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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🌙

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

Sweet Serendipity (Jimin x Faerie!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language, brief mention of assault (very brief), POV switching

Word Count: 6K

“I swear to God,” Jimin mumbles to himself, grabbing the giant textbook Namjoon had left when he spent the night and smacks it repeatedly against the wall, “if they don’t shut up, I’m going to kill someone.” 

This wasn’t the first time he had thrown empty threats into the air when his neighbors got too rowdy. In fact, this was a normal occurrence for him. 

Neighbors start being assholes, Jimin finds anything he can to beat the shit out of his walls with in hopes they’ll get the message, surprise-surprise, they don’t, and the cycle starts all over again. 

Oh, how he wished he hadn’t signed a long-ass lease so he could just move away and forget those idiots ever existed, but fate had other plans for him, plans that included him being miserable for the next year with no way out of it. 

Huffing back to the couch, the incessant noise plaguing his every sense, Jimin pulls out his phone and brings up a text conversation. 

Me

      -Kook, you busy? Assholes next door are at it again, could really use a break.

He sends the text and tucks his phone back into his pocket, opting to plug his headphones in and turn the volume on his laptop up so loud, either he won’t be able to hear them over the movie, or he’ll blow his eardrums. At this point, it’s a win-win. 

A few hours pass, his movie long forgotten, and Jimin may or may not be trying to smother himself with a pillow as he lays sprawled across his bed. He checks his phone for the 10th time in the last hour, and decides Jungkook is definitely not getting back to him, and he’ll have to suffer alone. 

As if it’s not bad enough he has to deal with mind-numbing noise all day every day, but add on his best friend never. fucking. answering him? What did he ever do to deserve this? And what if it was an emergency, and Jungkook was the only thing between life and death for Jimin? Well, he hopes it never comes down to that, because he honestly has little-to-no faith left in the kid.

Day slowly fades to night and Jimin thinks he’s actually, truly going insane. He wants more than anything to find the courage to march next door, slam the door open, and tell them to shut the fuck up.

He would not find it today, though, and goes through his normal night routine before putting his headphones on as he crawls into bed. Soft melodies drown out the noise as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion. 

Maybe tomorrow would be a new day.

—

Jimin was still waiting for that ‘new day’ a week later. The past few days had been so bad he’d decided to hang out with Namjoon in his dorm, which he never did. Another thing on his list of hates: Joon’s dorm. It was loud, but not as loud as his apartment complex, so he was thankful for that. The worst part about it was Joon’s annoying roommate. 

He’d tried to get a single, but was put in a double last minute, no chance to pick a roommate. So, he was stuck with some annoying ass guy who left his shit all over the room and constantly had people coming in and out. 

Namjoon usually escaped to Jimin’s place when he couldn’t take it anymore, but at this point, it was a double ended blade. 

So, they would suffer together in the lesser of the two evils. 

“I wish we could just get a place together. Then we wouldn’t have to deal with all these idiots.” Jimin ends his rant with a loud huff, even though he knew there was no use. Rent anywhere close to campus was way too expensive for both of their budgets, and then there was the whole lease thing still looming over Jimin’s head like a freaking noose. 

Namjoon gives his friend a small sympathetic smile before turning back to his textbook. 

Midterms were coming fast and he wanted to be 100% prepped and ready. He wouldn’t tell Jimin that he really needed to study and that they could hang another time. Just by looking at him, Joon could tell he was at his wits end. 

“Why don’t you go down to the manager and complain again?” Namjoon knows he’s just grasping straws here, but he had to try something. 

He didn’t like seeing Jimin slinking around all sad and wallowing. He missed the upbeat, bright spark that made his friend the spitfire he truly is. That complex was trying to snuff him out, but Namjoon wouldn’t have it.

“I’ve filed multiple complaints and they don’t do shit.” Jimin crosses his arms, growing more infuriated at the situation by the second.

“Maybe this time will be different?” Jimin just rolls his eyes and grabs his stuff.

“If you wanted me to leave, you could’ve just said so.” He doesn’t wait for Namjoon to react, slamming the door behind him and heading home. Ha, ‘home.’ 

That place would never be a home to Jimin.

Despite his reluctance at putting any more faith in the poor management of his complex, he figures it can’t hurt to stop in and let them know the noise hasn’t stopped. 

“We are aware. We are looking into it.” 

That was it, that was always it. He couldn’t even bother being angry, it just wasn’t worth it anymore. Instead of taking the elevator, he opts for the stairs to give himself time to mentally prepare. 

By the time he gets to his floor, he’s a little out of breath, but in the distance he can hear the noise already wafting through the halls. It sucks every remaining drop of energy from his body, and he all but drags himself to his door, cringing at how loud the noise is when right next to it. 

After locking the door and abandoning his stuff on the floor he throws himself onto his bed, covers his head with a pillow and falls asleep.

His dreams are filled with glorious images of moving out, living in a peaceful place, and never having to see or hear his neighbors ever again. 

—

Jimin decides the next few weeks are a good time to pull a Jungkook and ghost everyone. 

He doesn’t answer Namjoon when he texts and asks him if he’s alright.

He doesn’t answer Hoseok’s calls about dance class.

He doesn’t even answer the door when Jungkook finally does show up. 

“Come on Chim, I just want to make sure you’re still alive.” Kook raps on the door a few more times, pressing his ear to the wood when he hears footsteps. 

“Like you care, I could’ve been dead for days and you wouldn’t have noticed.” Jimin doesn’t open the door, instead yells through the wall while he makes himself a cup of coffee. 

 Staying in bed every day was actually making him more tired than being up, which he didn’t think was possible.

Kook just laughs, twisting the locked handle a few times, “Chim, I’m sorry, just let me innnnnnn.” He drags it out in hopes Jimin will get annoyed and open the door. 

It doesn’t happen though, Jimin just goes back to his bed, cuddling up in the blankets before yelling back, “Nope, go find someone else to bother.” 

At least now Jungkook could let the others know Jimin is indeed still alive, just throwing himself a pity party. Jimin can be dramatic sometimes, so it’s not really a surprise when he pulls out the theatrics. 

“Alright, I’ll leave you to your misery.” Kook is disappointed his friend doesn’t want his help right now, but he knows that sometimes Jimin just needs to be alone for a while to get over things.

After Jungkook leaves, Jimin decides he can at least text everyone that he is in fact alive so they won’t show up at his door again. Once it’s sent, he unpauses the movie he was watching and continues his wallow fest. 

It’s the next day when he notices that there hasn’t been a noise, not even a peep from his neighbors. 

He’s getting dressed after a long shower, heading into the kitchen to grab some breakfast before he forces himself to go see the boys, when he realizes, ‘I haven’t heard anything from next door this whole week.’

It’s enough to sufficiently freak him out and question his sanity. They have been loud as hell since Jimin moved in, no quiet since then, so what the hell was going on?

Deciding to skip breakfast, he grabs his keys and jacket, heading out the door when he takes a quick glance at the next door over. It looked exactly the same, the only change being a cute little doormat at the door. 

While it was a little odd, considering he’s pretty sure there are a bunch of guys living next door, and that doormat screams ‘girl,’ it’s not enough to make him think anything drastic has happened. 

‘Maybe one of them got a girlfriend,’ he thinks to himself, even though he’s not sure how that could be possible with how awful they are. 

Jimin doesn’t want to waste any more time thinking about his neighbors, heading to the elevator and out to meet the guys to hang for the day.

“Ah, the Great Park Jimin, he lives!” Jin yells, causing Yoongi and Namjoon to shake their heads in embarrassment as the other three whoop and holler like it was Jimin’s homecoming. 

Needless to say, it was nice to be around his favorite people after walling himself away for over a week. 

He needed to let himself let loose and have some fun or he was sure he was going to actually lose it. 

They ended up spending the whole day just walking around, doing a little shopping, and enjoying each others company. The boys are a family, so they couldn’t go very long without getting together. 

They all part ways a block away from Jimin’s building, Jungkook heading with Jimin after promising to spend the night if Jimin helps him beat a new level in one of his favorite video games. 

The walk back is full of laughs and the two of them play fighting each other, until they see one of Jimin’s neighbors in a moving truck parked outside the building. Jimin nudges Jungkook, pointing at the truck and Kook just watches on, confused.

Another one of his neighbors exits the building with a box, hefting it into the back of the truck and promptly hops in the passenger side, the truck taking off.

“Did I just see that right?” Jimin asks out loud, to no one particular, maybe Kook or maybe the universe. They climb the steps and enter the lobby, Jimin quickly heading over to the front desk to ask about the situation.

“Yeah, they’ve been in the process of leaving for a few weeks now, finally got the rest of their stuff out today.”

“That’s amazing-“ Jimin didn’t mean to sound as excited as he was at the neighbors leaving, but he couldn’t help himself.

“There’s already a new tenant, she moved her stuff in fast.”

Jimin’s ears started to turn red at the tips; he’d never lived next door to a girl before. 

“A girl?” Jungkook butts into the conversation all too excitedly, causing the woman at the desk to roll her eyes.

“She’s kind of weird though,” the woman mutters to herself, loud enough for the boys to hear her.

Jimin doesn’t care if she’s weird, at least his awful neighbors were finally gone and he’d have some peace and quiet. Jungkook doesn’t care if she’s weird, because it’s a girl; his best friend lives next to a girl.

Jimin has to hold Kook by his collar, almost like he was on a leash, just to reign him in and stop him from running up to your door.

Jimin unlocks his own door, shoving Jungkook inside before pausing in the doorway to glance over to the door next to him. 

A girl, huh?

That night, Jungkook gets bored after wasting an hour trying to hear anything from your side of the wall and settles on getting his game on. Jimin makes them some popcorn for the long quest ahead, but finds himself drawn out onto the terrace before he sits down to join Kook. 

As he slides open the door, he looks over to your terrace to see a flash of hair as your door promptly shuts, curtains drawing to hide you from the world.

Jimin just stares at your door, watching the curtain sway back and forth, hoping that maybe you’d come back out and he’d get to see you. 

After a few minutes, Jungkook is yelling at him to get his butt inside and help him beat some boss, and Jimin can’t help but let his curiosity grow as he wonders what the girl next door is like. 

—

Jimin is the first to wake up the next morning, promptly shoving Jungkook away from, even though he’s pretty sure he told him to sleep on the couch. Rubbing his eyes, he makes his way out to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of juice when he notices the corner of a paper sticking out from under his door. 

The closer he gets, he smells the scent of freshly baked goods floating from the hallway. As he opens the door, he looks down to see a little basket with a pink napkin over the top.

Jimin’s never gotten anything at his door before, so he’s rightfully confused, looking up and down the hallway for a sign of who might’ve left this for him.

Kneeling down to look in the basket, he moves the napkin to find a few little sweet buns, each with their own little decoration.

They’re cute and they smell absolutely delicious, but he’s paranoid that he doesn’t know who left them. It’s when he picks the basket up he notices the paper sat underneath it. 

It’s a small note, ‘From your new neighbor.’ You even signed it with a little heart, but no name.

Jimin looks from the note to your door, no sign of life from behind it and decides it would be rude to leave them out in the hall. 

He sets the basket down on the counter, fishing around one of the kitchen drawers until he finds a pen and a pad of sticky notes.

‘Thank you for the treats. -Jimin’ It was short and simple, just to let you know he appreciated it. Returning to the hall, he sticks the note to your door, letting his fingers linger on the wood before he turns back to his own place.

Jungkook could apparently smell them from Jimin’s room, walking out wide-eyed as he surveyed the basket.

“You have a secret admirer or something I don’t know about Chim?” Jimin can feel his cheeks heat up the slightest at Kook’s comment, but brushes it off.

“Just a gift from the new neighbor.” As soon as he hears ‘neighbor’, Jungkook starts making faces at Jimin, teasing him that they’d meet and fall in love and all that romantic mushy crap.

Jimin just promptly shoves one of the buns in Kooks face, to which he happily takes in his mouth. 

The best way to get Jungkook to shut up? Give him food.

A few hours go by and Jungkook decides he’s gonna head home, so Jimin walks him out, mostly to be a good friend, but also to check your door and see if you had gotten his note. 

When he comes back up from the lobby, the note is gone and a new one lies on his door.

‘You’re welcome, I hope you liked them,’ scrawled neatly across the pink stationary, a little bee and heart in the corner. It was so cute, everything regarding you so far was cute. Your door mat, your baked goods, your handwriting, Jimin could only wonder how cute you were. 

He again grabs his paper and writes another note, sticking it to your door in the same place. 

As he touches the paper to the door, he hears shuffling in your apartment. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to stick his ear up to the door to listen for you. Instead he waits to make sure you won’t come out while he’s standing there like a weirdo, and then turns back to his apartment, escaping inside. 

Jimin hears your door open and close, a part of him kicking himself for not staying to see you in person. He just had a feeling, though, that you’d meet face to face when the moment was right, and this wasn’t it. So, he’d push away the nagging thoughts and opt for some quiet time in front of the TV for a while instead. 

The hope that he’d get to see your face someday soon was enough to keep him awake almost all night. 

—

‘Why were you screaming at your TV?’ Was all the note said, besides a little laughing emoji in the bottom corner. Jimin just chuckles a bit to himself before grabbing another note from his door to write you a new one.

‘Because, the characters in my show are the worst!’ Up it goes in the same place, just like the many that came before.

It’d been a few weeks since the note passing had started, and you and Jimin were closer than every, well, in theory. 

It started with little gifts you’d leave in front of each others doors, along with little notes. Then it was a note every day, sometimes even multiple a day. The more notes shared between the two of you, the bolder you were getting. 

You’d play your music a little louder after Jimin praised your taste, watch the same movie at the same time so it was like you were watching it with him. Sometimes he’d even whisper goodnight to you through the wall, which you always replied back to.

The giddiness in his heart had grown tenfold, and the anticipation of seeing you in person was growing. 

He’d left a note for you a week and a half ago asking when he could see you, actually see you, to which you only replied, ‘soon.’ 

Hoseok called early this morning to ask Jimin if he could come in and help with classes all day, to which Jimin was happy to do. He was happier to do a lot of things, now that his living situation had done a complete 180. The boys all noticed the extra pep in his step once you two had started leaving notes for each other, and while Namjoon was wary that it could all be too good to be true, the rest were just glad he wasn’t a mope anymore. 

The day was exhausting considering Jimin hadn’t formally been back to the studio for a week or two, but it felt good to move and stretch his muscles again. He was remembering how fun life can be when he’s not miserable all the time. 

Hanging with Hoseok while teaching some youth dancers a new routine was exactly what Jimin needed right now, just mindless fun and some time to be a leader. He liked having the young dancers look up to him and enjoy learning with him.

When the day finally came to a close, Hoseok offers to get Jimin a ride, but Jimin decides he rather likes the cool air on his sweaty skin and tells him he’ll just walk home. The studio isn’t too far from his place and he likes to watch the cars pass by illuminated by the streetlights.

Jimin gets lost in his thoughts; about class, about the next scheduled outing with the boys, even about you. 

He doesn’t even realize it, but he’s smiling to himself just thinking about what note you could possibly have left him tonight. Maybe tonight would be the night he’d get to meet you properly. 

All of his thoughts, though, get set aside when he sees a girl, roughly his age, being harassed by some sleazy guy outside of his building. 

—

You hadn’t planned on going out this evening, figuring there was enough to do inside to keep you occupied. It was when you realized you were out of sugar for the cookies you wanted to bake for Jimin that you decided it couldn’t hurt to take a quick trip to the supermarket down the street. 

You pull on your sweatshirt, hiking the hood up over your head, grabbing your bag and keys, and head out. You take a quick peek at your door to see the note Jimin left behind. 

You smile as you read it, stuffing it in your pocket and heading out. 

The walk to the market and buying the sugar was easy. It was still kind of light out when you left, and nobody had approached you while you scoured the market for the sugar. 

It was the walk home that ruined everything. 

Sometimes you cursed yourself for how you always seemed to draw in the worst people. While you also could attract the nicest of people, it seemed that the bad ones were easier and in abundance. 

On your way back, bag of sugar in one hand, your keys in the other, you could feel the sensation of someone watching you. You didn’t want to seem paranoid, so you just picked up pace and kept your eyes locked ahead. 

It was when you could finally see the steps of the building in your vision that you felt a hand wrap around your forearm, yanking you backwards.

Stupidly enough, you couldn’t force yourself to scream, you just yelped at the searing force the figure used and tried to rip yourself from him.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out so late by yourself.” You didn’t want to look at the man, his voice sending chills down your spine and the air thickening so much around you, you felt like you were suffocating. 

For some reason, people lost their sense of boundaries when around you, which you didn’t understand at all. It’s like people felt like they owned you almost, like the air you put off gave them the right to act like you owed them something. 

Your mother always credited it to your blind generosity and kindness, but sometimes things just went too far. 

“Leave me alone, please.” Your voice was soft and tight, holding back your tears as best you could. You didn’t want to seem like you were utterly defenseless. 

As your grip on your keys tightened, enough to, with the right movement, hit the guy to get away, a voice cuts through the air.

“Hey, she said leave her alone.” Your head shoots to the side, a boy with brown hair and a black sweatshirt coming into your vision. His features were soft and delicate, but the look on his face showed stone-cold seriousness. 

He slowly approached, looking at how the man’s hand was coiled tightly around your arm. Lifting one hand up in defense, he looks from you to the man, “Look, just let go and get out of here, there’s a security guard right in the building, so just let it go man.” 

The sleaze looks from the boy, to you, to the building. It’s then that he sees the security cameras trained on him that he promptly lets go of you, shoving you to the ground and taking off. 

  The boy rushes over to you, calmly as not to startle you more than you already were and grabs your hands, helping you to your feet. 

You look down at the busted bag of sugar on the sidewalk and sigh, letting a few tears slip out on accident. 

You were frustrated to say the least, why could people be so awful?

The boy picks up the bag, trying not to spill too much more out of it and turns to you.

“Are you okay?” He watches a single tear slip down your cheek and his heart clenches in his chest. How dare some asshole hurt someone, especially an innocent girl like you. 

You shake yourself to bring yourself back to reality and attempt a pathetic smile, “I’m fine. Thank you for that. You didn’t have to.” You go to take the bag from his hands but he pulls it closer to him.

“Yes I did, no one deserves to be attacked like that.” 

He looks in your eyes for a moment, assuring you that he wouldn’t have acted any other way than helping you. It was what any good person would do; what any decent person would do. 

“Well, thank you, again. I can take that,” you say, pointing to the bag settled in his arms. 

He shakes it a bit, forgetting the split and sending more sugar to the concrete. You can’t help but let out a little giggle at how his face drops when he realizes what he’d done. 

“I can carry it for you, then you won’t have to walk alone.” He smiles, bright and it’s contagious, spreading a smile to your lips. 

You shift your body and point to the building ahead, “That’s okay, I live right here anyways.”

His eyes beam wide, “Wait, you live here?” He asks excitedly.

“Yeah, why?”

“So do I!” He exclaims, following you as you ascend the steps into the lobby. He follows you to the elevator, stepping in behind you. He goes to push the button to his floor after you push yours, but he realizes you just pushed the same button.

“You live on the fourth floor too?” You turn to look at him, shock present on both of your faces. 

You’re wondering who this mystery guy might be, both nervous and excited about all these crazy coincidences. It’s when he follows you to your door, which resides right next to his, that you both stare at each other, it finally hitting you.

“Jimin?” You ask, and he nods. You can’t help the butterflies erupting in your stomach, finally face to face with the boy next door.

Jimin was about to pass out, his inner self jumping up and down, screaming, everything to celebrate finally meeting his neighbor, but on the outside, he tries to play it cool.

“You never actually told me your name,” he says, looking at you expectantly. 

Slowly bringing your hand out to him, you hold it out, “Y/N.” 

He grasps your hand in a light shake, fingers lingering a bit longer than they should have.

He clears his throat, lifting the bag to point to your door, “Maybe we should take this inside?” 

You turn and unlock your door, mentally preparing yourself for the fact that you were letting someone into your home for the first time. How crazy that the first person you’d invite inside would be the mystery neighbor you were dying to meet?

Jimin sets the sad sack of sugar on your counter, cringing when it spills out onto the surface, but you just shake your head and tell him it’s fine. 

“So, you're the girl who saved me from the awful people that used to live here?”

He’s standing awkwardly by the door, unsure if it’s alright to come in and make himself at home or not. You’re not sure how to interact with strangers in your home, but Jimin at least wasn’t a total stranger. 

“Guilty as charged, I guess.” He smiles when you let another giggle escape.

“Do you want to,” you gesture to the tea kettle on the stove, “stay for tea?” 

  Jimin spots the time on your oven and realizes how late it is. He promised Namjoon he’d meet him at the library early tomorrow morning, and he also just now realizes how gross and sweaty he is from class. 

“It’s actually pretty late, I should probably head to bed.” He hates himself, more than he ever has at any other moment in his life.

He’d finally come face to face with the girl whose been occupying his every thought, and he’s turning down time to spend with her?

When he looks at your face, you’re not upset with him like he expects you to be.

“Another time then, it’s not like it’s a far walk from your place to mine.” Another giggle that sends shivers up and down his spine, red tinging the tips of his ears.

“Right, absolutely.” You smile at each other, not sure where to go from there. Jimin turns around, grabbing the edge of your door, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Your cheeks flush pink, warmed by the amount of concern lacing every word.

“Yes, Jimin, I’m fine, thanks to you.” He can feel his entire face heat up and he wants to turn away so you won’t see.

“Goodnight Y/N,” he says quickly, walking forward, pulling the door with him.

“Goodnight Jimin.” And then the door shuts.

You hear him open and close his door, huff loudly into most likely a pillow and you presume he must have went to take a shower. 

The walls weren’t the thickest in this complex, so it didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Lifting the bag off the counter, you set it in the sink to take care of tomorrow. 

You can just make Jimin cookies and take them to him tomorrow as well. 

—

The more time you spent actually hanging around Jimin, the more you found yourself opening up. You’d always been quite introverted, hiding yourself away in your home.

Jimin made opening up fun. You would go over to his place, watch him play video games or make him dinner after you’d found out he basically lived off of take-out. 

He’d come over to your place and insist on watching you bake, even helping out when you told him you’d teach him how to make those sweet buns you'd left for him the first day.

Notes were replaced with actual words, whether that be you or him barging into each other’s places to rant about something stupid on TV or yelling playfully at each other through the walls. 

It was like having a roommate you didn’t really share the living space with. 

You’d both grown so comfortable with each other over time, it was like you’d been best friends for years. 

You’d show up in your pajamas to watch movies and sometimes he’d barge in to your place dripping wet wrapped only in a towel to steal your shampoo because his had ‘run out.’ In actuality, he just liked the smell of yours better. 

He introduced you to his friend group rather quickly, and you’d found yourself sucked in immediately. 

Taehyung would chase Jungkook around Jimin’s place to avenge the food he’d steal from your plate, while Namjoon would come up with clever ways you could get rid of both of them without anyone knowing. 

You’d even let Yoongi sleep on your couch a few times after he’d fall asleep during a movie you’d all be watching. 

They were like family to you in an instant and you felt so at home with them, more than you’d ever had with anyone in your life before. 

Jimin loved having you as his best friend and he loved that you’d become his friends’ friend as well. 

The only issue came up when Jimin realized he had non-platonic feelings for you. Of course he had a crush on you when you first met, but as you grew closer, you’d become such good friends that the crush sort of fizzled out. Suddenly, watching you show Jungkook how to ice a cookie, he realized he didn’t like you just as a friend. He liked you. 

Every time he’d try to flirt with you or subtly drop hints of his affection for you, you’d never picked up on it. He was friend zoned again and again and again.

Jimin was too worried about ruining your friendship, so he decided he’d just keep it to himself and move on. You were too important to him to jeopardize what you already had. 

—

Fast forward a few months and bring in Jiwoo, Namjoon’s friend from school, and Jimin thinks he’s finally over his hopeless crush on you. 

Jimin started making plans with Jiwoo, spending more time with just her and leaving you behind. 

You were happy he found someone, especially someone as sweet as Jiwoo. She was everything he needed, she’d be good for him, so you weren’t going to get in the way. 

While you grew lonely the less and less you saw Jimin, you couldn’t blame him for enjoying himself. He deserved to love and be loved.

Luckily, the boys knew that there was something more between you and Jimin, you both were just ‘too dumb,’ in Yoongi’s opinion, to see it.

While Jimin was off with Jiwoo pretending he was over you, the boys decided it was their duty to watch over you and keep you occupied. 

They could tell you were hurting more than you were letting on, especially when Jin stopped in to ask you if you wanted to go get coffee and found you on the couch crying over a romantic movie. 

Of course, not knowing what to do, he told the rest of the guys and ‘Plan: Get the Dummies Together’ (named through the joint effort of Jungkook and Taehyung’s last brain cells) commenced. 

Namjoon didn’t want to interfere at first, but when he saw how sad you looked as you watched Jimin take Jiwoo over to his place, he knew something had to be done, and the other boys couldn’t be trusted to do it right.

According to the plan, Namjoon and Hoseok would occupy Jimin to get him away from Jiwoo as much as possible. During this time, they’d talk mostly about you. 

The rest of the boys were tasked with keeping you happy. Cooking, walks, shopping, it didn’t matter as long as you were smiling and not crying. 

After a few days of initiating the plan, Jimin pulled Namjoon aside to ask him what was going on. They weren’t the best at being subtle, so it didn’t take long for him to catch on.

“You know you’re a literal idiot, right?” Namjoon sighs, Hobi nodding.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin didn’t think his best friends would attack him so openly like this, but he’s more concerned what brought it on than their attitude. 

“Y/N.” Hobi says, the both of them just looking at him like he’d kicked a puppy or something.

There’s a tinge of guilt swirling around in the pit of his stomach, but he forces himself to ignore it, “What about her?”

  “Do I have to spell it out for you? You L-O-V-E her and she L-O-V-E-S you dipshit.”

That takes Jimin by complete surprise. He thought he had been careful about hiding his feelings for you, even developing feelings for someone else to keep them at bay. 

Was there any chance you had felt the same way?

“No I don’t, and no she doesn’t. I’m with Jiwoo.” 

“Exactly. You’re with Jiwoo, but you don’t love her. You love Y/N.” Namjoon is getting more impatient with Jimin the longer he dodges it.

“Of course I don’t,” is all Jimin can get out, too caught up in everything happening at once. Did he really love you? Were his feelings for Jiwoo not real? Did you love him back? Why hadn’t you said or done anything to clue him in on how you felt? He thought he’d been kind of obvious before.

“Then say it, say ‘I love Jiwoo, I don’t love Y/N.’” Joon knows exactly how this will play out, but Jimin needs to hear it from himself. 

“Fine,” Jimin huffs, “I love Y/N, I don’t love Jiwoo-“ he wants to cover his mouth, but Hobi is already jumping around yelling ‘We knew it!,’ and Joon’s just smirking matter-of-factly. 

“And that is why you are an idiot.” Jimin knows what he has to do now, the realization that his heart belongs to someone else weighing heavily. 

Even the spark of hope that you might love him back can’t shield him from the hurt he’s about to cause. 

—

There were a lot of tears, but Jiwoo only said she had a feeling this was going to happen. Apparently Jimin was really bad at hiding his feelings for you, so it was only a matter of time before things had to come to an end. 

In the end, Jiwoo even wished him luck, knowing how much you both meant to each other. She couldn’t be too mad at true love after all.

Jimin was a freaking wreck on the other hand. He wasn’t good at breaking people’s hearts, and it took a toll on him.

He no longer had a girlfriend to make him happy and he didn’t know where you and him stood. 

Since the break-up, he’d noticed how much time you were spending with Jungkook and the others. He didn’t like feeling jealous of his friends, but he couldn’t help it. 

He was too much of a coward to confront you and tell you how he feels, though.

After letting himself be miserable over the break-up for a few days, he comes up with the best way he knows how to talk to you.

Grabbing the pad of paper, abandoned months ago, he writes up a quick note to leave on your door. He walks out, and just as he is about to put the paper up, your door swings open.

Your alone for the first time in a while, the boys coming up with excuses to let you and Jimin have your own time. 

You had planned on going on a walk to get some fresh air when you come face to face with Jimin at your door. 

He looks like a mess, hair disheveled, face stained with tears, and in the same crinkled sweats he’d lived in all week. 

You couldn’t help the pang of sadness twist through your heart. He looked broken. 

“Hey,” was all you manage to get out, in fear you’d crack and make a fool out of yourself. 

“Hey.” Jimin’s voice is rough and dry after crying for so long. He hated how pathetic he looked and sounded in front of you. 

How could you possibly love someone like him?

“Are you okay? Where’s Jiwoo?” You hated yourself for the nasty taste you got in your mouth from saying her name, it wasn’t her fault you waited too long.

“We actually broke up.” He doesn’t cry this time, he just searches your face for a reaction.

While you are sad your friend is hurting, you can’t help the hope blossoming in your chest.

“I’m sorry, you want to talk?” He just nods and rushes forward into your arms. You both missed the feeling of holding each other close, snuggling into one another and letting yourselves be vulnerable. 

You let out a relieved gasp when he clutches tight to you, as if he was afraid you’d dissipate into the air. 

“I should’ve just told you,” he whispers into your shoulder. 

“Tell me what?” You pull your face back from his chest to look at him confused. He just lifts his hand, still clutching the note tightly, and shows it to you.

‘I love you.’

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

Yes, I know it’s up later than the others, me being late to upload is just going to be a theme for the rest of the week. Anyways, cue the softest, cutest Jimin fanfic have ever written. Not to sound like a broken record, but, I really freaking love this one. Hope all you Chim gals eat your heart out, I hope I did your boy justice. 2 more to go. Stay Spooky!💜

       -Moonie🌙

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

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

Genre: Supernatural Au, Fluff, Angst

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

Word Count: 6K

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

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

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

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

“Please don’t.” 

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then it lunch rolled around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d have to talk to him.

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

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

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

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

Sometimes high school is just too much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was not yours. 

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

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

He hesitantly takes it in his, “Jungkook.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t flatter yourself Kook.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook was not only curious, he was worried. 

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your brothers?”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wondered why.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, everything is black.

—

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s all blank after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he wasn’t.

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

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

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

“I’m okay.” 

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Moonie🌙

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