Bts Short Story - Tumblr Posts

7 Days Of Halloween-BTS

7 short stories about 7 boys and the mysteries surrounding themselves and Y/N. Come delve into the supernatural and you might just fall in love along the way. Are you ready?

Post Schedule (EST):

Moodboards and Teasers: Monday Oct. 7th - find it here

Music To My Ears(KSJ): POSTED- read it here

Follow The Light(MYG): POSTED- read it here

The Heart Grows Fonder(KNJ): POSTED- read it here

Love Heals All(JHS): POSTED- read it here

Sweet Serendipity(PJM): POSTED- read it here

My Last Hope(KTH): POSTED- read it here

I Feel You(JJK): POSTED- read it here

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A/N,

First set of short stories, kinda a series, but none are related. You know I had to make it Halloween-oriented, of course. No specific times set for release, just because I have a bad habit of procrastinating. Hope everyone’s excited for spooky season, I know I am.

- Moonie🌙

7 Days of Halloween: Day One Update

Kicking off 7 Days of Halloween with the eldest! Jin’s story will be posted today @ 7 p.m. EST, so get ready!

-Moonie🌙

Gif not mine

Music To My Ears (Jin x Siren!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, College Au, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language (just a bit), whole lotta angst, brief mentions of suicide, story also goes back and forth from Jin’s to Y/N’s POV, Fluuuufffff

Word Count: 9K, lets goooo

“What about Jiwoo?”

“No way.”

“There’s that girl from my psych class, Dae?” Jin scoffed and shook his head furiously.

“Anyone that shares a class with you Joon is a no-go. I want simple and easy, not a therapy session on why I’m ‘afraid’ of commitment.”

Joon shakes his head with a light chuckle, “Maybe you should be asking yourself that question.”

Jin laughs at his friend like he’s the funniest thing in the world, when Joon knows very well he’s not.

“Easy, I’m not afraid, I just don’t need a girlfriend right now. Monogamy is boring.”

Yoongi pulls his headphones off completely this time and turns to the two idiots taking up all the space on his bed, “Then why even bother with girls at all. Try flying solo for a while.”

That earns him a long, exaggerated eye roll.

“Because Yoongles, a man has needs.” If there was one quality Jin didn’t have, it was subtlety.

Being the most popular, handsome, and eligible guy on campus (self-coined, in case you couldn’t tell) was both a blessing and a curse. The pressure to pursue and please was insurmountable, and while Jin enjoyed a good challenge, he just wanted to relax and have some harmless fun while he could.

College wouldn’t last forever, and the endless pool of easy, available, no-strings-attached hook-ups died along with it, so Jin made it his mission to make the best of his last year here.

Only rule: girls in his dorm? OFF LIMITS. He made that mistake first year, and he still gets the stink eye from Yeri every time he goes to wash his clothes, and don’t even get him started on the various times the lights just “happened” to go out while he was taking a shower.

Everyone else is fair game and no repeats allowed. Some would call him a player, but he prefers opportunistic. I mean, campus is just serving him all of these gorgeous women on a silver platter, so what’s he supposed to do?

A painful groan breaks Jin from his thoughts, his attention flicking to the dark haired man now leaning so far back in his chair, it might just snap in half.

“Look, all I’m saying is that nothing good can come from your little ‘quest,’ ok?”

A snort from the eldest causes Yoongi to spin around and chuck his notebook at him, exasperation clear on his face.

“Except everything about it. No feelings, no mess, just fun.”

“Just because you don’t acknowledge the mess, doesn’t mean it’s not still there,” Yoongi counters, earning silence from his friends.

Jin ponders for a moment. Sure, sometimes he picked the wrong target and things got a little weird, but it couldn’t be that bad, right? It’s not like they didn’t know what they were getting into with him, he’s a pretty open book, ask anyone.

Then again, it’s not like he stuck around long enough to really gauge the outcomes, and to be honest, he doesn’t think he will be for a while. It may seem selfish, but come on, it’s not like any of these girls aren’t getting anything out of it, and he sees how some of them walk around all high and mighty afterwards. If anything, they’re using him just as much as he’s using them. Why not play the game if it’s a win-win?

The conversation on that dies out as quickly as it came, and after laughing about Joon’s mishap with his zipper in Physics for a solid 30 minutes, Yoongi gets fed up and kicks them out so he can finally study.

The walk back to his room is uneventful. His dorm is rather quiet at night, all the partying and adult shenanigans happens in Seo Hall or down the street at Phi Beta Nu. Jin loved a good kegger as much as the next guy, but the betas are just too stuck up their own asses you have to be fully inebriated to have any fun.

As he rounds the hall, he sees a slight steam sweep through the doorway to the communal bathrooms. If he were up to it, he totally would’ve messed with whoever was in their so late at night, but after the conversation with Yoongi and Joon, he couldn’t bother.

Usually his friends would be excited or at least fake being into his dumb conquests, but he could tell they were starting to worry about him. Jin wasn’t always like this, looking for easy and replaceable love, but after his girlfriend of almost 2 years broke up with him before they both started junior year, he just didn’t see the point in the long-term when it would all just fall apart in the end.

Jin was tired of putting in so much time and effort only to get slapped in the face and his heart ripped in two. No, the easiest way to protect your heart from breaking was to pretend you didn’t really have one, or at least use a fake while the real one is hidden away.

‘Love’ everyone but truly love no one.

Suddenly, he’s stopped just beyond the bathroom doorway, a sweet and soft voice dripping from the warm and damp air like fresh honey for only him to savor. It wasn’t uncommon for people to belt it out when they were alone in the shower, but this was something so uniquely and incredibly different, it pulled him in without any resistance.

Jin was not a pervert by any means, he’s always respectful and gentlemanly when it counted, and he knows it certainly doesn’t look that way as he carefully tiptoes through the doorway to find the source of the melody turning his insides to jelly and making his heart beat a little faster than normal.

Jin knew, he KNEW, this was a bad idea, but something inside him just told him to keep going. He could pinpoint the exact stall it was coming from, could almost see her outline through the curtain, when the singing stopped.

So lost in his haze, Jin didn’t even realize he knocked over an empty caddy by one of the stalls, causing a light bang, and indicating to the mystery girl that she was no longer alone.

Before he could process what was happening, Jin was out of the bathroom as fast as lightning, the sound of her curtain ripping open spurring his feet to move faster. He was out of there and hiding behind the corner like a crazy person, praying to God he wasn’t found out.

Jin had never ever done something like this before, and he was hoping the first time he messed up would not be the time he got caught.

The water now off, he could hear her footsteps as she slowly peeked out from the doorway, searching for the suspect. Jin’s heart beat so loud he was scared she’d find him by that alone.

It was quiet for a moment, and Jin let himself sneak a peek past the edge of the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of this mystery girl. To his surprise, all he got was a flash of hair, the red color tinting her cheeks, and the fluffy pink of her robe as she quickly made her way down the hall towards her room.

He didn’t want to keep watching, anxious she’d feel his eyes and turn back and see him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Her stature, the curve of her body, the sway of her hair against her shoulders and back, it was so mesmerizing, and he could not for the life of him get her voice out of his head.

After she was locked away in her room, Jin began his retreat to his, only looking back once in the direction of her door.

‘No dorm mates, remember that,’ he repeated in his mind, over and over and over again. But no matter how hard he tried to hear that like a mantra in his mind, her voice was louder than any thought he could provide.

-

You were still a bit paranoid after last night. You lived in a dorm for heavens sake, and a coed one at that, of course other people would be in the bathroom. Usually, you waited late enough for everyone to be either gone partying, studying, or on the rare occasion, sleeping.

After all, you didn’t see anyone, it was probably just your brain making things up thanks to too many late nights binging horror flicks.

Still, you couldn’t help feeling wary. You rarely break your ‘no voice’ rule, but you just couldn’t help yourself sometimes. You missed letting the notes and melodies fall from your lips, no matter how dangerous it could be.

Late night showers with the water masking the sound became the only way you were able to take a break from playing mute. You didn’t like lying to people, but you just couldn’t risk it.

Not after what happened last time.

With your backpack strapped safely to your back and arms cradling your notebook, you cautiously made your way to class. You made it a habit of trying to avoid eye contact with everyone all together. Sometimes even a look could draw them in, so pushing everyone away was best.

Of course, this was nearly impossible to do as a student, but you learned ways to keep it at bay. Hide yourself in as many layers as you could, don’t wear anything eye-catching, keep your head down, and never stay too long.

You even requested a room to yourself, in fear a roommate would stir up unnecessary trouble, and you wanted to get through college as incident-free as possible after first year.

Of course, all of these precautions didn’t stop the trouble all together. When you first came to school, people, especially guys, were all over you. They’d cast the shy card, the innocent card, and when you wouldn’t fall into their traps, they’d casted you out all together.

The shy girl everyone wanted became the prude people avoided.

Albeit it was a bit lonely at times, you remembered that you weren’t here to make friends, you were here to get an education. On you couldn’t get where you were from, and one you had fought fiercely to obtain.

You weren’t going to let that be ripped away from you by a little bout of loneliness.

You made it to class with a few minutes to spare, your notebooks and pencils taking their places sprawled across your desk as you awaited instruction.

Class went by slower than usual, and you couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching you. You weren’t a stranger to wandering eyes, but they usually lost interest rather quickly. This time, however, you could tell every time they’d wander back to you, and you knew better than to indulge and find the culprit.

Instead you ignored it, trying hard to focus on the lesson, and then suddenly, class is over and you realized you missed the assignment.

After waiting a few minutes for people to clear out, you made your way down to the professor, one you’d met plenty of times before, and began to sign.

Learning sign language was a skill that helped tremendously. Suddenly, you went from racing to write your thoughts out on paper, to being able to have sort-of easy flowing conversations when needed. Most were more than happy to accommodate you, bringing in an interpreter and some even knew a few basic signs to talk with you. For the the less forgiving ones, you still carried around your pad and pen.

You asked him if he would repeat the assignment due for next week, hands a bit shaky. You weren’t the best, but it was understandable. He happily obliged, and you took down the information on your planner.

After thanking him, you turn to head out, when a pair of eyes meet yours.

-

Jin couldn’t even escape this girl in his dreams. Suddenly, her voice echoed through every cavity of his brain, the image of her hair flowing as she walked down the hall distracting him from his daily tasks.

Now he was on the verge of being late for class and he couldn’t help but blame the girl a bit. He knew he was just being petty, but how could someone like her have evaded him for so long? How had he not noticed her before?

He was a charmer, a magnet for girls like her, so how had she slipped right through his fingers? Jin admittedly was more interested in the mystery right now than the girl herself, but he seemed that they are one in the same. After all, he couldn’t really be interested in someone he had never met before. And he didn’t even know why he was so taken in the first place.

Jin now made it his new mission to find out who this girl was, whether she wanted to be  found or not. He needed answers; why was she up so late? Why did her voice effect him so? Why had he never seen her before now?

When he finally stumbled into Psych, he never expected he’d find his suspect so soon. Yet, there she was, a few rows ahead of him, hair pushed behind her ears, supplies all laid out before her, and he didn’t mean to, but all he can do is stare.

How fate had lined this up so perfectly for him and what he did to deserve it, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that now that he could see her properly, in the daylight and not hiding behind a corner, the beating of his heart sped up so fast he was sure he might have a heart attack right there.

After intensely staring at her for a few seconds, he could sense the change in her demeanor, knew she could tell he was staring. He tried multiple times to pay attention to the lecture, but he just couldn’t seem to hold his focus on anything accept her.

He desperately did not want to make her feel uncomfortable, yet he could tell that’s exactly what he was doing. He could slap himself for it, now she’d never give him the time of day.

Jin spent so much time going back and forth with himself over what to do, he didn’t realize class had already come to a stop and people were filing out. As he snapped himself out of it, stuffing his things back into his bag, he saw that girl get out of her seat.

The bounce of her hair when she walked towards the professor made his stomach do flips, but he pushed the feeling aside to be reasonable. Was she pretty? Yes. Was he attracted to her? As much as you can be to a stranger, he guesses.

He watched as she rose her hands, moving them quickly albeit shakily, and the professor responded to her, giving her the notes for the assignment, which she quickly jotted down.

Now, that was interesting. Why was she using her hands to communicate when she could’ve just spoken to the professor? Jin was even more intrigued than he was before.

Just as he was about to leave them to it, she turned around, instantly locking eyes with him. Jin wasn’t sure what to do. Does he say hi? Pretend it never happened and flee? But before he could choose an option, you were already on your way towards him.

-

You weren’t planning on confronting him, but he was conveniently still there, standing, staring.

You’d never seen this boy before, but then again, you never made it your mission to remember names and faces. After all, they would never be permanent.

This time, however, something stirred inside you. A feeling like fate, maybe, wanted you to take initiative just this once.

You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly in him drew you forward, to believe that this was all okay and that you weren’t making a big mistake again.

Maybe it was the way his warm brown eyes seemed to grow when you caught his gaze.

Perhaps it was his lopsided smile as he internally decided what to do.

Good looks were something that obviously came naturally to him, but it wasn’t that.

No, you could feel something different emanating from him.  

A hidden warmth so purely good you couldn’t help but let it pull you in, no matter how scarily quick it was causing all your protective walls to crumble to the ground.

Stopping just in front of him, you tilt your head a bit to the side, questioning.

He just stares for a moment, realizes what he’s doing, and quickly plays it off cool, his hand coming to scratch the back of his neck.

“Hi, um, my name’s Jin. Nice to meet you.” His hand shoots forward to grasp yours, fingers sliding against one another’s and then falls back to his side.

You take a minute to think. He probably doesn’t know sign language. Maybe I should get my pad out.

You reach in your bag for your paper, when he clears his throat.

“You can talk, right?” He asks, but his tone is edging more towards statement, like he already knows the answer.

You freeze. Lying to him felt wrong, more wrong than it did with everyone else, which was incredibly strange due to him being a complete stranger.

You retract your hands, and look back up at him, shaking your head no.

His expression turns to confusion, which you quickly mirror. It’s when he notices your face that he scrambles to explain.

“It’s just...” he takes a deep sigh, “I heard you. The other night.” He stops, looking into your eyes for understanding. You don’t get the hint, so he continues.

“I was walking back to my room last night, and I heard someone singing in the shower. Their voice was so beautiful. So I waited around a bit, and I saw you leave.”

You can feel the flush rise up through your cheeks, staining every inch of your face in utter embarrassment and fear.

How could you have been so stupid?

Shaking your head no so vigorously it might fall off, you quickly rush past him. You needed to get out of there. Create some distance; a LOT of distance. No way were you going to make the same mistake again.

Expecting him to just drop it, you’re surprised when his footsteps echo behind you.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to make you upset... I just-“ but before he could finish, you whip around, throwing your arms up, signaling him to stop.

You rip your pad and pen from your bag, and scribble out your frustration.

His eyes drop from yours to the pad in front of him.

“Just leave me alone. Please.”

You turn to leave, but he steps in front of you.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Why can’t you just talk to me. I know you can.” He seemed almost upset with you. How could he be upset with you?!?

“None of your business. Goodbye.” You shove it in his face and once he’s flustered, you make your escape.

Making your way back to your dorm, fuming at the absolute audacity of this guy, you make a mental note to never trust yourself again when it comes to stupid feelings. I mean, how the hell you had felt any warmth in him was beyond you. How dare he act like he knows you. He doesn’t know a damn thing!

You were so caught up in mentally beating the shit out of this ‘Jin’ guy, you didn’t even notice him walk past you and go into his room just down the hallway.

-

“And then she just shoves her notebook in my face and walks off! What the hell?”

To say Jin is thoroughly aggravated would be an understatement.

He could deal with a girl just not being interested in him, whatever, but for a girl to make him feel stupid like that?

He wasn’t sure about a lot of things, but he was 100% sure that that girl was the one he heard singing in the bathroom the other night. He feels it in his bones.

“Well, you did basically accuse her of faking being mute or whatever.” Yoongi was only half painting attention to the conversation, once again mind clouded with all of the work he had to do. Jin could tell, but he was too frazzled to care.

Sure, he definitely could’ve handled the situation better, but everything about her made him nervous, and then she shuts him down, without so much as a second thought? She didn’t even know him for heavens sake, how could she treat him like he was just some douche?

“I didn’t mean to, I was trying to be nice, but she is just so frustrating. I didn’t demand she tell me her life story, I just know she can talk and I wanted to hear her voice again.” Yoongi ignored him, so Jin sighed as loud as he could and left the room.

As he was walking back to his room, he passed your door. He took a quick glance at the name sprawled across the little cut-out butterfly that the floor advisor made for all the tenants. Y/N.

Her negativity towards him should’ve deterred him, even stopped him all together. Oh, but that’s not how Jin works. Now he had even more of a reason to figure this Y/N out. He was going to get her to talk to him if it was the last thing he did.

In his room, he grabs his laptop and starts researching sign language. If she wants to play hard ball, I’ll learn the game.

Despite his love of simple and easy, Jin couldn’t resist this challenge, and he couldn’t help but feel like this was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.

Forget one night stands, he wanted to, scarily enough, put in the work for this one. Something in his heart was telling him you’d be worth the effort.

He’d find a way to get to you, no matter how long or hard it’d be.

Jin understands having secrets and your right to keep them, but what could be so bad about a voice?

-

After as peaceful of a night’s sleep as you could get in a dorm, you had almost completely forgotten about the encounter with Jin yesterday. Keyword: almost.

It could’ve just been completely forgotten all together if he hadn’t been standing outside your door as soon as you walked out for class, an annoying smirk plastered to his smug little face.

You were startled, which only seemed to make his smile grow, as if annoying you made his entire day. The dynamic you two had developed over less than a full day of knowing each other was nothing short of absolutely insane. How could two complete strangers suddenly be so ‘comfortable’ around each other?

Obviously Jin was more comfortable with you than vice versa, considering he went from listening to you in the shower, to confronting you in class, to now waiting for you outside your room. Either this guy is incredibly bold or incredibly stupid.

One glance might see a friend waiting outside your dorm to walk you to class. Another might see a stalker waiting for their prey. You knew Jin was just curious, it wasn’t something you hadn’t encountered before, so you entertained the thought that he just might lie somewhere in between those two extremes just to humor yourself.

He approached you, carefully, his demeanor shifting, softening, like he didn’t want to press you. Maybe he just has one of those faces that always looks annoying for some reason.

You prepared yourself to walk away, to shake your head, give him the finger, stomp on his foot, you don’t know, just something, anything to get him off your back.

He would probably say something incredibly ignorant without meaning too and you’d have to take it in one ear and out the other without taking it to heart. After all, you didn’t want to fight with him. You didn’t really want anything to do with him considering your history and his revelation about a few nights before.

But as you lifted your hand to back him off, he started moving his hands in a fashion you had become familiar with. You watched the motion of his hands, the shapes he creates, the orientation of his palms, and realizes he’s trying to sign to me.

This kid. This fucking kid, who you just met yesterday, one you had definitely gotten off on the wrong foot with, spent his night, which could’ve been used to party, study, whatever. He spent it on learning some sign language. He spent all night practicing signs so he could talk to you.

Not sure whether you should be flattered or frustrated that he now could technically talk to you in a way you couldn’t just blatantly ignore, you stood, mouth gaped as he continued to move his hands over and over again.

It was sloppy, obviously, but the idea was there. He never took his eyes from you, waiting for you to understand and respond.

“I’m sorry,” he signs, “can we start over?” The look on his face closely resembles regret. He was actually apologizing. A college guy apologizing for acting like a jerk? Well, this was a first.

You wanted to forgive him right away. Honestly, he was just being normal. It’s not his fault you had a secret. You knew you overreacted, but you honestly wanted to throw him for a loop first. See if he could keep up with you, if it would be worthwhile to indulge in conversing and learning about one another, even though it broke all of your rules.

This was the first real contact you’d had in a long time, and you kind of missed it now that you’d had a taste.

You desperately want to break into a stupid grin, but remain stoic, which sends a rigid chill through Jin. He’s nervous you won’t accept his apology. That you’d hate him forever and he’d never get to know you, the real you.

“Why should I?” It takes him a minute and you repeating it once more for him to finally understand what you’re saying. He’s not surprised, after all, you don’t know him, he doesn’t know you, there is no basis of trust established, and all you had was his bad impression from yesterday to go on.

He thinks, mulling over in his head not only a proper response, but how to sign it well enough you’ll understand.

“I don’t know,” he thinks again, “just a feeling we could be friends.” He chuckles a bit at his awful signing, which he can tell is as bad as he thinks just by the confused way your eyes move following his hands and face.

It was honest. No bullshit. No lines. He was telling the truth, a truth you knew and felt on your own. Something drew you to him, you could feel it from the moment you locked eyes with him. After what happened the last time you let yourself get too close to someone, you were eager to push this feeling away to avoid repeating old mistakes.

Something about this one, though, felt different. It’s like he wasn’t seeing the side of you that lured people in. He was seeing the side of you that just wanted to be normal. The you that could put up a cool, collected front but easily break it down with your stubborn, childish, annoying side.

The you that was usually so well hidden from the outside world. Jin brought out the real you, the human in you.

It was too much to ask of a stranger, yet here he was, putting in the work and then some, just for the minuscule chance you might accept him, let him into your world.

He wasn’t looking for much, he just wanted to know you. You seemed like this perfect, put together girl that could have the world wrapped around your finger if you wanted. Yet you blockaded yourself from the joys and wonders of life, and he wanted desperately to understand why. Not for selfish purposes, but because he could see that you were forcing yourself to stand alone.

After all, he is the complete opposite. He has the world wrapped his finger and he knew it, exploiting it and taking all it offered him. Compliments, opportunities, lovers, they were his for the taking and he happily indulged. He couldn’t see how you could have the same opportunity and blatantly ignore it.

He could tell you weren’t happy just by looking in your eyes. The way you avoided him and others, how you went straight from class to your unshared room. How long had you cut yourself off from the rest of the world?

Jin wanted to understand the why so he could figure out if there was a way to change your mind. To show you that life had so much to offer, so many wonderful things, that you’d want to open up, experience life in a way that would leave every day feeling better than the last.

The last thing he thought you needed was a ‘knight in shining armor.’ No, you didn’t need help, he could tell you were strong, but he did think you could use a sidekick of sorts along the way. A friend, someone who indulges sometimes too much in the joys of life. Who better to show you just how fun life can be? Now all he needed was for you to be willing to let him.

Again, it was a lot for him to ask of you, a stranger, but he figured it was worth a shot. Worst case scenario, you’d tell him to bug off and never talk to him again, but you didn’t exactly talk to him much as it is, so there was nothing really to lose.

You, on the other hand, had a lot to lose.

Your first year, you had ignored the warnings of your family against going to university. You’d been homeschooled all your life to protect you, they had said. Turns out, they were actually protecting others from you.

You’d been starved of non familial human interaction, so when this kind-hearted guy paid attention to you, it made you feel special. Of course, it wasn’t as simple as you thought.

Back then you’d known little about controlling your abilities. When you spoke, it naturally affected some people more than others. This guy had been so far under your spell, it quickly edged on dangerous.

You’d tried to break things off as carefully as possible, spare him the hurt as best you could, but he wouldn’t, no, couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

It got worse, and suddenly you found yourself sitting in a police station being questioned about his suicide and you vowed never again.

Never again would you hurt someone like that; would not only put someone else through that, but yourself as well.

Pushing people away kept them safe. You were dangerous.

And all of a sudden, this goofy, broad-shouldered idiot with a dopey smile comes crashing into your life and you can’t help but feel like you won’t be able to shake him even if you tried.

As long as you kept quiet, you figured, what was the harm in letting him hang around?

You let out an exasperated sigh, one that catches Jin’s attention as he eagerly awaits for you to sign something, anything.

“Fine. Forgiven.” Light glimmers in his eyes as he flashes you a big grin, happy with the verdict.

“Friends?” He adds, extending a hand for you to shake. You stare at his fingers, hesitant and nervous that a touch could even be a trigger. You slowly take his hand, and after finding no problem, shake.

“Do I have a choice?” You sign, and take his loud laugh and head shake as a big fat no, not that you were surprised.

He follows just behind you as you walk to class in silence, but he starts to move his hands again, and as you look over, you see, “Cool, can I copy your Psych homework?”

Instant regret.

-

Did you see that right? No way, maybe you missed something. You signal him to sign again.

“Are you Friday homework busy?” He doesn’t seem to catch on that what he said made no freaking sense whatsoever, so you sign ‘again.’

Jin rolls his eyes, repeating his hand motions for the third time, and you still can’t figure out what the hell he’s on about.

It’s been a few months since you’d started ‘hanging out,’ though 99% of the time it was Jin just following you around, watching you do homework or other mundane things, and asking you to let him copy your assignments when he couldn’t be bothered to do them himself.

It was something hard to get used to at first, but soon you found yourself falling into a rhythm with him. Suddenly he was a natural part of your every day, something you quickly looked forward too even though you you would never tell him that.

So after being around him for so long, you knew he could sign better than that. Usually he’d catch himself, laugh off the embarrassment, and let you help him get it right.

This, needless to say, was highly unusual.

Jin, on the other hand, found your confusion hilarious. He didn’t give it away that he thought as much, because he was doing it on purpose after all.

After spending a few months with you, he’d noticed how quickly you placed him into your routine. As much as he enjoyed that, he wanted to change it up. He learned a lot about you, from the way you twirl your pencil when your bored, to the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re embarrassed. Even your cute ugly laugh when he does something stupid.

He loved all those things, loved that you share them with him, but you were still hiding a part of yourself, and Jin was determined to find it and uncover it. He just wants you to be completely, wholly, and unapologetically you, because to him, nothing could be better.

To say he became quite infatuated with you with every new discovery would be an understatement. He felt like a lovesick puppy sometimes, and all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and tell you dumb jokes to make you smile.

Of course, you probably only thought of him as a friend, and Jin was totally fine with that. He was just happy that you’d accepted him at all, and he wasn’t about to ruin that over what was probably just a silly crush.

So, Jin had come up with this ‘clever’ plan to get you to actually talk to him. With everything he’s learned about you, he knew how impatient you could be, especially when frustrated.

If he signs so bad you can’t understand him, you’ll quickly get fed up and open your mouth, considering you’d caught yourself almost doing so numerous times before. While Jin was also very anxious about stirring up your wrath, he thought it would most likely be worth it in the long run if he could get you to speak.

And you were quickly falling into his trap.

How in the hell was he not seeing that his structure was making zero sense? You try to sign to him, tell him to knock it off, but he just looks at you confused. He knows these signs so why is he acting like he doesn’t understand you?

You could feel a few wandering eyes, knowing fully well that they were getting a laugh out of your charades session with Jin. You could feel the heat creep up your neck, and you wanted so badly to tell him to piss off, stop messing with you, to cuss him out.

You bit your tongue for as long as you could, but the dam finally collapsed, your fist flying into his shoulder.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Quite being an asshole!” You whisper shout at him, and the cheering erupts in Jin’s mind, confetti cannons bursting, a song of victory playing on loop.

He couldn’t help the smile that quickly took over his face, no matter how intense your death glare was. He wanted to lunge forward and hug you, for you to say something again.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was dying to hear his name drip from your lips, no matter the context.

“Sorry, what was that?” He prodded, softly punching your shoulder back.

Rolling your eyes, you tense at the realization you just spoke out loud. What the hell were you thinking? That was just it, you weren’t.

Your hand flies to cover your mouth, not wanting to make eye contact with Jin. You didn’t know what to expect except the absolute worse, and when he rests his hand on your knee, you look up.

His expression is sympathetic, “You know, you don’t have to be scared to talk to me.” His voice is low as to not scare you.

You search his eyes for a telltale sign that he’s affected. Usually, their eyes turn a bit hazy, but his were clear as day.

Considering you’d just cut yourself off from people as best you could, you weren’t sure if there was a possibility there were people out there that couldn’t be affected. Obviously others like you weren’t, but you could tell when you were near another sea-born, almost like a telepathic bond you had with your kind.

Jin was an enigma to say the least.

The fear that coursed through your veins subsided a bit, and it was slowly replaced with a building excitement. You might have found someone, a human none the less, that you could finally speak to. Your time of solitude might have finally been over.

Jin was scared to say anything else. He thought maybe he’d pushed you to far, been unfair, and built a new barrier between the two of you. It was when he saw the smile crawl onto your face that he realized he might have just cracked you right open.

Seeing that smile, one full of potential and excitement he didn’t quite understand, was like caffeine to the butterflies in his stomach. His heart raced a mile a minute, a warmth coursing through his veins filling him with an energy he’d never known before.

Now this was something he could get used to.

What he wasn’t expecting was for you to lunge forward and wrap your arms tightly around his neck, taking him a second to pull himself from the shock to return the hug.

“You wanna go somewhere and talk?” He asks, and your eyes light up.

You pull him up from his seat in the library, heading towards the dorms nodding your head.

“By the way,” you start, Jin following close behind you. You turn your head to look over your shoulder at him, a smirk on your face, “I know you did that on purpose, Jin.”

He knows he should’ve been worried by the tone behind your words, but once his name left your lips, that was all he could focus on the whole walk to your room.

-

“Never? Like, never ever?” Jin’s face contorts in amused surprise. He’d been questioning you for the past hour about everything under the sun, from childhood pet trauma to inappropriate crushes.

You roll your eyes, though a giggle escapes your lips, “No, I’ve never ever thought of a teacher that way.” You hold his pillow tighter to your chest as he falls over the end of his bed, clearly exasperated and not believing you for a second.

“There’s no way. There are at least, like, 3 of your professors that are, objectively, sexy as hell and you’re telling me you’ve never thought about?”

You shake your head, “Nope, not once.” The laughter easily flows from your lips as he gets frustrated.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” He smirks at you, and you pretend to get defensive.

“What, and you have?” That sends him over the edge in giggles, rolling around the bed, causing the whole thing to shake, including you.

He lifts himself up and stares at you, “Of course! I’m a normal, healthy man aren’t I?” You’re not sure how to respond without laughing and making him question himself, so you just playfully smack his arm and agree.

“Fine, fine. I guess I’m just a weirdo then.”

“Amen to that!” He bounces, smirking at you, earning himself another slap. He fakes hurt and snatches the pillow from your arms, pouting.

“I may be a weirdo, but you’re just a big baby.” Your hand caresses through his brown locks, his eyes peeking from the edge of the pillow, the smile in them giving himself away.

Being able to talk to each other out loud opened many new doors for the two of you in the weeks that followed. It was exciting to get to know someone on an intimate level like this, without fear of it going south the way it had before.

It was, surprisingly, normal. The most normal you had felt in a long, long time.

Suddenly you had someone to share your thoughts and feelings with, even the most mundane of them. Friendship unlocked this whole new side of yourself you’d never experienced before.

Jin felt the same way. He didn’t realize how he was just blowing through life like it was nothing until he met you. Every minute was spent finding something new he cherished about you, instead of wasting it away with childish things like he had in the past.

He found new meaning in every day, spending more time living and having fun with you, rather than complaining about his trials and tribulations to Namjoon and Yoongi (which they were utterly grateful to you for).

You both had something to look forward to every day; each other.

In the beginning you thought you were total opposites bound for failure. Jin was this upbeat, extrovert with a wild side. You were the quiet, introvert scared of human interaction.

Turns out you both just needed a nudge to find there was more in common there than you thought.

You both could be loud, stubborn, silly, and an absolute mess.

Could be quiet, modest, and hide yourselves away.

Both could be intense and emotional, but there for the other no matter what.

Jin was the yin to your yang. You could be whatever the other needed at any specific moment in time.

You both didn’t want to admit it to each other quite yet, but he was your best friend, the only person you wanted and needed, and vice versa.

You’d never experienced love before, didn’t know what it felt like or what to expect, but you believed in your heart it had to be something like this.

As you get up off the bed to put your shoes on and head back to your room, his hand wraps gently around your wrist. It’s late, the light of the moon seeping through his blinds, and he can’t help but admire the way it lights up your face as you turn to look at him.

“Stay?” He asks, and you don’t even have to answer.

Cuddling up to each other under the multitude of blankets covering his bed, you can’t help but truly feel at peace for the first time in your life, with your head laying on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat echoing through your ears as you both fall asleep.

-

You stayed in bed all day. Didn’t answer your phone when it went off, didn’t answer the door when he knocked, just stayed wrapped in your blanket, eyes focused on the clouds beyond your window.

It was the third anniversary of the incident. You didn’t know what else to call it. Black clouds hung over you, and the feeling like everything you had built with Jin would crumble the same way cast them harsher overhead.

You hadn’t even told him about it yet, amazed he had never once pushed you to do so either. Jin was curious by nature, but he knew some things about your past were off limits, and he respected that.

That didn’t stop him from worrying about the distance lately. You are his best friend, and you spent a majority of your time together. So when that came to an abrupt halt the day before, he desperately wanted to find out why so he could help pull you out it.

He missed you, and he hated knowing something was wrong that he couldn’t fix.

You were just about to pull yourself up to make a cup of tea when a loud series of knocks came from your door. You figured it was probably Jin again, but when they got harsher and faster, you decide to check just in case.

The mug you cradled in your hands fell to the floor, a light crash sounding out as it cracked into pieces.

“Shit.”

You picked them up as quickly as possible, tossing them to the trash and returning to the door.

A cold rush bled through your veins, a violent churn brewing in your stomach as you opened the door.

You didn’t even have time to prepare yourself before she was in your face, visibly distressed.

Her brown hair the same as it had been that day she locked eyes with you as you were escorted from the station, watching an officer hold her as back as she tried to go after you.

You thought she’d given up on crucifying you, or at least tried to. You never expected after three years for her to show up in person, eyes blazing in search of vengeance.

“I heard you’ve lured some new victim into your trap, where is he? Or have you already strung him up like you did Jay?” She spit, venom lacing every syllable.

You didn’t have much of a choice, so you moved away from her assault, giving her full access to search your room.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, Lia, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I’m sorry.” You keep your voice soft as not to stir the pot, but it doesn’t help. She’s visibly enraged and nothing was going to change that.

She pauses her search to rush you, get in your face, causing you to retreat, but she holds you in place like a rag doll.

“I won’t ever accept your apology. You killed my brother you bitch,” her grip on your arms tighten, causing you to wince.

“If you think, even for a second, that his death wasn’t all because of you, then you’re fucking thick. If it wasn’t for you, he’d still be here!” She choked, tears streaming down her face.

Paralyzed. You felt nothing, not the warm tears on your cheeks, the grip of her hand on your arm, the sharp sting as the other made contact with your face. Even as she left and a new figure entered your line of vision, you stood there; empty.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Jin wants to reach out for you, but is scared it might make things worse. It’s when you collapse in his arms he lets the breath he’d been holding in out, wrapping his arms around you, cradling you tight as you cry.

He’d never seen another person talk to you, let alone assault you like that girl just had. He was still processing everything that happened, and couldn’t help but wonder how far it would’ve gone if he hadn’t shown up.

A few minutes later, he’s holding you cuddled up in a blanket on your bed as the crying subsides.

Jin wants to ask what the hell happened, who that girl was, and why you just stood there and let her hurt you? There was no way in hell you could’ve done anything to deserve that outburst.

He peeks down at your tear stained face, red and wet snuggled into his chest. His heart felt like it was being crushed inside of him. Seeing you in such a state physically hurt him.

He hears you sniffle and looks down to see you peering up at him through wet lashes.

“I have to tell you something.”

-

Out of every possible thing you could’ve told him, this was not even in the realm of things he could’ve expected.

He was still trying to grasp the whole ‘siren’ thing, which should’ve sent him running for the hills, but the way you explained what happened with the guy first year, then the incident with his sister a few hours earlier, he didn’t think he could just walk away.

His mind and heart were in a battle, one choosing sanity and the other choosing you. The way you refused to look him in the eyes as you spilled your darkest secrets cast a heavy sadness onto him. He not only felt the pain from your words, but the pain you were feeling.

He knew he should’ve ran to comfort you, hold you, tell you it’d be alright and that it wasn’t your fault.

But a dark thought kept him rooted to his seat across the room from you.

What if it was?

He didn’t want to think this way, to believe that you could be behind something so horrible, but with the revelation of your ‘affliction’ his mind couldn’t help but wonder there.

You said it left people feeling like there was no other way. Like they were forced to pine for you, to long for you, until they couldn’t take it any more.

He’d heard stories of creatures from the sea that lured men to their deaths. Now he was face to face with one, and he was torn between the you he knew and the you he read about.

The horrid thought that everything he felt for you was all a trick made him sick to his stomach, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but once that thought took hold, he couldn’t break free from it.

He needed air, space, time to think.

All of this meant walking away from you.

A part of you knew it from the way his face dropped as you snuck a peek from the corner of your eye. It didn't stop the sinking feeling that you once again ruined everything.

You didn’t even bother looking at him as he left, missing the horrible attempt at a fake smile as he went, slightly shaking.

As Jin closed the door behind him, you both let a few tears free fall, crying for everything you had built together as it all came crashing down.

You didn’t care about Lia, the incident, anything. You just wished you’d never come here, met Jin, and hurt him. He deserved better than a monster.

And a monster is all you’d be.

-

“I’m just happy you’re finally coming home sweetheart. Your dad and I miss you.” A pathetic little smile formed on your lips, holding the phone with your shoulder as you finished packing the last things into your suitcase.

“I miss you guys too. See you in a few hours.” You set your phone down and cross the room to grab the book you’d been reading and shove it in your bag.

Christmas break finally arrived to relieve you of the dragging of classes and stuffy dorm. It’d been a while since you’d found time to go home, but you realized this was something you needed.

To get away.

It’d been over a month, and you quickly fell back into your old habits. Class, room, nothing in between. You dropped Psych, avoiding Jin at all costs, although he’d figured he’d done his best to avoid you as well.

The warmth that had taken up space in your previously empty life had fled as quickly as it came. You didn’t talk to anyone, you didn’t sign to anyone, you took on extra classes to finish early. You wanted to be done. You wanted to go home.

Luckily, you had the opportunity to take all online classes your last semester, so you would not be returning to the dorms in the spring. That chapter of your life was over, and even though you were sad to see it go, you knew there was nothing holding you here anymore.

The hassle of it all just wasn’t worth it.

Grabbing the few things you had left, the rest of which you had sold since you wouldn’t need it anymore, you made your way out of the room, locking it for the last time. Before you turned to head down the hallway, you took one last look down the hall to a familiar door.

You figured he’d probably already left for the holiday, since most of the dorms had. Not that it mattered, you wouldn’t speak to him and he wouldn’t speak to you.

Strangers once again.

The once resentment you harbored towards him for cutting you off without explanation was filled with sympathy. You couldn’t expect him to understand and accept you after everything that had happened. You wanted him to live a normal happy life, fall in love with a normal girl that would be good for him.

You couldn’t give him that and you had to accept that. In the end, you were happy with the time you did have together. He’d always be your best friend, no matter how much time and distance separated you.

You both harbored no ill feelings towards each other, it was just something that had to be done, something that was inevitable in your opinion. People like you and people like him just weren’t meant to be.

Grabbing the handle of your suitcase, you make your way down to the lobby to return your key and head to the train station before your train left.

Stepping out of the elevator, you see a familiar figure standing at the front desk, back towards you.

You could tell that brown hair from anywhere though, and you slowed your pace to give him enough time to leave.

Instead, he turns in your direction, a bag in one hand, an envelope in the other.

Your eyes meet, and you have half a mind to just keep walking, you could mail them the key once you were home.

He quickly blocks your path, however, eyes not leaving yours.

It’s awkward and intense and neither of you know what to say, or whether you should say anything at all. After a minute, Jin clears his throat, extending the envelope out to you.

You stare at it, and look back up at him as he shakes it, inviting you to take it.

“I wanted to leave you this before I went home, but since we’re here...” You take it from him, but as you are about to open it, he steps closer and lays his hand over yours.

He stares down at you, his expression soft, like it had been months before when he held you in his arms at night. You had missed that, so, so much.

“I-I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry,” he starts, a red tinge finding solace at the tips of his ears.

“I shouldn’t have left you like I did. I was just, scared. I didn’t know what to think about everything and I thought maybe I was being affected,” he cringes at that, voicing his thoughts of you possibly ‘controlling’ him made him feel like a dumbass, “I know, it was stupid and not fair at all. I just...” he pauses his rant, waiting for any hint of a reaction from you, but you stay silent, waiting for him to finish saying whatever was on his mind.

He takes in a deep breath, “I thought that everything I felt for you might not have been real. I got scared it was all in my head and I didn’t know what to do. But, I realized that everything about me and you was the only sure and real thing in my life. I missed the way you roll your eyes at me when I make dumb jokes, the way your noise crinkles up when your trying to understand something, the way you laugh obnoxiously when I do something stupid,” His hand moves forward to grasp yours as he continues his rant.

“I miss listening to you try to convince me that Spider-Man is the most earnest Avenger even though we both know he’s not,” that earns a crack of a grin despite the tears forming in your eyes. “I miss holding you close at night and hearing our heartbeats mix together in the open air as we fall asleep.”

Jin cups your cheek in his other hand, thumb sliding to wipe away a fallen tear. You lean into his hand, reminiscing in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I miss you.” He says, his face inching closer to yours, your breaths mixing together between the two of you. You don’t know what to say, but luckily he takes initiative and slowly closes the gap between you.

A warmth envelopes both of you, spreading from your lips and seeping into every fiber of your bodies. The feeling of his lips against yours steals the air from your lungs and heightens every one of your senses. His hands find purchase on the small of your back, your arms curling around his neck to dispel any space between you.

The tension that releases from you is replaced with what you can only describe as pure love.

As you pull apart, Jin rests his forehead against yours, placing another kiss to your lips as you giggle.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to figure out. I love you.” His smile spreads to yours and you rub the tips of your noses together.

“I love you too,” he leans in for another kiss, but you stop him, a smirk on your lips, “even though you most definitely are a dumb-ass.” He laughs, breathily and pulls you tighter to him.

“I deserve that. I’m your dumb-ass, though.”

You part ways to head home for break with the promise of seeing each other in a few days to spend Christmas together.

When you settled onto the train, you pulled the forgotten envelope from your coat pocket, taking the letter out that resided inside.

As the train began its journey, you read every word of the letter with warmth in your heart.

In detail, was every single thing about you he had fallen in love with.

He’d fallen in love with you; all of you.

And he’d never walk away again.

You’d never be alone again.

The End.

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

Hey Guys,

   First story is officially out! Hope I did you all and Mr. Worldwide Handsome justice. This ended up being longer than I originally anticipated, but I think it needed it to really set everything up. Also, if there are any typos or grammatical errors, feel free to let me know, I’m human, I make mistakes. Kicking off 7 Days of Halloween with a cute little Jin-ie love story, what could be better? I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Stay Spooky! More to come!

P.S. Sorry it’s a bit late, Tumblr is on the fritz and wouldn’t let me post it.

-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🌙

7 Days of Halloween: Day 3 Update

   Today is Joon’s day boys, and I couldn’t be more excited for this story to come out (@ 7 p.m. EST). Honestly pretty proud of it and I hope you all enjoy it. Everybody needs some tooth-rotting Joon fluff in their lives, am I right or am I right? (Hint: I’m right) Thank you so much for the love and support so far, I really appreciate it and it means the absolute world to me! Love you guys!💜

-Moonie🌙

Gif not mine

The Heart Grows Fonder (Namjoon x Dryad!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, Ultra-mega fluff

Warnings: Explicit language (barely), almost murder of a plant, slight mention of seasonal depression, P.O.V. switching, not a lot of warnings, it is Joon’s after all

Word Count: 6K

Dying. First it was just a leaf or two falling to the edge of the windowsill. Then suddenly the green color began to fade to a dull brown. It’s leaning too, almost ready to topple over and give in to the sweet release of death. Namjoon wishes he could indulge in the same right now. 

How on Earth had he killed this poor, innocent plant, in the mere three days he’s had it? Namjoon didn’t even want to think of how utterly embarrassing it was going to be to walk into that meeting on Thursday with the corpse of his plant cradled in his hands. 

He could hear the president gasping while the other members try to stifle their laughter.

“What did you do to it?!?” He’d say.

“I don’t know-it had light an-and I watered it every day!” Joon would plead, ears tinged red as his embarrassment slowly choked him. 

Joon rubbed the back of his neck, a long sigh escaping his lips as he stared at the corpse of a plant sitting on his windowsill. 

“What am I going to do?” Joon tore his eyes away from the crime scene to check the time on his watch. 

5:30. He turned back to the window and noted the sun slowly lowering to the edge of the horizon, colors just beginning to debut across the sky. He had so much to do and there seemed to never be enough time in the day to get it all done. 

He again took a pained glance at his poor plant and wondered how he was going to explain this to the club. If we’re being honest, it was Joon’s fault for joining this stupid club in the first place. 

In retrospect, he thought it’d just be a nice, calm place to indulge in some light conversation about plant-life, something Joon had always been interested and infatuated with.

How was he supposed to know the president was going to force them all to become plant parents for the entire semester. 

Now, only three days after he was given the role of ‘father,’ he’d somehow managed to murder his ‘child.’ And the worst part is he’s not even sure how the hell he did it!

After throwing himself a three minute pity party (two minutes longer than usual), Joon decides there’s gotta be something he can do to save himself from the embarrassment of admitting his incompetence in two days, so he grabs a jacket hanging from his door, carefully picks up the poor, lifeless bastard, and heads out. 

Joon knows there are a few plant nurseries on the other side of town, but he doesn’t exactly want to make that trek so late at night, especially when he’s only got his bike to get him there. 

Instead, he wanders aimlessly, trying to find something, anything, that can help him out. Would it be considered lying if he just bought himself a new plant and tried to pass it off as the original? Would they even be able to tell? If they caught him, he’d be twice as embarrassed, so he takes that thought and promptly punts it out of his mind.

A few minutes into biking while fighting with himself, he sees a bright neon sign hanging cheerfully down the street despite the night slowly enveloping everything in darkness. The words Flower and Shop drawing his attention and decides at the very least he might be able to get some advice on the plant or even some sympathy from a random stranger.

Both sound pretty good at the moment, so he locks his bike to the nearest street light and heads towards the door. 

He takes a deep breath, checking to make sure the little guy is still in his pocket, and prays that the door doesn’t have one of those stupid little bell-Ring!

He tries not to cringe too hard, of course he always jinxes himself, and looks around to see if anyone heard him come in. It was bad enough he’s pretty sure he’s the only person out at this hour in this part of town, but he’s a grown-ass man looking for help for his dead plant. 

This is a new level of pathetic he never knew he’d reach. 

When no one approaches him, no signs of life anywhere but the flowers decorating every inch of the store, he smiles to himself as he looks back down at his pocket, “looks like you’re not the only thing dead around here buddy.” 

“Can I help you?” He shoots around, his heart jumping into his throat when he hears the voice behind him. 

“Jesus-you scared the shit out of me.” He says, hand jumping to cover his heart, trying to calm himself down. He takes a proper look at you, a small, soft looking girl, probably a foot and a half shorter than him, heat causing redness to bleed from the tips of his ears across his face. 

This tiny ass girl nearly gave him a heart attack. Now he had reached a level of pathetic he didn’t even know existed. 

You stood there, waiting for an answer, and like he suddenly regained the ability to speak, he clears his throat, “Um, yeah-I mean, maybe? I have,” he pulls the plant from his pocket, losing a few more leaves in the process, and holds it out to you, “this plant, and it’s dying.” 

He sees the way you cringe when he pulls it from his pocket, looking from him to the plant, then back to him. 

“I can see that.” The corner of your lips turns up, your words causing Namjoon to lose his train of thought in the stead of his complete and utter humiliation, so you continue, hoping to relieve him a bit.

“By the discoloration and the rate it’s losing its leaves,” you pluck one from the poor thing to prove your point, “you’re probably over-watering it.” 

Looking at the rapidly fading plant, you can instantly tell it’s drowning. You want to hold it in your hand, tell it it’s going to be okay, and nurse it back to health yourself, but that wasn’t exactly an appropriate course of action right now.

It made you crazy sometimes how people could just treat their plants like objects. They were living things that needed proper care and attention, and it hurt to see them on the brink of death due to human ignorance. 

You didn’t want to assume this guy didn’t really care. Obviously it’s just a plant to him, like they are to most people, but he is here, showing it to you and asking for help. 

He looks at the lifeless mass in his hands and then at you again. 

“Is there any way to fix it? Like, bring it back, or something.” 

Reaching out to take the plant into your hands, he releases it over to you, fingers brushing one another’s before gently wrapping around the pot. You lift a finger to graze over the few remaining leaves and stem.

You could feel the small trace of life still coursing through its veins. It might take some time, but there was definitely a way to bring this baby back. Of course, it just needed your special touch to jump-start things. 

“I think so, follow me.” You start towards the back of the shop, and with the man behind you, you softly caress the leaves again with a little extra mph, circle the dirt around the roots with your index finger, and whisper a few encouraging words for only the plant to hear. 

Just like magic, you feel the life force growing, a bit of green already seeping from the base of the plant up. 

A smile breaks out across your face and you pull a new pot from under the desk as you round to the opposite side, the man stopping opposite of you to wait for further instructions. 

You carefully re-pot the little plant, pulling out some plant food to mix in with the new, dry, soil, and spritzing it with a bit of water to help it settle in. 

The whole time, Namjoon is just watching in both awe and nervousness. He wasn’t sure if any of this would actually work, 100% sure he’d have to deal with the humiliation of messing up on a freaking club activity. Much to his surprise, in the few minutes you had the plant, it seemed to spring back to life faster than he could snap his fingers. 

He didn’t know too much about the intricacies of plant care and management, but he did know that plants don’t bounce back that quickly...right? 

The rationalist in him figured this was normal plant behavior, that maybe this type of plant had a faster healing rate or whatever; any explanation that made logical sense. 

The skeptic in him reasoned that it had nothing to do with you, that people could not magically heal anything and he was just being weird. 

But the wonderer in him couldn’t help but question if what he was seeing was something that couldn’t be explained within the realms of logic. Maybe this was something extraordinarily unfathomable. Maybe even magical. 

As if coming to his senses, he mentally kicks himself for even entertaining the thought and finds himself once again not paying attention to the girl who just addressed him. 

“Sorry, what?” You roll your eyes, used to people zoning out when it came to directions of proper plant care. You push the plant as well as some extra plant food, soil, and a piece of paper towards him. 

“Your plant should be fine now that it’s in dryer soil. These,” You point to the paper, which he lifts to his face to read the writing intricately scrawled across it, “are some simple instructions on how often to water, repot, and feed it.” 

He looks over the paper, taking in the new information and storing it in his mind, though he’ll probably have to tack up the note so he’ll actually remember what to do. Stuffing everything else into his pockets, he reaches for the plant, but you quickly pull it away from him.

He’s confused, obviously, but you just shake your head.

“You are NOT shoving this poor thing back in there.” Releasing his breath with an airy laugh, he rubs the back of his neck, gesturing towards the front of the store where his bike is still tethered to the light. 

“I don’t have anywhere else to put it.” Your face contorts as you think for a solution, looking around the store. A small basket and some rope catch your eye, and suddenly an idea shoots into your mind. 

Without enlightening him on your plan, you grab the supplies and usher him to grab the plant and follow you outside. You stop in-front of his bike, paying no mind to his questioning looks and sounds. 

Wrapping the rope around the front and handlebars a few times, you feed it through a few holes in the basket and tie it securely to his bike. Wiping your hands and admiring your work, you look up at him, finally understanding your vision. 

He places the plant safely in the basket and you take the hair scarf that was tied around your head to neatly stuff it around the plant to cushion it in place. 

He goes to grab it and return it to you, but you stop his hand with yours, his eyes shooting to yours at the contact. You quickly drop your hand and shake your head with a smile.

“It’s safer that way, don’t want this little guy getting thrown around.” Namjoon can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“But it’s yours, how can I return it?” He’s nervous now, and he knows how stupid he sounds. You can come back and bring it to her dumb-ass. 

You giggle, a blush appearing on his cheeks at the sound. 

“Guess you’ll just have to come back to see me then.” You smile at him, and oh boy does his heart start racing at the fact that you’re smiling and flirting with him. He wasn’t imagining it, right? This beautiful girl, who saved him from a lifetime of embarrassment, is actually flirting with him? 

His smile only grows, nodding his head as he unlocks his bike and grabs the handlebars.

“I guess I will.” 

Silence. Not uncomfortable, no, calming, soothing, perfect. The only sounds you both can hear are the chirping of crickets and the beating of your hearts. The cool night air contrasting to and soothing the heat of blushing cheeks.

“So, I guess I’ll see you, then?” You say after a moment.

He doesn’t want the moment to end, but he also doesn’t want you to think he’s ignoring you again. 

Turning his bike around, preparing to take off, he nods, “Absolutely.” 

You don’t say anything, and he gets ready to leave, swinging his leg over and resting it on the pedal. 

“Wait!” You shout, louder than you had meant to, and now it’s your turn to get embarrassed. He only offers a reassuring smile, waiting.

“My name’s Y/N...by the way.” 

Y/N. A beautiful name. It fit you so well. 

“Namjoon.” He says with a grin so wide, his cheeks push his eyes almost closed. 

Another second of silence and you return to the door, resting a hand on the knob, turning back to Namjoon. 

“Goodnight Namjoon.” Your voice is soft, like a whisper so only he could hear.

“Goodnight Y/N, and thank you.”

And just like that, he’s off. 

His ride home is filled with thoughts of you. 

You head back in and close up shop, and as you walk up the steps to your apartment on the second floor, you thank your lucky stars you gave Mr. Chen the night off and decided to stay up a bit later than usual. 

—

The soft silky fabric grazes his palm, feeding it through his fingers delicately, savoring the feeling. It might be weird, but it reminded him of you; soft and delicate. The pattern, a bold geometric mess of bright colors, reminded him of you as well. 

Namjoon had only just met you, yet he felt as if he’d known you for years. You were so carefree and nonchalant with him that he couldn’t help but feel drawn to you; close to you. 

You spoke to him as if he were an old childhood friend you hadn’t seen in a while. It made him want to spend time with you, get to know you, let you get to know him. 

He wasn’t a stranger to talking to girls, he’s had his fair share of silly little romances here and there. He knew how to tell if there was something there, and boy, did he more than feel it the other night with you. He felt it, saw it, heard it, tasted it, every single one of his senses were tingling with anticipation to know every inch of you. 

You not only saved him from embarrassment at the meeting, you sparked something in him he had never felt before. He didn’t know exactly what to classify it as, considering you had only just met, but the intense urge to see you again, and again, and again, spoke volumes to the fact that this was not going to be some silly little friendship or romance. 

This is important, something life-changing, and he was more than ready to dive in and see where you’d take him, if you’d take him at all.

Even though he is incredibly sure there is indeed something between the two of you, there is a nagging part of him that can’t help but be terrified that this feeling was just his. You were just being nice to a customer and that was all. 

Joon breaks from his thoughts, holding the scarf in his hand as he swivels his chair around to stare at the objects you’d given him in his windowsill. His plant was flourishing, growing better than it had when he first got it. 

According to the club president, you’d given him some pretty high grade soil and plant food, but Namjoon knew that his plant’s success had more to do with your touch than the dirt. 

It clicked in his brain that you didn’t even bill him for anything. That soil is apparently pretty expensive (in soil standards anyways), not to mention the food, and your time spent helping him. He never thought to pay you, and you didn’t charge him. 

Was it because it just slipped your mind? Were you just being nice? Did you do it on purpose? Namjoon didn’t know, but he wanted to believe it was something more. Who would give free stuff to a stranger? 

Joon decided he not only wanted to return your scarf, but to pay you for everything. He didn’t feel right about it, even if you did do it on purpose or to be nice. In the back of his mind, he knew this would also give him a way to talk with you more, in case he gave you your scarf back and that was it. 

Namjoon wanted every chance he could get to spend even just a few more seconds in your company. 

He booked it back to the shop in record time, anticipation flooding every inch of his being. Namjoon couldn’t wait to see you, touch your hand as he handed you your scarf back, hear your giggle when he inevitably says something stupid, but you insist it’s just cute.

Ugh, it was like playing a movie in his brain he never wanted to end. He didn't even really know you but he was so excited to get to. 

He didn’t even bother locking his bike this time, setting up it up against the side of the building instead. It was when he finally stood at the door, hand reaching out towards the handle, his nerves caught up to him.

Before he could overthink it, he was through the door, ring of the bell sounding through the shop and causing him to jump a bit. He quickly settled and began surveying the room for you. 

He thought he’d catch you behind the counter this time, it being normal shop hours, but he found a little old man in your stead. Namjoon tried not to show his disappointment in fear the man would see and get offended, but his face had already dropped before he could stop it. 

As Joon walked up to the counter, the man smiled at him, “She’s in the back.” He waved his hand motioning Namjoon forward, but before he could ask the man how he knew that was what Joon was here for, he simply placed a single finger to his lips and turned back to his work. 

Not going to lie, Joon was a little startled by the exchange, but took it as a sign and headed towards the back of the shop. At the back wall was a little door with a window in it that opened into a greenhouse of sorts connected to the building. 

When he saw a familiar figure sitting at the long bench just beyond the door, he couldn’t help but pause to watch you. 

You were smiling softly, looking down on a tiny green plant resting in a white pot. That smile nearly melted Joon’s heart into a puddle in his chest and he slowly reached out to grab the handle.

But just as he was about to open the door, he saw your lips move, almost like you were having a conversation with the little thing. Namjoon thought it was kind of quirky and adorable how much you seemed to love plants, but when he saw the plant begin to move, almost growing and waving before his very eyes, his whole being froze. 

Did he-did he see that right? He blinked a few times, trying to wipe the image clear from his sight, but suddenly a small bloom grew from the top of the plant causing your lips to curl up in a big grin, clasping your hands together in awe. 

Namjoon didn’t know what to do, what to think, how the hell would he know what to say? He had a hard enough time trying to talk to you without sounding like an idiot the last time, but after this? Was he crazy?

Joon quickly dropped his hand from the door handle, thinking it’d be best to come back another time when he wasn’t having a full blown mental breakdown, but the sudden movement caused the handle to creak.

Your head shot towards the sound and you instantly paled when you saw Namjoon standing at the door. Had he seen? What could you tell him?

Joon’s cover was blown so he decided to just rip the band-aid off and go in. He tries to hide the panic on his face as best he can, but you can tell something was bothering him. 

“Hey,” was all you could offer him. You weren’t sure how long he’d been standing there, what he had seen, and if he would question you or not. And it wasn’t like this was something you could casually bring up to a person, let alone one you just met. ‘Yeah, so I can talk to plants and help them grow and stuff. Pretty cool, right?’ That would definitely be a one-way ticket to an institution, not to mention a total mood killer. 

“Hey.” Joon doesn’t know if it’s his place to say anything about what he saw, what he thinks he saw anyways, and remembers the reason he’s here. 

“I, um, brought you your scarf back.” Joon reaches into his back pocket, grabbing the delicate fabric and holding it out to you. Just like in his daydream, your hand reaches out slowly to take it and your fingers brush his. The feeling alone almost causes him to forget everything he had witnessed, but when your fingers pull away, taking the scarf with it, the image burns back into his brain.

An awkward silence slowly fills the void between the two of you. You don’t take your eyes off of him, silently studying him, trying to tell if he saw something he shouldn’t have. Joon, though, surprisingly, was pretty good at acting like it never happened, quashing your suspicions. 

He takes a quick glance at the plant sitting before you on the bench, little yellow bloom happily sitting at the top of a leafy green stem, then turns back to you, “Cute flower, what is it?” 

His curiosity in the bloom almost gives him away, but you figure he’s just trying to make conversation. 

Turning back to the flower, you pick it up by the pot and hop off your stool, walking towards the shelves of flowers in the back of the greenhouse. Namjoon follows, watching as you carefully place it down among others similar to it, just different colors. 

“Viola Tricolor, more commonly referred to as a Pansy,” Wiping your hands on your jeans, you turn back to Joon, “They come in all sorts of colors, but the yellow ones are my favorite.” 

Joon can’t help but smile when you do, the way you talked about plants made your eyes light up and he liked seeing you look so happy. 

You both wander back through the greenhouse, taking your time as you go, close enough to one another that your shoulder sometimes nudges his arm. 

“Why the yellow ones?” Namjoon questions, looking down at you as you take quick glances at the plants you pass, just to make sure everyone was doing well. 

“Hmm,” you ponder, drawing it out which makes Namjoon’s smile grow.

“Pansies are said to be the flower of freethinkers and the yellow ones specifically stand for happiness and positive energy. I look at them and they just make me smile, I guess.” 

You peek up at Namjoon to see him looking forward, thinking over your answer with a grin plastered on his face.

He thought of himself as sort of a freethinker sometimes, and he likes that you have a similar mind to his in ways. Of course you loved them for the positivity, in Namjoon’s mind, you are the most positive person he’s met. You always look so happy and content, at least, all the times Namjoon has looked, and in the two days he’s known you, that was a lot. 

“Cute.” He thought he’d said it in his mind, but when he hears a giggle escape your lips, he realizes he’s voiced it out loud and immediately flushes red.

His hand quickly finds its way to the back of his neck and a flustered chuckle escapes his lips, “I mean, they’re cute flowers, and that’s a cool reason to like them.” He could kick himself for how idiotic he sounded, rambling on.

You didn’t mind, though, in fact, you thought it was also rather cute. 

Cuter than the flowers, but don’t tell them that.

—

“By the way, who was that guy behind the counter?” 

After finishing up a few things around the shop, Namjoon had tried to pay you for the things you’d given him. It took him a minute to calm down when you told him it wasn’t necessary and instead suggested he could take you out for ice cream as repayment. 

You didn’t officially say the word ‘date’ but in Joon’s mind, this was definitely a date. 

You take another spoonful, savoring not only the flavor of the ice cream, but the time you were spending with him.

“Mr. Chen owns the place, he let me move into the apartment upstairs as long as I helped him with the shop.” 

“So that’s why you were there so late.” Namjoon takes another big spoonful of his ice cream, careful not to make a mess and embarrass himself yet again in front of you. It didn’t bother him too much though, because hearing your laugh, even if it was at his expense, was worth it.

You nod, resting your dish on your knee, staring out at the bustling town before you from the bench you occupied. 

The best place to get ice cream, you told Namjoon, was this little place in the heart of town, just a few blocks away from his school. Despite being so close, Namjoon had never been there, so he took your word for it. 

It was a bit of a walk from the shop, so Joon brought his bike along just in case.

When you got there, you both were so overwhelmed by the amount of flavors to choose from, you let a few other people ahead of you while you decided. Eventually, you both settled on your respective favorites and found a bench to relax on while you ate.

Even though it was still early September, the air could get quite chilly at night. Add on the frozen treats, and you were practically shivering once the sun went down. Namjoon, ever the gentleman, noticed right away, shrugging his jacket off and dropping it around your shoulders. 

He didn’t think much of it until he noticed the pink color on your cheeks, instantly sending the same color to blossom on his own. 

The silence was comfortable, it made you feel like time had slowed almost to a complete halt and you were the only two people left on the Earth. 

The street lights along with the cute rustic string lights that swung from shop to shop created the dreamiest atmosphere, it was almost like you were in a movie. 

Once the both of you were finished, you started your journey back to the shop. A few minutes in and Namjoon could tell you were growing tired by the way your figure slightly swayed and bumped into him every once in a while. 

He stops, pulling his bike forward and throws one leg over. 

You were so lost in thought you almost didn’t notice him stop, but when you turned back to ask him what he was doing, he just patted the back rack of his bike. 

Smiling, you carefully sit on the rack, wrapping your arms around Namjoon’s waist. You feel him tense up a bit at your touch, but when you lean your head to snuggle into his back, he relaxes and you head off. 

The ride is so smooth and calm you almost fall asleep clutched tightly to Joon. Every once in a while, you peak one sleepy eye open to look up at him. He looked so focused yet so serene it was beautiful. 

He is beautiful.

You let your eyes fall closed again, the cool night air blowing against your cheeks, Joon’s jacket wrapped around you to keep you warm. 

His bike comes to a stop and you slowly open your eyes, the front of the shop coming into focus. You tear yourself away from Joon to stretch and then hop of the bike. 

Namjoon just stares at you, smile bright as he watches you wake yourself up. 

“Thank you for the ice cream. We should hang out again sometime.” You smile at Joon, hoping he gets the hint that you want to spend more time with him. 

The tips of his ears turn red and his smile only grows, “Absolutely.”

This time, before he can leave, you push yourself forward, placing your lips to his warm cheek. You pull away and tell him goodnight, leaving with a wave as you shut the door to the shop.

Namjoon just sits there in shock. He lifts his hand to trace the place your lips had touched, still feeling their warmth after they were gone. 

Once he was sure you were out of sight, he let his fist fly up in the air to celebrate, quickly collecting himself and starting off for the dorms.

You, however, had managed to see his victory celebration, causing you to laugh at how utterly adorable he was. 

As you made your way up the stairs to your apartment door, you realized it was you who had something of his this time. 

Settling yourself on your couch, you held the fabric of Joon’s jacket close to you, the subtle smell of him tickling your senses and making you feel incredibly warm and tranquil.

It was your turn to go to him this time. 

—

That night was a real turning point for your and Namjoon’s budding relationship. 

When you took his jacket back to him the next day, he’d given you a full campus tour before inviting you to his room to watch a movie. After that, you’d spent every spare minute you could with him.

In-between classes Joon would visit you at work, sometimes bringing you lunch to share. When you were off, you’d go see him at the dorm and laze around in his room playing games, watching movies, and just talking about anything and everything. 

You made sure you both got out to walk enough before the cold set in, taking nice strolls through the park or through town. Sometimes Joon would wrap his hand around yours and you’d clasp it tightly, not looking at each other, but just enjoying the feeling.

After seeing how cute you looked falling asleep on his bike, he made it a point to take you somewhere on his bike every day. From the movies, to the shopping center, even to the lake one day so you both could skip stones before dark.

Namjoon was slowly taking over your heart, and you, his. How easily you fell in sync with each other just fell so incredibly natural, it was like the two of you were made for each other. 

You hadn’t noticed right away, but he quickly became your best friend, a position you’d never filled before. It felt strange yet so nice to be able to confide all the good and bad to someone who truly cares about you.

While Namjoon has plenty of friends, he’d never been as close to someone as he was with you. 

The way you made his heart race with just a simple smile, the way his palms start to sweat when you snuggle up close to him, the butterflies that erupt in his stomach when you laugh, it was total euphoria. 

You both had been spending so much time together in the past few months, it was hard to miss when your mood started to fizzle as the winter season began. 

It was like the light had been sucked from you, leaving you cold and weak, and Namjoon wasn’t sure what to do. You tried to act normal around him, but it was obvious you weren’t feeling right. After a few days, your energy had completely depleted.

Namjoon had to cram for finals, but when he’d call to check up on you, either you didn’t answer, or you’d tell him you were fine and he should focus on his studies.

That didn’t stop Joon from worrying about you, in fact, it just made it worse, to the point where you had to tell him not to come see you in fear you’d get him ‘sick’ even though you both knew that wasn’t true. 

You just didn’t want to bum him out or distract him, and telling him the real reason behind your seasonal depression didn’t seem like an option just yet.

After two days, Namjoon couldn’t take it anymore. 

—

You were wrapped up so tightly in your comforter you didn’t even hear your door open, only realizing when the side of your bed dipped that someone had come in. You peek your head out from under the covers and see Joon, a sympathetic smile on his face.

He reaches his hand out to run a finger down your cheek, softly caressing the side of your face. You lean in to his touch, closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy the warmth that bloomed under his touch. 

You knew he’d show up and check on you, after all, it wasn’t like you to stay cooped up in your apartment all day. After dodging his questions and concerns for a week now, you’re actually surprised it took him this long, but Joon was one to understand the need for space, and he wasn’t going to force you to open up when you didn’t want to. 

His worries finally got the best of him and despite your insistence on being fine, he decided he’d just pop in real quick and see how you were doing. He knew you weren’t at your best right now, and he could only wonder as to what was causing it, but when he saw the little plant in the windowsill out of the corner of his eye, it clicked.

The little guy had been sort of forgotten since you hadn’t been over for a while, and he was definitely suffering. Namjoon remembered you telling him once about how some plants don’t do well during the winter months, even indoors. 

A light bulb flashed in his head, remembering the events of the day he brought your scarf back, and suddenly he knew exactly what to do. 

If his plant was feeling down, you must know how it felt, and he came up with the best plan to help. 

So, he grabbed the little plant from its home in his window, wrapped it in one of his scarves instead of putting it in his pocket this time, and headed to your place. 

Now that he was here, he could see the resemblance between you and the little plant. Pale, limp, and sad. It made him feel guilty for not coming to see you sooner, but all he could do was be here now. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He can see it on your face, but he wants to hear your voice. You smile softly, sitting up from the bed and holding the hand that was previously on your cheek.

“I’m okay, just a little under the weather.” He noted the multiple layers adorning your body and wanted to just snuggle up to you right that second, but his plan had to come first.

“I brought you something, I need your help again.” He reveals the plant from behind him and you stare at it for a second, sympathy drawing a slight frown over your face.

You take the plant from his hands, a feeling of dejavu washing over you as your fingers touch, and turn your attention back to Joon. 

“It’s because of the weather Joon, I don’t know what you want me to do-” He takes the plant from you to set it down on the stand next to your bed, grabbing both your hands in his.

Before you can question him further, he takes on of your hands and rests it at the base of the plant. It’s hard not to see what he’s getting at as he looks from the plant to you, content face smiling. 

There’s a feeling of nervousness that suddenly washes over you. Chen was the only one who knew about your gift and sharing it with another person felt like a big step. If you were going to take it with anyone, though, it’d be Namjoon. 

You close your eyes, mustering up all the energy you could even though your body felt drained. You feel the warmth tickle the nerves in your hand and when you peek your eyes open again, green seeps through the little plant, perking it right back up. You can feel the life coursing through it and it makes you feel better. 

You felt more alive. 

Namjoon just sat there with a smile, knowing this was what you needed to get back on your feet. Just one little win to remind you that life did not completely die in the cold, it just hibernated, waiting for better days. 

You knew better days were coming too, knowing Joon would be by your side. 

You go to turn back to Namjoon, to thank him for helping you out of your funk, but instead feel his warm lips press sweetly to yours. 

This wasn’t the first time you had kissed Namjoon, but it felt so different from every other time. Like this kiss held new promises and would lead to new and better things. It was like your whole future together held in one intimate action. 

Helping his plant made you feel good, but this kiss breathed the life right back into you. 

The next day you decided to accompany Joon to the last Botany meeting of the semester. Holding his hand tightly in yours, you couldn’t wait to spend Christmas break together and every day after that. 

He holds the door open for you, ever the gentleman, and the president looks up at the two of you. His eyes lock on you for a moment and then he directs his attention to Joon.

“Who’s this Namjoon? We usually don’t have guests.” 

Joon only smiles down at you, holding the little plant in one hand, his hand in the other, and look back to the president.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

—

Fast forward a few years later and you and Joon are walking up to the front porch of your shared home after a warm summer night’s stroll. You pass the flowers that line the sidewalk and they seem to perk up in your presence. 

Passing the large willow tree in your front yard, you grasp Joon’s hand a little tighter as he lifts them to place a kiss to the back of yours. You see both of your initials grown into the bark of the tree, which showed up after you moved in. Just recently, the beginnings of a third name starting to grow just beneath. 

Your other hand goes to rest on your stomach, knowing what else was growing. 

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

Oh my gosh, 

     Day 3 is out you guys, holy crap is this week flying by. Not going to lie, but so far, Joon’s is kinda my favorite (even though I say that about every one), but for real, I’m pretty proud of this one. This series has been a blast so far, and I hope you all are enjoying yourselves as well. Stay tuned the rest of the week for Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kookie’s stories. Love you all, and Stay Spooky!💜

-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🌙

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

My Last Hope (Clairvoyant!Taehyung x Spirit!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of insomnia, death, murder, stalking, POV switching

Word Count: 7K 

Running. Faster. Take the stairs three at a time. The crash of glass. A loud bang. A puddle of blood.

Taehyung awakens with a start, chest heaving and a thick layer of sweat causing goosebumps to break out across his sweltering skin. He’s disoriented, gaze hazy and not catching on anything to focus and ground him. He’s panicking. Rubbing furiously at his eyes and slowing his breathing to a steady rhythm, he sits up in his bed and peels the comforters away from himself. The light peeking in from his window helps him fix his attention and he remembers that he’s in his room, safe and sound. Just a dream.

A few hours later and dawn is stretching across the sky, lighting up Taehyung’s apartment as he marks another tally in his journal. That’s the 15th time. Nothing’s changed, no break in the days, it’s all the same. Rickety steps. Broken glass. Blood. But what does it mean?

After making himself breakfast and staring off into space for a good twenty minutes, he decides it’s a good enough time to start work. Working from home was the only way he could, somewhat, get anything done. Too many distractions flooded the outside world, too many things that catch his eye and his alone. In the safety and comfort of his own abode, at least he wouldn’t get weird stares when he spent too long searching for a glimpse of something not really there, or straining to hear something no one else could. 

Taehyung spends what he would say as a good hour of being ‘productive’ before he starts getting that weird sensation again. The one that tingles from his toes, up his spine, and into his head. The one that makes him feel full of static and like everything around him is alight and spinning.

Drawing his eyes away from the screen ahead to survey his surroundings, he tries once again to pinpoint the cause of his discomfort. There has to be something causing this, there is no way that this is just a normal thing now. After his efforts come up dry, he goes back to his laptop, ending his work to just blindly search the internet to try and shake it off. 

As if to make this strange feeling worse, Tae finally looks at what he’s been searching for the past twenty minutes, and it leads him to an address of a house. An old, abandoned, familiar house. 

His blood runs cold. Flashes of his nightmares course through his vision, and he has half a mind to close the laptop, put it somewhere far away from him and lock himself in his room. 

“Maybe I’m still asleep,” he murmurs quietly, taking a few mere seconds to collect his thoughts and calm himself down. But instead of dropping everything and moving on, he delves deeper into the place. Built in the early 1800s, abandoned a few years prior to the present, and about to be demolished by the end of next month. Nothing seemingly out of the ordinary, and Tae has plenty of experience with that.

Yet, something about it still pulls him in, beckons him to dive even deeper, until it’s almost 3 a.m. the next morning and his eyes glaze over so bad he can’t see straight. His head lolls back and he finally starts to fall asleep.

Crash. Broken glass. A scream. Blood. Tae shoots from his chair so fast it tips to the side and both come tumbling to the ground with a loud bang. His neighbors probably hate him already with the number of times he’s awoken in the night screaming when the nightmares began. 

He rubs his sore side and sits up with a loud sigh. A quick glance at the clock hanging on his wall says noon, and he’s grateful he got at least a few hours of semi-peaceful slumber. Even after his nap, however, he still feels that tingling sensation at the back of his neck. 

When he looks back up at the picture of that house on his laptop, the feeling grows until it’s coursing through every fiber of his being and he can’t just ignore it anymore. If he’s being honest, Tae does that a lot. When it all becomes too much for him, his preferred course of action is to pretend it doesn’t exist. If only things were ever that simple. 

Pencil scratches haphazardly across paper as he takes note of the address in his journal. Now, trespassing in some creepy rundown house all the way over on the east side of town is not what Taehyung would call a good time by any means, but it sounds better than a lifetime of nightmares and static nerves. Sometimes the best way to face a nightmare is head-on and hopefully he can keep his. 

—

That night, as Taehyung drives away from the familiar buildings that make up his block in favor of the desolate rural houses that make up the east side, that feeling inside his body seems to grow. However, it was no longer an uncomfortable, static feeling, more like, a fuzzy warmth he didn’t know he was capable of. 

If his intuition has taught him anything, it was that this is a sign he’s finally doing something right, and he rarely gets those. 

Driving at night made him a bit uncomfortable, not going to lie, but he didn’t have much of a choice. The house was too far to walk and he wasn’t sure if he’d even make it there if he walked alone. In the dark. At night. 

Taehyung is prone to giving himself anxiety he surely doesn’t need, he argues it’s one of his many charms. When he finally pulls up to the house, well, he actually parks a block away so it wouldn’t be too suspicious, he starts mulling over all the possible outcomes of tonight.

99% of them end poorly. 

Just as he is about to put the key back into the ignition and give up on his dumb theory, the feeling overwhelms him to the point he feels sick. He flings his car door open and heaves himself out onto the concrete, sure he was about to vomit. 

It takes him a second to collect himself, pushing off the ground to come to a wobbly stand. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll go.” He’s not sure why he’s addressing the feeling as if it were another being, it’s just this sense he gets that it’s trying to tell him he needs to buck up and do it already. 

Great, so even mystical forces are calling him out for being a coward, awesome. 

Brushing himself off, he stalks to the back of his car, grabbing his bag and a flashlight out of the trunk and starts towards the house. 

The closer he gets, the creepier everything seems to get. The paint is peeling off the siding, broken windows haphazardly boarded up. As he ascends the few steps up to the porch, each one creaks in a different pitch, adding a terrifying soundtrack to the night. 

Taehyung stares at the door, falling slightly off its hinges and debates whether it was right to go in or not. It’s not like he was invading anyone’s privacy, nobody had lived there in years.

His hand slowly reaches out to grasp the door handle, the cool metal of it contrasting the burning of his skin. He’s not just nervous, he’s terrified.

He’d never investigated his feelings before, and none of them had ever been quite as strong as this one. He was worried if this would make his affliction worse, or if this was all going to be some trap.

Again, Taehyung was mildly paranoid, but for good reasons. 

A loud creak sends a shiver up his spine as the door swings open, the gust of air it created sending some dust and cobwebs into the air.

His head shoots from side to side, making sure no one was watching him before he enters the house, careful of his steps. 

The inside of the house didn’t look as old and battered as the outside; in fact, it looks pretty normal aside from the ominous white sheets covering a few pieces of furniture and the spiderwebs making their homes in every corner. 

Despite his fight or flight response telling him to book it back to his car, he pushes himself to keep going, looking around as if he were searching for clues for something.

Maybe he was?

Taehyung does his best to check out both the first and second floor, not so much investigating, more so just trying to occupy his mind so he didn’t freak himself out, 

Upstairs he found a room at the far end of the hall that connected to a balcony. The room itself was nice, as nice as any abandoned house could be. The walls were a soft light yellow, intricate filigree detail, a vanity at one side and a bed at the other. 

He felt almost cozy in the room, something he hadn’t felt in any of the others. It was significantly less creepy and as his eyes roamed over every inch of the place, it felt almost familiar to him somehow. 

The door to the balcony overlooks the backyard, a roaring river cutting through it, woods at the other edge.

He watches the water rush and splash violently over the rocks and sees a small patch of dirt eroding at the bank. He’s not sure if it’s the air or the sight that makes him feel so cold. There’s a small set of stairs that lead from the balcony back down to the first level, so he takes each one cautiously and hops to ground. 

As he is about to head closer to the strange patch of dirt and grass washing away, he hears the distant roar of sirens, shaking him to his core. 

Taehyung books it back to his car, throwing his bag and flashlight in and tearing away from the sidewalk as quickly as he can. 

It doesn’t even matter that they might not have been for him, something in the pit of his stomach said something was very wrong and he wouldn’t stick around to find out.

Taehyung passes the cop car on his way out of the neighborhood, tensing up every muscle in his body. The officer doesn’t slow down or go after him, so he figures he’s in the clear. It’s not like he was doing anything super illegal anyways, right?

Tae is long gone when the officer arrives at the house. He’s been here before, right after the accident. He wasn’t happy to be called back after a neighbor called in a possible vandal. He was already in the area, though, and decided he’d humor them. 

The officer does his rounds, checks the house, the front yard, the basement.

It’s when he heads back out toward the river, the same bank catches his eye. Just to be safe, he gets closer, but the closer he gets the weirder things get.

There, at the edge of the bank, the mud washing away into the water, he sees a bone.

This just turned into a crime scene. 

—

Taehyung wants to sleep in, he deserves it after the shit he put himself through last night. There’s this nagging feeling trying to wake him though and after fighting with it for too long, he decides it’s just not worth it anymore.

Sitting up, long yawn escaping as he stretches his limbs out, his eyes catch on the remote on the sodden table in front of him. He reaches out to grab it, flicking the TV on, it opening on a random channel. 

Seems normal enough, but Tae never watches TV in the morning.

It’s when his eyes read the words ‘Missing girl’s body found’ on the ticker across the bottom of the screen, he pales, turning up the volume to hear the story. 

“News sources say the body of 22 year old Y/F/N Y/L/N, who went missing 5 years ago, has been found in the backyard of her childhood home.” 

The shot cuts to the scene unfolding behind the reporter, the house from last night as clear as day on the screen. Taehyung thinks he actually feels his heart stop beating. He’s sweating buckets, goosebumps easing across every inch of his skin. He can’t breathe. 

“You know, I really wish you had found me first dummy.” 

Taehyung jumps out of his at the presence of an unknown voice right next to him, plummeting to the ground with a loud thud. 

There you sat, on his couch, head in your hand, staring at him like he was being dramatic.

“Who the hell are you? How did you get in my house?” His questions come out as short gasps, figuring he really was in the middle of a heart attack or something. He was dying, that was the only plausible explanation.

“What, you’ve never seen a ghost before ‘Ghost Whisperer’?” Your sarcastic comments don’t phase him, he’s still too stunned about everything happening he’s not sure what to do.

“I’m going crazy, aren’t I?” He says it more to himself, but you take it as an invite to comment.

“No, you’re no crazier than you were yesterday or any other day before that.” 

He scoffs, rubbing his elbow that bashed against the edge of the coffee table when he fell, “Yes I am, obviously, since I’m seeing,” he points to you, not actually looking at you, scared of what could happen, “you, and you’re apparently a-a-“

“Ghost. Spirit. Apparition. A dead person.” He finally looks at your face and just stares for a second taking and processing the information. 

“Right,” is all he can muster.

You stand up and walk over to the TV, crouching down and staring at the scene, your body being pulled from the earth by the river. If you could feel pain or sickness, you’re sure you’d be thoroughly feeling them right now. 

You’re hand slowly comes up to the screen, finger pointing to the body bag strapped to the gurney as it’s rolled out of your yard and into an ambulance, “That’s me.” You’re telling him, but your also telling yourself.

Taehyung doesn’t know what to do. First of all, there’s a fucking ghost in his house. Second, there’s a dead body at the house he visited last night. Third, there’s a fucking ghost in his house.

Taehyung has seen crazy things before, but never a full-bodied apparition like you. What does one say to a ghost as they watch their body be found? Can you comfort a ghost? Did he want to comfort you?

In all honesty, it took everything Taehyung has in him to not piss himself he is so freaked out. 

You turn back around to face him, “Do you know why I’m here, Taehyung?” 

His eyes widen, “You know my name too? You just show up in my house like you know me?” 

You roll your eyes, walking over to him, trying not to be too offended when he scoots away. You crouch down next to him this time, “I’ve been with you for a while, actually, I just didn’t have the capacity to do this,” you gesture to your ‘body,’ “until now apparently.” 

He leans a bit closer, intrigued at your revelation, “What do you mean you’ve been with me for a while?”

Before he can move away, you shoot your hand out to rest on his shoulder. He suddenly gets that overwhelming tingling sensation again, but it’s so much stronger now. 

You pull your hand away when you see the realization on his face. 

“Wait, have you been, like, inside of me this whole time.”

Another eye roll, “No, I was not inside of you, more like floating around you, simply put.”

You both sit there in awkward silence for a few seconds, before he runs his hand through his air exasperatedly, “So what now?” 

Your eyes widen in excitement. Now you’d finally get a chance to understand why you’ve been stuck here for so long.

“You are going to help me figure out how I died.”

—

“No.”

“You have to.” You feign a pour and push his shoulder. Tae ignores you, pretends he can’t hear, feel, or see you.

It’d been two days since your abrupt appearance, and in those two days you’d sufficiently annoyed the shit out of Tae. There was no way he was getting involved in an open murder investigation.

“The cops will figure it out, go annoy one of them.” 

You step in front of him, blocking his way to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee.

“You’re the only one that can help me, I already told you that.” A huff escapes your lips when he pushes past you, your arms folding across your chest as your attention follows him.

“Nope. You’ve got the wrong guy, I’m not helping you.” 

“Why not?” Leaning across the counter, you catch him roll his eyes, making your agitation grow. 

“Because I can’t.” 

“Why?”

“Maybe someone murdered you for being so goddamn annoying,” Tae whispers to himself over his mug, but you still hear it, pushing away from the counter to approach him.

“Why are you such an asshole?” He smirks, finding it funny when you got so riled up.

“Why are you so annoying?” Oh, if you could muster up enough energy to physically slap him, you would. 

Turns out full body projecting is harder than you thought, and while you’re glad you can at least do that, you wished you could touch things again.

The only thing you can do is sigh, turning away from him, “It’s not like I had a choice of who can see me or not.” 

You’d spent years wandering alone in limbo, an in-between, roaming the earth with no guidance. You couldn’t remember anything about what happened, except for a few small things long before it.

There was no light, no pearly white gates and angels to welcome you to heaven. There was no fire and screaming like hell. You were just there, in your house, surrounded by people but no one could see or hear you. If it was possibly, watching your family live on without you would’ve killed you again. 

You’d spent years trying to find one person, just one, to acknowledge you, but you’d always come up empty. 

Then you came across Tae. It was when he spent more time out in the world, before he let the things he could see drive him to hole up in his home. You’d sensed another spirit in the area, and tried to locate it, to maybe have someone or something to talk to. 

You saw Tae, staring in the direction of the energy source, but you couldn’t see what he was looking at. He looked scared.

You approached him, forgetting he was a living being and you were not. It was when you lay your hand on his shoulder to comfort him, and he reacted, you’d realized you’d found the one person who could feel you. 

You’d stuck around ever since, and as your energy grew (you may or may not have been borrowing some of Tae’s), you influenced him more and more until he’d decide to go to your home. 

Since you had no memory of how you died, you figured that’d be a good place to start looking for answers on how to pass on. 

Taehyung was the only tether you had to the living world, whether you both liked it or not. You’d spent too long wandering around and you were done. You wanted answers, you wanted to be at peace. 

You let yourself dissipate into the air, figuring it was more trouble than it was worth to use up your energy on fighting with him. You just needed some time to yourself, and figured so did he. 

When he watches your figure disappear, he can’t help the guilty feeling crawling up his throat as the coffee slides down. It was just all so much to take in right now and with the investigation, a murderer on the loose, and you, he felt overwhelmed. 

He knows it’s just as hard on you, though, too, and wishes he’d been more sensitive. 

Taehyung was always good at saying the wrong things. 

—

After his comment, you’d been more distant lately, and whether he liked to admit it or not, he kinda liked having you around, even though you were annoying as hell. 

Taehyung has been on his own for so long, he had forgotten what it was like to have a friend, and while you were dead, he thought a ghost friend was better than no friends. 

So, even though he didn’t like nor know what he was doing, he decided he’d at least look into what happened 5 years ago.

Flashback

“Yes, I’m fine, I’ll be home in, like, 10 minutes.” You hang up on your mom, knowing that she’ll probably reprimand you once she sees you, but you were too excited to care. 

You’d stayed after school to help the Art Club decorate for their Halloween fundraiser this weekend, and the President asked you if you’d like to dress up and work the haunted house with him. 

Kim Namjoon is many things, but forward was not one of them. You cool accepted, even though you were jumping up and down on the inside. The Kim Namjoon was asking you to hang out Saturday night. It was like a dream come true. 

Your walk home was filled with going over all the different ways the night could play out, your lovesick mind always ending it with you both kissing and living happily ever after. Cliche, but you couldn’t help it. 

As you rounded the corner to your block, you felt uneasy, like you were being watched. Calmly looking over your shoulder, you sand your surroundings for eyes. The street was pretty empty, though, save a few parked cars and the rare one heading down the road. 

You shake your head, waving away any paranoia and keep going.

What you didn’t see was the familiar red car parked down the road from your house, it’s occupant’s eyes following your every move.

That night, after a lighthearted scolding from your mother, you help her wash the dishes from dinner, your dad placing a kiss to the tops of your heads before retiring to his office for the night. He worked a lot, but you couldn’t hold it against him, he was a good dad.

Bidding your mother Goodnight, you retire to your room to wash up and start the pile of homework that had grown on your desk.

As you tackle what you can with your fluffy pajamas giving you strength, you get that weird sensation of being watched again. You turn your head to stare out the door to your balcony into the backyard. 

Nothing. 

Creeped out and tired as hell, you draw your curtain, turn the light off, and go to sleep. 

Saturday came quicker than you could hope, the excitement over your costume and your date/not date with Namjoon skyrocketing your mood. 

Joon had met you in the hallway before school let out on Friday to ask you if it was alright if he picked you up, to which you quickly said yes. He told you what his costume was earlier that week, but when he’d asked about yours, you said it was a surprise. 

You kept it classy but cute and chose something that you knew and Namjoon would appreciate. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he showed up at your door. 

You walked home again that evening, the feeling of being watched lingering through the whole walk. You were bothered, but you didn’t want anything to spoil your mood. 

In retrospect, you should’ve said something. 

The last thing you remember is going to a haunted house with Joon, something happening, and walking home.

Then, nothing.

End Flashback

Tae’s research into the known details of your disappearance came up short. The only thing he could gather was that you were on your way home from a school event but never showed up. 

The police told your parents that at your age, it was normal for kids to just disappear for a few days. 

After 3 days, they started a missing persons search. 

Weeks of looking came up with nothing. 

The investigation started out as possible foul play, but after some evidence was unearthed, it turned into a runaway. 

No criminal evidence found, no new details or leads, and the case quickly went cold. 

To the town, you were just another teen runaway.

Your parents fought hard for justice, knowing there was no way you’d run away, but the more time passed, the more tired they got. Funds dried up, people made horrible clamping about you and your family, and they didn’t know how to fight anymore.

They lost their only daughter and no one seemed to care.

In the end, they sold the house and moved as far away as they could. 

The hope that they’d find their daughter alive diminished until it no longer existed.

Taehyung felt a sorrow he’d never known before. How could something like this happen to anyone?

From his point of view, it looked like the only ones who took it seriously were your parents. 

How could the authorities brush away someone’s life like that?

You’d been with Tae for so long, you could tell the changes of his emotions, and a pang of sadness shot through you that felt familiar. 

Despite still being mad at him, you appeared behind him, looking over his shoulder at the screen of the laptop to see article after article about your disappearance. Then, focusing on Tae, you the smallest tear slide from the corner of his eye. 

Your arms reach out to wrap around him, phasing right through him but he can feel your presence. 

Eyes squeezed tight, you wished you could feel him, not just to comfort him, but to feel comfort yourself. All you could do, though, was try.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk.” Tae doesn’t turn from the screen to address you, he just closes his eyes, focusing on the static feeling from your ‘touch.’ 

“I’m sorry I was annoying.” He cracked a pathetic grin, finally turning when you had pulled away.

He sticks his hand out, offering it to you to shake. You look  at him confused, knowing you can’t grab it, but he just waves it up and down until you stick your hand out and put it near his. 

You imitate a shake and a giggle escapes your lips, “What was that all about?”

“I’m going to help you find the truth.” Your eyes shoot open, locking on his. There is no hint of sarcasm, just pure determination.

Taehyung was going to help you find peace if it was the last thing he did. 

It was what you deserved, what your parents deserved, and he wasn’t going to let anyone brush you aside again. 

—

“Are you sure this guy can help, Tae?” You whisper, trailing behind him as he heads deeper into the building. 

Taehyung, before his affliction took over, had actually had friends of his own before. One, a few years older, had become a detective a few years back, at least, that’s what he’d heard.

Yoongi was a serious guy, and he had a passion for finding justice, and Tae knew he was just the man to aid them on their investigation.

Taehyung was realistic. He knew there was no way he’d be given access to the new evidence or the open murder investigation. 

He needed someone on the inside, someone who knew the game and how to play, but could still be trusted.

So, he emailed Yoongi, very vague just in case, and he’d offered to meet Tae today in the old warehouse they all used to hang out in when they were teens. 

Here you were, standing exactly where Yoongi had agreed upon, when Tae hears footsteps.

Yoongi approaches carefully, seeing his old friend right where he told him to be. 

He wasn’t going to lie, he had absolutely no idea what Taehyung could possibly call him out here for, and his email didn’t help. 

Having not seen him in years, Yoongi goes in for a simple handshake, but Tae goes straight for a hug. He missed his hyung, more than he’d thought once he actually saw him. 

Yoongi wasn’t ever one for physical contact, even when they were younger, but he knew there must be an important reason for meeting, so he let the kid hug him.

“Thank you for meeting me Yoongi, sorry I haven’t kept in contact these past few years.” Tae feels guilty for shutting his friends out, but he didn’t know what else to do, they’d never understand.

Now, he needed at least Yoongi to.

“It’s okay, we all got busy. So, why are we here?” Yoongi wanted to get down to business, he didn’t like idle chit chat. 

“Right. This is going to sound crazy, but I need your help solving a murder.” 

He’s surprised to say the least. At first, his mind jumps to Taehyung being involved in something serious, but he knows his friend well enough to know he’d never commit murder.

“Why are you investigating a murder?”

Tae rubs the back of his neck, growing more uncomfortable by the second.

“I’m just going to be honest with you. Don’t laugh, and please, hear me out.” 

Tae waits for the elder to oblige before beginning.

Once he goes through all the nitty-gritty details, he can tell by the look on Yoongi’s face that he doesn’t believe him. Tae looks from Yoongi to you, then back again, and wonders how the hell he’s supposed to prove himself.

“Taehyung, it’s not funny to waste people’s time.” Yoongi turns to leave, and Taehyung starts panicking. Yoongi was his only lead, as if this didn’t work out, he wasn’t sure what else he could do. 

You can tell the situation is turning sour, so you figure the best way to prove Tae is telling the truth, is to prove you’re there.

You search your surroundings quickly, finding a piece of pipe on the ground. You grab it, mustering up all the energy you possibly can until you actually feel it in your hands. 

You push away the excitement and focus on moving it. Slowly, you drag it over until you’re blocking Yoongi’s exit. 

He stands there, staring at the seemingly floating pipe, and is wondering if he’s lost his mind.

You take the opportunity to write your name in the dirt as bets you can. You’re growing weaker, but you finish it and the pipe drops to the ground.

Tae watches your form dissipate into the air again, afraid you’d disappeared, but he feels your presence at his shoulder again, so he relaxes. 

Yoongi, on the other hand, is staring at the dirt, frozen, mouth gaped wide, and pale as a ghost. 

“Believe me now?” 

Yoongi followed Tae back to his house and they start their dive into the case.

—

Yoongi is able to get his hands on some of your files, both new and old, and the two of them start a board to piece the puzzle together. 

The only problem, they have no idea where to even begin.

You go over the events you remember with Tae as best you can, Tae filling in Yoongi and then adding new information to the board. 

You stare at it, your picture idly in the center, pictures of everyone you knew around you, as well as crime scene photos, news clippings; everything.

The longer you stared at it, the more frustrated you got. Yoongi and Tae’s leads kept coming up empty and they were no closer than when they first began.

“Are you sure she’s telling us everything?” Yoongi questions Tae, and you scoff, even though he can’t hear it. Tae looks at you with a smile, before turning back to Yoongi and nodding.

“Apparently.” Tae, even though he was finally helping you, didn’t lose his joy in antagonizing you, but you had your own fun so it was only fair. 

You’d hide his things, or phase through him because he said once it felt weird, so you’d do it just to annoy him. Annoying Tae became your new favorite thing.

“Didn’t she say she felt like she was being watched when she was walking home?” Yoongi turns from his puzzled stance towards the board to where Tae was staring, figuring it was you.

You nod, and Tae relays it to him.

“How long had she had that feeling?” 

You had to think about it. So many years had gone by, it was harder and harder for you to recall memories from your past. Bringing up so much at once, now, though, was helping them resurface.

You remember the feeling starting around 4 months before the incident. You’d been to a party one night when the cops showed up to send everyone home. It was when you were escorted to one of the cars that you first felt it.

After that, it’d only gotten worse, but you weren’t sure how to bring it up to your parents, or if you even should. It wasn’t like you could prove it, it was just a feeling. 

The harder you thought, the more memories flooded. 

You tried to picture every instance in your mind as it happened. The party, after practice, the dance, fall festival, these were all the times you could remember it happening. 

After the first month, it started happening when you were at home. You could see yourself in the moment clearly, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find any connection. 

After Tae relayed all of this to Yoongi, he just stood there staring at the board for a while. Tae grew tired quickly, leaving the room to make some coffee, and you followed.

“I’m sorry I’m not much help,” you admit, face turning down in a frown. You hated that you couldn’t remember that night or what had happened to you. It wasn’t fair.

Tae turns to you quickly, sympathetic smile on his lips, “It's not your fault, we’ll figure this out, I promise.” He holds his pinky out to you, causing you to smile, bringing yours up to lay next to his. 

It was simple gestures like this between the two of you that made you almost feel like you were alive again. 

Tae is about to say something when Yoongi shouts for him to come quick. You both sprint into the living room, seeing Yoongi circling something in every crime scene photo frantically. 

“What do you see in all of these photos?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer. Tae takes a closer look, you just behind him peeking around his shoulder. You see the faint image of the same man in every single picture.

He’s not close enough to quite make out, but he’s definitely in every single one. It’s eerie, the man standing just outside the frame, staring at the scene. It sends shivers through you, well, as much a shiver as an entity can feel.

“There’s the same guy in every picture!” They both exclaim together, clapping hands together in the air. Yoongi and Tae finally had a lead. 

Tae turns to you, “Do you recognize him?” You stare at one as hard as you can, but the image is too fuzzy for you to know for sure. 

“I don’t know,” is all you can offer. Tae looks a bit disappointed, but it doesn’t last long, Yoongi offering, “We can get these enhanced so she can have a better look.”

With that, they call it a night, well, you call it a night, while the boys continue, too excited to stop any time soon. 

Yoongi decides it’d be better to stay with Tae until they can figure this out.

—

A knock on Tae’s door at 5 a.m. has everyone in the house scrambling.

Yoongi is the first to get presentable, opening the door to two local officers.

“What can I help you with officers?” He says, gritting his teeth. Local cops were a bane in Yoongi’s existence. Nothing against the position, he’d had to go through it himself, but nowadays, he remembers just how incompetent and cocky they can be.

“Is Kim Taehyung here? We’d like to ask him a few questions about his whereabouts the night of October 19th.” Yoongi is about to ask them why the hell that was necessary when Tae comes up behind him.

“I’m Kim Taehyung,” he says, trying to sound confident but failing miserably. When they brought up the night he’d visited your house, he knew things were about to go down.

“Were you at this address that night?” One officer shows the address along with a picture of the house to Tae, to which he shakes his head.

  “I drove through the neighborhood to go see a friend, but that’s it.” 

Tae didn’t want to lie, but something in his gut told him the truth would end a lot worse. 

The officers look from each other back to him.

“We have a witness account identifying you at the house that night, sir.” Tae thinks he’s done for, but Yoongi comes in with a quick save. 

Luckily, Tae had brought Yoongi up to speed on everything, so he knew he could set the perfect alibi. 

The officers don’t look too convinced, but they leave. Yoongi shuts the door and Tae releases the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in.

“That one officer looked familiar.” You say, popping up behind Tae, causing him to jump. He swears one day you will actually kill him.

“Which one?” Yoongi questions, walking into the living room, the both of you following suit. 

“The taller one with the dark hair and mustache. I’ve seen him before.” 

Yoongi takes this information from Tae and scours the board. His finger shoots out to one of the photographs.

“That’s him,” he says and then gestures to the figure next to him. It clicks in everyone’s mind that the man next to the officer is the same man in the rest of the pictures. 

“You don’t think...” Tae starts, everyone taking glances at each other in silence. 

“We might have just found a rat.” 

—

“You can’t just bring him in without reason!” Yoongi yells as the officer escorts Tae out of the building and into the car.

He ignores Yoongi, taking Tae away.

Yoongi follows pursuit in his own vehicle. 

After a few hours of interrogation, Tae exits the police station, finding a furious Yoongi in the lobby.

“What the hell did they want?” Yoongi shouts, storming after Tae. Tae just gets into Yoongi’s car and slams the door. 

It’s not until they get home that Tae shares.

“That cop from the photo, he tried to get me to confess to being at the house that night.” 

Yoongi runs his hands through his hair, clearly exasperated, while you watch on in silence.

“Did you tell them anything?” 

Tae scoffs, “Of course not!”

The room goes quiet, tension thick in the air. 

Yoongi is worried their investigation is blown.

Tae is worried your murderer will get away.

You’re worried for your new friends’ well-being.

“Let’s just stop.” You say, eyes trained on the floor below. Tae shoots up from his place on the couch, looking at you in disbelief.

“No way, we’re so close, I can feel it.” He says, approaching you.

You look up at him, lips curling down, “I don’t want anything bad happening to you.” 

Tae isn’t sure what to say. He’s too invested in this to let it go over a little scare with the police. This was bigger than all of you knew, and he couldn’t let your chance at peace slip away over him.

“I did learn something new though.” Tae turns away from you to address Yoongi, ignoring your wishes for him to stop.

“I saw that cop talking with a guy that looked just like the photo guy when I was leaving. They were whispering and looking around all suspicious.” 

All of a sudden their off on theory tangents and you’re too exhausted from worrying about Tae to stick around.

Yoongi is finally able to enhance one of the photos a day later, enough to get a clear look at the mystery man. 

When you finally look at his face, it’s like opening Pandora’s box. 

That night, after the haunted house, Namjoon offered to drive you home, but an emergency came up. 

You told him it was no problem and instead of calling one of your parents, you decided to walk home. 

You enter the part of town that had few houses with far stretches of woods in-between. You were spooked, but there was nothing to do about it, so you kept going.

A red car pulls up next to you, a familiar face, the officer, through the window offering you a ride. 

You accept even though your whole being is saying that something isn’t right.

There’s someone else in the car you didn’t notice before. 

He never takes you home.

You’re standing there, shaking, eyes wide in fear and Tae can sense the overwhelming terror coursing from you.

“Are you okay?” Tae asks, concern taking over his body.

“He offered to drive me home...Tae.. he never took me home.” You sob, falling to the ground. Tae goes to comfort you but remembers he can’t. He can’t touch you. He can’t hold you as you fall apart. He can just watch.

Yoongi is standing there, utterly confused, but when he sees his friend drop to the ground, he stops what he's doing.

Tae stares at you, hurt evident on his face, guilty he can’t help you, and then looks up at at Yoongi. 

A tear slips out of one of his eyes, but it’s not from sadness, it’s from anger. 

“Those bastards are gonna pay.”

When you finally remembered, your energy had completely depleted. Tae couldn’t see or feel you and he was growing more worried by the second. He didn’t let that stop him from helping Yoongi go back to the house to search for evidence. 

When they pull up, they see a car parked outside.

Your killer is here.

Tae tries to rush at him, fury telling him to beat the living shit out of him. Yoongi holds him back, keeping him in the car until the man leaves. He manages to snap a few pictures for evidence, and reminds Tae that if he does anything stupid, it’ll ruin everything.

After a few minutes pass, another car pulls up. This time, your parents step out of the vehicle, staring at the house they once called home. They look tired, like they haven’t slept in days.

He bets they never thought they’d be back here, let alone to bury their daughter. 

They wait till they leave, finally leaving the vehicle to search.

Coming up with nothing, Yoongi offers to go back to his office and try the resources there.

Weeks go by, the local authorities slowly leaning towards another cold case. Yoongi and Tae, however, are hot on the trail.

Yoongi was able to use his clearance to look at the evidence the police filed away. There, he was able to draw connections to you and the man. Multiple witness statements had been disregarded when it came to a familiar looking man seen around your school and on your path home. 

The evidence was quickly piling up, and it was firing up the boys. 

The match to set the whole thing ablaze? Tae found a connection between you, the man, and the cop you recognized. 

Turns out your father had filed a complaint against the town for the man showing up in your backyard one day. The cop to address it? The same one. The suspect is the cop’s younger brother who has a history of stalking underage girls.

Yoongi was right in his opinion on local cops, the bastard was covering it all up, probably even helped him.

Going to his superiors, Yoongi was able to get jurisdiction over your case. 

The greatest day in Taehyung’s life was watching the two men get taken away in handcuffs.

Your parents invited both Taehyung and Yoongi to your service, and you gave Tae the okay to go. 

He stood with you at your casket, closed considering the amount of time and decay your body had gone through. 

He cried that day, more than he ever had before. Not just because he was burying a friend he never truly got to meet, but because you finally got the justice you deserved. 

Tae throws his tie on the couch when he get home, entering the living room, plopping down to rest against the back of it. 

You just stand before him, watching him breath, his eyes closed.

You walk forward, leaning close. 

As Tae opens his eyes, he sees your figure close, and then feels the sensation of lips on his forehead.

You poured all of your strength into this final goodbye. You could feel the warmth of his skin as your lips pressed to his forehead, leaning away to see him staring in shock.

He reaches out to grab your hand as you back away. His fingers graze yours, and you both feel the sensation of physical contact. 

“Thank you Tae, for everything.” 

You finally passed on. 

He cried for the second time that day.

—

Years later, Taehyung is back in town. It’s the anniversary of your death, and he wanted to visit. His right hand is wrapped tight around one much smaller than his, his left arm holding another tiny figure close. 

He knows the path to your stone by heart. When they approach, he stops just before it, staring at the words. He lingers over your name and smiles. 

“Daddy, where are we?” The little one lets go of his hand and instead holds the small bouquet of flowers close to him.

Taehyung looks down at the little boy and smiles, patting his head.

“I want to introduce you to my old friend.” He says, gesturing forward, the little boy taking the bouquet and setting it down by your stone. 

He sets the youngest at his feet, dropping to sit down in front of your headstone, gathering his children in his lap. 

“Do you want to hear the story about how I met my best friend?”

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

This. Is.  a rollercoaster of emotions my guys. I’m sorry I had to do it to you, but I did. Honestly, I’m overly proud of this one, like, it may be my favorite. It is my favorite. Hope you guys enjoy a little cry fest over Tae, I know I did. Also, a birthday shout out to @arxsu, I hope you like it! Our little Kookie gets Halloween, so get excited. Stay Spooky!💜

-Moonie🌙

7 Days of Halloween: Day 6 Update

TaeTae’s story is published, prepare to bawl your eyes out. Our little golden maknae is saved for Halloween, I hope everyone enjoys their holiday and has a good fright! Stay Spooky!💜

Gif not mine

7 Days of Halloween: Final Update

With Kookie’s story, we officially bring 7 Days of Halloween to a close. This was the most fun I’ve had writing in a long time, and I’m glad I got to share it all with you guys. I want to thank every single one of you for the love and support you’ve shown for the fics, I greatly appreciate it, more than you could ever know. I hope everyone had a great time and I hope I did all of your bias’ justice. Though I’m sad to see it end, I’m thinking I might do this again before the year is up (🎄), but maybe with a different group (*cough*Day6*cough)👀 And for one last time, Stay Spooky everyone💜

Gif not mine

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...

_________________________________________________________________

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🌙

WANTED || J.JK || 4

PROBLEMS

Pairing : Jungkook X Reader

Genre : fluff, angst, crack

Summary : “Let me geuss, your parents are dead and you're family with one of my mates so that's why you're staying with us for a while?”

“Um, no. Sorry. Just running for the authorities and your window was open.”

Wordcount: 0.7k

WARNINGS : This chap has some graphic stuff innit. If u don't like blood, skip this one

WANTED MASTERLIST || NEXT 

" So, why don't you tell me. What did you do that made the authorities go after you?" Jungkook asks you for the sixth time as he pokes you on your way home.

The two of you decided to take a walk outside at one AM out of boredom and are now on your way back home.

" How many times do I have to tell you that-"

" Heey L/N, long time no see girl." Your sentence is cut off by a guy who Jungkook doesn't recognize.

You sigh and roll your eyes.

" Yeah I know Hyunjin, let's keep it that way." You say as you wave your hand at him, not stopping with walking.

At least, you don't stop walking, until you're pulled back by your hood.

When Jungkook turns around, it's not only Hyunjin behind you, but also two other guys, one of which is who's holding you by your hood.

Jungkook feels anger rise up whitin himself with how the guys look at you. They're ignoring Jungkook as if he's not there.

" Ah, come on Y/N, we're friends right? And friends help one another. I need your help tonight, my friends here have the same problem so we'd all like your help." Hyunjin says with an ugly smirk.

Jungkook looks confused onto what's happening, some kind of 'error' running in his system on what to do. Is it alright if he punches them or not?

" Only plastic surgery can help you and your friends with your problem Hyunjin." You grin right back at Hyunjin, and Jungkook is surprised by your reaction.

Wasn't this the part of the story where the girl would cry for help and some handsome guy who's coincidentally rich and laid back would show up to save you?

Hyunjin and his friends found you a little less funny.

" Listen whore, you will come with us-"

Jungkook took that this was a good moment to punch Hyunjin in the face.

Who stumbles back upon the contact, but doesn't fall.

" Leave us alone." Jungkook tells him with an intensity in his eyes which almost makes Hyunjin cry.

" Why? What will you do?" Hyunjin smirks back.

Jungkook throws another fist in his face while you headbutt the guy behind you, which makes him lose his hold on you as he grabs his nose instead.

Jungkook looks at you for one moment, but that moment is one too much as Hyunjin throws him a punch on his jaw.

Jungkook too stumbles back, and although none of you know, Hyunjin's hand throbs from pain, not being used to hand to hand combat.

You check up on Jungkook too to see what's going on, but you're sharper than he is, as soon as one of the guys in front of you throw a punch when they think you haven't got your attention on them, you avoid their hit and throw an elbow in their spine.

Jungkook is sure that he hears the guy's back crack, and not in the way you crack one of your fingers.

Jungkook throws an elbow at Hyunjin, but he too avoids him and then suddenly grabs to his pocket, where Jungkook can see something silvery and glimmering in the moonlight.

He doesn't realize what it is until it's too late, and then you're suddenly in front of him with your back facing Hyunjin, your smaller form shielding Jungkook's form enough to take the blow.

As soon as the knife enters your side, you hold onto the back of Jungkook's shirt. For people who would walk by, it would probably look like you're giving him a hug, minus the part where there's blood running down from your side.

The scariest moment in Jungkook's eyes is that you barely react. You only flinch before freezing, no sound leaving your mouth while you get stabbed.

And then you fall unconscious.

Hyunjin must've realised that he hit the wrong person, because as soon as you collapse he screams something to his friends, and then they run away.

Jungkook looks shocked at your body on the ground and doesn't waste a second before he takes you into his arms as if you've just gotten married and proceeds to run the rest of the way home.

He doesn't give a tough about the blood which seeps from your side into his white shirt, creating stains which will most probably not be out washable.

You're way more important for him.