. I feel like you should take someone that knows more than two songs off their entire discography.”
She rounds her eyes comically in mock surprise. “You know two whole songs!?”
You roll your eyes. “I don’t think there’s anyone on this God-given Earth that hasn’t heard Dynamite or Butter at least once.”
“See! You know so much already!” She throws her arms around you. “You have to come, Y/N. For me! Pleasee.” She pulls away and bats her eyelashes at you.
In turn, you stare back at her blankly. She huffs. “Okay. I invoke the Pact.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“No. If you say no to me now, you are turning your back on the sacredness of our friendship.” She informs you, taking a seat beside you and staring back at you, equally blank.
You groan, putting your head in your hands. You and Amelia had created “The Pact” in high school as a way to hold the other accountable. It included a long list of things, but one of them included showing up for the other, especially in desperate times.
“This is an abuse of power.” You inform her through your hands. She simply shrugs. You are honestly mostly worried about going to the concert and just standing there while some girl snipes you and posts you on TikTok talking about how you didn’t even go there.
That would be a fate worse than death. You hate coming off as a larp. But Amelia has invoked the sacredness of your friendship, and you honestly value that more than your life, which essentially decides for you.
“Fine.” You finally say. “I’ll come.”
That was over two weeks ago. Now the two of you stand in the parking lot of the stadium trying to get through a sea of people. The heat has gotten to both of you with the 4 o’clock heat that is a Californian summer. Amelia groans as she places an iced water bottle to her head. “I think I’m going to die of heat stroke before I see Jimin’s abs.”
“I hope we do.” You murmur, moving your mini fan between the two of you. After extensive research, you and Amelia had decided to match for your concert outfits. Amelia is wearing a red latex tube top with black shorts and knee-high black boots. You, on the other hand, are wearing a black V-neck top with denim shorts and a fat ass belt. You move your hair aside as you let the fan trail down your neck.
“I told you we should’ve arrived at least at 3.” You tell Amelia.
She rolls her eyes at you. “That’s crazy work, and you would have to put a gun to my head before I even consider that.”
You whine when she grabs the fan from you and gives you the water bottle. “We are going to die.” You inform her. “And the last thing I will see will be that big fat Arirang logo.”
“Seeing them live in turn for your life is a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Amelia informs you, her mouth tugging up at the side. You place a hand to your heart. “Now who’s turning their back on our friendship?”
Amelia tilts her head. “This is for the sake of our friendship, honey. Don’t worry, you'll thank me later.”
You highly doubt it. The only thing you vaguely remember about BTS is when they’d colored their hair akin to an assortment of cotton candy and their terrifyingly loyal fanbase.
As preparation for the concert, Amelia has had you study each member of the band and remember at least one trait about them lest you get kidnapped and interrogated.
You find the idea fairly probable.
“Did you go through the list again?” Amelia asks, digging in her backpack to fetch her phone. Through your bickering, the line has moved around surprisingly smoothly. There are only five people ahead of you. You nod, “My favourite is…Seok..Jin..?” You ask rather than say.
“Correct! He’s the..” She trails, waiting for you to complete.
“He’s the oldest of the seven,” you say. “And he’s got beautiful shoulders,” you sigh.
“Correct!”
After scanning your tickets and thanking the staff, you and Amelia start to navigate your way to your seats through yet another crowd. You can feel your legs hurt already from how much you’ve been standing, especially with the four-inch chunk beneath your boots.
“Did you get us floor seating?” Your shock is a living thing. You have a clear view of the stage and are close enough to the front that you could touch the stage. “Amelia, are we rich?” you ask her.
“And it cost me an arm, leg and your kidney,” Amelia informs you. You pat your torso where your kidneys would be. “Stop gambling away my body parts.” You murmur, moving down the aisle with her towards your seats.
Amelia giggles. “I found a really good reseller on Depop.”
“At least you weren’t scammed within an inch of your life,” you shrug.
“I won’t lie to you, I was shaking till they scanned our tickets.”
You lean over to ruffle her hair, to which she whines in protest. “Stop that! If tonight is the night Jimin decides he wants me, I need to look beautiful.”
You roll your eyes. “Statistically, I have more of a chance of that happening than you do.”
“Says who.”
“Wattpad!” You grin.
“You’re sick in the head, Y/N L/N.”
“Touché, Amelia Wren.”
The cheering of the crowd around you drowns out the rest of your conversation. The concert has begun.
Amelia clings to you with a vice. “Oh my GOD!” she squeals. You only pat her shoulder. “There, there,” you murmur.
Amelia has been an ARMY since 2015. This is clearly a huge deal for her, and you will be as supportive as possible for her.
“Is this from ARIRANG?” You ask her. She nods feverishly. “First song off the album,” she tells you.
The crowd loses it the second the boys are spotted.
You watch with rapt fascination as a simple move causes nearly the entire stadium to lose its shit. It is like witnessing the occult. You also can’t really blame them; BTS is beautiful. Even you can admit that. You may not remember their names, but you are plenty good with faces.
They have enough of those to go around.
The boys start to sing, and the crowd starts to go crazy. There is a voice in the back of your head that urges you to pay closer attention. You are officially convinced that you might be showing early signs of schizophrenia. Regardless, you listen lest the voice turn out to be a malicious spirit.
Near the end of the concert, when your anxiety really starts to settle into you. BTS runs around the stage waving flags as they go, saying hello to fans and singing as they do. Amelia practically pushes the two of you forward before they reach your section. She waves her hand out like much of the section and pushes yours out as well. You do your best to keep your hands as far away as possible. As the band makes its way through the crowd, you start to see the golden string that is your soulmate bond materialise in front of you. It is something only privy to the soulmates and tends to be especially bright before First Contact.
You curse the universe for its handbook to Find Your Soulmate 101.
The Tattooed One gets to your section first. He seems to be following the trail, and you know there is no hiding it. So naturally, you hide behind Amelia.
And of course, the universe decides to take a fat piss on the mess that is your life. The Tattooed One high-fives Amelia. You are sure she is going to faint right then and there, and you will have to hatch a plan to carry her cold body out of this stadium by yourself.
Then you feel the shot of electricity shoot up your arm. Your head snaps towards the source, being once again the Tattooed One. You frown, cradling your hand to your chest, and he stares back at you, his eyes slightly widening. Your eyes snake down to the golden string that confirms the worst of your fears.
Ding! Ding! Ding! You are Soulmates!
You could practically feel your stomach drop to your ass.
What. The. Fuck.
It seems that your stats aren’t too far off.
You really hadn’t meant to speak your crack fic into reality. You really need to start watching what you say.
If there is a God, they seem to be giggling at your expense. No. There clearly is, and it is one that reads fanfiction apparently.
You need to be sniped. You are going to order a hitman.
He is holding back the crowd, but it doesn’t seem like he cares.
You tilt your head at the man, and he only stares at you, his shock a living, breathing thing between the two of you. Then, like the universe has finally decided to take pity on you, he is pulled along with the crowd. You make a point to keep your hands to yourself.
“What was that?” Amelia asks. “Why did Kookie just stare into your soul?”
You shrug, “I told you. Wattpad statistics never lie.” It isn’t like you are far from the truth. That thought unsettles you. You still feel like you are having an out-of-body experience. Your words feel like an echo inside of your own head.
“You lucky bitch,” Amelia grins at you. “So what do you think?”
The band has gone off stage, likely for another dress change. You force yourself to snap out of it. The chances of BTS being your soulmate are slim but never zero, and apparently you have become a manifestation master through mysterious means.
You turn to her, forcing a smile. “I understand your dreams for a polycule orgy, okay?”
The rest of the concert feels like a blur to you. Tattooed One, or as Amelia has so politely named you, “Kookie”, and the palpable shock between the two of you is constant even without him near you.
You try to shake yourself out of it, even participating when ‘Dynamite’ starts playing. It is of no use; you are too lost within yourself.
I throw up your hands and plop down onto your seat. You are a woman of science. You are in no way a fool enough to believe in misguided notions of soulmates. You decide what has just happened is a sign from God for you to get a mental wellness check. You are, in fact, not tethered to a member of the world’s biggest K-pop boy group.
With your heart slightly at ease, you stand once again as the boys sit on the rotating stage.
In that moment, you realise three things:
Seokjin’s shoulders are truly as broad as the legends claim, and you are about to lose your mind.
Your Korean lessons have paid off well, and you can actually comprehend what they are saying to a certain extent.
Tattooed One is searching for something in the crowd.
You sit the hell back down.
You really need to stop leaving the house.
Amelia seems obvious to all your turmoil. She squeals every time one of them speaks and shakes you hard enough that you are sure you are one shake away from your brain dislodging itself.
Then with all the fanfare of a long lost welcome, they bid the crowd farewell and disappear into the tunnel for the last time.
There is confetti everywhere as people cry. Despite everything that has just gone down, the doped smile on Amelia seems worth it.
You sigh deeply and turn to Amelia to ask if she’s ready to leave when someone clears their throat behind you.
You turn to apologise, but it dies in your throat. A tall, lanky man stands behind you with a clear microphone to an earpiece. You tilt your head.
“Can I help you?” you ask, watching as Amelia packs her things. You think you know what this is. At the sound of your voice, she looks up, her face twisting in confusion.
“Ma’am, could you follow me backstage?” The stranger asks. You raise an eyebrow. “Can I see some ID?” you joke.
The man only stares. Thought you swore you saw his lips twitch.
Amelia stands beside you, all intimidation. She is going to scare this man away, and you two will stop at Taco Bell on your way home. Everything will be alright.
“What for?” Amelia inquires. Amelia was a lawyer, much to everyone’s (including yours) surprise.
“I am not in a position where I can disclose information. Please follow me.“
You turn to Amelia. She’s shaking her head. “You could very well be lured into a murder den right now.” She informs you.
“Okay, and you’ve prepared me for this moment with your insistence on me memorising everything about BTS,” you tell her.
“I’m serious, Y/N. Are you sure about this?”
You shrug. “Come with me?”
Amelia sighs deeply. “Always.”
The man clears his throat again. “I apologise, but only she is authorised,” he says, pointing toward you. You exchange a glance with Amelia.
“Y/N…” she starts. You smile at her and pat her shoulder. “I promise you that I will be okay.”
“Okay, if you don’t text me within ten minutes, I’m going to assume you are bleeding in a sewer.” She tells you. You pinky promise her that you will even send her your location before following the man.
You assure yourself that you will be fine if this turns out to be a kidnapping attempt.
You could scream really loudly.
Instead of being taken backstage, the you are lured into a secret parking garage where three big fat SUVs are parked.
“Right through here,” the man says. You can sense his disapproval of you following a strange man around, but it isn’t like he hasn’t instigated it. “For safety reasons, the group needs to return to their hotel,” the man says. “You will be riding in this one.” He motions to the SUV in the middle.
You push the thought aside and follow the man towards the SUV.
He knocks twice on the door before opening it for you.
You try not to look inside too soon. You decide you will stay oblivious to the facts for as long as you possibly can. You thank the man for his effort and clamber into the car.
There are rows, and you’ve been assigned a seat at the very back next to Kim Seokjin.
Seokjin’s eyes are closed, and his head is leaning against the window.
You keep to yourself and try to make as little noise as possible as you sit down.
No sooner has the door closed before two heads peek at you.
“Hi! I’m Jimin!” The blonde one says, waving brightly at you. Beside him, there is a man with what seems to be an attempt at a blonde peek-a-boo.
Was that… “Taehyung?” you whisper. The man grins.
“Hello,” he says.
“What’s your name?” Jimin asks. You are being punked. The universe is going to clap three times, and you are going to go back in time to the concert.
“Y/N,” you tell them.
“Aish,” says a voice beside you. You startle when you realise Seokjin is, in fact, awake. “Leave her alone. Wait till the hotel room.”
You were blushing. You had never blushed a day in your life before. You didn’t even know you were capable of it. And the culprit for this newfound development was none other than Kim Seokjin. You tried to blink it away, but it seemed that was not how blushing worked. Were you also supposed to feel this warm when you blushed?
Seokjin smiles politely at you before returning to his initial position. The other two disappear into their seats, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You need to text Amelia.
You pull out your phone and lean back in your seat.
You: I am alive.
Lia Bear: [sent photo]
You frown. Why is she not overjoyed for your safety?
You open the photo. It is a picture of Amelia stuffing her face with sushi.
Now you are irritated.
You: Your greed sickens me. I’m going to block you now.
Lia Bear: Don’t hate the player, hate the game.
You: You have blocked this contact
On hindsight, that is probably not the best move to make when you are being taken to a second location in a car full of men. You undo the action.
You groan and put your head in your hands. Today might have just been the worst day ever.
First, you find out that you have not one but seven soulmates. You aren’t entirely sure how you feel about that just yet.
Then, instead of overwhelming concern and distress, your best friend is stuffing her face with food without worrying whether you will live or die. Would you do the same? Yes. But are you still pissed? Yes.
You pull your legs up to your chest and rest your head on the window, mimicking Seokjin.
You decide once this whole ordeal is over, you will order yourself enough sushi to give you a fat tapeworm.
After what you’ve just been subjected to, it feels like a reasonable request.
The reality of the situation is that you are alone in a car with seven men. No one you know has your location, and you don’t know where they are taking you. This is the stuff of nightmares.
You feel a headache coming on. You really need to stop leaving your house. Or maybe you just needed to stop listening to Amelia.
You’re not sure when you’ve fallen asleep, but you wake up convulsing in pain.
Your body is on fire, and it feels like someone has injected hellfire into your veins. Seokjin’s concerned face looks over you, and you can see a head of blonde and black hair behind him. The door is open, and there is cold air streaming through the car, but you feel as though you are being roasted alive.
“Hurts,” you manage to choke out. You are such a pathetic loser. You hope someone has hired a hitman and the second you step out of the car you will be put out of your misery.
Seokjin looks over at Jimin with a glare. “I told you to wait for Jeongguk.” He speaks rapidly in Korean. You aren’t about to let it slip that you can speak Korean. Not just yet.
“What’s wrong with her?” Taehyung asks, glancing between you and Jimin.
“Only Jeongguk has made First Contact. If the rest of us touch her, she has to go through the process all over again. For now, only he can touch her.” He says, running a hand through his hair.
You feel a sharp pain shoot through your abdomen and flare up into the rest of your body. You promise whatever is up there that you will dedicate your life to being a nun if it means that this agonising pain will stop. It genuinely feels like your body is trying to rewire you at a molecular level.
Within minutes, you see Jeongguk. His tattooed hand reaches out to gently cup your cheek before he pulls out of the car. One hand slides under your knees and the other on your back. His touch feels like being splashed with cold water, and you nearly cry with relief.
“Are you…okay?” he whispers as he walks past the rest. The others trail behind him, and they enter a building. You nod, subconsciously letting your head fall against his chest. You pull away almost instantly. “Sorry,” you mutter.
He ignores you.
You are now inside an elevator with multiple other people. Their voices overlap, and you feel your head pound. It feels like someone's heartbeat was syncing with the pulsating headache you were feeling.
You groan and turn your face towards Jeongguk. The entire elevator silences itself.
Maybe you do have Black Magic. You will test this theory out later.
Jeongguk sets you down on what seems to feel like a couch. You shoot up despite yourself and cringe when your body makes contact with itself. Again, seven strange men and now you are in a room with them. Far be it from you to simply lay down in front of them.
Jimin’s anxious face hovers near you. “I’m so sorry,” he keeps repeating, keeping his distance from you. You aren’t sure what that would do considering First Contact has already been made. You only shake your head. “It’s alright, Jimin,” you tell him, trying to smile.
He looks at you weirdly. Then he turns to Jeongguk. Jeongguk seems equally at a loss. Did you have spinach on your teeth or something..?
“Hyung—“ he begins. Seokjin is all up in your face again. You blush. Then you smack yourself in the forehead for doing so.
“You’re flushed. Do you feel hot?” he asks, gently moving your hand from your forehead.
This time the pain nearly takes you out. You lean forward and clutch his shoulders in a vice, and pain racks through you.
You groan loudly.
Jimin’s face twists in worry, his eyes practically welling. He sits on his knees in front of you and strokes your arm. “We’re so sorry, Y/N,” he says. His touch feels like a cooling balm. You lean into it.
Seokjin looks like he wants to smack himself.
“Hyung, you told us not to touch her; why would you touch her?” Jeongguk scolds.
“Are you feeling alright?” Seokjin asks, ignoring Jeongguk.
“Yeah,” you say. “All good.” Jimin makes to stand and takes his magic hands with him. You nearly whine, but you decide you need to keep the remnants of your dignity intact.
You need a fucking break.
If this is what you will feel like every time one of your soulmates touches you, you decide the bond could go unrecognised.
The door flies open, and there is a loud shout in Korean. “Where is she?”
Seokjin calls for them to come to the room you are in.
A tall man rushes in; his hair is spiky and a little dishevelled.
He kneels on the floor next to Seokjin. “I’m Namjoon,” he quickly introduces himself. “How are you feeling?“
You are sick of the question. It seems that everyone is informed on your current state of agony and despair. You wish they would leave you alone with it.
The others settle around you on the couch.
You make sure to keep your distance from everyone. Maybe you lean a little into Seokjin. And maybe you lean in specifically towards his broad shoulders.
If a beautiful man stands before you—worried for you —far be it from you to reject his comfort.
“Overwhelmed?” you answer Namjoon.
“I apologise for that,” he winces. “I am guessing you know why you’re here?” he asks.
You nod woefully. “It seems I am all of your soulmates.”
Namjoon nods. “We were surprised to find out you were ARMY. We’d never seen glimpses of you listening to our music before.”
Your eyebrows furrow. You were unsure of what he meant by ‘glimpses’, but you had bigger things to worry about.
“I am not ARMY,” you say quickly. “My best friend is, though. She wanted me to go with her to your concert.” You set the record straight.
Namjoon’s lips twitch. “So you are not ARMY?”
“Correct. I am a bystander.” You say primly.
His amusement is visible. You ignore it.
A golden string between you two hums as if pulling you into each other. You decide to cling to Seokjin’s shoulders instead.
He seems to be getting suspicious of your body part of choice.
It isn’t like he can blame you. You are, after all, a girl with needs.
He awkwardly pats your hands before gently removing them from his body and standing up. You resist the urge to frown.
“Every time we touch her, she goes into shock,” he tells the others.
“Not with me,” Jeongguk informs the others proudly. You nod in agreement. “It just felt like a tingle,” you say. Jeongguk grins at the information, and Taehyung rolls his eyes at Jeongguk’s antics.
The group turns to look at you. “You speak Korean?” Namjoon asks.
Busted. Where the hell was your head at? You’d gotten so used to hearing their voices that it seemed you’d forgotten they were currently real.
“A little bit,” you say, sheepishly.
“How much is a little bit?” Namjoon asks once again.
Over the past decade and a half, you and Amelia (mostly you) have subjected yourselves to countless K-dramas without subtitles, weird language learning apps, and so much more to teach yourselves the language. Amelia has thought you a fool and has cursed you out plenty for forcing her on this journey with you, but it seems to have ultimately paid off.
“I can hold a conversation,” you say, in Korean. You really don’t want to oversell yourself. The relief in the room is palpable. You realise a language barrier would be quite tedious if you were all to spend the rest of your lives together.
You shudder at the thought.
“That’s so wonderful!” Jimin’s joy is a living, breathing entity. It seems to radiate off him in waves. His smile stretches wide, and his eyes form small crescents.
He is so adorable; your heart clenches.
Your body decides now is a good time to remind you of the fact that there might be literal hellfire in your veins. In a blind effort to save yourself, you grab Namjoon’s hand. Realising your mistake, you jerk away from him. But the damage is done. You really, really need to get a fucking grip.
But unlike before, there is no body convulsing electrical current that greets you, but rather a clarification for the gentle beat at the back of your head.
You can feel his heartbeat, you realise.
Well, this is certainly a welcome surprise. You wish all your Soul Marks could be this peaceful.
“Your heart is beating really fast, soulmate,” Namjoon tells you, the amusement clear in his voice.
“Your heart is going to stop beating if you don’t shut up, Namjoon,” you say in a similar tone.
He grins at you. You realise he has dimples. He is stunning, and you need to stop staring at him. You feel your heart race. Namjoon seems aware of this as his smile curves into a smirk.
You decide you’ve had enough of him. He is being too smug. Before you can curse him out, there is yet another loud bang. Two men rush into the room; one is a little shorter and is wearing glasses that make him look extremely sophisticated, along with a taller man with frosted tips. The latter’s eyes zero in on you before rushing towards you. “Is this her? Is she okay?” He asks in the general direction of the group. Namjoon nods at him. “This is Y/N,” he says. Our Soul Marks are manifesting differently on her, but after Jimin’s Touch, I think it’s best if we let her be for a while,” he tells the man. You squint at him.
You know this one; he has been the first one that Amelia had pointed out to you. You have found his smile beautifully genuine since it also happened to form a heart.
“Hoseok?” You say. You are just saying his name, hoping you are correct. He startles at the sound of your voice. You wave at him shyly. God, you are pathetic.
He smiles warmly at you. “Hi!”
The other man sits a curious distance away from you, as if assessing you.
Namjoon moves away and starts to make phone calls. Hoseok sighs beside you. You raise an eyebrow in question.
“He has to let our manager know about you,” Hoseok tells you. “You need to sign some forms and contracts, I think,” he makes a face. “But it’s to ensure that we’re all protected the best we can be.”
You nod slowly. It made sense; they were pretty famous and obviously something like this would need to be kept under wraps until the company was ready to announce it. The last thing you wanted was to be the reason their career plummeted.
A loud ringing interrupts you. You frown and look at the called ID. It is Amelia. You’d forgotten to update her. The poor girl probably thinks you are dead. You look at the group apologetically before picking up.
“Are you alive!?” Amelia practically yells. You hold the phone away from your ear.
“Yes.” You reply.
“Are you being held at gunpoint? Snap once if yes.”
“No, but speaking of gunpoint, what are the chances you can hire a hitman to take me out?” You inquire.
“None, why would I waste money on something I can do myself?”
“Ok, received.”
“Where are you? Who are you with?”
“I’m not really sure, and I can’t tell you.”
“So you are being kidnapped?”
“No.”
“Are you with BTS?” she asks. She obviously meant it as a joke, but you hesitate for a minute. The group shakes their heads at you, and you fight a groan.
“Why would I be with BTS, Amelia?” You ask, looking at BTS.
“You said it yourself; statistically you have a higher probability of ending up in a situation with them.”
“Your stats being fanfiction?”
“Correct.”
“Okay, I’m hanging up now, okay?”
“Wait! Are you safe?” she asks.
“Yes, honey, I’m safe,” you reassure her before hanging up.
You smile sheepishly at your soulmates. “That was my best friend, Amelia.” You tell them. “She was just wondering if I was still alive and breathing.”
You lean against the couch, your shoulders brushing Yoongi’s leg. You move away a little, unsure where anyone stands on physical touch. Well, that was a lie. They all seem pretty comfortable with physical touch, but you were pre-warned about Yoongi’s selective aversion to it. Namjoon was more forward about it, you knew.
“I think I’m going to hit the hay,” You inform them. “Who volunteers to drive me home?”
“It’s pretty late,” Namjoon says. “It would be safer to stay the night. We can book you a separate room, if you’d like?”
You shake your head. “No, don’t go through the trouble. I can call myself an Uber,” you tell them. Jimin hesitates.
“Would you like my number?” you ask no one in particular. Namjoon nods. “That would be easier,” he says sheepishly.
You blink. “How else were you planning on communicating with me?” you ask, writing down your number on the hotel’s notepad.
Namjoon doesn’t dignify you with a response.
You spend the ride back home wondering how exactly you ended up in this position. Amelia was going to kill you when she found out.
guys im acc excited im gonna pee
ok i prmise ill try to update every weekend ok...? ok! bye lov eu
After some editing and decisions to cut some material from the fic (it may be posted later as a drabble or a part 2), I am proud to present, Mafia Yandere Hoseok and his precious.
yandere mafia au
19.4k words
pairing: Hoseok x reader
beta readers: @pennyellee and @chimchimsauce
“Precious,” his voice rang out through the building. “Darling, it’s time to come out now.”
She didn’t come out, choosing instead to press herself further back into her hiding place with her hand clamped over her mouth to stop any noise that might give away her position from slipping out.
“Aren’t you tired, precious?” he asked, his footsteps echoing. “Aren’t you ready to go home?”
His footsteps stopped and there was an agonizing moment of silence before he spoke again but it wasn’t to her. “Fan out. I want this place swept from top to bottom. Keep all the exits sealed.” He ordered, voice hard and demanding. “I don’t want her hurt. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” the lackey acknowledged and there was quickly a series of orders fired off, directions on where everyone was to search.
“It’s okay, darling.” he spoke again, his tone completely different as he addressed her than when he was giving orders. “I’m not upset. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
She could hear the heavy sounds of boots falling on concrete as his men spread out in search of her.
There weren’t a lot of places to hide in the warehouse. The building clearly wasn’t in use, and there was only a handful of abandoned crates and machinery to provide shelter. She was hidden behind a group of crates, holding her breath as his men started their search for her.
“You’ve been driving me crazy all day, not knowing where you were.” he chuckled, the sound half tired and half something else, something almost manic. She was pushing the limits of his patience. She knew that, but she still couldn’t bring herself to come out of her own accord. She’d work too hard for this opportunity to simply give herself up.
They both knew that she wasn’t getting away. He’d chased her down and cornered her here knowing full well it was a dead end. He wouldn't hurt her, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her slip away.
The sound of tactical boots was closer to her now. They were slowly but surely closing in on her, methodically going over every inch of the warehouse in search of her hiding spot.
It was a small miracle she’d even gotten this far. No, he never hurt her, but security around her was tight, ensuring that she stayed safely tucked away right where he wanted her. She was always right where he wanted her.
It was infuriating, and somehow his seeming lack of anger made it all the worse. No matter what she did, he had a seemingly endless supply of patience. She could spit in his face, and he’d still smile at her like it was all a game. Even now as she pushed every boundary set for her, he didn’t seem angry. He seemed tired, worried even, but not angry.
The crate she was hiding behind shifted, and an unfamiliar face peered down at her.
“Sir, we’ve found her!” He shouted before turning his attention back to her. “Ma’am.” He tilted his head respectfully, holding out a hand to help her up.
She didn’t take it, not even as she heard the others rapidly approaching.
“Precious.” he breathed a sigh of relief and a smile stretched across his features as she came into view.
Immediately she was pulled up and out of her crouched position as he crushed her to his chest, his fingers tangling into her already messy hair. There was no space between them as he held her close, as though he was frightened she’d slip through his fingers again or disappear altogether.
“There you are.” he murmured into her hair before pulling back so he could get a good look at her face, a smile spreading across his lips as he took her in. “You had me worried sick.”
She pulled back and stared at him silently, unsure how to proceed or what he was going to do next.
Tenderly, he pushed back the hair obscuring her features, taking in the dirt and dust that had settled over her face and clothes over the course of her adventures with disapproval. “Let’s get you home, darling.”
Hoseok scooped her up, keeping her close to his chest as he strode towards the exit to where the car was waiting to take them back to her gilded cage.
Y/N had to wonder as he carried her how she had gotten herself into this predicament in the first place.
It had all started with a funeral
Y/N stared at herself in the mirror trying to figure out how she was going to hide the marks littered across her neck and collarbones for the funeral. She couldn’t very well show up to her own brother’s funeral looking like she’d just gotten her back blown out. She was fairly impressed by the heart shaped hickey resting on the outer edge of her collarbone though. It was cute in its own way even if it would be a bitch to hide.
She eventually settled on a high-necked black dress. It had elbow length sleeves to accommodate for the warming spring weather, but the high neck hid the worst of the marks along her collarbones. The rest residing on her neck she could cover with makeup. The ones littering her thighs and hips would thankfully be kept a well hidden secret underneath her dress.
She was only in the city to arrange and attend the funeral. She’d moved away for college and hadn’t looked back. Kai, on the other hand, had stayed and thrived in the less savory part of the city. He’d already been caught up in it when they were teenagers and had only gotten more entrenched as time had gone by until it had finally caught up with him.
Y/N had gotten a call from one of her brother’s friends last week to let her know that Kai had been shot. Y/N had immediately packed a bag and gotten in the car. By the time she’d made it to the city, Kai was gone.
His friends had graciously offered her a place to stay while she arranged the funeral, but she had declined in favor of staying with a friend of her own who lived in the city. As kind as the offer had been, she didn’t want to have any more contact than needed with her brother’s friends. They were a mix of boys she remembered from her teenage years and new faces, but she knew well enough that they were all at least partially entrenched in the same life that had gotten her brother killed.
Staring at her neck as she began to apply careful layers of concealer, Y/N was struck again by the thought that a one night stand the night before her brother’s funeral probably hadn’t been her wisest idea. Hana had thought a night out would help get her mind off of everything. Y/N hadn’t thought that she’d intended for the night out to lead to mind-blowing sex and end with her sneaking out of one of the most gorgeous apartments she’d ever seen. Y/N was choosing to blame the lack of judgement on the mix of grief and vodka.
Y/N managed to cover her hickies for the most part. They at least wouldn’t be obvious to anyone at a passing glance. She didn’t really want anyone at the funeral thinking she was a whore even if her actions the previous night had been decidedly slutty.
The funeral itself went much as any funeral did, and then Y/N was left to deal with the seemingly endless throng of people coming to give their condolences. Most of them she knew to be Kai’s friends and associates. The roughened and scarred knuckles and the tattoos peeking out from beneath collars and shirt sleeves all but confirmed it. Kai had some of those same tattoos. She may not have seen or talked to Kai often over the past few years, but she recognized some of those tattoos.
The entire affair was exhausting. Y/N was sick to death of people telling her they were sorry for her loss. She almost thought she might scream if she heard it one more time. When her eyes fell on the newest arrival, she thought she might scream for an entirely different reason.
Her eyes had first been drawn to him because of the odd hush that had fallen over the space. All eyes had gone to him, not just hers, and for good reason. He had an intimidating aura, a presence that demanded respect. He was shrouded in a pair of dark slacks and a dark button down which had been generously unbuttoned to show off a glimpse of his chest. The jacket that was meant to go with the ensemble was stylishly draped over his shoulders, and gold flashed at his neck and his wrist. All eyes were on him as he made his way over to where she was standing. His making his way to her wasn’t wholly surprising. She was, after all, the only family member for anyone to pass on their condolences to. She’d heard dozens of half hearted apologies for her loss already, but this man didn’t seem the least bit grieved to be there. The expression on his face was more bored than anything else.
She kept her eyes on him as he approached, analyzing him. He was tall but not too tall. His build was all lean muscle like a dancer's would be, and he moved with the same grace one would expect of a dancer. The sharp planes of his face combined with his dark hair and his build to make a rather impressive figure overall- one that was undeniably handsome and a little intimidating.
She wasn’t the only person in the room that seemed to find him thus. Everyone else held themselves still and quiet as they watched him in a mix of respect and apprehension. She did as well, but with a distinct nausea thrown into the mix as well.
He stopped in front of her, reaching out a slender hand to take hers into his own, her own hand engulfed in his grip as he smiled at her. It was an oddly heart shaped expression though the joy that one would typically associate with a smile wasn’t there. It didn’t meet his eyes, and those, she found, were cold and dead like a shark’s.
The hands she had shaken all throughout the day were rough and calloused, and most of the suits that she had seen were ill-fitting, nothing like the impeccable fit of the man who stood before her. The man who now faced her was something wholly different, and she couldn't quite place how he had known her brother. Kai had been fairly low in the ranks as far as she had been aware. This man with his elegant hands and designer clothes didn’t seem like a follower. He didn’t sit low in the rank of anything if she had to take a guess. This was a man who wielded a fair amount of power. Worse than that, he was the man she had spent last night with, and he was looking at like the cat who had caught the canary.
“Hello again, precious.” he purred, and a cold sweat broke out across the back of her neck as she felt all the blood drain from her face. He had yet to release her hand, stroking his thumb across her knuckles.
“Hoseok.” she whispered his name, still unsure how he had come to be here but becoming increasingly nauseated by the possibilities of why.
He pouted, lips turned down at her lackluster response. “That’s all I get after last night?”
Her eyes widened, lips parted in shock at the blatant mention of their previous activities. “Hoseok!” she hissed, ripping her hand from his as her eyes frantically darted around the room to see if anyone had heard him.Unfortunately, most eyes in the room were glued to the two of them, and she could only assume they were all straining to hear what was being said as well.
“I was so upset to find my bed empty this morning, precious.” He sighed, rolling his shoulders back. “But how lucky I am to find you here! It must be fate!”
Lips set in a grim line, Y/N reached out and snatched his wrist, all but dragging him from the hall in an effort to get him away from the watchful eyes of the congregated mourners.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, dropping his wrist as though it had burned her as soon as they were outside of the funeral hall and away from the prying eyes and listening ears within.
“I can’t be here to see you?” He asked flirtatiously.
“It’s a funeral.” she deadpanned.
Y/N took a fortifying breath, squaring her shoulders as he met his eye with the best mask of indifference she could muster despite the war of emotions raging within. She didn’t want him there, but she didn’t need to let him know how much seeing him was truly bothering her.
“What are you doing here?” She repeated.
Hoseok arched a brow, taken aback by her cold reception of him. Hoseok wasn’t normally one for sleepovers, but it had bothered him to wake up that morning without her in his bed. He’d enjoyed their night together, and he’d thought she had too if the multiple orgasms were anything to go by. Panic followed by cold indifference was not the reaction he had been expecting from her, but he hadn’t been expecting to see her at one of his rival’s funerals either. He wasn’t complaining about the turn of events though. If anything, he was intrigued.
“I’ve come to pay my respects to the recently deceased.”
Her expression became even colder as she took in that information. It was confirmation of everything she had feared he was when he’d walked through the door.
“How did you know my brother?” She asked, staring him down with the best intimidating stare she could muster much to Hoseok’s continued amusement.
“Kai and I moved in similar circles.” He admitted nonchalantly. “Though I didn’t know he had such a delicious sister.”
Her jaw ticked in irritation. “Stop that.”
“Stop what, precious?”
“Implying things.”
Hoseok grinned, a wide toothy expression filled with an almost malicious glee. “It’s not an implication if you know, and I do know you, darling- quite intimately.” He leaned in so that they were cheek to cheek, his next words whispered into the shell of her ear. “I can still taste you on my tongue.”
Y/N flinched back, her cheeks reddening and her nostrils flaring as she tamped down her temper. “Of all the vile vulgar things to say. This is a funeral for god’s sake.”
His grin widened. “We could always talk about this more privately- back at my place.”
Y/N stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out how much audacity someone had to have to try to seduce someone at a funeral or how stupid they had to be.
She huffed out a sigh, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her heels had been painfully digging into her toes for the better part of an hour, and she had no patience to deal with this man and his blatant propositions.
“Are you absolutely insane? Have you lost your mind?” She asked, taking a step forward into his space much to his surprise. “This is a funeral. Worse, this is my brother’s funeral. Whatever momentary lapse of judgment I had last night- whatever mix of vodka and grief led me to the horrendously bad decision of sleeping with you is done. It’s over. I will not be repeating that particular mistake again. Now would you kindly leave?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. “I am trying to grieve in peace.”
Hoseok stared at her, taking a moment of his own to take in the woman who stood before him. She was red-eyed and irritable, and yet he found her as enchantingly beautiful as he had the night before when he’d taken her to his bed- perhaps even more so now as he was the subject of her ire.
He laughed, a full bodied high pitched laugh that did nothing to settle her nerves or lessen her anger.
“Precious, you are something else.” he spoke through the last of his laughter.
“Are you going to leave?” She asked, crossing her arms under her chest. “Or should I have you thrown out?”
“I’m Jung Hoseok, darling.”
He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, as though she should already know what that meant and the implications thereof.
Y/N stared at him for a second as though that was supposed to mean anything to her before letting out a scoffed sardonic laugh of her own. “I don’t really care who you are. This is still my brother’s funeral, and I don’t want you here.” She shrugged. “So thank you for coming, but you’re not wanted here.” She gestured lazily towards the exit as she spoke, trying her best to convey to the man, who she was beginning to think was more than a little thick , just where she wanted him to go.
The smile on his lips froze in place, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he took in her words. “Excuse me?”
She smiled, the expression mirroring his own shark-like grin as she leaned in, mirroring his earlier move. “The dick wasn’t that good anyway.” She whispered into his ear before backing away, smile still in place. “Thank you for coming, but you can go now.”
“Precious…”
“You can go now.” she repeated, dead serious as she stared him down.
He tongued his cheek, scoffing as he glanced away for a moment before returning his sharp gaze to her.
“If you came for seconds, there is nothing left for you here.” She interjected before he could say anything. “Lights out, doors closed.”
Hoseok stared at her, his retort dead on his tongue as she gazed at him expectantly. No one spoke to Jung Hoseok that way, least of all the women that he took to his bed, but here she was staring at him like he was the dirt beneath her shoe. Hoseok could barely picture her as the same woman who had been writhing beneath him in the throes of pleasure just a few mere hours before. This wasn’t the woman whom he’d littered with love bites as he’d made her cum over and over again. That woman had been inviting and enchanting. She’d been more than eager to submit to him. The woman before him now was just as enchanting, but she was cold as ice as she deigned to banish him from the funeral all together. There was nothing submissive about her, and Hoseok didn’t think he’d ever been more turned on in his life.
As he stood there contemplating the fact that his pants were suddenly a little bit tighter than would be considered comfortable, Y/N had already begun to move away from him, intent on returning to the funeral hall and leaving him behind without so much as a glance back in his direction.
His hand shot out, quick as a snake, to grab her by the wrist. His hold was tight but not bruising as he pulled her back into his orbit, eyes fixed on her a kind of adoring awe that made the uneasy feeling in her stomach once more develop into fullblown nausea.
“Precious,” he began, his voice a purr. “That’s not very nice of you- especially not when we got along so well last night.”
He held back a smile as he watched her lips purse in irritation.
“Get your hands off of me.” She grumbled, attempting to push his hand from its position gripped against her wrist.
Instead of releasing her, as she so clearly wanted him to do, Hoseok proceeded to pull her even closer, his free arm moving to wrap itself around her waist until he had her almost flush against him.
“I don’t appreciate disrespect, darling.” He cooed, fingers intimately splayed across her waist. “You’ll learn that with time.”
“I told you to get your hands off me.” she hissed, struggling against his hold.
“You liked my hands on you last night.” He pointed out with a grin stretched wide across his features.
“That is not the point!”
Hoseok shrugged, smirk still playing on his lips. “I think it is.”
“You’re despicable. This is a funeral.” She huffed, giving up her struggle as she came to the morbid realization that she wasn’t going to get out of his grip if he didn’t want her to. His hold was like steel, unmoveable, and yet surprisingly gentle.There was no intent to harm her in it, only to keep her close.
“We could have done this this morning if you hadn’t run off. A bouquet by the bedside. Breakfast in bed. Morning sex.” His smile was teasing as he waggled his brows at her suggestively.
“I don’t want any of that with you.”
“You wound me, precious.”
She huffed out a frustrated breath, once more pushing against his hold in an attempt to get him to release her. “I’m about to if you don’t let me go.”
“Have dinner with me.”
Y/N froze, all thought leaving her head as she tried to process what he’d just said. It seemed too ridiculous a thing for him to actually have said. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Have dinner with me.”
It sounded equally as ridiculous the second time.
“You must be out of your fucking mind.”
“Only for you, precious.”
Y/N gave one last hard shove, and Hoseok released her, allowing her to take several stumbling steps back as she tried to compose herself, her mind whirring with the insanity of his proposal. Last night had been a mistake. She had already admitted that to herself. She just hadn’t thought that it would have such an array of consequences. Nothing had prepared her for a clingy one night stand, let alone one that ran in the same less than legal circles as her own brother.
As she straightened out her dress and hair, both disheveled from her time in his arms, Y/N made the mental note never to drink anything mixed with vodka ever again.The aftereffects simply weren’t worth it.
“I think you should go.”
“Excuse me?” Hoseok’s head tilted to the side like an inquisitive dog as though he was trying to figure out if he had heard her correctly or not.
Y/N rolled her shoulders back, holding her head high as she stared him down. “Leave. You aren’t wanted here.”
His grin took on a sharklike quality as she spoke, all sharp edges with no real humor behind the expression. “No one speaks to me like that, precious.”
“Maybe they ought to.” She sniffed primly, a cold mask of indifference shifting into place despite the unease that he sparked within her.
“That’s not very nice, precious.”
“You’ve done nothing to deserve nice, and stop calling me that! I’m not your anything, let alone your precious.” she sniffed, disdain dripping from every word.
“Oh, I disagree.” He purred, expression still vaguely predatory as he sauntered closer to her, closing the distance between them. “I think you’re very precious, sweetheart. Maybe the most precious thing there is.”
“Despicable.” She spat, slapping his hand away as he moved to brush away one of the errant tendrils of her hair.
Hoseok straightened, squaring his shoulders and fixing the lapels of his suit. “I’ll leave you to grieve in peace, precious, but I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“I hope not.”
He reached out a slender hand, taking one of hers in his and raising it to his lips brushing a gentle kiss against her knuckles.
She yanked her hand back as soon as his lips made contact with her skin, hiding the offending limb in her skirts.
Hoseok chuckled, a smooth rich sound that carried all the mirth his previous smile had not. “Until next time, precious.”
Y/N didn’t wait for him to speak again. Instead she turned on her heel, heading back towards the funeral hall with a staunch refusal to sneak a glance backwards to see if he was still there. The prickling sensation of eyes on the back of her neck told her all she needed to know on that account.
No sooner had Y/N re-entered the funeral hall thanSuho, one of the friends of her brother’s she actually did know, came up to her brows furrowed with concern as he scanned her from head to toe as though trying to assure himself she wasn’t hurt in any way which was odd, but she shoved that thought to the back of her head. It by far wasn’t the strangest thing to happen that day.
“Suho.” She smiled tiredly, allowing the man to hug her. “Thank you for coming.”
He didn’t respond, releasing her from the hug and grabbing her by the arm to drag her away from prying ears. “You need to leave.”
“What?”
Suho sighed impatiently, moving them both towards the exit as he did. “I don’t know why Jung Hoseok was here or how you know him, but you need to leave.”
“Jung Hoseok?” Her brows furrowed quizzically. “He said he was an associate of Kai’s. I don’t particularly like him, but he’s already gone. Not much he can really do to disrupt things now.”
Suho grimaced at that, practically pushing her out the door into a side hallway. “Jung Hoseok is not our associate. He’s not our friend, and he’s certainly not our ally.”
That caught her interest. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that he’s made it his personal mission in life to try to eradicate us.”
“You don’t mean…”
“I do.”
Y/N froze, her blood running cold as she processed the information. That man had been responsible for her brother’s death however directly or indirectly, and she had fucked him the day before the funeral.
Bile rose in her throat.
“Oh God.”
“I don’t like the way he was looking at you, Y/N.” Suho shook his head. “And then he let you drag him out. It wasn’t like him, and I don’t like that at all.” Y/N kept her lips pressed firmly together. There was no need to let Suho know how close to the truth he was on that count.
“If he’s responsible, why was he even here?” She questioned, her voice a hoarse whisper.
Suho’s frown deepened as he led her towards the building exit. “I don’t know. Maybe he was here to gloat. Whatever the reason was, I don’t like it, but I especially don’t like how interested he acted with you. Jung Hoseok doesn’t let anyone drag him around let alone look amused while they do it.”
After being escorted out of her own brother’s funeral, Y/N was ushered back to the relative safety of her friend’s apartment with strict instructions from Suho not to venture out unless it was absolutely necessary. Y/N thought he would have preferred for her to be out of the city entirely, but there were still things only she could do as Kai’s family and the beneficiary of his will.
She wasn’t entirely sure what Suho thought Hoseok would do to her if he caught her out and about unaccompanied, but she figured his imaginings were much different than what the reality would be. She got the impression that Hoseok was far less interested in hurting her than in a repeat of their first meeting. Suho didn’t need to know that though. She was perfectly happy to keep all the sordid details to herself. There was a chance that Suho’s predictions were correct, but she highly doubted it based on the ostentatious bouquet that had been delivered to her door the morning after the funeral with a card signed JHS. The flowers had promptly been deposited in the trash along with the card and the invitation to dinner it contained.
The myriad of marks along her body were finally beginning to fade much to her relief. She was running out of ways to keep them from view as she dealt with the legal aftermath of Kai’s death. Soon they would be entirely gone and with them the reminder of the man who left them, not that he was easy to forget. Oh no, Jung Hoseok was doing his best to be a thorn in her side even though she hadn’t set eyes on him since the funeral.
Bouquets and gifts arrived almost daily bearing with them invitations to dinner or drinks. One had been particularly bold- inviting her directly to a repeat performance of their first encounter. Every note was signed in the same quick decisive hand by JHS, and every single note, bouquet, and gift immediately found its way to the trash. She did have to admire his persistence as unwanted as it was. He was not a man to take no for an answer, but she wasn’t one to be so easily won over- especially not after learning that he was the reason that Kai was dead.
She wasn’t sure how delusional someone had to be to think they could woo someone whose brother they had killed, but she was sure that it had to be an unhealthy amount. One night of passion wasn’t enough to erase his sins and neither were the endless stream of gifts. Her thoughts on the matter didn’t stop the notes and gifts from coming though. Hana thought it was romantic, but Y/N knew better. To her it seemed less romantic and more obsessive, and that was not something she wanted to become entangled in. All she truly wanted was to tie up the loose ends that came with being the sole executor of her brother’s estate and return to the comfort of her own home and the safety of knowing that the city and the majority of its inhabitants were far away from her.
One of the inhabitants that she dearly wanted far away from her was Suho. Logically, she knew that he was trying to be helpful. She knew he was trying to do his part to take care of Kai posthumously through her, but he was annoying the shit out of her. Everywhere she went every appointment with lawyers she attended, Suho was right there with her.
Y/N was fully aware that it was a good thing that he was there. Most of Kai’s assets would be turned back over to Suho and the rest of their cohort. Y/N had no need of them and no want of them. Suho’s signatures were needed for the transfer of property, but she was sick of seeing his face every day. She was sick of him treating her like some sort of delicate flower- treating her like he didn’t know her at all when they’d known each other since they were children.
Kai and Suho had always been thick as thieves- the best of friends since the moment they’d met in the 3rd grade. They’d all been normal then, just kids, but people don’t stay kids forever. Suho and Kai entered middle school, and the tide began to turn. Suho started hanging out with a different crowd, and Kai followed right along after him like he always did the inseparable duo that they were. Kai was never quite the same after that.
While Suho had risen through the ranks of their burgeoning group, finding himself in a position of leadership, Kai had not reached such levels of success. He’d stayed firmly in the middle of the pack, a higher up of the lower ranking members of their gang as much of an oxymoron as that seemed. Y/N had always thought it was stupid that he’d thrown his life away for that, but it wasn’t her life, and she didn’t have much say in what her brother did. She never had. As the little sister she’d always been an afterthought, something that trailed along after Kai and his friends. Sure, he loved her, but it hadn’t been enough to stop him from following right after Suho even when she’d begged him not to.
By the time they were in their late teens, Y/N didn’t feel like she even knew who her brother was anymore, and she couldn’t help but blame Suho for that. She’d never been able to look at either boy the same way again. She still loved her brother, but she couldn’t be around him, not when she was so terribly certain that the path he was on would be his ruin.
Y/N went to college, and Kai, several years her senior, had remained doing his own thing. After college, she’d left the city, moved somewhere where she could try to forget that her brother was a criminal and the deteriorating state of their relationship with each other.
She hadn’t seen Kai in years before Suho had called her with the news, a difference in opinion on his life choices had kept them fairly separate. Kai had made his choices, and she had made hers, but it didn’t make the pain of his loss any less hard to bear. The pitying glances she would catch Suho sending her way didn’t help matters either. She didn’t need pity- least of all his.
She had just escaped Suho and the lawyers to find a moment of quiet and some much needed caffeine when she was met with something far more unpleasant than either Suho or the lawyers.
Y/N froze, tensing at the feel of the hand on her lower back. Even without looking, she had a sickening feeling she knew exactly who that hand belonged to.
“Stalking is a crime.” she sighed, her gaze shifting to the side to see if her suspicion had been correct.
It had.
“You’re a hard woman to get a hold of.” He sighed dramatically in turn. “All of my efforts met with silence. I’m starting to think you don’t like me.”
“I don’t.” she moved forward causing his hand to fall away. “Some people would have gotten the hint.”
Y/N steadfastly ignored the man as she stepped forward to the counter, ready to place her order and get on with her day- hopefully away from Hoseok. “One iced chai latte please.” she smiled at the barista as she started to grab her wallet from her bag only for an elegant hand to appear from the corner of her eye- a black amex extended and at the ready.
“We’ll take an iced Americano as well.”
“He’s not with me.” she snapped, glaring at him from the corner of her eye as she pulled out her own credit card.
Hoseok gently pushed her hard away, insisting the barista take his card instead.
“It’s the least I can do for my favorite girl.”
“We don’t know each other that well.”
Hoseok ignored her comment, choosing instead to place a hand on her back again and gently push her in the direction of where they were meant to wait for their drinks.
“You didn’t get my gifts?” he asked once they were out of earshot of the queue.
“I got them.”
“You didn’t like them?”
“I wasn’t a fan of the sender.” she shrugged, checking the time on her phone.
“That’s not very nice of you, precious.”
Y/N glanced up from her phone to find Hoseok staring at her with a hard expression- jaw tight with displeasure despite the smile on his face.
“How exactly did you expect me to respond?” she asked, crossing her arms under her chest.
“A little gratitude would be nice. Maybe a little adoration.”
The hair on the back of her neck stood up on end. His tone had an arrogant, condescending quality to it that set her teeth on edge. She fully turned to face him, shoulders pulled back and her lips set on a grim line.
“What exactly should I be grateful for? Your tendency to stalk? Your unwanted interest in me? Or the fact that you are the reason my brother is dead?”
Hoseok stared at her, knocked a little off balance by the cold rage in her eyes. He was used to people looking at him with varying levels of anger, but he wasn’t used to the women he showed interest in looking at him like that. He certainly didn’t want her looking at him like that. He definitely wanted her eyes on him but not with that expression. He much preferred the sultry look in her eye from their first meeting. That look had been nowhere to be found lately though.
Hoseok glanced away, tongue in cheek as he tried to reign in his temper- a dry laugh escaping him as he did.
“If you were anyone else, precious…”
“You would what?” she interrupted him. “Kill me?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “What would you do?”
Hoseok’s smile was sharp as he regarded her. “I already warned you that I’m not a patient man, precious. I’d be a little more careful if I were you.”
She shrugged, moving to take her drink from the counter. “It’s not like any of this matters anyway.”
That caught Hoseok off guard.
“How so?”
She shrugged again, and Hoseok’s jaw ticked in annoyance.
“Your obsessive stalker tendencies won’t last forever. I’m sure you’ll forget all about me and move on to the next unfortunate woman in no time.”
Hoseok’s posture relaxed slightly, his smile a little easier. “You’re unforgettable, darling.”
Y/N made a face.
“I’m sure distance will help the process along.” She smiled with as much grace as she could muster, which was admittedly not very much as she began to make her way to the door only for Hoseok to grab her arm, stopping her in her tracks.
“What do you mean distance will help?” he demanded.
Y/N grimaced in displeasure, trying to wrench her arm away but Hoseok held fast refusing to let her walk away.
“What do you mean?” he insisted.
She sighed deeply, fully turning to face him. “I don’t live in this city.” She started, keeping her tone even and slow as though explaining something to a child. “I will eventually-sometime soon- go home, and then we can both forget that we ever met each other, and you and Suho can go back to trying to tear each other to pieces without any involvement from me.”
Hoseok’s grip on her arm tightened, his expression taking on a pinched quality. “Forget each other?”
“What do you think happens when people no longer interact with each other?” She snapped, trying to wrench her arm out of his grip to no avail. “Will you let go?” She hissed in irritation when his grip held firm. “I have places to be, and you’re harassing me!”
Hoseok stared at her, stone faced except for the occasional irritated tick in the muscle of his jaw.
“What is wrong with you?” She gasped, finally giving up her struggles to level him with a glare.
“You can’t leave.” He stated, already moving towards the door with her in tow.
“What are you- What are you talking about?” the space between her brows furrowed in confused irritation as he pulled her along after him, not unlike how she’d pulled him out of the funeral. “Of course I can leave!”
“You can’t leave.” he repeated, completely serious.
“I don’t even live in this godforsaken city, and thank fuck for that!”
Hoseok stopped once they were outside the cafe, staring at her and, drinking in the frazzled irritated state she was in as his mind raced. He hadn’t anticipated her leaving. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that she would be leaving the city behind and with it, him.
He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since the morning he’d woken up alone. He wasn’t one to pine, but he’d made the choice to let the incredibly sexy woman from his club spend the night with him- something he never did- and had awoken to cold sheets and an empty bed. It hadn’t been an unusual circumstance. Hoseok never let his paramours spend the night in his bed, but he had wanted her to stay and had been more than a little upset that she’d slipped away like a thief in the night. It had been his incredible luck to find her later that same day- eyes red-rimmed and dressed in black but still as gorgeous as the night before. He’d already been planning on tracking her down. No one walked out on Jung Hoseok. It had been an act of fate running into her again, and he had no intention of letting her slip away twice. The only hiccup in his mind had been his association with the deceased, but it was a minor thing. They could easily move past it. They had a fate together.
He’d never felt like this about a woman before. She plagued his thoughts, waking and dreaming, and yet she seemed entirely unaffected by him. His attempts to woo her went unanswered, and she gave him about as much regard as one would a bug crawling across the floor. He wasn’t a man used to rejection. He was a man used to everyone around him falling at his feet, but she stood tall against him, regarding him as a nuisance. It was infuriating, maddening, and it made him even more deeply infatuated with the woman she was. It made him crave the breathless submission- the sweet surrender and soft embrace of their first meeting. He wanted her with him- by his side and in his bed. She could regard the rest of the world as dirt beneath her shoe. He’d encourage it, but he wanted her to be soft with him and him only.
“You can’t leave,” he repeated, grip almost bruising.
“I can do whatever I want.” she huffed. “Now let go before someone calls the cops on you.”
“No one is going to call the cops on me, sweetheart.” He smiled sweetly, pulling out his own phone as he did, hand still firmly gripped around her wrist. “Now hush. I have to make a phone call.”
She squeaked in indignation at the command, but Hoseok didn’t pay her any mind.
His mind had been whirring with possibilities from the moment that she had mentioned leaving. There was absolutely no way that he was going to let her leave the city, not when he hadn’t had the chance to properly woo her. All his attempts so far had been met with outright rejections- not ideal for winning hearts- but Hoseok was convinced that was only because she was upset with him over the matter of her brother.Everything had been fine between them before she’d found out, and with time, it would be fine again. He just needed the time to melt the icy exterior she’d formed around herself after finding out.
Hoseok fingers flew across the screen even as he gave orders- a plan being formed and set in motion all at once. If time was what she needed, time was what he would give her, but she wouldn’t be leaving the city.
It wasn’t often that Jung Hoseok had to work for the favor of the women in his life. He simply didn’t have to. Women fawned over him for a multitude of reasons: wealth, looks, skills. There was no need to work adoration when it was so freely given, but this wasn’t to say that Hoseok couldn’t be charming when he wanted to be. Hoseok could be the very picture of charm and grace when he wanted to be. He knew very well how to treat a woman. It was easier to accept baseless adoration than it was to cultivate true devotion. True devotion took effort, and for Y/N, Hoseok was more than willing to make the effort. She didn’t just deserve it, she demanded it.
Hoseok had a constant stream of diversion around him. Work kept him occupied much of the time, but in the leisure time he did have, there was no shortage of amusements and company to enjoy them with. His initial interaction with Y/N L/N had been much the same. She’d simply been the woman to catch his eye that evening. What had caused him to become so fixated on her was something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.
Even half drunk she hadn’t accepted anything less than his full attention, and he had been more than willing to give it to her fixated on the way the silky material of her dress rode up on her thighs and the strands of hair that fell out of her careless updo to hang around the column of her neck. She had been the image of carefully constructed reckless abandon. The scent of jasmine had floated around her, clinging to her skin and wafting up from her hair every time she moved. Everything about her had been curated almost as if to lure him in specifically and leave him drunk on her essence.
By the time they reached the car, Hoseok had the basics all ready to go. He had never had to force a woman to be with him, and he didn’t plan on starting now, but there was nothing wrong with giving her a push in the right direction. He could be quite charming when he wanted, and he was more than ready to show her just how charming he could be. She just needed a little push in the right direction to get them started as well as a push into the vehicle.
The short walk to the car had been spent planning on his end and with endless struggle on hers, but nothing she’d done had managed to break the iron grip he had on her wrist. Nothing she did broke his grip though, and no one on the street paid her protests any mind. Hoseok didn’t pay her struggles any mind either.
“After you.” he offered as he held the door to the backseat open.
“Go fuck yourself.” She hissed, kicking out in another attempt to break his hold on her.
A sharp humorless smile spread across his face as she spoke. “But why would I do that, precious, when I have you?”
Y/N made a noise half way between outrage and shock as Hoseok scooped her into his arms and swiftly deposited her within the backseat of the vehicle, climbing in after her to ensure that she didn’t climb out the other side.
Quick instructions were given to the driver as Hoseok climbed into the car, hands already reaching to pull Y/N close to him as she tried to open the opposite door to throw herself out of the vehicle.
“Stop that.” Hoseok hissed as her elbow made contact with his abdomen.
“Let me out!” She struggled against his hold, trying desperately to get out of his hold.
“You’re going to hurt yourself.” he scolded as he managed to get her arms trapped tight to her sides so that she couldn’t repeat the earlier motion of jabbing at him.
“Let me out!” She shrieked, throwing her head back in an attempt to headbutt him as he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms fully around her torso to stop her from causing herself or him any more harm.
“Stop.”
“This is kidnapping!”
“It’s not kidnapping!” He snapped back in offense. “I’m keeping you from making a mistake.”
“Psychopath!”
He huffed out a breath, frustration nearly radiating off of him as he held her down. “You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be, precious.”
“Boss.” The man driving the car reached back, handing a cloth to Hoseok as he did.
“Last chance, precious.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Wrong choice.”
Quick as a viper, Hoseok had the cloth pressed against her nose and mouth. The pressure, unyielding as he held her firmly. The sweet scent of the cloth seeping into her lungs the longer he kept it pressed against her airways even as she struggled against him.
Her struggles grew weaker and weaker against him as he held her there until finally, the world grew fuzzy around the edges, and eventually, she saw nothing anymore.
Y/N opened her eyes to a pounding headache and an uncomfortable burning sensation in her nose and the back of her throat. The combined feeling was so uncomfortable, that she closed her eyes, turned over, and buried her face in the pillow, hoping to smother the discomfort by falling back asleep, but this idea was disrupted by the fact that her pillows definitely didn’t smell like spice and citrus and something woody and earthy. The pillows in Hana’s spare room also didn’t smell like that either.
Her eyes shot back open as she turned back onto her back, eyes staring up at a ceiling she didn’t recognize. Her walls weren’t painted soft beige and neither were Hana’s. In that same thread of thought, the bed was far too comfortable to be the one at Hana’s house. That was little more than a thin mattress rolled out on the floor for an unexpected visitor. This bed was both too large and too comfortable to fit the bill.
Slowly, she sat up, taking in her surroundings despite the continued discomfort in her nose and throat. The curtains were drawn making the room dim except for the threads of moonlight slipping through. The light was too pale and soft to be daylight despite it having been daylight the last time she could remember being conscious. Slowly, as more awareness dawned on her, the last conscious memories she had began to filter back.
The cafe. Hoseok. The car.
The room had to be his. Though the dim lighting didn’t allow her to see enough detail to confirm or deny if it was the same room she and Hoseok had ended their first ill-fated encounter in, there was no other option of whose room this could be. And if this was his room- she had to assume the man himself wouldn’t be far away.
Despite the raw burning sensation that still lingered in her airways, Y/N threw off the comforter and swung her legs over the side of the bed. It was at this point she noticed that the clothes she was in were hardly her own. The sunny yellow pattern of her skirt and the sensible mock-necked shirt of earlier were gone. In their place was a silk nightshirt that fell down to the top of her thighs. With an ever dawning sense of horror, Y/N realized her bra was missing as well, though thankfully the other half of the set was still where it should have been.
She made her way to the window, drawing back the curtains to see that the sun had fully set. Moonlight illuminated the garden below the bedroom window, and the high wall that surrounded the property. The garden was moderately sized, but not so large that she had to assume she’d been taken too far outside the city. It did mean that she wasn’t in the same residence she’d been in before though. That had been a penthouse in the midst of the city. This clearly was not.
Y/N turned away from the window, making her way back towards what she assumed was the door leading out of the bedroom. Much to her relief, the door was unlocked, allowing her to slip into the hall.
The hall itself was lined with windows, soft yellow lighting making it clear that the house had not gone to bed for the evening, and putting Y/N even further on her guard. She wasn’t sure who would be roaming the house and who was aware of her presence there. She also wasn’t sure where Hoseok was, or if he was even in the house itself. Running into him was the worst case scenario. There would be no sneaky exit if she ran into him within the hallways.
Softly, she padded through the hall following it towards the end where a staircase made its way to the first floor of the house. Soft light spilled up from the first floor but no sound. The house had been dead quiet so far except for the barely there sound of her own footfalls against the rug running the length of the hall. Cautiously, Y/N began her descent, doing her best as she did to minimize any noise she might make. The quiet of the house made her feel as though she would be able to hear a pin drop. It didn’t give her much hope that any noise she might accidentally make would go unnoticed.
Just as she reached the last stair, a voice rang out from one of the adjoining rooms.
“You’re awake.”
She froze, unsure on if she should stay put or if she should turn tail and flee in whatever direction the front door was most likely to be in.
The choice was swiftly taken from her as Hoseok emerged into the hall.
He was as dressed down as she had ever seen him- hair loose over his forehead, slipper clad feet, and loungewear that probably cost more than her rent adorning the rest of him.
“How are you feeling precious?” he asked, tone soft and concerned as he took in the sight of her, hand lifting as he came to a stop in front of her to brush against her upper lip.
She pulled away with a hiss as he made contact with the raw skin there.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Chloroform is nasty stuff, but I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“Where am I?” she asked, her voice coming out in a croak through the raw skin of her throat.
“You’re home, precious.”
She took a stumbling step back, heel catching on the last stair of the staircase behind her. Hoseok reached out quick as a viper, snaking an arm around her waist and steadying her before she could finish her fall.
“Careful, darling.” He chided, pulling her closer and away from the stairs as he did. “Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Y/N shoved his hands away, stepping to the side to avoid another stumble into the stairs. Hoseok allowed her the distance, watching her with a soft teasing smile as her eyes darted around the space, searching for possible exits.
“I think you should sit down.” he hummed, head tilted to the side. “You look like you need it.”
She recoiled, snatching both of her arms back in an attempt to avoid him. “Don’t touch me.”
A long suffering sigh released itself. “You’re overreacting, sweetheart. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You kidnapped me.”
“That’s such a vulgar term for it.” he waved his hand dismissively. “It makes it sound so violent. I stopped you from making a decision that was going to ruin what we have.”
“We don’t have anything! We slept together once! When I was drunk!” She shouted, chest heaving as her breathing grew shallower and faster. “And on top of that you killed my brother! What could we possibly have together?”
His eyes remained fixated on her, expression soft and adoring as though her tirade meant nothing to him. Everything was right in his world, while she felt several seconds away from total collapse.
“And yet, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” He hummed, stepping forward even as she continued to scramble back. He continued to press forward, pushing her further and further back as he advanced until there was nowhere left to retreat.
Her back hit the wall, and Hoseok was quick to follow, caging her in with hands on either side of her head, leaning in so their faces were only centimeters apart. His eyes closed in contentment as he took in a deep breath, taking in the scent of her hair as he did.
“Ever since that night, you’ve been haunting my thoughts.” He murmured, lips brushing against her hair. With a chuckle he continued. “No one has ever walked out on me before.”
She stayed frozen, barely breathing as he continued.
“I never let anyone stay the night, but you, you were special. I wanted you to stay- wanted one more night, maybe more, and then I woke up, and you were gone.” he sighed, hand creeping around to cradle the nape of her neck, tilting her head so she was forced to meet his gaze. “That hurt my feelings, precious. I thought I was going to have to scour the city to find you again because no one walks out on Jung Hoseok, but there you were at the funeral. It was fate.”
“It was an accident.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, the sound barely even a whisper.
“It was fate.” he insisted, grip tightening just a fraction where his hand held her head in place.
“You killed my brother.”
He cooed, both hands moving to cradle her face. “No, precious. I didn’t kill him. He was a casualty. I didn’t order his death.”
“You killed-”
“You know the dangers his lifestyle posed just as well as I do.” Hoseok interrupted her, gaze boring into hers. “He knew the risks too. His death? That night? The funeral? It was all fate. It brought you to me.”
She trembled under his touch as the full weight of his delusion settled on her.
“You… you can’t just kidnap people and call it fate.” she denied, still frozen under his soft touch and adoring gaze.
He smiled softly, devastatingly, as he leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. “Of course I can.” he murmured, voice lowering to match her own hushed trembling tone. “What else would you call it?”
She didn’ t have an answer for that. Their initial meeting and the following run-in had been a horrible coincidence that even she had to admit seemed almost like the plotline of a drama. His unwavering belief it was fate, wasn’t wholly crazy. His following actions were, but the initial belief that their meeting was fate wasn’t so far out there. The problem was, he couldn’t take no for an answer.
She didn’t even notice she’d started crying until Hoseok wiped the tears from her cheeks, cooing softly to her. “Don’t cry, precious. I’m going to take such good care of you. You’ll never want for anything. You’ll never even have to lift a finger if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t want it.”
He ignored her.
“I’ll spend every day worshipping you.”
“I just want to go home.”
“This is home, precious.” He murmured, pressing a kiss between her brows,lingering close so that his lips continued to brush against her skin as he spoke. “You just have to accept that.”
“No.” she whispered.
“Darling….”
“No!” she screamed, pushing him back with more force than either of them expected and dashing away, running blindly in the hopes of getting anywhere that wasn’t by him.
Her feet skidded against the floor as she paused, eyes darting wildly as she tried to puzzle out which direction to go.
“Y/N!” Hoseok barked from behind her, following at a more leisurely pace despite the clipped tone of his voice.
The sound of him calling for her spurred her into motion once more. She dashed away, running in what she hoped was the direction of the front door, or any door that could keep her away from him. Hoseok followed behind, not deigning to run after her.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be, Y/N.” he called, irritation bleeding into his previously dulcet tones. “Getting yourself all worked up and for what?”
She ignored him, almost sobbing in relief as she reached the front door, the handle turning easily under her touch. She didn’t wait to see what Hoseok would do. Unsteadily, she practically threw herself out of the entrance and into the driveway.
Her mad dash was cut short as she ran almost straight into what had to be a security guard, his concerned eyes looking down at her as his hands steadied her.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” he asked, taking in the night shirt and her bare feet as he cataloged her appearance.
“She’s fine.” Hoseok called out, voice still clipped as he sauntered over.
“Let me go.” She begged, hands clutching at the guards arms as she tried to push out of his hold as well meaning as it was. “You have to let me go.”
“Ma’am?”
“She’s fine.” Hoseok repeated, closing the distance and slipping an arm around her waist, easily tugging her away from the guard. “Just a little trouble adjusting. Isn’t that right, darling?” He quirked a brow, as though daring her to disagree in front of his men.
“Let go!” She hissed, pushing against him. “I don’t want to be here!”
Hoseok chuckled, though the sound lacked the fondness of earlier. “See?” he shrugged, reaching down to adjust his hold and lift her into a bridal carry. “Just a little trouble adjusting.”
“Let me go!” She shrieked, writhing in his hold. “You’re crazy!”
“Enough.”
The word wasn’t yelled. He didn’t even raise his voice. The word was spoken softly but with a finality and authority that was devastating. It calm and quiet and yet deadly.
“I won’t let you hurt yourself, precious.” he was stern as he carried her back into the house, his touch burning against the bare skin of her legs. “You can cry and rage as much as you want, but you will not put yourself in harm’s way,”
“I hate you.” She hissed.
“That’s fine too.” He shrugged. “It’ll fade with time.”
Neither of them spoke again until he carried her into the living room, setting her gently down on the sofa.
“I think we should go over some ground rules, precious.”
“Fuck you.”
He grinned, sharp and rogueish. “You will.” The sound she made in response was strangled and outraged. “But for now, ground rules.”
She stared at him, seething as he spoke.
“I already promised you wouldn’t want for anything, and I meant it. You’ll be well taken care of. Anything you want, you’ll have.”
“Except freedom.”
“You’re not a prisoner, precious.” He disagreed, sinking into the opposite end of the sofa as she curled up into the corner. “You’ll be able to go out, shop, do what you’d like.”
“But I can’t leave you.”
“If you want to go out, you’ll either have me or security with you. I have a lot of enemies, precious, but I won’t let them touch you. The escort is for your safety.”
“And to make sure I don’t leave.”
His answering grin was sharp and predatory. “If you leave me, precious, I’ll enjoy hunting you down.” She stayed quiet, not having a response for the unnerving glint in his eye. It was as if the idea of tracking her down excited him. “If you want to go out, let me or the guards know. A driver will be called for you.”
“I know how to drive.” she snapped.
“A driver will be called,” he repeated firmly. “You’ll have your own credit card attached to my account.”
“So you can monitor my purchases.”
“So I can provide for you.”
“But also so you can monitor my purchases.” He didn’t deny it. “What about my phone? My wallet? My apartment? My job?”
“It’s already been taken care of. I’ll give you back your phone once I can trust you with it. Your accounts have been closed, and the funds have already been placed into a joint account that your new credit card is attached to.”
“You can’t just do that.” She whispered, horrified by how quickly he’d erased her entire life- everything gone in the span of an afternoon.”You can’t just take everything.”
“We take care of our women in this family.” Hoseok shrugged, unaffected by her horror. “Your brother should have understood that, but he left you to fend for yourself. That won’t happen again- not while you’re with me.”
“And what if you get bored of me? What happens then?” She challenged, chin raised definitely despite the fact her knees were folded to her chest as she curled into the corner of the sofa.
His smile was slow and devastating, adoring in a way that made her want to vomit. He didn’t know her nearly well enough to look at her like that.
“I won’t get tired of you, but we’ll call it a trial period if it makes you feel better.” he shrugged. “You won’t do anything to put yourself in harm’s way, and I’ll do my best to woo you.”
“Woo me?” she scoffed, side-eyeing him as she debated his sanity for what felt like the millionth time that evening.
“Woo you” He agreed. “Like I was trying to do, but you very stubbornly ignored all of my attempts.” He shot her an accusatory glance.
“I didn’t want to see you.” Her scowl was met by an indulgent smile. “I want my own room.” She demanded, keeping the stubborn tilt of her chin as she stared at him down. He pouted, honest to god pouted, as she glared at him. “My own room. I’m not sharing a bed with you.”
“Fine,” he conceded. “You’ll have your own room. For now.”
“What happens if I’m not won over by your ‘wooing’? Do I get to go home?”
He smiled indulgently. “That won’t be necessary.”
“You have a lot of confidence for someone who had to kidnap a woman to get a date.”
He shrugged, leisurely, spreading his arms across the back of the sofa. “I wouldn’t have needed to resort to such tactics if you hadn’t been ignoring me.”
“What happens if I try to leave you?” she asked, as he relaxed head reclined onto the back of the sofa and eyes half-lidded.
“I already told you, precious.” he smiled lazily. “I’ll hunt you down and bring you home.”
“So I’m supposed to sit around all day and wait for you to want to play with me? Like a doll?”
“Of course not.” he waved a hand dismissively. “I already told you, you’ll be free to do whatever you want within reason.”
“Within reason?”
“Nothing that would put yourself in danger. Nothing that threatens the family. Things like that.” His hand made lazy circles in the air as he spoke, uninterested in her line of questioning as he rattled off the list of things that qualified as unreasonable.
“And what does ‘wooing’ me look like?”
That caught his attention. He sat up a little straighter, gaze once more fixed on her. “Oh, precious. I’m going to treat you like a princess.” He purred. “Dinners, dates, flowers, jewelry. Anything you want, it’s yours.”
“And if I don’t want it?”
“You’ll still be treated like the stubborn little princess you are.” She sat up a little straighter at that, the suggestive tone of his voice making her uneasy. “You might have forgotten, precious, but I remember every detail of that night together and how much you enjoy being treated like a princess.”
“Shut up.” she hissed, hackles raised at the implication.
“And of course we’ll have meals together here at home. My schedule varies, so it’ll change from day to day, but we’ll have at least one meal together. It’s good for couples.”
“We’re not a couple. You kidnapped me like a psychotic bastard.”
“Semantics.” She opened her mouth to argue, but Hoseok sat up fully, sharp eyes fixed on her. “We are a couple, precious, and as my woman, your only job is to pamper yourself. We take care of our women, and in return, we expect loyalty. I expect loyalty.”
“And what if I can’t give you that?”
The dead, shark-like quality came back to his eyes as soon as she finished speaking. His gaze was cold and calculating as though he was assessing an asset and not looking at a living breathing person. She certainly felt more like an asset than a person under that gaze.
“I don’t think you’d like the consequences of that very much, precious.” He started, speaking slowly so that every word washed over her with added weight. “I’m sure you knew some things about your brother’s business, and I’m sure you also know what disloyalty gets you.”
“What happened to your promises not to harm me?” she challenged, and his answering smile made her blood run cold.
“There are ways to punish disloyalty without causing you physical harm, precious.”
The words were flat, spoken without emotion as though the prospect of enacting those consequences didn’t even faze him. She doubted that it did. Kidnapping hadn’t.
He leaned closer, body shifting on the sofa to close some of the distance between them. “I said I wouldn’t hurt you, and I meant that. I still wouldn’t go testing boundaries if I were you though.” He leaned back again, his eyes raking over her form as he did. “Or do. Maybe you’d find the consequences exciting.”
“You’re disgusting.”
He shrugged, continuously unbothered by her ire.
“I’m a man who knows what he wants. Is it so wrong that I want you?”
“Yes.”
He sighed, rolling his neck and rising from the sofa. “You’ll come around eventually, precious, but for now it’s late. Let’s get you to bed.”
“My own bed.” She asserted firmly. “Not yours.”
“Your own bed.” He agreed begrudgingly, but it was an agreement none-the-less.
True to his word, Y/N didn’t want for anything. Everything she could possibly want was provided for her within the walls of the house. Her room was beautiful and fully stocked with everything she might ever think to need and them some. The contents of the closet alone were worth more than her car- let alone the collection of jewelry Hoseok had taken to giving her as a sign of his devotion.
When he’d said he meant to woo her, he had meant it. He treated her like a princess- a princess who was tucked behind the walls of a tower, but a princess none-the-less. Every action on his part was meant to convey the devotion he supposedly had towards her, and every day the adoring gleam in his eye seemed to get worse. No matter how prickly she was to him, he would smile and take it, throwing back barbs of his own as though it was a fun little game that they played and not an expression of her dislike of him.
Her first full day in the house had been interesting. There was minimal staff, and it was clear they had been given orders not to interact with her more than was necessary. She supposed Hoseok wanted her to rely on him more than anything, but it wasn’t the order itself that she had found so strange. Instead, it had been the staff’s reaction, not to her presence, but to Hoseok’s attitude towards her. The first time they’d shared a meal had been an accident. She’d ventured down the stairs to snoop and had promptly been greeted by a woman she assumed was Hoseok’s chef who had ushered her to the dining table for breakfast. Hoseok himself followed not too long after, greeting her with a tired kiss on the cheek despite her discomfort before taking his seat. The other woman had frozen at the action. It had been a momentary reaction, she’d quickly slipped a mask of professional grace into place before Hoseok could notice her staring, but Y/N had noticed.
While staff in the house was limited, everyone she had encountered had the same momentary shock whenever they saw Hoseok interact with her. He treated her softly, more so than even she anticipated. He treated her as though she were his beloved and cherished girlfriend, instead of a woman he had slept with once, stalked, and kidnapped off the street. It was irritating how little awareness he seemed to have that he had kept her hostage for three months. It was irritating how pleased he seemed by how well she’d integrated into the day to day life of his household. And she had integrated. There was nothing else to do.
Hoseok hadn’t been lying when he said he wouldn’t harm her, not physically at least, but her more reckless attempts at leaving had left her isolated and with nothing to fill the hours. He’d taken away simple privileges like going outside. He’d taken away access to the TV. He’d taken away her books. Deprivation and boredom had kept her in check. The more sweetly she cooperated, the more quickly Hoseok returned her privileges to her, but true to his word, he never physically harmed her.
His interest seemed to lie more in forcing her cooperation in his delusion. He had no interest in causing her distress, but he took great interest in her comfort and care. It was baffling to her how he could kidnap her and keep her against her will and yet treat her as the most precious item in his house. At times it seemed like he knew every detail about her, and he used that information to his full advantage. Despite lacking freedom and agency, he made sure her prison was designed to keep her content, and the longer she stayed trapped with him, the deeper he seemed to fall into the belief that they were fated for each other.
“Precious.” Hoseok murmured, coming up behind the chair she was lounging in with her book, leaning down to kiss her cheek, a habit he’d gotten into that she found more than a little irritating.
“Stop that.”
“How was your day?” He asked, completely ignoring her ire as he moved to face her.
“Does it actually matter?”
Y/N flipped to the next page of her book, steadfastly refusing to look at him knowing full well how sulky he got when she refused to play along and give him the attention he wanted.
“Of course it does. I always want to know how your day was, precious.”
“Why?” She asked, quirking a brow even though she still refused to look at him. ‘It’s not like my days have that much variation. Besides, if I so much as chip a nail someone is gonna report it back to you.”
An indulgent smile spread across his face. “I still want to hear it from you.”
She finally raised her head, looking him in the eye as he gazed at her, smile still playing across his lips. “I sat in this house. I read my book. I was told that trying to scale the walls was not approved behavior. Happy now?” she huffed, turning her attention back to her book without waiting for a response.
“I’m glad they told you. You could have hurt yourself.” He cooed, gently taking the book from her so that he could gather her hands into his- turning them over so that he could examine them for any injuries. “Who knows, you might have actually broken a nail if they hadn’t stopped you. Brick walls aren’t the most forgiving, darling.”
“And you know this from personal experience?”
He laughed softly, his eyes lighting up with fondness as he knelt in front of her. “I have my sources.” Gently, Hoseok lifted her hands, placing a light kiss against the scratched skin of her fingertips. “I wish you’d stop doing things that will get you hurt.” He sighed, taking note of each of the reddened tips of her fingers, and the scratches on her palms from where she had tried to see if the garden walls were scaleable. “I don’t like seeing you hurt, precious.”
“There’s a very simple solution you know.” He hummed, encouraging her to continue as he continued to take stock of the marks on her hands minimal as they were. “You could let me go.”
The soft smile that had played across his lips widened, spreading across his face until it was a full blown grin and a full-bellied laugh released itself.
“That’s funny, precious.” He breathed through the last few giggles. “Now what would you like to do for dinner, hmmm?” he asked, gazing at her
“Do I have to have dinner with you?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t care.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her palm before letting her hands fall back to her lap. “Go get dressed, precious. I’m going to take you out tonight.”
“Out to where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t want any surprises from you.”
“Too bad. Your dress is already laid out for you.” he hummed, rising to his full height. “Your shoes too.”
She scoffed, leaning to pick up her book but making no other move to get up. “Not interested.”
Hoseok plucked the book from her hands, tossing it aside much to her annoyance as her eyes flashed up to meet his.
“Oops.” Hoseok shrugged, keeping his tone pleasant and calm despite the dead look in his eyes. “I made it sound like a request, but I wasn’t asking, precious. Your dress and shoes are all laid out. Go get dressed. We’re going out.”
“How thoughtful. You’ve got it all figured out don’t you.” She hissed, remaining firmly in her chair, arms crossed under her bust. “But I don’t want to go on a date with you.”
“Consider it your consequence for trying to scale the walls.” He shrugged, reaching down to wrap a long fingered hand around her arm. “Up.” He commanded, pulling her to her feet as he did.
Her eyes narrowed, but she complied, allowing him to half pull her up as she unfolded herself from her armchair.
She’d gotten good at reading his mood over her time locked away in his house, and she knew him well enough at this point to know that she’d pushed his buttons enough for the moment. He never hurt her, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be just as petty as she could. He had his ways of making her pay for pushing his buttons even if they didn’t involve causing her any physical harm. Each time she chose to push him had become a careful dance. She could irritate him, rile him up, and he would play along, meeting her challenges with an almost gleeful spirit, but she could only press her luck so far. As soon as Hoseok showed signs of no longer being willing to play along, she would retreat, biding her time and her manners as best she could.
Hoseok guided her towards the stairs with a hand pressed to the small of her back. Flinching away from his touch now would do her no good even if she despised the heat of it seeping through her clothing and into her spine. For now, she needed to play along, or at the very least acquiesce to his whims until that cold dead look left his eyes again.
Hoseok walked her all the way to her bedroom, opening the door like a gentleman despite her knowing well that he was not. She thought he would leave her in peace to dress, but as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Hoseok sauntered over to her bed, lowering himself to take a seat beside the dress laid carefully out upon the covers.
“Pretty isn’t it?” He asked, running a finger across the silky fabric of the dress.
She stood still, watching him warily to see what his next move would be. He had made his desire for her clear, but he hadn’t pressed her boundaries more than she allowed since he had kidnapped her. She didn’t think that he was going to now, but she would rather be safe than sorry.
Hoseok lifted his gaze, expression softening as he took in the stiff set of her shoulders and the careful eye she regarded him with. “Don’t look so scared, precious.” He chuckled, gracefully standing and making his way to her.
His hands found her shoulders, caressing her arms as they slid down to grasp her own squeezing gently. “Go get dressed, while I pick out your jewelry.”
The words were spoken softly, but she saw it for what it was- a command.
Without a word, she stalked to the bed, sweeping the silky material up and making her way to the ensuite to change away from his watchful eyes.
As much as she disliked him, she had to admit that the wardrobe that he provided for her was beautiful. Each piece was as gorgeous as it was luxurious. This dress was no different. The fabric was soft and silken and a gorgeous shade of muted green. Black lace decorated the bust trailing into the small of her waist. It was beautiful, but so were all the other pieces of the wardrobe that Hoseok had provided for her. Unfortunately for her captor, she was not so easily moved by pretty things.
It took no time to slip into the slinky dress. Wrestling her hair into an appropriate updo took more time. Eventually, she was able to arrange it into a semblance of a french twist. It was a bit messy, with pieces spilling out to frame her face, but it was neat enough not to bother her in the long run. It would hold through the evening.
Next she set to work on her make-up. Hoseok had supplied her with all kinds of high end brands to use at her own discretion. Most days she chose not to use it at all. She rarely left the confines of the house as it left a bitter taste in her mouth to know that each time she stepped out with her loyal dog of a guard, her movements were reported back to Hoseok. It left an even worse taste to know that he could veto any outing she wished to take.
While he had professed freedom, each time she wished to step out of the house, it was swiftly reported back to him and if he did not approve of the outing she simply wasn’t allowed to go. It was demeaning-making her feel more like a child than she had when she was an actual teenager.
Since she rarely went anywhere since her kidnapping, she didn’t feel the need to doll herself up every day. Instead, she had taken to existing in the variety of loungewear that had been made available to her. Hoseok,though she loathed to admit it, had been thoughtful and thorough in his care of her. Once he noticed her preference for comfortable clothing, more and more of it had appeared in her closet, and he never complained about her lack of effort in her appearance. Instead, when he wanted her dolled up he did exactly as he had done tonight. He would lay out whatever it was he wanted her to wear, ensuring each detail of her appearance matched whatever activity he had in mind and was up to his standards.
Taking a fortifying breath after giving herself a last look over, she stepped back out of the bathroom, bare feet padding softly against the carpet. Hoseok was waiting for her, sitting on her bed as though he belonged there.
His eyes drifted to her as she made her way forward. A smile spread across his lips, eyes half-lidded as he took in the sight of her in the dress he’d chosen.
“You look beautiful, precious.” he purred, standing and moving to meet her halfway.
“I need you to zip me up.” she admitted, cheeks heating in embarrassment as she did. She would have done it herself- would have preferred to- but she couldn’t quite get a grasp on the delicate zipper located at the back of the dress.
“Of course.” Hoseok grinned as she turned to give him access to her back.
She did her best to suppress a shudder as his fingers brushed against the bare skin of her back as he slowly did up her zipper fixing her into the dress.
“Come. I have your jewelry all picked out.”
Silently, she trailed behind him as he led her into the walk-in closet and sat her down at the vanity there. The jewelry he’d chosen was laid out in a glass jewelry dish on the vanity. There was a variety of rings and bracelets laid out there along with a set of diamond earrings- large stones in an emerald cut that attached to a smaller round stone and a smaller emerald cut stone where the peg was placed.
“Beautiful.” He murmured, leaning down to place a kiss to her head as she began to fix the earrings into place.
“Stop that.” she huffed annoyed as she batted him away. “You’ll ruin my hair.”
He huffed a little himself. “If I ruin it, I’ll fix it for you.” He shrugged, reaching down to the jewelry tray to pick up one of the bracelets he’d chosen.
He picked up her left hand and began fixing the stack of bracelets into place.
“I can do that myself.” she snapped, trying to snatch back her hand, but Hoseok held her firmly in place paying no mind to her protests.
“Let me do it.” he snapped back,lithe fingers easily fixing the next bracelet into place.
He repeated the process until all four bracelets were fastened before he set to work on the rings.
“I think I know how to put on a ring.” she murmured as Hoseok lifted her hand again, slipping one of them into place.
“Just let me.” He huffed, annoyance bleeding through his tone at her continued resistance. “I have a vision.”
“Of course you do.”
She huffed again but didn’t protest further as he arranged the rings on her hands as he pleased until he was satisfied with her appearance.
After the last ring was in place, Hoseok released her hands allowing her to place them in her lap.
“Beautiful.” He murmured again, leaning down to place another kiss to the crown of her head.
“Would you stop that?” A quick hand darted up to bat him away.
Just as quickly, Hoseok's hands clasped around her wrist, bringing them down to her waist and keeping them pinned there as he leaned down to nuzzle into the crook of her neck.
“Would you prefer I kiss you here?” His tone was low and silken, seductive as he placed a kiss to the juncture of her jaw and throat. “You liked when I kissed you here before. Made such pretty noises for me.” She could feel him smirking against her skin as he spoke.
“Get off me.”
He placed another kiss to her throat but retreated just as she’d requested.
“I’ll go get ready. Wear the heels by the door.” he grinned, a bright sunny expression that she sourly thought shouldn’t be on the face of someone quite so vile.
She watched as he practically danced out of the room, deeply pleased with himself and his planning. He’d promised her dates, and as of yet, there had been very few occasions when Hoseok had taken her out of the house. Each of those rare times had been an outing to somewhere private, somewhere where she would be secluded from people who weren’t him or being paid by him.
She supposed she couldn’t blame him for that. If she had kidnapped someone she probably wouldn’t want them out in public too often either- too much risk of escape or discovery of the crime. Today he was oddly insistent about the whole affair. Normally if he wanted them to have dinner, it was within the confines of his home even if the dinner itself was fancier. There had been one or two nights when he’d dolled her up only for the occasion to be a candlelit dinner in the garden. She didn’t think that that was the case today though. He’d said he was taking her out, and she really did think he meant out. He’d been too meticulous in her presentation for her to think he meant anything else.
She noted sourly that there was no handbag allotted to her for the evening as she slipped on the pair of heels laid aside for her. There wasn’t any need for a handbag when there was nothing for her to carry. Hoseok had yet to return her phone to her. There was no wallet to place into a handbag either or anything for a wallet to even hold. She had access to a credit card as he’d promised her on that first night. It simply wasn’t within her keeping though. Either Hoseok paid for whatever she wanted himself or the credit card was left in the custody of her guard and pulled out for any purchases she may want to make.
She had to admit however begrudgingly that that was rather clever of him. It ensured that she didn’t have direct access to any funds. Even if she did manage to slip away from him and the guards, she would have no phone and no money to aid in her escape making it all that much harder. It was smart- irritating but smart.
If she’d had internet access and free use of a credit card she probably would have booked her escape to somewhere far far away and made a much more concentrated effort on slipping her guards. As it stood though she didn’t have access to either of those things. She supposed that her passport was also within Hoseok’s keeping. He’d been quite proud of himself for wrapping up her life previous to him in a neat little bow and tucking it away as though it no longer existed. She had to assume he had all of her important documents. They weren’t the type of thing you left behind if you were looking to keep someone by your side in the long term.
She tried not to think about that though. Thinking about just how thoroughly and cheerfully Hoseok had trapped her was depressing. Depression wasn’t something she could let herself sink into if she had any chance in hell of finding a way to get away from him. Her chances were slim enough as it was without giving into hopelessness.
“Are you ready, precious?” Hoseok asked, appearing in the doorway of her bedroom and startling her out of her thoughts.
She blinked slowly, trying to slow the racing of her heart as she settled after nearly jumping out of her skin. It didn’t help that Hoseok was looking at her with an infuriatingly amused smile as though he found the entire thing cute.
Y/N glared at him, looking him over from where he stood waiting for her. She was even more irritated to discover that he looked good- infuriatingly good. She wasn’t blind. She knew that Hoseok was an attractive man. It had been half the reason for this entire mess in the first place. If he hadn’t been handsome and charming and available they never would have had that disastrous one night stand in the first place, and he used that handsome face and charm as a weapon to try to breach her walls and ingratiate himself into her affection.
Tonight he looked especially handsome. His hair was done in dark waves and swept partially away from his forehead. The black pants clung deliciously to his long legs, and his button black button down was unbuttoned just enough to reveal the first few inches of his chest. If she didn’t know who he was, she probably would have blushed at the devastating smile he was shooting her way, but unfortunately she did know who he was, and all those good looks went to waste on account of the rotten personality within.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Y/N stomped past him, muttering as she went with him happily trailing behind her as she swept through the halls and down the staircase.
“Y/N precious!” he called as she stomped her way into the foyer calling her to a stop and allowing him to catch up to her, slipping his hand into hers and intertwining their fingers. “There.” he sighed in contentment. “Let’s go, precious.”
Y/N did her best to remain neutral as Hoseok pulled her out of the house and to the waiting car. On the few occasions she’d left the residence, she’d been driven in a nondescript black SUV with windows so tinted she could barely see out of it. This care was not that. It was sleek and black with two doors on either side. She didn’t have a good enough view to see what make and model the vehicle was, but she assumed it was expensive. It was a feeling that was confirmed as she slipped into the leather interior as Hoseok held the door for her.
“Where are we going?” Y/N asked, as he pulled out from the gates of the residence.
“I have someone I want you to meet.” There was something brewing in the way he said it, something vibrating just beneath the surface that she couldn’t quite place.
“Friend of yours?”
“More like a brother.”
She couldn’t stop the scoff that slipped past her lips. “Probably equally as horrible as you.”
“You love me, precious.” He shot her a sultry glance out of the corner of his eye. “I know you do.”
“Keep dreaming.”
The laugh that burst from him was full-bellied and joyous. Clearly his earlier ire had passed, and he was once again delighted by whatever barbs she chose to send his way.
“Precious, I dream of you every night.”
“Disgusting.”
The rest of the ride was spent in silence, Hoseok’s hand eventually drifting to rest heavy on her thigh as he drove. She’d attempted to remove it. Twice. Each time she brushed it off, he simply replaced it, his grip growing more firm each time she tried to remove him. After the third failed attempt, she’d simply chosen to accept it rather than picking a fight. She’d picked plenty of those recently and there was only so far she could push him before he snapped. She was waspish but not stupid.
The restaurant was beautiful, softly lit and quiet. Hoseok helped her from the car, and held the door open for her as they entered the restaurant like the gentleman he pretended to be, barely even glancing at the valet as he passed off his keys. All his attention was focused on her. It was a disconcerting habit of his.
Hoseok didn’t pay much attention to the hostess, confidently striding through the restaurant with a hand firmly placed against the small of her back.
“Don’t you need to be seated?”
“Private room, precious.” He murmured, leaning down with a conspiratorial grin.
She snorted. “Why? Scared I’ll start screaming in the middle of the room?”
“Go ahead, precious. No one will stop you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t say anything else. She didn’t doubt that she could scream her head off and no one would bat an eye, not while she was with him. If they did, they wouldn’t do anything. No one ever seemed to do anything against him. She’d raged those first few days. She’d kicked and screamed and tried to get the staff to look her in the eye, to help her, but none of it mattered. She’d given up on that after the first few weeks. No one would go against him.
“You like that don’t you?”
“Like what, darling?” he asked, as they approached the door of the private room.
“The power. Knowing that you can do anything you want, and no one is going to stop you.”
Hoseok grinned again- a hint of the devil in his eye. “It’s addicting.”
He opened the door, ushering her in before him. Already seated at the table was a man she’d never seen before- unsurprising as she didn’t really know much about Hoseok or his life outside of the walls of his home. The man stood, politely as they entered. His dark hair was long, swept away from his face. She admitted it was a handsome face, luminous with a pair of sharp dark eyes that seemed to cut through her in a second.
“Yoongi!” Hoseok cheered as he closed the door behind him. “Glad you could make it.”
“You called me here.” the other man replied dryly, retaking his seat as Y/N took her own. “I brought what you asked for. Is this her?”
“This is my precious, my Y/N.” Hoseok beamed, staring at her adoringly. “How’s Rosie? Is she good?” Hoseok rattled off questions, taking a sip of the water that had already been waiting for them on the table.
“Rose is fine.” the man nodded. “Recovering.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. We were all worried about her.”
Y/N looked between them, trying to keep up when she didn’t really know either man very well. “Who is Rosie?”
“My wife.” Yoongi replied, leaning back into his chair.
“She had a bit of a scare recently. Glad to know she’s doing better.” Hoseok nodded, draping an arm over the back of his chair lackadaisically. “We all love Rosie. You should have seen their wedding, precious. Yoongi here couldn’t stop smiling the whole day.”
“How long have you been married?” Y/N asked politely, grabbing her own water glass to take a sip.
“Two years.”
“Congratulations.” she murmured.
“How do you want to do this, Hob-ah.” Yoongi sighed, pulling out a folder she could only assume had whatever Hoseok had asked him to bring.
“Dinner first?” Hoseok suggested, fingers lazily gesturing through the air.
Yoongi shook his head, opening the folder. “Gotta get home to Rose.”
Hoseok nodded understandingly. “Signatures first then and dinner another day.”
“Signatures on what?”
Both men ignored her question as Yoongi started to pull out the papers carefully laid within the folder. “It’s pretty standard. The stipulations you asked for are all there as well.”
“Yoongi here is the family lawyer.” Hoseok explained, reaching to take the papers that had been handed to him, glancing over them casually.
Y/N peeked over trying to see just what kind of papers Hoseok had asked the other man to bring. He didn’t bring business around her usually.
The layout of the table itself put a stop to her snooping. The round table put them just far enough apart and the print was just small enough that it made it hard for her to catch a glance without leaning over into Hoseok’s lap, a position she definitely did not want to be in.
“It’s all in order. You both just need to sign.” Yoongi explained as Hoseok nodded along.
“Both?” Y/N asked, perking up as a knot formed in her stomach.
There wasn’t much that Hoseok would need her signature for. He’d dismantled her entire life without so much as a word to her. Why would he need her signature now?
Hoseok signed and initialed without so much as a second thought, passing the papers and the pen over to her with a bright smile.
“Sign here, precious.”
Y/N picked up the papers, reading through to see just what she would be signing before her eyes snapped up to Hoseok in shock.
“This is a marriage contract.” She whispered, staring at Hoseok with wide eyes. “Why is this a marriage contract?”
Hoseok reached across the table to grab her hand, smiling softly as he did. “It gives you security, precious. It ensures that you are protected legally.”
“You mean legally tied to you.”
Hoseok didn’t flinch at the accusation in her tone, continuing to smile at her adoringly. “You knew this was the plan, precious. I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”
“I don’t want to marry you!”
“Sign the papers, precious.”
“No.” She shook her head, moving as though to stand but Hoseok’s grip tightened keeping her in place.
“Don’t be stubborn, precious.” He murmured, dark eyes boring into hers as Yoongi watched them both carefully from across the table.
“Excellent proposal, Hob-ah. Very romantic.” Yoongi scoffed, crossing his arms as he waited to see how the situation would unfold.
Hoseok shot the other man a withering glare before turning his attention back to the woman before him.
“Precious.” He purred, doing his best to keep an even tone so as not to spook her even further. The color had drained from her face leaving her wan and ashen. “You know I love you. We’re fated. This just makes it official.”
“I don’t- I don’t want that.”
“Sign the papers, precious.”
“No.”
The word left her as a whisper, but even spoken softly it seemed to echo through the room.
“It’s not a choice, precious. You’re mine whether you sign the papers or not. You will be Mrs. Jung whether you sign or not. Make it easy, precious. Sign the papers.”
She shook her head, earrings swinging wildly as she did. “You can’t force me…”
“It’s not force.” Yoongi interrupted. “Whether you sign the papers or not doesn’t really matter. There are ways of getting your signature on them without you signing. It’s been done before.”
“That’s illegal.”
Yoongi shot her a flat look. “Which is why you should sign now. Don’t make extra work for everyone.”
“You can’t just…”
“I can.” Hoseok affirmed, a little frown marring his features. “Don’t I treat you well? Aren’t you happy?”
“You kidnapped me. You’ve held me hostage in that house.”
The frown disappeared, a slow calculating smile taking its place and lighting up his face. “And think of how much more freedom you’d have with my ring on your finger. We’d be so happy, precious.”
“I don’t want to marry you.”
“Of course you do or you will. You just haven’t come around to the idea yet. Always so stubborn.” He tutted with a fond smile.
She stared in horror at the papers laid out before her. From what the men were telling her, it mattered very little whether she actually agreed to sign them or not. Her signature would make its way onto those papers with or without her say so. This was a courtesy on their part. Hoseok could have had the papers forged and filed without her ever seeing them or knowing he’d done it, but he was in his own twisted way giving her a choice. She also now knew why her ring finger had been left suspiciously empty as Hoseok had bedecked her in jewelry. He had been planning to fill the gap in later.
“This is cruel.” She whispered, still making no move to pick up the pen laid in front of her.
“This is fate.” She stared at him, trying to figure out how he could say it with such surety because it was clear that he whole heartedly believed that, and he was certain that with enough time and coercion she would too. “Sign the papers, precious. Make the right choice.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” She demanded.
The walls seemed to be shrinking in on her as she sat under his scrutiny, the papers and the pen laying traitorously before her. It was one thing to be trapped with him. It was an entirely other thing to be legally bound to him. Legality was an axe hanging over her head. It made the probability of escape so much less likely.
There had been a hope that Hoseok would give up his delusional obsession with enough time.
If she didn’t fit the role he had imagined for her, he would let her go. Clearly, Hoseok didn’t have the same thought. Instead he’d presented her with a nail in the coffin. Men in these circles didn’t believe in divorce. They might not always be faithful to their wives, but divorce was never an option. She knew that well enough. This contract would quite literally bind her life to his for the rest of their days.
“Becuase I love you, sweetheart, and I want you to be my wife.”
“You’re insane.”
“Sign the papers.”
She shook her head, pulling her hand away from Hoseok to wrap her arms around herself. “You can’t do this. You can’t make me.”
Yoongi released a long-suffering sigh, leveling her with a stern look. “Your name is going to end up on those papers one way or another. It’s all been decided.”
Hoseok stood, slithering to stand behind her chair and bending so that his cheek was level with hers. “Sign the papers, precious.” His hands slid down from her shoulders to her arms, uncrossing them until his hands were over hers, their fingers intertwined. “Think of how much happier you’d be if you just gave in, if you agreed to be mine.”
Alarm bells sounded in her head.
Hoseok had made the entire ordeal about winning her over to his side. He wanted her consent for his obsession. He wanted her agreement. Signing this paper would give him that. It would open the door to everything that came after.
“I won’t do it.”
“Think of how much better things would be, precious. Think of how simple it would be to just be mine- the freedom you would have as Mrs. Jung.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You do.” he insisted, speaking directly into her ear. “You want freedom, darling. This paper will give you that.”
“That’s a lie.” She hissed, leaning away from him as much as she could. “You’re a liar. This is just another way to trap me.”
“Of course it is.” Hoseok cooed, nuzzling into her hair, loving the slight tremor that had overtaken her and the wide vulnerable look in her eye. He loved when she was fierce, but he loved it even more when she was soft for him. “I can’t have you running off, darling. You’re far too precious to me. This ensures that you’re mine no matter where you are- ensures you’ll always be brought back to me.”
“You’re sick.”
He smiled into her hair, grip loosening on her hands so he could pick up the pen. “I wouldn’t need legal assurances if you didn’t keep trying to scale the fucking walls.”
“Bastard.”
“Sign the papers, precious. Either you sign them yourself or Yoongi has them doctored. Either way, I win.”
He placed the pen in her hand, closing her fingers around it and backing away to give her room to sign.
Shakily, Y/N picked up the pen signing her name to the document despite the tremor making her signature messy and out of place next to Hoseok’s own quick and decisive signature. She didn’t doubt him when he said he’d have the paper forged. No matter what she chose to do, legally she’d be Mrs. Jung.
“Perfect.” Yoongi declared, taking the papers back from her once she’d signed and initialed all that was needed on the contract. “Now the certificate.”
He handed them the paper, and Hoseok signed without hesitation before handing the pen back to her where she signed again much to Hoseok’s delight.
“I’ll get these filed tomorrow. It was nice to meet you, precious.” He smiled for the first time that evening. “Welcome to the family.”
Y/N sat there shell shocked as he left, disbelieving of her own actions, disbelieving of the fact that she was legally Mrs. Jung Hoseok.
“We’re going to have the most beautiful wedding, darling.” Hoseok cooed, taking her hand in his to slip the final ring onto her finger. “And you’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”
Despite the state of shock that Y/N found herself in, Hoseok proceeded with the dinner as though it was a celebration and not her last meal. She supposed that to his mind it was a celebration. He’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted, and she’d walked away more powerless than before.
Hoseok prattled on about wedding details,and Y/N couldn’t pry her eyes away from the ring sitting very conspicuously on her left hand. The ruby set in the middle was large and dark. Set in an emerald cut, it demanded attention as a statement piece with two smaller baguette diamonds framing it on either side. It was a ring meant to draw notice, and it was distinctive enough that it would be recognized at a glance. It ensured that anyone in Hoseok’s circle would know who and what she was to him as soon as they saw it.
“Why?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, interrupting Hoseok’s musing on when would be the best time to hold the wedding.
“Why what, sweetheart?” He asked, tilting his head to the side inquisitively as he sipped his wine.
“Why did you do this to me? Wasn’t holding me hostage enough?”
The sigh he released was long-suffering in nature. “I don’t think you understand, darling. You’re mine. You were meant to be mine from that very first night, but you just can’t seem to realize that.” He shook his head sadly. “So stubborn.”
“I’m not yours.”
“You are.” he waved his hand breezily. “There’s no use fighting it, precious. This was always going to happen.”
Her gaze met his, eyes watery and red though she refused to let the tears fall. She didn’t want him to have that satisfaction. He’d taken enough from her for one night.
“Why now? What happened to wooing?”
He smiled indulgently at her. The expression was every bit as patronizing as the man who made it. “Y/N, my darling. My precious girl. You didn’t really think that your attempts to leave me would go unnoticed and unpunished? I already told you. Actions have consequences, and I wouldn’t need legal assurances if you simply stayed where you were supposed to.”
“It’s a cage.”
“You wouldn’t need a cage if you didn’t try to scale the walls, darling.” He shrugged. “Besides, there are worse things than marrying a man who adores you, and I do adore you, precious.”
“You barely even know me!”
“I know you very well, sweetheart. I know you haunt my every thought. I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“And what about what I want?”
He sighed again, leaning back and crossing his arms as he assessed her. She felt less like a woman he claimed to adore and more like a puzzle to be solved under his gaze, like the last three months had been nothing more than a game and he was trying to figure out how to make his end move.
“It won’t be so bad.” It was a soft assurance, a repeat of what he’d already told her. “And as for wooing you softly, that clearly hasn’t worked. You need a more firm approach.”
“Excuse me?” She bristled.
He leaned forward, dark eyes focused solely on her. “Trying to win you over softly hasn’t gotten us anywhere. You’re too stubborn, precious. So now we try things my way.”
“The last three months haven’t been your way?”
A spark of excitement lit his eyes, a gleeful smile accompanying it. “If I’d had my way from the beginning, you’d have never left my bed. If I’d had my way, you’d have woken up every day in my bed.”
She hissed, recoiling away from him. “Fucking bastard.” she spat, standing from the table.
Hoseok followed, standing from his own seat. “If I remember correctly, you liked it when we did things my way.”
“Don’t touch me.” she backed away as he approached, crowding her towards the wall.
“It’s all I’ve been craving for months.” he murmured, caging her in. “It’s time I treated you like my woman- fully. Enough games, precious.”
“It’s not a game. I despise you. You make my skin crawl.”
He hummed non-comitally. “I can make you feel lots of things, if you give me the chance.”
A resounding crack filled the space, and silence descended onto the room.
Hoseok’s head stayed turned to the side as Y/N stared at him in shock, her hand stinging from the impact.
Neither of them moved for a long moment.
Hoseok stayed eerily still as the handprint reddened across his cheek.
Y/N barely dared to breathe as she waited for his reaction. Never in her life had she raised her hand to someone before, not like this. She remembered playfights with her brother as a child, but she’d never purposefully struck someone before.
Slowly, Hoseok turned back to face her, his face devoid of emotion as he stared down at her.
“Hoseok…” she breathed, wide eyes meeting his dead stare.
“I didn’t realize you wanted to play rough, precious.” he exhaled, leaning in to breathe in the scent of jasmine wafting from her skin. His nose trailed along the column of her throat as he held her in place. “We can play rough if you want,” he chuckled, nipping at the delicate skin where her jaw met her neck. “but I think I can think of some other ways to celebrate that would be more fun.”
“No.”
“Mrs. Jung. Jung Y/N.” he purred, placing open-mouth kisses down her throat to her collarbone. “God, that sounds so fucking hot.”
“Get off.”
He groaned as her arm snaked up and around his neck, finding cruel purchase in his hair as she tried to yank him away from her. “The things you do to me, precious.” She yanked on his hair again, eliciting another groan. “Keep going, precious. Show me your rage.”
He pressed his hips against hers, pushing her up against the wall more firmly and causing her to still at the feel of the hardness against her hip. “I’ve been craving this for months.”
His hands snaked down, caressing her curves as they made their way behind her upper thighs, lifting her suddenly and forcing her to jump if she didn’t want to fall and bunching her skirt up around her thighs. With her legs wrapped around his hips, Hoseok took full advantage of their position to slip his hands beneath the bunched up fabric of her skirt, caressing her bare thighs as he ravaged her neck once more. “My patience has been hanging by a fucking thread.”
“You’re disgusting.”
He hummed, kissing his way but up towards her jaw. “You always smell so sweet- just like jasmine.”
“Pervert.”
“Mrs. Jung.” He sighed contentedly against her.
“I”ll scream.” She threatened as he sucked a mark into the place where her jaw and throat met each other.
“Good..” She yelped as he bit down more sharply. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
She snarled, digging her nails in as she tried again to push him away from her despite the instability of her position pressed up against the wall. “I want you.” He purred, sighing against her skin. “I want you so much is maddening. Just let me adore you, precious. Would that be so bad?”
She hissed as he pressed his hips into hers, nestling into the space between her thighs. “Aren’t you tired, precious? Aren’t you, lonely? Don’t you want to feel loved?”
“Not by you.”
“I’m all you’ve got, precious. Let me worship you.”
“I don’t need you to worship me.” A strangled sound tore from her throat as Hoseok rolled his hips against hers.
“I know.” he grinned, placing a kiss to her pulse point. “Let me do it anyway.”
“You’re the worst person I know.” she hissed, melting into his touch despite her own better judgement.
It had been so long since she’d been held like this- so long since she’d had anyone who wanted her the way that he did. She knew it was wrong. It was twisted in too many ways to even begin to untangle, but despite knowing that, she found a small part of her wanting to give in- wanting to be adored the way that Hoseok promised to adore her. Even if it was wrong, even if it was twisted, it had to be better than isolation.
“You’re the best thing in my life. My heart. My wife.”
“Stop it.”
“You don’t want me to.” He whispered against her lips.
“Despicable.”
And the worst part was, he was right. Despite everything, when he held her like this, when he looked at her with those eyes, he made her feel so… precious.
Soulmate AU
pairing - OT7 x reader , BTS x reader
word count - 13.8k+
summary - You are an up and coming author for M-Buzz; Manhattan, New York’s popular and new news source, set with the task of interviewing the globally famous band, BTS. You also have a bit of a glitch in your system. While everyone else has a set of initials and a birth date to signify who their soulmate is, you have a set of 14 letters and 21 numbers, something unheard of and rather stigmatized; and something that confuses you, that is, until you meet the men you’re interviewing.
warnings - cussing , eventual smut , MDNI , early writing (literal years ago) pls go gentle on me
P2 -
Alright, you’d be the first to admit that there were wonderful advantages to the job you’d landed three years ago. You spoke 3 languages fluently, which made you the go-to person for Korean and Japanese interviews with a language barrier. You could meet celebrities that other ordinary American interviewers couldn’t truly connect with on your level, while saving your company a few bucks they’d otherwise spend to book an actual translator.
Other interviews with the bands, actors, and high-profile socialites would be limited to watered-down conversations held with those celebrities and their translators. So, yeah, you’d pretty much been given the highly prestigious press title the moment your employer had seen the “fluently speaks 3 languages” bullet point on your resume.
“KPop and Japanese anime have blown up in America over the past few years!” She’d told you excitedly. “You’d be an amazing addition to our team.”
And so you had started working your ass off immediately. Currently, you have interviews with Hideo Kojima, Hayao Miyazaki, Hajime Isayama, EXO, and BLACKPINK on your belt. You were looked up to in your work environment because of your dedication to the interviewing process. Plus, your income kept you comfortable. You were happy, for the most part. However, at times, you felt complacent.
Sure, your job was amazing. Being able to speak 3 languages alone was a feat in and of itself, but at the end of the day, you felt lacking. Your social life had dwindled, something your family had been worried about since the second month of your working career, and although you thought it a nonissue at first, the loneliness built until it was something you could hardly stand to endure, but it was also inescapable.
You didn’t have the initials and birthdate of your soulmate etched in black ink on your left wrist, as everyone did at birth; instead, you had 14 letters and 28 numbers. The long sequence of characters had earned you confused looks from doctors at your yearly check-ups and a lack of social life. You’d had them memorised by heart.
K.S.M.Y.J.H.K.N.P.J.K.T.J.J The stutter in the last two letters irked you to no end. And the numbers were a complete mind-fuck.
12.4.92.3.9.93.2.18.94.9.12.94.10.13.95.12.30.95.9.1.97. What any of it meant was a fucking mystery to you and everyone around you. You were an enigma.
It wasn’t an existence you were keen on, and you know that it was a huge chunk of your family’s worrying. But you’d accepted long ago that you weren’t going to have a soulmate, that you’d either have to find someone else who was as misfortunate as you, or just settle with being alone save for one-offs and porn. It wasn’t like you weren’t living damn close to those truths now.
You can still vaguely hear your mother chastising you for having such a full schedule. “You’ll never find your soulmate if the only thing you care about is your work,” she’d told you, thinking the overabundance of black on your wrist was a clerical error, and your lesser-than history of romance was a result of you not looking for them hard enough. It took everything in you not to break down at her harsh words, but you mustered a weak, “I’ve found them already, Mom, my work is my soulmate,” and left her townhouse. That was 6 months ago, and you’d not seen her since. You still stuck by your words, because even if you were lonely, you were beyond appreciative for the job you had, soulmate be damned.
But sometimes the loneliness was deafening, and it left a question ringing in your head like a church bell. Was the writing really worth it?
Friends from college couldn’t keep up with your hectic lifestyle of needing to be ready to board a plane at any given moment for an immediate press conference or high-profile interview your boss had scored you. You couldn’t have a pet out of fear of never being home to care for it, and your family couldn’t pause holidays because you’d have a layover flight that day.
So, long story short, yes, your job was amazing and had definitely provided you with some of the best moments of your life (it’s not every day that you get to ask Hideo Kojima about Death Stranding,) but it’d also enhanced the evergrowing emptiness of your solitude, and piled on your shoulders round-the-clock work hours.
“Y/N! Thank god you’re here,” your co-worker, Elle, greets you. She’d been the one person you could rely on the most since your first day. She’s a pretty girl, a few years younger than you, her colorful pencil skirts and chiffon button-ups always brightening your day as soon as you walk into the office.
“Good morning to you, too, Elle.” You tell her, shocked when she quite literally hugs the breath out of your body. “What’s gotten into you this morning?” You ask her, stepping back to look into her eyes.
“I had a few too many cups of coffee…” She smirks, “But, you’ll be proud of me! I got your interview with BLACKPINK edited, and it’ll be fresh on the press and on YouTube within the next few hours or so.”
“That’s great! Thanks, Elle. You do need to be careful with your caffeine intake this early in the morning, though. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”
She cringes at the reminder, vividly recalling the day she’d forgotten to eat and passed out when she’d gotten a papercut opening her Secret Santa gift. It’d cost her a week’s pay in medical bills once she’d been released from the hospital with a few stitches she’d scored from landing on her face in the office’s rec room.
“Point taken,” she grimaces.
You chuckle, nudging her shoulder as you work your way into your office, Elle on your toes the whole time. Your focus drifts as she tells you about her late night and early morning, because this is routine for the two of you now. You’re both free to chat amongst yourselves if you’ve finished your current assignments, something you’re grateful for, until your boss either emails you or makes her way into your office to assign you your next task.
“Y/N?” Elle asks you, dragging your jaded attention from the swirling of the hot chocolate she’s readied on your desk, back to her face.
“Huh?” You ask drowsily.
“I said, did you hear that the Bangtan Boys are going to do a mini-tour around Seoul, Daegu, and Busan before they go on a break?” She says, exasperated by your lack of interest in her earlier monologues.
“I actually hadn’t heard of that, yet.” You reply lightly, interest piqued, “is anyone from our office covering the tour yet? I know Andrew speaks some Korean, albeit not as fluently as I do.”
“I haven’t heard anything in the office yet,” she answers. “But, that leads to the question, er, well, favor I have to ask of you.”
You eye her questioningly, already cautious.
“It’s just, I know that you’re sometimes allowed to bring a tagalong when there’s big stories like this to cover, so I don’t know… I was wondering if maybe I could be your plus-one if you get the story?”
“Ugh, Elle, you know we don’t really get to choose the stand-in reporters for those trips,” you groan.
“Andrew told me that when he’s been given big stories that he always takes Cam with him,” she whines. “And I’ve never been out of the country, let alone the continent. It’d be an amazing opportunity for me to be able to leave New York for once.”
She pleads at you with her eyes, full pink lips puckered and trembling.
“If- and I mean if,” you emphasize, seeing how her pout turns into a near-blinding smile, “if I get the story, because honestly, we don’t even know if there is one; then I might consider asking Mrs. Powell if you can assist me as a co-writer.”
“Yes!” Elle shrieks, jumping up and down, chiffon bouncing and blonde hair waving across the room wildly. “I knew I could count on you! God, you’re so awesome.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you huff, checking your email. “Powell wants me to write a follow-up on the BLACKPINK interview, so I’m going to start on that. I’ll find you around lunch so we can discuss what I summarize,” you tell her, “oh, and Elle?” You say, stopping her in the doorway of your office before she leaves. “Remind me to kick Andrew’s ass later for being such a mushroom.”
Elle laughs, stepping out of your office with a skip in her step.
You didn’t exactly hate Andrew, but you trusted him about as far as you could throw him. He was ruthless in his interviewing and even more so in his everyday life. Beyond that, you guys had the same working position, prospective head reporter for M-Buzz, an up-and-coming Manhattan news source, and both you and Andrew wanted the head reporting position that only one of you would get.
Four hours, three cups of coffee, and two bathroom trips later, the follow-up is written; the 4,000 words glaring at you from the computer screen. You type in Powell’s email address and hit send, letting out a sigh as you watch the check mark change from grey to green.
Your mind, the persistent bastard, decides to wander back towards the dreaded soulmate topic, and although you weren’t too keen on staying in the mindset, you can’t shake it.
At 21 years old, you’d never met another individual with a lack of ‘the signature,’ as most Americans referred to it. You’d moved cross country a multitude of times, studying various current events that arose, and interviewing until your mind was numb, but you’d not once encountered anyone with the same blank canvas that your wrist housed.
You’d seen the way some people would glance at your wrist, nosy tendencies flaring, and then the way they’d raise their brows in shock, looking to you like you were some sort of circus animal. The pity in their eyes was acidic and made you want to vomit.
You’d also have witnessed the irritation that would swell in your chest when you saw people treating their soulmates poorly, or ignoring their existence altogether.
Cam and Elle could deny it all they wanted, but they were, in fact, soulmates. No amount of repression and cold insolence would change fate. They couldn’t deny their cosmic attraction forever, just like you couldn’t deny your cosmic solitude.
There’s a small knock on your door, and then Elle is peeking her wide-eyed face through a crack, looking sorry for interrupting your train of thought.
“Mrs. Powell just asked for you and Andrew to go to her office,” she tells you.
“Wonderful,” you quip, standing up and straightening your pencil skirt, not at all excited at the uncomfortable situation you’d be in once you entered your boss’s office.
“I really think it’s about BTS…” Elle says shyly, walking alongside you towards the elevator.
“It most likely is. She’s probably going to have us kill each other for the story.”
“You were always a scrapper,” your friend jokes.
“Don’t give me too much credit, Elle. I grew up in Washington. The closest thing to a fight I’ve been in was trying to squeeze into a bus with ten other people during a rainstorm.”
“I’ve seen how you get when you want a position,” she tells you as the elevator doors start to slide shut, “you’ll knock 'em dead.”
Her face disappears behind the metal panels, and the elevator rises.
You could go for the job, yank it out from under Andrew’s nose, and enjoy Seoul, you hadn’t been to before, and you did very much enjoy traveling. Or you could simply stay home and watch Friends reruns, edit another reporter’s papers, and drink champagne. You could buy some Ben and Jerry’s and take some sick days, go to a spa, and just relax.
The latter wasn’t you, though. You were driven, adventurous, and properly bored with New York. You needed a change of scenery, even if it were only for a few weeks, and if you could take Elle, that’d only make Seoul more enjoyable.
With your mind set, and the doors to the elevator opening upon arrival to the thirtieth floor, you step out and walk with purpose towards the office marked “Powell.”
“Thanks for finally joining us, Y/N,” Andrew mutters as soon as you’ve stepped foot into the room.
“Nice to see you, too, Andrew.” You smile, masking irritation with friendly courtesy.
“Cool it, Klein,” Powell huffs, eyeing Andrew coldly. “Go ahead and have a seat, Y/N,” she motions towards the chair opposite where she’s sitting at her desk, and you take it, avoiding the glare Andrew sends your way as you sit to his left.
“I’m sure you’ve both been bombarded with notifications throughout the day about the ‘Persona’ tour taking place in South Korea later this month?” She asks, smiling, when you both nod. “Great, well, I had Margaret over on the tech floor set us up with better alerting algorithms last month, and they’ve worked magic for us today. We managed to book a two-person reporting gig for the entirety of the tour-”
“You’re sending me with Y/N? Doesn’t that seem a little redundant, given we’re both going for the same job?” Andrew groans, running his hand over his pointed face.
“Let me finish, Andrew,” Powell snaps, “I was going to say that you guys could pick who, amongst yourselves, would go with an apprentice, but given your outburst, I am choosing to send Y/N. We’re sending a reporter to interview the band and review the tour, not fight amongst coworkers.”
You hold back a laugh, shocked that you’d gotten the job without having to lift a finger.“But- I didn’t mean to”
“But you did,” Powell states dryly. “And now Y/N will be going to Korea for three weeks while you continue covering the President’s tweets.”
That, you do laugh at. “At least you’ll have a lot of content,” you joke.
Andrew huffs, grabs his coffee from the end table between your chairs, and leaves the room swiftly, jaw locked and scowl present.
“So,” Powell shifts her gaze from the slightly slammed office door to your still-shocked expression, “your trip is pretty much all set up, you leave in three days, and the tour starts in five. The hotels will be paid for, of course, I just need to know who you’d like to bring along with you and whether you’ll be needing a spare room or just one with two beds when we book your stays.”
“Oh, just one room will be fine,” you tell her, “I’ll bring Elle along with me, she does a spectacular job of helping to revise my articles already.”
“Sounds great, I’ll just let HR know who’s being sent and fill out some paperwork, and you guys should be set. Your first interview with BTS will be the night you land, so you’ll have to get situated in the hotel quickly. From there on, I’ll continue emailing and calling with updates and schedules. Pretty smooth sailing, all and all.”
“Just how I like it,” you smile, shaking her offered hand and leaving the room.
You don’t expect Andrew to be waiting for you at the elevator, but there he is, in all of his angry-man glory; face red and temper very obviously still flaring.
“Andrew, I really don’t thi--”
“No, you listen here,” he stops you, voice low and threatening. “I’ve worked my fucking ass off to be where I am today and I will not have my career ruined by some up-and-coming 20 year old floozy. You hear me?” He shouts, finger waving in your face as sweat beads on his forehead.
“I don’t understand why you even-”
“I don’t care if you don’t understand! My point is, watch your fucking back and stay the hell out of my way.” He spits, pushing past you and towards the stairs on the opposite side of the hallway.
What the fuck?
“He said what?” Elle asks, shoving another forkful of ramen into her mouth.
“The man’s fucking insane,” you tell her, twisting your own noodles with your fork, “it’s not like I targeted him as soon as I walked into the office! I literally just sat there and listened. Didn’t have to utter a peep.”
“I can’t believe he called you a floozy. Is he stuck in the ’60s?” She mocks. “Listen, I know you’re upset, and after a situation like that, no one can blame you… But, Y/N, look on the bright side. We’re going to have so much fun in South Korea. I can’t thank you enough for letting me come with you. I really can’t.”
“Buy me lunch once a week for the next two months and we’ll call it even,” you joke.
“Deal,” Elle replies instantly. “You’re the only person I know who will eat noodles every day with me and not get tired of them.”
“It’s good food,” you reply, “people are just ungrateful.”
It’s almost as if you’ve blinked and you’re getting off the plane in Seoul. The last few days passed by in a blur as you and Elle attended a few meetings, going over company policies and general rules of thumb. No sexually explicit questions, no touching the interviewee, be on time for the interviews, dress appropriately, etc.
“It’s colorful here,” Elle exhales, stepping to your side as you wait for a taxi. “Kind of exhilarating.”
“It’s pretty breathtaking,” you agree, smiling at a taxi driver who finally acknowledges the two of you and pulls to the curb. You give him the hotel address once he’s situated your luggage in the trunk, and you rest your back against the leather interior as the car begins to weave through traffic.
“Where do you wanna go first?” Elle asks after nearly half an hour of silence, “We could go to a local restaurant? Cam told me about a few places he’s been to that have completely ruined American cuisine for him.”
“Well, first we have an interview.” You placate her, “food, after. Maybe we could walk the streets later and sightsee?”
“Mmm, fair enough.” Elle smiles. “Thank you, Y/N. No, I really mean it,” she says, shrugging off the interjection that’s ready to roll off your tongue. “I know people usually say thank you just to serve their own egos, but I really mean it. You’re a good friend, and I appreciate that.”
You blush, not quite knowing how to respond.
“We’re going to have a great time,” Elle adds, filling the silence, “this will be the best work trip either of us has ever been on, I swear it.”
“Alright, you’re getting sappy,” you chuckle, nudging her shoulder. “Save it for when we reflect on the trip a few months down the line, huh?”
“You’re not very emotive, are you?” She jokes.
“Hey, I can be emotional. I just choose not to act on my emotions in front of other people. I promise you, inside- very deep inside my body, my psyche is curled in the fetal position and crying from just how you’ve moved me.”
“Shut up,” she scoffs, shoving you lightly. Her eyes light up as she glances out of the passenger window from her back seat. “Is that it?”
You follow her gaze to the gargantuan building ahead of the taxi, and your mouth gapes. “That’s it…” You breathe, completely taken aback by how luxurious the hotel looked.
“Wow…”
“You can say that again.”
You pay the taxi driver and bow, thanking him in Korean. Elle is already out of the small vehicle, pulling her luggage out of the trunk with a few grunts. You couldn’t hold off your work forever, despite how nervous you were growing. You could do this. You knew you could. Turning to the nearest bellhop and signaling him over, you begin to pull your suitcase out of the trunk.
“We have roughly 2 hours before we’re supposed to be downtown to meet with BTS for the interview,” you tell her. “So that gives us an hour to get ready. Powell said Big Hit offered a driver to us during the tour.”
“A driver? But we’re interviewing them, not the other way around,” she replies, following you and the bellhop as he escorts you to the front desk inside the massive building to retrieve your key.
“I guess they really appreciate American media covering them,” you tell her, “maybe they’re considering another U.S tour sooner rather than later,” you shrug.
“Your keys, Miss L/N.” The bellhop tells you, handing you the golden objects on a ring. Room #901, that’d put you pretty high up.
“Thank you,” you tell him, smiling widely. “Would you be able to lead the way and get our bags up there? We’re on a time crunch,” you tell him in his native tongue. He nods his agreement and grabs a silver luggage cart from behind the front desk.
You’re shocked that M-Buzz has put you and Elle on the top floor, not quite expecting the obvious pampering.
“This is just so exciting!” Elle chirps, nearly scaring the poor bellhop. You offered him an apology for her outburst and huff. “I mean, the top floor? Cam has never mentioned being treated to a top-floor suite.”
“It’s not what I figured we’d be getting, that’s for sure.” You mumble, “Maybe there’s some sort of catch? An extra 50,000-word write-up? Deducted pay?”
“Oh, give M-Buzz some credit, Y/N.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, I do, and I’m not complaining in the slightest. I just didn’t expect it. We’re only going to be in Seoul for a week or so anyway. We have two other major cities to go to after.”
“You have a point,” Elle agrees, “but I don’t think they’d dock our pay. The write-up seems more realistic. But you have gifted fingers, it’ll be a breeze for you.”
“Magic fingers?” You question her, cheeks blazing.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Y/N. Everyone around the office calls you Magic Fingers because of how quickly you can pull a five-star article out of your ass.”
You send her a pointed glare, this time verbally apologizing to the bellhop for her crudeness. You only had ten floors to ascend, and then you’d be free from the claustrophobic confines of the elevator and the awkward social setting looming inside of it.
“I just write whatever pops into my head, I don’t overthink it…” You explain, feeling completely self-conscious, breathing out a sigh of relief when the elevator doors finally open, revealing a large hallway with only one door on either wall.
“Penthouse 901,” the bellhop announces, shoving the key into the lock and pushing the door open for you and Elle.
“Holy crap,” Elle squeaks.
“Thank you,” you tell the bellhop, handing him a 10,000 won tip, hoping it’ll cover the cost for Elle’s loose lips. He bows and exits the room, leaving you and Elle to gape at the extravagant room alone.
“This is kind of amazing,” you whisper, eyeing the white marble floors and granite countertops in the massive kitchen.
“Kind of amazing? It’s fucking incredible, Y/N,” Elle corrects you. “They even sent us a bottle of champagne.”
“For a reporting job?” You wonder aloud, still not quite grasping the intricacy of the penthouse you were situated in.
“Who knows?” Elle answers, “I’m not complaining.”
You shake the slight unease you feel, and start to unpack your belongings, makeup bag, and toothbrush, some of the first things you grasp. “I’m going to find a bathroom in this castle and get ready. You should do the same,” you chide, pulling your hair into a loose ponytail.
“Meet you back here in an hour?” Elle shouts, already at the opposite end of the mini-mansion.
“Sounds good!” You holler, pushing open a door and gasping at the bedroom in front of you. Satin sheets, dark maroon walls, wall-length mirrors, and a massive television screen glaring at you with purpose. “Wow,” you whisper, openly admiring the intricacy of the carpet and bedding. “Later, Y/N,” you order yourself, refocusing your whirling mind on getting ready for the interview mere hours ahead of you.
You had drafted a multitude of questions for said interview while on the flight, thankful that Elle had drifted asleep for the entire duration you were in the air. God knows you would’ve gotten nothing done had your coworker been awake.
Aside from clothing and a tad bit of makeup, you were ready. Beyond ready, in fact. So why were nerves still prickling at the back of your psyche and rendering you a shaking mess right now?
You want to break down and have a good cry, but you know that’ll serve you no good. You have a job to do here, and you weren’t going to let M-Buzz and Elle down. Maybe if you did a great job you’d have more extravagant trips to look forward to, Elle included.
You splash your face with water from the connecting bathroom, and look at your face in the mirror. Nerves definitely had done their work on you, your pupils were still slightly dilated from your strange near-panic attack and you had cold sweats.
Thankfully, you had packed your favorite lavender body oil, which always seemed to soothe your anxiety when huge work or life obstacles such as this clouded your mind. A pat of the scented liquid against your throat and wrists, a natural makeup look completed with a mauve lip, and your new black pencil skirt paired with your pastel pink blouse and a high bun had you feeling rejuvenated and even excited for the interview. You didn’t even trip once in your nude Miu Miu heels on your way from your bedroom to the living room.
Elle waited, as she said she would, in the entryway of the luxurious penthouse. “I thought you said Powell was going to hook us up with a one-bedroom?”
“She did,” you tell her, “can you please not use the phrase ‘hook us up with’ in a sentence, please?” You groan. “It sounds like you’re talking about us fucking the room.”
“You are especially frisky today, Y/N what’s gotten into you?” She asks, wiggling her brows suggestively.
“Nothing has gotten into me, Elle,” you huff, “I’m just excited to do the interview, that’s all. I wanna bring up astrology signs and stuff,” you explain, “it’s going to be fun!”
“For you,” Elle quips, leading you out of the room and into the elevator. “Not everyone is as involved with astrology as you are, you know.”
“I’m not involved with astrology,” you huff, “readers like to learn this stuff about their celebrity crushes. It’s not far-fetched,” you grumble.
“I’m just teasing you,” she laughs, nudging you. “I’m sure the interview will be fun. I know you were brainstorming our questions and topics the entire flight.”
“Wha-”
“You type loud,” she shrugs. “It’s good to be prepared, don’t be embarrassed.”
You want to argue with her for the sake of your ego, but you know she was right. She’d embarrassed you, not necessarily a hard feat for her, given how well she’d come to know you.
“Powell wants me to try and interview them in mainly English, but she said that if I think it’s easier to do it in Korean, that would work, too.” You tell Elle, kicking at the elevator floor as it continues its slow descent. “I don’t like it when she leaves me to make the big decisions.”
“Oh, Y/N. You always do this.” Elle groans, rubbing her hand against her face.
“Do what?” You ask, slightly defensive.
“Psych yourself out before the interviews you do. You second-guess everything, and then the second we walk into the interviewing room, you completely shift. It’s like you were never worried in the first place, you just… go with the flow?” She explains, “it makes the worrying you do beforehand incredibly frustrating. Especially knowing how confident and driven you are outside of interviews and work.”
“I’m sorry…” You say, sad that you’d made her even an inkling upset.
“Don’t be, it’s very you. I’m not frustrated you experience it, just frustrated you don’t seem to credit yourself enough on how spectacular of a job you do all in all. And as far as the English or Korean topic goes, the guys have been learning more English from what I’ve learned, so they might surprise you and make the decision for you.”
“I appreciate that,” you tell her, because truthfully, you do. “I’ll try my best not to be a mope the rest of the tour, I swear!” You hold out your pinky, grateful that she doesn’t leave you hanging as you lock in your promise.
The elevator finally dings, and the two of you step out, crossing the lobby quickly and hopping into the black SUV that waits outside of the hotel with your name in the passenger window. The driver greets you, quickly explaining his job at Big Hit, which literally consists of driving interviewers and members of Big Hit to and from locations during tours and press conferences.
“We appreciate you driving us,” you tell him in Korean, leaning towards the front seats so you can see him better, and noting his slight blush and the creases that form at the corners of his eyes as he takes your compliment.
“We will be arriving at the Big Hit building in ten minutes,” he tells you, “it’s a pretty short drive.”
“That’s great. We’ll make it on time, then.” You smile, repeating his statement in English for Elle as she watches the night scenery flitter by her outside of her window.
“Do you think they’ll be as beautiful as they are on screen in person?” Elle asks.
“More than likely,” you answer her, “but we aren’t here to pine over them. You’ve got a soulmate back home to worry about,” you chastise her.
“Yeah, but you don’t.” She replies dryly after a few minutes pass, “and I am still single, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you wave her off, “you and Cam have both made that abundantly clear.”
“Shut up,” she mumbles, pulling her cardigan tighter around her body while she sulks. “It’d be weird if we got together.”
“Why?” You ask her, interest piqued, “Because you work together? Don’t give me that.”
“No, because I dated his brother in high school.”
You were not expecting that. Whatsoever.
“You dated his brother?” You ask incredulously.
“Yes, his brother. Adam.” She snaps. “Didn’t end all too well.”
“I’m sorry, Elle,” you tell her honestly, “I didn’t know. If I did, I wouldn’t joke about it.”
“It’s okay, there are reasons Cam and I don’t bring it up.” She shrugs. “Oh, look!” She points, and you follow her finger, seeing the mostly-glass-constructed building that’s lit up down the expansive driveway you’ve turned onto.
“That’s a lot of windows.”
“Nice assessment.” Elle laughs.
“Thanks. It was exhausting to make.” You joke back, pulling your notebook you kept with you during interviews, out of your purse.
“I can’t believe we’re going to meet them,” Elle smiles, “I’ve been listening to them since 2 Cool 4 Skool was released.”
“I listened to Wings when it was released, but aside from that, research is my extent of BTS knowledge.” You tell her.
“Wait, what?” She asks, taken aback.
“I just kinda stopped listening to music and paying it any attention after my dad passed away in high school.” You shrug. “They released that in my senior year, so I gave it a listen. It was good, but I don’t know. I didn’t want to listen to music like I did when my dad was around, I guess.”
The car comes to a stop before Elle can reply, and your driver steps out to open your door. You bow, thanking him and heading towards the Big Hit worker who waits for you and Elle at the front door to the Big Hit establishment.
“Y/N?” The young woman asks.
“That is me.” You answer kindly, shaking her offered hand.
“The boys are waiting for you and your co-writer in the main room. I am Mai, and I will be guiding you there and staying on hand for any questions you may have during the interview.” She tells you.
“That’s wonderful! Thank you.” You answer her, following her and signaling for Elle to do the same as she leads you over the threshold and into the marvelous entryway of the building.
“This way,” she directs you, stepping down a small flight of stairs and into a ridiculously well-lit room, every piece of furniture and decor white, save for the three chairs and two sofas that are burgundy.
You can feel sets of eyes on you as you enter the room, but you wait until you’re sat in the lounge chair that Mai directs you to stand in front of to raise your chin and look the boys in the eyes.
To say they’re gorgeous is quite possibly a disservice to them. They’re ethereal, otherworldly.
“Hello,” you address them, your voice surprisingly steady given your inward disarray from simply looking at them. “My name is Y/N L/N, I’m a reporter from M-Buzz, an up-and-coming news source in Manhattan, New York.”
Some of the boys are glancing at you with confused expressions on their faces, and you can swear that two of them look at you with complete shock and bewilderment. You save yourself a lengthy self-analysis and repeat your introduction to them in Korean.
“Woah! Are you fluent in Korean?” One with a giant smile, black hair, a yellow Gucci crewneck, and an exuberant voice asks you.
“Hoseok, we haven’t even introduced ourselves,” another rebukes the man who must be Hoseok, his voice a velvety, rich sound that nearly has you blushing.
“I’m so sorry!” Hoseok rushes, bowing to you, “My name is Jung Hoseok, or JHope! It’s nice to meet you.”
You smile gently at him, “It’s nice to meet you, too, Hoseok.”
“I’m Kim Namjoon, or RM,” the one with the rich voice tells you, bowing as Hoseok did. He’s very well defined and the tallest of the bunch. His lips are drawn up in a smile, but you can tell that they’re shapely. You absentmindedly notice his hands, the size of them, and the muscles that shift in his arms as he plays with his hands in his lap.
“Don’t keep her all to yourselves,” another voice rings out. You glance at the owner of the new voice, pleased with what you see, though you’d never say that aloud. His lips are full, eyes bright, and hair a butterscotch blond. “I’m Kim Seokjin, but ARMY calls me Jin, or Worldwide Handsome.”
You smile, returning his bow.
“I’m Kim Taehyung!” A man with a bandana tied across his forehead to keep back his chocolate brown hair smiles, eyes bright and boxy-smile infectious. “ARMY calls me V.”
“I’m Jeon Jungkook!” The muscular figure next to Taehyung introduces himself, his smile wide and cheeks flushed as you shift your gaze to him. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He smiles even wider, a feat you thought impossible.
“I’m Park Jimin!” The next introduces himself, his smile sweet, but something lying beneath his eyes tells you that sweet is something he can be far from. His hair is a light pastel pink, his eyes crinkle as he smiles at you, bowing. You recognize that he’d been one of the men to look at you in shock.
You look to the last figure, sensing his eyes still on you. They are. He looks to you with the same expression Jimin had prior to the introductions, eyes serious as they take you in. “Min Yoongi,” he says simply, nodding his head towards you.
You smile at him, slightly uncomfortable with the way he and Jimin seem to be fixated on you.
“It’s nice to meet all of you. This is my co-writer, Elle.” You motion towards your protege. “She doesn’t speak Korean.” You explain.
“Ah,” Namjoon speaks up, “they aren’t all fluent in speaking English yet, but they’ve been practicing and understand most of it. We can do the interview in English and then translate what needs to be translated into Korean. If that works?”
“That’s great!” You answer him, breaking into English to explain the conversation to Elle. You smile when the guys all introduce themselves to her in English. The beginning of the interview goes about how all interviews ever go.
The cameras are set up, you redo your introductions, and you ask the basic questions. Favorite colors, favorite songs on their current album, favorite songs of theirs in general, celeb crushes, etc.
You’re excited when the first thirty minutes pass and the interview opens up to the part you’re most hyped for. Astrology. This had been fun to come up with.
“So, for this next part of the interview, I’d like for us to talk about our astrology signs in order from oldest to youngest. The fans are really excited about this.”
“Dinosaur Jin!” Taehyung shouts, earning guffaws of laughter from everyone but Jin.
“You won’t be laughing when you’re 26 and exhausted,” he pouts.
“So, Jin-hyung is the oldest. When’s your birthday?” You ask, preparing your notepad.
“December 4, 1992.” He tells you, and your brain momentarily comes to a stop. 12.4.92 plays on a loop in your mind. “That makes you a Sagittarius,” you tell him, “your sign is an archer! Your element is fire, your birthstone is topaz, and your ruling planet is Jupiter, the biggest one.”
“As it should be.” He quips, wiggling his eyebrows at his bandmates.
“Who’s next?” You ask, nerves building.
“Suga!” and “Yoongi” are immediately shouted out, and the man in question tears his eyes from you to look at his members.
“Huh?” He asks.
“You weren’t paying attention again, hyung! You have to tell Y/N when your birthday is,” Mai interjects from her director’s chair.
“Oh, sorry.” Yoongi mumbles, turning back to face you, gaze heated. “My birthday is March 9, 1993.”
You freeze, more of the code on your mind ringing in your ears. 3.9.93.
“That makes you, uh…” You trail off, thinking. “Pisces! That’s it. Yeah, your sign is two koi, your element is water, your birthstone is amethyst, and your ruling planet is Neptune!”
“Cool,” he answers emotionlessly, still gazing at you, looking nothing short of perplexed.
“Next?” You call.
“Hoseok!” Namjoon tells you, looking at his friend proudly.
“My birthday is February 18, 1994! I think I was already told that I’m an Aquarius!” He explains happily.
You’d love to reply with enthusiasm, but the numbers are rolling in your mind, and now you’re tying the letters into them as well. Jin’s birthday was the first set of numbers on your wrist, but his initials were S.K? Wait, no. If you used Korean, as you should, his initials were K.S.
Your feet lift you out of your seat and out of the building without a second thought, and you race for the car, already asking the driver to take you back to your hotel immediately. He looks concerned, but acquiesces, pulling out of the driveway swiftly. In your haste, you’d left your notebook and Elle, but you’d shoot her a text or call her once you got back to the penthouse. You’d needed to do some research and figure out if you were right on this.
Because there was no way in hell that BTS, in its entirety, was your soulmate(s).
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Kim Seokjin. December 4, 1992. The name and birthdate correspond perfectly with the first set of initials and date. You could chalk it up to coincidence, but looking more into it had your heart threatening to leap from your throat.
Min Yoongi. M.Y. The second set of initials, another match. March 9, 1993. Another flutter rose in your chest.
Jung Hoseok. J.H. February 18, 1994.
Kim Namjoon. K.N. September 12, 1994.
Park Jimin. P.J. October 13, 1995.
Kim Taehyung. K.T. December 30, 1995.
And Jeon Jungkook. J.J. The stutter at the end of your frustratingly long list of numbers. September 1, 1997.
You’d need a massive bottle of vodka to wash down the events of this evening. The Big Hit driver, Shei, you’d learned his name on the drive back to the hotel, had asked you numerous times what was happening. You couldn’t blame him; you’d essentially shoved him back into the SUV and ordered him to take you back to the hotel as if your life depended on it.
He didn’t hesitate; you’d figured that wasn’t in his code of conduct. He obliged immediately, peeling out of the Big Hit Entertainment driveway without a care to give.
He did want answers, as any person under the amount of stress and complete confusion you’d forced onto his shoulders would be. But how were you supposed to explain that during the most pivotal and important interview in your career to date, you’d discovered and found that not only did you have a soulmate, you had seven! And to make a confusing situation even more confusing, all of your soulmates made up one of the most sensational boy groups ever? Shei would probably make a U-turn on the freeway and take you to a psychiatrist, which, now that you think about it, could be helpful.
“You left me!” Elle shouts through the phone, “I had to wing the rest of the interview, and the boys all got really quiet after we finished the astrology skit!”
“Wait- finished it? How?” You question her, momentarily forgetting about the inner soliloquy.
“You left your notebook in your chair! I told them about your horoscope and then mine.” She huffs. “That’s not what matters, though! Don’t try and get me sidetracked. You left me alone, and I didn’t know what to do! I just listed out your questions like a robot!”
“You told them my horoscope?” You choke out, breathing becoming more difficult with each passing second, she doesn’t answer.
“What the fuck, Y/N? Weren’t you going to? The notes said to compare and contrast our horoscopes with theirs!”
You mentally slap yourself, angry with yourself that you’d forgotten your notebook and that you hadn’t prepped Elle better, for her own sake, before the interview.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear…” You sigh. “I just… I had to come back to the hotel.”
“Why?” Elle argues, and you feel the bitter pang of guilt well in your chest. She’d never spoken to you so harshly, and what hurts more is that you know she’s not in the wrong. You were unprofessional. “What was so important that you left me and BTS hanging? You know, we’re going to have to speak to HR about this?”
Fuck. You really didn’t think your actions through at all.
“I can speak to HR,” you reassure her. “There’s no excuse for leaving the interview like that. I know that much. I just- I don’t know! Have you ever had a fight or flight instinct kick in?”
“What? No?” Elle answers. “I don’t understand what that has to do wi-”
“I had to leave, Elle.” You explain, exhaustion and jet lag sinking in and catching up with you. “I just-I went into a weird shock and I needed to leave.”
Elle remains silent for a few minutes, and you almost check the call to make sure she hasn’t hung up on you. “Okay…” she sighs.
“Thank you-”
“No, no, no. Don’t shove the thank you’s onto me right now. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, still. I’m not completely stupid or oblivious, Y/N.” You can hear her grimace through the phone line. “I saw the way that the guys froze up when I told them your birthday.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“And I know for a fact that Yoongi and Jimin looked at you like you’d shocked them with tasers when you gave them your name!”
“Elle-”
“No! Don’t ‘Elle,’ me. Explain to me what’s going on!”
You grip the phone tightly against your ear, afraid to say what you know is most likely the truth. The words are about to slip out of your mouth, but a sob emerges instead, shocking you and most likely scaring Elle.
“I just- there’s so much going on and I don’t know what to do.” You stammer out, shaking on the loveseat you’re curled into. “I can’t even begin to tell you what’s going through my mind right now.”
“Holy shit, it’s that bad? Did one of them hurt you?” She asks, and you can vaguely hear her asking, no, more like ordering, someone to drive her to the hotel.
“No!” You shout, “No! They didn’t hurt me. I’ve never met any of them before.”
“You swear?” She asks, voice slightly wobbly with worry.
“I swear on my life,” you reply instantly. “It’s just way too much to explain over the phone, can’t I just tell you when you get back?”
She hesitantly obliges, but forces you into staying on the line with her until she gets off the hotel elevator onto your floor. You can tell she’s been worrying her ass off when she walks into the living room of the penthouse, eyes wide, pupils dilated and breathing labored.
“Now,” she breathes loudly, “care to explain what the actual hell is going on?”
You scooch over, patting the cushion next to you, and Elle sits down, gaze worrying at your teary eyes and confused face.
You bite your bottom lip, wondering if showing her would be easier than explaining. You know she’d seen the lengthy piece of ink on your wrist before at work, but you’d explained to her that you were just an error in the universe’s system. Certainly, no one in existence, even someone with the largest imagination, would deduce that you had seven famous soulmates.
“Just- look.” You breathe out, deciding on ‘fuck it,’ and shoving your armsleeve up to your elbow. You twist your wrist, giving Elle a very clear view of the long list of numbers and letters. She takes her time, eyeing all of the black print before looking at you, still confused.
“Kim Seokjin,” you point towards the first set of initials, “born on December 4, 1992.” You point to the corresponding date. She knits her brows together, refocusing on the puzzle on your arm.
“Min Yoongi,” you point again, “March 9, 1993.”
“Jung Hoseok,” she whispers in awe. “Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook… Holy shit.”
“And now you see my dilemma.” You conclude, cocooning further into the giant hoodie you’d shrugged into once you got back to the suite. “I always thought that this,” you wave your left arm around dramatically, “was just a sign that I was pretty much condemned to isolation. But, nope! I’ve got seven fucking soulmates and they’re all ridiculously famous. How the hell is any of that supposed to work?”
“Wait,” Elle stops your monologue, “does this mean that they’re all each other’s soulmates? Or is it just your initials and birthdate on their wrists? Or…” she starts, “maybe nothing of yours is on their wrists.”
“Well-”
“No! Because Jimin and Yoongi looked like two fish out of water when you told them your name, and the rest of them looked the same after I’d told them your birthday.” She explains.
“So we can assume that my initials are on their arms?” You question aloud. “I don’t know if I want to jump to that conclusion yet.” You huff, “This all just seems so… ridiculous? I don’t understand how I’d end up with BTS as my soulmate, or is it soulmates? I didn’t think you could even have more than one!”
“It’s not unheard of,” Elle tells you. “My great-grandmother had both her first husband’s and second husband’s initials and birthdates.”
“Yeah, but those are two people,” you say, remembering when she’d told you of her great-grandmother. It’d been on a work trip some months back, if you remember correctly. “I have seven people tattooed across my wrist. And I didn’t plan on marrying seven times.”
“Maybe you don’t have to.” Elle reasons, “We don’t know how their relationship works. We don’t know if they’re just working together or if they’re something more. We don’t know how many initials they have on their arms. They cover them with makeup before every public appearance they make.”
“I guess you’re right…” You grumble. “I just don’t understand. Why me?” You ask no one in particular.
“Maybe you’ve got enough moxie for seven guys,” Elle jokes, nudging you playfully. “C’mon, Y/N. You’re hot! A complete catch. Why shouldn’t you have seven devastatingly attractive men pining for your affections?”
You roll your eyes, groaning at the thought of seven fully grown men trying to get your attention. “It’s a headache waiting to happen,” you tell her, rubbing your temples.
Both of you jump when Elle’s phone rings. You look at her, confusion running amok through your mind. She shrugs, answering the call with a smooth ‘hello.’
“Oh! Hi!” Elle chirps, mouthing ‘Big Hit’ to you. “Ah, that’s so generous of them!” She smiles, “Yes, of course. Nerves can get to anyone,” she points a glance at you. “Tomorrow? That works!” Pause. “Thank you so much, I can’t express how much we appreciate this opportunity.”
She taps off the call, turning to you immediately with a blinding smile.
“The boys worked their magic and have told Big Hit not to file a complaint over your work manners,” she laughs, “and they’d like to meet up again tomorrow for a rerun. At a restaurant they’re having rented out!” She squeals.
“They’re renting out a restaurant?” You cough out, completely taken aback. “And they stopped a formal complaint from being filed?”
“They’re your knights in shining Gucci tuxedos.” Elle laughs.
“Not funny…” You snap. “That’s too much to expect from them…” you sigh.
“You didn’t expect anything,” Elle reasons, “they’re being nice, and honestly? They might be trying to break the ice.”
“What ice?” You groan, offended at her cliché wording.
“You know, the awkwardness that today probably blew up like a helium balloon. You did literally sprint out of the interview after Hoseok mentioned being an Aquarius.”
You blush crimson at the reminder, “Thanks for that.”
“Hey, you’re the one who turned into Usain Bolt during an astrology reading. Not me.”
“Fuck off!” You shout, throwing a couch pillow at her and hitting her directly in the face.
“Uncalled for,” she whines, hitting you back with it. “You have to go see them.”
“No, I don’t!” You argue, “I have options. I could flee the country, or the continent! Go home, pack my little townhouse, and move to Alaska.”
“Alaska?” Elle asks, exasperated. “Really?”
“It’s far enough away.” You shrug.
“Don’t pull this! You should at least meet with them and see what they think of everything. I’m sure they’re as confused as you are.” Elle chides.
“Fine!” You shout, standing from the couch and heading for your bedroom, “but don’t be shocked if I’m in a shitty mood in the morning!”
You hear her laughing as you seclude yourself into your room, the events from the day rendering you beyond exhausted. You let out a big sigh, climbing into your bed and under the covers. You’d be meeting up with the boys for the second time within 24 hours tomorrow.
You honestly couldn’t tell whether you were excited at the nearing reunion, or completely fucking terrified.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You bolt straight up, cold sweat dripping off your body. You’re confused initially, remembering very vividly how you were drowning a second ago. It takes a few minutes for your body and mind to adjust, the realization that you were dreaming slowly resounding in your mind, slowing your breathing, and calming your racing heartbeat. Your fingers loosen their vice-like hold on the silken sheets beneath your trembling body.
You were in Seoul, and you’d landed, you glance at the clock on the bedside table, roughly 7 hours ago. The number ‘7’ lights up in bold script behind your eyelids. 7 soulmates. BTS.
Your mind whirls through the damn near delusional happenings of the day before, trying to piece together some sort of explanation or resolution to your dilemma, but you come up empty handed. You scoop your phone off the bedside table, immediately opening ‘Google’ and typing in what you assume you should type given your… predicament.
‘What does it mean to have more than one soulmate?’ glares at you, the brightness of the phone screen only adding to the discomfort you feel when researching such a topic at 5 AM. You turn the blinding graphics down, making a sound you can only compare to a car engine failing to start, as the only search results that pop up are for people who have anywhere from 2-4 sets of initials and birthdates.
Okay, having 4 was probably frightening, too. You couldn’t be too harsh on Google or the human race for not having dealt with your specific situation. 7 soulmates? You’d never even considered the possibility of such a pairing.
The same questions Elle had the night before race through your mind as you sit in the hotel bed, at 5 AM, in Seoul, alone.
What if they didn’t have your initials on their arms? What if not all of them had your initials on their arms? What if they were going to make you choose between them?
You felt sick. Sick to your stomach. Not wanting to soil the expensive bed sheets in your room, you rush to the connected bathroom, kneeling pitifully in front of the toilet and emptying your stomach into the porcelain bowl and water below.
You rest against the cool tile of the floor once the heaving has stopped, hair sticking to your forehead, and your head aching. You reach lamely for a courtesy bathrobe that’s tied to the bathroom door, wrapping it around you like a blanket, and use a pile of hand towels as a makeshift pillow, before falling asleep on the bathroom floor.
“Are you okay?” Elle shakes you awake, her blond hair pulled into a ponytail, and eyes wide and worried as she looks at you.
“M’fine.” You grumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Just had a bad dream.”
“So you fell asleep in the bathroom?” She asks you, confused.
“No, I felt sick when I remembered what happened last night…” You breathe out.
“Ah,” Elle sighs, “yeah, I can’t imagine what’s going through your head right now.”
“Too much,” you answer her, slowly sitting up.
“I’ll make you some breakfast!” She chirps. “That gives you time to get ready for the meeting with the boys later!”
“Shit, I almost forgot about that. Why’d you have to remind me?” You groan, standing up and grabbing your toothbrush.
“You need to at least talk to them, Y/N. They saved our asses from possible suspension at work and they clearly want to speak to you about the whole… situation.” She mumbles. “Plus, maybe they’ll tell you some stuff we can use in our articles.”
“Tell me?” You question her, toothpaste spilling out of your mouth and onto your pajamas. “You’re going with me!”
“Uh, no. I’m not.” Elle shrugs at your shocked expression, “I don’t need to be there, and frankly I shouldn’t be there. They asked to meet with you, they didn’t ask for me by name as well; and there’s some pretty, er, intimate things they might want to ask you.”
“What?!” You choke, the toothbrush falling from between your lips and into the sink.
“I don’t mean it like that,” she laughs. “Although that’d make for an interesting read.” She jokes, “I mean, they might want to get to know you personally. Me being there would make things incredibly awkward.”
“Can’t you at least wait for me close by? You could be my savior if I need to get out of there quickly…” You explain, spitting your toothpaste into the sink and rinsing your mouth.
She looks ready to protest, but you silence her by placing your hand over her mouth. “I brought you on this trip with me, Elle. Not as a coworker, but as a friend. It’d mean more to me than I could possibly begin to explain if you’d be on standby for me while I’m talking to them.”
She rolls her eyes at you, but nods her head in agreement. “You owe me, big time.” She scoffs, “Now take a shower, and I’ll make you some breakfast.”
The woman is true to her word. Once you’re out of the shower, smelling fresh, and dressed decently enough (a cream colored sweater and a new pair of jeans you bought before the trip), she places a massive plate of waffles in front of you.
“Eat.” She orders, sitting next to you at the kitchen bar, and digging into her own plate.
“I’m nervous,” you explain, poking at your food, but taking a large bite when she eyes you.
“I don’t blame you at all. Just try not to hyperfocus. Their wanting to meet with you and helping us avoid trouble yesterday speaks volumes. They more than likely just want to talk. Nothing extreme.”
You nod at her reasoning, thankful that she’s there to at least try and keep you level-headed.
“I’ll be just a few blocks down,” Elle tells you, the Big Hit driver, Shei, had put up the partition in the SUV, allowing the two of you what little privacy you could have.
“Thank you,” you tell her earnestly, meeting her friendly gaze.
“You’ll be fine,” she reassures you, “they’re really nice guys from what I saw last night.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I feel so stupid.” You groan, curling in on yourself in embarrassment.
“So you don’t want to hear about how worried they were when you split?” She asks you. You peek through the sleeve of your hoodie, interest rising. “Ah, looks like I’ll have to explain later.” She smiles, “We’re here.”
You drift your gaze out the window, noting the bodyguards and Big Hit employees trying to blend in with the outside world. The restaurant, as previously discussed, has clearly been rented out. Upon seeing the SUV, one of the Big Hit employees, a woman you haven’t met, sends a signal to Shei. He seems to understand immediately and turns into a nearby alleyway. It takes you a moment to realize that you’d be entering through the back of the eatery.
“I feel like a sack of drug paraphernalia.” You mope, getting unbuckled and ready to squirm your way out of your seat. You turn to Elle, nerves bubbling. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m done here.” You tell her, meaning every word.
“Sure, sure. Just get in there before a fan sees you and bombards you.” She laughs, nudging you out of the door that Shei has opened for you.
“Thanks,” you mumble to him, allowing another employee to lead you through the back door. The restaurant itself smells absolutely amazing, you couldn’t even begin to fathom how amazing the food would taste once it touches your taste buds. A few kitchen workers bow to you, and you return the kind gesture, feeling extremely out of place in the pristine kitchen.
Soon enough, tile floors turn to wooden panels, and you look up to meet some of the eyes you’d run from the night before. Namjoon’s gaze is gentle on you, Jin’s is approving, taking in your figure as you stand before him. Taehyung and Jungkook are too busy playing some sort of napkin game they’ve created to acknowledge your entrance. Hoseok waves enthusiastically, a massive grin split across his bright face.
Jimin, beautiful as ever, smiles his eye-crinkling smile that has your stomach doing cartwheels within the confines of your body. Yoongi’s eyes are serious on yours, hands fidgeting atop the table they sit at; his hair is hidden beneath a beanie that makes him look more boyish than he did yesterday.
“Er- hi.” You say awkwardly, waving slightly at the men once you stand in front of their table.
“Ah!” Jungkook jumps, dropping the napkin-ball once your voice hits his ears.
“Ha!” Taehyung whoops, jumping in his seat excitedly, “you lost, Kookie!”
“Can’t you two be normal for once?” Jin asks, shaking his head disapprovingly, but affectionately, at the two youngest members.
“That’s a ridiculous request, hyung.” Jimin smiles, nudging Jungkook lightly. “Besides, weren’t you playing table football with Kookie and V last week?”
Jin blushes a rosy red, clearly embarrassed he’d been outed.
“It’s okay,” you rush to reassure him, not quite understanding your sudden need to alleviate his discomfort, “I still play Nintendogs on my DS.”
Jin raises his eyebrows at you, along with most of the members, save for Yoongi, who still looks at you with a nervous expression.
“Isn’t that the game where you can have a Shiba?” Taehyung smiles, “I’ve always wanted one.”
“That’s the one,” you reply, feeling your own embarrassment flare up as the ridiculously attractive men all keep their gazes on you.
“My friends in school would play those games all of the time,” Jimin smiles, pulling a chair at the head of the table out for you before returning to his seat. “Do you like to play games, Y/N?” He smiles a toothy smile, and if you weren’t a reporter whose life consisted of reading subliminal messages, you wouldn’t have caught the sensual innuendo beyond the question.
“Jimin-ah, let’s not talk about games right now,” Yoongi speaks up, flickering his impassive glance from you, to Jimin, to you again.
“Yoongi is right,” Namjoon nods. “We were worried last night that you wouldn’t show up.” He explains as you take your seat, keeping your hands in your lap so you don’t fidget too much or too obviously. “Some of us were worried we’d scared you off before we’d even had the chance to properly introduce ourselves. It’s safe to say we’re relieved you’re here.”
You smile, somewhat consoled, knowing that they’d been nervous, too.
“Is there anything you’d like to eat?” Jin asks, “We’ve ordered 8 servings of rice and vegetable stir-fry already. The chef said it’d be a half hour or so.”
“Rice and stir-fry sounds great,” you answer him, “could I get a cup of water?” You ask, your throat feeling dry from your ebbing nerves.
Jin nods his head and goes to retrieve a pitcher of water and some glasses from the kitchen. He pours your drink gingerly, long fingers holding the pitcher with exceptional care.
“From your exit during the interview, we’re assuming you know why we invited you?” Namjoon asks, eyes kindly analyzing your posture.
“I, uh- yeah. I assume it’s about this…” You lift your left hand atop the table and push back the cream-colored fabric, revealing the numbers and letters that haunted you your entire life.
Two of the three maknaes smile once they eye the black ink on your wrist. Taehyung and Jimin looked to be far more comfortable in the situation than Jungkook, who still resembled a deer caught in the headlights.
Hoseok makes a noise similar to a pelican, rounding the table and showing you his wrist. The letters and numbers are all the same as yours, save for one. Where you had his initials and birthdate, he had yours.
“Show her,” Hoseok chastises his team, waiting for them all to mimic his actions.
They do. You’re shocked as you realize with finality that you had 7 soulmates, and so did they.
Whereas most people had another half, or third, and rarely a fourth, of their soul waiting for them inside someone else, you and the seven men in front of you had each other.
“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting you,” Taehyung smiles, hugging you to him.
“Taehyung-ah, give her a minute.” Jin orders.
You’re thankful he does. You weren’t disappointed in the men huddled around your dining chair, far from it, in fact. You did, however, feel the room closing in on you.
“I just need a second…” You explain, rising to your feet, “Excuse me.” You bow to them, excusing yourself to the bathroom.
Hardly recognizing the pale woman who stares back at you in the mirror, you douse your face with cold water from the sink, appreciating the relief it provides your heated and muted skin. You give yourself a while, not wanting to overexert your emotions and head back into the room quite yet.
The air is cooler in the bathroom, anyway, and easier for you to breathe. You pull your phone from your back pocket, ready to text Elle and ask her to pick you up, but you glance at yourself in the mirror again, seeing the way that color is returning to your face and your breathing has regulated itself. You could do this.
Shoving your phone back in the confines of your jeans, you push the bathroom door open. The boys wait for you at the table, all of them quiet and anticipating your return. Taehyung catches your eye, his expression regretful and dejected.
“I’m sorry I hugged you like that,” he tells you, voice radiating his honesty like a heater, “I just got so excited to finally know that you were real.” He explains, “The thought of you being uncomfortable didn’t occur to me. I’m so used to having the hyungs around, and being able to express everything that I forgot you didn’t have any of us to express yourself to growing up.”
“It’s okay, Taehyung,” you tell him, meaning the words from the bottom of your heart. “I just get very anxious when new things blindside me.”
He smiles at your acceptance of his apology, boxy features warming your heart.
“So, how long have you all known about this?” You ask, pointing to your wrist.
“Since we banded together,” Namjoon answers. “It’s actually one of the main reasons we decided to debut.” He shrugs, “When I met Yoongi-hyung at a BigHit meeting and he saw my wrist, it was like I wasn’t alone anymore.”
Yoongi smiles a gummy smile, looking at Namjoon. “I felt the same way,” he agrees, “growing up was difficult. I was ashamed of my marks and hid them. I thought they meant I’d never have a successful relationship. But when I saw Joon at the meeting, and he had his sleeves rolled up without a care to give… I just saw my initials and the rest we share, and I didn’t feel empty anymore. There was someone I could connect to.”
“And then Hoseok showed up, loud and energetic,” Namjoon laughs. The man in question smiles, blush creeping its way onto his face. “We were both shocked,” he signals to Yoongi. “The chances of us meeting each other were slim enough, but a third showing up? It was crazy.”
“You guys would have been lost without me,” Hoseok groans, “you’re both so messy.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, and Namjoon laughs. “Once Jin signed on, we kind of just let the rest play out. Figured that if luck stayed on our side, we wouldn’t need to look for ourselves.” Namjoon explains. “It was pretty smooth sailing for a while. Jungkook signed on, and then V. Jimin was last.” Jimin smiles at the mention of his name. “We only had one more person to wait for.”
“After ‘Wings’ was released, we kind of lost hope,” Jin adds. “We thought maybe you weren’t real. We’d met people with your initials, but when we asked when their birthdays were, we got nothing.”
You nod your head, “I grew up in Washington, went to college in California, and then moved to New York for work.” You tell them, grateful that they provide you with their undivided attention. “You know where I work, so there’s no need to explain that. There’s actually not much to explain, really. I move around a lot for reporting gigs, so I don’t have time for friends and stuff.”
They look saddened by that, and your heart pangs in response. “It’s okay,” you reassure, “my life has been full of amazing experiences and opportunities because of my work.”
“It sounds like it’s held you back, too…” Jungkook says, voice heavy with concern.
“Only socially.” You reply, “I have a decent home and enough money to keep me going.”
“Have you dated?” Jimin asks.
“Jimin-ah!” Jin scolds him, flicking his forehead.
“It’s okay!” You tell him, “It’s a fair question. I haven’t seriously dated anyone. I’ve casually dated, though.” You explain. “Once it turns towards serious conversations and ‘what are we’s,’ I book it.”
Jimin thinks over your answer, enamored by the casual way you gave it.
“If we had known, we would have reached out,” Namjoon confesses, turning the conversation back towards the elephant in the room.
“If anything, I’m to blame,” you laugh. “You guys are globally famous, your names are everywhere, so are your birth dates. If I had paid more attention, we might have met sooner…” You trail off.
“Don’t blame yourself!” Hoseok consoles you, eyes unwavering as they convey his sincerity to you. “We’re meeting each other now, and that’s good enough for us.”
You smile at his reassurance, appreciating how wholesome and bright he truly is with finality.
“Thank you, Hoseok.” You tell him gently.
He nearly transforms into the heart-eye emoji at you saying his name, his features softening immensely and leaving a dopey grin on his face. Jimin pats Hoseok’s shoulder, shining his crinkly-eyed smile at the older man.
“How are you feeling about all of this?” Yoongi asks, big brown eyes looking at yours with concern, the first discernible emotion you’ve seen on him since entering the room. It nearly knocks the wind out of you. The softness of his face mixed with the molten emotion beyond his eyes renders you wordless.
“Erm-” you gape. “I, uh- I’m definitely still shocked, but I feel more at ease now,” you manage to push the words out of your mouth. “It’s way more comforting knowing that I’m not just a glitch in the system.”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“I always thought that I was meant to be alone,” you shrug.
“But you have the mark,” he cocks his head, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“Yeah, but I’ve never seen someone with my extent of it.” You explain, “typically people have one or two initials and birth dates on their wrist. I have seven. I figured that maybe I was just a reject.”
He looks saddened by your explanation, “Well, you’re not.”
“Yeah, Y/N! You’re not alone.” Jimin smiles.
“You have us,” Taehyung adds, putting an arm around Jimin and Jungkook each.
“I also live in America,” you remind them, sipping at the water Jin had poured you earlier. “I can’t just leave my job and my home to come to Korea.”
“Would you ever be open to the idea?” Namjoon asks.
You sit on the question for a minute, deliberating in your mind the pros and cons. The cons were intimidating. You would have to leave the job you worked so hard for, you’d leave behind your family, you’d leave behind Elle, and you’d be starting all over on a new continent. The pros, however… You could rebuild, make a new family because you weren’t around your biological family much anyway, you could still visit Elle and FaceTime her every day…
But you were getting ahead of yourself.
“I might consider it some day,” you answer Namjoon, noting the relief that fills every single member’s eyes. “But that’d be down the road a ways,” you add, “it’s not something I could just do at the drop of a hat.”
The men nod, understanding and appreciating your answer. You don’t bother asking them the same, you know their love for their country and the people in it. It was visceral, unwavering, and stronger than any fan-artist connection you’d seen, ever. It’d be selfish to ask them to leave their livelihoods. They could still make music in America, but the emotions behind the music? The reason for making it? The heart of BTS would always remain in Korea.
“We have another question to ask,” Jimin speaks up. You look at him and nod, giving him the go-ahead. “Well, you see, we were wondering if any of the initials on your wrist look different to you? Like maybe one seems thicker or darker?” He asks.
You furrow your brows, confused, but raise your left sleeve again and really look at the bold lettering. The food arrives as you examine your wrist, the waiter delicately placing your meal on the table in front of you.
Sure enough, a lettered pairing does stick out from the rest. You’re at a complete loss as to why you hadn’t noticed it before. You’d spent hours upon hours of your life glaring at the ink. How were you only just realizing the imperfection permanently etched atop your skin now that Jimin mentioned it?
“Yeah…” You breathe out, looking at Jimin's waiting gaze. “I’ve never noticed it before.”
“It’s pretty microscopic,” Namjoon explains. “It’s only really noticeable once someone addresses it.”
“That’s strange…” You murmur, looking back at your wrist. The letters only seem to have grown bolder, nearly looking italicised now that more time has passed. “It looks more bold now…” You explain, meeting the eyes of the man the bulkier text belongs to.
He looks back at you, eyes softening as they look into yours.
“Are mine thicker for you?” You ask him.
“They are.” He replies.
“What does it mean?” You ask Namjoon.
“Well, we hunted down a woman in Daegu, she calls herself a ‘reader.’ She was pretty difficult to find, but Big Hit helped us. She specializes in the marks, has books upon books on them. She told us that there have only been a handful of cases like ours,” he tells you, “and that the bold initials are present every time. She said that the bold initials signify the strongest bond within the soulmates. For me, my strongest bond is with Hoseok.” He looks to the cheery man beside him. “As his is mine.”
“What does that mean for you and the others?” You ask him, taking a bite of your stir-fry.
“We’re all still soulmates,” he answers. “Nothing will ever change that. Hoseok and I just connected on a deeper level. It doesn’t mean we’re more intimate with each other, it doesn’t even mean we love each other more than we love any of you,” he motions towards everyone at the table. “It just means we’re closest with each other on a spiritual level. He’s like my twin flame. I think that’s what Americans call it sometimes.”
You’re not unfamiliar with the terminology, but you never considered it true. You thought it was just an excuse for people to seek other relationships when they had a soulmate, or an excuse for some soulmates to be excessively smitten with each other.
“Do you all have twin flames?” You ask the remaining members. They all nod.
“Mine is Kookie,” Tae smiles.
“And mine is V,” Jungkook replies.
“Mine is Jimin,” Jin tells you. Jimin nods, “and mine is Jin,” he adds.
“And you’re mine,” Yoongi tells you, eyes still soft and warm on yours. You flush under his direct gaze, turning into a melting pot of emotions.
“How long have my initials been bold?” You ask him, voice wavering from the force of emotion that’s threatening to crack you open.
“Since our debut,” he replies, taking a drink of his water. Full lips pressing against the fogged glass of the cup sinfully. He takes your ogling as a mere loss for words, “you’re here now, though. That’s all that matters.”
You snap out of your reverie and realize that had you not been smitten by the way he drank his water, you most definitely would have been apologizing for taking so long to show up.
“Even so, I’m still sorry for taking years to find you guys.” You tell them all, tearing your gaze from Yoongi’s soul-stirring one to address the rest of the members, your soulmates. “I do have a question, and I don’t want it to come off as rude.”
“I’m sure it won’t,” Namjoon reassures you.
“Well, I was just wondering why you guys hide your marks? Elle said you guys cover them for interviews and public outings.”
“We do,” he answers, “we didn’t want to go public with anything unless we had to, at least, not until you were here. We didn’t want to make any decisions unless we all had a say in them, especially given our careers.”
You nod thoughtfully, appreciating his answer and the meaning behind it.
“That’s thoughtful of you all,” you say, smiling as you look to each of them. “Thank you.”
They smile back.
“If you guys want to go public with it, I’m fine with that. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” You explain.
“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, eyes and voice full of concern.
“We could cover your initials for now,” Jin suggests, “you are the youngest of us, so it wouldn’t be a hassle. And we could uncover it once everything’s more secure? For instance, if you move here?”
You run over the option in your head, seeing no direct harm that could come from doing so.
“That might be a better option,” you agree, “would that make you uncomfortable, Yoongi?” You ask him, concerned that it might cause your twin flame even an ounce of discomfort.
“No,” he answers, and you can tell from the look in his eyes that he means it. “As long as you’re safe and happy, we’re fine with doing whatever we need to.”
You melt at his words, finding immense comfort in them. It’d only been an hour of you being with them, and you’re already feeling an immense relief. Was this what it felt like to be around your soulmates? Was this what you’d been missing out on?
You couldn’t even begin to fathom the difficulty Elle and Cam had when they were around each other. BTS had been in your company for not even a day, and you could already feel a gravitational pull towards them, anchoring you to them in a way that left you feeling complete.
“Thank you,” you tell Yoongi, grinning at the flush that spreads across his full cheeks at your praise. “Thank you, all.” You tell the rest of them, your appreciation seeping through your very pores. “I can’t begin to express to you how much it means to me knowing you all support me so much already.”
They smile at you, taken by your words. You can feel the mood in the room lift substantially, and you thank the heavens above for allowing this brunch to go so much better than originally planned.
The rest of the food is devoured quickly by the eight of you, and it feels like all of 10 minutes have passed before the food is gone, and Elle is calling you nonstop. You reluctantly tell them you have to go, heart aching at the drop in their expressions at your announcement. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow! At the show!” You tell them, texting Elle to have Shei come get you. Their expressions brighten slightly, but you can still see that they don’t want you to go.
“How about this? I’ll give you guys my personal number, and we can start a group chat. Plan some hangouts and see where that takes us?”
They nod enthusiastically, pulling their phones out and quickly inputting your information into their contact lists. You can feel your phone vibrating in your back pocket at least 10 times as you say your goodbyes and thanks.
You bow to them, following the waiter out of the restaurant through the kitchen and into the back alleyway. Elle and Shei are waiting in the SUV, and Elle pounces on you as soon as you step foot into the large vehicle.
“You are telling me everything when we get back to the hotel.” She orders, you’re about to object, but she covers your mouth with her hand, “Nope. That’s my payment for not getting a single update from you in two and a half hours.”
You roll your eyes and mumble a ‘whatever,’ but her hand blocks out any sense you might have made. She laughs at you, finally pulling her hand away.
“Did you have a good time at least?” She asks.
“It actually went really well.” You answer, blush rising. You turn towards your window, watching the scenery pass by, when you receive another text.
You pull out your phone, unlocking the screen and entering your texting app.
8 unread conversations greet your eyes. 7 singular text chains, and one group text.
The first text you’d received in the restaurant is a simple ‘hi’ that’s signed ‘Jungkook.’
The next is longer.
‘Hello, jagiya! It’s Taehyung!’ A purple heart sits at the end of the sentence.
‘Worldwide Handsome here, checking in on his beautiful soulmate. Xxx Jin’ The next reads.
‘Y/Nie! It’s Hoseok! Text us when you get to your hotel safely! We had fun today :)’
‘Hello, Jagi!!!! Jimin here ;) We miss u already xxx’
‘Hi, Y/N. It’s Namjoon. Make sure to save our numbers so you don’t think we’re strangers texting you all the time. I’ll set up a group chat after I send this. :-)’
‘Hey, it’s Yoongi. Your twin flame.’ You smile at that, noting that he’s sent another since then. ‘You obviously know that, please disregard that message… oh, and check the group chat.’
You do as you’re told, and smile at your phone. There are introductions, but what sticks out most to you is the picture of you and Yoongi gazing at each other at the table. Judging by the angle, Jungkook or Taehyung must have taken it. It’s flattering and captures the ambience of the early afternoon.
You hug your phone to your chest, emotion flowing through you hotly. You reply to the texts and follow Namjoon’s advice and save their numbers. The group chat goes crazy after you reply, Taehyung and Jin spamming it with animated gifs, and Jimin sending a few selfies.
You don’t miss the pointed glance Elle sends your way as she watches your face dance with happy emotions during the car ride home.
Typically, you’d snap at her in embarrassment, but the happiness and complete full-feeling you’re experiencing now prevent you from feeling anything short of euphoric.
even more niche boyfriend things i think bts would do
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
namjoon:
not a newborn baby but is a big proponent of the kangaroo care concept; like loves to cuddle you while he’s shirtless; him on his back you laid on top of him, skin touching skin at every possible contact point; it does it for him every time
sends you pictures of animals he finds wandering around when he’s out and about
takes soooo many pictures of you; don't get me wrong there's a fair share of couples photos like you're definitely taking selfies together whenever y'all go out but he takes twice as many off guard pictures of you as posed ones; definitely has a pic of you during golden hour forlornly looking out a window as his lockscreen
asks you to make him a playlist and listens to it whenever he misses you even if it's really disjointed and doesn't fit his mood simply bc you made it and he's always in the mood for you <333
learns to be more gentle around you so he becomes 5-7% less clumsy when you’re around
if you went to a party together i think there’d only be like one hour max where you’re separated from each other any more than that and y’all both start getting fidgety from missing each other bc if you’re in the same space you absolutely have to be together; when you do meet back up he tucks you up underneath his arm and kisses your temple and y’all are sickly cute for the rest of the night; like enough lovey dovey pda to make someone nauseous
always amazed at the amount of stuff you manage to bring out the house; like you'll come out after him and he sees you walking towards the car, arms stuffed to the brim with water bottles and lotions and umbrellas and whatever else you deemed necessary for the day's outings, so he has to rush to help you before you drop everything; eventually gets hip to the fact that you're a a girl and you're always gonna have bunch of things and starts pre-loading your belongings so you won't have to struggle
Oblivious Boyfriend™; as smart and emotionally intelligent and mindful as he is, he's not a mindreader; like he be so focused on his feelings for you, his passions, and his work that he lowkey don't know wtf going on outside of that; so if there's something going on around you or something wrong with you or you have a problem with him you're gonna have to spell it out lest he be none the wiser
doesn't like when you watch him work out because you're more of a distraction than anything but he does like going to you straight after working out; he gets a real kick out of the way you ogle him and feel up on his biceps while he's all pumped up
he really likes when you call him cute nicknames; joon, joonie, joonie boonie, namu like it lowkey make his heart soar; his personal favorite is joon bug you call him that and he would literally steal the moon if you asked
seokjin:
tests out all his new recipes on you; feeds you bites to taste along the way so you're not too hungry because he's a perfectionist and it takes him extra time for him to plate it; "the presentation is just as important as the taste!"
likes when you’re in the same room as him while he plays his games; not necessarily watching him but just your company is enough; switches between focusing on the game and engaging you in conversation so you won’t get bored; would actually love it if you did take an interest in whatever game he was playing; would take his time explaining the back story of each character and their strengths and weaknesses; would start a separate game so that you could play and have you sit between his legs while he helped you with the controls
has to kiss you at least 3 times before leaving the house; once when you wake up, once while you’re going through your morning routine, and once before you leave; more kisses may be shared but any less than three and he swears his whole day is thrown off
he’s going to pick at you; there’s just no way around it it’s in his nature; he won’t do it enough to make you actually annoyed but enough that you wanna smack him around a little; which… he likes things like that
has no problem singing and dancing whenever y'all are casually listening to music but if you actually wanted him to sing for you he'd get all shy, red in the ears and neck and would have to take a couple days to practice before following through
begs you to join him for tennis practice bc he wants you two to become the next venus and serena
y’all will do that one couples trend on tiktok where they paint each other and then reveal the pictures at the end and it’s not like yours is fantastic or anything but you can tell that you at least tried; meanwhile when you see seokjin’s painting you can’t tell if you’re looking at a distorted walrus or a possessed squirrel either way it is NOT you no matter how much he insists it looks like you
stays sending you thirst traps; like whenever he looks good whether it's bc he's all dolled up for some event or he's fresh out the shower with his hair slicked back or he just sees himself in a mirror and remembers he's worldwide handsome, his phone is out, he's putting a sultry look on his face, snapping a pic, and sending it straight to you
you binge watch animes together; no one will see or hear from either of y’all for like 5 days straight, complete radio silence; and when someone finally knocks on the door they see that y’all been camped out in the living room no phone in sight on season 6 of whatever anime y’all started last friday night
must feed you every time you meet up; like if he has not seen you eat something in the time you spend together he has not completed his boyfriend duties; even if he comes to your place he has to make sure you have at least eaten a snack; doesn't matter how much you weigh he absolutely can not have you wasting away on his watch
yoongi:
gently tucks your hair behind your ear
always offers you his arm to link when it’s cold out so y’all can share each other’s warmth; he absolutely will still be wearing slides with no socks tho and you fuss at him about it every time
lets you play in his hair; just sits there nonchalantly while you give him the most ridiculous hair styles; pig tails, corn rows, mohawks; as long as you don’t cut nothing he doesn’t care fr; takes a picture when you’re done with that big gummy smile on full display bc of how silly he looks
says he's not a big social media person but one of his favorite past times is sitting down with you scrolling down your fyp for hours; makes you send the funniest videos to him so he can watch later
you’re one of the few people that he gains energy from being around so he likes your presence even when you’re not particularly doing anything; like you just be sitting next to each other or like be hand in hand on a walk around the neighborhood not even saying anything but in his head he’s thinking about what a great time he’s having
if you're up late at night and start feeling peckish he'll make you some snacks even if he doesn't plan on eating; still scolds you about how eating late at night is bad as he's enabling you; ends up eating with you too
he doesn't like watching dramas with you; he'll claim it's bc of the plot but really he just doesn't like how you be kicking your feet and giggling at the male leads
not the best with verbal affirmations so whenever he does go out of his way to compliment you he ends up just as flustered as you are; “you look pretty today” and his cheeks are flushed more than yours
always preps you to bargain and gathers together all coupons before y’all go grocery shopping; “just bc i’m rich doesn’t mean i like to be ripped off”
he's always listening to you even when it seems like he's not; you could be rambling on about something and you think he's not paying attention so you stop midsentence and be like "are you even listening to what i'm saying?" and he looks up from whatever he was doing and then repeats back to you everything you said; has a great memory in general so he remembers everything you say and do even the small things that you forget about
hoseok:
sends ‘thinking of you’ texts just to let you know when you’re on his mind
if you start dancing to a song he gets all hyped up and he’s joining you immediately; hands on your hips moving you as he pleases; it’s a club wherever you and the music are
makes you one of his little beaded bracelets that says “ur my hope”
if you fell asleep in a position that looks uncomfortable he’d gently rearrange you until he got you in a more normal position; 100% the type to carry you bridal style to bed if you fell asleep for the night on the couch
the type to pop up at your crib with an insane amount of the most exquisite, top tier take out and you gotta try to figure out who he think eating all this; doesn't even try to fight the boujee allegations when you tease him for bringing out caviar and truffles
always takes pics of you when he thinks you look good; like you could be running late and you’re rushing trying to get out the door but hoseok is just gonna spend a good 30 seconds checking you out while you’re fussing at him and then be like wait a minute and starts posing you; has several organized folders of you because of this labeled by genre of your look; it’s easier that way so when he’s showing people pictures of you they won’t accidentally get a peek of something meant for his eyes only
loves the idea of you becoming his family so he really likes bringing you home; warms his heart to see you getting along with his parents and his sister; sets up a group chat with you him and his sister to help y'all talk more but lowkey gets pouty when y'all do get closer and be chatting and hanging out without him 💀
if you're not already together he'll facetime you in the morning; he won't have much to say at first other than a groggy good morning; but after he comes to terms with the fact that he has to be awake and takes a couple sips of his iced americano he's his usual ball of energy sunshiny self; will have you up doing morning stretches and light calisthenics at 6:30am
every couple weeks y'all go to the nail salon together and get mani-pedis; he leaves the acrylics and jewels and glitter to you but the overall color scheme and design aesthetic for your nails match; takes like 17 pictures of your hands together to show off
loves cuddling up to you on the couch so you can play in his hair; like each time his head is resting on your chest and your hand is running through his hair lightly scratching at his scalp he swears he’s reached nirvana
jimin:
will drag you out the house in the middle of winter to drive down to the beach and watch the sunset together; you’d be huddled up together you sat in between his legs leaning against him his arms draped around your neck pulling you into him; you’d stay there sitting in the sand even after the night settled in just talking until you were shivering and sniffling then he’d take you to a cafe to get some hot cocoa to warm up
randomly calls you in the middle of the night bc he misses your voice; smiles the entire he’s getting scolded for scaring you bc you thought something was wrong bc he called you at 2am
kisses your forehead, nose, and lips in that order every time you part ways
hates knowing there's other people staring at you so like if you're out together and wearing like a hoodie or something and he notices you're garnering attention he zips it all the way up and pulls your hood over your head and tightens the strings so no one can see you; in turn knows you hate the thought that other people even think of him so he pretends they don't even exist; like you can literally point somebody out and be like "omg aren't they so pretty" and he's gonna avert his eyes in the opposite direction won't even look and just be like "you're so pretty. there's only you"
number one advocate for a lazy morning; snuggles into you, his head on your chest trapping you in; looks up at you with a goofy smile and preens when you press a kiss to his forehead
squishes your cheeks in both his hands when you're being too cute for him to handle
like the true feminist he is, he supports your rights and wrongs!!; like you get into it with somebody and then tell him the story afterwards he's hyping you up the entire time telling you that you were right and what you should've done and what he would've done if he were you; he's just always gonna be on your side
riles you up just bc he likes the reactions you make when you’re irritated
it’s tea city when it comes to you two; like whatever you know he knows and whatever he knows you know; gossiping is actually one of your favorite bonding activities; he likes to play it up and drag it out whenever he finds something out; like he’s gonna text you and be like UR NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!!!!! and you’ll be like WHAT and he’ll be like I HAVE TO TELL YOU IN PERSON OMG!!!! 😱 when it’s like noon knowing darn well he not getting off work until 10pm at the earliest 😭
likes to go with you when you have to “run errands” bc it’s usually just you doing girl things like getting coffee and then going to the store to buy snacks and skincare and he thinks it’s really adorable how you light up when you see small things in cute packages
taehyung:
has a series of like 12 hour logs in his phone recents list bc he stay falling asleep on facetime
makes it a point to hang out with your male friends just to assert dominance; doesn't matter if they have partners of their own or are completely uninterested in you he still wants to look them in their eye, shake their hand, and then put his arm around you to tie up any loose ends that may be dangling around
helps you pick the eyelashes out of your eye whenever one gets stuck
asks you to come over with the sole purpose of convincing you to take a nap with him; will straight up lie on the phone and tell you he wanna hang out and do this and that and then when you get over there he like let’s nap first; your cuddles just gon do it for him every time
uses kisses as bargaining chips; like if you need him to do something like idk take out the trash he's only gonna do it if you give him 3 kisses so you give him one as a down payment and the other 2 after he completes the task; (he was always gonna do what you asked but kisses make everything better)
likes to keep his hands free when he's out and about so he's always adding extra stuff to your purse; because he's always in your bag, he knows its exact content; you'll be frantically searching for your lip gloss and he'll ask what you're looking for and when you tell him he'll pull it out of some random side pocket he moved it to so he could make room for his stuff
will randomly wake up out of his sleep and call you just bc you crossed his mind; takes like 30 seconds to respond to anything you say bc he only half awake; the call lasts for like three minutes before he hangs up to go back to sleep
as a big fan of roleplay at least once in your relationship he's gonna make y'all get all dressed up and go to a bar separately and act like strangers and he's gonna pretend to pick you up
if you sent him out to pick up period products last minute he’s the type that ask if you wanted lemon or lime flavor bc one package is yellow and the other is green 😭; alternatively would ask what’s your coochie size when he noticed the numbers on it
he’s not gonna let you win at any game you play; doesn’t matter how much you whine and pout he likes winning too much; god forbid you’re actually good at something he’s gonna try his very hardest and will even practice so that he eventually beats you; will give you all the prizes tho
jungkook:
if he gets bored while you’re asleep he’s gonna start messing with you; his favorite go to games are flicking your bottom lip until you tuck it in or start to gain consciousness and stacking cheerios on your forehead; his personal best is 9 of em
hooks his chin over your shoulder to be nosy when you’re watching something on your phone that catches his attention
he understands that you’re not as nocturnal as he is but sometimes when you stay over at his place and he feels restless he can’t help but crave your attention; will wake you up at 4am gently with kisses so you can try some of the food he made; you’ll be half asleep with him kneeling in front of you feeding you some spicy noodles; he’ll patiently wait for you to finish chewing before he asks you if it’s good; makes you take at least one more bite before kissing your forehead and letting you go back to sleep; tucks himself up next to you about an hour later after he finishes cleaning up after himself
you make funny tiktoks together; they never leave the drafts of course except for when he finds it particularly hilarious and sends it in the group chat
threatens to beat up anyone who upsets you; like you tell him a story about someone who was upsetting you at work and his first response is "bring them to me. i'll take care of it"; and lord don't let someone get carried away at a club or something like if a guy starts hitting on you and won't take no for an answer before you can even tell them off he's already at the scene one shove away from being breaking news on every media outlet in the world
gets pouty when you have a night out without him but he understands the need for balance so doesn’t put up too much of a fight; his only stipulation is that if you can’t make it home on your own or your friends can’t drop you off that you always always call him; the thought of you getting into some randos car late at night when you’re not even mentally there all the way sends chills up his spine; he can’t sleep unless he knows you’re at home safe and sound anyway
doesn't consciously have a preference for how you dress like he thinks you look good in whatever but you in a dress or a skirt itches a particular part of his id that would have carl jung doing backflips; like whenever you pop out in a dress or a skirt he's coming up to you and giving you a kiss on the lips while his arms wrap around your waist and 10-30 seconds later they're dropping down and his hands are toying with the ends of your garment and grazing your thighs underneath it; it just does it for him every time
you're his safe place <333; he goes through periods where you're the only person he wants to see; he will scare you half to death like you'll get off work and go home and you hear all this noise and whole time it's him in your kitchen making sandwiches for lunch; will make up for scaring you by tucking your face into his neck while his arms are wrapped tightly around you so he can breathe you in and then cupping your face and giving you kisses; you're his baby
you have matching hyperfixations; like one of you will get into something and won’t shut up about it and then being the supportive partner you are whenever you’re on social media you send the posts you stumble across to them; but then the algorithm picks up on it and the content keeps popping so often that you actually start being entertained by it too; then y’all won’t shut up about it and have inside jokes and no one ever knows what y’all are talking about bc it’s so deep down into the referential millennial dadaism
gets offended if you’re walking side by side and not touching in some way; like if you start walking ahead of him or something he’s gonna clear his throat very pointedly and when you look at him like ???? he’s gonna look at you like you’re stupid and pull you into him where you belong
a/n: as promised she is back 🫡 thank you to everyone who encouraged me to repost 💕 pls continue to be kind my mental state is probably worse than it was before LOL
