writer: yellow hippo
genre: psycho au, angst
characters: jung hoseok, laelynn [original female character]
synopsis: currently on a hiatus from her ballet classes abroad, she reminisces about a certain street dancer from her past. she meets him again as she was recruited as a muse for his video project. what happens when she tries to win his heart? would she make or break his hard-earned passion and career?
story:
✾ CHAPTER 2 ✾
I betrayed my own conscience…
I knew from the beginning what I was doing was wrong. But can you blame me? I’ve wanted him to notice me ever since I’ve seen him dancing on the streets.
Our next practice schedule, he didn’t show up. I was already expecting it. Sejin came that afternoon and said that I could go home early. Apparently, he came down with the flu after the fansigning event today.
Coincidence? I think not.
“Thanks Sejin-ssi. But I think I’ll stay a little longer. I can practice on my own, so don’t worry about me.”
I texted him once Sejin left.
‘Feel better soon, oppa. Your fans will worry so much once the news comes out.’
The sharp realities that I feel more and more every day...
Practice with him was intimate before the kiss. But now? He’s always accompanied by a manager or a staff member.
His petty excuses make me laugh.
“Do you mind? Our staff wants some clips for our BANGTANTV channel.”
“Jungkook came with me today. Said he was bored at the dorm.”
“I can’t stay late today. I need to get back to my studio.”
“Sorry I can’t come today. PD-nim asked how my mixtape is going.”
I thought my butterfly was finally getting used to me. I thought he would finally rest his wings and stay with me. Apparently, the kiss just made him fly away more.
Red blood staining from being torn apart by reality…
“Oppa, can we talk?” I pulled him away from the manager during one of our practices. He looks at his manager as if asking for help when I pulled him away.
“What’s the matter, Lynn-ah?” He crossed his arms as he avoided my gaze.
“I’m sorry about the ki-” He covered my lips with his hands, afraid that his manager might hear. That was my purpose though. To be heard.
These past few days, I felt like some kind of ghost lingering around him. He doesn’t see me. He doesn’t hear me.
“Hyung, could you get us coffee, please?”
He cleared his throat as his manager left.
“Why?” He asked, walking away from again towards the mirror. He looks at his reflection and then at mine. There was no anger in his eyes. Just plain confusion.
“Because I lo-”
“No, Lynn-ah. Don’t even go there. It isn’t what you think it is. You know me for a long time now, but it’s not the same for me. I met you through my company. You’re a featured dancer for my song. That’s it.”
“How can you turn it into nothing? It was the only thing that kept me going for years.”
My vision starts to blur with the tears pooling in my eyes. How could he just shrug it all off?
“I appreciate the fact that you made me your inspiration, Lynn-ah. But it has to stop there. Let’s save each other from heartbreak by not even going into the same direction it leads to.”
We didn’t talk after that. Just plain practice. It was awkward. Even the people around us noticed that the atmosphere was colder between us.
That greed would become the horn that calls upon hell…
It was the day of the MV shoot. His whole team was there from the managers to his stylists. Bodyguards roam outside the set. Food trucks arriving one by one. He was on a really different level now.
But so am I.
I sat on the floor as I put on my ballet shoes while he warms up. Surprisingly, he offered his hand to help me up. I stared at his hand before taking it. He immediately let go and went to his position as the director called us to be ready.
The dance would start with us being on opposite sides and we each take a step forward, coming closer towards each other. The director asked for separate shots of each of us before taking another that shows us both.
While I was dancing towards the middle, I could see him look at me subtly. I can’t help but smile a little and feel warm inside. He’s still ever the perfectionist. Even if he’s mad at me for what I did, he’s very much aware of how I do our routine.
I intentionally made a mistake while we were doing my solo shot. I trip on my toes and finally, his eyes that were so cold went soft. I pretended to check on my ankle as he ran up to me and asked if I was fine. He called for his manager to get some ice as his fingers gently touched my skin.
“I’m fine, oppa.” I tried to play it cool and stood up ignoring his worried stare. Going back to my position, I signaled the director that I’m ready to shoot once again.
He stood still in the position where we would meet and begin dancing together. I ignored his eyes on me and began dancing my way towards the middle.
It was now or never. Cameras of staff and select media were here capturing behind the scenes. Well, a scene they would get.
Once I reached the middle, I reached for him. Pulling him by the collar, I pecked his lips. It is still soft like before but also sweeter. Perhaps it was the gloss they put on his lips.
He suddenly pushed me away and ran off towards his car. The staff and his managers followed him in a frenzy as they blocked out the media from following him. I stood with a smirk as I watched him run.
Cameras were suddenly surrounding me.
“What’s your relationship with-”
“Are you dating him?”
“How long have you known each other?”
Questions upon questions. Cameras clicking non-stop.
“We go way back in middle school,” I say and all everyone was silent ready to hear the story of how an idol dated someone even before becoming a celebrity. It’s up to them how they twist the story of two people in love. People who met through their similar passion and how they had to sacrifice their love.
synopsis: currently on a hiatus from her ballet classes abroad, she reminisces about a certain street dancer from her past. she meets him again as she was recruited as a muse for his video project. what happens when she tries to win his heart? would she make or break his hard-earned passion and career?
synopsis: currently on a hiatus from her ballet classes abroad, she reminisces about a certain street dancer from her past. she meets him again as she was recruited as a muse for his video project. what happens when she tries to win his heart? would she make or break his hard-earned passion and career?
story:
✾ CHAPTER 1 ✾
Because of my childish love...
“I am your hope. You are my hope. I’m J-”
I smile at my phone screen as I watch some BTS concert clips. They never stop to amaze me. Everyday, they achieve more and more than they already have. They inspire me.
But more than anyone else, there is one certain member that keeps me dreaming.
I remember how I used to watch his underground dance group busker on the streets of Gwangju. Back then, the number of people watching was nothing compared to the number of people that flocked their tours today.
I wanted that too. I wanted what he has accomplished. It might not be the same stage, but it is the same ambition. An ambition I kept holding on to because I want to be noticed, appreciated. I wanted him to know how his mere existence pushed a simple country girl into becoming a star as bright as he has become.
I haven’t disappointed him. I’ve gotten offers from international dance schools as the local ballet studio found it a waste for me to rot in the local scene. They thought it an honor for the crumbling ballet school to have one of their best students attend a prestigious school.
I lost my way on a path of dream…
It’s been 4 years, and now I’m back in Seoul.
4 years and I’ve somehow fulfilled my promise.
I am now a flower on stage. People clamber at my feet just to get a whiff of my performance. But of course, I turn everyone down. I don’t want bees flying around me after all. I don’t want them sucking on my sweet passion and just leave. I want a butterfly instead. No buzzing, just silence. And its wings are so majestic, unlike any other.
“Miss Laelynn, I believe?” A breathless man ran up and bowed to me.
“Yes, I am she. Ryu Sejin-ssi?”
He nods with a smile as he offers to get my luggage for me. I followed him out of the airport as I was led.
“My apologies but the car is a little bit messy. The boys just came from a schedule and I had no time to change cars.”
Sejin opened the door as he scratched his head in shame. I told him it was no problem and I understood how crazy the schedule of the group was. They have been getting more and more popular recently. So of course, it was a given that time was limited for those people working with and for them.
“So, Sejin-ssi. When would I have the honor to meet BTS?”
From the rear view mirror, Sejin looked at me excitedly.
“Oh you’ll meet them tomorrow at lunch, miss Laelynn. Everyone is excited. It’s a first for him to work with a dancer of a different genre than theirs.”
“Likewise.” I smiled, meeting his gaze.
The venom of my ambition...
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” I offered my hand for a shake to each of the boys. Their smiles were indeed dazzling. I understand now why girls are getting greedy over them.
“I believe I’ll be working with-?” I asked them in general.
“With me, Laelynn-ssi.” He raised his hand shyly and giggled behind one of the other boys.
“Ah of course. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”
“Recognize me? Have we met before?” He asked in wonder, his eyes searching mine for any memory.
“Oh no. But I have seen you dance since you were young. I’m also from Gwangju, you see.”
“Ah. Well, that’s embarrassing.” He rubbed his palms together as he laughed awkwardly.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You were the best dancer out of your group. If I remember correctly, I saw you get scouted many times by agencies after every performance.”
He keeps getting redder by the moment. Every little memory I say make him stutter on the spot. The other boys all laughed and patted his back as they all laughed and agreed how good of a dancer he is.
“I’ll finally be able to see that greatness I’ve admired from afar.” I smiled sweetly at him and his stuttering came to an abrupt stop, but the teasing of the other boys only made him go redder than he already was.
I can’t wait to play with my little butterfly even more.
I sharpened my knife every day…
Because practice was not the only schedule keeping the group busy, my game with my butterfly had to wait a little more. But I’m patient enough. I’ve worked hard for four years honing my dancing skill just to reach the top. What’s a few more days, or even weeks, of waiting if I’ll be rewarded grandly.
“Sorry I kept you waiting, Laelynn-ssi.”
“No worries, oppa. And please, call me Lynn. No need for formalities, remember? Do you want me to feel awkward just by calling you ‘oppa’?”
“Of course not. Lynn-ah, then. I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting. But I really appreciate this. I know there are better opportunities out there but you took this one instead.”
“Hey. It’s actually an honor working with you. BTS? Who would’ve thought I’d get contacted by them for a special project?”
Perfect pace. No need to hurry. There’s nothing in the way after all. Again, I just got to be patient. I’ll be able to make my move once my butterfly takes the bait and stay.
This love is another name for the devil.
We were both breathless. Our bodies are hot from all the exertion.
“Man, that was intense.” He chuckles as he looks at me.
“I missed that. I thought you softened up what with all this idol life going on. Who knew you could still go hard. I surely didn’t. You drained me out enough, I can’t even feel my thighs anymore. I’m gonna have to be wheeled out of here.”
“I didn’t go that hard. What are you talking about?” He laughs at my whining and we both stared at the ceiling, finally able to catch our breaths.
“Yeah, you didn’t. This is nothing compared to my mentor in Paris. We’d start at the crack of dawn and end when the owls start hooting for the night.”
“You must have been really tired then. No wonder you’re one of the best ballerinas of this country.”
“Thanks. I’ve done my best for someone. Now I’m happy. I feel like I can finally rest now that I’m finally noticed.”
“He must be one lucky guy then.”
“You are lucky, indeed.” I whispered. I lifted myself up from the floor and crawled the distance between us. My knees on each side of his waist and my hands on his chest.
Slowly, I leaned down until our lips softly met. I felt he gasp in surprise, his lips parting unexpectedly at what I did. Grabbing his face in my hands, I deepened our kiss.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, oppa.” I pecked his lips one last time before getting up and out of the studio.
The last thing I see is him still lying on the floor as he touched his lips with his fingers.
characters: kim namjoon, veronika [original female character]
synopsis: namjoon and veronika are on the run but they were confident enough that they can pull it off. besides, they vow that no one can ever take them alive.
WARNING: MAY CONTAIN EXPLICIT DEPICTION OF VIOLENCE, SEX, PROFANITY, AND MENTAL ISSUES.
story:
⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒
⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝑆𝐸𝑇 𝐼𝑇 𝑂𝐹𝐹
⠀⠀1:01 ───●────── 3:31
⠀ ⠀⠀|◁ II ▷|
A sliver of the late morning sunlight peeked through the small gap of the cheap polyester curtain, a gentle glow against their bare skin that remained exposed amidst a mess of blanket and tangled limbs. The air was still thick and heavy with sex, the walls still carried the imprint of sweat-soaked skin, and the floor was covered with the scattered pieces of fabric that belonged to the two bodies wrapped around each other.
Pale fingers traced circles on the side of his arm, making swirls and lines opposed to the ink on his skin as if writing a story that only he holds. A hum escaped his thick lips as his eyes slowly fluttered open, dark ones making its way to meet a pair of blue hues. "Good morning, babe." His voice was husky, almost smoky. It was a more than familiar tone that he uses, at times, unintentionally.
Her mind was still clouded from the previous day’s crime and the night’s heat, and there was a late morning craving for honey-dripped kisses and lust-drenched skin.
Soft plump lips pressed against his tan skin, whispering sins and delusions on the base of his neck. Strong hands wandered the curve of her waist down to her hips, pulling her closer. Hooking a leg along his waist made her more vulnerable, especially when his hand gently glided on the curve of her hips before reaching from behind, parting the thin laced fabric, two digits rubbing between her legs.
Soft moans made its way past her rosy lips, singing against his skin as she planted gentle kisses along his collarbone, where a wild rose tattoo was etched on, nipping on the skin to leave a couple of marks next to the ones she made the night before. Gentle mewls against his skin as his fingers grew more sensual against her heated core. The corner of his lips tugged up to a proud smirk as he elicited the sounds that he adored. And he knew all too well that the low groan followed by a bite on his shoulder meant how impatient she was getting.
Her slender leg swung over to straddle him as a certain blue flame danced in her own blue eyes. "Didn’t you get enough last night, babe?" he asked, voice husky as his hands sensually rubbed her bare thighs. "Don’t you want to—" He groaned as he was cut off by a spark of friction between their clothed sex, his hands gripping on her waist, pressing her harder against him.
The louder the sound, the more the flames in between their legs grew. Her impatience extended to him as they both rid their bodies of the remaining piece of cloth, her eager hand guided his shaft as she sheathed his entire length in her velvet walls.
His hands molded her waist as he controlled their pace, growling as he felt himself being clenched by her walls which only made him go a bit rougher. With her head thrown back, blonde curls like golden waterfalls, ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝐺 as she sang the song 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑟, 𝐶 𝑡𝑜 𝐷.
Lost in the feeling of both passion and pleasure, they had complete disregard when it came to the time and how they were supposed to check out at exactly noon, but the loud knock on the door was sure to remind them. And yet instead of answering it, they only let their voice grow louder.
"We should—" She tried to suggest in between the string of moans and whimpers that begged to be sung but it only fueled him, driving her insane and pushing her over the edge. As much as she knew that they were on the run and had to get on their feet, she needed the flame even more.
A smug smirk was stretched across his lips, aware that his movements caused her to become a mess of moans and whimpers, unable to finish a sentence that she intended to stop him.
The knocks grew louder just as their mixed voices filled the room with the lewd sounds of pleasure, pleading, and wanting more as if they were in a world where there were no one else but them. And maybe that was why they were such a perfect match—they had a lack of care towards the people around them, only having regards for themselves.
The sound of keys jingling, as the housekeeper attempted to open the shabby door, was drowned by the profanity that they did not hear it creak open. A gasp cut through the sexual noises, but not even the presence of the housekeeper and a guard did not stop the two as they were nearing their peaks.
Her body was leaning forward, hands on his chest as her nails dug through his skin as she felt the familiar coil in her stomach. Her walls were clenching around his entire length, squeezing him tighter which made him groan and thrust harder, shoving her to her peak. A proud smirk was plastered on his face as he watched her come undone before gripping her waist tighter as he pulled her down, plunging deeper into her as he released every drop into her velvet walls.
Sweat-drenched skin against each other and chests heaved as they tried to catch their breaths, her burner phone rang as more than two pairs of eyes followed the sound of the generic ringtone that filled the room.
"Ma’am and sir, you’re past the check-out time," the housekeeper said, her thick Southern accent making it sound a bit more friendly than intimidating. But instead of answering, Veronika pulled herself up which made their liquids drip down her inner thighs. She crawled to the edge of the bed as she reached for the phone on the nightstand to answer the call.
Her plump lips were pressed into a straight line as she listened to the voice from the other end of the line. Her soft features soon grew firm as her gaze turned sharp and shot him an alarmed look which made him sit up almost immediately. The tension was brewing thick, even unable to be cut through by the constant call of the housekeeper and guard who had their back against the two now.
The call coming to an abrupt end, the blonde huffed. "What is it? Who was that?" The blond guy asked, his deep voice etched with a hint of worry. The previous day’s events played through their minds, reminding themselves of the euphoric taste of their crime.
The blonde girl glanced at the two strangers who were still asking them to start packing up. She leaned in a bit closer to the guy in order to whisper, "The authorities are looking for us. We’re all over the news."
"Then we really do have to go now," he firmly said as he slipped out of the bed as he dressed up as he collected his clothes that were scattered all over the floor. His gaze followed the girl who was searching the entire area for her clothes. "I got your jacket." He threw it across the bed which she caught perfectly.
Without another word, they walked out of the room being followed by the guard. Their movements were careful and calculated as they headed back to the lobby to check out. It was as if it was just any other day, as if their faces were not plastered on paper and flashed in news on television. They flashed the reception smiles that mock how clueless they were that they accommodated a couple of cutthroats, without giving it a second thought—despite the questionable stains on their clothes and disheveled hair.
Parading down the street, they knew they were treading on tightrope, hanging onto their remaining wits and luck. Despite wanting to hang their heads low and not draw any attention, their blonde hair glowed in the midst of shambles with a façade of perfection and innocence.
They knew which item on their list had been checked out and what else had to be executed, and at that point, their clock was ticking faster than they wanted and needed it to be. They still had two things to do, a hit-and-run kind of task that needed a level of poise to handle, something Veronika was confident that she could execute. But even if she denied it, she could feel her nerves tremble under the pressure brought by the time and the act itself.
Upon arrival at the antique shop, Veronika’s blue eyes scanned the area as she tried to come up with a faster yet still compelling angle to work on in order to get the owner to step out of the counter long enough for Namjoon to take the money so they can finally fly to a different city and start over, as they try to put it nicely.
Her eyes caught a glimpse of an artwork which seemed some kind of macabre portrayal of Romeo and Juliet. Despite Juliet’s dead body floating on her own pool of blood and Romeo’s pale corpse laying next to her with the empty vial of poison still in hand, there was something about it that appealed to the blonde girl.
"I haven’t seen this before," she sweetly said, still admiring the artwork that was hung around the opposite corner of the counter. "I bet a lot of people tried to buy this masterpiece."
The owner was an old man and he seemed alone. His eyes were filled with years of stories that are probably going to be left untold. "I wish I can say you’re right but no one really wants to hang such gruesome artwork in their own home." He took a careful step as he glanced at the empty shop, thinking it would not hurt to step out of his post and attend to a customer.
"Maybe it is a little weird but it has a certain charm, don’t you think?" She smiled sweetly, almost innocently, but something still felt off.
The old man chuckled, standing next to the blonde girl. "If there is, you’re the first one to notice it." He reached for the painting’s frame, grazing her fingers delicate as if he was careful not to break it. "It was brought here along with a few more things. I haven’t seen anything like it. Romeo and Juliet are often painted as alive and in love, but rarely about how they died. Truly heartbreaking."
At the corner of Veronika’s eyes, she saw Namjoon starting to make his move so she tried to prolong the conversation. And for a while, she was able to keep it up but when the owner looked at the counter’s direction, he slid his hand in his pocket only to pull out what looked like a button and pressed it. ❝I’ve dealt with you hoodlums for so long, you’re not getting away with this,❞ he shouted before running outside of the shop. The old man who seemed feeble had enough energy to get away.
"Hurry!" The blonde girl groaned, brushing trembling fingers through her hair. "I’m not going back to fucking jail, Namjoon!"
He was getting frustrated as he zipped up the bag filled with both money and a few more valuables that he found along the shelves. "Do you really think I want to go back there, too, Vee? Not a chance."
The two of them headed out, running for their lives, knowing that the clock is ticking and it was just a matter of time until they were caught.
"Over my dead body," Veronika said through gritted teeth.
Five feet away from a car that could free them, the sound of the siren flooded their surroundings as two shots rang, echoing in the open space. Veronika flinched, terrified of the sound when it does not come from a gun that she holds. She turned around only to see Namjoon on the ground, hand still tightly gripping on the duffel bag.
And she could have easily run away but her heart told her not to.
"Run," Namjoon croaked, blood filling the gap of his lips and yet no matter the warning, she was not going anywhere. If she was not going to be with Namjoon, she had no plans of ever escaping the situation.
Through blurred vision, he could see her petite figure running towards him. And though he wished that the last image that he would have of her was her blonde hair dancing with the wind as she called his name, he was not granted that. Just as the lights started to dim, another set of two shots cut through the sound of the siren.
"Namjoon..." she whispered, voice fading towards the end of his name. Just a couple of feet away, Veronika crawled until she was able to reach for his hand.
Their bodies were sprawled across the concrete, flashes of blue and red glowing against their skin. It was overcast as if the sky empathized with the lovers who tried to hold on to dear life, mouthing their vows to each other as crimson added color to the grey. Her blue eyes looked at his dark ones, a faint smile painted on their lips that held an unspoken promise.
❝They’ll never take us alive.❞
***
Upon further investigation, Veronika and Namjoon had been connected to more than fifteen bodies and a dozen robberies. It was intricate, a twisted and illegal work of art that served as their legacy.
If it was not for the mediocre attempt, then they could have gotten out alive.
genre: fluff (so fluffy you gon choke haha), one-shot
characters: kim taehyung, reader [you]
synopsis: you are a writer and you are having trouble writing a romantic scene, but find magic in the smallest of things.
story:
Dammit. This sucks!
You’ve tried over and over to conjure up a romantic scene for your novel; a sweet scene you hoped would make the reader curl their toes and maybe shed a tear, or two. The Notebook jumping kiss scene type of iconic.
You’ve done this a million times, in your other novels. Your readers always loved your quirky little romantic scenes – how you made the simplest gestures of love glorious with your beautifully-placed words and your penchant for simple, sometimes quiet, sweetness.
But, for some reason, it’s not happening right now. You’ve sat in front of your rickety years-old Macbook, tapping away, only to attack the Backspace button in frustration, when it sets in that none of whatever this is was enough.
You take in a deep breath. Maybe you need a break. Another cup of coffee. Maybe some chocolate for some extra dopamine.
You push your laptop farther into the table. You rub your eyes, which, by that time, have almost dried up after hours glued onto the screen.
You make your way into the kitchen, your train of thought still lost on what your scene was lacking. You’ve written the scene over and over, added some elements, chopped off a few – but you just can’t feel anything.
You go over to the fridge for some water, and maybe a chocolate bar or two. Upon opening the door, you see a bunch of chocolate bars, tied together by a red ribbon, with a green sticky note on them.
Hi Darling!
I know you need this today. Enjoy!
PS: Leave me the rice crispy ones, will you? Or at least half of one if you like them too much.
See you later.
I love you! x
Tae Tae
You smiled.
It has been a few months since you and Taehyung had begun dating. You met him at the MoMA in New York, accidentally spilling some of your iced coffee on him when you backed into him by accident. His coat looked lovely and expensive, and judging by the look on his face, you thought the whole thing would end up with you in a police station.
Tae was intimidating, alright. He had a reserved, almost blank look on his face, a smile rare and only reserved for his friends and family, or his fans. And, at the time, you were neither.
You apologized profusely, offering to have the coat dry cleaned, or replaced, even though you knew it would probably cost more than your rent for a whole month. Or two.
But Tae just smiled at you, taking in your face – brows furrowed in fear and frustration, cheeks tinged in dark pink, bright brown eyes pleading. He knew you didn’t mean it, feeling bad at how scared you looked and sounded, profusely apologizing to him.
“Hey.” He said, gently. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
He smiled at her, then fished out a small packet of wipes from his bag. You watched as he tried his best to get the nearly dried coffee off his coat, somewhat succeeding when only a barely noticeable brown patch was left.
“You spilled your coffee.” Tae said, casually, as if the said coffee hadn’t bothered him at all.
“Are you planning on getting some more?” he asked. “I’d like some, too.”
And from then, you went on to spend the rest of your museum tour with Tae. You walked around galleries, nerded out on your favorite artists, and gladly mocked how ridiculous post-modern art was.
He then drove you back to your apartment and asked for your number, and the rest, as they say, is history.
You were afraid of the whole thing, you had to admit. You were never that fortunate when it came to dating; you were always either crushed, or ghosted, or both. And somehow, it worked wonders for your writing. Writers write better with a broken heart, don’t they?
The thought brought a small, sinking hole down in your chest. Tae was the best boyfriend. He was a busy idol, 1/7 of BTS, the biggest band in the world, yet he always made time for you; always took you out on dates, always planned trips, always went to your book launches (heavily disguised, of course), always manages to have energy left to make sure you were satisfied and could barely walk the next day.
He should be inspiring you. Why isn’t he?
You grab the bundle of chocolate bars from the fridge and grab the almond one, setting the rest back into their place in the fridge. You unwrapped the bar and bit off a mouthful, allowing yourself to enjoy the sweetness – sweetness you hope you could channel into your work.
Your eyes land on the counter, noticing Taehyung had left his portable speaker home. He always brought it with him, blasting his favorite jazz songs, much to the annoyance of Jungkook, who also brings a speaker of his own.
Music has always helped get you in the mood for romance, be it for writing or for Tae. You make your way to the counter, turning the speaker on, which automatically connects your phone. You open your Spotify, choosing a random love-themed playlist that might have a few good tracks to jog your romantic tendencies.
You stood by the counter, and a soft beat begins to fill the room.
The song was unfamiliar; but the beat was soft, dreamy. The kind you’d hear at prom. The kind you’d love to be spun around to by the love of your life under the bright moonlight, in the city limits.
Your thoughts immediately fly to Tae. He was an amazing dancer. And the sweetest man in the world. The love of your life.
Oh, would you love to dance with him.
Before you realize it, you find yourself grooving along to the song, with a silly little smile on your face. Your close your eyes, spinning around, your mind dancing around thoughts of your Taehyung and what it would be like to have him dance with you; your arms on his neck, his hands on your waist, him spinning you around, only to pull you back close to him.
As you lose yourself into you little fantasy, you feel a hand grip yours, pulling you in in one swift motion. As your senses return to reality, you found yourself face to face with Tae, a big smile on his face, his nose barely touching yours.
Before you could say a word, Tae begins to sway you both back and forth, just in time with the song. His smile was replaced by a look of love and admiration, his beautiful eyes gazing deeply into yours; Tae lays your palm on his chest, letting your feel his heartbeat go wild, in having you so close and basking in two things he loved the most in this world – you and dancing.
You close your eyes, resting your forehead on his.
“So,” Tae begins, with a chuckle. “Is this what you do when I’m not home?”
“Maybe.” you reply, with a small smile.
“I always wondered what it was like to dance… like this.” you say, nuzzling Tae’s nose.
“I’ll dance with you every day, darling.” Tae says, planting a soft, sweet kiss on your lips. “Here in our kitchen, down the street, backstage, in the Big Hit office…”
“We’ll look like idiots.” you say.
“Idiots in love.” Tae replies, in a tone of pride, seemingly correcting you. “The best kind of idiots there is.”
You bury your face into Tae’s shoulder, taking in his scent of aftershave and smoke, blissful and content. The song has long stopped, and you were probably too lost in each other you had barely noticed. Still, Tae continues to sway you both side to side, gently, content in this little moment of nothing but pure love.
synopsis: Relationships may be oh so fantastic. But taking it into another level by living together? You find out more secrets than the ones you already know. And these secrets change your relationship. These secrets make you. But the worst case? It breaks you.
character/s: jeon jungkook, reader [you]
story:
INT. APARTMENT - ENTRANCE - NIGHT
You and JK are both standing by the door. His hands are on your wrist as he tries to stop you from leaving.
Jungkook
Our minds have new eyes and visions of us.
I think I need a minute
to figure out what is and what isn't.
You
These choices and voices, they're all in your head.
Jungkook
Sometimes you make me feel crazy.
You
Sometimes, I swear I think you hate me.
I need a walk. I need to get out of here.
Jungkook
But I need to know.
Who are you?
'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with.
You
Who am I?
You turn back and face JK and pull your wrist away from him.
Just because something has changed?
Jungkook
You're not the same, I hate it.
I'm sick of waiting for love.
I know that you're not the one.
You
Feeling hypnotized by the words that you said.
Don't lie to me just to get in my head.
Jungkook
When the morning comes and you're still in my bed.
But it's so cold.
Who are you?
'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with
Who are you?
You
You keep saying that I’m not the girl you fell in love with, baby.
Then who are you?
Jungkook
Who am I?
You’re the one who changed. You're not the same and I hate it.
You
I'm sick of waiting for love.
You face the door once again, silently hoping he stops you again. But as the minute passed, you took a deep breath and you found the courage to open the door.
Jungkook
He is fiddling with his fingers, his head bent down. His voice is barely audible.
Who are you?
You
Oh, I know that I’m not the one anymore.
EXT. APARTMENT - ENTRANCE - NIGHT
You step out of your shared apartment. As you close the door, your heart shatters. You hear his sobs and you want to go back to him. Your mind tells you that you should get back inside and hug him. Tell him everything is alright.
But your heart knows, even if it’s in pieces. It knows that whatever you once had can longer be the same.
You changed. He felt it before you did. You were slowly breaking him. So you know that leaving is for the best.
synopsis: it doesn’t always have to be romantic. sometimes it’s a mutual understanding, a mutual decision to keep each other for a longer time.
character/s: park jimin, reader [you], kim taehyung
story:
The sun was more golden lately but the wind seemed colder. It was almost too beautiful, especially with the field of blooming sunflowers, but there were only wilted petals inside Jimin’s chest. His cheeks were puffed, fingers brushing through his grey hair, as a sigh of frustration left his plump lips.
As much as he did not want to admit it, Jimin was confused. He got a sign and yet for the next few days, it all seemed like a joke. And this takes a different hit on Jimin’s curiosity, especially when he starts seeing you with Taehyung.
There was no doubt that Taehyung is attractive, even you mentioned it once or twice but you had also called Jimin ‘adorable’ and ‘handsome’ more than a handful of times over the years, which probably made him think that there was something more to it.
It sounded crazy and it probably still does, but it was more than just that. You shared small and big moments together. You were each other’s best friends and you knew each other more than anyone possibly could. You have the strongest foundation that there is…
...but why were you not together?
“I should have stayed at home.” Jimin shook his head, wondering what else was bound to get wrong. It was supposed to be a happy get-together but for some reason, he could not feel anything but sadness despite being surrounded by a bunch of people from work, and friends.
The faint smile on your lips faded to a frown as you looked at him with those brown eyes that always seemed so soft...or maybe it was only with him. “You don’t like it, Chim?” you asked, reaching to loop your arms around his and pulling him closer.
The look of disappointment that settled on your face was his weakness and he was locked in. “I like it but I wanted to spend the day without a crowd. Maybe I just wanted to spend the day with you.”
And those words might have sounded so mundane but the answer you gave was like magic, “Then let’s get out of here.” You reached for his hand, pulling him away from the event.
The funny thing was no one seemed to notice. And you were fine with that.
You started to hum as you started to walk towards the direction of your secret place―a small coffee shop that almost no one notices. It was a cozy place with good food and good music, which you both enjoy. Most days, you would try to work there just for a change of scenery since the office can be quite suffocating at times.
“I know that look.” Jimin pouted, worry etched on his eyes that gaze on you. “What’s bothering you so much to make your face look like that?”
You scrunched up your nose, not knowing what to really tell him. A part of you could sense what he was feeling and it was not that it was bothering you because, in all honesty, you felt the same. But you have all the reasons not to pursue these feelings that fill your heart which you thought was empty.
Not wanting to talk about it yet, you shook your head. “Just family stuff. You know how they can get sometimes.” There may have been truth in it, but it was not what was bothering you during a peaceful day. A thought has been stuck at the corner of your mind for months or maybe years but you were scared to talk about it.
“I’ve known you for years. You can’t expect me to believe that.” He arched a brow. “It’s obviously a lie.” He shook his head and reached for your hand, mind racing and heart thumping.
At that moment, there was no way for Jimin to pretend that there was nothing. And you could no longer deny that there is something. Stitched in the years of friendship is that dash of feelings that could be more than just being friends.
But for some reason, there is still that tug that keeps the two of you from pursuing each other.
And maybe, the time has come to talk about it.
“Seriously, what’s going on?” he asked.
Your eyes pleaded not to go down that path but his dark ones asked for honesty, and you had no choice but to oblige. “Remember the coffee on Valentine’s Day?” you asked, avoiding any possible eye contact just so you could save yourself from any form of embarrassment. “That was me. I sent you the coffee.”
Jimin’s expression remained cool and collected, a faint smile stretching across his plump lips. “I know.” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, reassuring you. “You’re the only one who knows my favorite coffee. It was too easy.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything?” There was the question that you were terrified to ask and he dreaded to hear. But it was out in the open and all he needed was to answer it.
He pressed his lips together, not knowing how to answer it without sounding like a coward with so many excuses. But he remembered how you specifically asked him to always be honest with you. “I didn’t want things to be awkward between us. I didn’t want to assume that you have feelings for me because I thought you like Taehyung.” There was sadness in his voice and you hated the tone, especially because you were part of the cause.
“It was more a happy crush, what I have with you.” You sighed. “As much as I would want to give it a try, I’d rather not but not because I don’t like you enough. Maybe I like you so much that I don’t want to risk anything.” Your brown eyes met his, hoping that he would understand your reason. “I’d rather have you as my best friend for my entire life than lose you just because I wanted to see if we would work romantically.”
Your chest clenched as you waited for his response. Every second of silence made you regret saying anything at all because you felt as if he already made up some sort of conclusion about you.
“I understand that. I don’t want to lose you, too.” He smiled softly at you. “As much as I’m curious, I don’t want things to be awkward between us and ruin what we have.”
“Exactly.” You nodded. “You’re that one person I could always turn to, that one person who never judged me for anything. That’s more important to me than anything else, especially right now when things are getting crazy at home.”
“Now can you stop worrying that I’m going to leave because I would never but you have to promise me one thing…” He looked at you, brown eyes twinkling and strands of his grey hair before his eyes.
“Now what?” You huffed.
He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a squeeze before looking deeply into your eyes. “No matter what happens, you’re my favorite girl and I’m your favorite boy. We will always have each other’s backs no matter what happens.” He smiled sweetly at you. “Promise?”
You rolled your eyes, still thinking that the whole thing sounds childish and stupid…
...but deep inside, along those lines, was something deeper.
You know that when you need someone to talk to at two or three in the morning, he would be there to lend an ear. When you need someone who would understand your family problems and work struggles, he would be there to hug you and remind you that you are doing good. When you want to celebrate little wins, he would be there with the brightest smile and a cup of coffee.
And when he needs those things, too, you would be there for him…
synopsis: some things are only for oneself. some things are shared to friends, family, significant other, or even social media. but there are things that only the therapist knows.
character/s: jeon jungkook, original character [i]
TRIGGER WARNING: may contain mention of violence, profanity, mental health, self-harm
story:
There are things that no one else knows, things that are better off kept to oneself or locked away in the deepest and darkest part of ourselves. It sounds kind of selfish, almost as if I did not give a single fuck about anyone around me because sharing is supposed to be caring, but let us be honest for a while...none of you gives a shit about anyone, too.
But when you keep everything to yourself and not share it with anyone, chances are you would burst into flames and your enemies will dance on your ashes, not even taking time to scatter your remains at your favorite place. So the moral lesson of life is trust no one.
Why have I grown to be such a heartless loser? It’s all because of a guy.
How cliché. But isn’t life a compilation of clichés?
“Let’s give him a name. Jeon. Let’s call him that.
It wasn’t anything romantic or extraordinary like eyes meeting from opposite sides of the room or bumping into each other and me spilling coffee on his perfect white shirt. But it does involve coffee.
There is this hidden gem of a coffee shop in Gangnam that holds these jam nights. It's really fun. It's not just music. There's a bit of slam poetry and every Friday the 13th, there's a speed dating.
Yes. That's where I met Jeon.
I still remember his first question…"
I had yet to settle on the stool when the guy asked, "What's with the black lipstick?" His voice dripped of this tone that seemed like some kind of judgment, which I was ready to retort. But then my eyes saw the most gorgeous being to walk this fucked up planet. Maybe for me but that was the thing, I normally dislike everyone but there was something about him that gripped onto me so tight that I could not find a way to escape it.
His dark brown eyes seemed too pierce through my soul, his button nose being the only adorable thing on such a handsome face, his red lips tugged up to a smirk, and framing his face was his gorgeous chin-length black hair with an undercut on the right side―a modern Hades with his black clothes and black boots, matched with his golden skin that glowed even under the dim light of the coffee shop.
I arched my brow as I looked at him, wondering what a guy like him was doing at a speed dating.
“Not to be judgmental but he had the look of a sex god and I am pretty sure that every girl who sees him would definitely jump on him. Trust me on that one because if it wasn’t for my lack of interest and self-control, I would have straddled him right there and then.”
Out of habit, I rolled my eyes not out of genuine annoyance but more of to build a bit of persona around him. It was more of a mask as I tried to gauge what he likes and what he was into...the likes. “I didn’t really want to go to this thing. When they said Friday the 13th event, I was looking forward to a slasher fest or a horror movie night, but apparently that’s not what’s going on. I’m not thrilled.”
And though I stay over poetry and enjoy the sappy love songs, my reputation has long become the disturbed girl with serious parental issues resulting in lack of self-confidence and self-love, matched with a foul mouth and love for gore and anything dark and darker than black.
“Call it stupid but it was easier to put a mask for someone rather than to bare my soul and be judged and tossed to the side. At least, with a mask, I can throw it away and make a new one. That makes me sound so deranged but so what?”
He chuckled, crossing his legs like he was some kind of model who just had to show off that he could look like a model. “Dark but I like it.”
That was what did it for me. The moment he appreciated the darkness I presented, I thought that nothing would scare him because right then he knew that knives and blood are what keep me sane. Right then I thought that he knew what kind of mess he was getting into...or what I thought he was getting into.
“The more we talked, the more I found myself falling in love with him. I learned how he is more than the guy that he lets on to be. In ways, we were similar. We both hated being judged and so we pretend to be someone else to keep our true selves intact and untouched by the chaotic world outside and toxic people who feed on the weak and the kind.
And the more things got real, the more I wanted it. But he felt differently.”
His hand has always felt warm around mine, making me feel safe and secured. There was something about every bit of him that made me feel warm...as if I was home.
The view was nothing spectacular but the way the sun and the clouds decorated the blue sky was breathtaking in its own way. Our eyes would momentarily take a break from basking in the light and meet each other in a passionate yet brief glance, as if to make sure that we still had each other. I dreaded the moment that we would have to part…
“So you’d understand how crushed I felt when he let go of my hand because his friends were approaching us and he hasn’t told them about me for reasons I didn’t know at the moment, reasons I wished I didn’t know.
He held me as if he didn’t want to lose me. He touched me like I was a goddess he worshiped. He kissed me as if we would die tomorrow. He told me he loves me as if those were the only words he knew.
But the moment his crew gets involved, I become a girl who got obsessed with him and wanted him all to myself and he was just kind enough to actually play with me.
What kind of self-respecting woman would stay with a guy like him?”
His head hung low, eyes could not even meet mine. “What the hell was that, Jeon?” My voice was firm, trying my best not to explode and risk another unnecessary argument that I knew I could not handle at the moment. “I know you have some kind of reputation to uphold but why can’t you just tell them that we’re in a relationship? Why do you have to make it seem like I am some kind of obsessed fangirl who wouldn’t leave you alone?”
As he looked up at me, I could see that he felt guilty about it. His doe eyes always worked its charm and I would often forgive him but I could not seem to find a reason to do so.
“My self-confidence was on a different kind of low. A part of me felt as if he was just hanging me on a hook because I love him...I loved him. He liked the ego boost so he kept me. Every single time he made me feel like a stalker fangirl, I lost every bit of faith and hope that someone could love someone so messed up, that someone could appreciate the broken.
I very much thought he could and maybe he could.”
Shaking my head, I knew what I had to do and say, “I’m going. I’m sorry, Jeon. I can’t do this if you want to keep this up. I know that you have your own issues but I can’t keep on ignoring it. I can’t keep on pretending that it’s okay because it’s not. I love you. I swear, I do. Maybe even more than myself.”
I should not have glanced at him because the moment I saw that look on his face, his brown eyes pleading with me. Immediately, I looked away to avoid breaking and losing my stand. “Maybe someday, Jeon.” I paused, a brutal attempt to keep myself from breaking down. “I love you.”
Then I left.
I left before I changed my mind and decided to settle for what was there.
“As petty as it sounds, it drove me back to the darkest parts of my mind. Whatever light he brought to my life disappeared. My life drowned in pitch black again.
My family is a mess, my parents constantly breathing down my neck over every single thing and me being the constant disappointment in their golden lives. My friends expect me to be as high-achieving and goal-oriented as they are as if I have no dreams.
As stupid as it may seem, Jeon was the only one who understood me...or tried and that was more than enough.
He tried. And that’s okay.
I didn’t want to kill myself over him. I just wanted to feel a bit of physical pain to justify the emotional pain that I was going through, thinking that the break-up was too small of a thing to cry over...and wounds are more valid.
But I guess I was wrong because I had to talk about all of this again when I didn’t want to. As much as possible, I wanted to keep this all hidden and buried underneath but therapy really wants us to dig deep, right?”
Dressed in a little black dress, curly black hair clipped at the side, black boots tapping against the floor, bandaged wrists making the perfect accessory to show off while drinking a non-spiked punch―it was an outfit I had no time to plan out but it was a perfect way to show off how I feel about the entire thing...not that anyone gives a shit anyway.
Across the floor was Ms. Kang, glancing at my direction as if I was going to have a breakdown. Her eyes even got bigger than they already are just when I felt someone standing next to me. And by the look on Ms. Kang’s face, she was invested.
I knew that the older woman across the floor was not going to look away anytime soon. And I did not have to look at who stood next to me because I could very much tell by the scent that was wafting to my direction.
“Oh Jeon.”
“What do you want, Jeon?” I asked, trying to stay strong despite my own strength wavering.
He chuckled, the same cocky reaction he had whenever he knew that he had something in his grip. “You.”
“I’m not a ‘what’ and didn’t I say that we’re not getting back together until you learn to treat me like your girlfriend and not some psycho stalker?” I rolled my eyes as I took a good gulp of my drink, hoping that I seemed convincing because I did not believe anything that was coming from my lips.
He nodded, setting his cup down on the table before he held me by the shoulders and faced me towards him. “And that’s why I’m here. To make things right.” The cocky look on his face immediately melted, his hands reaching for mine. “I told my friends who you are in my life and it took me a while to realize that it didn’t matter what anyone wants to see from me. What’s important is that I’m happy and I’m happy with you.”
Arching a brow, I asked, “Really?”
“Really.” A smile stretched across his lips as a soft one appeared on mine, almost as if telling him that we were okay.
“Sometimes, love can be as simple as forgiving. May their apology be truth or lie, time can only tell and it may be too late but you did your part. But we can’t always fear forgiving and getting hurt. Let’s be honest, we learn by getting hurt. And we won’t know unless we try.
As much as I wanted to keep Jeon at arm’s length, I want to know if things will work out now because I don’t want to wake up one day regretting that I didn’t forgive the guy I truly love, especially for something that’s still fixable.”
“Why is Ms. Kang looking at me like she wants to murder me?” Jeon asked, arms cautiously wrapped around my waist.
Pressing my lips together for a while, I looked at him with a smile. “Maybe because she knows what kind of asshole you are?” I laughed.
With a confused look he asked, “What do you mean?”
“Let’s just say that I tell my therapist everything.”
synopsis: yoongi helps jungkook's girlfriend cook a meal for him and realizes he likes her.
character/s: min yoongi, reader [you], jeon jungkook
story:
After hours of being immersed into chopping up beats he couldn’t get quite right, Yoongi suddenly feels his stomach grumble. He checks his watch; it’s a few hours past lunch time.
He gets up from his chair and goes off to the kitchen to make himself a snack, or maybe a full-on meal, seeing as his breakfast has run its course and he needs proper nourishment to finally get that damn beat right. Namjoon is expecting the beat to be finalized within the week. He needs to get it ready today or he’ll cram, something he had never been fond of.
The dorm seems eerily quiet without Taehyung’s screams of anguish and Jungkook’s victorious holler after he beats the other in a game, or Hoseok’s cackling coupled with Jin’s angry babble about Namjoon getting the wrong brand of gochujang for the nth time. As much as he enjoys the quiet, he does miss the boys in their off days. Coupled with the fact that they have been spending a lot of time without him in rehearsals and promotional events, Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of suddenly wanting to punch his past self for all the times he had told the boys to leave him be.
Lost in his thoughts on his way to the kitchen, he was startled to see a familiar figure in the kitchen, fumbling around the cupboard.
Familiar blue curls bouncing on her head, Yoongi finds you, Jungkook’s girlfriend, atop a small stool propped up by the counter, looking through the cupboards, frustration and small beads of sweat on your face.
“Hey.” Yoongi says softly, greeting you. While Yoongi doesn’t mind you, and in fact, even likes her for respecting his personal space unlike Jungkook’s previous girlfriends who almost always overdid their interactions with him, he didn’t expect you in their dorm today. Jungkook must have given you a key.
You turn around, not expecting Yoongi to be awake, and suddenly jolt backwards in surprise, tumbling down quickly as the stool hasn’t been as stable as you expected.
Yoongi rushes over to you, worried.
Yoongi yells out your name, gathering you up, getting a hold of arms as he helped you up.
“I’m sorry.” Yoongi says, as you prop yourself up, dusting off some of the spilled salt that had tumbled down the stool with you.
“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you say in return, clutching onto your left arm, soothing a small ache creeping in. “I should’ve told you I was coming.”
“Are you alright?” Yoongi asks, noticing you wince after massaging your left arm. “I’ll go get some ice…”
“I’m fine, Yoongi.” you say, with a small, shy smile. “I’ve had worse at work.”
Yoongi finds himself looking at you a bit longer than he’d care for; he was worried Jungkook might throw a fit when he sees the bruise on your arm, knowing how protective he can be of you, but apart from that, he wanders off into studying your face; you had golden, tanned skin that Jungkook just wouldn’t shut up about when he had first seen you at sound check - it was where he and the rest of BTS had met you; a tough-as-nails tech coordinator working on their show, your characteristic dyed blue hair making you hard to miss, chocolate brown doe eyes that gave you a look of bewilderment almost all the time, and small but plump lips that he had seen Jungkook help himself with more times that he could count. As much as he was tired of Jungkook’s constant wax poetic about his new girlfriend, Yoongi would always find himself agreeing all the time because he was a good friend.
But was that all there is?
“Yoongi?”
Gathering all his thoughts and stuffing him at the back of his mind, way way back, Yoongi snaps out of his forbidden train of thought about his friend’s girlfriend. He faces you, putting on his usual guarded – but gentle – façade for you.
“What were you looking for up there, anyway?” Yoongi asked, grabbing the small vacuum by the sink to clean up the spilled salt on the floor.
“See, I wanted to do something nice for Jungkook.” you say, putting the untrustworthy stool back into its place by the counter. “I know he’ll be tired from rehearsals today and I want him to come home to a nice, home cooked meal. So, I thought that maybe I’d make him some.”
Yoongi smiled to himself. You wanted to cook him a meal. After rehearsals. He had to admit he’s a sucker for that kind of sweet, too. Maybe it’d be nice to come home to you making him a meal after a tiring day at Genius Lab…
“What did you plan on making?” Yoongi asked, emptying the vacuum tray into the trash.
“Kimchi Fried Rice.” you say, sheepishly, knowing you wouldn’t have pulled it off if you tried. But you could try, right?
Yoongi looked at you in amusement; you were obviously not Korean, and judging by seeing Jungkook in the kitchen often whenever you came over, it’s easy to assume that your cooking wasn’t as exemplary as he’d hoped.
“It’s not that hard.” Yoongi says, smiling, trying to sooth your evident disappointment at your own cooking skills.
“Let me help.”
You, overjoyed, scream in glee and jump into Yoongi’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck, his earrings tickling your cheek. Good thing Yoongi had caught you in time, or you’d have fallen on the floor and caused trouble for him in therapy the next day.
Yoongi’s heart could've skipped its way out of his chest; his arms around your waist, feeling your soft frame warm and close to him, messy blue curls tickling his cheek, the scent of coconut and sunshine – the scent of you – filling him in.
Damn you, Jungkook. he thought. Damn Jungkook and his luck. Damn him getting to taste her skin, hold her body, bask in her scent every day.
As much as Yoongi wanted to stay in your arms forever, he lets you go gently, easing you down as he had realized he had absentmindedly lifted you off the ground a few inches as he held you. You smiled at him, grateful.
“Let’s get started then.”
After an hour (or two), you were able to whip up some kimchi fried rice with Yoongi’s help. Knowing you would have wanted to do it yourself, Yoongi was careful to give you space and let you learn, while he guided you and gave you instructions. After all, after cooking for Jungkook for years, if there was anyone there who knew how Jungkook liked his food, it was him.
And in between these, Yoongi indulged himself, quietly. He enjoyed brushing his hand ever so slightly against yours in guiding you; He enjoyed looking at you as you moved around the kitchen checking on your rice while sautéing kimchi and onions, blue curls bouncing up after you as you went; He enjoyed laughing a bit too much at the little silly jokes you made about almost every food item you see in the kitchen; He enjoyed having you to himself, even just for a while, even if it’s for someone else.
“Jungkook always gets here first.” Yoongi says, loading the pans and the knives in the dishwasher. “You should get it ready. There’s a nice-looking blue plate on the shelf there. You can use it.”
“Thanks, Yoongi.” You say, making your way to the shelf where Seokjin kept the dishes. You take out the blue dish plate, which is, funnily enough, the same shade as your hair.
“Thank you for all of this.” You say, scooping the fried rice on the plate. “I would’ve ended up burning your beautiful kitchen if it weren’t for you. I owe you so much.”
Yoongi smiled. That hug, those jokes, these few minutes of you and just you, to him is more than enough.
“Ah, it’s nothing.” he lies, setting the dishwasher timer. “Anything for you.”
You look at him, bewildered and amused. To you, this is probably the longest you and Yoongi had spoken, probably the closest in proximity you had ever been. He was never really vocally affectionate, or affectionate at all, not unless he was made to by the boys, from what you’d seen.
After all, it was rare to be liked by Yoongi. You knew how protective he is of Jungkook, and you knew you needed to win him over from day one, since the rest of the boys didn’t take as long. Maybe you did it. Maybe you can brag to Jungkook about it later. Either way, the thought made you smile.
“…Anything for you and Jungkook, I mean.” Yoongi continues, internally beating himself up for that little slip.
And, as if right on cue, a familiar voice sets in.
“Ah, what smells good!?” Jungkook bellows from the living room, the sound of his duffel bag making a soft thud on the floor.
Jungkook follows the scent into the kitchen and finds you by the counter, scooping up what was left of the rice into the blue dish plate.
Jungkook hurriedly wraps his arms around his girlfriend’s waist, giving you small kisses on the neck as you set the pan aside.
“Hungry?” You ask, turning your head to the side to give Jungkook’s nose a small peck.
“Oh, am I?” Jungkook jokes, giving your left breast a squeeze.
Yoongi tries his best to look away. As much as he loved his dongsaeng, he wanted no more than to punch Jungkook in the face, either for his luck or for holding what should’ve been his in his arms, or for both.
“Oh, hey hyung.” Jungkook greets Yoongi, who had silently been distracting himself by serving himself some of the fried rice while he and you made a show of their affection.
“Baby, Yoongi helped me make this for you!” You exclaimed joyfully, motioning to the plate of food in front of you, as Yoongi could barely stifle a smile at how adorably your voice squeaked every time you were excited.
“She would’ve burnt down the dorm.” Yoongi jokes, making his way to the fridge for some water, as you and Jungkook laughed.
“I’ll see you guys later.” says Yoongi, with a small, somewhat forced smile, disappearing into the hallway with a bowl of rice on one hand and a bottle of water tucked in his arm. He felt a small, sharp sinking hole in his chest as he walked back into his room, into solitude.
He never wanted much, never asked for much, yet the one thing - the small simple thing he found himself wanting, was given to someone else.
1 train ride.
2 struggling souls.
3 things - Realizations. Friendship. New journey.
Where would their last stop be?
character/s: kim taehyung [ace], jade [oc]
story:
• 𝓘 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓹𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓢𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂 •
It was just one Sunday when we met. You were sitting there, staring out the window as the buildings pass us by. It was so serene. It was as if you were at peace. I had my own smile then as I stood in front of you. I couldn't hide my fondness of how you looked. So calm. I wish I was too. For moment, at least, I was. Thanks to you.
"Have a seat, miss." Your deep and husky tone brought me out of my trance. I stared at you, paling as I realized i must've looked dumb with a smile on.
"Oh! Uhm. Thanks." I stuttered back as I sat in your place, my head down, eyes on your shoes.
I couldn't raise my head up, still shy and stunned. Also because my anxiety started to creep back in as people stared when I sat. It was too much. Why is sitting down such a big deal? Should it be? What's wrong with me? But then I hear you again and everything just melts inside me. Your laugh was so cute. It made the smile creep back up my face.
My eyes still trained on your feet, I noticed how they kept on moving. You might be having a hard time balancing? The train ride is not a smooth one especially now that the trail kept making zigzags.
"Have a seat, mister." I patted the now empty space beside me, hoping that you would take the seat beside mine. You smiled down at me as you occupied the seat. Your smile is so blinding. It leaves me breathless. How can one train ride make you smile? Is it the view? Is it the fact that it's a Sunday, families buzzing on the ride as they make small talk of their one-day vacation?
How I wish I could smile genuinely like you.
• 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗶𝘁, 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂. •
It was so embarrassing how I kept missing my balance. Her eyes were always on my feet. I feel like I'm being judged. Is it too obvious that this was my first train ride ever? I must look so pathetic.
"Are you okay?" The girl asked me after some moments of silence between us. I laughed awkwardly, my sweaty palms hidden behind my neck.
"That obvious, huh?"
"Obvious?" Her eyes, my favorite shade of green that I can't put a name on, stare at me. Question marks all over her face.
"Yeah. Obvious that this was my first train ride?" My voice so low, not wanting anyone else to hear me.
"Oh, it is?" She covers her mouth as she giggles quietly. "Don't worry. It's our secret then."
She smiles so sweetly. No judgement in her voice and eyes. Why couldn't I have met her sooner? Why now when everything is-
"Hey? Don't think too much about it. Everyone has their own first experience on train rides. I did too."
Warm. So warm. The sun from the window feels so warm as she talks about her first train ride when she was in high school. She was fun to talk to. No awkward silence once she remembers another story in the middle of her current one.
"So, where's your stop?" She takes a breath as she finishes her story.
"No where. I mean-" I couldn't stop the laugh that escaped me. Her face when was priceless. And she even dare ask if I was homeless or if I ran away. She was willing to take me in, a total stranger, in her home.
Why did I have to meet her? Why just now? The year has what? More than 300 days and I had to meet her at the most unconventional time of my life.
I told her how I just wanted a look at the city from a different view since my hotel window, although better than any paintings in my hotel room, was getting too repetitive for me. Always the same view of the same city. I told her how suffocated I felt even if I was free to leave anytime. I told her how I wanted to have my windows change views every time I wake up.
"I hate routines." The train arrived at it's next stop. People come and go. "So, your stop?" I added quietly, my eyes passing by her own green ones before coming back to the train windows.
"I get down at the last station. That's where my school is. Just a few minutes of walking after this long ride."
"Last station it is, then."
• '𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝓮.•
"Last station it is, then."
A joyrider. Must have all the time in the world. Nothing but views to think of.
"A photographer?" I asked the man as I spot his camera bag.
"Hmm. You could say so, yeah, I guess?" Again, I am met with a serene smile.
A click and a flash caught me off guard. My eyes see green spots for a moment as I try to blink away the blurriness.
"Sorry about that." He chuckles as he puts his camera away.
"You shouldn't have done that. Nothing worth to see here." I gesture over my face, my palms sweating as I try to laugh my anxiety away. Not here Not now. Not even after the people has moved on from the quick flash of light from our seat. Not ever, please.
"Hey. Are you ok, miss? I'm really sorry. I just wanted a candid shot of you because-"
"Yes, I'm ok. Just not used with cameras and all. Those things hate me that they almost always break after having me as their target."
"How come? Well, I think my camera likes you. Not broken at all. See?" He takes out his camera and offers it to me.
He shows me the photo he took of me, as well as his hotel room window view. He showed me a picture of him with his dog. A picture of him and his older brothers. Pictures of other places he's been to. Beautiful. Everything he took a picture of was beautiful. Even the one he took of me. I looked normal. I looked surprised, but happy. Like I had no worries aside from the butt sore I would get from sitting down from this long train ride.
He took his camera back. He stared down at it on his lap, his serene smile never leaving his lips as my candid shot reflects on the screen. I can't help but smile as well. I laughed lightly. At least someone appreciates me even in an unconventional way.
Another stop up ahead and we fell in the most comfortable silence I have ever felt. My eyes shift to the books on her lap and some paper peaking in the middle pages of the book. Interesting. Mythology?
"Which program are you in?" I pointed towards her stack of books on her lap as I asked her.
"Literature student. And film. I'm actually taking two majors-" A sigh and a content smile on her face. "-got in both programs for being a scholar since I was younger."
"Whoa. You must be smart then. Congrats!" I offered her my hand and can't help but chuckle at how tiny her hands are. Tiny and soft. So fragile.
"What's so funny?" Her nose is scrunched up as she hits my shoulders lightly.
"Ah nothing. Your hands. They're just so small. So delicate like some kind of petal. If you squeeze too much, it might break."
She opens her hands and stretches her fingers, massaging them, a small pout on her lips.
"They'll grow longer you'll see."
"Wanna bet?" I asked, smirking her way. "Once you've written a book or published any kind of film, I should be one of the first few to see the finished product. Call?"
Her face falls and takes a deep breath.
"That might not happen anytime, mister. I might die of old age even before doing anything out of my dreams." She looks down her shoes and I noticed a tear drop on her book.
Looking at her slumped shoulders, I could not help myself from rubbing circles on her, hoping it could somehow calm her down. But her shoulders shiver even more now, hiccups irregularly escaping her every breath.
"Sorry. I'm so sorry about this. God what's gotten into me. Must be because I only got a few hours of sleep. So many papers due this month. Professors bombarding us with papers before letting us actually breathe for the summer."
I offer her my handkerchief as she starts rubbing her at her eyes angrily.
"Eyeliner-" She points at her lids. "I might get this dirty."
"Nah. You might need it for later as well. Like you said. Summer. We can't have you sweating. I need my subject all fresh and pretty." I put the handkerchief just on top of her books and look down at our shoes instead, humming quietly as she wipes her tears away.
"This is nothing. I am nothing. I won't be able to agree with the bet even if I wanted to."
"Hey. It's ok. You're ok. It might be a long train ride-" I chuckle as her eyes crinkle from giggling. "-but you'll be something. You are already something. No. Someone. A someone worth the wait at the end of the ride. You'll make it something. I trust that. At least have my trust when you feel like nothing, alright?" I point at my handkerchief as I pat her head.
'You are already being something by not running away from your dreams. You already are making something. A progress that I crave for myself.'
The train chugs on as we roll back to another silence.
• 𝓦𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓽? •
I kept my stare down, afraid of the judging eyes all around me - beside me - if I look back up. I look like a panda. Or worse, a clown. Great. I just ruined my make up. I have no time to retouch since I have reporting on my first class. What a reporter. A clown. An ugly clown who has nothing on her once the 'train ride' ends. It was always nothing.
Fighting for what I want has always been useless. I just made myself into the nothing that I am and will always be. Why did I even bother accepting the scholarship program? I won't be the writer that I want to be nor the film director that I always dream of being. I'll crash in an office job after graduation just to earn for a living. Who am I kidding. My dreams can't feed my family. I'm so selfish for wanting this when I won't be anything by then.
I can't bring myself to look up. He's something at least. He's traveling everywhere and taking the places he's visited with him.
"You're the something between us, mister." My head still down, but I saw him turn away from the window and towards me. A hum. But why does it sound so hopeless? So lost? My eyes veer away from my shoes to his. Black leather shoes. So shiny. Reminds me of his eyes.
"Something. Huh." He stands as I feel someone else take his place beside. Did I scare him Off? Only then did I look up and see him standing in front of me, he smiles down at the old lady now in his place. I smile at the lady as well as she nods and smiles towards us both.
"I might be something to someone, but I'm nothing to myself." He sighs, his smile turning melancholy as I stare up. I was about to contradict him but he surprises me as he suddenly kneels from where he stands. I avoid his eyes by looking behind me. A slight rain has made the window all blurry to see outside. I feel a sudden tug on my shoes and I look down at him.
"I'm running away from everything and making myself fall into nothing. But you? You're running into something. You might feel like it's nothing, but the fact that you're running towards something. Well. That's something. Something from the nothing like me who runs away from everything." He whispers low, only for my ears to hear.
He stands back up as I stare down at my shoes, knots tied perfectly in place, not knowing of what to make of what he just said.
• 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝗻. •
It's been silent for the past stops now. Both of us stuck with our own thoughts. But it's not awkward nor uncomfortable. Just a little heavy on the heart because just one more stop and it's the end of the track. What more is there to talk about? She said so herself that there won't be any betting. Her dreams and mine all getting further away as the train chugs forward. At least she fought somehow. I just ran and hid for as long as I can. But this has to end. Every ride has to end.
"So." She cleared her throat as the final announcement for her stop is heard over the speakers. "This is my stop, mister?"
"Ace Wilson. And please, drop the 'mister'. I graduated just a few months ago. Not as old as you think." I chuckled as I held my hands towards her, offering help her with the books.
"Jade Myers. Or just Jade. Thanks." She smiled as she put a book on my waiting palms. "Are you sure I'm not messing your schedule?" She smiles up at me, her height reaching just above my shoulders. What a tiny thing and yet she is fighting a battle. Winner or not, it's the effort that counts, right?
"Schedule? What schedule? Like I said. I'm just running away from everything. Might as well take a break from all that before I run further. There's no rush for me."
She leads the way. The road, or rather the gravel path, making scrunching noises every stomp of our foot. It was enough noise to cover the silence we've wrapped our self into.
• 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 •
(click for song inspiration of this story)
I look up at him, my eyes squinting close because of the sun, as we near my school gates.
Just a name and his little stories. That's all there is to him. Questions he will leave though. Questions that I will be facing after losing my fight.
Will he start his own battles when I end mine? Would his run bring him somewhere? Would I meet him again someday when I start running away, or 'if' I run away? Will I stop where he is if I do run? What then? Why stop?
I may know his name, but he will remain a stranger to me.
"Thanks again, Ace." I grab my book from him as I wave goodbye, entering the school gate. He stands there, his serene smile back from when I first saw him. Back from where we started.
I wish I rode a different train cart. Or maybe I should've never rode a train in the first place. I could've ridden a plane and flew back to where people were waiting for me. I could've stayed home and not get lost. I could've continued fighting even if I see myself losing. At least I fought and lost with no regrets. There is harm in trying, but there is also knowledge. Knowing that you fought though you knew your fate is a win in itself. You at least fought. Your fall would not be in vain.
Why did I have to meet Jade in the most inconvenient time. She left me with regrets. But also a new found determination to fight. I will keep running. But this time, I will run towards my dream. I'll fight if I have to.
• 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓹𝓼 𝓪𝓬𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓶.•
The thought of just running away keeps climbing up my 'to-do list' once I graduate. Should I really just run from the reality my family wants to thrust upon me and go for what I want instead? Yes. Yes I do want to run. I want to be what I want to be. I want to continue being selfish. I want to keep fighting. Is the fight and the run worth all that I'll leave behind?
My heels clack on the corridor as I run to my first class. Looking like a clown for my smudged make up, but who the fuck cares? I've decided to fight. The smudge got nothing on the blood I will shed for my win. I can always wipe it all away.
A serene smile left my own lips as I dug his handkerchief out of my pocket. Yes, I can always wipe away the blood shed and run.
I want to feel the wind on my face and fingertips. I want the shiver of excitement. I want to feel. I want to be free.
And I will be, because I'm running away.
I open the door to the classroom and I know that my run has begun. No turning back. The whistle started the race.
I'm running away.
• 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓮, 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝓽𝓸𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻? •
Strangers.
Having different tracks, but the ride would end at the same station. Not once but twice would their fates collide. But for now one train is moving onward and the other stops at a station. But they will again meet at the end of the track.
For now, they are simply Jade Myers and Ace Wilson.
You and Jin have been throwing one snarky retort after the other to each other since this morning, as he was incredibly annoyed with you for forgetting to pick up his favorite blazer from the dry cleaners. You were mad at him. You didn’t think one blazer was worth all the trouble, especially when he has hundreds in his walk-in closet.
“I said I was sorry, Jin!” you say, exasperated at his passive-aggressive mumbling as he tried to find another blazer to wear. “I’ve told you days before this.” Jin said, firmly, voice bigger than before, “I reminded you everyday. Hell, I even emailed you!”
Out of anger that he could barely contain, he grabs a handful of hangers and throws them against the wall. You were shook, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Jin, who was just as shaken as you are with what he did, automatically scans his bedroom for you, worried as he knew you how easily startled you tend to be.
He finds you frozen, feet planted on the floor, hands shaking as you stood by his bed. You couldn’t move. Tear after tear fell from your eyes, and once you see Jin making his way to you, you decide you wanted nothing to do with him and you turn away to leave. Jin grabs you by the arms and pulls you to him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” he says, his voice no longer the frightening, booming voice you’d heard all morning, and back to the gentle voice you always knew and loved. “Mistakes happen and I-”
“I’m sorry, Jin.” you say, weakly. “I still have time to drive to the cleaners. I’ll be back in a few.” You pull yourself off of him, grabbing your keys off the nightstand.
Jin, hurt that he’d scared you the way he promised never to, sat on the bed, mentally beating himself for his own shallowness. Maybe he'll give Namjoon a call and tell him he can’t make it. No show was ever worth more than she was.
You knew Yoongi was always busy with work, especially now that he had been tapped to produce for one of his favorite rappers. You knew he wouldn’t have time for your work woes. But then again, you also knew that every time something is wrong, Yoongi always knew how to make you feel better. Whether you like it or not, you knew you needed him.
You climbed upstairs to his work studio. You took one quick peek into the window, and seeing Yoongi bobbing his head back and forth, while quickly scribbling a few lyrics into a notepad in between, made you heart flutter. Yoongi was always good in everything he did. You could only wish you were, too.
“Yoongles?” you call out, the silly little nickname you gave him that he appears to hate but secretly enjoy. You approach his table quietly, giving his desks a few taps to announce your presence.
“Hey, babe.” he says, with a smile, brushing your hair behind your ear and pulling you into his lap.
“How was the pitch?” he joyfully asks, knowing how hard you’ve worked crafting the presentation for your story concepts.
He must have noticed your face fall a little, since he pulls you close, stroking your hair. “You’ll get them, next time.” he says, softly.
“It’s unfair, that’s all!” you say, dejectedly. “They approved my stories, but they’re getting someone else to work on them!” You went on about the lazy Iris who gets to produce the shows, how much you haven’t slept, how you felt like the worst writer in the world, on and on for almost half an hour until Yoongi snaps. He knew how good you were, and you needed to believe that.
“Look, if you want to make it into an industry, you have to make an effort to step up. Tell them that they either need to let you work on your stories, or they can go to hell. None of this sorry bullshit.” Yoongi says, angrily, for you and at you.
You were startled, and a bit scared, as you’ve never seen Yoongi this angry about something. Sure, Tae and Kook can get into his nerves sometimes, and he have yelled at them, but not to you. Never to you.
“I-I…”
Yoongi, who seemed to have calmed down after hearing you stammer, apologetically stroked your cheek. “Look, love,” he says, “If you want to make it, you’re going to have to be tough. These things happen a lot, and worse. You’re allowed to be disappointed, but never, ever pull yourself down. You’re all you’ve got.”
You sigh and rest your head on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Don’t yell at me like that again.” you say, “I get enough yelling at work. But I do get your point.”
“I’m sorry, love.” Yoongi says, giving you a quick peck on the forehead. “No more yelling.”
Namjoon has set up everything perfectly. He filled the couch with pillows, popped your favorite popcorn in the microwave, and lined up Friends on Netflix.
All that’s missing is you.
You were rushing to gather up all your things before your supervisor found you. You knew he almost always gives you more assignments when you’re ready to leave, and today, you can’t afford any of this as you have a date with Namjoon, the first one since he got back from tour. You told him you’ll be home in less than an hour.
You were almost out of your office when you heard your supervisor call out to you. One more revision, she says.
You sigh. You might as well tell Joon you’ll be late. Again.
One revision, and then two, and then five. After some time, you were free to go so you rushed home to Joon. You must have lost track of time when you find Joon asleep on the couch, a bowl of popcorn untouched in front of him, and the Netflix screen wondering aloud if you were still watching (not like you have been, in the first place).
You felt terrible as you sat down next to a sleeping Joon and gave him an apologetic kiss on his cheek.
Joon, feeling the tingle of your lips on his cheek, wakes up.
“Hi beautiful.” he says.
You pull him into you, apologizing profusely for being late, hours late, at that
“I’m so sorry Joon.” you say, almost in tears.
Namjoon smiles.
“You need a new boss, jagi.”
Hobi is over the moon today. Bruno Mars has personally contacted him for a collab for his next record. He can’t believe this. He had practically worshipped him in his trainee days. And now, he’ll be working with him!
After gloating this achievement to the rest of the band, with Namjoon practically almost green-faced in envy, the rest of the boys are proud of him nonetheless.
He immediately drove home to tell you.
“Jagi!” Hoseok probably yelled as he took his shoes off by the door. “I have the biggest news!”
You, on the other hand, is slumped over the kitchen table, stacks of paper all around, exhausted after a night’s worth of editing work. You have seven manuscripts to edit, with less than seven hours left.
Hoseok finds you napping on a manuscript, a marker still in hand. His face falls. He hates seeing you overworked.
He gently taps your shoulder. “Jagi?” he asked, gently. “Have you slept at all?”
You shoot up and see Hoseok with a worried look on his face. He’s home? You ask yourself. How long has it been?
“I’m sorry sweetie.” you tell him. But before you can give Hoseok the kiss you owe him for the day, you remember your manuscript and panic sets in.
“Oh shit!” you scream, “What time is it?”
“Jagi, I-”
“Not now, Hoseok, I have three hours to submit the last one! What was I thinking? Power nap my ass-”
“Jagi just a few-”
“Hoseok, please. I need to finish these or I won’t get paid! Unlike you, I don’t get millions by the hour!” you snap, hurriedly looking for your last manuscript buried under the ones you’ve finished.
Hoseok backs away from you, hurt, but understanding. She’s just tired, he says to himself, trying to calm the sinking hole in his chest.
“I’ll come back when you’re done, jagi.”
You had just been promoted today and you can’t wait to tell Jimin about it. Ever the supportive and patient partner, Jimin stood by you through sleepless nights and coffee binges, and now the fruit of your hard work has paid off.
Jimin, on the other hand, also had wonderful news for you. He and his band are going on their first world tour, and he has made arrangements to fly you off into his tour destinations. He knew you’d been wanting to travel and he wanted you close, of course.
You practically ran into his arms as you got into your apartment.
“Someone’s in a good mood today.” Jimin says, smiling, taking a whiff of your peach-scented hair, one of his favorite scents.
“You wouldn’t believe what happened today!” You exclaimed. “My story concepts have been approved. We’re filming in a few weeks!”
Jimin’s face fell. In a few weeks. It means you’ll have to stay and work on your show. It means he can’t bring you with him on tour. All the trips you’ll be having, all the nights in the fancy hotels drinking wine and making love, gone.
Despite the sinking hole in his chest, Jimin forces a smile. He loves you so much and is proud of you for finally getting the break you deserve. But why does it hurt?
Thoughts racing in his head at the moment. Work has never been an issue in your relationship.
Will it be now?
“I am so proud of you!” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear.
Something’s up, you tell yourself. Jimin, being the excited kitten he is, would’ve been over the moon about this. He had sat with you through all those sleepless nights, and even made layouts for your deck even if he had rehearsals early in the morning. You look at Jimin. His lips were stretched into a smile, but something was missing in his eyes. He looked… deflated.
“Jimmy?” you ask. “Is there something wrong?”
Jimin continues to stifle the sinking hole in his chest. He can’t even tell you he’s going on a world tour. He can’t even tell you that given the state of things, you’ll be away from each other, for over a year.
Jimin pulls you to him and holds you so tight he lifts you off the ground. These are the last few days he has with you, he better make the count.
“I’m just tired, sunshine.” he said, with a small smile on his face.
“I’ll bring out the wine. This calls for a celebration.”
Tae can’t help but fidget with the cuffs of his sleeves. He had asked the production assistant for the fifth time if he had seen you. His phone was locked up in the dressing room. He and the boys are about to step out into the Billboard Awards red carpet.
“I thought she’ll be your date today?” Namjoon asks, dusting off some lint off Tae’s shoulder.
“She is.” Tae says, coldly. “At least I thought she was.”
“Oh come now, Tae.” Hobi says, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m sure the soft launch took longer than she expected.”
Wait, the what?
“Launch?” Tae asks Hobi, bewildered.
A look of terror, then annoyance, wipes across Hobi’s face. He had promised her he wouldn’t tell Tae, not today, at least. This was a big thing for him, for the boys. Their first foreign awards show.
Her small book was nothing compared to that.
“Sorry, Tae.” Hobi explains. “She told me she didn’t want to spoil your excitement for the BBs. She was launching her little book at a friend’s book convention today.”
Tae didn’t know how to feel. How could she not have told him? She has been dreaming of finally publishing her little book of short stories - short stories she would always read to him while he laid on her lap after a tiring day of rehearsals. Short stories she had been dreaming to share.
How could she think he wouldn’t want to know?
The awards show begins and while the rest of the boys are enjoying a performative number from Billie Eilish, Tae sat on his seat miserable. He was proud of her book - he’d have very easily blown off the Billboards to be with her there! He glanced at the seat next to him, sadly.
“Hey!” he hears Namjoon greet somebody. Tae looks up and sees her, in a lovely Versace mini dress that he had picked out for her, sneakily making her way into her reserved seat. She gives him a peck on the cheek, but notices that Tae doesn’t smile like he always does.
Tae was quiet the whole show, and the only time he spoke or smiled was when the cameras were on him, and when fans waved to him from the audience. Hobi, feeling guilty for his unintentional involvement in the situation, did his best to accommodate her, cracking a joke or two about Jin’s choice of earrings.
“He looks like a goth Christmas tree.” Hobi whispers, as she stifles a laugh.
Jin smacks him on the back of the head. “That’s because you have no sense of sophistication.”
But that was it for Tae. He was hurt and angry that she could go on as if she didn’t know. Fuming, he got up and walked out.
Namjoon, noticing Tae storming off into the unknown, whispered to her.
“I think you need to talk.”
She hurries up the steps to catch up to Tae. He had been cold to her since she arrived, and she was desperate to know what was wrong.
“Sweetie? Tae?” she calls, softly.
Tae loved the little chirpy voice she’d use whenever she’d call out to him. He wanted to smile, pinch her cheeks, and tell her how lovely she looked, but he was angry, and she needed to know.
“So, Hobi knows and I don’t?” he said, seething, trying his best not to raise his voice.
Her face fell as she realized. She wanted to tell Tae, of course. Of all people, she wanted him there.
But she knew her place.
“Tae, I’m sorry. This was a big thing for you and I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”
“AND YOU THINK YOU AREN’T?” Tae exclaimed.
“You know I would drop anything for you. Your book-”
“I’m sorry, Tae.”
“So,” he began, obviously ticked, “What else aren’t you telling me?”
You usually loved working on BTS’ music videos, as they are exactly what you see - colorful and fun. But, for the first time since you began working with them, you never thought the day would come that you’d dread it.
The set looked like a Victoria’s Secret catalogue. Leggy blonde and brunettes in cheerleader uniforms sat side by side on the bleachers, as BTS sang and danced their new song in the middle of a football field. Jungkook sees you by the tech booth, next to the director. He smiles proudly. He loved seeing you in that headset.
You refuse to smile back at him, since no one knew you were together. Well, except Namjoon. And Jin. And the whole band, really.
You snap out of it as the director yelled his instructions to the boys.
“Jungkook, hold Kaia’s hands and dance with her.” he says, as Jungkook politely asks for Kaia’s hands, which Kaia replies with a smile. He twirls her around, with her giggling as Jungkook dances her around in a goofy waltz.
After one take, she watched Jungkook head over to the craft service table to get himself a can of cola. She tried to focus on work, but couldn’t help but glance over to Jungkook by the table, this time joined by Kaia. They were happily in a conversation, with Jungkook looking like he’s telling her a really funny story that she was gleefully enjoying. You try to shrug it off.
“Always the ladies man, isn’t he?”
Startled, you turn around and see Namjoon, smiling at you, relishing the jealousy plastered on your face.
“Of course he is.” you say, as nonchalantly as you could. “It’s his job.”
After a day’s work, you join some coworkers for a coffee break. You make your way to the craft service table for a refill when Jungkook slyly stands next to you, pretending to get a drink.
“Hey.” Jungkook says, in a voice audible only to the both of you. “You look so sexy in those headphones. Maybe you should direct me later.”
“Go away.” you say, quietly. “Maybe I should direct you and Kaia. She’s a good actress.”
Jungkook smiles. “Damn, are you jealous?”
You walk away from him, intent on getting back to your team. But Jungkook drags you to an empty makeshift dressing room.
“Leave me alone, Cooke.” you say, unintentionally calling him by the nickname you’d jokingly suggested to be his screen name.
“Darling…” he says, half smug, half pleading.
“Don’t you ‘darling’ me!” you say.
You shoot him a look. Rather than look sad and apologetic, the damn bastard was stifling a smile. He was enjoying it!
You turn away to leave, but Jungkook grabs you by the arm and pulls you in for a kiss. It was slow, sweet, but slowly turning into a level of passion you just can’t have at the moment.
genre: supernatural, short story, fan fiction, smut
synopsis: patience is not his strongest suit.
character/s: min yoongi, raven [oc]
story:
Slender fingers moved across the keys as he played 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑛’𝑠 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑒-𝐼𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑢 𝑂𝑝. 66—a piece that he had been fond of playing ever since 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢 appeared in the mansion. The piano room became his sanctuary whenever he was granted a free time from the hectic schedule of being a Warden to the host of 𝑊𝑟𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑹𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏.
The demon first appeared as an older woman named 𝐍𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚, who acted more like a governess with firm rules. But Yoongi has shown a different side as a Warden—a bit more quiet with a mischievous streak but easily upset. And Raven’s playful nature had not been helpful lately.
Every note danced in the air as the melody filled the empty spaces and corners of the piano room, as if sweeping off the dust that covered almost everything. The sliver of moonlight that peeked through the small gap between the velvet curtains made his pale skin glow.
The click and clack coming from an expensive pair of stilettos did not go unnoticed as Yoongi knew that sound like the back of his hand. He was well-aware that his peace would soon be disturbed and there was nothing he could do about it, as he was bound to stay as long as he is needed. The sound only got louder and louder, cutting through the music that he kept on playing.
❝I knew I’d find you here.❞ Her voice still had that childish tone, almost as if she was whining. And it was one of the things that Yoongi hated about the girl. The list goes on but her whiny tone was on top of the list. ❝I heard that you’re going to pick up Blaire. You know that you can’t do that.❞ Even without looking at her, Yoongi could hear the annoyance that was seeping through her words but it did not keep him from continuing the piece and not letting go of his momentum.
Skillful fingers worked its way across the keys as if he was running a marathon and the finish line was in sight. Frustration was etched on his face as he tried to deny that he felt something with the way her fingers traced the line of his arm, and her lips leaving feather kisses on his pale skin. He was already bitter and spiteful as he is only to be fueled by a mere host’s actions in a pathetic attempt to have power over him.
Finally accepting that he already lost his pace, he slammed both of his hands on the keys, a mess of uncoordinated notes echoing in the almost empty room. ❝Didn’t I tell you never to test my patience, Raven?❞ His voice sounded deeper than the usual tone that he used for Yoongi. There was an evident tinge of anger, frustration, and impatience.
The girl scoffed as she pressed her lips on the demon’s neck. ❝And what? Let you go to that minx just so you could fuck her?❞ She whispered, words passing through gritted teeth. A growl escaped her lips the moment she pulled away and turned on her heels to walk away from him. Her tanned fingers brushing through her raven hair as she huffed at the mere thought of Yoongi with the host of 𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑, 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞.
❝And why does that bother you?❞ He turned to the girl, his sharp eyes narrowing at the girl clad in a red dress matched with a pair of red stilettos. There was fire burning in his dark almost cat-like eyes, but no longer just anger but with a spark of something more. ❝Can’t a Warden look for fun while I’m stuck in this damned place?❞ He arched a brow at her as he stood up, heavy steps going towards her.
Her own dark eyes glared at the demon at the sound of the question that she wished she did not have to hear from him. ❝Are you fucking kidding me, Yoongi? You’re here to train me and not to screw one of the tenants!❞ she exclaimed, her patience starting to run empty. It had been a rough month of training and the new vessel that is her current body has still not grown accustomed to the intensity that it needed to adapt, in order to accomplish her future missions and tasks.
❝Exactly.❞ His voice was firm yet it dripped with an unfamiliar teasing tone, something he has not used before. ❝But us Wardens are stuck babysitting you brats. The least we can do is find something to entertain us.❞ He took one last step, leaving them with a couple of inches of space to breathe and to gather their hazy thoughts. His hand went over to her hip, roughly pushing her against the wall. ❝If you don’t want me to look somewhere else, then that means you’ll be my source of entertainment.❞
Raven, the girl with flames in her eyes, found herself helpless in the hands of her Warden. Never did she think that she would be that close to the demon who torments her on the daily basis with rigorous training sessions that leave her body sore for days. She had a fear for the man who only showed up a month ago and yet has already managed to rattle her confidence.
Yoongi is a man of few words and so whenever he gets a little chatty, it was more than a miracle. But there were things better done that said, especially when it was with someone who he believed to be within his reach.
Leaning down, his lips pressed against her soft tan skin. Self-control was something he has never been good at and he was not about to start learning about it then, not when the girl’s hand was already gripping on his arm. ❝Yoongi,❞ she moaned his name as his kisses grew hungry against her skin, leaving a couple of bruises as a mark of her punishment. As much as he craved to leave more, he had nothing to prove to anyone as it was evident that the girl was wrapped around his finger.
As his fingers found the hem of her dress, he immediately pulled it off of her only to be blessed by her bare body. The corner of his lips tugged up to a smirk, not even hiding the fact that he found it interesting that the girl wore nothing underneath. A growl seeped through his gritted teeth, his hands roughly gripping on her hips as he finally closed in the gap by claiming her lips in his for a torrid kiss that spoke of his hunger. His hands wandered every crook and curve of her body while his lips explored every inch of her skin, leaving nothing untouched.
It was not long until Yoongi’s own clothes were thrown across the room, leaving him just as bare and exposed. A string of messed-up notes echoed through the room when he accidentally set her down the keys rather than the bench. With that, a laugh escaped her red lips. ❝Never pegged you as the clumsy one, Min.❞ Her voice dripped of honey, her lips planting kisses on his bare chest and even leaving a mark right above where his heart would be if he had one.
Not that thrilled to be marked by the host, Yoongi tightly gripped on her hips with his thumb pressing her against the bench. Without any warning, he easily thrusted in with how her natural juices already dripped down her inner thighs. His movement was fueled by desire and unchained respect for rules. He did not care if he was only supposed to guard and train her because her velvet walls clenching around his entire length said that she did not mind, too.
Perfectly manicured nails dug through his skin, both pleading for control and begging for more. But he was only granting one of her requests.
With her slender legs wrapped around his waist, he sunk deeper into her core. Her hands travelled on his pale skin as she never thought she would see him in that kind of way. Groans and cusses slipped past his parted lips as his hips continued to move in his tasted pace. ❝Fuck.❞ He groaned, leaning forward to capture her lips once again. He winced when he felt her bite on his lower lip, making him pull away a little. Before his frustration erupted, the melodious sound of her moans and whimpers reached his ears. It was pure ecstasy.
❝As much as I want to hear you beg and plead for me, we have an early training tomorrow morning.❞ His voice was breathy as he stumbled on his words. His dark eyes scanned the mess that he made her to be and he could only be prouder once he sees her fall apart at the seams. His movements were still polished despite the roughness but he could feel the familiar tension that comes when he was almost at his peak, and the way her walls clenched around his length told him that she was just a thrust away from hers.
For the first time, Yoongi was glad that he was a demon with endless stamina. His eyes was glued to the masterpiece that he had created—her tan skin glowing with sweat, her eyes glistening with desire, her nails digging on his back, her lips singing his name.
When everything fell silent other than the sound of her uneven breathing, the haze in her mind slowly faded and it finally sunk in. Her lips trembled as it parted when she tried to say something but the man interrupted.
❝Don’t forget, five in the morning,❞ her firmly said as he buckled his belt. He looked around for his shirt before throwing it on. ❝And I don’t appreciate it if you are late.❞
With his words, the weariness faded. Her eyes widened as she just finished up putting on her dress and was in the process of collecting her stilettos from two different sides of the piano room. ❝Are you kidding me?❞ she exclaimed.
❝Do I look like I’m kidding?❞ He raised a brow at her as he opened the door, one foot out the door.
Her brows furrowed as she stomped her way towards him. ❝Fuck you,❞ she said through gritted teeth before she walked out of the room and to the direction of her bedroom which was at the end of the hall.
Seeing the girl on edge like that was a different kind of entertainment for Yoongi. Getting her agitated due to training is something but everything about her that night was better. ❝I’d like that some time, sweetheart!❞
synopsis: time is gold and can’t be paused...so talk.
character/s: min yoongi, reader [you]
story:
Night after night, your work consumed you. Sometimes, it felt normal as if it was just some crazy routine that you got used to, but more often is it a bad habit that you have no courage to break. Fueled by coffee in such a fast-paced industry made you an obvious workaholic, but no one could force you to take a break...not even your boyfriend.
But that was a different case. Your boyfriend, Yoongi, happens to be the exact same as you—life driven by work as if you were being held at gunpoint if you stop. He did not mind that you worked 'till late because he was doing the same. It did not bother you that he missed dates and forgets special occasions because you often do as well. Neither of you were active enough in your relationship these days that during those brief idle moments in your life, that goes a second or two, you wonder what it was like before things have gotten crazy.
That was the thing, your work has always been this demanding just as his, too. But lately, both of you reminisce the early days of your relationship as you long for that feeling. It was not that you no longer love each other because despite the busy schedule and brief conversation, the glimmer of that spark remains. It just happens to be resting rather than burning...and that might not be a completely bad thing.
For the first time in a long while, you finished your tasks early and without immediate revisions or any awaiting new set of tasks. It was a miracle and you were gladly to take it with the thought of more hours of rest—a well-deserved present for all of your hard work. You dropped by at the convenience store to grab a few snacks to eat, while you watch an episode or two of the series you have wanted to check, before you headed straight home.
Surprisingly, Yoongi was home early, too.
His cat-like eyes grew a little as your presence was the last thing he thought to have at such an hour. He gave you a smile as he went over to help you with the couple of bags that you were carrying.
"I didn't know you were home, I should have gotten more snacks," you apologized as you set your bag down and started to settle in.
He placed the bags on the living room table where a bunch of snacks were already laid out. "I also got some because I didn't think you'd be home this early. That's new."
"I could say the same thing about you." You smiled. "Wait. I'll just freshen up and then we can watch anything." You took a quick shower, something that has always relieved a stressful day out of your skin, then changed into more comfortable clothes—a large shirt that you stole from Yoongi and old sweatpants—perfect for the rainy night.
The two of you settle on the sofa and start to look for a common ground on what you would watch for the night, ending up with a family comedy to contrast the loud rain. The movie made you both laugh...until the power went off right before the resolution of the story.
And for a moment, you sat quietly in the dark.
Yoongi cleared his throat as he stood up to get the lamp and placed it in the middle of the room. And with the silence, you realized how loud the rain was and so you hurriedly checked the news that was already reporting about the storm.
A sigh left your lips as you stared at the television that had gone dark and the table of snacks that you felt had gone to waste. Of all nights that could have ended dark and cold, did it really have to be the night when you finally have the time to unwind?
"Hey. How was your day?" Yoongi asked to break the deafening silence. It was kind of rare for Yoongi to be the one who starts the conversation since you were the chatty one in the relationship, but it was appreciated nevertheless.
It had been a while since the two of you had a talk, may it be small talk or something serious and yet despite that fact, it did not feel awkward at all. With a soft smile, you went on to tell him about your day. "My butt hurts from sitting on that damned chair for hours just to end up with four mediocre concepts because mine was too realistic." Your work truly frustrated you at times but you just could not find the will to leave and to quit because you honestly enjoyed it, too. "Surprisingly, there were no additional tasks. What about you?" You asked as you grabbed a pack of strawberry Pocky and started to munch on it. "What about you? You're home early."
He was already on his second bottle of cold brew, leaning a little closer to you. "They kinda forced me to go home early since I got locked out of the studio." There was a hint of frustration in his voice as he recalled how they practically pushed him out of the door, telling him how he needed to get a day off.
"You got what?" You laughed, trying to imagine how he might have looked as he stood in front of his beloved studio without any means to get in. "I would love to see you locked out."
If it were the other guys teasing him, he would probably answer back with a sharp response but it was you. It was always different with you. "Don't get any ideas of locking me out of the apartment."
No matter how mundane it seemed, talking to each other has always been something you both enjoyed. Sharing about what went on about your day was refreshing and reminiscent of your early days of being together. Having stressful jobs kind of takes a toll on the two of you and talking it out at the end of the day was quite a good way of relieving it and taking all of the weight on your shoulders.
"As much as I love Namjoon, he can be such a child at times." She shakes her head as they talked about his friends whom you have grown close to as well.
Yoongi's eyes widened as he listened to your stories about how you were starting to stand up for yourself when your boss abuses your hard work. "Wow. I'm so proud of you for knowing your worth."
The sound of the heavy rain and strong winds outside seemed to blur into a background noise of every story and opinion that you exchanged. With that, you also demolished your snack table. As it seemed, you did not need a movie to be entertained because he was way more interesting than any movie on your to-watch list.
It was almost two in the morning that you found yourselves cuddled up on the sofa in complete silence, waiting for someone to break it. "I wish most nights are like this," you whisper, soft voice dancing into the breeze. "Not the storm but talking to you and spending time with you."
To answer you, Yoongi gave you a gentle squeeze as he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your head. "We can always be like this if not for our schedules." An exasperated sigh slipped past his lips. "But maybe we can start making time for each other. I know it can't be every day but I'd love to know about your day as often as we can."
Your lips stretched to a smile just by hearing his suggestion, glad that you were not the only one thinking about it. "I would love that, too."
Yoongi held your hand to intertwine your fingers, bringing your hand closer to his lips as he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand.
It was those soft and pure moments that you have forgotten for a moment because both of you were so wrapped up in the things that take most of your time.
It was not that love was gone but you were people who valued work above most things, thinking that nothing else matters as much. But one stormy night was able to remind you that being with each other is more important than any of your jobs combined.
Time is gold because no one can go back once it passes. Most times people take time to do things because they believe that there is a time for everything. That may be true but that does not mean that time stands still. Life is a huge task that demands people to multi-task because no one can pause an aspect of their life and expect it to still be there when they are ready. And that night, you both realized that you need to make time no matter how hectic your schedules could be...because amidst all the chaos in your life, being with each other makes you happy.
something sweet to chase the bitter [jeon jungkook]
writer: ichigo
genre: short story, fan fiction, scenario
synopsis: banana socks are in style.
character/s: jeon jungkook, reader [you]
story:
Saying you ‘love’ coffee is an understatement. You practically lived for coffee. In the morning before work, in the midday not to fall asleep, and at night before bed. Coffee very easily cures your soul.
And due to your love for coffee, you always did your work at a coffee shop. Readily available coffee? Air conditioning with wafts of coffee aroma? Sign me in!
Jungkook, however, is not entirely a fan of coffee, if it weren’t for you. You’d always order him the milkshakes, frappes, iced tea - sweetness that contradicts the bitter; just like you and him.
Today, you had to spend the whole day editing a manuscript for your commissioning editor. You tucked yourself away in the corner most nook of the cafe, your face half buried in your laptop, with some music on your ears… and your third Venti cup. After hours of words strewn on a screen, you lean back and sigh.
“Boo!” you hear behind your neck.
You shoot up, startled, only to see Jungkook laughing.
“You piece of shit!” you say. Jungkook smiles and gives you a kiss on the forehead.
“Hello chocolate chip.” he says, eyeing the empty coffee glasses on your table.
“That bad, huh?”
“I’m almost done anyway.” you say. “I’m hungry.”
“Maybe you should stop working.” Jungkook says with a laugh. “I’m rich enough for the both of us.”
You shoot him a glare.
“I’m no trophy wife.” you say, proudly. “I have a college degree.”
Jungkook laughs and proceeds to get up and order. “Sandwich or cookie?” he asks on his way out.
“Both.”
You shortly go back to your editing when a cheerful - good-looking - barista greets you while cleaning off the table next to yours.
“Hello ma’am.” he says, with a smile, as he spritzes some disinfectant onto the table.
He’s kinda cute, you thought to yourself.
His eyes adorably crinkles when he smiles! And he’s in chinos and loafers too. How classy. Jungkook would never be caught wearing those. And banana-print socks! How-
“I got you three of each because you have the appetite of a T Rex when you’re stressed.” you hear Jungkook say as he put down the tray of sandwiches and cookies next to your laptop, but you hardly hear him as you’re still quite taken with the barista, now three tables away, casually whistling as he puts away empty cups from another table.
Jungkook must have noticed this because he suddenly haphazardly closes your laptop.
“What the hell Guk!” you yell, hurriedly opening the laptop, worried you might lose your progress. “I was almost done!”
“Please, that thing Autosaves.” he says, taking a sip of his latte. “But if you lose whatever that is maybe you can ask your barista for some help.”
Thankfully, you have a habit of repeatedly, almost obsessively, hitting the Save button every few minutes. Your work was fine. Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t.
You laugh.
“Oh my God.” you say, in a mocking tone, “The superstar Jungkook, Golden Maknae, Sold Out King, jealous of a barista!?”
“No, I’m not.” he says, barely audible, fumbling over his fancy phone, pretending to be busy.
You continue to laugh. Jungkook always enjoyed you being jealous of fans and female idols.
Now’s your chance to get back at him.
“I mean, he is cute.” you say, further mocking Jungkook’s petty jealousy.
This must have triggered something in Jungkook as he exclaimed, “Cute? That?”
“His shoes don’t even complement those ridiculous socks!”
“Just because it’s not fashionable to you, doesn’t mean it’s not fashionable.” you say, casually, taking a bite of your cookie.
“Yah! Will that guy stay up with you all night just to keep you company while you’re working? Will he give you his jacket when it’s cold? Will he escape practice just to steal a kiss from you?” he muses, annoyed.
“You’re really going there, Guk?” you ask, mildly amused.
“If you want that style then I’ll wear them!” he says, almost angrily.
“Just don’t look at him.”
You took one good look at Jungkook. He was sulking, arms crossed, looking away.
“You are such a baby!” you say, trying to pull him to you. He pushes your arms away.
“Well, you are a baby, but you’re my baby.” you coo, giving Jungkook a peck on the cheek. He smiles.
“Don’t look at someone else, please.” he says, softly, his eyes almost pleading.
“I was just kidding Guk.” you say, locking your hands with his. He gives you a small, soft kiss.
“But you should really consider banana-print socks.”
The sky grew darker and your heart grew heavier every second that passed with the door tightly closed. With gritted teeth and hands clenched into fists on either of your side, you looked down as you took deep breaths in the hopes of calming down. But tears started to flood your eyes and you ended up curling on the sofa, asleep with a heavy feeling.
It was around midnight when you were awakened by the sound of the door being slammed. You stayed in the position that you were in, just following the figure that made his way to the room. It was more than five minutes when you heard him walking towards the couch. There was silence until you heard him say your name.
You did not move, thinking that maybe he would think that you were asleep and he would just head to the room.
But you just heard him say your name again, firmer that time as if he spoke through gritted teeth.
There was no other choice left but to admit that you were indeed awake. You slowly sat up, avoiding his gaze. The silence was deafening, terrifying even. It was rare for the space between the two of you to be quiet as both of you enjoy talking about a lot of things.
You heard Namjoon sigh. “Are you seriously still ignoring me for canceling the other day?” He brushed his fingers through his dark hair as he bit on the inside of his cheek.
You slightly shook your head, not wanting to say anything about the matter anymore. It was starting to feel like it was your fault for feeling bad. And maybe you were just overreacting.
“Why can’t you look at me? Why won’t you talk to me? (Your name)...” He sighed. “You know how hectic our schedule can be and that I can’t always leave even if I want to.” He almost sounded like he was pleading for you to understand him.
But you do.
As your silence continued, it only frustrated Namjoon. “Why can’t you understand me? You knew what I do for a living before we started dating.” He sighed as he leaned on the wall, his back feeling the cold concrete.
The silence that followed was deafening but neither of you spoke. Namjoon’s habit of biting on the inside of his cheek was something he often does out of stress and it seemed worse at the moment. You, on the other hand, looked down in the hopes that he would not see tears budding at the corner of your eyes.
Your hands were clenched into fists, lips pressed into a straight line, and eyes squeezed shut. You were tempted to open your mouth to speak but you could feel that only a squeak would come out.
“(Your name)...” The way he said your name was like bidding goodbye.
And for the first time since he stepped inside of your shared apartment, you looked at him as tears flooded your eyes. “I’m--” You took a deep breath as you stood up, trying your best not to explode with the sudden wave of emotions. “I’m sorry,” was all you managed to say, at first.
Namjoon looked at you and his eyes grew wide at the sight of your face, with tears starting to stream down your face. He opened his mouth to say something but you immediately spoke, “I’m sorry if I asked for a little bit of your time, Namjoon. I’m sorry if I wanted to spend even an hour with you on our 1-year anniversary.” Your voice cracked at the end, making you even more emotional.
You sat on the couch once again, feeling your knees getting weak. “If I have an option not to feel bad, I would. I would, Namjoon. I really would.” You sighed, trying to calm yourself even just a bit. “I never thought I’d be with someone and I, most certainly, never thought I’d be with you.”
You looked up at him, tears started to flood his eyes as his lips trembled. Even after a year of being together, you never imagined that you would see him cry. He has always projected himself as the strong and immovable figure, that you never thought would show his vulnerable side but there he was…
“I’m not asking for the entire day because I do understand how busy you can be. Five minutes would have been enough, or even just a minute. If that was still impossible, a greeting would mean the world to me.”
Namjoon slightly swayed as he walked towards you only to drop on his knees in front of you, reaching for your hands that rested on your knee. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I forgot about it.”
And it all made sense.
You pulled your right hand from his touch then reached for his tear-stained cheek. The two of you looked straight into each other’s eyes and you could see that he was also troubled.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he said. He gave your left hand a squeeze as he leaned to kiss your forehead. “I’ll make time for you.”
synopsis: work can be crazy but nothing out of the ordinary, but when your boyfriend, kim namjoon, visited you…he may have seen something that just made him feel like he was not the best boyfriend.
synopsis: work can be crazy but nothing out of the ordinary, but when your boyfriend, kim namjoon, visited you…he may have seen something that just made him feel like he was not the best boyfriend.
