7 Days Of Halloween: Day 4 Update

7 Days of Halloween: Day 4 Update

Hobi’s story is up and posted! Check it out on my main, or you can find it through the links in the first announcement and the moodboard teasers. Now we just have the Maknae line left💜

Gif not mine

I Could Use A Hug (Uni!Yoongi Oneshot)

1. “Can you please come and get me?”

4. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

20. “I could really just use a hug right now.”

Pairing(s): Yoongi x Reader

Genre: University!Au, fluff

Warnings: insomnia, allusions to depression, signs/symptoms of depression and/or anxiety (if you or someone you know is struggling, don’t be afraid to seek help)

Word Count: 2.3k words

The thrum of rain drops pelting every surface around you dulled your senses and fogged your aching mind. You could barely see two feet in front of you, the darkness surrounding you only broken by the sparse light of the street lamps that became farther and fewer the longer you walked.

You weren’t sure how long you had been walking, hell, you weren’t sure where your feet were taking you anymore. All you knew is that you couldn’t lie there and pretend like everything was alright; like your mind wasn’t tearing itself apart bit by bit for seemingly no reason, and no matter how much you wanted to believe that closing your eyes and forcing it all away would work, in the end, it never would.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept, really slept, and the nightmares in your head seemed to enjoy their slow torment of you from the inside out.

You’re friends would tell you you’re in your head too much; your parents that it’s stress and lack of a proper routine. None of them seemed to dig deeper, try and see that you’ve tried every solution you could think of to fix their idea of the problem, and that none of them worked.

Then again, why should you expect outsiders to know all the answers when you can’t even pinpoint the why yourself.

So instead of staring at your ceiling and letting your mind run rampant with negative thoughts that feed off your sleep-deprived brain, you decide that taking a walk in the pouring rain at 2 a.m. alone would distract you from everything going on in your consciousness.

Only now, sitting on a rickety bench on the side of some street you’ve never heard of, illuminated only by the blinking bulb of a street lamp 20 ft away, you realize that there is no way to outrun this. And, honestly, your exhausted from running this marathon alone.

Wiping away the rain streaming down your face, that may nor may not have been mostly tears that you hadn’t even known had started spilling, you take out your phone to stare at the screen.

3:45 a.m.

“I shouldn’t bother him.” You whisper to yourself, although you bring up your contacts and push the one your looking for anyways. As you hold the phone to your ear, the dial tone ringing through your mind, you curse yourself for being so thoughtless.

How dare you call him when he’s just trying to sleep, knowing he’s probably been up late working, and expect him to drop everything for you. He probably won’t even answer the pho-

“Hello?” A raspy voice cuts through your intrusive thoughts and it takes all you have not to breakdown right then and there. You knew he’d already be worried by the time and nature of the call, no need to add in your hysterical sobbing.

“Y/N? Hey... are you okay?” Yoongi asks, and you can tell he’s getting more worried by the second, and you need to hurry up and find something to say before he panics.

Clearing your throat and taking a deep breath, “Can you please come and get me?”

You hated the way your voice cracked and how needy you sounded, having half a mind to just tell him it was a joke or something and hang up.

You hear him shuffling around, no doubt getting dressed and grabbing his keys, already one foot out the door.

“Of course, where are you?” His voice is soft, calming, and despite the weight it lifts off of your shoulders, you can’t help the pang of guilt that rumbles through your chest for dragging him into your bullshit all the time (though he’d tell you it’s not bullshit and he’s happy to help).

Your eyes dart around your surroundings, trying to find an indicator to your location, spotting a street sign a few yards away, relaying the information to Yoongi.

After a few seconds of what you’re assuming is him getting in his car and trying to figure out exactly where you are, he clears his throat, “Alright, stay there, I’ll be there in, like, 15 minutes...20 minutes top,” And then hangs up the phone to begin the journey.

Slowly tucking your phone back into your pocket, you discover that the rain pelting down just a mere few minutes ago has died down to a light drizzle. It’s a cool evening, but not uncomfortably cold, though you felt so numb right now you doubt you’d have noticed otherwise.

Left alone to your thoughts once again, counting down the seconds till Yoongi would arrive to save you yet again from yourself, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander to the first time you met him.

You hadn’t been quite the mess you were now, freshly out of high school, entering uni and the real world with a blind sense of optimism that would soon be crushed under the immense weight of classes and college life that you’d been naive enough not to wholly consider beforehand.

Yoongi had already, as he likes to say it, “cracked the code” of university life, handling the stresses of student life with ease. Knew exactly what classes to take and avoid, which professors he could swindle, what work he could get away with skipping, and avoided campus social life like the plague. As far as he was concerned, this shit was a breeze and he’d be out before he knew it, degree in hand and job secured through suckering some admin for sweet connections.

He’d never guess he’d get swept up in your steep downward spiral into oblivion when he bumped into you, a happy-go-lucky freshie, that night he decided to let Hoseok drag him to some random new student event in the music hall despite his aversion to such poorly planned social nightmares. In all honesty, he would’ve just ignored you if you hadn’t asked him, quite honestly, where you could get a shot of whatever made him so “incredibly apathetic and disinterested.”

No one had ever really approached Yoongi in the 2 years that he’d been there, except for Hoseok and a few other guys that frequented their shared dorm, let alone a girl. He’s not sure if it was your blind boldness or your Arcadian demeanor that drew him in, but he won’t lie that he’s glad it happened, because you ended up being the best friend he never knew he needed (and the same goes for you.)

Yoongi was there through finals, bad blind dates, terrible roommates; everything. That kind of friendship also came with a front row seat to watch as your mental health deteriorated, with no sure fire way to help you, and it killed him inside.

Soon life was filled with insomniatic episodes that could last for days, a bad caffeine addiction, and an impending sense of doom looming over your shoulder every second of every day, and Yoongi felt like the only thing he could do was watch it all unfold. He was scared of saying the wrong thing, pushing you further into the black hole you edged closer to, and he didn’t want to lose the closest friend he’d ever had.

He quickly learned that just being there and listening when you needed it was the one thing you needed, and he happened to be pretty freaking good at it.

You’ve been up for 13 hours straight working on the exact same assignment? Let’s take a break and watch your favorite movie.

You’re roommate kicked you out again because she can’t deal with you being up for 3 nights in a row? Crash at my place and we can cuddle (which ultimately puts you to sleep, even if just for a little while most nights).

You’re crying for the 5th time today and you have no idea why? I’ll put on some calming music and crush you in a bear hug until you have no more tears left to cry.

Yoongi didn’t need an explanation or any answers, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Admit it or not, he’d come to love every single piece, every inch, every molecule of you, and he hated to see the person he loved in pain.

So getting an S.O.S. call at 3 a.m., knowing that in your weakest moment you needed him and only him, sleep didn’t mean anything to him anymore, in fact nothing else did. You were his top priority and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And so there he was, in his pajamas and a sweatshirt, hair sticking out in all directions, on his way to a random street across town in the middle of the night with only one thing one his mind. You.

He could tell by your voice that you’d had a rough night, considering he’s been present every other time, and he know the signs when he hears them. The fact that you’d gone so far, alone, in the dark, scared him; you’d never done anything quite so reckless in the time he’s known you, and the the fact that you weren’t in the right state of mind had him picking up the pace, urgent to get to you as quickly (but still safely) as possible.

Yoongi learned early on that even though you had a calm and serene attitude, you took things to heart easily, and the more that piled on you, the harder time you had digging your way out. You were very good at hiding how negatively things affected you, and you always put others before yourself, even when the only person desperate for help was you.

He didn’t really understand how someone so in tune with others feeling and emotions, could be so blind to her own. Sometimes you’d even skip meals working yourself into a frenzy, but still manage to scold him for not eating the proper amount of meals per day.

Sometimes, he thought, it was as if you didn’t see yourself as a living, breathing, person that needed everything you were so willing to give to others. Whether you were selfless or stupid, that was a debate for another time.

Turning down the right street, he finally caught a glimpse of the girl he’d been looking for. Your hair was soaked, along with your clothes, and you stared off at the road with an empty look in your eyes. Parking and shutting his car off, Yoongi hopped out and approached you cautiously, shrugging off his sweatshirt as he went.

Your mind finally broke from it’s thoughts to see Yoongi handing you his sweatshirt. When you didn’t reach out to grab it, he quickly moved closer, pulling it over your head and helping your arms through. When you were situated in the warmth of it, the familiar smell of him flooding your senses, it was then that you finally woke up and looked him in the eyes.

You could tell he was tired by the slight discoloration under his puffy eyes, but the emotion that swirled through them was one you had seen him wear quite often when these things happened; sadness.

Without saying anything, he slowly reached out, taking your frail, chilled hand in his, rubbing it to bring back some warmth. You smiled slightly, though tears still spilled from your eyes.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” He asked, continuing his ministrations, searching through the storm that raged on in your eyes.

You shrugged, a long, exhausted sigh escaping your lips.

“Not that long.” You lied, and he saw right through it, not only because he could tell by just looking at you, but he knew it’d had to be significantly longer than usual for this sort of thing to occur.

When you looked back at him, he continued to burn through your facade with his gaze till you broke.

“Like... 6...6 days.”

There was a short silence between the two of you as everything sort of sank in. It wasn’t unlike you to survive on a few hours of sleep, or maybe go 2-3 days without it, but never this long. Why didn’t you tell him beforehand? Why didn’t he notice?

“You know,” he begins, bringing your attention back to his face, which softens as he takes in just how tired and sad you looked, “if you need help, any kind, I’ll be right there for you.”

You’re a bit surprised by his statement. You know you’ve been in a bad state for a while, and he knows it too, but the topic of getting help outside of the two of you hadn’t really been discussed. Not that you were opposed to it, it just never crossed your mind.

Your silence seemed to worry him, making him add, “if you want, whenever you’re ready, and if you’re not, well, then that’s okay too....because I’m here for you, not matter what, and-“

Your light giggle breaks him from his tangent, and his mouth turns up in a half smile when he sees you wipe your eyes and turn to him, the life seeming to slowly trickle back into your eyes again.

“Ok.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, slight worry etching back onto his face even though he tried his best to remain as composed as possible for your sake. You nodded, and he gripped your hand tighter.

“Ok, when do you want to-“

“We can figure that out later.” You interrupt, the fatigue cutting through the bit of energy you seemed to gather just being in the presence of the most important person in your life.

He senses you fading, and lifts his other hand to rub your back.

“You know what though?” You say, causing him to tilt his head in question, awaiting your response.

“I could really just use a hug right now.” And without any hesitation, you’re wrapped tightly in his arms, face buried in his chest as his lips place a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, you know that right?” You mumble into him, and you can feel his body shake a bit with his light chuckle.

“I love you too, now let’s go home.”

————————————————————————————

This is my first attempt at a short prompt imagine type thingy, hope you all enjoy, and if you find any mistakes or have any questions, let me know! Feel free to message me for requests, I’ll try my best to answer if I can! I have lots of drabbles, imagines, and fics planned for this blog so stay tuned!

-Moonie🌙

I Feel For You (Werewolf!Jungkook x Empath!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language, violence, mentions of blood, injuries

Word Count: 6K

Your friend's party was the first time you’d seen him since you were kids. His hair had grown significantly since then, falling across his face in soft wisps he has to continuously blow out of his eyes. His eyes. They were the same as they were before, dark as night but would glisten in any lighting, like the moon across the lake. 

You hadn’t spoken to him in a decade, convinced he must’ve been a figment of your imagination, but the reality of it was that you were just from two different worlds that would never mesh.

You’d only said two words to him that night, when you were both just barely out of booster seats, and you’d wandered too far back in the woods behind your house without your mother noticing. 

Back then he was just a little brown haired boy with brown eyes that seemed to shift as he bared his teeth. You’d been the little girl with pigtails wiping her wet eyes with her dirty hands as she tried to push herself up off the ground. 

“Please don’t.” 

And he’d thought you were afraid of him hurting you. He was shaking in the trap, blood seeping down his leg, teeth bared in defense, and he thought this little girl was scared this monster would eat her. He’d never know you were trying to help him and yourself. 

You thought maybe you’d go over, see if he recognized you, see if he remembered you. But as the DJ cranked the music louder, a group of guys started a fistfight, and a searing pain shot through your jaw, blood pooling in your mouth despite you standing perfectly still by yourself in the corner, you ducked out before it could escalate and made your way home, spitting blood and hoping nobody saw.

—

“Can’t I just skip? I think I might be coming down with something, you know?” Jungkook pleads, grabbing his mother’s hand to rest against his forehead. It was warm, but nothing out of the ordinary, especially for a wolf, and he knew she knows that.

She humored him anyways, flipping her hand over a few times with a puzzled look on her face. After a second, she stood up and began walking towards the bathroom.

“You know what, let me get the thermometer.” Her face broke into a sly grin, knowing fully well that her son knew the only thermometer they had was not for the mouth.

Suddenly, he’s flying past her, tugging on his backpack and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, “You know what, I’m suddenly feeling a lot better! I’ll see you when I get home.” He takes the stairs three at a time and bolts into the kitchen, ignoring his brothers stuffing their faces and taking their sweet time, nothing to worry about being late to, besides ‘work’ with their father. 

Jungkook is the last of 7 boys born to his mother and father. His eldest brothers, Jin, Yoongi, and Namjoon, were all home-schooled by their mother before Jungkook was even thought of. Once they were done, they took their places on the Pack Council with their father.

Hobi, Jimin, and Tae had gone to the “pack school” which was basically homeschooling with all the kids in the pack by a few select pack members. By the time Jungkook came into the picture, not only did the pack accept the idea of sending their children to human school to avoid suspicion, his mother was so worn out she just didn’t have the energy to educate Kook on her own. 

In her defense, Jungkook was a lot more hyper and wild then his siblings, and being the last meant her sanity was at the edge after the first 6. 

Jungkook didn’t mind, though, he was fascinated by human nature, everything that made their society so different from his, and he made it his mission to learn and experience as much as he could about both. At least, it started out that way. 

As Jungkook grew, so did his wolf. It was harder for him to control his animalistic tendencies, and it was worse when he had to keep it all hidden to avoid exposing his pack’s secret and causing an all-out witch hunt. 

Instead, he chose to push all of his wolf qualities, along with some of his human ones, deep down and lay low. It was easier to protect himself and his family that way. Don’t bring attention, don’t make friends, just go to class and come home. 

And after a while, it got a hell of a lot easier. People stopped coming up to him, trying to talk to him, hell, even teachers didn’t call on him anymore. Instead, all he’d get was the occasional wary stare and a few whispers, but that was about it. 

It hurt him to have people think terrible things about him, but it’s not like he could tell them the truth. So, for now, he’d let people believe whatever they wanted about him, from mute kid who cut out his own tongue to a deranged psychopath who writes stories about how he’d murder his classmates (yes, those are real rumors he’s heard float through the hallways. Humans and their imaginations). 

As long as he was here and his secret was safe, it didn’t matter what others thought of him. 

Jungkook made it through the first for periods just he always had. Aside from getting a surprised look from his Algebra teacher for acing his last test, it was like every other day.

Then it lunch rolled around.

He made his way to his usual table out in the quad, far from everyone else and sat alone. He liked being able to enjoy his meal in peace, watching everyone around him.

Today, his peace gets interrupted not even ten minutes in.

You watched Jungkook sit down at the same table he always has. Seeing him in the daylight instead of the strobes at the party made him easier to study. He wore the same black sweatshirt and pants he does every day and he looks the same as he did Saturday night. 

“Why are you staring at him, got a crush or something?” Your friend nudges you, sending the whole table into a fit of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs.’ 

You just roll your eyes, keeping your attention focused on the boy across the quad. You’d never told your friends about what happened years ago, considering it wasn’t any of their business anyways. They hadn’t even acknowledged his existence until they saw him at the party that night, wondering why he’d bothered to show up. 

You didn’t know he went to school with you, let alone that your friends knew him, well, knew of him. It was that night, when you’d asked them who he was, that they’d relayed horrid gossip about him.

Knowing just how insane high school ppl gossip can be, you took every new piece of information about him with a grain of salt. It was that night you learned his name, Jungkook. 

Unfortunately, that was the only useful information they had on him, so you figured if you wanted answers, you’d have to go to the source. 

You’d have to talk to him.

Without even thinking, you rise from your spot at the table, stepping over the seat and heading towards him. You could hear the whispered screams of your friends, obviously confused and concerned with your rash actions, but you just blocked them out. 

Your path to his table felt like a million miles, as if you were on trial, with all eyes on you. You’d somewhat made a name for yourself here, part of the ‘popular’ clique on campus, but you didn’t see yourself that way. It was just your nature to be friendly with others. You could sympathize easily, share and understand, most importantly, you listened, and people liked that.  

You rose the social ladder without even realizing it, and soon you were the talk of the school. Everyone wanted to be friends with you, but the socially elite students had already claimed you as theirs and you were too polite to turn them down. 

So, as you made your way to Jungkook, you could feel the judgment each student passed on you with each step. It was like slowly being suffocated, each state and new set of hands around your neck. 

Sometimes high school is just too much.

You didn’t care though; you’d happily dig your own social grave if it meant finally getting answers from the boy in the woods. 

Jungkook can sense you staring at him from across the way, but ignores it. He used to the stares so he figures it’s harmless. It’s when the hairs on the back of his neck stand as his wolf sense you approaching him that catches his attention and drags him from his protest. 

Jungkook doesn’t look up to see who’s there up until you’re standing across the table from him.

When he does, something deep down open side of him recognizes those eyes, your eyes. 

“Mind if I sit?” You ask sweetly, giving him a smile. He just stares at you dumbfounded, not sure what to say, so he just slowly nods his head once.

You set your bag down next to you and rest your arms on the surface of the table. Jungkook ignores his lunch, frozen staring at you. This had never happened before, not even his first year. People didn’t just approach others and sit at tables they didn’t belong. There was a system, a hierarchy, and everyone had their place.

This was not yours. 

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you stick your hand out across the table, expecting him to take it, but he just stares at it.

“This is usually the part where you shake my hand,” you try not to smirk but it’s hard when he looks like he’s never seen a hand before. 

He hesitantly takes it in his, “Jungkook.” 

He’s hoping this will suffice whatever curiosity you’re harboring towards him and you’ll leave him in peace. Jungkook thinks this is his punishment for going to that stupid party on Saturday when his father told him he couldn’t go. He wasn’t there for long, but he just wanted to say he went to at least one high school party in his life. 

Now he thinks people might have gotten the wrong idea and that it was okay to hang out with him. He’d just have to let you down as easily as possible.

“No offense, but don’t you have friends to sit with?,” he gestures behind you to the table you’d left, your friends awkwardly watching, laughing and whispering. You didn’t bother to look back, just kept your focus ahead, ignoring what you knew was gossip behind you. You loved your friends, of course, but they have awful habits.

“I do, I just figured you’d like some company.” 

He doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs, his wolf annoyed that someone was pitying him. 

You see it but don’t take it too seriously, sensing he was just uncomfortable with your unwarranted presence. 

“I’m fine, you can go now.” You don’t want to leave yet, though, hoping to break through this icy exterior and find out what’s underneath. You can feel it in the deepest depths of your soul that he’s hiding something, holding himself back, and you know it has to do with that night 10 years ago. 

“If it’s alright with you, I’d actually like to stay,” you gesture back behind you subtly, “besides, they can be a bit much sometimes.” You hoped to ease the tension and find some common ground with him, but his wall is strong.

“I’d actually prefer to eat alone,” one part of him is screaming at himself for how cold he’s being. This was a chance to make a connection, maybe make a friend, but the other half is rationalizing that if he lets you in, you’ll ruin everything he’s spent so long protecting.

His mood affects you, the agitation cutting through your usually bubbly aura. You couldn’t help how easily influenced you were by the feelings and emotions of others. You were born to feel what others felt; their happiness, love, frustration, and pain. 

“Why do you insist on cutting yourself off from everyone?” It’s an intrusive question, one a stranger should not ask and did not have the right to know. You couldn’t take it back once it flew from your mouth, though. Speaking before thinking was also an affliction you’d been graced with, one you had spent years trying to correct to no avail. 

His wolf wants to snap, confronting his features into a deep set scowl, his eyes dark. 

“Why do you pretend to be friends with people you don’t like?” It wasn’t fair of him to attack you, but your insistence on prying into his life was wearing his patience thin.

The human part of him regrets the blow when he sees your features, clearly taken aback.

“I’m not pretending, I do like them, just not all the time, no one can like everyone all the time.” You wanted to snap back at him but you kept your calm. It was fair in a way to ask such a question after yours.

Jungkook wolf isn’t satisfied yet, though so he sinks a lower blow, “And why do you always run away when they start shit?”

The guys in your friend group were notorious for picking fights, hyped up on testosterone and privilege. You didn’t think anyone had noticed your disappearing act during such events, but clearly you weren’t as sneaky as you’d thought. You didn’t have a choice though, considering how would you explain when similar wounds appeared on your body as they happened?

You became defensive on instinct, feeling like prey stalked by a predator. You were just trying to be civil and his whole demeanor became a shield to protect himself and retaliate against you. 

“I guess we both have secrets then, huh.” You get up, walking past your table, your friends following you with their eyes, shooting back to Jungkook once you were out of sight. 

At first he didn’t understand why you reacted so harshly to his questions, figuring they weren’t serious. Turns out you may be just as cut off as Jungkook, you’re just better at faking it. 

—

You’d ignored your friends incessant questioning over the lunch fiasco, opting to pour yourself into your studies and after school activities. Once you finished up the meeting for student government, you headed out to the field to grab some supplies for the drama club from the field house.

The coach of the boys lacrosse team had given you the okay to borrow equipment for the club’s upcoming performance, so as the director, you figured it was your job to get everything together.

Walking out, the sun dipping lower in the sky as the boys team practiced on the pitch, you notice a familiar figure looming near the end of the bleachers. You take a second to investigate and see Jungkook watching the team, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

His eyes follow every shot and pass, following the footwork of the athletes, studying each movement. He looked like he wanted to join in. 

Despite getting off on the wrong foot, you could feel the longing dripping from him, the intense desire to be out on that field. He was holding himself back again, and your inner self was dying to know why.

Going against every petty bone in your body, you silently approach him, arms folded across your chest, “You stare any longer without blinking and your eyes will shrivel up.” He jumps a bit, swiftly collecting himself, a minuscule wave of guilt flushing through him when he realizes it’s you.

Jungkook looks back out on the field, fighting his urge to run out and join the team on the field. 

“What are you doing here?,” he asks, slightly interested in the answer but more so interested in what was happening before him.

You follow his line of sight, wondering why he didn’t just ask the coach to try out if he wanted to play so bad. 

“Grabbing some things for the drama club, what about you? Stalking the boys lacrosse team?” His head shoots towards you, eyes glowering.

“No, I just like lacrosse, that’s all.”

Jungkook’s defensive expression turns sullen, once again watching as the ball is thrown back and forth.

“So why don’t you play? I’m sure you’d probably be good at it with your,” you realize where you’re headed with this and can’t help the embarrassment flushing your cheeks, “physical build.” 

Jungkook’s first instinct is to be flush as well, but he covers it up with a sly smirk, “My physical build, huh?” 

Rolling your eyes you reach out to push his shoulder, returning your hand back to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, “Whatever, you know what I mean.”

Watching you get so flustered feeds the grin on his face. It was kind of cute, though he wouldn’t tell you he thought so. 

“I can’t.”

Your face distorts into confusion, wondering what could possibly keep him from doing something as normal as participating in a sport.

You want to ask him why, but after the last ‘why’ question you’d asked him had gone so sourly, you figured there must be a reason, albeit probably not a good one, and that it wasn’t your business to judge.

instead, you take a step forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with him, well, as best you could considering he is much taller than you, and just watch the team practice. 

You can feel him stare at you when you move closer, but he turns back watching just as you are.

“Well, I think you should at least try,” you look up at him, finding him already looking back at you, “you might regret it if you don’t.” 

And with that bit of wisdom imparted, you get what you came here for, knowing that Jungkook follows your every move with his surprised gaze until you’re out of sight. 

Once you’re gone, Jungkook’s attention goes back to the field, seeing the team packing up for the night. He goes against the part of him telling him to go home, and jobs out to the field instead.

Approaching the coach, Jungkook prepares himself for the step he’s about to take, your words in the back of his mind; ‘If you don’t, you might regret it.’

—

The first time you see Jungkook on the field is during a late evening run to the field house after one of the members threw up all over the jerseys you’d borrowed. The coach was hesitant, but allowed you a few more after your promise to wash and return them yourself. 

The team had already packed up and headed to the locker room, but Jungkook stayed behind to get in at least another hour of practice. 

The coach had agreed to let him try-out that first evening, and after proving himself a valuable addition to the team, he was finding all the time he could to catch up, considering the team had already been in practice for a few weeks now. 

You didn’t mean to stare, fully prepared to march out, grab what you need, and head back in, but you watched as his arms lifted his jersey over his head, wiping the sweat dripping from his face. 

Officially bordering on crappy stalker tendencies, you shook yourself out of your trance and grabbed the jerseys from the shed. When you turn around to head back to the auditorium, Jungkook is jogging towards you. 

“Enjoy the show?,” he pries, smirk taking over his face. If you were paying more attention to his cocky attitude and less to his bare torso, you’d have quickly offered a witty comeback. 

“What-I was just getting some, stuff, for the drama club,” you stop yourself before you ramble on and humiliate yourself further. Jungkook likes to tease you, though, so he finds any way to push your buttons and take advantage of your innocent nature. 

“So that wasn’t you I just saw drooling when I took my shirt off?” You snap yourself out of it, scoffing, eyes rolling so hard you thought they’d get stuck for a second.

“Don’t flatter yourself Kook.”

He’s about to press you further when you feel a sharp pain shoot through your jaw, the faint taste of blood leaking onto your tongue. You wince, hand shooting up to hold your face, eyes darting frantically around your surroundings.

Jungkook could sense your change in demeanor immediately, noticing you wince, stepping forward, “Hey, are you okay?” 

His hand reaches out to you, and you are about to brush it off when you both are alerted to yelling towards the quad.

Jungkook is the first to rush towards the noise, you following in quick pursuit. The closer you get, the more painful your jaw gets, stiff and throbbing, a ringing pulsing in your ears. You almost have to stop and hold your head between your knees, but you need to see what’s going on. 

There in the quad, you see one of your friends beating the shit out of another guy. They are both wearing practice jerseys similar to Jungkook’s. You notice the blood dripping down the guys chin, a large welt on his cheek.

You’re about to say something when your friend swings swiftly, landing a particularly hard punch to the guys face, sending him to the ground. 

At the same time, your head whips to the side, the force sending you sideways, but you catch yourself. Your hand shoots up to hold your face, tears pricking at your eyes, fighting back a yelp as the pain fills every one of your senses. 

Before anyone can see you, you collect yourself as best you can and stagger towards the parking lot. You needed to get away from here, you needed to get in your car, and get home before someone sees.

You’re spitting mouthfuls of blood as you go, the tears streaming down your face, the red and purple colors slowly painting the affected area.

Once you make it to your car, you steady yourself and head home, the farther you get from the school, the clearer your head gets. 

Jungkook turns around after the last blow, coach coming out to break it up. He expects to find you standing there, asking, “Isn’t that one of your friends?,” but finds you gone. 

Without meaning too, his wolf senses kick in, searching for a sign of where you might have gone. He follows your scent to the parking lot and then notices the trail of bloody spit that ends at an empty space. 

He can tell from the scent that it’s yours, he just understand what could’ve happened between the field and the quad that could cause you to bleed like that and run off. 

Jungkook was not only curious, he was worried. 

—

You try to cover the bruises as best you could, but it just wasn’t working. You’d tried to convince your mom to let you stay home, but she wasn’t having it. Your secret was yours and yours alone, not even your parents knew, so you couldn’t argue with her.

Instead, you dragged yourself to school, trying your best to hide your wounds with makeup and a turtleneck. You’d just have to avoid everyone today and lay low. 

You’d gone through the first half of the day without any real problems. You’d met up with your friends in the library where they talked about the fight, and one made fun of your outfit choice, of course, ‘only teasing’ though. 

Avoiding people ended up being pretty easy, until you locked eyes with Jungkook down the hall, causing him to make a beeline straight for you. 

You tried to turn around and keep walking, pretending like you hadn’t seen him, but he was quicker than you, blocking your path.

“Why’d you disappear yesterday?” He wants to ask about the blood, but figures he should start off simple and then get to the bizarre. 

He looks over your face, trying not to seem suspicious, but you instantly reach your hand up to cover the side of your face that’s bruised.

Jungkook notices, zeroing in on the faint purple tint of your skin. He didn’t see anyone with you guys when you were in the quad during the fight, and he was sure he would’ve sensed if you’d been attacked right behind him. How the hell did you get a bruise like that?

As if to help him connect the dots, you both turn your attention to another figure at his locker down the hall. It’s the guy that was attacked, the guy whose bruises are an exact match to yours. 

Jungkook isn’t sure how exactly to piece this all together in his mind, but he does now realize that you had started acting funny once the fight had started, and disappeared right after the final blow. 

Was it possible for one person to feel another’s pain like that? Considering he’s a werewolf, it shouldn’t have been a total shock to him, he’s around unnatural things all the time. 

Still, he’d never encountered something quite like this. It was normal for a pack to share emotions and feelings, in their nature to sense each other on an emotional level.

You are definitely not a wolf though, and this is way more than that connection. 

Before he can question you about it, the bell rings and you rush to class, leaving him behind with more questions. 

Jungkook finally caught you at the end of the day, right before you could run off again. It was his first lacrosse game, and considering you were the reason he even tried out, he thought he’d invite you to come watch.

He also wanted to talk to you about what happened, and figured after the game would be as good a time as any. 

A small part also just wanted you to be there so he could show off and maybe, just maybe, impress you. You were the first girl, first person even, to befriend him despite his objections, and the more you helped him take his wall down, the more he started to like you. Jungkook might of even developed a bit of a crush on you. 

“You want me to come to your game?” You repeat back to him, and that signature smirk rears it’s annoying head again. 

“Yes, that’s what I said didn’t I?” Flustering you was his favorite part about your friendship. He never got tired of seeing your cheeks turn red and listening to you nervously ramble. They were some of the points on the ever-growing list of things he liked about you.

“I won’t have anyone to sit with,” you admit, realizing how distant your other friends had become since you’d started hanging out with Jungkook. Don’t get you wrong, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it would be awkward to be alone.

“That’s okay, you can sit with my brothers.” This was the first time Jungkook had really mentioned his brothers, other than the time he had admitted to you that he wasn’t an only child like you and that his family was big.

“Your brothers?”

Jungkook smiles, appreciating how enthusiastic you looked when he shared personal information. 

“Yeah, I have 6, and they all wanted to come watch my first game. You can sit with them if you want, I’ll let them know you’ll be there.”

Now, even though you were nervous, the chance to meet Jungkook’s mystery siblings was more enticing than sitting at home watching movies by yourself, so you promised him you’d come.

—

“What is she, your girlfriend or something?” Jin insinuates, mocking face making kissy noises to further antagonize his youngest brother. Jungkook’s face flushes beet red, flying at the eldest, tackling him.

“Jin, leave our little Romeo alone,” Taehyung joins in on the teasing, causing Jungkook to throw a pillow at his head after tackling Jin to the couch. 

Namjoon and Yoongi are watching their brothers play fight from the kitchen table, not wanting to incur Jungkook’s embarrassed rage onto themselves.

“Is she cute?” Jimin asks from the other couch, Jin and Taehyung nodding their heads in question, waiting for Jungkook to spill. 

“Yeah, I mean, I guess...” he rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat radiate off his skin. His brothers always found ways to pick on him, since he was the youngest, he was the best target.

“Ooo, well if she’s not your girlfriend maybe I’ll make her mine,” Hoseok yells as he enters the room, shoving Jungkook playfully. 

A low growl rumbles through the room, shutting everyone up. They all stare at Jungkook, his teeth slightly bared, and they fight their natural instinct to react. 

“He was just kidding Kookie,” Jimin says softly, patting Jungkook’s shoulder, calming him down.

“Sorry, didn’t realize how serious you were about her,” Hobi admits sheepishly, pulling out a chair next to Yoongi and plopping down.

“I’m not-,” he scoffs, “I mean, we’re friends, that’s all.”

They all stare at Kook, knowing their little brother all too well, seeing right through his aloof act. 

Jungkook pass over to Hoseok, head down in submission, “I’m sorry for snapping at you.” 

Hoseok just beams a wide smile, “It’s okay, it’s natural to feel protective over your mate.”

Jungkook’s eyes shoot wide open, “What-she’s not my- she’s not even a wolf, and how would you even know-“

Joon is up and patting the youngest’s back, “It doesn’t matter that she’s not a wolf. You’re exhibiting all the signs of having found your mate.”

Jungkook’s embarrassment grows more than he thought it could.

He wants to tuck himself away and hide forever. It had been obvious to everyone but him that you were his mate. The first girl he’d made friends with and it’s his mate. What are the odds?

“We’ll be on our best behavior, promise.” Taehyung holds his hand up, scouts honor. They all share a laugh and Jungkook gets ready for the game. 

—

When you show up at the field, Jungkook meets you at the sideline, pointing you in the direction of his brothers, who all watch you with anticipation.

“Good luck,” you whisper it in his ear to make sure he hears it over the loud roar of the crowd. You miss how his cheeks turn pink, but he just smiles and runs back over to the bench.

You make your way over to the group of boys all smiling at you and cheering for their brother. One of them, tall with brown hair and glasses, stands to help you over the bleachers to sit and shakes your hand.

“You must be the famous Y/N we’ve heard so much about,” Namjoon says and the. Introduces himself along with the others.

You can’t help but feel nervous, not only at the revelation that Jungkook talks about you to his family, but the fact that you’re surrounded by 6 guys you’ve never met before, each one beautiful in their own way. 

You could’ve guessed, considering how attractive Jungkook is, that his brothers would be as well.

The game starts, and you’re sandwiched in between Jimin and Yoongi, cheering alongside them for Jungkook. 

At halftime, your team is up down by one, and Jungkook has yet to be put on the field. 

While you’re growing impatient for him, his brothers seem to be perfectly fine with Jungkook riding bench. In fact, every time the coach looked like he was about to out Kook in, they all watched on almost nervously. 

You wondered why.

Jungkook meets you at the bleachers while the halftime clock runs, the team getting water and the coach going over plays.

“Why are your brothers not upset coach isn’t putting you in?” You ask, holding his water bottle for him as he tightens his shoe lace.

Jungkook knows that it’s because they’re afraid he’ll lose control and wolf out on the field, but he can’t tell you that.

“They’re just overprotective, afraid I’ll get hurt or something.”

You nod in understanding, even though you can sense that’s not it.

The game starts back up and before you know it, Jungkook is heading onto the field.

The boys are all watching in nervous anticipation, so you take the initiative to cheer Kook on for all of them. 

Jungkook sees the ball as it plops to the ground and suddenly he’s after it, scooping it up and running for his life. 

The crowd is cheering and as he approaches the goal, he can hear your voice above them all. He turns his head to look at you for just a fraction of a second, but it's enough for a member from the opposing team to tackle him violently to the ground.

Suddenly, everything is black.

—

You wake up in the emergency room, ice pack to your head and half of Jungkook’s brothers standing around you.

You try to sit up, catching Jimin’s attention, and he rushes over to help you slowly rise from the cot.

“Where are we?,” you slur, head pounding and vision blurry, 

“We’re in the emergency room, do you remember what happened?”

You stare at your legs, trying to think back to last thing you remember, “We were at the game, and Jungkook was about to score, but-“

And it’s all blank after that.

Hoseok approaches your other side, “He got tackled pretty hard. He passed out on the field,” the all look at you, “you passed out in the stands at the same moment.”

While your head is pounding and fuzzy, you understand what had happened and you know that they’re going to want answers.

Before they can get any out, though, they are ushered out and Jungkook comes in. He’s holding an ice pack to his head as well, smiling when he sees you.

“You trying to steal my thunder or something?” He asks sarcastically, cracking a smile out of you.

“I can explain,” you start, but you’re at a loss for words. 

Jungkook just walks over and plops down next to you on the cot.

“Is that why you ran off the night of the fight? Why your blood was in the parking lot and you had the same bruises as that kid?” 

He’d already pieced it together in his mind, and you’re tempted to make an excuse, but decide the truth needed to come out sooner or later.

You stare at the floor going over what you were going to say in your mind. You’d never told anyone this, and here you were, about to tell Jungkook, the weird kid from school and the kid from your past, your deepest secret.

“I remember you,” he adds, and you lift your gaze to look at him.

“That night in the woods, 10 years ago. You were the little girl that was scared of me.”

He looks sad and you can’t help the racing of your heart at the fact that he had remembered you after all these years. You were sure he’d forgotten or not realized it was you, considering he hadn’t brought it up, until now. 

“I wasn’t scared of you,” you whisper, and Jungkook looks surprised.

“I was crying for you, for myself. Your leg was caught in a trap. I could feel your pain, Kook.”

This whole time he’d thought he was this horrible monster that made a poor little girl cry; for 10 years he believed he was the big bad wolf. 

But he wasn’t.

“And that explains the blood, the bruise, and our matching concussions,” his lame attempt at a joke makes you laugh and he’s glad the two of you are alone.

“Yeah, sorry about ‘stealing your thunder,’” you giggle and he can hear his heart beating in his ears.

“Are you okay?,” he asks, looking over your head in search of any other injuries. You grab his hand and squeeze it tight.

“I’m okay.” 

—

You both are released from the E.R. and Jungkook invites you to family dinner at his house. 

As you stand on the front steps, you find yourself more nervous knowing you were meeting his entire family this time, but he folds your hand in his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

Dinner is filled with loud laughs and plenty of teasing. You and Jungkook not only have matching concussions but matching blushes as well.

His parents absolutely adore you, knowing the second you walked in that you were their son’s mate. 

After dinner, Jungkook walks you out to the back porch to get some fresh air as the others clear the table.

you both lean on the railing staring up at the stars, when Jungkook lowers his gaze back to you. He’s mesmerized by the way the stars glimmer in your eyes, and when you lock eyes with him, he holds his breath. 

Before you can say anything, he’s leaning down, lips pressing gently to yours. 

It’s sweet and soft, holding a passion neither of you had ever felt before.

When he pulls away, you both stare at each other in silence for a minute, before his mother calls you both in.

You're standing at the sink in their kitchen drying dishes as his mother hands them to you, when she turns to you.

“I used to tell the boys stories of the old world when they were little,” she smiles at you and you return it.

“There was one story, about these incredible healers with the kindest hearts,” and as she looks at you, she can sense the great power within you. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Had to repost this because Tumblr deleted it somehow, but hopefully it’s back and everyone can see it, sorry💜

-Moonie🌙

Follow The Light (Warlock!Yoongi x Wisp!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language (a tad), brief mention of cheating and death, P.O.V. switching, that’s about it

Word Count: 9K (oops)

It wasn’t every day that Yoongi was visited by an unnerved stranger with nothing but revenge on their minds. Well, it didn’t use to be, but ever since he took that idiot’s offer to help him get revenge on a cheating girlfriend in exchange for some monetary compensation, it seems that’s all he could attract nowadays. 

In fact, he can’t even remember the last time someone came in for something as simple as an herbal remedy, or maybe a spell to keep flowers from wilting, or hell, even just to say hi and see how he was doing.

He couldn’t hold it against anyone though; his friends were off far away with lives of their own to attend to and the strangers coming and going all seemingly had worse things to worry about than the feelings of the town warlock. 

If he’s being honest, vengeful souls looking for a quick fix were better than no interaction at all. It’s when he’s alone in that dark house with his thoughts and demons that scared him the most, so any company is good company in his mind.

The only problem is, revenge comes with a price, and the darkness doesn’t just come for the seeker, it comes for the creator as well. 

Yoongi is not unfamiliar with treading the line between good and evil, in fact, it’s a balancing act he’s been doing his whole life. Every action has either good or bad consequences, and those are tripled when you’re using magic. 

At first, it was easy to make the right choice, stay the path of light, deny the darkness, and keep the peace. However, as he grew and learned the truth of the worlds, he realized nothing was as simple as it all may seem on the outside. 

It was much easier (and fun) to take a walk on the dark side sometimes. Dark magic had less rules, less strings attached, at least, that’s what Yoongi first assumed. 

Turns out, the price of black magic is much higher than he thought, and Yoongi has racked up an enormous tab. 

Now it was a daily internal battle to keep his demons at bay, and honestly, he’s fucking exhausted. Should he give in to the temptation of the darkness, or should he fight to follow the light? If he thought about that question one more time, he swears he’d have a stroke. 

Yoongi was honestly done with wondering what if, he wanted answers and he wanted them now. Maybe that’s how he found himself wandering a path not often taken, searching the woods for an answer, a sign, anything. 

If anyone saw him right now, they’d think he’s crazier than they already do. What kind of all-powerful warlock wanders the edge of town for a sign of the right path? Answer, the stupid kind. 

Yoongi shakes his head, the corner of his mouth turning up a bit, “If the boys could see me now.” 

He knows they’d have a field day. The ever-so wise and sure Yoongi, asking the universe for guidance? Hysterical. 

Yoongi was the type of guy who fronted that he knew all the answers, when in reality, he didn’t know a damn thing. He could fake smooth confidence, but it was a different story actually trying to have it. 

But he couldn’t let his reputation deteriorate, not when it was one of the only things keeping him afloat. If people lost their confidence in him, he’d lose his livelihood. 

He was the scary warlock who lives alone at the edge of town who solves people’s vengeance problems. People seeking revenge wanted the worst of the worst, so that’s what Yoongi provided. 

To be honest, Yoongi took walks more often than he’d care to admit. It wasn’t just to look for a sign, but to clear his mind, calm his soul, and keep the negative thoughts at bay. It is harder to do good when you are consumed with bad. To keep on the line, he took the time to clear himself of some of the negative energy. 

The woods were a place of solitude. Nature, the sounds of life bustling around him helped him center himself. It was the only time he left the house, and he liked getting away. He likes watching the clouds roll by, the leaves rustle in the wind, and feel with cold air against his skin. It was these things that made him feel almost human, like he was just a normal person living a normal life. 

It gave him a break in the constant tug of war, one that he desperately needed to keep a somewhat sane mind. 

Yoongi followed the dirt path at the edge of the wood, hands in his pockets, eyes following the line of trees. It was late October and the colorful array of leaves gave him something interesting to look at instead of the ground. 

He thanked the spirits that he’d decided to bring a scarf with him, winding it around his neck to ease the chill that seeped from his veins into his bones. Not to say Yoongi didn’t like the cold, he actually much rather preferred it over the heat. Sweaty Yoongi = Grumpy Yoongi.

The surrounding area took on an illuminated cast as the sun began to sink into the horizon. Sunsets were great, but in his opinion, when the stars begin to glitter in the dark abyss of space, now that was truly a beautiful sight. 

He was amazed at how bright these little things could shine when enveloped by such a thick darkness. 

Stars gave him hope. 

Feeling a wave of calm rush over him as the night takes over, Yoongi pauses a second to breath. The air was magical at the shift between day and night. He could feel the surge of energy in every fiber of his being. It was what being alive felt like. 

But just as Yoongi felt complete and utter peace, a new, unfamiliar feeling crept its way in. He could sense something was there, something he’d never encountered before. His sense of peace was replaced with uneasiness; a feeling that set him on edge and ruined his good mood. 

‘Why does something always have to ruin my serenity?’ He thinks to himself as he cautiously scans the surrounding area. Yoongi is really hoping it’s nothing serious, because he doesn’t have the energy for a fight right now, or ever for that matter. 

He’s about to brush it off as a minor bout of insanity, when he catches a glimpse of light disappear down one of the old trails in the woods. 

Adventure is not Yoongi’s forte by any means, and he’s definitely not one to chase a mysterious figure into the dark woods at night. He wants to keep walking, forget it and go home. 

His legs even start carrying him away, yet when he comes upon another trail, he sees that same glimpse of light disappear into the darkness. 

“I’m seeing things. I’m totally just seeing things.” He whispers to himself, rubbing his face harshly in his hands as if to wake himself up. He keeps walking. 

It’s when he stumbles upon a third path that he finds himself standing his ground, staring out to see if it would happen again. He stays still for a few seconds, but sees nothing.

“I knew it.” He turns to keep walking home, but this time sees the light in his path. It stays still for a moment, mirroring him, and if he squints hard enough, it almost looks like...hair?

With no other choice, he slowly trails after it, the light keeping its distance but almost beckoning him forward. 

It’s almost like it wants him to follow it?

A few minutes pass, and Yoongi becomes impatient. He wants to know what the hell this thing is and what it wants: now. 

He picks up his pace, but just as he gets close enough to make out a figure, it suddenly disappears. 

His eyes blink rapidly, mouth agape. Standing frozen, staring at the spot this thing was before it disappeared. Yoongi had never encountered anything like this in all his years, and let me tell you, he has seen some weird shit. 

But never had he seen something as strange as this. A light that beckoned him forward only to disappear. The craziest part? He swears it looked like... a girl.

-

It’s an incessant knocking that draws Yoongi from his slumber. If it wasn’t for that, he’d probably have stayed in bed all day. He’d been pushing himself harder these past few weeks, and magic drained him of every ounce of energy he had. 

Rubbing his eyes to rid them of the sleepy haze, he waves his hand, sending his clothes to him, quickly dressing as he descends the staircase. A loud freak escapes a loose floorboard, but he pays no mind to it. 

As soon as he approaches the door, he knows who’s waiting for him outside, letting out a long sigh before turning the knob. He doesn’t even have time to greet the intruder before he’s already pushing his way inside. 

Too tired to deal with pretty much everything, a quick wave of his hand sends his guest gliding right back to the open doorway, shock overtaking his features. 

Yoongi would like to say he doesn’t use his powers to control people very often, but he definitely does because people often do stupid things Yoongi doesn’t appreciate. 

One being storming into his house like they own the place. 

“You Satanist bastard! You ruined my life, you hear me!” The man screams in Yoongi’s face. Most people would’ve shrunk back at the level and harshness of his words. Yoongi stood there, face void of emotion trying to block out the words to avoid hearing loss. 

Ah, the best part of the job, unsatisfied customers. While Yoongi is incredibly good at what he does, he’s not incapable of making mistakes. Sometimes things don’t work out as planned, but in most cases, that was customer error, not Yoongi’s. 

As the man continued to throw insults left and right, Yoongi searched his mind far and wide for recognition of the man and what his service was. Knowing what they asked for made it easier for Yoongi to deduce whose fault it was when things go wrong. 

After a few seconds, it pops in his head, and he tunes back into the scene unfolding before him.

Red covers every inch of the man’s face, but Yoongi overlooks that to finally speak out.

“You came in last week, a memory spell, wasn’t it?” He stays silent, the man taking in heavy breaths after his outburst. 

“You wanted your wife to forget your unfaithfulness, correct?” Yoongi knows without a shadow of a doubt this was true. He tried to make it a habit of keeping track of things he sells and who he sells them to, just in case. Information like this came in real handy during times like these, and he was grateful his memory had actually held onto this particular order. 

The man nods furiously, “Yeah, I did, and you said it’d work. A few days later, she doesn’t even remember her own name!” He’s shaking, fists balled up at his sides, eyes turning glassy.

“All of a sudden she couldn’t remember how to speak, or eat, and I found her-“ he chokes back a sob, tears dripping down his face, “I found her face down in the backyard, she was dead, dammit. Dead!” 

Now this threw Yoongi for a bit of a loop. Never had something as simple as a forgetfulness spell ended in something as serious as death. In fact, when death came about during magic use, it was more times than not the human’s fault, not the magic. 

Before he could question the man further, there was swift whistle through the air as the man’s fist landed sharply into Yoongi’s jaw, sending his head reeling to the side. As he lifted his hand to hold his injury, the man suddenly took off, most likely scared Yoongi would use his magic to retaliate.

Did he want to? Of course, there was no better feeling than sending an asshole flying after daring to lay a finger on a warlock like Yoongi. Retaliation was one of the pleasure Yoongi took in making many enemies, because the adrenaline that coursed through your veins when you used magic in such a way was a fucking rush. 

However, Yoongi was too sidetracked by the fact that something he had created had led to an innocent woman’s death. First she’s cheated on, then void of everything she’s ever learned, and then suddenly she’s dead. She’d done nothing wrong.

Yoongi had.  

Turns out, not only does black magic have a high price, it also can be highly unpredictable, especially when not in the right frame of mind. After so many dark spells, overuse of his magic, and fighting with himself, Yoongi had been left vulnerable to malpractice. 

His carelessness cost someone their life.

-

This time Yoongi didn’t take a scarf to keep warm. He opted for a flask of whiskey instead to warm himself from the inside out, though the guilt building a fire in his stomach kept it warm enough as it is. Maybe that’s what he needed right now, to feel like he was burning. 

He’d lost track of how long he’d been walking, but judging by the fact that he no longer had any idea of where he was, he figured either he’d consumed much too much alcohol, or he was very far from his normal path. 

Not that he cared about either anyways. Alcohol dulls the sting of emotion while distance tries to leave it behind. Both of which sounded great to Yoongi right now.

Not one case had bothered him as much as this one. He was usually better at separating himself from his work, building a wall between his personal beliefs and what he had to do to keep on living. Once the spell, potion, hex, whatever it was, was out of his hands, it was no longer his problem. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

And it’s not like Yoongi had never dealt with an upset customer or a violent one for that matter. He’s had his fair share of scuffles with pissed customers who didn’t read the fine print. Sometimes he actually enjoyed it, standing his ground and belittling the idiots who start things. 

It wasn’t everyday he got a chance to prove how cunning and powerful he was, so he really took advantage of it when it happened. 

This hit differently though. It’s like the darkness inside of him liked the taste of death on its tongue, which greatly contrasted the sick pang of guilt Yoongi felt. His demons were bloodthirsty, and this may have been the tipping point. After the man had left, Yoongi spent a solid 10 minutes trying not to vomit from the tearing of his insides as his two sides fought over the feeling. 

Murder took Yoongi’s line and crumpled it up in its hand, tossing it into oblivion. He could feel the evil inside of him seeping into his veins, reveling in the news that Yoongi had made a grave mistake. 

One that could cost him his light. 

The devil doesn’t care about intention, he only cares about results. 

And the result was blood on Yoongi’s hands. 

He takes another swig from the flask, a slight sway in his step as the alcohol really settles in. He should be scared that dulling his senses could make it easier for the darkness to take hold, but he figures he’s probably already screwed, so bottoms up. 

Looking around him to get a feel for where to head, Yoongi stops all together.

While the whiskey sure does make it hard to focus, it’s not to the point where he could hallucinate. And he’s definitely seeing a little light flickering at the edge of the woods. 

After taking a second to collect himself as much as he can, he takes a step forward, keeping his sight on the glow. 

It seems to glow brighter, edging him on, and he can’t stop himself as he lunges forward, chasing after it like a dog after a rabbit. 

Yoongi’s mind warns him that he could scare it away, make it disappear, but the light only moves faster, further into the woods, almost like a game of tag. 

Alright, if this thing wants a race, fine, he’ll give it one. Maybe it’s the alcohol giving him liquid courage or rock bottom feeling that his life couldn’t get any worse than it already is, but he’s flying through the trees, swerving and dodging limbs, after the little light. 

The sober, sane part of his brain is kicking himself for how ridiculous he looks right now, but the rest of him doesn't give a shit. His filters gone and walls down, he was going to find out what the hell this thing was if it killed him.

Yoongi hates to admit it, more than happy to put the fall on the alcohol, but he was tiring quickly and the light didn’t seem like it was giving up anytime soon. So, no matter how badly his lungs and limbs ached, he pushed forward. He wasn’t going to let it get away this time. 

Minutes that felt more like hours passed, when the light stopped just before a large opening at the edge of the tree line. 

Tired as hell and dizzy from the whiskey sloshing around in his stomach, Yoongi heaves himself to a halt, resting his hands on his knees as he leans forward, trying to catch his breath.

That, needless to say, was more than enough exercise for Yoongi for one lifetime, maybe even two. 

When his heart rate had returned to a safe pace, he peeked up between his fringe at the place he saw the light stop. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, but he could finally see what he was chasing after, and despite his efforts to dismiss what he thought was an insomnia-induced hallucination, he really did see the figure of a girl.

She was standing at the edge of an old fountain, back facing him. He wasn’t sure if he should be proud or terrified for the fact that he was also right about the light coming from her hair. It wasn’t as bright as before, but it cast a soft glow that mesmerized every atom of Yoongi’s mind.

Yep, this was definitely something he’d never seen before. 

Yoongi collected himself, even straightening his clothes and hair, not that he was trying to impress her or anything, he’s just a gentleman is all. 

As he went to take a step forward, he found himself unable to move his feet. He was scared she’d disappear again. What if this was his last chance to uncover the mystery and he blows it?

What if this is his sign?

Just as he was about to pull it together and go for it, she turned her head, a smile visible even in the dark of night. He stepped forward, cautiously, and when she remained constant, he took that as an okay to proceed. 

The closer he got, the more features of the girl he discovered. The color and flow of her hair, gently swaying in the night breeze. The curve of her cheeks, her smile pushing them high, a red tinge blossoming at the apples. 

She didn’t look at him, but he could see the frame of her eyes, soft and wide, cute. 

For a creature of which Yoongi knew nothing about, she looked seemingly human, save for the whole glowing hair thing. Her outfit was simple and warm, smothering her small frame in layers to stave off the cold. 

If he had seen her in any other setting, he might’ve given her a second glance, maybe even indulged in some light conversation. He couldn’t deny that she was pretty, but the fact that she is running around the woods at night, seemingly taunting Yoongi to follow, made him leery. 

He knew of other mystical beings, from simple to complex, but he’d never come across something like her before. He’d tried, after the first sighting, searching his library for a book on moving masses of light. Of course, he always ended up with nothing. 

Learning she actually was a she and not just a ball of energy or something, only further complicated things. 

What in the hell is she?

“I like the woods at night,” she says, voice soft and light from not being used. Yoongi stops next to her, looking up from the ground to her, but she remains focused on the fountain ahead.

“It’s quiet and peaceful,” she lifts her gaze to him, smile growing, “the perfect place to think.” 

He’s not sure if he’s to respond or stay quiet, so he opts for the latter and turns back to the fountain, placing his hands in his pockets to avoid swaying them like an idiot like he does when he’s nervous. 

Yoongi hears her take a deep breath, releasing it and then speaks again, “So many paths to take, yet they all led here.”

Yoongi finally takes a second to survey his surroundings, and he indeed sees several other trails all leading to the fountain. When he looks at the thing, he notes the vines wound around the edges, leaves caked in the bottom, and only the lightest of trickles coming from the top. 

It was pitiful, honestly.

“Do you believe in fate?” Her question addressed to him startles him. His mind almost tricked him into thinking this was all just a figment of his imagination, but when he turned to see her waiting for his answer, he feels a cold sensation in his hand.

Her fingers wrap gently around one of his own, holding it softly, and he looks back up into her eyes, smile still present. 

Clearing his throat, he turns his attention back to the fountain to avoid showing how pink stained his cheeks grew. He’d never really had many intimate interactions with girls, or anyone really. He’d preferred solitude in the relationship aspect. He didn’t really trust others, and found keeping up with humans and their emotions rather exhausting. 

The only friends he’d ever had were the ones he’d met when he was younger. The seven of them used to stir up trouble any chance they could get. 

Now that they were older, though, most of them moved on to other things, from starting families, to stable jobs, to traveling the world. 

Yoongi was the only one who remained in the same place, following the same path in an endless circle, repeating every day just the same as the last. 

He didn’t know how to break free from it, or if he even wanted to. 

After standing in silence for a while, Yoongi realizes he still hasn’t answered her question.

“I guess,” he states, hoping it will satisfy her, but she holds her ground, waiting, so he continues, “I mean, do I think we all have a destiny we can’t outrun, then sure. And, we’re here, right now, for some reason, so maybe?” 

She releases his hand to settle at the edge of the fountain, looking out into the woods, almost searching for something. 

Yoongi is about to ask her what she’s looking for when she speaks before he can get the words out. 

“I can sense something in you.” She says, soft smile gracing her lips, eyes moving to look at him, as if actually seeing something inside of him. 

Rubbing his neck as he circles her, dropping down to rest on the edge next to her, he sighs, eyes dropping to the ground.

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of a bad person, you’re not the first person to come to that conclusion.” 

Yoongi doesn’t lift his eyes from their spot trained on a leaf settled on the ground. He does, however, feel her turn towards him, feels her hand as it comes to rest on his knee. 

Slowly, he looks up and meets her eyes, seriousness swirling in them though her mouth stays curved upwards. 

“It’s actually quite the opposite Yoongi. Everyone makes mistakes, it’s how you learn from them that matters.”

It was like time had stopped; everything around him had frozen in place and he couldn’t tear his eyes from hers. He wasn’t sure if he’d heard her right. How could she, let alone anyone, possibly see anything but evil in him, especially if she knew what he had done. He could feel it in himself every day, and by the way people gossiped about him, he knew others could too.

And how had she known his name?

She removes her hand from his knee to clasp them together in front of her, “So, what and how will you change?”

-

After that, he avoided answering you by grilling you instead; you could tell he was startled by your revelations. You liked the mystery, though, so you’d offered him no answers and disappeared into the night before he could object. 

It probably wasn’t fair, no, it definitely wasn’t fair, but it sure was fun. 

You’d woken up with the sudden urge to visit a place you’d never heard of. Leaving on a whim, you found yourself in a small town with an abundance of hiking trails and the story of an evil warlock surrounding it. 

The whole thing felt eerily familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. This wasn’t the first time you’d gotten a feeling so strong it carried you away from home. 

In reality, there was no true home for you. You moved around so much, no place was ever permanent, but that was just how your life worked. 

You couldn’t ignore destiny.

So here you are, waking up in a little inn on the east side of town, wondering if you’d go to him this time, or continue to let him chase you.

You figured he’d be pretty shaken up after last night, especially considering how intoxicated he’d been, and decided you’d take the initiative.

Packing a small bag for the journey ahead, you quickly showered and got dressed, locking the door behind you and heading off. 

You’d known the first time you heard about him that he was the reason you were here. 

You didn’t show up in a strange place on a whim just for fun, it was more like, work.

Since you were little you’d been given the task of guiding others to their fate. It started off with little things, because as a child you didn’t truly understand what fate even was. As you got older, the tasks became higher stakes. You’d had some charges that refused to believe, and it pained a small part inside of you knowing there was nothing you could do.

Sometimes, people just needed to figure out their path on their own. When they needed a little extra help, that’s when you came in. 

You were here to help Yoongi find his way, and from the second the feeling sparked within you, you knew it’d be more difficult than the rest.

You hadn’t even really met him  and you knew he’d be a tough nut to crack. 

You did, however, sense his desire to find the right path, so you had hope this wouldn’t end in a total lost cause. 

Still, as you trekked your way across town in the direction the innkeeper said he lived, you couldn’t help the nervous tick growing inside of you.

You hadn’t worked with many magical folk, and if his reputation precedes him, then Yoongi is as powerful as they come. Humans were one thing, they could easily be persuaded and helped into understanding.

Warlocks were an entirely different story. Most witches and warlocks pride themselves on knowing everything there is to know about all the worlds. So when a force beyond their knowledge comes in to guide them, they have a hard time releasing the reins. 

No matter how difficult this would be, you were determined to give it your all. Yoongi has something incredibly beautiful inside of him and you want to help him find it. 

This is the case that would change your life. 

You just knew it. 

-

The hangover was worse than any he’d encountered before. Alcohol and startling revelations create quite the nasty combo. It hit Yoongi like a K.O. and he was sure this is where he would die. 

In his bed.

Same clothes from last night.

It’d be one hell of an obituary. 

What he wasn’t expecting at 8 a.m., just when he finally fell asleep, was a knock on the door. It was softer than the one from yesterday, but it was a pain in the ass nonetheless. 

He got up, not even bothering to fix his appearance. He was too exhausted and grumpy for that, and he wanted to make sure whoever was bothering him at this hour could tell. 

He took the stairs two at a time, swifter than someone with a hangover should, but let’s blame that on the magic. 

Yoongi doesn’t even grab the door handle, he just flicks his wrist and makes the door fly open, hitting the wall behind it so hard, some bits of the plaster break off and fall to the ground. 

“This better be good or else-“ and he’s suddenly wishing he could take all of the theatrics back, because he definitely did not think it’s be the beautifully mysterious girl from last night knocking at his door. 

He almost forgets that your the reason he’d gotten no sleep last night, but as quickly as his face turns red from embarrassment, it shifts to a shade of aggravation. 

It was almost sad that you could tell the difference between the colors, having seen it so many times before. 

He stormed off into the kitchen to make himself some coffee to wake himself up, and you stand in the doorway, not exactly sure what to do. 

He hadn’t invited you in, in fact, it looked like quite the opposite. 

Before you could apologize and walk away, though, your body is pulled forward, the door swinging shut behind you. 

This should be interesting. 

“Why are you here? Don’t you have woods to wander and people to scare?” He yells from the kitchen, not bothering to come to you, instead beckoning you to find him. 

What a reversal of roles. 

You take cautious steps forward until you find yourself in the little kitchen, dimly lit by skylights and a door leading out into what looked like a greenhouse. 

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air, it was incredibly homey, something you didn’t expect from Yoongi. 

“Well?” He sighs, pulling you from your survey of the room. He takes a sip from the mug held tight in his hands, the steam rising softly and enveloping his face. 

“I thought I’d switch it up, come to you this time.” He chuckles into his mug, amused that this was actually happening. It wasn’t just some weird dream he’d conjured in the depths of his mind. 

No, this was all really happening. 

After the initial silence radiating between the two of you as you both tried to figure out where to go from here, Yoongi beckoned you through another doorway, leading to a quaint sitting room. You sat down in the large sofa across from a beat up chair, which Yoongi took his place in. 

“Ok, so, you’re here, I’m here, now what?” He seemed impatient. It was probably the lack of sleep, which you could see in the discoloration under his eyes. 

“I think the best course of action is to tell you the truth and go from there.” 9 times out of 10 you’d never tell your charge the truth of why you were there. It usually just complicated things and drew them out longer than they needed to be.

Most times you’d just pose as a random character introduced in their life, subtly guide them where they needed to be, and get out of there. 

You knew that this was to be treated differently, because Yoongi was different, so you thought he’d appreciate a little honesty.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Yoongi takes a big swig of his coffee, sets it down on the stand next to him, and leans forward, elbows on his knees. He was genuinely curious as to what you’d drop on him, but he was also still dealing with the repercussions of copious amounts of alcohol mixed with insomnia, so he didn’t exactly seem all that interested. 

That didn’t stop you from going forward anyways. 

“My name is Y/N, I’m a guide. I help people toward their fate. It’s kind of my thing.” You say, albeit a bit cocky, but you were proud of what you did. 

You see the corner of his mouth turn up, but continue, “I’m here to guide you, help you back on track.” 

That sends him into a fit of laughter he has a hard time trying to contain. You sit there, staring at him, not sure how to react. 

Was he laughing at you or the whole thing?

Yoongi calms himself when he sees the discomfort paling your face. He didn’t mean to make you feel bad, it was just so fucking ironic that he’d been feeling a bit lost and the universe throws him, what, some supernatural spirit guide? 

It’s just too hilarious.

“So,” he starts, wiping his eyes as his laughter dies out, “You’re here to get me on the right path?” You nod your head and he has to try really hard not to bust out in another fit.

“What’s so funny about that? I’m serious Yoongi.” 

He stops, “And is that how you know my name, Y/N? Some magic man in the sky gave you a prophecy about guiding me towards the light and now you’re here?” 

You jumped up, red tinging your ears and flowing into your cheeks. How dare he make fun of your job. This was serious business and he was treating it like some kid’s fairy tale book. 

You turn on your heel to storm out, but your body stays frozen just beyond the doorway as Yoongi follows after you. 

“Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m just kind of an asshole when I’m tired.” 

You ignore his apology, turning to face him, closing the distance, your finger pointed threateningly in his face.

“Do not use your magic on me.” Yoongi pales, lending away from you in retreat, and watches as you open the front door, slamming it behind you. 

Some more plaster flies to the ground. 

He insisted on following you all the way back into town, keeping at a safe distance, though, in fear you’d reprimand him again. 

You didn’t pay him any mind, stomping your way back, posture making it blatantly obvious you were pissed. Maybe Yoongi didn’t have anything good in him at all, maybe he’s not meant to be saved. Maybe you didn’t want to help even if he was. 

You hear his footsteps suddenly pick up pace, and he’s now beside you, not too close, but close enough he can feel the anger radiating off of you. Once again, he’d gone too far. 

Idiot.

You didn’t feel like going back to the inn, let alone letting him know where you were staying, just in case, so you opted to wander around for a while to blow of steam. After a while, your anger dissipated, and much to your surprise, Yoongi made quite good company. 

He stayed silent for the most part, except when showing you different places as you walked. He’d point out little things about the town and watch as you discovered new things, in awe of the place. 

There were many things that were different here places you’d been before. With so many lost souls in larger areas, you tended to surface in cities, finding person after person to guide. 

This place was so small and secluded, it was like a little paradise. Tiny mom and pop shops, a cute park with a playground, a little bridge over a calm river settling at the center.

It was peaceful. 

As you explored, you let yourself fall into casual conversation with Yoongi, swapping stories of childhood and life in general. 

You’d hate to admit it, but you were actually starting to feel the warmth from the good in him again. Now you’d definitely have to help him, not that you weren’t going to in the first place, you just liked to make empty threats when you were upset. 

Night quickly snuck up on the two of you, but instead of parting ways Yoongi offers to make you dinner to make it up to you.

“It’s the least I can do, I was a dick.” He rubs the back of his neck and you smile, nodding to accept his offer. 

“Yeah, you were.” Yoongi smirks at you, and you just walk by him, back to his place. He quickly catches up and you both walk in peaceful silence. 

You were growing on each other. 

Dinner was simple and quiet, but a nice quiet, one that made both of your souls feel warm and content. He bids you goodnight and you make your way back to the inn, thinking partially of a plan on how to help Yoongi, and partially of the way his face lights up when he smiles and the sound of his laughter.

This job is turning out to be more than you thought it would be. 

-

  The following weeks are filled with various activities and tasks to help Yoongi find his way. You start off with the simple things, like tidying up his house, getting his things organized, finding him a proper routine to follow. 

He’s hesitant at first, his things were all where he liked them and change wasn’t something he enjoyed, but if you were there to help him, he guesses it isn’t that bad. 

Watching Yoongi haul boxes of books, candles, and herbs was a hilarious sight to see, but you didn’t patronize him too much. 

You could tell what little tidying he did was done with magic, so forcing him into manual labor was a foreign concept, and one that brought plenty of whining. 

It would be good for him to take a step back and remember the human part of him, and tapping into that required a break from the magic. 

Eventually, he got into the rhythm and focused on the task at hand instead of focusing all his energy on pouting, and, while you found his pout quite adorable, you were thankful he was finally taking you seriously.

Even though the little things did help get Yoongi on track, he still felt the darkness in him growing, and it was starting to kill his hope. 

Every time he looked at you, smiling as you organized his potion recipes or laughing when he dropped a box, though, it pushed all of that evil away and replaced it with a warm fuzzy feeling Yoongi had not been privy to before. 

When his friends were around, he felt light and happy, but this was different. This was something sweeter, something more complicated. 

Was he...falling for you? 

Yoongi didn’t want to dwell on that thought, reminding himself you were only here for a job and that was it. He’d be nothing more than a customer to you, and Yoongi knew all about that type of relationship. 

Once you were done helping him, you’d be on your way and he’d be left with nothing but the receipt. There was no room for getting attached. 

Yoongi did, however, let himself indulge in some harmless flirting while you were here. It couldn’t hurt, and he liked knowing your smile after a silly pickup line was because of him. 

Believe it or not, meeting you opened up a whole new side of Yoongi, and he was growing fond of it. 

You talk to him, listen, annoy him, help him. You do so many things for him outside of what he would consider part of your job. 

He liked that you pulled him from his dependence on his powers, even if carrying heavy ass boxes up and down the stairs on his own was hell. Doing things the ‘human’ way distracted him from the storm inside. 

It made his life a little simpler. 

“Alright, I think that’s enough for today, what about you?” Setting the duster down on the counter, you turn back just in time to see Yoongi plop the box he was carrying down on the floor and collapse on the couch.

A giggle escapes your lips, watching him huff a big breath, blowing his fringe all over the place, his cheeks bright red from the exertion. 

Yoongi doesn’t even bother to open his eyes as he reclines back on the couch. He’s physically drained and while he doesn’t want to show it in front of you, he doesn’t have the energy to do anything else. 

You didn’t mind though. You knew it’d be a change, finding the right path always was, and you admire the amount of effort he put in. 

You make your way over to the couch, falling down next to him, mirroring him as you let your head fall back on the cushion. The couch was old, but hell was it comfortable. Now you knew why he enjoyed sprawling out across it all the time. 

Closing your eyes, you let silence take over the air, enjoying the peace and tranquility of each other’s company. You hadn’t realized how exhausted you were as well, not noticing how Yoongi peeked one eye open to stare at you.

He mapped your face in his mind. Every detail, from the curve of your lips, to the frame of your nose, all the way to the curl of your lashes. He could stare at you forever given the chance. 

When you let out the smallest, softest sigh, the best of his heart increased ten-fold, and he found himself smiling like an idiot just watching you breath. 

In a perfect world, he’d lean in and kiss you, and you’d kiss him back, and then you’d live happily ever after. 

This was not a perfect world, however.

This was reality, so he’d enjoy the view while he can, at an appropriate distance. 

Eventually your eyes opened, turning your head to meet his. You just stared at each other for a while, not saying anything, scared it’d ruin whatever moment you were having. 

You thought you saw his head start to move forward, snapping you quickly from your daze.

Clearing your throat, you speak up, causing him to pause, “It’s getting pretty late, I should probably head home.” 

That was the last thing Yoongi wanted. He watched as you stood up and began gathering your things. 

He felt the sudden urge to use his powers to stop you, to convince you to stay, but he stopped himself. You’d warned him against using his magic on you, so he figured if he wanted this to go right, he’d have to do it the old fashioned way. 

He leaps up, taking your bag from the hook it hung from right before you could grab it. You looked at him with a smirk, about to tell him to stop messing around, but he just stares at you, a look of pleading spreading across his face.

“Or you could stay?” Your eyes widen a bit; he’d never been this forward before. You knew there was something brewing between the two of you, no matter how professional you tried to be. There was just something about him that reeled you in; it sent shivers down your spine and felt like butterflies in your stomach. 

You’d never taken such a liking to a charge before, but he didn’t feel like a ‘client’ to you. He was more like a best friend, the person you could come to with anything, could lay your heart out to. 

He became warm and familiar and all you wanted to do was spend time with him, get to know him, maybe even love him. 

You’d spent so much time helping others, you’d neglected yourself and your own needs. If others had paths, you surely did too, right? There was no way, no timeline or universe you could fathom in which Yoongi didn’t fit into yours. He was the only thing you felt sure of.

You knew, however, that there was a possibility that you were not on his, and that after he found his way, you’d be gone and on to a new soul. 

You didn’t want to think about leaving Yoongi behind, the possibility of never being able to be like you were now scaring you more than anything else ever could. 

Your job wasn’t one you could just quit, and love only complicated everything. 

You could enjoy it for now, but it could be nothing more. 

Setting Yoongi up to only get hurt in the end would not be an option. 

“I don’t know...” you sigh, your own internal battle raging on. If things went too far, you’d never be able to forgive yourself.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, grasping your hand in his. The warmth from his hand envelops yours, soothing your warring mind, “It’s dark out and I don’t want you to go back alone. Plus, you’d just have to come all the way back tomorrow, so if you’re already here, we can get more done, right?” 

The hope that illuminates his face is what ultimately convinces you to stay. He quickly sets up the couch for himself, offering you his bed, which you decline but he insists anyways. 

He puts on a movie and cuddles up with you on the couch to help you both fall asleep. 

Halfway in, your breathing slows to a steady rhythm, your head resting on his shoulder. 

Yoongi is about to get up and carry you to bed, but as he shifts, you snuggle closer, burying your face in his chest. He opts instead for leaning back and letting you use him as a pillow. He wraps his arms gently around you, pulling the blanket on the arm of the couch over the two of you. 

He doesn’t know how the movie ends, falling asleep not long after you both get comfy. It was the best night’s sleep he’d ever had, holding you in his arms gave him the most peaceful sense of security. 

You both slept in well past morning wrapped in each other’s arms. 

-

The more time spent with you, the harder Yoongi fell for you, until every time he saw you, he couldn’t resist the urge to entwine your hands or place a quick kiss to the top of your head. 

The more time you spent with Yoongi, the easier it was to let yourself get swept up in the romance of it all. It became a natural occurrence, the skin-ship between the two of you, earning its place in your routine. 

The tasks set to help Yoongi find his path turned into domestic activities you shared together, enjoying each other’s company. Checking out of the inn a week or two ago, Yoongi had lent you his spare bedroom so you wouldn’t have to make the trip across town every day. 

After the first week, the spare bedroom became spare once more as you decided snuggling up next to Yoongi in his room was the only way you’d be able to get any sleep, not the Yoongi was complaining. 

There was never an awkward moment between you two since then, it was almost like you’d lived together your whole lives. 

You wake up, obviously before Yoongi, and make a pot of coffee and some breakfast every morning. Yoongi usually smells the food and makes his way downstairs a few minutes later, jointing you for the meal. Your routine has become a joint effort to make each other as happy as possible. 

You’d earn a point for every time you made Yoongi a cute egg and bacon smile for breakfast, and he’d earn one for every time he helped you wash the dishes.

You’d earn one for every time you’d surprise him with a quick peck on the cheek and he’d earn one every time he holds you tight and kissed your forehead. 

All plans of keeping your distance was promptly thrown out the window long ago. 

You’d shared your fears of leaving with Yoongi, and he’d assured you he would never let that happen. 

You wouldn’t tell him, but you had your doubts. You couldn’t stay just because Yoongi didn’t want you to go, and there was no physical way possible you knew of for him to keep you with him. 

You were pulled by a force not even you fully understood, and disappeared at the end of the job without a trace usually. When you show up to the next soul, your precious soul moves on, forgetting you were even there. 

Despite believing Yoongi would come to forget you and move on, you still decided to give everything you had to him while you could. 

You wanted to feel love, be loved, but most importantly love Yoongi. You felt it in your bones that this is what you were meant to do, love him with every fiber of your being no matter how long you had. 

Yoongi felt the same way. He was perturbed that he couldn’t help ease your mind or find a way to help you stay. You’d helped him so much in the months he’s known you, and he couldn’t imagine living even for a minute without you. 

Not knowing anything about who or what was behind your job aggravated him. The fact that you didn’t know either yet could still be taken away from him at any moment without a choice didn’t seem fair to him at all. 

He wanted to find your ‘boss’ and make them let you stay with him, or at least try to help them understand that he needed you.

The only thing he could do for sure, was hold you tight and love you with all his might, because the only thing he knew he could give you was himself. 

Yoongi couldn’t even remember what it was like to live before he knew you. He credited you for making him a better person, but you knew he had it in him all along. 

Every day was filled with so much laughter, so many smiles, and so much love, that the darkness in him had suffocated; the black flame snuffed out. 

As he leans in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you wash the dishes from this morning’s breakfast, he realizes you’d shown him the light inside of him was still alive, and even helped it burn ten times brighter. He was excited to wake up every morning, knowing he could wake up next to you.

Yoongi, after the first week of meeting you, had decided to put the vengeance business to rest, and went back to making simple, safe potions for mundane things. He’d dotted all of his ‘i’s and crossed all of his ‘t’s and he felt so good because of it. 

People no longer gossiped about the ‘evil warlock in the woods,’ but rather referred to him as ‘Yoongi, the nice boy attached to Y/N’s hip,’ which he much rather preferred. 

When the two of you wandered through town, whether it be a grocery run or a romantic stroll, people would offer a smile or a small wave instead of side eye. 

Yoongi was finally living his life; truly living.

Yoongi slowly walked to stand behind you. You felt his hands slide from your hips to wrap his arms around your waist. A smile forming as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, placing a small kiss to your shoulder. 

But the sweet feeling was quickly replaced with one you knew all too well. One you had been dreading.

Setting the dishes in the sink, you turn around and Yoongi’s face pales at the sight of your scared expression. 

His grip around you tightens.

“It’s time isn’t it.” He said it more as a statement, and you couldn’t help the tears quickly forming in your eyes. Yoongi quickly wipes them away, nuzzling your nose with his to soothe the ache as much as he could. 

As soon as he came to the realization that you’d changed his life, he understood what that meant. Now that he was on the right path, it was time for you to go.

He wanted so badly to let tears escape, to hold you so tight they couldn’t take you away. He wanted to scream at the universe, how dare it take away the only thing he cared about.

Yoongi didn’t do any of that, though. He wanted to stay strong for you. There was nothing he could do but hold your hand, kiss you softly, and tell you it was going to be okay.

“I love you. I always will.” 

And just like that, you were gone. 

Yoongi stood in the kitchen, alone, and finally let a few tears slip down his cheeks. 

-

The universe probably expected Yoongi to fall apart after you’d left, then forget you all together. Hell, he expected that himself. 

He couldn’t disappoint you though and he knew that this wouldn’t be the end. 

You’d become such a huge part of his life, that even the universe couldn’t strip you from his memory. You are his soulmate, and he is yours, and that’s a bond that can't be broken. 

You’d taught him an important lesson about fate, and he knew you were his.

So, he didn’t break down, fall into the darkness, and waste all the effort you’d put into him.

No, he held himself high, and smiled knowing you were out there, somewhere.

He’d broken free from his old cycle of life and dedicated the new one not only to loving you, but loving himself as well. 

The universe could throw whatever it wanted at him, he was done taking it lying down.

This life was his, and he wanted to share every bit of it with you, the person who showed him just how much he deserved it. 

He doesn’t care how long it’ll take, he’ll find you. 

After all, you can’t outrun destiny.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Guys, 

    My main man Yoongles’ story is out ya’ll. Honestly, this one was the most difficult for me to finish, don’t know why. Again, came out longer than expected, but I think that'll be a theme from now on. Still love how it came out though, sorry it’s not exactly the happiest of endings, but hey, they can’t all be! Hope you guys like it, and if you find any errors, let me know (there are probably a lot, I suck). Anyways, thank you all for the support of this “series” so far, it means a lot! Enjoy!

-Moonie🌙

Love Heals All (Hoseok x Elf!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of hospitals and injuries, P.O.V. switching, I think that’s it

Word Count: 6K

Work. That’s what took up 99% of your time most days and 100% others. Not that you minded, you loved healing others. The thrill of helping someone was addicting and it made you feel good knowing you were making a difference, helping people get better. 

It was your calling, after all, your purpose. Even though you couldn’t understand the why, you certainly loved the how. Since you were little, you’d had a knack for fixing broken things. You’d play doctor with your barbies, then when you discovered your gift you’d moved on to the injured birds that would hit your windows sometimes. 

Your parents knew, of course, that this was something you had to keep to yourself. ‘They don’t understand,’ they’d say, ‘they’ll take advantage of you.’ 

As a little girl, you didn’t understand what they could possibly mean. You were doing something good, right? How could people not understand that?

As you got older, you realized what they had meant. What you could do, no one else could. Something like that made people jealous; made people scared. When all you wanted to do was heal, you knew you’d have to do it their way to avoid repercussions. 

And you played by their rules for a long time. Learned CPR and first aid as soon as you could, took training courses, even enrolled in a nursing program after high school (and graduated with honors). 

No matter how many people you helped, you couldn’t help the gnawing guilt that you could do more. So, so, so much more. 

Then a craze of ‘witch doctors,’ ‘magic medicine,’ and home remedies ran rampant through the city, and you saw an opportunity to put your gift to good use. 

Under the guise of ‘healing auras’ and ‘crystal healing,’ you were finally able to help your way, without fear of inciting panic. 

At least until people started getting suspicious, and suddenly your only choice was to leave home and start over somewhere new. Somewhere no one would know anything about you. 

Leaving that part of your life behind hurt and this wound was something not even you could heal. You’d given up your gift to go back to normal, well, as normal as you could possibly be. You took the night shift at a local hospital, started looking into medical school, and even attended some weekly dance classes to stay healthy. 

You never thought these classes would dig up old bones, but of course the past can never stay easily buried away like that. 

—

You’d mentioned earlier to Hoseok that you thought Euna should get her ankle checked out before returning to class. Of course, he let her decide, and of course she insisted she was fine. You never really talked to Euna before that day, but something inside you knew she wasn’t ok. 

And a quarter of the way through the routine, your suspicions are proved right when Euna falls to the ground with a yelp, hands flying to her ankle as everyone stops and gathers around her. 

Suddenly, Hoseok is in a panic, everyone is trying to see what’s going on, and you’re pushing your way calmly through the crowd, instructing them to leave and give her some space. 

Lowering yourself down to her level, you move her hands away from her ankle and assess the damage. You can tell it’s not a fracture, no broken bones, just a ligament tear. Painful but manageable. 

You turn your head towards Hoseok, who’s eyes keep flicking quickly from her ankle to you and back again. 

You sigh and help Euna move her leg out from under herself so it’s stretched towards you. Better access means an easier fix. 

“Should I call someone, is it bad?” Hoseok tries to hide his panic, even though he’s incredibly bad at it. He’s seen his dancers injured before, but it never fails to scare him every time. After all, their like his family. 

“She’ll be fine, just a mild ligament tear,” You say, hoping to ease some of his worries, and he just stares at you like a deer in headlights. 

“You can tell that just by looking?” He asks, and you mentally kick yourself. Shaking it off, you nod.

“I’m a nurse, it’s kind of my job to know injuries.” Quick, albeit shaky, save. All of your worry he might not buy it washes away when he rests his hand on your back. 

“Alright, so what do we do?” 

You send him for your bag and while he’s occupied, you rub your hand gently over the spot of the tear. Euna is laying down with her eyes shut so you don’t have to worry about her seeing anything.

You feel the slight warm sensation and tingle at your fingertips, her skin beneath casting a slight glow as your fingers move, and suddenly, you’re done. 

You made sure not to do too good of a job, couldn’t make it suspicious, but enough to where it wouldn’t get worse and her pain would subside. Now, it could heal the rest of the way properly with the right wrap and rest, and you could feel better knowing you helped. 

You turn to see Hoseok behind you, your bag in hand, and he seems to stare at you a second too long before he’s handing you your things and offering to get Euna an ice pack. 

Hoseok had always been a bit awkward, so nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You take the medical wrap from your bag and bandage up her foot, making sure to tell her all about the proper care for her ankle.

You also make sure to recommend going to get it properly checked and to not push herself too hard next time. 

After all that commotion, Hoseok figures it’s time to wrap class up. Looking at the clock, it was close enough to quitting time, he figured, and everyone looked thoroughly too exhausted to question it anyways. 

He wouldn’t share with the class, however, that something he saw tonight made him question his mental state, and figured he probably just needs a good night’s sleep to forget about it. 

Everyone packs their things up, and as you shove your stuff into your bag and hike it over your shoulder, you feel a hand touch your arm.

“Hey, walking home tonight?” Hobi asks, even though he knows the answer; it’s the same every week. You smile, giving him a quick nod as you follow him towards the front door. 

Turning quick to lock up, he spins back around to look at you, “Mind if I walk you home then?” 

You both start walking, casual conversation about classes and the hospital flowing freely between the two of you. It was just like every other Thursday night, he’d offer to walk you home because a. It was late, b. You shouldn’t walk alone, and c. He lived a block away from you anyways.  

You two quickly fell into sync with each other, the walks home going from awkward silence to loud laughs and teasing. Hoseok was easy to talk to and you liked having someone like that around. 

Hoseok liked how bright and easygoing you were. He felt you both had that in common, among other things he learned the longer you hung out. 

After moving, you had a hard time making friends, so finding Hoseok’s dance class add in a newspaper an elderly patient had you read to her one morning was a blessing in disguise. 

Despite being completely inept when it came to making friends, the atmosphere in Hobi’s class was so inviting, warm, and friendly, even you found it hard not to feel comfortable. Everyone was so welcoming and kind, you felt like you’d been there your whole life. 

Community and family was something you needed, and it’s what Hobi provided.

Before you knew it, you were standing at the steps of your apartment building, ascending a few before you hear Hoseok’s steps stop. Turning around to ask him what was wrong, his back is facing you, as if he had frozen where he stood.

You peek your head forward a bit, questioning look on your face, “Hobi, you okay?”

Hobi turns around slowly, the image of your hand and Euna’s leg and light burned into his retinas and he just can’t help himself. He has to ask, for his sanity’s sake.

Out of habit, his hand finds the back of his neck, and he’s not sure if he should make eye contact with you or stare off into space so his eyes just kind of find your feet and stay there awkwardly.

“Um, about earlier, when you were looking at Euna’s leg...” The more times he goes over what he is going to say, the crazier it sounds and at this point he wishes he’d never brought it up.

“Yeah, what about it?” You probe, not at all catching on to where he was going. In your mind, Hoseok was completely oblivious, considering he is with a lot of things. Turns out, he pays more attention than you thought.

“Well, there was this...light, I guess, when you touched her leg,” his arms are flailing a bit and he can no longer concentrate on the ground, his eyes darting around like he was looking for the explanation in the night air, “That wasn’t...real was it, I’m probably just hallucinating or something...” 

His sentence trails off and when he finally dares to look you in the eyes, he is hit with an instant wave of cold. In a mere matter of seconds, you’d barricaded yourself from him, putting up a harsh front to push him away. 

It was all happening again. You were dumb enough to think this time would be different. You were stupid enough to let your guard down and you just couldn’t help yourself. Everything slipped away from you once again, and it was all your fault. You’d jeopardized your future here over something as ridiculous as a fucking ligament. 

Now it made sense why Hoseok had been so weird before, it wasn’t his normal awkwardness, it was his ‘I think I saw something I shouldn’t have’ awkwardness. 

Taking the time to process everything in your mind, you could tell by the look in his eyes he wasn’t convinced by his words and he wouldn’t be with yours either. 

The only option left was to cut ties.

“You’re probably just tired Hoseok. You should get some rest.” You don’t even bother saying goodbye, worried that he’d hear the underlying finality in it and try to change your mind. You quickly head up the rest of the steps and barricade yourself in the building. 

Hoseok just stands there, watching you as you almost run from him, and he can’t help but feel like an asshole for some reason. It should’ve been a harmless question about his mental state, but it ended up being so much more. 

When he finally broke from his stare, he continued his walk home, wondering how he’d fix things next Thursday. 

I don’t think a week’s going to be enough time to find a way to fix this.

—

You were just going in for your shift when your phone buzzed. You knew to just ignore it, he’d get the hint after the first hour. 

You enter the locker room to put your bag away and head out to get the report from the day shift nurse. Your phone is still in your pocket, just in case, but you're focused on your rooms, which ones need linens stocked and what not. 

After 30 minutes of just coasting around, checking your patients and helping out a few coworkers, your phone buzzes in your pocket again. You sigh to yourself, making sure to put on a straight face when another nurse walks by, then quickly pull out your phone.

Hoseok

        -Hey

        -Are you not coming to class today?

Shutting your phone off and shoving back into your pocket, you go back to work. A few hours went by, and by 2 a.m. you’ve had three new patients brought in all with varying injuries, but none too serious. 

Once you finally find a break to sit down and chart, you make the mistake of turning your phone back on just to check your schedule, when you notice six new messages from Hoseok. 

Hoseok

        -I’ll take the silence as a no...

        -Are you okay?

        -Is it about what I said the other night?

        -I was just being stupid and paranoid, I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing, will              you please answer me?

       -Y/N, could you please just let me know you’re alright?

       -That’s it...

“The hell does that mean?” You voice your confusion of the last text out loud, warranting a few looks from other nearby nurses actually doing their work. Throwing your phone onto the counter, you stretch your arms and finish up your charts.

As if to clear up your confusion, a few seconds later, Hoseok waltz right into the E.R. slowing his pace only to survey the place until he locks eyes on your form behind the desk, to which he marches right up and stares down at you, almost like he was trying to intimidate you. 

When you look up from your work, Hoseok is the last person you expected to see standing a foot away from you. You can’t hide from him now. 

“The least you could’ve done was answer me and let me know you weren’t dead somewhere.” 

His tone wavers on angry, but he’s still too bubbly to let it sound heavy, but the intent is still there. He’s not really angry, per say, more so hurt that you wouldn’t just let him know you were working. He understands missing class for your job, but to ghost him was just plain rude. 

You look back down at your screen, saving what you’d done, and rise to talk to him. You didn’t like when he stared down on you like you were a child in trouble. 

“You can’t just show up here Hoseok, this is an emergency room not a convention.” Hoseok chooses to ignore your comment, instead waiting for his rightfully deserved apology. Was it bad that he cared about you? I mean, he cares about all of his dancers, and wants to make sure they are okay, since when is that a crime?

“Next time, just let me know you have to work. It’s not that big of a deal.” He’s exasperated at your attitude, especially since he doesn’t understand where it’s coming from. He made one dumb comment and you were taking it out on him, that just doesn’t seem fair. 

You walk around him to grab another chart, crossing the room to a supplies cart. Hoseok follows you, getting dirty looks from the others on the floor, but you just wave them off.

“There won’t be a next time. I’m quitting.”

You turn around to see a confused look on his face, “You’re quitting the night shift?”

Rolling your eyes, you can feel yourself getting more agitated by the second. Not only was he grilling you for no reason, he was breaking hospital protocol, and that could get you fired. 

You spin around, putting one hand up to his chest to push him back towards the exit.

“No, I’m quitting the classes. I’ve got too much to do here. Now get out.” He tries to turn and object, but once you get to the front door, the security officer gives him a strange look and decides it’d be better to just leave it alone.

If you wanted to quit classes and act like a child to him, fine, Hoseok no longer cared. 

That’s what he told himself at least. Why get hung up on one dancer, it’s not like you could be that special anyways. Sure, he’d miss your laugh during freestyle, or the concerned face you made when you tended to everyone’s injuries, even the minor ones. 

Hate to say it, but he’d actually grown quite attached to you, especially since you were the only one he’d share late night chats about anything with when he walked you home. 

Whatever happened that night, you’d changed, and he didn’t like the new you. You weren’t the Y/N he admired, you were somebody else. 

On his way home, he was more passed that he’d left the comfort of the dance studio and his work to check on you at 2 in the goddamn morning. He could’ve been home in bed by then if he hadn’t worked himself up so much during practice. 

He’d would never forgive you for the lost hours of sleep he’d never catch back up on. 

—

Sometimes you thought the universe did this on purpose. You’d had a few weeks of blissful, trouble free work, no Hoseok interruptions, when one night, surprise-surprise, he walks in with a familiar face limping beside him. 

You let another nurse take the lead on this, irritated at the loss of your Hoseok-free streak you were on. Although, seeing him again after not for so long, it caused a warm tickle in your chest that you couldn’t explain. 

Maybe you did miss the company class and Hoseok provided, but you couldn’t risk exposure. After almost exposing yourself and your family from the last incident, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t go through that again. After all, you could only go so far before everything catches up to you. 

Apparently you could only stay so far away from Hoseok before he catches up to you as well.

You spy from one of your patients’ room, filing out another chart while simultaneously stealing glances at Hoseok. He can tell you’re staring at him, but he’s got bigger things to worry about right now. 

Some of the dancers wanted to incorporate more stunts into their routines. Kai had tried to do a back handspring into a back tuck and landed on his ankle wrong, twisting it in a way it definitely wasn’t intended to. 

After dealing with a few of the others almost vomiting at the sight, Hoseok rushed Kai to the E.R. in his car, not even thinking about you being there. 

It wasn’t till he basically carried the poor guy in with him, spotting you from a distance did he remember you had just started your shift. 

‘Of course,’ he thinks to himself, ‘now she’ll think I’m here on purpose.’

Instead of immaturely ignoring you like he wants to, he briefly looks over and nods in your direction. It wasn’t polite nor rude, just a gesture to acknowledge your existence, hoping even that little thing wouldn’t piss you off for some reason. 

You weren’t sure if it’d be right to try and talk to him. You’d been so abrupt and cold to him the last time, you knew he wouldn’t want to hear anything you had to say. Did you have anything you could say to him that would make the situation any better? Not really.

You both end up avoiding each other until Kai is wrapped up and ready to go, so Hoseok escorts him to his car and leaves you with a simple wave. 

You stare off, watching his car pull out of the parking lot and disappear down the dark streets. 

Cutting ties was proving to be more difficult than you thought it would be. 

—

Clocking out, grabbing your bag from your locker and heading out of the E.R., you can barely keep your eyes open. Last night’s shift was particularly draining, and you couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment, peel your scrubs off and replace them with fuzzy pajamas and get some well deserved sleep. 

The universe, go figure, has other plans for you though, apparent when your phone starts going off, Hoseok’s name on the screen.

He never called you when you were friends, so why the hell would he call you now?

Picking it up, the confusion in your voice is present when you say, “Hello?” 

There is heavy breathing at the end, and then a tiny voice, definitely not Hoseok’s, answers you, “Hello? Is this Y/N?” 

The way the little voice pronounces your name instantly melts the tension that built up in your body. You crack a smile, stopping your walk to put a hand on your hip.

“It is, and who might this be?” You can’t help but let out a soft giggle as another voice says something to the child on the phone but the child just makes a noise at them.

“This is Soobi, Mr. Jung got hurt in class and he needs your help.” There is no panic in her voice, so you don’t immediately jump to the worst case scenario. You figure that it was probably him in the background telling her to hang up the phone. 

“Soobi, can you please give Mr. Jung his phone so I can talk to him?” You hear the loud patter of little feet and then a loud sigh.

“Y/N, it’s nothing, I told her not to take my phone and definitely not to call you.” He didn’t mean for it to sound harsh, but he just didn’t want to bother you and he was trying not to let the pain in his hand influence the tone of his voice. You weren’t talking to him and he wasn’t talking to you, so he shouldn’t come to you when something minor happens. 

“Are you at the studio?” There’s a pause.

“Yeah, I took over the youth classes this week.” 

“I’ll be there in 10.” You hang up before he can object. 

You pick up the pace and make it to the studio in 8 minutes on the dot, instantly spotting Hoseok on one of the benches in the hallway, towel wrapped around his hand, a few little bodies gathered around him. 

When he sees you, he tries not to get excited, but he’d been really missing your presence the past couple of days and knowing you were here to help him made his heart beat pick up a bit. 

You approached him carefully, the children all parting to make way for you, staring at your scrubs and first aid bag. 

Before he knows it, you’re knelt down in front of him, taking his hand in yours as you peel away the towel to assess the damage. 

Along his palm close to his thumb is three inch cut leading down to his wrist. It doesn’t look super deep, but deep enough to warrant stitches. You were glad you’d brought your first aid bag with you everywhere, you’d have enough supplies to sew it right up.

While you check him for any other injuries, he can’t help but marvel at how pretty you look when you’re focused like this. 

Wait, did he just call you pretty? 

1. He’s supposed to be mad at you for abandoning him.

2. He’s never been attracted to a member, well ex-member in your case, before

The dam was already breached, though, and now that’s all he could think about as you start getting your supplies out and asking him what happened.

He didn’t even realize he’d zoned out just staring at you until you snapped your fingers in front of his face to wake him up. 

“What?,” was all he could manage before the sound of little giggles causes a redness to creep up his neck. You just shake your head with a playful smirk.

“I said, ‘How the heck did you manage this while babysitting?’” 

One of the children scoff, marching up to you to inform you that they are not babies and they do not need to be sat on. All you can do is laugh and apologize, turning back to Hobi who,  again, is just staring at you like you suddenly sprouted two heads or something. 

“I, uh, was helping another room change a light bulb when I lost my balance and shattered it in my hand.” Saying it out loud made him feel even dumber than he did when it actually happened. 

You wanted to tease him for it, but you could see the embarrassment on his face, and figured he’d been through enough for one morning. 

“Well, you’re lucky I brought my kit with me, you’re gonna need a couple stitches, but it shouldn’t take long.” 

He hears the words stitches and retracts his hand back, cringing. Hoseok wasn’t really afraid of needles, but now that he’s coming face to face with one, he thinks he should recant that. 

You can feel him tense, knowing that the tenser he gets, the more painful it would be. Without even thinking or realizing, you glide your fingers over his hand, holding it gently, almost caressing it. Hoseok can feel the pain subsiding, even as you clean the wound and he can see the needle going through his skin. 

He doesn’t want to look away when he sees a familiar glow extend from your fingertips to his skin, but if he looks at the needle one more time he swears he’ll puke. 

Luckily, the children had all been whisked away by another instructor so you and Hoseok could have some room. 

It takes maybe a few seconds before you’re all done, tying the thread and placing gauze over the area. 

You gently wrap around his wrist and hand a few times, securing it, and putting all your used equipment in a bio-hazard bag to dispose of later. 

“There, all better.” You say, tapping his knee gently as he looks over his wrap. 

Smiling, he stands up, offering his other hand out to you to help you up. When you’re on your feet, your hand lingers in Hoseok’s for a moment, before you pull away. 

“Next time, be more careful, okay?” You dust your scrubs off, heft your bag over your shoulder, and turn to leave, when he stops you. 

He rests his hand on your shoulder, not really knowing what else to do. He wants to hug you, but it’s not the right time or place for that and he’s not really sure where you stand with him. 

Instead, he says, “Thank you,” and gives your shoulder a light squeeze. Hoseok turns back down the hallway, heading towards another room, while you watch him until he closes the door. 

Walking home, you still feel his fingers on your shoulder, the warmth of his hand in yours. 

Maybe you don’t have to cut off Hoseok completely. 

—

After Hoseok’s little accident, he’d come to the conclusion that the only way to get your attention was to appeal to your healer’s side. 

This surmounted to him calling you every day with questions about his injury. 

‘Can I get it wet?,’ ‘Is it supposed to itch?,’ ‘I think it looks infected, what does an infection look like?” 

Needless to say, after the second day, you were officially annoyed with him. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know if your stitches are infected, so why the hell was he you with every little paranoia of his?

Hoseok’s answer is simple: to force you to talk to him. 

Now, Hoseok didn’t like annoying you, well, not too much, and he didn’t like having you think he was a complete idiot, but he didn’t know any other way to get to you. 

You kicked him out of the E.R., you stopped coming to class, and you refused to let him into your building when he showed up. 

So, he resorted to incessant phone calls. Not his best plan, but the best one he’s got right now. 

You were cleaning up your apartment, taking advantage of having the whole day off, when your phone starts to ring again and you have half a mind to ignore it. 

The guilt eats away at you by the third ring, though, and you answer with a loud sigh to let Hobi know he was getting on your nerves. 

“That’s no way to answer the phone when a patient is calling.” You can picture the smug grin on his face, fist curling tight, the urge to reach right through the phone and ring his neck simmering in your veins. 

“Hoseok, I swear to God, if you call me one more time with some stupid question, I’m going to get a restraining order.” 

There a dramatic fake gasp on the other end of the line, your eyes rolling on instinct. 

“Well good thing I’m not calling with a question this time then.” 

“What do you want then?” There’s a long pause, one you’re assuming is on purpose for effect. 

“I’m calling to propose a deal.” You can’t say you’re not intrigued. What kind of deal could Hoseok possibly be proposing to you, and what the hell would you have to do.

“Alright, shoot.” 

“I will stop calling you with dumb questions if you agree to come back to class.” A laugh escapes your lips before you can cover your mouth, but Hobi just ignores it, waiting for your answer.

“Or, I could just block your number.” 

“Then I’d have to resort to coming to your apartment.” 

“I’d call the cops.”

“I could always show up to the hospital and threaten to sue when you deny me care?” 

You shake your head even though he can’t see. 

“Alright, alright, enough with crazy threats, why do you want me to come back to class so bad anyways?” 

He’s silent because he’s not sure if he should make a joke or tell the truth. You were finally listening to him, really listening, and he didn’t want to mess it up. 

“You’re the best pop and locker I know.” Ugh, that was so stupid, but you’re laughing so maybe it wasn’t a total loss.

“Alright, now what’s the real reason?” 

He’s nervous now, but he thinks of something that he knows you can’t pass up.

“The group misses you, you’re family after all.” 

He knew exactly what buttons to push, and the loneliness button was the hardest hitting one. You missed them too, so much. You’d never laughed, played, and goofed around that much in your life. That studio was the one place you felt at home. 

“I don’t know Hobi, I’m pretty busy with work...” you trail off, and Hoseok has to keep his cool even though you finally addressed him by his nickname after dropping the full name bomb on him every time you’ve talked to him since your falling out. 

“Please.” He sounded almost desperate, but that’s what he was feeling right now. Hoseok didn’t know why, but he needed you to come back. He wanted everything to go back to normal. He wanted you to come back to him. 

After mulling it over in your head, you decide that dance class would be better than annoying phone calls. This would also give you a chance to look after Hobi so he would stop hurting himself. 

“Fine, I’ll come back.” Hoseok drops the phone in his moment of excitement, scrambling to pick it up off the floor.

“Great, I'll see you tomorrow then.” 

“See you tomorrow, Hobi.” 

—

“Hobi, I literally saw you do that on purpose.” 

This was the third time this week he ‘accidentally’ tripped over his own two feet and got hurt. This man has been dancing for years, there was no way he’d trip over his feet that easily. 

He was usually so graceful and calculated, but lately he was reckless and all over the place.

Hobi wouldn’t admit it, but he liked when you babied him, so he may or may not have been acting less careful lately. It was never anything serious, just minor bumps and scrapes, but he just loved when you’d hold his hand and get him an ice pack, or clean a scrap and cover it with a cute little band-aid that were supposed to be for the kids. 

His favorite thing was the warm tingle he got when you touched him as you tended to him, the soft glow on your fingertips leaving him in awe every time, even though he had to pretend he never saw it. 

You were catching on, though, and finally caught him in the act. You knew he was doing it on purpose, and now you knew why. He was curious about your gift.

Class wrapped up, and you are about to grab your things and head out when you hear the click of a lock. 

You turn to see Hobi standing at the door, keys in his hands. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, slowly approaching him.

He just stares at you, unsure of how to bring up the fact that he knows there is something different about you, something not human.

You’re tired from class and not ready to deal with the third degree from Hobi on why your hands glow sometimes, so you roll your eyes and reach for his keys. He quickly pulls away, holding them high above both of your heads.

“Using your height against me, how rude.” You jump, trying to grab them from his hands, but even with your most powerful lunge, you can’t reach them. Hoseok’s trying not to enjoy this too much, but it’s impossible with how cute you look, hopping like a little bunny. 

It gets old quick, so you stand there, arms crossed, “What do you want?” 

“Are we not friends Y/N?” You look at him confused.

“Of course were friends Hobi, now let’s go.” 

“Then why don’t you trust me?”

You knew this would come up again, especially after the increase in his curiosity about it. You had patched things up with a Hobi, returning back to your normal dynamic rather quickly, but you still felt like you weren’t ready to share that part of you with him, let alone anyone. 

“I do trust you, Hobi.”

“Then why won’t you tell me about your hands?” There it was, all laid out in the open. Either you could confront it head on, or bury your head in the sand.

“Hobi, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m tired, can we just go home?” You reach for the door handle, but Hobi grabs your hand first. It’s not a tight grip, more like a comforting, soothing one. 

He doesn’t know how else to show you he cares about you.

“You can tell me, anything, I promise.” When you look in his eyes, you know that he’s telling the truth. You want to trust him, confide in him, assure him that you care about him too, but you can’t find the words. 

You turn your head away, facing the door, and dropping his hand, “Can we just go, please, Hoseok.”

And just like that he dropped it and unlocked the door. All it took was the slight fear that you were building that wall again and he backed off. He wasn’t going to push you away again. 

The walk home is silent, neither of you knowing where to go from there. You make your way up to the front door of your apartment building and turn back to Hoseok.

“I really do trust you Hobi.” 

He looks over his shoulder at you, managing a smile even though he feels a bit emptier inside, “Goodnight Y/N.”

You manage to return your own pathetic smile, “Goodnight Hobi.”

—

After waiting around in the studio with the rest of the crew for 30 minutes, you decide to try and ring him again. Holding the phone to your ear, you pray that he answers this time, but instead get the tone for his voicemail.

After an hour, everyone decides to go home, but you book it to Hobi’s place. After knocking on the door for 5 minutes straight, and elderly woman opens the door and lets you in.

“Do you know what apartment number Jung Hoseok lives in?” You ask, slightly out of breath from the run to his place. 

“Up the stairs, first door on the left.” She smiles, and you take the steps two at a time until you make it to the second floor. You locate his door and knock three times, waiting for an answer. 

You get nothing, and start to panic. 

‘What if he fell and knocked himself unconscious?,’ ‘What if he’s having an allergic reaction and slowly suffocating?’ 

The fear quickly takes over, causing you fist to bang repeatedly on the door, frantic. 

“Hobi? Hobi! Open up, are you okay?!?” The loud thump and the shuffling of feet cause you to pause your ministrations. 

Suddenly, the door slowly creaks open, revealing a pale and sickly look Hobi wrapped in a blanket, a tissue tucked into his hood.

You just stare at him, taking in everything. He looked like death.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be here-cough-I don’t want you to get sick.” 

You roll your eyes and let yourself in, helping him hobble his way back to his best on the couch. There are tissue and open medicine everywhere, and don’t even get you started on the smell. 

Maybe something actually did die in here.

“Hobi, I’m around sick people all the time, I’ll be fine.”

You hold his arms, lowering him back onto the couch, watching sympathetically as he cuddles back into the piles of blankets, a sneeze escaping as he does so.

You kneel down in front of him, a smile overtaking your lips, and in Hobi’s illness induced fever dream, he swears you look like an angel.

He tries to smile, but starts coughing, but you get the gist. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were sick? We were all worried about you.”

You place your hand on his forehead, cringing at how hot his skin is. He’s burning up and you didn’t know how long he’s had a fever.

“I didn’t want to worry anyone.” 

“Well, obviously that didn’t work, I ran here like a madman thinking you’d died or something.” 

He laughs weakly, “See? Not so fun being ghosted, is it?” You fight the urge to smack his shoulder, considering he’s so weak.

Instead, you take his hands in yours, rubbing his thumbs with yours. 

“I’m sorry, let’s just agree to talk to each other, honestly, from now on.”

“It’s a deal.” 

You smile, focusing all your energy into your hands. Hobi stares at you, unsure what to say next, when he notices the light coming from your entwined hands. He watches in disbelief as the light flows from your fingertips to his skin, leaving a trail of warmth that flows through his veins. 

He starts to feel less nauseous and dizzy, his chest less congested and his nose no longer runny.

He lifts his eyes back up to yours, catching you staring at him, as if to check on him. 

“You were right, about me not trusting you before, but I do now, fully trust you.” 

Hoseok feels like he could do anything right now, and what he wants to do most is kiss you, right here, right now. 

Then he remembers he’s still sick technically, and your surrounded by used tissues and sweat soaked blankets and decides he doesn’t want your first kiss to be in this mess.

You giggle, seeing him go through all of those emotions as he mulls it over in his head. He’s worse at hiding things when he’s sick.

You just lean forward, pressing your lips to his forehead.

He can’t help but close his eyes, the cool sensation of your lips on his warm forehead releasing all the rigidity in his body and dissipating it in the surrounding air. 

“How about when I’m better, I take you on an official date?” He’d insist the red on his cheeks was from the illness.

Yours, though, was definitely a blush.

“I’d like that.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      Here it is, Hobi’s story in all its angsty and fluffy glory. Sorry this one is going up a bit late, this one took me a while to finish. Honestly wanted to go into more detail on some things but I didn’t want to make it too long. Hope you guys will enjoy it nonetheless. This story made my heart hurt a little bit, not gonna lie, I really like this one. Now we just have Jimin, Tae, and Kookie left💜 Stay Spooky!

-Moonie🌙

JUNGKOOK: HYUNG ASK HIM IF HE ACCEPTS CREDIT CARDS | Cr twt incorrectkimjin