Bts Short Stories - Tumblr Posts
Sweet Serendipity (Jimin x Faerie!Reader)
Genre: Supernatural Au, Fluff, Angst
Warnings: Explicit language, brief mention of assault (very brief), POV switching
Word Count: 6K
“I swear to God,” Jimin mumbles to himself, grabbing the giant textbook Namjoon had left when he spent the night and smacks it repeatedly against the wall, “if they don’t shut up, I’m going to kill someone.”
This wasn’t the first time he had thrown empty threats into the air when his neighbors got too rowdy. In fact, this was a normal occurrence for him.
Neighbors start being assholes, Jimin finds anything he can to beat the shit out of his walls with in hopes they’ll get the message, surprise-surprise, they don’t, and the cycle starts all over again.
Oh, how he wished he hadn’t signed a long-ass lease so he could just move away and forget those idiots ever existed, but fate had other plans for him, plans that included him being miserable for the next year with no way out of it.
Huffing back to the couch, the incessant noise plaguing his every sense, Jimin pulls out his phone and brings up a text conversation.
Me
-Kook, you busy? Assholes next door are at it again, could really use a break.
He sends the text and tucks his phone back into his pocket, opting to plug his headphones in and turn the volume on his laptop up so loud, either he won’t be able to hear them over the movie, or he’ll blow his eardrums. At this point, it’s a win-win.
A few hours pass, his movie long forgotten, and Jimin may or may not be trying to smother himself with a pillow as he lays sprawled across his bed. He checks his phone for the 10th time in the last hour, and decides Jungkook is definitely not getting back to him, and he’ll have to suffer alone.
As if it’s not bad enough he has to deal with mind-numbing noise all day every day, but add on his best friend never. fucking. answering him? What did he ever do to deserve this? And what if it was an emergency, and Jungkook was the only thing between life and death for Jimin? Well, he hopes it never comes down to that, because he honestly has little-to-no faith left in the kid.
Day slowly fades to night and Jimin thinks he’s actually, truly going insane. He wants more than anything to find the courage to march next door, slam the door open, and tell them to shut the fuck up.
He would not find it today, though, and goes through his normal night routine before putting his headphones on as he crawls into bed. Soft melodies drown out the noise as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion.
Maybe tomorrow would be a new day.
—
Jimin was still waiting for that ‘new day’ a week later. The past few days had been so bad he’d decided to hang out with Namjoon in his dorm, which he never did. Another thing on his list of hates: Joon’s dorm. It was loud, but not as loud as his apartment complex, so he was thankful for that. The worst part about it was Joon’s annoying roommate.
He’d tried to get a single, but was put in a double last minute, no chance to pick a roommate. So, he was stuck with some annoying ass guy who left his shit all over the room and constantly had people coming in and out.
Namjoon usually escaped to Jimin’s place when he couldn’t take it anymore, but at this point, it was a double ended blade.
So, they would suffer together in the lesser of the two evils.
“I wish we could just get a place together. Then we wouldn’t have to deal with all these idiots.” Jimin ends his rant with a loud huff, even though he knew there was no use. Rent anywhere close to campus was way too expensive for both of their budgets, and then there was the whole lease thing still looming over Jimin’s head like a freaking noose.
Namjoon gives his friend a small sympathetic smile before turning back to his textbook.
Midterms were coming fast and he wanted to be 100% prepped and ready. He wouldn’t tell Jimin that he really needed to study and that they could hang another time. Just by looking at him, Joon could tell he was at his wits end.
“Why don’t you go down to the manager and complain again?” Namjoon knows he’s just grasping straws here, but he had to try something.
He didn’t like seeing Jimin slinking around all sad and wallowing. He missed the upbeat, bright spark that made his friend the spitfire he truly is. That complex was trying to snuff him out, but Namjoon wouldn’t have it.
“I’ve filed multiple complaints and they don’t do shit.” Jimin crosses his arms, growing more infuriated at the situation by the second.
“Maybe this time will be different?” Jimin just rolls his eyes and grabs his stuff.
“If you wanted me to leave, you could’ve just said so.” He doesn’t wait for Namjoon to react, slamming the door behind him and heading home. Ha, ‘home.’
That place would never be a home to Jimin.
Despite his reluctance at putting any more faith in the poor management of his complex, he figures it can’t hurt to stop in and let them know the noise hasn’t stopped.
“We are aware. We are looking into it.”
That was it, that was always it. He couldn’t even bother being angry, it just wasn’t worth it anymore. Instead of taking the elevator, he opts for the stairs to give himself time to mentally prepare.
By the time he gets to his floor, he’s a little out of breath, but in the distance he can hear the noise already wafting through the halls. It sucks every remaining drop of energy from his body, and he all but drags himself to his door, cringing at how loud the noise is when right next to it.
After locking the door and abandoning his stuff on the floor he throws himself onto his bed, covers his head with a pillow and falls asleep.
His dreams are filled with glorious images of moving out, living in a peaceful place, and never having to see or hear his neighbors ever again.
—
Jimin decides the next few weeks are a good time to pull a Jungkook and ghost everyone.
He doesn’t answer Namjoon when he texts and asks him if he’s alright.
He doesn’t answer Hoseok’s calls about dance class.
He doesn’t even answer the door when Jungkook finally does show up.
“Come on Chim, I just want to make sure you’re still alive.” Kook raps on the door a few more times, pressing his ear to the wood when he hears footsteps.
“Like you care, I could’ve been dead for days and you wouldn’t have noticed.” Jimin doesn’t open the door, instead yells through the wall while he makes himself a cup of coffee.
Staying in bed every day was actually making him more tired than being up, which he didn’t think was possible.
Kook just laughs, twisting the locked handle a few times, “Chim, I’m sorry, just let me innnnnnn.” He drags it out in hopes Jimin will get annoyed and open the door.
It doesn’t happen though, Jimin just goes back to his bed, cuddling up in the blankets before yelling back, “Nope, go find someone else to bother.”
At least now Jungkook could let the others know Jimin is indeed still alive, just throwing himself a pity party. Jimin can be dramatic sometimes, so it’s not really a surprise when he pulls out the theatrics.
“Alright, I’ll leave you to your misery.” Kook is disappointed his friend doesn’t want his help right now, but he knows that sometimes Jimin just needs to be alone for a while to get over things.
After Jungkook leaves, Jimin decides he can at least text everyone that he is in fact alive so they won’t show up at his door again. Once it’s sent, he unpauses the movie he was watching and continues his wallow fest.
It’s the next day when he notices that there hasn’t been a noise, not even a peep from his neighbors.
He’s getting dressed after a long shower, heading into the kitchen to grab some breakfast before he forces himself to go see the boys, when he realizes, ‘I haven’t heard anything from next door this whole week.’
It’s enough to sufficiently freak him out and question his sanity. They have been loud as hell since Jimin moved in, no quiet since then, so what the hell was going on?
Deciding to skip breakfast, he grabs his keys and jacket, heading out the door when he takes a quick glance at the next door over. It looked exactly the same, the only change being a cute little doormat at the door.
While it was a little odd, considering he’s pretty sure there are a bunch of guys living next door, and that doormat screams ‘girl,’ it’s not enough to make him think anything drastic has happened.
‘Maybe one of them got a girlfriend,’ he thinks to himself, even though he’s not sure how that could be possible with how awful they are.
Jimin doesn’t want to waste any more time thinking about his neighbors, heading to the elevator and out to meet the guys to hang for the day.
“Ah, the Great Park Jimin, he lives!” Jin yells, causing Yoongi and Namjoon to shake their heads in embarrassment as the other three whoop and holler like it was Jimin’s homecoming.
Needless to say, it was nice to be around his favorite people after walling himself away for over a week.
He needed to let himself let loose and have some fun or he was sure he was going to actually lose it.
They ended up spending the whole day just walking around, doing a little shopping, and enjoying each others company. The boys are a family, so they couldn’t go very long without getting together.
They all part ways a block away from Jimin’s building, Jungkook heading with Jimin after promising to spend the night if Jimin helps him beat a new level in one of his favorite video games.
The walk back is full of laughs and the two of them play fighting each other, until they see one of Jimin’s neighbors in a moving truck parked outside the building. Jimin nudges Jungkook, pointing at the truck and Kook just watches on, confused.
Another one of his neighbors exits the building with a box, hefting it into the back of the truck and promptly hops in the passenger side, the truck taking off.
“Did I just see that right?” Jimin asks out loud, to no one particular, maybe Kook or maybe the universe. They climb the steps and enter the lobby, Jimin quickly heading over to the front desk to ask about the situation.
“Yeah, they’ve been in the process of leaving for a few weeks now, finally got the rest of their stuff out today.”
“That’s amazing-“ Jimin didn’t mean to sound as excited as he was at the neighbors leaving, but he couldn’t help himself.
“There’s already a new tenant, she moved her stuff in fast.”
Jimin’s ears started to turn red at the tips; he’d never lived next door to a girl before.
“A girl?” Jungkook butts into the conversation all too excitedly, causing the woman at the desk to roll her eyes.
“She’s kind of weird though,” the woman mutters to herself, loud enough for the boys to hear her.
Jimin doesn’t care if she’s weird, at least his awful neighbors were finally gone and he’d have some peace and quiet. Jungkook doesn’t care if she’s weird, because it’s a girl; his best friend lives next to a girl.
Jimin has to hold Kook by his collar, almost like he was on a leash, just to reign him in and stop him from running up to your door.
Jimin unlocks his own door, shoving Jungkook inside before pausing in the doorway to glance over to the door next to him.
A girl, huh?
That night, Jungkook gets bored after wasting an hour trying to hear anything from your side of the wall and settles on getting his game on. Jimin makes them some popcorn for the long quest ahead, but finds himself drawn out onto the terrace before he sits down to join Kook.
As he slides open the door, he looks over to your terrace to see a flash of hair as your door promptly shuts, curtains drawing to hide you from the world.
Jimin just stares at your door, watching the curtain sway back and forth, hoping that maybe you’d come back out and he’d get to see you.
After a few minutes, Jungkook is yelling at him to get his butt inside and help him beat some boss, and Jimin can’t help but let his curiosity grow as he wonders what the girl next door is like.
—
Jimin is the first to wake up the next morning, promptly shoving Jungkook away from, even though he’s pretty sure he told him to sleep on the couch. Rubbing his eyes, he makes his way out to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of juice when he notices the corner of a paper sticking out from under his door.
The closer he gets, he smells the scent of freshly baked goods floating from the hallway. As he opens the door, he looks down to see a little basket with a pink napkin over the top.
Jimin’s never gotten anything at his door before, so he’s rightfully confused, looking up and down the hallway for a sign of who might’ve left this for him.
Kneeling down to look in the basket, he moves the napkin to find a few little sweet buns, each with their own little decoration.
They’re cute and they smell absolutely delicious, but he’s paranoid that he doesn’t know who left them. It’s when he picks the basket up he notices the paper sat underneath it.
It’s a small note, ‘From your new neighbor.’ You even signed it with a little heart, but no name.
Jimin looks from the note to your door, no sign of life from behind it and decides it would be rude to leave them out in the hall.
He sets the basket down on the counter, fishing around one of the kitchen drawers until he finds a pen and a pad of sticky notes.
‘Thank you for the treats. -Jimin’ It was short and simple, just to let you know he appreciated it. Returning to the hall, he sticks the note to your door, letting his fingers linger on the wood before he turns back to his own place.
Jungkook could apparently smell them from Jimin’s room, walking out wide-eyed as he surveyed the basket.
“You have a secret admirer or something I don’t know about Chim?” Jimin can feel his cheeks heat up the slightest at Kook’s comment, but brushes it off.
“Just a gift from the new neighbor.” As soon as he hears ‘neighbor’, Jungkook starts making faces at Jimin, teasing him that they’d meet and fall in love and all that romantic mushy crap.
Jimin just promptly shoves one of the buns in Kooks face, to which he happily takes in his mouth.
The best way to get Jungkook to shut up? Give him food.
A few hours go by and Jungkook decides he’s gonna head home, so Jimin walks him out, mostly to be a good friend, but also to check your door and see if you had gotten his note.
When he comes back up from the lobby, the note is gone and a new one lies on his door.
‘You’re welcome, I hope you liked them,’ scrawled neatly across the pink stationary, a little bee and heart in the corner. It was so cute, everything regarding you so far was cute. Your door mat, your baked goods, your handwriting, Jimin could only wonder how cute you were.
He again grabs his paper and writes another note, sticking it to your door in the same place.
As he touches the paper to the door, he hears shuffling in your apartment. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to stick his ear up to the door to listen for you. Instead he waits to make sure you won’t come out while he’s standing there like a weirdo, and then turns back to his apartment, escaping inside.
Jimin hears your door open and close, a part of him kicking himself for not staying to see you in person. He just had a feeling, though, that you’d meet face to face when the moment was right, and this wasn’t it. So, he’d push away the nagging thoughts and opt for some quiet time in front of the TV for a while instead.
The hope that he’d get to see your face someday soon was enough to keep him awake almost all night.
—
‘Why were you screaming at your TV?’ Was all the note said, besides a little laughing emoji in the bottom corner. Jimin just chuckles a bit to himself before grabbing another note from his door to write you a new one.
‘Because, the characters in my show are the worst!’ Up it goes in the same place, just like the many that came before.
It’d been a few weeks since the note passing had started, and you and Jimin were closer than every, well, in theory.
It started with little gifts you’d leave in front of each others doors, along with little notes. Then it was a note every day, sometimes even multiple a day. The more notes shared between the two of you, the bolder you were getting.
You’d play your music a little louder after Jimin praised your taste, watch the same movie at the same time so it was like you were watching it with him. Sometimes he’d even whisper goodnight to you through the wall, which you always replied back to.
The giddiness in his heart had grown tenfold, and the anticipation of seeing you in person was growing.
He’d left a note for you a week and a half ago asking when he could see you, actually see you, to which you only replied, ‘soon.’
Hoseok called early this morning to ask Jimin if he could come in and help with classes all day, to which Jimin was happy to do. He was happier to do a lot of things, now that his living situation had done a complete 180. The boys all noticed the extra pep in his step once you two had started leaving notes for each other, and while Namjoon was wary that it could all be too good to be true, the rest were just glad he wasn’t a mope anymore.
The day was exhausting considering Jimin hadn’t formally been back to the studio for a week or two, but it felt good to move and stretch his muscles again. He was remembering how fun life can be when he’s not miserable all the time.
Hanging with Hoseok while teaching some youth dancers a new routine was exactly what Jimin needed right now, just mindless fun and some time to be a leader. He liked having the young dancers look up to him and enjoy learning with him.
When the day finally came to a close, Hoseok offers to get Jimin a ride, but Jimin decides he rather likes the cool air on his sweaty skin and tells him he’ll just walk home. The studio isn’t too far from his place and he likes to watch the cars pass by illuminated by the streetlights.
Jimin gets lost in his thoughts; about class, about the next scheduled outing with the boys, even about you.
He doesn’t even realize it, but he’s smiling to himself just thinking about what note you could possibly have left him tonight. Maybe tonight would be the night he’d get to meet you properly.
All of his thoughts, though, get set aside when he sees a girl, roughly his age, being harassed by some sleazy guy outside of his building.
—
You hadn’t planned on going out this evening, figuring there was enough to do inside to keep you occupied. It was when you realized you were out of sugar for the cookies you wanted to bake for Jimin that you decided it couldn’t hurt to take a quick trip to the supermarket down the street.
You pull on your sweatshirt, hiking the hood up over your head, grabbing your bag and keys, and head out. You take a quick peek at your door to see the note Jimin left behind.
You smile as you read it, stuffing it in your pocket and heading out.
The walk to the market and buying the sugar was easy. It was still kind of light out when you left, and nobody had approached you while you scoured the market for the sugar.
It was the walk home that ruined everything.
Sometimes you cursed yourself for how you always seemed to draw in the worst people. While you also could attract the nicest of people, it seemed that the bad ones were easier and in abundance.
On your way back, bag of sugar in one hand, your keys in the other, you could feel the sensation of someone watching you. You didn’t want to seem paranoid, so you just picked up pace and kept your eyes locked ahead.
It was when you could finally see the steps of the building in your vision that you felt a hand wrap around your forearm, yanking you backwards.
Stupidly enough, you couldn’t force yourself to scream, you just yelped at the searing force the figure used and tried to rip yourself from him.
“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out so late by yourself.” You didn’t want to look at the man, his voice sending chills down your spine and the air thickening so much around you, you felt like you were suffocating.
For some reason, people lost their sense of boundaries when around you, which you didn’t understand at all. It’s like people felt like they owned you almost, like the air you put off gave them the right to act like you owed them something.
Your mother always credited it to your blind generosity and kindness, but sometimes things just went too far.
“Leave me alone, please.” Your voice was soft and tight, holding back your tears as best you could. You didn’t want to seem like you were utterly defenseless.
As your grip on your keys tightened, enough to, with the right movement, hit the guy to get away, a voice cuts through the air.
“Hey, she said leave her alone.” Your head shoots to the side, a boy with brown hair and a black sweatshirt coming into your vision. His features were soft and delicate, but the look on his face showed stone-cold seriousness.
He slowly approached, looking at how the man’s hand was coiled tightly around your arm. Lifting one hand up in defense, he looks from you to the man, “Look, just let go and get out of here, there’s a security guard right in the building, so just let it go man.”
The sleaze looks from the boy, to you, to the building. It’s then that he sees the security cameras trained on him that he promptly lets go of you, shoving you to the ground and taking off.
The boy rushes over to you, calmly as not to startle you more than you already were and grabs your hands, helping you to your feet.
You look down at the busted bag of sugar on the sidewalk and sigh, letting a few tears slip out on accident.
You were frustrated to say the least, why could people be so awful?
The boy picks up the bag, trying not to spill too much more out of it and turns to you.
“Are you okay?” He watches a single tear slip down your cheek and his heart clenches in his chest. How dare some asshole hurt someone, especially an innocent girl like you.
You shake yourself to bring yourself back to reality and attempt a pathetic smile, “I’m fine. Thank you for that. You didn’t have to.” You go to take the bag from his hands but he pulls it closer to him.
“Yes I did, no one deserves to be attacked like that.”
He looks in your eyes for a moment, assuring you that he wouldn’t have acted any other way than helping you. It was what any good person would do; what any decent person would do.
“Well, thank you, again. I can take that,” you say, pointing to the bag settled in his arms.
He shakes it a bit, forgetting the split and sending more sugar to the concrete. You can’t help but let out a little giggle at how his face drops when he realizes what he’d done.
“I can carry it for you, then you won’t have to walk alone.” He smiles, bright and it’s contagious, spreading a smile to your lips.
You shift your body and point to the building ahead, “That’s okay, I live right here anyways.”
His eyes beam wide, “Wait, you live here?” He asks excitedly.
“Yeah, why?”
“So do I!” He exclaims, following you as you ascend the steps into the lobby. He follows you to the elevator, stepping in behind you. He goes to push the button to his floor after you push yours, but he realizes you just pushed the same button.
“You live on the fourth floor too?” You turn to look at him, shock present on both of your faces.
You’re wondering who this mystery guy might be, both nervous and excited about all these crazy coincidences. It’s when he follows you to your door, which resides right next to his, that you both stare at each other, it finally hitting you.
“Jimin?” You ask, and he nods. You can’t help the butterflies erupting in your stomach, finally face to face with the boy next door.
Jimin was about to pass out, his inner self jumping up and down, screaming, everything to celebrate finally meeting his neighbor, but on the outside, he tries to play it cool.
“You never actually told me your name,” he says, looking at you expectantly.
Slowly bringing your hand out to him, you hold it out, “Y/N.”
He grasps your hand in a light shake, fingers lingering a bit longer than they should have.
He clears his throat, lifting the bag to point to your door, “Maybe we should take this inside?”
You turn and unlock your door, mentally preparing yourself for the fact that you were letting someone into your home for the first time. How crazy that the first person you’d invite inside would be the mystery neighbor you were dying to meet?
Jimin sets the sad sack of sugar on your counter, cringing when it spills out onto the surface, but you just shake your head and tell him it’s fine.
“So, you're the girl who saved me from the awful people that used to live here?”
He’s standing awkwardly by the door, unsure if it’s alright to come in and make himself at home or not. You’re not sure how to interact with strangers in your home, but Jimin at least wasn’t a total stranger.
“Guilty as charged, I guess.” He smiles when you let another giggle escape.
“Do you want to,” you gesture to the tea kettle on the stove, “stay for tea?”
Jimin spots the time on your oven and realizes how late it is. He promised Namjoon he’d meet him at the library early tomorrow morning, and he also just now realizes how gross and sweaty he is from class.
“It’s actually pretty late, I should probably head to bed.” He hates himself, more than he ever has at any other moment in his life.
He’d finally come face to face with the girl whose been occupying his every thought, and he’s turning down time to spend with her?
When he looks at your face, you’re not upset with him like he expects you to be.
“Another time then, it’s not like it’s a far walk from your place to mine.” Another giggle that sends shivers up and down his spine, red tinging the tips of his ears.
“Right, absolutely.” You smile at each other, not sure where to go from there. Jimin turns around, grabbing the edge of your door, looking at you over his shoulder.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
Your cheeks flush pink, warmed by the amount of concern lacing every word.
“Yes, Jimin, I’m fine, thanks to you.” He can feel his entire face heat up and he wants to turn away so you won’t see.
“Goodnight Y/N,” he says quickly, walking forward, pulling the door with him.
“Goodnight Jimin.” And then the door shuts.
You hear him open and close his door, huff loudly into most likely a pillow and you presume he must have went to take a shower.
The walls weren’t the thickest in this complex, so it didn’t leave much to the imagination.
Lifting the bag off the counter, you set it in the sink to take care of tomorrow.
You can just make Jimin cookies and take them to him tomorrow as well.
—
The more time you spent actually hanging around Jimin, the more you found yourself opening up. You’d always been quite introverted, hiding yourself away in your home.
Jimin made opening up fun. You would go over to his place, watch him play video games or make him dinner after you’d found out he basically lived off of take-out.
He’d come over to your place and insist on watching you bake, even helping out when you told him you’d teach him how to make those sweet buns you'd left for him the first day.
Notes were replaced with actual words, whether that be you or him barging into each other’s places to rant about something stupid on TV or yelling playfully at each other through the walls.
It was like having a roommate you didn’t really share the living space with.
You’d both grown so comfortable with each other over time, it was like you’d been best friends for years.
You’d show up in your pajamas to watch movies and sometimes he’d barge in to your place dripping wet wrapped only in a towel to steal your shampoo because his had ‘run out.’ In actuality, he just liked the smell of yours better.
He introduced you to his friend group rather quickly, and you’d found yourself sucked in immediately.
Taehyung would chase Jungkook around Jimin’s place to avenge the food he’d steal from your plate, while Namjoon would come up with clever ways you could get rid of both of them without anyone knowing.
You’d even let Yoongi sleep on your couch a few times after he’d fall asleep during a movie you’d all be watching.
They were like family to you in an instant and you felt so at home with them, more than you’d ever had with anyone in your life before.
Jimin loved having you as his best friend and he loved that you’d become his friends’ friend as well.
The only issue came up when Jimin realized he had non-platonic feelings for you. Of course he had a crush on you when you first met, but as you grew closer, you’d become such good friends that the crush sort of fizzled out. Suddenly, watching you show Jungkook how to ice a cookie, he realized he didn’t like you just as a friend. He liked you.
Every time he’d try to flirt with you or subtly drop hints of his affection for you, you’d never picked up on it. He was friend zoned again and again and again.
Jimin was too worried about ruining your friendship, so he decided he’d just keep it to himself and move on. You were too important to him to jeopardize what you already had.
—
Fast forward a few months and bring in Jiwoo, Namjoon’s friend from school, and Jimin thinks he’s finally over his hopeless crush on you.
Jimin started making plans with Jiwoo, spending more time with just her and leaving you behind.
You were happy he found someone, especially someone as sweet as Jiwoo. She was everything he needed, she’d be good for him, so you weren’t going to get in the way.
While you grew lonely the less and less you saw Jimin, you couldn’t blame him for enjoying himself. He deserved to love and be loved.
Luckily, the boys knew that there was something more between you and Jimin, you both were just ‘too dumb,’ in Yoongi’s opinion, to see it.
While Jimin was off with Jiwoo pretending he was over you, the boys decided it was their duty to watch over you and keep you occupied.
They could tell you were hurting more than you were letting on, especially when Jin stopped in to ask you if you wanted to go get coffee and found you on the couch crying over a romantic movie.
Of course, not knowing what to do, he told the rest of the guys and ‘Plan: Get the Dummies Together’ (named through the joint effort of Jungkook and Taehyung’s last brain cells) commenced.
Namjoon didn’t want to interfere at first, but when he saw how sad you looked as you watched Jimin take Jiwoo over to his place, he knew something had to be done, and the other boys couldn’t be trusted to do it right.
According to the plan, Namjoon and Hoseok would occupy Jimin to get him away from Jiwoo as much as possible. During this time, they’d talk mostly about you.
The rest of the boys were tasked with keeping you happy. Cooking, walks, shopping, it didn’t matter as long as you were smiling and not crying.
After a few days of initiating the plan, Jimin pulled Namjoon aside to ask him what was going on. They weren’t the best at being subtle, so it didn’t take long for him to catch on.
“You know you’re a literal idiot, right?” Namjoon sighs, Hobi nodding.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin didn’t think his best friends would attack him so openly like this, but he’s more concerned what brought it on than their attitude.
“Y/N.” Hobi says, the both of them just looking at him like he’d kicked a puppy or something.
There’s a tinge of guilt swirling around in the pit of his stomach, but he forces himself to ignore it, “What about her?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you? You L-O-V-E her and she L-O-V-E-S you dipshit.”
That takes Jimin by complete surprise. He thought he had been careful about hiding his feelings for you, even developing feelings for someone else to keep them at bay.
Was there any chance you had felt the same way?
“No I don’t, and no she doesn’t. I’m with Jiwoo.”
“Exactly. You’re with Jiwoo, but you don’t love her. You love Y/N.” Namjoon is getting more impatient with Jimin the longer he dodges it.
“Of course I don’t,” is all Jimin can get out, too caught up in everything happening at once. Did he really love you? Were his feelings for Jiwoo not real? Did you love him back? Why hadn’t you said or done anything to clue him in on how you felt? He thought he’d been kind of obvious before.
“Then say it, say ‘I love Jiwoo, I don’t love Y/N.’” Joon knows exactly how this will play out, but Jimin needs to hear it from himself.
“Fine,” Jimin huffs, “I love Y/N, I don’t love Jiwoo-“ he wants to cover his mouth, but Hobi is already jumping around yelling ‘We knew it!,’ and Joon’s just smirking matter-of-factly.
“And that is why you are an idiot.” Jimin knows what he has to do now, the realization that his heart belongs to someone else weighing heavily.
Even the spark of hope that you might love him back can’t shield him from the hurt he’s about to cause.
—
There were a lot of tears, but Jiwoo only said she had a feeling this was going to happen. Apparently Jimin was really bad at hiding his feelings for you, so it was only a matter of time before things had to come to an end.
In the end, Jiwoo even wished him luck, knowing how much you both meant to each other. She couldn’t be too mad at true love after all.
Jimin was a freaking wreck on the other hand. He wasn’t good at breaking people’s hearts, and it took a toll on him.
He no longer had a girlfriend to make him happy and he didn’t know where you and him stood.
Since the break-up, he’d noticed how much time you were spending with Jungkook and the others. He didn’t like feeling jealous of his friends, but he couldn’t help it.
He was too much of a coward to confront you and tell you how he feels, though.
After letting himself be miserable over the break-up for a few days, he comes up with the best way he knows how to talk to you.
Grabbing the pad of paper, abandoned months ago, he writes up a quick note to leave on your door. He walks out, and just as he is about to put the paper up, your door swings open.
Your alone for the first time in a while, the boys coming up with excuses to let you and Jimin have your own time.
You had planned on going on a walk to get some fresh air when you come face to face with Jimin at your door.
He looks like a mess, hair disheveled, face stained with tears, and in the same crinkled sweats he’d lived in all week.
You couldn’t help the pang of sadness twist through your heart. He looked broken.
“Hey,” was all you manage to get out, in fear you’d crack and make a fool out of yourself.
“Hey.” Jimin’s voice is rough and dry after crying for so long. He hated how pathetic he looked and sounded in front of you.
How could you possibly love someone like him?
“Are you okay? Where’s Jiwoo?” You hated yourself for the nasty taste you got in your mouth from saying her name, it wasn’t her fault you waited too long.
“We actually broke up.” He doesn’t cry this time, he just searches your face for a reaction.
While you are sad your friend is hurting, you can’t help the hope blossoming in your chest.
“I’m sorry, you want to talk?” He just nods and rushes forward into your arms. You both missed the feeling of holding each other close, snuggling into one another and letting yourselves be vulnerable.
You let out a relieved gasp when he clutches tight to you, as if he was afraid you’d dissipate into the air.
“I should’ve just told you,” he whispers into your shoulder.
“Tell me what?” You pull your face back from his chest to look at him confused. He just lifts his hand, still clutching the note tightly, and shows it to you.
‘I love you.’
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes, I know it’s up later than the others, me being late to upload is just going to be a theme for the rest of the week. Anyways, cue the softest, cutest Jimin fanfic have ever written. Not to sound like a broken record, but, I really freaking love this one. Hope all you Chim gals eat your heart out, I hope I did your boy justice. 2 more to go. Stay Spooky!💜
-Moonie🌙
Half-Bloods
P.J.&The Olympians X BTS AU!
Cabin 10
Kim Seokjin ~ Son of Aphrodite
Only son of Aphrodite
Inhabits Cabin 10 with his 12 sisters
True embodiment of beauty, charm, and elegance
Devilishly handsome and he knows it
Not afraid to flaunt it and use his charm to his advantage
Enjoys a casual indulgence in gossip with his sisters
But say a word about his friends and he’ll nip it before it spreads
Scarily good at manipulation; not afraid to drop a bully down a peg or two
Knows everyone’s dirty little secrets; will use them against you if necessary
Constantly trying to set his friends up, despite protest
Mean flirt; not afraid of PDA; the man loves love
Incredible hype man; great at building other’s self esteem
The man to go to for a confidence boost; will list off tons of great things about you
Insult him? Revenge will be big, bold, and sweet
Not afraid to get his pretty little hands dirty
Release Date: TBD
-Moodboards mine, pics not
ᾰ̓γᾰ́πη
Pairing(s): Cursed!Seokjin x Reader
Genre(s): Fantasy Au, Fluff, Soulmate Au
Summary: “There’s a story whispered around here. One surrounding the beautifully carved statue of a man at the center of the town. Legend says that when the hand of his true love graces his palm, he shall wake from his cursed marbled slumber. It’s always been a silly old wives tale, until you give in to a friend’s dare.” (prompt idea from writing-prompt-s)
Warning(s): mild language
Word Count: 1.8K
Part I, Part 2, Part 3, ...
taglist: @best-space-boy @maryelixabeth @mochimaw @yeontanismypresident @hannahantonette17 @ign-is @fanfuckingfic @koala-wonderland @suchgayaesthetic @dulcaet
~ if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, feel free to send me an ask! thank you💜
The statue was no doubt beautiful. At times, it looked as if it truly was just an incredibly pale living man standing still, transfixed by something the naked eye could not see. Stories, old wives tales, the likes, manifested around it, creeping their way into the homes of every person ‘lucky’ enough to dwell within the town. They graced the tongues of parents at each late night bedtime story to their children, snuck into the early morning gossip of elderly women topping off tea cups, and laid dreamily in the back of every young girl’s mind, each one hoping to be the key to end the curse.
Growing up in this small town, it was hard to ignore the incessant buzz surrounding the terrifyingly detailed slab of marble. However, the challenge intrigued you, spurring you on at a young age to scorn those of ‘childish’-enough mind to ever believe in such nonsense as the ‘Story of the Statue.’ How ridiculous could one be to believe that the statue was once a man, and that the only way to return him to his ‘true form’ was the hand of his ‘one true love?’
If one should believe in such a thing as a living hunk of rock, it would make just as much sense to one day find half the townspeople deep in conversation with their hairbrushes.
Insane is a good way to describe it.
Completely and utterly bonkers another.
Much to your dismay, however, the entire town seemed to believe the exact opposite. Placing your hand upon the statue’s at midday became a reveled ritual for the townspeople. Men and women alike took their chance to entertain the mystery; to indulge in their deepest fantasy of being a part of the magic.
It was this 180 of belief from yours that ended in your own scrutiny. Instead of the ‘magical statue’ being the center of ridicule, it most often times was you. You couldn’t count on your fingers and toes combined the number of times you’d heard your name amongst the petty laughter of your neighbors, or caught the wicked smirks of the other girls your age as they hushed their voices as to be ‘undetected.’
It was painfully obvious that your reluctance to accept what has always been a town tradition made you an outcast amongst them all. The only friend you’d had to stick around being the quiet girl in the house neighboring yours.
In all honesty, she was quite drab at times, most of her vocabulary consisting of the words ‘soulmate,’ ‘statue,’ and ‘magic.’ Yes, she was just as deep into the mess of it all as everyone else, it seemed. As much as it pained you to sit through her lengthy airs on how romantic the whole situation was, that she’d do anything to be the soulmate the man was waiting for, she was the only one that had stuck around to entertain your rants.
Maybe her head was so far in the clouds your negative words never truly reached past the tips of her ears, but you were nonetheless grateful to have someone to at least pretend to listen, and she never made you feel any less-than for having differing opinions. Though, it didn’t stop her from picking fun every now and then, claiming that there must be a small part of you that was even slightly curious.
Her efforts to bring forth the inner-believer in you is what led to the present moment you find yourself in.
The face of utter disgust mixed with slight terror must have looked quite an odd combination for someone about to do the most mundane of things one could do in this particular town. It was as normal as walking your dog, or fetching the mail, yet this was a spectacle most could agree on as being anything but.
The nervousness could not be helped, no matter how desperately you tried to remind yourself that this was nonsense.
An intense burning sensation was the only thing your tingling form could truly comprehend, the eyes of nosy day-goers relishing in the sight of the known town hypocrite about to suddenly go against her beliefs. If anything, you seemed to attract an entire crowd, as if you were the main act in a thrilling road show that would come and go so quickly, the people rushed to witness it before it was gone.
A shooting star, a comet across the night sky, or an eclipse perhaps.
‘Get ahold of yourself,’ you thought, wiping your increasingly sweaty palms across the denim of your jeans.
‘It’s just a silly story, all you have to do is touch it,’ your mind reminded you. The more stares you garnered, the whispers becoming a loud buzz in your ears fighting above the rush of blood pounding through, the more your confidence seemed to crumble.
A tiny speck of a part of you wormed its way up through the depths of your being to call out to the reasonable part of your brain ‘what if it’s true?’
In the unbelievable off-chance that you were wrong, could you deal with the backlash of standing so firmly against it?
As you felt the warm push from the instigator of this whole affair, her face adorned with a slightly amused smirk, you realized that even if this whole story is true, there was no way in the universe that you would ever be the soulmate the story talks about.
Your experience with men is virtually nonexistent. The last time you’d indulged in the whirlwind of possible ‘romance’ had been when your middle school crush had kissed you quickly on the lips after school on a dare, promptly gagging afterwards and swearing to the high heavens that ‘girls are gross.’
Maybe you were traumatized from the whole experience, never mind the fact that the men of your town just weren’t vying for the attention of the town laughingstock, but romantic relationships just weren’t a part of your story.
It didn’t really matter much to you anyways, considering all the eligible men are, have been, and always will be, meager farm boys living off what their ancestors have laid down for them. Not that there was anything innately wrong with that way of life, it just wasn’t what you wanted for yourself and your future.
You have big plans, ones that include getting as far away from this place as possible, and no man was going to get in the way of that.
You’d rather die a painful, lengthy death than be a little hometown wife the rest of your life, reduced to nothing more than mindless cleaning, cooking, and birthing children. To be the ‘property’ of some man that could never understand your true potential; your true worth.
So, despite the twinge of fear lacing the edges of your mind, creating a rigidness in your limbs as you crossed the dirt path to the statue, you rose to the occasion, in a sense.
Maybe this would lay to rest the constant chatter of snobby folk, let them believe that, even for a moment, they’d found a way to manipulate you into their way of thinking. Maybe they’d finally stop whispering petty words when you passed, even begin to accept you into their society, not that you were desperate for that.
Or perhaps, it would give you a little more piece of mind, at least. Quell an unadmitted thirst to understand the hype so you could be completely unattached from this silly thing and hopefully move on with your life.
Those things would not change over the few seconds it would take to finish the deed, but as your mind raced through the possible aftermaths of what you were about to do, a change of sorts had definitely begun.
It was like all of time and space slowed around you. The closer the statue came into your field of vision, it was like entering a tunnel, or vortex, that sucked you in further and blurred reality around you.
And then everything stopped.
There, mere centimeters from you, lie the statue. It’s intricate detail and craftsmanship a new level of divine when admired closely. This was the closest you’d ever been to it and it stole the breath right from your lungs.
It was a strange feeling, mixed with the stares, the heat of the summer day, the nervousness in your belly, and the charge floating through the air. An unnerving mix that, shockingly, calmed the thoughts waging war within you. Like everything was numb, quiet, peaceful almost.
“Just do it already!” A shrill voice called out, followed by the sound of agreement flowing through the crowd. It snapped you from your state, reminding you of the task at hand.
With a little less reluctance than you’d expected, your hand reached out in the direction of the statue’s. Fingers shakily outstretching, all at once, your palm slid into the cool marble one.
It was smooth, yet you could feel every ridge and line like that of a human hand. The cool feeling of the marble against your clammy flesh was surprising considering the temperature the day had suffered through.
You hadn’t even realized your eyes were closed, breath held, until you opened your eyes upon the exhale, coming face-to-face with...
A statue.
You couldn’t help the anxious giggle that slipped from your lips like a mad woman.
You were right, well, at least that was one possibility. You’d touched the damn thing and nothing happened, just like you’d expected.
So why, among the rush of relief, was there an aftertaste of disappointment on your tongue?
The crowd, mildly satisfied and admittedly bored, had begun to disperse as you stood there, hand still placed in the statue’s.
Even though you’d bit the bullet, gotten it over with, you weren’t sure what to do now that it was done. For some reason, you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away, tell your friend ‘I told you so,’ and get on with your life, finally free of the unknown.
That same familiar warmth that pushed you here found its way back to your shoulder.
“Alright, you’ve proven your point...for now. Let’s go.”
Without turning your head to acknowledge her, you looked up into the face of the hunk of rock. For a fleeting moment, you felt as if you were staring into the eyes of another human being.
Without a word, you slowly turned to retreat back to your home, emotions a frenzy you couldn’t quite understand, let alone share with another soul.
As you began to take that first step away from the thing, your hand slipping carefully out of its grasp, you felt the smallest bit of movement behind you.
Before you could turn around on your own, something warm wrapped around your wrist, spinning you back to face the creation that plagued your mind.
Only, you weren’t met the the stark white of the marble, but the ivory tone of skin. Stiffly sculpted hair now flowing freely, dark, with the wind. Empty, pale eyes now filled with a deep rich brown, struck wide as emotion after emotion swirled within them.
Shouts and gasps echoed throughout the square, eyes of every villager as wide as their gaped mouths, returning to their prior posts, the show ending with a twist no one could have predicted.
Mind and body going into an immediate state of shock, there was no time to process anything at all before the weight of the now-man collapsed down from his pedestal onto you.
So the stories held some truth after all...
To Be Continued...
ᾰ̓γᾰ́πη - Pt. II
Pairing(s): Cursed!Seokjin x Reader
Genre(s): Fantasy Au, Fluff, Soulmate Au
Summary: “There’s a story whispered around here. One surrounding the beautifully carved statue of a man at the center of the town. Legend says that when the hand of his true love graces his palm, he shall wake from his cursed marbled slumber. It’s always been a silly old wives tale, until you give in to a friend’s dare.” (prompt idea from writing-prompt-s)
Warning(s): mild language
Word Count: 2.8k
Part I, Part 2, Part 3, ...
taglist: @best-space-boy @maryelixabeth @mochimaw @yeontanismypresident @hannahantonette17 @ign-is @fanfuckingfic @koala-wonderland @suchgayaesthetic @dulcaet
~ if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, feel free to send me an ask! thank you💜
For the record, you’d never once been so thoroughly stupefied by anything the entirety of your existence. Not that much has ever happened before this...debacle, but still.
Lying on the ground, however, draped with a recently statue-turned-man as the faces of every person who’d openly mocked your beliefs sit painted with the same concoction of horrified wonder, it was safe to say, this was definitely a first.
It was like your mind was awake while your body lay paralyzed. Thought after thought, albeit incoherent, made rounds throughout your consciousness. Limbs splayed across the dirt, useless, like those of a rag doll.
Perhaps part of the initial stun could be blamed by the impact with which the body crashed into yours, as well as the force of hitting the ground.
Maybe, in your likely now-concussed state, you were not actually under a man who a mere moment ago was marble. It’s believable that this was all just some brain-trauma induced hallucination. You probably just tripped on your way to the statue and hit your head. Really, really hard.
That scenario could have very much been the one you decided to go with, that is, until the man started to lift himself up, just enough to look down at you.
Even if you didn’t want to lock eyes with the, admittedly, incredibly handsome man you found yourself in such a precarious situation with, it wasn’t like you had any other choice.
Space only big enough for a single breathe lay between you.
His eyes, a lovely dark, warm brown shade that gave you such an odd sense of security, studied your own.
This close, every detail of his face was on HD display for you, from the length of his lashes, the slope of his nose, to the curve and plushness of his lips. Horrifyingly enough for you, that meant every one of your flaws must be painfully on display for him as well. Look at you now, suddenly worried about how you looked to a once-inanimate object.
It was an oddly intimate moment, one that you weren’t quite sure you wanted to end before it had begun, or to continue forever, until the sun set and the stars shone and everything in-between. The way your head swam, thoughts torn between two opposing sides, a regular Capulet-Montague affair within, it was like losing sense of yourself.
There was no way this was really happening; that this man has come to life at your hand. However, you couldn’t deny the tangible evidence that is the vessel hovering over you now. Oh yeah, there’s a strange man on top of you...and everyone is watching.
Like a cadaver reanimated by a bolt of lightning, you shot away from the man, pushing yourself back on your butt and scooching like a child until you were satisfied with the distance between. Skin painfully alight with the burn of embarrassment, you didn’t dare look back into the eyes of your ‘soulmate’ just yet.
‘Soulmate,’ it’s like that very word incited an allergic reaction in which your body suddenly had the urge to convulse until whatever contents remained in your stomach were one with the earth.
Trying merely to catch your breathe, you almost didn’t register the warmth of a hand pressing firmly to your back.
“I, um, think we should take this somewhere more...private, perhaps?”
That voice, the slightly monotone, yet strangely comforting voice of the girl you both tolerated and treasured. The only one that treated you as an equal; an actual human being.
“Mira...” It sounded choked, weak, like saying her name was a laboring task you weren’t sure you could handle. Turning back to look at her, you could tell how horrified you must have looked based on her own expression.
If anyone knew what to do in this insane situation, it’d be her.
Rising to her feet, Mira took in the way your body curled in on itself, to shield you from the alarming situation of which you had no control over and no clue how to precede. It stung at a piece of her that had been buried deep down inside for a long time.
Strange, was all she could pen it as, but you are her companion here, and it was her duty to aid you in this, especially considering the circumstances.
———
The walk home was quiet. One on the outside might almost call it peaceful, tranquil, but it was none of the above.
After suggesting to take this to her home, Mira helped you and the stranger to your feet and broke up the little side-show that had gathered. The townspeople were a mixture of curious, horrified, and smug; seeing the girl they taunted get stuck in this situation was irony at its finest.
While there were plenty of broken hearts staggering their way back to their homes with heavy souls, no one could deny that this was fate, and whether they agreed with the outcome or not, it was not their place to question.
Many, however, did get a good laugh in when you had paced frantically around the circle created around you, practically begging people to take the man instead. It was pathetic, sad, pitiful, and it left all with a disturbing sense of pride.
‘Serves her right,’ they all thought, only speaking it aloud once they were sheltered within their own walls.
They weren’t wrong though, you did look and feel wholly pathetic. On the verge of tears, begging people you loathed to help you, and right in front of the poor, confused man who was at no more fault than you. It wasn’t your best moment.
Thus, the journey to Mira’s was awkward if anything. You strode a few paces ahead, mind foggy and emotions scattered like confetti. Mira made a comfortable wall between you and the man, who brought up the rear, taking in his surroundings with curiosity and a weird sense of familiarity.
Nobody dared say anything, not that there was much to talk about at the moment. Tensions were running high, and a calm, quiet, middle ground was needed before any successful conversations were to be had.
You couldn’t help the slight tears pricking at your lash line, threatening to spill over any second. It made you feel dumb, crying over something as if you were a child who didn’t get their way.
But the thought of spending the rest of your life otherworldly attached to a person you’ve never met before was terrifying. It has always been you on your own. You have enough struggles as it is. Oh, how mother will get a kick out of this.
Your mind wondered if she would even understand what was going on. She’d been in the home on the east side for a few years now, after the dementia got to be too much for you to deal with alone. She’s doing better there anyways, and it wasn’t like you weren’t unaccustomed to going it solo anyways.
Your head slowly swiveled back to catch a quick glimpse of the man behind you. He was swinging his head side to side, back and forth, taking in everything like a puppy. His clothes, now that you were looking, were very outdated, things you’d never seen before except in history books or century dramas on Netflix. He didn’t look real. Another irony, you guess.
Before you could turn back and focus on the road ahead of you, his eyes shot down to catch yours. He didn’t seem scared, upset, or even worried. In fact, he looked almost sympathetic. It probably had to do with the terrified expression you had a hard time fighting every time he caught your gaze. The heat crept up your neck quickly and you shot your head forward to get away from his stare.
Before you knew it, you were standing shoulder to shoulder with the man as Mira unlocked and swung her front door open. The porch creaked under your weight as you shifted to gain some space, the nervousness making you antsy and unable to stand still. He didn’t seem to notice you move away from him, but you weren’t about to look at him and check.
Once inside, you placed yourself in one of the large wicker dining chairs you occupied often during long debates with Mira over the years. Her house was quaint and quite charming. A decent size, especially for her living alone, and giving off a rustic, bohemian air that made it feel homey to even the most distant of strangers.
Speaking of strangers, it was an odd sight to say the least, watching the tall man cross the room stiffly, dropping down onto the velvet couch with a sigh. The humanness he possessed after being rock only a few hours ago was unsettling. You don’t know what you expected him to act like, but then again, any expectations were out the window and 100 miles downwind by now.
Considering how off-put you are by the whole thing, it both amazed and scared you how easy it was for your gaze to linger over him. What it was that pulled you to him, you couldn’t put your finger on- no, you didn’t want to put your finger on in fear of the implications. The longer you were in his presence, though, the more curious you became. And we all know how curiosity plays out, just ask the cat.
Again, as if you both really were connected in some fantastical way, his eyes instantly found yours. This time, however, the nervous heat that usually accompanied it vanished. Instead, locking eyes almost brought an innate sense of peace within you; comfort.
“So, would either of you like some tea?” Mira’s way of easing the awkward air quickly broke the two of you from...whatever that was, and it immediately threw you back on edge. Grabbing the edge of the chair till your knuckles paled, your voice took on a defensive tone.
“ I’d like to know what the hell is going on.” Laced with a sharp venom you weren’t even aware you were capable of, the statement immediately caught all attentions, air increasing in its thickness instead of dissipating like Mira had hoped.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at the man, so instead you focused all of your negative energy, unfairly, on Mira. Her face twisted into an uncomfortable grimace as she thought of the best way to talk you down from your growing agitation, but before she could speak, a light chuckle wafted through the tiny room.
That snapped both of your heads towards Mr. post-statue.
Even with both of your uncomfortable gazes, he didn’t seem affected. It wasn’t like he couldn’t read the room, or understand the gravity of the situation. It was more like he had this innate sense of optimism; that everything was going to work out and he just didn’t see the point in getting so serious.
“I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on.” You wouldn’t say you were surprised by the soft, honey-tone of his voice, or that you were entranced by it, but if you were to deny, you’d be utterly lying to yourself.
Maybe there was more to this soulmate thing than just waking him up and living ‘happily ever after’. Was it possible there were physical and psychological changes that came along with it? It doesn’t seem too far fetched considering the events that have taken place today. At this point, anything could happen and you wouldn’t be any more surprised. Maybe it’s the shock talking.
“What?” Once you said it, you want to take it back. God, could you sound any dumber? The first thing you say directly to him, and it’s an idiotic reiteration that makes you sound like you can’t infer from context clues and common-freaking-sense what he means.
A quick urge to bury yourself somewhere far away from here shoots through your being, but it’s not a look of disdain that you are met with, but a sweet, soft, smile. It’s not that he seems to pity you in any way, but that somehow knows exactly what you’re feeling without you having to say it. Although, now that you’ve realized it, that small sense of fright wiggles in the back of your mind. A stranger should not be able to read you as easily as he is.
“If I’m awake, it means the spell is broken.”
You stare at him as his face lights up, as if remembering something wonderful; a long lost memory just now recalled.
Suddenly, he bolts up, coming straight for you. Despite your heart protesting, your body starts, pushing yourself as far against the chair and curling tight to protect yourself. As you flinch, your eyes shut and you suck a quick breath in. Like being charged by a fearsome beast, you react in such a way that you don’t even have to open your eyes to know the affect.
The footsteps stop instantly, and when you do open your eyes, you see the man frozen in place, face paled and arms limp at his sides. He was only a few feet away, but even when he shortened the distance between you, he suddenly felt further away now than before.
The guilt of reacting in such a way was a feeling you weren’t accustomed to, and you couldn’t lie that you felt worse after seeing the pained expression on his face.
He slowly backed his way back to the couch, lowering down onto it while avoiding your gaze. Strange how quickly it went from you avoiding his, to him avoiding yours.
“I’m sorry...I know...I know how scary this must be, and I shouldn’t have gotten so excited,” he started, voice low and cautious, like he was afraid to scare you again. Seeing the hurt in his eyes and hearing the strain in his voice affected you more than it should.
Carefully, your body returned to its original position, unfurling to show him that you weren’t afraid of him. You don’t know why it was suddenly so important for you to assure him but it was a natural reaction you didn’t think twice about.
Brown eyes once again catching your own, you tried your best to give him an apathetic smile, something to rid his beautiful features of that sorrow you inadvertently caused. When his eyes shone with a newly-gained light as the corner of his mouth upturned the slightest bit to return your gesture, you knew that no matter the insanity of this situation, you’d probably do just about anything to keep that smile on his face.
“I just never thought this would happen.” A slight pink hue rises to the apples of his cheeks and it takes a strong part of you to hold yourself together and not swoon at how adorable he looked.
“That what would happen?” Mira speaks up and reminds you that you are, in fact, not alone and you recompose yourself.
The man clears his throat and despite the increasing blush on his cheeks, he manages to look from Mira back to you, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck.
“That my soulmate would find me.” This time it’s you whose blushing, the heat creeping up and spreading to every part of your body. The implications of being a soulmate, let alone to someone you don’t know, made the uneasiness resurface. Even though you felt a growing warmth for this random man, you weren’t about to throw your inhibitions out the window all for the sake of being ‘soulmates.’
As cliché-fairy-tale-garbage as this whole thing seems, you weren’t some dim-witted damsel who’d fall for a man she just met.
“Maybe you should start with introductions, stave off the soulmate thing for a moment.” Mira sends you an understanding smile, knowing that you’d lack the frame of mind to conduct this conversation without her assistance.
A breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding escapes your lips in a relieved sigh. Turning back to the man, you muster up enough courage to rise from your seat, cross the wooden floor, and stop before him. Shaking slightly, your right hand reaches out to rest midair in front of him, fingers open and waiting.
“I’m Y/N.”
He looks at your fingers, then up at you, then fingers again. Slowly, his hand approaches yours, gliding softly against the pads of your fingertips before lightly grasping your hand in his. Before you can signal your arm to start a shaking motion, he brings your hand towards him and delicately places a soft kiss to the skin of your knuckles. You can feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin, and suddenly it feels like the Sahara desert in the sweltering summer months.
“My name is Seokjin. It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”
To Be Continued...
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A.N.,
This part is more-so an establishing piece. I know not much goes on plot-wise, but I needed to develop the dynamic before any of the juicy bits can happen. I hope you all understand and like this newest edition to the story. I originally planned this to be a 3 part series, but there will definitely be more than 3 parts, oops. I hope you all stick around for the ride, and thank you for all the love and support!💜
-Moonie🌙