Rekindle The Spark | Kim Seokjin

i love when men

MAKE ME CHOOSE ↳ hobi + the hyungs or the maknaes? — @runoutofsteam (cr. namuspromised)

Kiss Me | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, College!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing, fingering, dirty talk, dry humping, Jimin's an annoying Cupid, Jin's a shaggy-haired BMOC heartthrob

Word Count: 5.9k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Somehow all the videos you've taken all year star no one but Kim Seokjin. When did you fall in love with your best friend?

A/N: This all stems from a TikTok video montage of Jin set to "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer. Jin is truly just a 90's dreamboat living in modern times, so why not write a fic about that? Thanks to @thatlongspringnight @miscelunaaa @lavienjin @wwilloww @reliablemitten @dntaewithluv for encouraging me to do this! Dedicated to all my possums. 💕

Fic is set in the mid-to-late 1990s. Unbeta'd as usual. I would love to hear what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Jimin greets you as he enters the editing room. You’ve been sitting alone, drumming your fingers on the desk while you waited for him to arrive. “The ad guys needed me to sign off on a few things and you know what talkers they can be.”

“No prob,” you shrug. “So what’s up? You said it was some sort of emergency?”

When you first read the email from your editor earlier that day, you’d panicked a little, fearing the worst. As head videographer of your college’s yearbook staff, ‘the worst’ meant that something had happened to the multiple videocassettes you’d dropped off the other day. Those tapes contain every event you’ve attended over your entire junior year. Without them, there basically is no video yearbook.

But when you got to the editing room and found the tapes right where you’d left them, you figured Jimin was just being his usual overdramatic self. Probably just needed you to help him pick out a font or something.

He crosses his arms. “Did you watch any of the tapes before you brought them in?”

“Enough to confirm that I actually recorded stuff, yeah, I watched them a little.” You frowned. “Why?”

“Did you notice anything… unusual about them? Any recurring themes, perhaps?”

“Uh….” Themes? You were a videographer, not a cinematographer. “Can you please just tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

“Oh, I’ll do you one better. Let me show you what I’m talking about.” He clicks on the main tv and presses play on the VCR. As a tape whirs to life, a handsome face flickers on the screen.

It’s a face you’ve seen nearly every day for the last 3 years. Your best friend, Kim Seokjin. He smiles brightly on screen, dark hair hanging in his warm eyes, and your heart flutters as if he were looking at you and not the lens of a camera. From the outfit he wears, a warm-up suit in your school’s colors, you guess this is the video from one of his tennis matches.

After a few shots of him hitting a few serves, he’s replaced by another Seokjin, this one dressed casually, a bright pink and yellow t-shirt and matching shorts, playing hacky sack on the quad with some other students. The camera stays on Seokjin even when he’s not the one juggling the sack. His squeaky laugh fills your ears, making you smile.

“Did you start editing these together?” you ask. “Interesting choice to segue from Jin to Jin.”

“Hmmm, yeah, interesting,” Jimin replies drily.

Hacky sack Seokjin is gone now. Your brow furrows as you watch yet another Seokjin cavorting on the tv, this one shirtless, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of swimming trunks, chasing members of his fraternity with a hose. Clearly this is from the fundraiser car wash they’d had a few weeks ago. Water drips from his wet shirt, which clings to him as he pretends like he’s going to spray the camera and you audibly gulp.

There’s Seokjin in his choir robes, making you swoon as he sings a solo in his crystal-clear tenor. Seokjin wearing one of his many pastel hoodies, tutoring several students in the library. Seokjin dressed in formalwear, looking like a model rather than a college student, winking at the camera.

But why were these all cut together like this?

Jimin presses pause and the footage freezes midwink. “Do you see the problem yet?”

“I don’t know if it’s a problem, but it’s certainly an unusual approach for a yearbook to focus on only one student, Jimin.”

“Yeah, no shit! That’s the issue,” he sighs.

“Okay. So… why did you pick all of Jin’s shots? Why not throw in some other students?”

Jimin stares at you. “Are you… are you kidding me? I didn’t choose Jin’s shots, I used the only shots you gave me! Each tape is filled with nothing but Kim Seokjin!”

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Well, it’s not my fault that he’s in every freaking activity and organization on campus! Tennis, choir, President of the environmental club, President of the photography club, President of Beta Tau Sigma… do I need to go on?”

Jimin gives you a stern look. “Sure, he’s the big man on campus who apparently never sleeps, but he’s not the only person in those activities! And yet you made him the star of every video!”

“Fuck off, no I didn’t.” Jimin raises an eyebrow at your protest. “Oh, come on! There’s no way. You’re being a real butthead right now - if there’s a joke here, I don’t get it.“

He pops the cassette out and exchanges it for one with ‘baseball championship’ scrawled across it in your handwriting.

“Ha, Jin doesn’t even play… baseball.” Your elation sputters out as the camera pans over the crowd at the biggest game of the year, only to stop and zoom in on Seokjin, who is trying desperately to start the wave. He’s eventually successful, which you discover because the camera never pans away. Not even when a loud roar goes up as something exciting happens on the field. Possibly the game-winning home run that clinched the tournament for your school - you’re not sure, because all you see is Seokjin.

Jimin stops the tape. “Explain that.”

You can’t.

He sighs, patting your arm. “It’s okay. I was once where you are, a young, lovesick puppy following my crush around. You’ll grow out of it.”

“First of all, you’re only 3 weeks older than me, so you can drop the enlightened elder routine, dude, and secondly, I am not a lovesick puppy!” Seokjin is your friend. Jimin knows that. Why is he being such a tool right now?

Jimin says your name in the most condescending “oh honey” tone he can muster. “You really need to figure some things out, huh?” He hands you the tape of his edits. “Here. Maybe this will help.”

“I don’t…”

“The good news is, I think I can still cobble something together using your tapes and the footage provided by our other videographers.” He winces. “I might have to deploy, like, John Woo-levels of slo-mo in order to pad it out a little here and there, but I’ll figure it out.” He clicks off the tv and stands, and you automatically do the same. “I need some java if I’m going to survive a late-night editing session. Want to hit the coffee hut with me?”

“No thanks. If we’re done… ?”

Jimin nods. “Yeah, I’ve got it from here.” You start to leave and he stops you, calling your name. “You should really watch the rest of that. It might clear a few things up for you.”

“Whatever,” you reply, waving over your shoulder.

As you wander out of the student center, you barely take note of the students who call your name and wave to you on your trek back to your dorm. The video is still in your hand. You gaze at it as if it’s a snake, expecting it to bite at any second. What are you supposed to do with this?

Well, obviously there’s only one thing you can do with that tape.

You watch it.

Thankfully, you are alone in your dorm room, since your roommate is at her boyfriend’s for the night, so you don’t have to explain to her why you’re watching a Kim Seokjin compilation. You’re not sure you could explain it. Especially when you don’t fully understand it yourself.

The scenes you’d watched with Jimin roll by, a montage of Seokjin moments that already live in your head 24/7. You reach the shot of him in his rented tuxedo, mingling with his frat brothers and their dates at their winter formal, and can’t help but admire your friend again.

Jimin chose not to cut to another clip of Seokjin here, though. Instead, he let the tape play.

On your little tv screen, Seokjin sees you aiming the camera at him and laughs, sweeping his long black bangs off his forehead. “Are you going to stay behind that thing all night?”

The camera shakes slightly as your giggles float through the speakers. “Duh, of course. I’m on official business tonight.”

Technically, you were there for the yearbook. But Seokjin didn’t have a date for the evening, so you were also attending the dance with him. Wearing a satiny floor-length gown in your favorite color, the one that really made your eyes pop, you hoped you looked the part of a stunning date even if you were just the best friend helping out.

“Besides, you’re one to talk.” You zoom in on the beloved vintage Fujipet in Seokjin’s hand. You were used to seeing the shiny black and chrome camera at special events. But tonight he’s hardly been without it for more than a few minutes. Mostly during dinner, while wolfing down his meal. “That thing’s practically glued to your hand.”

Seokjin immediately sets the Fujipet down. “Okay, your turn.”

“Jin,” your voice whines, “stop. I can’t!”

“Aish, you take that yearbook too seriously. You’re missing out on so much!”

“Uh, as if! I’m literally capturing everything!” you retort indignantly. Seokjin knows how seriously you take this.

One night, many months ago, while reveling in the freedom of being young and very drunk, you’d given Seokjin an impromptu sermon about your hobby.

“Life is fleeting, Jinnie,” you’d slurred, waving your bottle of beer around. The two of you were sitting on his fraternity’s stoop, enjoying a surprisingly warm winter night. “It’s so fucking short! You have to - have to try to hold on to those moments, you know? Because you blink and poof! They’re gone. That’s why I want to record them all.”

“Them all what?” Seokjin, a bit of a lightweight, struggled to follow your speech.

“Huh?”

“What?”

You both dissolved into giggles as Seokjin leaned against you. After a few seconds, you started again. “My point is, you have to capture those moments if you can. So they live on. That’s what I want to do. I wanna grab that magic and store it away to share with others when they need it. I want to - to capture the world!” Throwing your arms up, you accidentally smacked Seokjin in the face, and the rest of the night disintegrated into drunken laughter and apologies after that.

He knows this is important to you. Maybe that’s why he resorts to begging.

“Yeah, you’re capturing it. But you’re not experiencing it! Come on, put it down for a minute and dance with me. Just one dance! Please?” Seokjin pleads with a pout, throwing you his best puppy dog eyes. He knows you can’t resist that look, and offscreen you hear yourself sigh.

“Fine. One dance. Let me pause.” The image jumps wildly as you place the camera on a table at the edge of the dance floor. It must be lying on its side, based on the way everything suddenly shifts, and you can hear a click like you’ve pressed something, but the tape keeps rolling.

How long is this scene going to run? Jimin must’ve thought it was vital to his little clip show, so you flop over onto your bed, tilting your head to better watch the strange angle on the tv screen. Maybe watching nearly upside-down will bring you more clarity than watching it right-side up did.

Seokjin holds out his hand and leads you to where other couples are already swaying to the music blasting from the dj booth. Since you’re alone now, you grab the remote, cranking the volume high. It’s one of your favorite songs - ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer.

He draws you close, long arms wrapping around your waist, a comforting weight settling against your back. He’s warm under your touch, soft, but also solid, the silk of his collar brushing against your fingertips as you rest your hands on the nape of his neck.

The camera can only watch from a distance as the two of you begin to dance slowly, but it’s not like you really need the video. You remember that night pretty well, given that you stayed sober so you could film everything. You’d learned your lesson about manning the camera drunk after you tried to record your roommate’s birthday party one year and ended up with 2 hours of nothing but lens cap.

“See?” Seokjin says after a few seconds. “Isn’t this better?”

“Eh,” you shrug, a teasing smile on your lips. Seokjin laughs.

How could you be blamed for wanting to focus on such a gorgeous man? The camera isn’t zoomed in right now, but you don’t need that machine to show you what’s already so strongly emblazoned in your mind. Those expressive eyes that glimmer as he gazes at you. The way his pouty lips part, revealing that brilliant smile you love so much.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

“Of course! What’s a best friend for?” You beam up at him.

“Right…” he replies, chuckling softly. “Best friend…” He trails off, eyes scanning the couples around you as he leads you around the floor.

Even without the aid of the microphone, you swear you can hear his heart beating loudly as you rest your head on his shoulder, just like you heard it that night.

The camera watches as Seokjin says something that makes you lift your head. And once again you’re struck by just how gorgeous he is. But he’s so much more than that. He’s the funniest. The smartest. The sweetest.

Why not make him the center of your videos? The yearbook needs to be interesting, to entertain people, captivate them, make them want to watch it over and over, maybe wishing they could be there, at those games or concerts or even in the quiet moments you’ve filmed, like this one, just you and Seokjin, slowly spinning around the room in one another’s arms, you smiling up at him like there’s no one else in the w-

Oh.

Oh.

Sitting up quickly, the blood rushes directly to your head and you tip backwards into your pillows, woozy. But it’s not just the sudden flush that makes you feel dizzy. A dozen questions pop into your head, causing emotional vertigo.

How the fuck have you been so blind to your feelings? When exactly had you fallen in love with your best friend? And if Jimin knows, does anyone else?

The scene finally ends, and the image of you and Seokjin dancing becomes him spearing trash along a highway with the environmental club. But the song starts up from the beginning again - Jimin must’ve dubbed it overtop. What a ridiculous flourish.

The video carries on, Seokjin after Seokjin after Seokjin flashing on screen (god, how many of these events did you attend together? All of them??) After a few minutes, you begrudgingly applaud Jimin’s skills, because he really cut the shots so perfectly to line u-

“What is this?”

“Fuck!” You bolt upright as Seokjin’s voice scares the bejesus out of you. Scrambling for your remote, you smash the stop button before turning around.

He’s standing in your doorway, eyes wide underneath his messy bangs as he stares at the tv. One hand grips the strap of the backpack hanging off his shoulder while the other plays with the cords on his oversized blue and white hoodie - a nervous tick you’re well-acquainted with.

“I - I didn’t hear you come in,” you stammer.

“Yeah, figured you couldn’t hear me knocking over the music,” he replies, still staring at the blank screen. “Door was unlocked. What was that?”

“The song? ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpe- “

“Not the song.” He finally glances at you. “I know the song. What the hell were you watching?”

“Well, uh… how long have you been standing there?”

He gives you a look.

You could lie. Make up some sort of excuse, maybe something technical that he might not understand, but you don’t think about it for more than a second. This is Seokjin. Your best friend. You can’t lie to him.

You gesture for him to sit. “It’s something that Jimin edited together for me.”

Seokjin plops himself down on the other end of your bed. “He made you a… a music video? Starring yours truly?”

He seems puzzled. It’d be so easy for you to reach out and press your thumb to the little worry lines between his brows and soothe them away. The urge is overwhelming.

How did you not know you loved him?

“Kinda?”

“What do you mean, kinda?” He laughs a little. “That’s definitely what it looked like. Like watching an Mnet broadcast from an alternate dimension.” He pauses. “But why did Jimin make this for you?”

Nervously, you fiddle with your remote. “He went through all the footage I handed in for the yearbook. Apparently, you’re the focus of every video. Doesn’t matter what I was supposed to be shooting - games, parties, whatever - I only recorded you.”

He looks slightly bewildered at this, even with his thriving confidence. “Only me?”

Nodding, you avoid Seokjin’s eye, feeling heat creeping along your neck. It’s embarrassing trying to explain this. “Yeah. Nothing and no one else. I basically filmed a whole year of The Kim Seokjin Show and he… wanted to point that out.” You shrug, trying to play it cool, but still don’t look at him.

Seokjin’s unusually quiet for a few minutes as he contemplates your answers. Then he scoffs, shaking his head. “Let me get this straight. Jimin put this video together just to critique your work? Seems like a dick move.”

“Yeah, well… if it weren’t for the other videographers, we wouldn’t have enough footage for a yearbook, since mine is basically useless, so maybe his dickishness is a little justified.” You sigh, biting your lip as you realize that you’d pretty much let Jimin and the rest of the yearbook staff down.

“Ah. I see.” He tugs on his hoodie drawstrings, pulling them back and forth. “But would a dick go to the trouble of adding a soundtrack?”

“Honestly, I think he was just showing off with that,” you snort. You finally hazard a glance and find him regarding you carefully.

“Look, I get it,” Seokjin sighs, tossing his bangs out of his eyes as he reclines on your bed. “It only makes sense that you would end up making me the focus of all your videos. I mean, come on.” He gestures broadly to himself, and your lips quirk at his more than healthy self-esteem. “Jimin can’t fault you for that. But if you really wanted some good shots of me for your personal collection, you could’ve just asked for a private performance.” With an exaggerated wink, he throws you an air kiss.

“I’ll remember that for next year,” you roll your eyes, but giggle nonetheless.

He grins. “You should. Anyway… wanna grab dinner?”

“On campus?”

“Nah, let’s do takeout.” He starts rattling off a list of options and you just hum along, relieved.

Thank god it was Seokjin who came through the door and not your roommate or one of your friends. There’s no way any of them would’ve let you off the hook so easily. This is what Seokjin always does - he comforts you even in the most awkward, stressful situations. Like trying to explain why you seem to own a highlight reel of your bff’s greatest moments. He cracks a joke at his expense, makes you laugh, and breaks the tension.

No one else is as thoughtful as he is. No one else cares for you the way he does.

No one else.

“Jimin wasn’t being rude,” you start again when he’s finished listing restaurants. “Well, maybe a little, but no more than usual. I think he was also trying to help me.”

Seokjin twists his drawstrings. “Eh, you’re a great videographer, you don’t need his help.”

“That’s, uh, not what I mean. He was just… it’s that…”

It’s hard to find the right words to explain. All you can do is try. Seokjin’s eyebrows lift, encouraging you on, and you smile, grateful for his patience as you gather your thoughts.

“...he was trying to help me realize what’s been in front of me this whole time. I don’t know when something changed, but it did, and,” you pause, “and, I’m only realizing it now, but I… I…”

He must sense something from your tone, or the way you keep stammering, because he’s suddenly serious, dark eyes studying your face carefully as he says your name. “You what?”

Maybe you should be afraid to tell him. But you’re not. He’s your best friend.

You take a deep breath. “I love you, Jin.”

As long as you’ve known Seokjin, you’ve never seen him stunned silent. He always has a joke or a quip for any situation. Always. But your declaration has rendered him speechless. His face goes completely blank, too. It freaks you out a little.

Panic starts to set in. Did you make a mistake? “It’s okay if you don’t - don’t feel the same way. I just needed you to know.” You give him an out.

No response. His eyes shift, landing on your tv. The screen is still blank but the way he gazes at it makes you wonder if he’s seeing something there. If only you could record whatever’s going on inside his head. Replay it over and over until you understand.

The quiet stretches on too long, eating away at you until you can’t take it anymore.

“Please say something,” you finally implore him.

“I…” he blinks. “Okay.”

“Okay?” What’s okay?

“You love me?”

You nod.

“Okay. I… gotta go.” He slides off the bed and slowly backs away.

“What??” You rise up on your knees, mouth dropping open as he essentially moonwalks to the door. Rooted to the spot, you can only stare as he glances at you, his expression still alarmingly vacant.

“I’ll, uh… yeah….” he mumbles, and the door closes behind him.

Dumbfounded, you stare at it.

“What the fuck?!”

20 minutes pass, according to the clock on your nightstand. You haven’t moved a muscle since he left. It’s like you’re frozen, kneeling on your bed. The air around you feels a little cold, as if he took all the warmth from the room when he left.

It’s strange that you haven’t cried. Seokjin breaking your heart should leave you a sobbing mess, but your eyes are dry. You’re not even sure you know how to cry right now. Maybe you’re in shock.

How could he just walk out like that? His best friend confesses that she loves him and he just says “Okay” and bounces?? Was he that repulsed? Unable to bear the thought of you having feelings for him?

There’s no reason to keep staring at the door, but you can’t tear your gaze away as you wonder what will happen next. You’re supposed to meet him for breakfast tomorrow, before class. Will he skip? Go by himself and pretend not to know you?

Or, simply show up like normal and act like nothing happened?

Somehow, that feels like the worst possibility.

Once again, you’re sinking in endless questions, so you shake yourself free and climb off the bed. You need to get out of this room, get as far away from the tv and that tape, that damn videocassette that started it all. Maybe some ice cream would help. The cafeteria should be fairly empty this time of night, so you don’t have to worry about anyone seeing you when you inevitably break down over your Chunky Monkey.

But instead you yank your door open and Seokjin is there and suddenly you remember how to cry.

“What the fuck…” you utter before you’re too choked up to speak. Tears stream down your cheeks.

Seokjin doesn’t miss a beat. He steps into the room, sweeping you into his arms for a tight hug. “Whoa, whoa, don’t cry! Please, I’m sorry!” He sort of wobbles you around, walking backwards clumsily as you blubber into his shoulder until your legs hit your bed, gently coaxes you to sit. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have left like that.”

He grabs you a tissue from your nightstand and you accept it with a glare. A soggy glare, but a glare nonetheless. “Then why did you?”

“Because I needed a minute. I’m sorry, I know it was messed up to just run out on you, but I had to think.” He drops his backpack on your bed and unzips it, pulling out a black metal box. “And I needed this.”

“You needed a photo box?” Sniffling, you pick the box up and turn it over in your hands. There are no labels, nothing written anywhere on the box. You shoot him a confused look. “Explain.”

Seokjin pries the lid from the box and tilts his chin. “Take a look.”

A stack of photos sits inside. The top photo is you, video camera in hand, standing near a chain-link fence. You’re lit from behind by the sun, a bright halo radiating around you.

“That’s at my last tennis match,” Jin informs you.

The next photo is you again, camera held up to your eye as you stand on the quad, head tipped way back, mouth slightly open as snowflakes swirl around you.

“First snow, last year. You were trying to film a snowball fight on the quad, but you kept trying to catch snowflakes on your tongue.” His laugh squeaks like a rusty hinge as his eyes crinkle. “The video bounced so much it gave me motion sickness.”

One by one, you examine the photos. They’re all the same. Caught in profile, you’re the star of every shot, Seokjin’s camera gazing at you while you view the world through your video camera. You keep flipping as Seokjin keeps talking.

“I think Jimin must’ve been exaggerating. Unusual for him, I know,” Seokjin cackles, and you can’t help but grin. “But you have to have recorded other things, other people. Because if you were only watching me, you would’ve seen me only watching you.”

The lump in your throat returns as you look at him. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you do,” he replies softly. “You told me once how much you wanted to capture the world. That stuck with me.”

“It did?” Placing the photos back in the box, you push it aside.

“Yeah. It did.”

“But… these are only photos of me?”

“Right.” Seokjin shuffles nearer, until his thigh rubs against yours. He slides his thumb across your cheek, through the tears that cling there, and your eyes fall shut at his touch. “Don’t you get it? You’re my world.”

Your eyes flutter open. “Jin. Kiss me.”

He leans in and you meet him halfway as his mouth presses against yours. It’s soft, chaste almost, your lips just brushing. Then he tilts his head, cupping your face to bring you closer, and suddenly you’re kissing. Really kissing, mouths parting, tongues colliding, your hands in his hair, his hands tugging you into his lap. You breathe him, touch him, taste him. Him, him, him.

Your Jin.

God knows how much time goes by before you break apart. Jin’s face is bright red as he grins at you. You trace your finger along his plush lips. They’re even more plump now, swollen from the many nips you’ve given them.

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” you murmur, “because that was a pretty corny line.”

“Not a line. The truth,” he replies huskily, kissing your fingertip. “But excuse me, I thought you said you loved me? Not liked me.”

“Ugh, of course the linguistics major would argue semantics.” Will you ever tire of that ridiculous laugh? “I love you, you nerd.”

“You know I love you too, right?”

Joy sings in your chest, spreads through your body. “I was hoping, but you didn’t actually say it….”

“Every day for three years.”

He beams as you look at him skeptically.

“All three years? Every single minute?”

“Yep. Every moment.”

“Prove it,” you challenge him with a raised brow.

“You want me to go get my other photo boxes? This one’s just junior year.”

You weren’t expecting him to back up that claim with photographic proof. You were just trying to get him to kiss you again.

“Say it again,” you command, lips crashing into his. “Please. Again.”

“I love you,” he declares, laying you down. “I love you.” He settles himself on top of you. “I love you.” He nuzzles your lips, your cheek, your neck. On and on, covering you in burning kisses and softly murmured words.

You push him away for a moment, long enough to pull your top off and toss it onto the floor. He sucks in a breath as you unhook your bra and drop it as well.

“Goddamn. Would you look at those,” he marvels. Your head drops back as you laugh. He’s the most attractive man you’ve ever met, sure, but he’s also the biggest dork.

“Do you want to touch them?”

He nods enthusiastically, and you lie back on your pillows, motioning for him to follow. He does so hungrily, mouth immediately sucking one of your nipples in. You keen as his tongue flicks over the tiny bud, waking it up. His hands join his mouth in caressing every inch he can touch.

“Jin,” you sigh, clutching at the hood of his sweatshirt, pulling him back up so you can kiss him. He obliges, but then he’s gone again, lips tracing down your clavicle and running over your other breast. He lavishes both with attention until you’re breathless with want. With need.

His hand plays with the top button on your jeans. “Can these come off?” he asks, eyes round as he peers at you. As if he needs puppy dog eyes right now.

You nod, and he wastes no time undoing the buttons and sliding them down your legs. Then he reaches behind his head and yanks his hoodie off, taking the t-shirt underneath with it. You’d love to tease him about his eagerness, but it would be hypocritical of you, and besides, you’re too busy gawking at his bare chest. His baggy clothes hide the way his broad shoulders taper down to his waist, where the band of his Calvin Klein boxers rides above his sweatpants.

He slides back up your body to kiss you again. This time he lingers, and as his arms come to rest on either side of your head, he rolls his hips into you and you can feel how much he wants this, too. His hard length presses against your core and you whimper into his mouth, running your hands down his chest.

“Jin!” He repeats the movement, your hips lifting to meet his. His hand snakes between you and he slides a finger under the band of your panties.

“Can these come off, too?”

“God yes!”

With a laugh at your zealous response, Jin removes the last bit of clothing you wear. You laid your heart bare before him earlier, and now the rest of you is exposed, too.

His lips hover over yours as his fingers hover above your clit. He slowly draws a circle around the sensitive pearl as he swallows your moan.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he rasps, and as you nod, his finger plunges inside.

You’ve always admired Jin’s hands. Those long, slightly crooked fingers move adroitly when he’s playing with his camera or typing on his keyboard. But right now, his lithe fingers are simply pure magic, stroking, rubbing, dipping in and out. You’re spellbound, your kisses getting sloppier as you pant and groan against Jin’s lips.

“Oh god, don’t you dare stop!” you demand, eyes closing in bliss. One of your hands tangles in your bedspread, pulling the blanket up as you grip at it, while the other curls around his bicep, holding on tight.

“I won’t. I’m not stopping until you’re cumming all over me.” Jin’s voice breathes in your ear. You shudder, from the heat, the touch of his lips, the filthy promise. You’ve never heard him use that word before. It sounds so good on his tongue.

“T-tell me,” you moan. Opening your eyes, you see Jin watching you with an expression of lust that makes you clench around his fingers involuntarily, and he draws a shaky breath. He grinds his hips into the bed and you whine at the sight.

“Tell you what?” He drops his head to your neck, sucking gently, painting your neck with red marks that will fade to black and blue by morning.

“What you w-wanna do. To me.”

He lifts his head in surprise. “You like that?”

Other guys had tried talking dirty with you before and you’d played along, but it had never done a damn thing for you. Not until this moment.

“Yeah. Wanna hear you. Tell me what you wanna do to me, Jinnie,” you beg, voice breathless and sweet, and he groans, capturing your mouth in a harsh kiss before pulling away again.

“Fuck, I wanna do everything to you. Make you cum on my fingers, my tongue, my cock.” You mewl loudly, helplessly, at that last word, and he drags his thumb over your clit, agonizingly slow. Keening, you try to encourage him to speed up by bucking your hips towards him. “Oh, you wanna cum on my cock? How do you want it - deep and slow?” He starts to pump his fingers fast, and your whole body feels tight tight tight, like you’re about to snap. “Or fast and hard? Is that better? Throw your legs over my shoulders and fuck you senseless?”

“Ahhhhh, I want it all, please give it to me, please please pl- “ Your voice breaks as your body breaks, comes apart in Jin’s deft hands. You feel his hips bucking into the bed and then he hisses, burying his face in the valley of your breasts.

“Did - did you just - “

“Yeah,” he groans, voice muffled. “I just came in my pants like a fucking teenager.” He lifts his head, looking sheepish. You laugh, affectionately, amazed at how he can be so sexy but so cute at the same time, heart overflowing as he rolls behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“So,” you drawl after a few minutes of content snuggling, “about those things you said you want to do to me…”

“Yeah?”

“...are you waiting for a formal invitation, or…” You grind your ass against him and he tightens his arms around your waist, huffing a laugh into the crook of your neck.

“I’m gonna need some dinner first.” He nibbles on your shoulder. “Let’s take a break. We’ve got the rest of the night. And tomorrow. Every day after that.”

You twist in his arms. “Every day?”

“For as long as you’ll have me.” His gaze is so warm. It’s incredible that you never realized that look in his eyes was the look of love.

“I love you, Jin.”

“I love you too.” He grins. “Now... how about that takeout?”

© 2022 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

Into the Rush - Part One | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, crack, Best Friend's Brother!AU, Dodgeball!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of feeling rejected and unlovable, a little angsty but you know me, pansexual!Taehyung in the house, side VMin, Wooga Squad alert, Himbo NamKook alert, dance leader Hobi is reimagined here as a dodgeball team captain, implied sex, the smut is to come (heh) in part two

Word Count: 7.3K for part one; total wc tbd

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary:  When your best friend Taehyung tells you he has the perfect thing to help you get over a broken heart, you’re surprised to learn he means dodgeball, the beloved game of sociopathic gym teachers everywhere. But even more surprising is the way you find comfort in the game, and so much more, as you fall into the rush with the help of another teammate - his brother, Seokjin.

A/N: Happy belated birthday, Jin! This was written as part of the Catch of the Century collab, hosted by MVPs @raplinesmoon @joheunsaram and @kithtaehyung!

Sooooo this underwent a few rewrites and then my life blew up as the December deadline got closer and then I decided to do Kinkmas because I'm just a gal who can't say no. I knew I could either rush to get this done, be upset at how shoddily written it is, and then hate myself for putting out something I wasn't proud of just to meet the deadline, orrrrr I could be kind to myself and recognize that I am a human and not a machine and sometimes despite my best efforts I fall short, and release it as a two-parter. Et voilà! Here is part one.

Unbeta'd as usual.

Please don't be a silent reader 🥺 I'd love to know what you think! 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 Part Two

“Dodgeball. You want to play dodgeball?” 

You stare at your roommate incredulously. Taehyung nods. 

“Dodgeball. The kids game? The beloved sport of sociopathic PE teachers everywhere? That dodgeball?” 

He can’t be serious. Neither you nor he are the athletic type. But from the solemn look on his face as you continue to sputter in surprise, you know he’s not joking. Taehyung is many things - an artist, a daydreamer, the kindest soul you’ve ever met and your best friend of five years and counting - but he’s not a liar. 

Still, when he’d walked into your room five minutes ago, yanked back the curtains to let the late-morning light in, and told you to get up because he had an idea, you’d assumed he’d wanted you to go with him down to the coffee shop on the corner so he could covertly admire his latest crush, the cute barista with the pink hair. Dodgeball was nowhere near the possibilities your mind conjured up. 

Taehyung sighs. “Yes. Dodgeball. There’s an adult league that plays at the rec center on Saturdays and I want to join. And I want you to join, too.” He flops down on your bed, nudging you over so he can lie next to you, ignoring your grumbles as you make room. “I think it would be good for you to get out a little. Get some fresh air.”

“I have plenty of fresh air,” you inform him, gesturing to your bedroom window, which is currently cracked about an inch. It might be spring, but the chill that clings in the air still feels like winter. 

“Uh-huh. Sure you do. But out of curiosity, when’s the last time you actually left the apartment, besides for work?”

“Um.” He’s got you there. Casting your mind back, you can’t even remember the last time you left the safety of your home to do anything other than clock in at the bartending job where you both work. “Does going to the mailbox count?”

It doesn’t, and he doesn’t even need to respond, just gives you his signature exasperated look, but the warmth in his brown eyes shimmers just beneath as always. “Pumpkin,” he begins, using one of the many silly nicknames he loves to address you by, knowing how much you hate cutesy stuff like that, “you can’t hide in here forever.” 

An instant rebuttal floats through your mind. You absolutely can hide in your room for the rest of your life, if you so choose. The internet brings the world to your fingertips. Everything can be delivered these days. Okay, true, you’ll still need to leave for work, but that’s only until you finish your novel and net yourself a publishing deal. Then you can quit your crappy bartending job, build yourself the perfect blanket nest, and become the hermit you were always meant to be. 

Joining a dodgeball team doesn’t fit into that plan. It’s going to require you to go outside. Outside is dangerous. 

Outside is where he is. 

At the sharp pang that stabs your gut, you turn to your roommate with a grimace. “I don’t know. I’m not really a… sports…person - and neither are you, frankly. And it’s a team sport, which means others will be relying on you. You really think this is something you can commit to? I mean, remember the gym?”

Last year, the two of you had joined a gym together at his suggestion, which you both had visited a grand total of one time. He later confessed he’d only signed up because a hot customer at the bar had convinced him to after a long evening of flirting. That short-lived commitment ended the moment Taehyung arrived at the gym and discovered that the hot patron’s promise to give Tae a full-body workout was not, to Tae’s disappointment, a euphemism, but only a sales pitch.

Again, Taehyung doesn’t respond to your question. Instead, he uses the one weapon in his arsenal that destroys you every time the two of you argue over what to do.

With a tilt of his head, Taehyung flashes you his big sad puppy dog eyes.

You sigh. “Goddamn it. Fine. Fine. Let’s play dodgeball.” 

Immediately, Taehyung’s countenance changes, a brilliant, boxy smile crossing his face as he grins at your caving. “Great! Sign-ups are actually this afternoon, sooooo… up and at ‘em, cupcake! Let’s get moving.” He jumps up, holding out his hands, and you begrudgingly let him pull you out of bed. “You’re definitely going to need a shower before we meet the other players.” 

“Have I ever told you how annoying you are?” you mutter as you follow him down the hallway towards your tiny kitchen to brew some coffee, knowing you’ll need the caffeine if you’re going to be socializing with strangers this afternoon. 

He beams again, tossing his dark bangs out of his eyes. “All the time.”

The rec center is only a few blocks from your apartment, but you’d never stepped foot inside before Taehyung drags you down there to sign up for the league. Still, there’s a familiar scent when you walk into the building, the smell of rubber mats and sweat mingling together, stirring up memories of PE classes from grade school. The flashbacks make you shudder. 

Taehyung shakes you out of your memories as he steers you towards a folding table that’s been set up in the lobby. “Come on, we check in here.” A friendly woman in a purple tracksuit sitting at the table waves you over. 

“Hiya! Are you team leaders or free agents?” She laughs at your blank stares. “Okay, I’ll take that to mean you’re not here to sign up an existing team, but you’re free agents in search of a team to join!” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s us,” Taehyung nods sagely, as if he knew that. 

“Great! If you’ll just fill out these forms…” she hands you both a sheet of paper, “I will process your fees, and then I can point you in the direction of some teams looking to add some new players!” 

Forms? Fees? This is more complicated than you’d expected. You’d figured you’d just walk in and play, like joining a pick-up game of basketball or something similar that people who like sports might do. “So, um, how does this work?” 

The smile never leaves her face as Ms. Purple Tracksuit explains that you’ll be joining a team for the next ten weeks to play against other teams in a tournament ending in a championship match between the two best teams. “And the fee covers your uniform!” 

“A uniform?”

She leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t get too excited. It’s just a t-shirt.” 

After you hand in your form and make Taehyung pay your fee, Ms. Purple Tracksuit tells you to head into the main gymnasium, where the team leaders looking for new recruits are waiting. There’s another dose of déjà vu as you enter the room to find several clusters of players standing around, sizing you up as you walk in. It reminds you of being a kid, waiting on the sidelines while the other kids whisper to one another about who to pick.

“Uh, this is a little intense,” you whisper to Taehyung, clinging to his elbow as he blithely strolls between the groups. “I feel like I’m being judged.” 

“Nah, this is a numbers thing,” he says. According to Ms. Purple Tracksuit, teams consist of six to ten players, so there’s a good chance you’ll be able to find a team together. If you’re picked at all, that is. “Whatever team needs two players will take us, I’m sure.” 

Your roommate just wanders through life with a natural confidence that you’ve rarely seen in others. You suppose it makes sense, given how handsome and talented he is. Still irks you a bit. 

“And what makes you say that?” You scan the room, taking in the other players. There are several others who wear similar expressions to your own, looking a little overwhelmed. It strangely gives you hope that you won’t be the only one here who doesn’t know what she’s doing. 

And then there are those who look like they live, eat, and breathe dodgeball, like the two tall, muscle-bound gods to your left, both wearing a shirt that says “Rock the Balls.” Team leaders, you assume. 

“Uh-huh, sure,” Taehyung replies distractedly, and you frown, following his gaze to see what caught his attention, since he’s clearly not listening, only to spy pink hair and a gorgeous smile that you recognize from your favorite coffee shop.

Grabbing his arm, you force your roommate to look at you as you hiss his name. “Taehyung. Tell me we’re not here because of that barista!” 

“Hmm?” Tae’s starry-eyed expression is all the answer you need. Of course. Of course he dragged you here so he could flirt with his crush. How did you not see this coming? “What? Noooo, I told you, I want to play dodgeball! But isn’t it a nice coincidence that Jimin is here?” 

“Right. Coincidence. You’re unbelievable.” With an exasperated sigh, you give him a push. “Well, go talk to your man. See if his team needs two new players.” 

Taehyung doesn’t need telling twice, happily bouncing towards the barista. And now you’re alone in a gymnasium full of strangers, feeling left out again. As you slowly revolve in place, looking for somewhere to hide and wait for Taehyung to return, one of the muscle-bound gods approaches. 

“Hey,” he says, giving you a little head nod. “You looking for a team?” 

Technically, you suppose you are, but you should probably see if Taehyung will be dragging you on to Jimin’s team with him first. But as you glance at the god, with his wavy dark hair and silver lip ring nestled in the corner of a pair of rather pink lips, you’ve the urge to say yes. He and his buddy are mind-meltingly hot. 

“I’m not sure. I’m here with a friend,” you finally respond. Super glad Taehyung forced you to shower today.

The god nods, eyes dragging over your frame. If you touched your cheeks right now, you’re pretty sure they’d be blazing hot under his gaze. “That’s cool. I’m Jungkook, by the way, and this is Namjoon.” He nods to the other god, whose lips quirk in a cool half-smile. 

“Sup,” he rumbles, jerking his chin in your direction. He runs a hand through his short, dark hair, fingers scratching over the lines buzzed into the sides. “We run Rock the Balls. And we’re looking for two new members.”

“Actually, that’s gonna be three new members,” a familiar voice declares behind you. Your eyes widen before you spin to find yet another handsome man behind you. But this one you know well.

“Jin-ah!” Throwing your arms around his neck, you attack Seokjin with a hug, grinning as his squeaky laugh echoes through the gymnasium. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve seen Taehyung’s older brother, but he looks mostly the same - the same warm brown eyes surrounded by ever-deepening laugh lines, the same perfect cupid’s bow twitching as he smiles as you. The only difference is that his hair is a little shaggier now, a fluffy brown cloud that bounces when you finally release him. 

“I could get used to a hello like that,” Seokjin grins.

“When did you get home?” you ask, vaguely aware that the gods have drifted away. “And what are you doing here?”

“Got in two days ago. I would’ve stopped by to see you and Tae-yah, but I needed to get my land legs back first.” Seokjin probably means that pretty literally, since he’s spent the last year on a research station in the middle of the ocean. As a marine biologist, he works at a local lab run by a federal agency, studying the effects of ocean pollution on various species of fish. Occasionally, he has to do field work, but this last round was his longest stint yet, taking him away from home for nearly twelve full months. “When I texted him this morning, he mentioned that he was joining a dodgeball team, and I… well, I had to check that out for myself.” You both laugh. “So I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You definitely did that!” you confirm. “I want to hear all about your research trip. Did you find anything interesting? Discover any new species?” You lean in excitedly. “Did you finally find some mermaids??”

Seokjin tuts. “Aish, how many times do I have to tell you, I’m not a deep sea diver, I’m just a guy pulling water samples off a dock?” 

“Yeah, whatever, Jin Cousteau.” 

He rolls his eyes. “I was really hoping that that nickname would’ve died out in the last year.” 

“Oh no, that one’s for life. And listen, you can downplay your job all you want, but I know the deal. You just can’t tell me anything because the government forces you to keep those secrets locked down. But I’ll get the truth out of you someday.” 

“Oh?” Seokjin cocks an eyebrow. “And just how d-”

“Hyung!!” 

“Oof!” Seokjin grunts as your roommate launches himself at his brother, tackling him in a bear hug. When the affectionate embrace becomes a wrestling match in the middle of the gym, you feel a presence at your side, and turn to find Jimin and another man watching the melee with a surprised look on their faces. 

“Don’t worry,” you reassure them, “they’re always like this.” 

“Uh, okay,” the barista chuckles. “Um, I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Hoseok. Hoseok-ah, this is YN, Taehyung-ah’s roommate.” 

“Hey.” The other man grins a smile that can only be described as a beam of pure sunshine, and you wonder if this dodgeball league is for models only, because you’re basically surrounded by nothing but gorgeous people.  

“Hi. Um, and that is Seokjin, Tae-yah’s brother,” you gesture to the skirmish. 

“Mmmice to meet eww!” Seokjin’s response is a little muffled by Taehyung’s armpit, but he manages to wave. 

“Hyung, why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?” Taehyung whines.

“Anted oo urprise!” Seokjin finally untangles himself from his brother’s headlock. “Wanted to surprise you,” he says again, more clearly. 

“We’re starting a new team, and we could use three players, if you’d all like to join us?” Hoseok asks. 

“Are you sure you want this on your team?” you reply, gesturing to Taehyung and Seokjin.

“I think we can handle them,” Jimin grins, and Taehyung’s smile turns blinding. “Besides, we could use that energy on the court!” 

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees. “Also, we’re a brand new team, so we’re desperate!” 

“That’s my favorite word.” Seokjin’s shoulders shake as he cracks himself up. “We’re in!”

Hoseok smiles. “Fantastic. Welcome to the Seven Slamurai!”

Once you’ve finished signing up for Hoseok’s team, you, Taehyung, and Seokjin decide to grab some dinner together. Another thing about Seokjin that hasn’t changed during his time away is his voracious appetite, so you take him to an all-you-can-eat bbq restaurant not far from the rec center. 

As the soju starts flowing and the plates start piling up, Seokjin tells you about his year on the ocean. He starts out with a disclaimer, warning you that his research isn’t interesting, and he’s not entirely wrong. Most of it goes over your head, since it’s been years since you last took a biology course. But it’s not really what he’s talking about that keeps you focused on him, it’s how he talks about it that holds your attention. You’re fascinated by his passion for his work. His dedication to studying ocean life in order to preserve and protect it. It makes you wish you had a cause of your own to defend.

And then, of course, as the liquor catches up with him, he tells you all the gossip about the other crew members on his station - the hookups, the fights, all the little scandals that brought the drama to the high seas. Seokjin’s always been a good storyteller, knowing just what to say to keep you and Taehyung laughing.

“But what about you?” you ask when Seokjin pauses to stuff some pork belly in his face. “Did you have any flings with any of the other scientists? Hmmm? Dip your fishing rod in company waters?” 

“Gross,” Taehyung mumbles around a mouthful of beef bulgogi.

Seokjin shakes his head. “Nah. I didn’t click with anyone there like that. Honestly, we spent so much time together each day that by the end of it, I was dying to get away from most of them, which was really hard to do since we were basically stranded together in the middle of nowhere! So I spent a lot of my downtime hiding in my bunk, reading old research papers that I found in the station’s library.” 

“You read research papers for fun?” Taehyung looks horrified. 

Downing another shot of soju, you lean towards Seokjin, licking the peach-flavored drops from your lips. “Come on. You’re telling me you went an entire year without hooking up with anyone? Not even a little making out?” 

“Nope.” Seokjin pops the ‘p.’ At your incredulous look, he laughs, lifting his shoulders. “What? A year’s not that long! I made it just fine.” 

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, “it’s not that long. Besides, he was probably jerking off nonstop.” 

Soju flies out of Seokjin’s nose as you and Taehyung burst into raucous laughter. Seokjin scolds his brother, who argues back as he always does, telling the elder to loosen up, while you sit quietly, chin in hand, smiling to yourself as you watch the fireworks, realizing how nice it is to have Seokjin home again. 

He and Taehyung are pretty much a package deal. You’d met Taehyung first during your senior year of college. At the time, Seokjin was finishing up his graduate program at the same school, and his plans to move out of his and Taehyung’s apartment upon graduation and roll right into some field work had Taehyung feeling like he was being left high and dry. You’d ended up becoming Taehyung’s new roommate that summer, and then it had turned out that Taehyung’s worries were all for naught, because Seokjin still spent most of his free time hanging out at his (now your) place, anyway. 

You didn’t mind then and you don’t mind now. Seokjin’s a good balance to all of Taehyung’s extremes. Where Taehyung has his head in the clouds, Seokjin’s feet are firmly planted in the ground. Taehyung can be mercurial, even flaky sometimes, but Seokjin’s rock-steady.  They’re not complete opposites in everything, though. Just like his brother, Seokjin has a big heart. 

Once Seokjin runs out of steam, Taehyung shrugs. “I’m just saying, being with someone isn’t the only way to be satisfied. Just look at me. I’m single and I’m happy.” 

He looks almost smug as he states this, and something inside you snaps. The last thing you want to hear from Taehyung is another speech about loving yourself. You’ve heard plenty of those over the last few weeks. You do love yourself. 

You just wanted someone else to love you, too.

Pointing your chopsticks at him, you frown. “Oh, please don’t start! One, you were just dating a guy last month, so it’s not like you’ve gone an entire year without being with someone, and two, you literally just dragged me onto a freaking dodgeball team so you could start dating another! So I don’t want to hear any platitudes about embracing your singleness or anything like that.” 

Taehyung is silent for a moment after your outburst. “Sorry,” he finally says, poking at the remains of the kimchi on his plate. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Seokjin’s gaze bounces between the two of you. “I feel like I’m missing something.” 

Taehyung sees you nibbling on your bottom lip and he turns to his brother. “I can explain. Buttercup here-”

“Buttercup can speak for herself,” you interject, “and don’t call me that.” With a sigh, you slug back another shot of soju and look at Seokjin. He’s waiting patiently to hear what you have to say. “I was… kinda seeing someone a few months ago. And I thought that I had something with them, and it turned out that I was wrong. They didn’t feel the same way I did, so…” You trail off, not sure how to say ‘so I spent the last few months crying in my room over a broken heart.’

Luckily, Seokjin spares you this confession, nodding sympathetically. “I gotcha,” he says simply, and you nod back, stuffing some rice into your mouth so you don’t cry at the warmth in his expression. 

“I don’t know why you’re being so cryptic about who it was,” Taehyung frowns. “She’s talking about Yoongi.”

Something passes over Seokjin’s face quickly, so fast you almost miss it as you smack your roommate on his arm. He yelps in shock.

“What? He was going to find out eventually, they’re best friends!” 

You know this, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. Seokjin is actually the one who introduced the two of you, at the party he threw before he left for his research trip. You remember that night very clearly, can close your eyes and picture Yoongi standing there, with silver hair and silver hoops in his ears, dark cat eyes shimmering as Seokjin gave him your name, and you feel that same swoop in your stomach as you did then. Only now it comes with a painful twist of your heart as well. 

Falling for Yoongi happened so quickly. You’d immediately bonded over a shared love of hip-hop and whisky, spending the party huddled together on the couch, snarking over Seokjin’s music collection and liquor selection, talking until the sun came up and Seokjin started throwing everyone out. As you left, you’d asked Seokjin for Yoongi’s number. But before you even entered it into your phone, a text appeared from Yoongi himself. He confessed he’d asked Seokjin for your number as well.

“I haven’t talked to Yoongi-yah in a while.” Seokjin glances at you. “You know how hard it was for me to keep in touch. There’s no cell phone reception in the middle of the ocean, and the internet seemed to come and go at will. At least I heard from you two occasionally, but I didn’t hear from Yoongs except on my birthday, and we didn’t… you didn’t come up.” He looks apologetic as he says those last words, and your heart pangs again.

“It’s okay, why would I have?” you snort. “Like I said, it turned out to be a big bunch of nothing between us.” Despite what you thought. What you felt.

A server appears at the table to drop off the bill, and you welcome the interruption, wanting to go home and crawl into the safety of your bed again, feeling like it was a mistake to leave in the first place. Taehyung and Seokjin fight over who is going to pay, with Taehyung winning, practically throwing his card at the server, but you’re too distracted by your thoughts to enjoy the scene. 

Texting with Yoongi had turned into late night conversations. Going to concerts and bars to check out new musicians, doing whisky tastings and visiting distilleries. It felt like you were glued at the hip for a few months, and the more you got to know him, the harder you fell. Like the way you fell into his bed, over and over.

But nothing sticks out in your memory more than that last night, the last time you saw him, when you finally found the courage to tell him how you felt. You’ll never forget the sad look on his face. It told you everything you needed to know before he even spoke.

“Buttercup?” Taehyung’s voice pulls you from your reverie. “You ready to go?” He and Seokjin are staring at you, both on their feet already, waiting to leave. 

With a nod, you rise, and follow them out into the night. 

Despite the name, the Seven Slamurai consists of nine players. (When you asked why, Jimin rolled his eyes and said he’d tried to argue with Hoseok over the moniker, but Hoseok was insistent that the name stay true to his favorite movie.) In addition to Hoseok, Jimin, Seokjin, Taehyung, and yourself, there are four others at your first practice session on Monday night at the rec center - Wooshik, Sunghwan, Seojoon, and Hyungsik. You exchange a few quick greetings with your new teammates before Hoseok gestures for you all to sit on the bleachers. 

“Welcome everyone to our first team practice!” Hoseok smiles, clapping, and you lightly clap along until you realize no one else is. “Before we do some warm-ups, I thought I’d take a minute to explain the rules of the game, for those of you who haven’t played before.” 

He launches into an overview of the sport. Most of it is familiar from your school days, but there are a few things that are new, like something about a rush, and a neutral zone, and a burden ball? You glance around to see if anyone else looks confused. Most of the new guys wear bored expressions. It’s safe to assume they’re experienced players. To your left, Taehyung is whispering something to Jimin, completely ignoring Hoseok’s spiel. 

At least Seokjin, on your right, seems slightly dazed by the long list of rules that Hoseok’s rattling off. Now that you think of it, you’ve never seen Seokjin in any athletic context. As far as you know, he doesn’t play any sports, just like you and Taehyung, and he’s not a gym rat. So you have no idea what to expect from him on the court. Maybe he’ll be just as awkward as you’re expecting to be. 

“Any questions?” Hoseok finishes up. There’s a moment of silence from the group, and then he claps his hands. “Okay! Then let’s warm up a little.”

You move from the bleachers to a mat on the floor and Hoseok leads everyone through a series of stretches. It’s been a long time since you’ve done any, so you’re not surprised when your toes remain fully out of your reach. Jimin, on the other hand, has folded himself in half, forehead practically touching the ground as he holds on to both feet. Turning to Seokjin to make a comment, you’re surprised to find him in a similar position.

He catches you looking. “Yoga,” he explains with a wink. 

“Damn. Maybe I should start,” you grunt, giving up. 

“The games are played with teams of five, which means we’ll have four alternates for each match,” Hoseok explains once everyone’s limbered up. “For today, I’d like us to run through a practice game, four on each side. I’m going to stay out and watch, to help me get a feel for who might be a starter and who might be an alt.” 

The group splits in half, with you, Taehyung, Seokjin, and Jimin on one side, and the rest on the other. Hoseok stands at one end of the line in the middle of the court, where six balls lie waiting. 

“Okay, ready, set!” And with a sharp blast of the whistle hanging from his neck, Hoseok brings the game to a start. 

Immediately, Jimin and Taehyung run forward towards the center line, reaching for a ball each, while the other team mirrors their actions, rushing forward. But you? You freeze in the scramble, hands automatically coming up to shield your head. And as the first balls fly towards your side, you scream. 

And so does Seokjin.

“Shit!” you curse as one of the rubber balls bounces off your arm. That’s definitely going to leave a mark. 

“Fuck!” Seokjin yelps as he’s smacked in the shoulder by another ball. 

Tweet!

The action stops as Hoseok blows his whistle. His sunny smile is gone, replaced by an intense look, eyebrows furrowed, mouth turned down. It’s intimidating, especially since it’s aimed directly at you.

“That was… not bad,” he says slowly through gritted teeth, speaking as though the words hurt him. “But maybe this time, you two should try joining the opening rush? Remember, no one can throw a ball at you as long as you’re in the neutral zone, so you’ll have time to grab and get back out of the line of fire.” 

He glances from you to Seokjin, who nods as you grin in embarrasment. Great, you’ve already been identified as a weak player. You were hoping you could at least pretend to know what you were doing for a little while. Fly under the radar.

Taehyung wraps an arm around your waist. “Come on, ladybug, it’s not that scary. You just gotta jump in. Don’t think, just go.” 

You shake him off with a scoff. Easy for him to say. You saw the way he was running around the court a minute ago, taking to the chaos like a duck to water. Should’ve known he’d turn out to be a natural athlete on top of all his other annoyingly amazing traits. 

The game restarts, and this time you make an attempt to run towards the center line, but still hesitate, flashbacks of being pelted with balls running through your brain. Why did you agree to this? You always hated dodgeball in school! 

Seokjin, on the other hand, joins Jimin and Taehyung at the line, and scoops up a ball before dashing back to where you’re frozen. The balls start flying again, and once again you’re out before anyone else. After a few more minutes, Hoseok ends the play. 

“That was better!” he nods. “But let’s try it again, and this time maybe you can make it all the way forward, huh, YN?” His tone is encouraging, but his smile seems strained. 

As you shuffle back towards the end of the court, you nudge Jimin. “Is Hoseok okay? He looks a little stressed.” 

Jimin shoots you a lopsided smile. “He’s trying not to be as… intense… as he usually gets. We got kicked off our last team because he went a little overboard with his, uh, enthusiasm during the practice matches.” 

The whistle blows before you’re ready, and you decide to take Taehyung’s advice, so you bolt forward without thinking, snatch up a ball, and then back away, not wanting to turn your back to the men behind you. In doing so, you catch Wooshik’s eye, and he grins coldly, winding up. 

“Shit!” you yell, jumping out of the way in time. Taehyung dives in to catch it, sending Wooshik out of the game. But you’re not safe, as Seojoon takes aim next. Seokjin is next to you, trying to decide where to throw the ball in his hand, so you duck behind him, mimicking his movements. Eventually, he realizes he has a shadow.

“Are you using me as a human shield?” He bobs to the left. You follow.

“It’s not my fault you’re so broad!”

Seokjin honks a noisy mix of delighted laughter and insulted exclamation. Seojoon tires of waiting for you to emerge from behind Seokjin, so he pitches the ball forward, a low toss heading for Seokjin’s legs. Seokjin bends gracefully to catch the difficult throw, taking Seojoon out of the game, and as Seokjin doubles over, you snap the ball in your hands towards Hyungsik, hitting him directly in the side. Another ball rolls towards your feet, so you scoop it up and nail Sunghwan dead center of his chest.

And with that triple play, your side wins, with all four players still in.

There’s no whistle to end the game, as Hoseok’s mouth falls open, gawking wide-eyed at you. “She’s a sniper,” he whispers in an awed voice. Everyone turns to stare at you. 

“What?” you ask, looking around. “What did I do now?” 

According to Jimin, it’s tradition for the dodgeball teams to go out for drinks after practices and matches, so after hitting the locker room, the nine of you meet up at the Pied Piper, a quiet bar around the corner from the rec center. Thank god Taehyung convinced you to bring a change of clothes. You’d foolishly assumed you wouldn’t break a sweat, but you sure as fuck had.

Since the rec center isn’t that big, the practice schedules are staggered out, with only two other teams meeting on Wednesday nights - the Dodging Divas and Rock the Balls. By the time your team arrives at the bar, the others have already claimed most of the tables. As Taehyung and the others push the remaining tables together, Hoseok, Seokjin, and you sidle up to the bar to start ordering drinks. 

Once the bartender drifts away to start pulling drafts, Hoseok turns to you with a bright smile. “Congrats, the two of you are definitely going to be starters.” 

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement. 

“Me? Really?” you squeak, glancing at Seokjin, who also appears dumbfounded. “Why?” 

Hoseok leans against the bartop. “Look, I’ve been playing this game for long enough to know a strong arm when I see it,” he declares solemnly, tapping your bicep with two fingers. “I think with my help, you could be one of the best snipers out there. As for you,” he nods at Seokjin, “I think your flexibility is going to come in handy, like it does for Jimin. Also, I saw the way you two were working together on the court. If we can hone your skills, you’ll be an unstoppable duo for sure.” He grins. “The rest of the league won’t know what hit them, when the Seven Slamurai come through.” 

The bartender returns with the first three beers of your order, and Hoseok carries them away with another nod, leaving you and Seokjin staring at each other in silence. 

Then you both burst into laughter. 

“Is he for real?” Seokjin asks, eyebrows raised. The bartender sets more glasses in front of you, and he grabs one, taking a long sip. 

“I think so. I got the idea from Jimin that dodgeball means a lot to him, but wow. What he said is absolutely ridiculous, and yet… I do feel oddly inspired.”

“I know what you mean.” Seokjin grins. “Should we correct him, though?”

“About what?”

“Us working as a team. We weren’t working together so much as you were hiding behind me.” 

His grin turns teasing, and a retort builds itself on your tongue. But before you can fire it off, a figure at the other end of the bar catches your eye. One of the Rock the Balls gods. Namjoon, maybe? He nods at you, dimple popping as his lips curl into a slight smirk. You blink, then raise one of the glasses of beer in his direction.

Seokjin follows your gaze. “Friend of yours?” 

“Not really. One of the other teams’ leaders. We met at the sign up.” 

Seokjin hums, giving Namjoon a second look. He taps the bartop while you help yourself to one of the pints. “Hey, so what you were talking about at dinner the other night… about Yoongi? I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You should’ve known the subject would come back up. With a little shrug, you attempt a grin, but only succeed in a grimace. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I know. But I’ve also been where you are, having feelings for someone that go unreciprocated, so… I’m sorry. I know it hurts.” He pauses, gaze locked on the glass in his hand. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a total idiot.” 

“I’m not going to argue there,” you quip, letting out an airy laugh. "But I'm the one who imagined the whole thing, so really, I'm not any smarter."

He looks at you then, a sober expression on his face. “I mean it. He’s the idiot. Not you. So just - just don’t let his stupidity have any bearing on how you might think about yourself, okay?”

You blink, wondering if you’ve suddenly gone completely transparent, because he’s seeing right through you. How are you not supposed to take Yoongi’s rejection as proof that you’re unlovable? If you were lovable, then wouldn’t he love you?

“I… okay.” Nodding, you reach for the glasses that have been sitting in front of you for a few minutes. “Um. We should probably get these to the rest of the team before they get antsy.” 

Taehyung pats the seat next to him when you return to the group, and Seokjin takes the empty seat on your other side. “Hoseok just told us the good news,” he informs you, happily grabbing one of the beers in your hand. 

“What, that Jinnie and I are gonna be starters?” 

“That we are gonna be starters! You, me, hyung, Jimin-ah, and Hoseok-ssi.” Taehyung beams brightly as Jimin leans across him at the mention of his name. “He said we’ll work on our teamwork next practice, so we’re ready for our first match next weekend!”  

“Oh! Well, damn, look at us go!” You lift your glass and everyone else does the same. “Cheers!” 

“To teamwork!” Seokjin adds, eyes crinkling as he clinks his glass against yours. You grin back before taking a big sip. Maybe you’ll survive this season after all.

You’re not going to survive this season. 

“Come on! Faster!”

A shrill whistle blast sounds as you hit the wall, spinning around before running back towards the center line. It’s Thursday night, so you’re at practice again. Your team has been running drills for only ten minutes now, but you’re pretty sure you’re going to die, panting terribly as your toe hits the crosses the line.

“Pick it up!” Hoseok yells as you spin again, heading back for the end of the court. As your fingertips reach the wall, he blows the whistle again, and you flatten your palms, pressing your forehead against the cold cement. 

“I did not sign up for this,” Seokjin huffs next to you. “I signed up to dodge balls. This is not dodging balls!” 

“Are you two okay?” Taehyung is neither panting nor huffing as he eyes you both with concern.

“How are you not dying like us?! You don’t work out!” Yelling takes up too much of your oxygen, and you sink to the ground, legs folding underneath you. 

Taehyung shrugs. “It was only a few running drills. Nothing to get worked up over.” 

Unable to respond, you settle for giving him the evil eye. You jump as Hoseok’s whistle sounds again.

“If he doesn’t stop it with that thing, I’m gonna make him eat it,” you mutter under your breath. Seokjin’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as he reaches out a hand to pull you to your feet. 

Hoseok’s inner drill instructor doesn’t take a break when the practice game starts, alternates on one side, starters on the other. Somehow, he manages to run, catch, throw, and yell instructions the entire time, like a demented multihyphenate. It would be impressive if it weren’t irritating. 

You play a total of three rounds against the alternates. The first round is awkward, filled mostly with Hoseok’s manic shouting. At one point, he tells you to cover the right and Taehyung to flank the left, and as the two of you run to switch sides, you run smack into each other. The alternates win.

In the second round, things go better. There are no collisions, but there’s also not much cohesion, either. You try to repeat last practice’s winning move, ducking behind Seokjin, but he’s too unpredictable, jumping all over the place to try to catch throws, and you’re not able to keep from getting hit. Your team loses again.

When the whistle signals the end of the round, you head for the bleachers, where you’ve stashed a bottle of water and a towel, having realized last practice that both items were desperately needed. The rest of your team follows. 

“Well, this isn’t working,” Hoseok sighs, fanning himself with his shirt. “They’re kicking our asses.”

“Maybe - and just hear me out - yelling isn’t the way to motivate us?” Jimin suggests, tossing his sweat-soaked hair out of his face. You can practically see little hearts dancing in Taehyung’s eyes as he watches the motion.

Hoseok’s head twists towards his friend, but instead of swearing at him like you expect, he just stares. “I’m. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

Jimin claps him lightly on the shoulder. “Yep.” 

Hoseok stares for a few more seconds, and you’re on the verge of asking if he’s okay when he finally speaks. “Okay, new plan. Let’s just go out there and, ugh, have fun, okay?” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he leads Jimin and Taehyung back out onto the court.

Seokjin leans over. “If we lose, ten bucks says he snaps and eats that whistle himself.” 

You laugh, gently pushing Seokjin back onto the court. 

“Hey. Should we try that shield thing again?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I mean, I was trying last round, but you were kinda all over the place.” 

“I’ll try to be more obvious with my moves. Or I guess you can guide me? Just tell me which way to go.” 

You nod, and then you’re off, running for the center line as the round starts. Without Hoseok barking orders at the group, there’s a definite shift in the atmosphere. As you stoop to sweep up a ball, quickly diving behind Seokjin’s tall frame, scoping out your next target, it hits you - not a ball, but a thought.

You’re having fun.

Grinning wildly, you hiss “Left!” Seokjin immediately darts left, and you line up behind him, ready and waiting. A throw from the other team goes high, and Seokjin leaps towards it, snagging the ball out of the air. As soon as you peek out from around his side, you hit Wooshik, ball bouncing off his thigh with a satisfyingly loud “thock!”

“Yes!” Seokjin throws his hand out for a high five. You slap it quickly, ducking another toss. On your other side, Hoseok and Jimin make tandem catches, and the match ends with your team victorious.

“That was so much better! I really feel like we’re an actual team now,” Hoseok beams, looking genuinely happy again. “One more week of practice and then it’s match time!”

The others drift towards the locker rooms as Seokjin nudges you with his hip. “Did that work better for you this time?” 

“Yeah, it did. I guess that’s how it should always work, huh - me giving you orders and you following them blindly?” You wrap your towel around your neck, flashing him a cheeky grin.

Seokjin laughs, running his hand through his fluffy hair, which has gotten curly in the humidity from the game. Rather than spout off a snarky retort, he tugs on the ends of your towel, pulling you towards him. His deep brown eyes trail over your face, landing on your mouth, before his gaze snaps back to yours.

“That works for me,” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his plush lips. “Just say the word and I’ll follow.” 

And then he walks away. 

You stare at the locker room doorway that he disappears into for a good minute after he’s gone, mind racing. That’s not the first time the two of you have been that close - both Seokjin and his brother are very cuddly people, and you’ve always been comfortable with showing them affection in the form of warm hugs or snuggles on the couch.  

But whatever just happened was not that. The moment between you felt charged. Full of something like… possibility. 

With a sigh, you shake off the confusing thoughts and gather your things to head for the locker room, desperately needing a shower. And a drink.

© 2022 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

Taglist 1: @babycoffeefire; @parkdatjimin; @reliablemitten; @yuugehn; @ut-dixisti; @hesperantha; @seokjinger-ale; @bangtanintotheroom; ​​@taeshuworld; @nch327; @hannahbee12719ficrecs; @7minsuga96; @dvalitaes; @wonieclub; @thatlongspringnight; @miscelunaaa; @acquiescence804; @itsirisz; @velvetskize; @starbtslove; @ajw05; @bruisedscrewedandtattooed; @minesuga; @greezenini; @aznstoner; @jkkkkkay; @xuxibelle; @soeur-de-ame; @boraborabts; @signmybook; @bbl32; @codeinebelle; @here4btsfics; @itbtoblikethatsometimes; @kookprada; @addictedtohobi; @shatzkrinslinzki; @jaiuneamesolitaiire; @joonjulyagust-d; @jinsquishes; @btsgotjams27; @allamericanuniverse; @pleaseshutupsara; @guvgguk; @goodgollyitslolly; @laylasbunbunny; @goldensugarywaffles; @jadda98; @lovelye79; @moonacholy;

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KIM TAEHYUNG x GQ KOREA

Someone explain this to me:

My taste in men irl is quite healthy. I'm only attracted to souls that are kind and genuine; the wouldn't hurt a fly type. Embodiment of sunshine™

Meanwhile...my taste in fictional men is downright toxic. Only the most feral, disturbing and sadistic motherfuckers get simped for, like?? Wtf??

The Seven Kinds of Love

Words: 7984

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut

Summary: Love - an intense feeling of deep affection.

One; the first time you feel love for something other than Mr. Sprinkles, your stuffed rabbit, is at age five.  

Barely crawling from your mother’s embrace and still scared of skeletons in your closet; you were a tiny child with big dreams in the cruel world. Your parents shielded you from the harsh realities and you lived within a glass bubble but it was perfect.

One sunny afternoon, the playground looked like a dazzling place to be. So, you squirmed out of your mother’s embrace and despite your father’s worried shouts, you ran to the slide and Namjoon slides, quite literally, right into your life.

You bonk heads together and the first time you turn to him, your eyes are blurred through salt water. He’s startled when you begin to cry and he follows with his own wailing after. Both parents come running and when you point to each other, they exchange apologies. Your parents cradle you in your arms and you are sheltered before love could ever hurt you.

Keep reading

nexus (m) part 3

pairing: ot7 x f-reader | smut: taehyung x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest

summary: accused of murdering your best friend, you team up with a vengeful detective in an effort to uncover the secrets of the family you swore your loyalty to

characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 6k

warnings: explicit smut, rough penetrative unprotected sex, creampie, PRAISE KINK, degradation kink, dirty talk, lap dance, begging, petnames, some switch!tae action?, light choking, tae loves him sum ass, grinding, neediness/stuttering, oral (f), sexual tension, teasing, todays theme is LYING, manipulation, possessive behavior, mourning/fear, mentions of traumatic events, guns!, light violence/abuse, bad coping skills, drug use, obsessive themes, blackmail, gambling, psychiatric facilities and treatment **this is not realistic!!! the yandere is starting to show a lil oop, heartbreak, betrayal, but also like cute moments with tae, TWISTS AND TURNS BB this one kinda wild but not as wild as the next ones gonna be ;)

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

Lost in the soft crinkling of flames, a young Jeon Jungkook hides—fearfully quivering inside his pantry. Heart racing with fear, hatred, all boiled up into his shaking hands. They had come to his house, tearing through it like it was nothing. Jungkook could merely watch as these suited men with their large guns trashed his home, breaking everything left and right while he hid, helpless. Utterly powerless.

Dad—his mind is spinning.

So he ran. Through the narrow alleys of the outer city. Stacked thing between tall, worn-down buildings—factories, apartments, grey smoke clouding the dark sky lit only by a gold shadow.

A sick feeling in his gut. A nasty premonition sending warning through his veins. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pausing a moment to catch his breath. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t, not when sharp footsteps could be heard so near. He slipped behind a dumpster, hand pressed firmly against his chest as if it would muffle the pounding beats.

 “You think you can get away with what you have done?”

Jungkook peeked out, eyes widening as he saw his father—on the ground, face covered in bruises with pure fear in his eyes. Unable to see much else. From the sounds of it, there must have been two or three others, but speaking was only one.

“I—I’m sorry” His father pressed his palms together, begging for forgiveness. Shame burned through Jungkook’s cheeks as he watched his father lay on his stomach, reaching for the shoes of the man who addressed him. “Forgive me, sir”

“Taehyung-ah” The voice addressed someone else, “Is this him?”

No response was heard. A moment passed. Seemingly, the slowest couple seconds Jungkook had ever lived.

And then there were gunshots. Jungkook shoved the side of his hand in his mouth, biting down as screams overtook him. Tears poured down his face—he couldn’t watch. He hugged his knees to his chest, sliding down the rough walls.

He heard the man spit on his father. He waited until the right moment before peering over the side one last time to see who it was.

He didn’t recognize the man. It was too dark to see his face but there was a vicious hate in his eyes. An anger that elicited fear from any who saw. His eyes diverted then to a younger boy by his side, trembling as he clung to the man’s sleeve.

“Hyung stop, please” The boy, clearly traumatized, was balling. “Let’s go home hyung”

The man smirked, dusting himself off before he lifted the younger boy into his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, let’s go home now, Taehyung”

-

The precinct was dimly lit. A sickly sheen reflecting from grimy tiled floors, walls with peeling paint, haphazard desks, stacks of manilla files. At this late hour, only a few officers remained, the stench of tobacco making your nose scrunch.

Jungkook ignored their disrespectful ogles. That Jeon, lucky fucker—pretty girl in cuffs tonight. He hovered his palm over the small of your back as though he were shielding you from their judgement.

You didn’t want his protection.

The interrogation room had a deadening silence. Your mind scrambling, attempting to piece together your next play. Your next lie.

A large, mirrored wall stared back at you—face to face with your opponent for the night. Could you keep it together? Or would you let Jin tear you apart from beyond the grave?

Jungkook’s fingers danced on the back of your neck, making you shudder. Unconsciously you arced your back to his touch, shocks down your spine as he unclipped your choker. He held it in his palm for a moment. The annoyed look in those dark eyes of his, as his fingers traced over the diamonds.

“Are these real?” You knew your answer would only piss him off, so you said nothing. Instead he took a seat across from you. A small pile of documents in front of him.

In front of you was a small machine. A polygraph. Jungkook placed the sensors on the inside of your wrist, ignoring the way you trembled at his cold touch. He was being careful. Your tears had the effect you had hoped. You could tell. His small gestures—your sadness made him uncomfortable. Stepping away, he observed you carefully.

“Did you know Jin was seeing someone?”

Typical Jeon Jungkook, you mused. To the point. No bullshit. Except you weren’t prepared. His questionrang in your ears. He was seeing someone.

“I didn’t” You said it, because it was true. Thinking back to the night. The kiss that had been years in the making. The kind of thing that inspired song—filled childish dreams. The kiss that wakes the princess up from a poison slumber. Instead, Jin’s kiss pulled you into his nightmare.

Jungkook bit back a smirk.

“Who?” Your voice was embarrassingly hoarse. Jealousy lacing every word.

You knew Jungkook must be enjoying watching you suffer. You’d be damned if you’d give him the satisfaction. Your nails were digging into your palms—the pain distracting from the pulsing hopelessness beating through your veins.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

This was a game. It had to be. You didn’t know how—you didn’t know why. Somehow Jin was still fucking with you. Would he really have hidden something like that from you? A relationship. Had he loved them? Had he loved you? He said he did. Over and over and over again. You wondered if the meaning had faded.

Jungkook motioned to the document, “Namjoon didn’t want to force you into this marriage. Seokjin signed over Kim Enterprises to Namjoon in exchange for a promise of your engagement to Kim Taehyung, as well as control of Nexus—which is your mother’s company—right?”

The trick in poker, Jin had said—never let them know what you’re thinking.

Use pain. Focus on the most painful sensation in your body. It wipes your face of your real thoughts.

“I did not” The polygraph twitched.

“Interesting. Because all of these things combined give you a lot of motive to want Seokjin gone” Jungkook finally took a seat in front of you. “I wouldn’t blame you. They ruined my life too. Stole everything from me”

You stayed quiet. Jungkook was a new opponent. You weren’t familiar with how he played, yet.

“They killed my dad, ten years ago. Your mom disappeared too, didn’t she?”

Ten years ago. No bodies were found. No deaths declared. No explanation nor closure. Jin was there for you then, arms wide open to accept you in. Later the same year, Taehyung was sent away. You moved in immediately. You never asked why. You assumed it was what your mother would have wanted. The Kim’s took care of you, nursed you back to life. Jin, especially. He had always loved you so much.

Jin was seeing someone.

“Ever wondered what really happened to her?”

Your eyes were watery. Red with anger. You stared at him with hatred seething through your teeth.

“I know what happened to her”

The polygraph twitched. Jungkook grinned.

“Maybe we can help each other out then”

“Hi princess”

Jungkook released you shortly after. Walking out of the precinct, hands rubbing against the raw imprints of the cuffs, you saw a white sports car. Standing by the door with a dozen roses in his hand, was Taehyung.

Smiling softly, he welcomed you. He really was extremely attractive, eyes so magnetic you simply couldn’t look away. Pulling you into his space. He gave you a light hug—respectful yet comforting.

Jin died. He’s dead. “I need to go home,”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “I know” Is all he said. His eyes sparkled as he let his lips graze your forehead. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through”

Your heart pulsed. Taehyung had always been selfless. You crumbled into his kindness. Resting your face against his chest. Alone—the ungodly hour. The parking lot of the precinct. The faint sound of crows on the horizon.  

“I missed you” He exhaled, meeting your gaze. “You have no idea how bad I missed you, princess”

The petname stung. You wondered if it always would. For Taehyung, you were his princess. For you, you were Jin’s. His princess, his love, his everything.

Because Taehyung hadn’t been here. He left you.

“If you missed me, why didn’t you just come home?” Your voice was shaking. “You never called. Never wrote. You even missed the funeral”

Taehyung let the roses fall from his hand. Gently he stroked your back, swaying your body side to side.

“I promise I will tell you everything, but right now just let me hold you”

The moment retreated into silence. Nothing but the slight swing of your hips. Taehyung’s hands explored your back, stroking you gently. His steady heartbeat lulling you into a sense of ease. He kissed the top of your head, humming softly.

After some time, Taehyung cupped your cheek. You looked at him questioningly.

“Let’s get you home”

Yoongi arrived in the precinct the next morning. His eyes crusty, dark circles from the night he lay away—in front of his computer digging for the truth. He was obsessed. It occurred to him how pathetic he was being. An ex-boyfriend trying to prove his girlfriend’s fiancée was no good. He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t ready to let you go.

From his understanding, Park Jimin was a practicing psychologist. His age matched Taehyung’s—meaning the plausibility of Taehyung simply going under an alias was still there. He had no way to connect Park Jimin to the Kim family—at least not publicly.

But Yoongi had seen one too many serial killer movies. He thought of how brilliant it could be for someone to kill the only living person who knew what Kim Taehyung looked like to take his place. Whether he was right or not, he needed you to be safe. You were currently off with this man doing who knows what—the thought alone disgusted him.

He wanted to tear all the tiny fingers off that wretched heir. He wanted to burn him into the ground.

“Min Yoongi” The detective arrived in the room where he sat, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor. “You wanted to see me?”

“Hi sir—yes, you’re Jeon Jungkook right? The detective investigating Kim Seokjin’s murder?”

Jungkook nodded slightly.

“I was wondering if you had information on Kim Taehyung” Yoongi gulped, pulling out his phone. He slid it over to Jungkook who looked at the screen skeptically. “That man—that’s Park Jimin. But—” His voice was a stuttering mess. But Jungkook deduced what he was trying to say.

“This is Kim Taehyung” Jungkook grumbled. “Interesting”

“I couldn’t find a connection. I was hoping maybe you would be able to use police resources to see? I’m just worried. He could be Jin’s killer”

Jungkook took a seat, pulling out his laptop. After scrolling for some time he paused. Chewing his lip.

“Who else have you told about this?”

Yoongi shook his head. “N-no one, I noticed it yesterday. He has a tattoo that I don’t think he should have if he was really Kim Taehyung because Taehyung wasn’t there when his mom died and Y/n said that—”

Jungkook held his hand up, “Breathe” He instructed firmly. Yoongi gasped. His palms were sweaty. Eyes quivering. “Y/n—are you a friend of hers?”

Yoongi’s movements stilled. “Um, kindof.”

“Ah, so you were fucking her” Jungkook folded his arms over his chest. “So you had motive”

Yoongi huffed, “I wouldn’t be here if I had something to hide”

Jungkook hummed in agreement. “Well Min Yoongi…looks like you might be onto something. Park Jimin was a registered patient at the Children’s Correctional Clinic ten years ago. That’s when Taehyung left—isn’t it? It looks like they must have altered his identity to protect their family or something”

“I see…that makes sense, I guess.”

“Don’t poke holes, these guys don’t play around Yoongi” Jungkook warned, shutting his laptop. “They do stuff like this all the time. Digging will only put you on their radar.”

Yoongi nodded, thanking him for his time. He hopped into his car—googling Children’s Correctional Clinic on his phone.

He called the number.

“Namjoon” Hobi emerged from his room, nothing but a fluffy blue robe adorning his figure. Outside the window, the late morning sunrays of Paris glimmered through into the penthouse. Hobi never stayed in one place too long, but he made enough to have multiple permanent homes. He preferred the consistency. He had lots of things he liked to collect—he was a hoarder, if you will. “I cannot keep harboring a fugitive”

Namjoon sat at the piano, glasses on the rim of his nose, staring at the document in his hand. “You knew about this—and you didn’t tell me?” His hand was shaking.

In his hands was his mother’s will.

In his hands, was all he ever dreamed.

“He wasn’t exactly eager to share the information” Hoseok sighed, walking up to Namjoon. He curled his fingers around his shoulders, massaging him gently. “Took some persuading—God, you’re so stiff you need to relax. Stress looks horrible on you, Joonie”

Stepping away, Hoseok slid open a mini decorative jar, studded with little jewels. Inside was a small bout of white power. Taking the matching little spoon he poured a little bit out onto a tray. Reaching into his robe’s pockets, he pulled out a crisp hundred dollar bill. Rolling it up, he inhaled the powder quickly. “You want some?”

Namjoon ignored him, simply too stunned to react.

“Jin never got the company. I just never knew because he went to the will hearing while I,”

Hobi gave him a knowing look, “You need to forgive yourself. God knows she’s moved on. Honestly she’s better off for it, she’s killing it now”

Namjoon winced, recalling what he had done to you that night. It had all been for nothing—him crushing your spirit. The dirty deals he made with his brother the very next day, signing away things that were rightfully his—rightfully yours—without even realizing.

There could have been a different story. He could have gone to the will hearing. He could have had more faith in himself instead of stopping so low he needed to hurt Jin before he even had a reason. Maybe you would still like him. He would have learned to love you back. Maybe things could have been simple.

“He tricked all of us”

“That’s Seokjin for ya” Hobi sighed, walking over to the wall. It was decorated with a line of automatic rifles. No bullets, of course, but he liked to show off his collection. Reaching, he dismantled one. A personal favorite. A gift. Toying with the weapon in his hand, he smirked, “Greedy little fucker, that one. But Joonie I gotta ask, and you know I support you no matter what” He turned again. “Was it you? Did you kill your brother?”

Namjoon sighed.

“I don’t remember. But yeah, it’s possible”

The man at the clinic handed Yoongi a box. “These are all of our visitor logs from ten years ago. Hopefully that helps”

Thanking him, Yoongi immediately began digging through the files. He scanned the names of the visitors—until his eyes narrowed down—Kim Seokjin. So, he had been here.

Tracing the row with his finger, he noticed the patient Jin had come to see—patient ID 1230. Setting it aside, he pulled out another stack of files—room assignments. He located the patient ID, registered under KTH. Kim Taehyung. His roommate was patient 1013.

“Excuse me, do you know who I should talk to if I am trying to find someone who was admitted here?” Yoongi called out to the receptionist.

“Usually patient files are confidential, sir. But when most of our patients grow too old for our facility, they get transferred to another luxury facility, The Rose House.

“Perfect, thank you so much”

Everything reminded you of him.

The same steps you used to fall down. He’d reach out his hand, pull you up, not letting go until you’d stop crying. Your room—the doorway in which he would come in, leaning against the frame as he would ask you about your day. His room, where you would sneak into at night, snacks in your hand, getting high under the stars.

The bathroom where you stared at your own face. Instead, you saw him. Smiling. As he would place the choker around your neck. I got you this. Happy birthday, princess. Diamonds suit you. You gasped—turning the sink on. Letting it fill to the rim. You ducked your head down, letting the cool sensation cover your face.

You held your breath.

You won’t lose me, ever.

This was all your fault. Wasn’t it?

“Y/n!”

Dizzy—you blinked as a hand pulled you back. It was Taehyung, eyes quivering with worry.

“What the fuck” He mumbled, grabbing a towel, and wiping your face. You sighed, helplessly. The last thing you wanted was a confrontation. It was just something you liked to do—it helped you clear your mind. God knows what Taehyung thought he was walking in on.

Taehyung stared at you, dabbing your wet skin.

“You’re hurting” He said quietly. “I can see it in your eyes”

Stopping his movements, you shook your head. “I’m alright, Taehyung. Go back to sleep”

Taehyung pouted. You smiled immediately, remembering how bratty he used to be. He would hate seeing you sad—always wanting to see you smile.

“I honestly can’t sleep” He confessed, setting the towel aside. “It feels strange, being back”

You understood. Ten years was a long time—specifically to be the age Taehyung had been gone for. He was a little kid, and now he was a man. If you had met him on the street you probably wouldn’t have even recognized him.

“Do you wanna sleep in my room? I don’t really mind. It’s pretty fucking big” You chuckled. Taehyung gave an eager smile, nodding quickly.

“That would be great, noona” You scrunched your nose in distaste. Taehyung giggled. “No? No noona? Alright I’ll just stick to princess Y/n” He poked you playfully.

You rolled your eyes, pinching his cheek fondly.

Guns. Guards. Yoongi shuddered nervously as he stared at the facility gate. It looked less like a hospital, more like a resort. He would expect nothing less for the Kim prince.

“I’m here to see Kim Taehyung” The words left his mouth before he could even process them.

“Right this way” Yoongi exhaled in relief. He followed the receptionist into the space. Palm trees all around. A group doing yoga. Another painting flowers. Some people simply meditating on their own.  

Not a bad set up. Yoongi mused.

“Mr. Kim isn’t in this wing” The receptionist noticed Yoongi looking around, confused. “We keep extreme cases in the basement”

The basement. He followed the receptionist down a dark series of stairs. Opening the door, he squinted. The white light was nauseating. Slick like a hospital, nurses scurrying about. The rooms were glass. Walls plain.

Just looking at it made him feel crazy.

 “Don’t worry, they can’t see you” Yoongi stared at the patients, each in their own space, some crying, some screaming, some staring aimlessly into space. “They’re treated well. Get to go outside, supervised, at scheduled times. They eat, sleep. See their doctor. All from rich families so, money serves them good”

They halted at the end of the hall. Yoongi peered into the room. A man sat on the bed, legs crossed casually, reading a book.

Yoongi’s eyes widened. The resemblance to his mother was uncanny.

“Buzz if you need anything” The receptionist walked away. Gulping, Yoongi carefully opened the door.

The man’s eyes shifted in his direction. Carefully he set the book down.

“T-Taehyung?”

He stared at Yoongi for a while. As though he was trying to figure out who he was. Finally, a smile crawled onto his face.

“Ding ding ding” His grin widened, “We have a winner”

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Fingers tracing the lacey ends of the stockings as you pulled them up to the top of your thighs. The small floral pattern, dainty and delicately crafted, fit for an angel.

Your lips quivered at the irony.

Jin had bought it for you. Jin had bought a lot of things for you. Gifts or on request. He never denied you of anything material thing you could ever want.

The bathroom was cold, as the stocking did little to subdue the goosebumps running up and down your legs. You shivered, reaching for your lip gloss—the final touches.

Taking a deep breath, you exited the bathroom. Your long white stilettos knocking against the tile. There was less light in the room, only the dim halo from your bedside lamp.

Taehyung sat on the bed, thighs spread, leaning back against his wrists—waiting for you, patiently. He suggested a nice dinner. The two of you had gotten to know each other a little better. From what you could gather he was very observant. A great listener, and an amazing person to get comfort from.

“You look…amazing” Of course—that had been your intention. Taehyung wanted to talk—but you were tired of talking. He made you feel good. He made you feel seen.

Taehyung himself looked delectable—white shirt tucked into tight black jeans. Approaching him you ran your fingers through his hair.

“You clean up real nice yourself”

He traced the strap on your shoulder. You could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Your hands glazed over his thighs before you slid to your knees.

“Wait what are you—”

You flattened your palms, running them across his legs as you blinked at him innocently. His breath quickened, watching in awe as you stood up again, crawling into his lap.

“Something wrong?” One by one you popped his buttons open, not letting your eyes leave his. Your fingernails scraped against his chest, making him hiss.

“Princess” He warned, still not moving. You unzipped his jeans, hooking a finger into his belt loop before sliding back down to your knees—taking his pants with you. You kissed the tops of his knees, travelling up his thighs as he shuddered.

Your fingers fanned out over his bulge. Taehyung cursed inwardly. You wanted to put on a show for him. Wanted him to need you so bad he couldn’t take it. Because you wanted him. Wanted to feel him everywhere. Taehyung leaned forward suddenly, tilting your face up. Thumb tracing your lip. You stuck your tongue out, wrapping his thumb in between your glossy lips.

He watched you suck on his thumb obscenely.

“Stop” His voice was stern. He was not fucking around. He looked serious in a way that gave you chills. “We shouldn’t”

You released him. You were tired of being told no. What was the point of all the wealth—all the luxury—if you couldn’t have what you wanted? Was it so wrong—was it so fucking wrong for you to want to sleep with your fiancée? The man that your lover was forcing you to marry—the man who you barely knew?

“Please” You pressed your chest against his, pulling his face into your neck. His nose traced your jaw as he inhaled sharply. Hands finding your lower back.

“Please fuck me” Your lips dragged against his ear, making him shudder. Voice barely above a whisper. Seductive—as you rolled your hips teasingly.

You asked so nicely, there was no way he would say no.

A low growl left Taehyung’s lips. He immediately stood up, lifting you by your thighs. He tossed you down onto the bed, quickly climbing over your frame. Vicious—desperate—his lips found yours, tugging at them. Tongue piercing through, swallowing you in. His fingers gripping your legs, pulling them apart, nails digging into your flesh as he slotted himself where he wanted.

“You bitch” He breathed out, rolling his hard cock against you. “Such a fucking tease”

You mewled, wrapping your legs around him. The friction sending shocks through you. His touch was electric, grabbing handfuls of your ass as his lips slanted across your jaw. He scented all over your neck, nipping your skin.

“Here I am trying to be so good to you, but you’re such a little slut” You cradled his head against you, moaning out as he nibbled your ear. Heat pulsed through your chest, down between your legs.

“Yeah I am. And what are you gonna do about it?” You smiled against him, knowing he could feel it. You arced your back, allowing him to unzip your little dress. He slid it off you in a swift motion, tossing it aside.

Hovering over you, his eyes scanned over your body—licking his lips. His fingers traced your panties, slipping inside briefly. He grinned watching you blush—your wetness leaking against the flick of his finger.

“So wet for me. So needy—fuck” Immediately he climbed back over you, latching his lips to your chest. He kissed you all over—mouth open wide, sucking and tugging at your flesh. You gasped—legs failing in the air as he continued to trail his kisses down your stomach. Dragging your panties to your knees, he pressed his nose between your legs. Heat burned through your face.

You reached for him, grabbing a handful of his hair. He carefully licked your throbbing folds. Twitches overtook your body as he drank you up. Tongue slipping deep inside you. His fingers tracing your stockings, holding your thighs up over his shoulders.

“T-taehyung” You screamed, gasping loudly as pleasure seized every fiber of you. Abruptly he pulled away, causing you to whimper.

“Don’t” He gritted his teeth, “Don’t call me that”

You gulped, “What do you want me to call you?”

Taehyung seemed to ponder it for a while. “Anything just—not my name”

You would have questioned it more, except he shed his boxers. His cock eager for you. He towered over you, aggressively jerking along his length. You propped yourself up, licking the tip cautiously.

Your panties painfully jut into your thighs, but Taehyung lined his cock up with your folds. He let a glob of spit fall onto your clit before rubbing it all over. You panted heavily, sweat collecting on your forehead. Eyes clenching shut as you felt his tip burn into you.

“Look at me” Taehyung growled, reaching for your neck. He gripped it tightly, forcing you to watch as he pushed his length in.

“F-fuck” Your eyes rolled back. Pain shot through you, your legs trapped. Taehyung didn’t care. He groaned loudly, hissing curses as he bottomed out. Without another thought, he began to pummel into you. The slippery noises making you dizzy with need. His fingers wrapping fully around your neck, nose brushing against yours. The bed creaked under you. His cock twitching as he fucked. In and out. Hitting you deep in your core.

“Princess” He sighed loudly, lost in the sensation of your tight cunt, squeezing him for all he was worth “You don’t know h-how much I wanted this—how bad I prayed for this, Y/n—I always wanted you so bad. So bad”

His words sputtering as he began to pump you even faster. “Wanna fuck you all the time. Want you so bad princess—this is all I want. Wanna cum inside you, make you all mine—fuck—you’re all mine princess, you always were”

Wet skin echoed through the room. The feeling of his cock filling you up just right. Sutffing you deep before he’d slam his hips, fucking into you again.

“You wanted me to take you like this, just always looking so pretty to fuck—that pretty little dress you had on—your little games—just wanted my fat cock in this little cunt didn’t you? Didn’t you princess?”

He chuckled, tightening his grip on your neck. “Dressing up pretty for me. Begging for my cum. Go on, beg for it princess. Tell me what you want” Releasing his grip you gasped for air.

“Please cum inside me baby” You traced his face fondly, “You feel so good”

Taehyung smiled wickedly, “Yeah? Huh? You like this?”

You nodded, kissing him deep. “I love it baby” Taehyung’s hips jerked.

“Yeah you do. Fuck.” He sped up, eyes rolling back in pleasure “Take it. Take my cum—fuck—gonna fuck you so deep”

You moaned against his lips. He shuddered, grabbing your hips as he spilled inside you. Panting heavily, he buried his face in your chest. You too were out of breath, twitching with pleasure.

Taehyung kissed your shoulders, staying nestled inside your warm folds. He rolled over, holding you close. “You’re amazing” He sighed before kissing your lips again—this time soft, sweet. “You’re everything I dreamed of”

You smiled weakly. “That was really good Taehyung” You noticed him flinch at his name. “Thank you”

Taehyung kissed your cheek. “I can’t say no to you” His breath steadied, Pausing for a moment, he continued. “But we should have waited. You’re going through a lot. Now, I’ve loved you for a long time, I thought about you every day I was gone. But for you, this is sudden. This is fast. I understand that” He gazed at you as though you were so incredible, so precious, it made your heart melt.

“You were being forced to marry me” He cleared his throat, tracing your lips, “But I want you to want me. Want you to love me like I’ve spent the last ten years loving you”

What you had felt for Jin—it was strong. Overwhelming. Made you want to fall to your knees in defeat.

But Taehyung was here. He was the calm in the storm. The two of you were connected. And at the end of the day,

Jin was dead.

And you didn’t want to hurt anymore.

Yoongi couldn’t even believe his eyes. He sat at the foot of Taehyung’s bed after explaining who he was, watching as the heir flipped to the back of his book. There was a section carved out—filled to the brim with small white pills.

“They were drugging me. To keep me here”

“Oh my god” What the hell did he just get himself into? Yoongi thought about the test he could be studying for instead of acting like a maniac. It was your fault. You made him like this. He would only do these things for you.

Taehyung shrugged “Figured it out, eventually...so I stopped taking the pills”

Yoongi didn’t know what to say. Ten years. The thought alone creeped him out. Being trapped in a place like this. The kind of trauma this would cause a person—it was beyond cruel. They might as well have killed him off.

“Why?”

Taehyung blinked blandly. “I saw something I shouldn’t have. So they sent me away. Convinced me it wasn’t real”

Yoongi felt queasy. He knew the Kim family was fucked up—but this was bizarre, even for him. “I’m so sorry” Truly, he didn’t know what else to say.

Taehyung scoffed, “Few years ago, Dr. Park got assigned to me per my guardian’s request. Put me on new meds—the wrong meds”

A few years ago—Yoongi pondered, maybe around when Chairwoman Kim died? Could Jin have orchestrated all of this? Yoongi wouldn’t put it past the lying bastard.

“I guess using whatever you’ve told him, Dr. Park convinced everyone that he’s you” Yoongi confessed. Taehyung didn’t react. “He stood in for you at your engagement”

“Engagement?” Taehyung tilted his head. Did he not even know?

“To Y/n”

The name made his eyes widen. The book fell from his hands. Pills scattered everywhere. Still. Motionless, he stared at nothing.

“Sir” Jungkook groaned as an officer approached him. He hated being interrupted when he was focusing. He hadn’t heard from you—he wondered if you had considered his offer. Together he was certain he could tear the Kim family to pieces. They deserved nothing less, not after what they did to him, you, and who knows how many others. In his pocket was your diamond choker. His fingers traced the rough edges of the jewels.

“What?”

“Min Yoongi is here again to see you” Jungkook groaned, rolling his eyes. The last thing he needed was to waste time on a jealous ex-boyfriend of yours and his conspiracy theories.

Jungkook walked out towards the interrogation room. Stepping inside, he immediately noticed the another man. Tall, extremely handsome, messy black hair and sickly pale skin. Eyes thin, sinister. A face somewhere between bored and amused, Jungkook couldn’t quite tell.

Jungkook shifted his gaze to Yoongi, unphased. “What now Mr. Min?”

“Detective Jeon. Meet Kim Taehyung”

Jungkook inhaled as Yoongi went on to explain how he tracked the young heir down. He watched the man carefully. The man stared at him right back. He felt something tight in his throat.

It was a power play. The man was unwavering, but Jungkook wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. So we meet again Kim Taehyung. It’s been a while.

When Yoongi finished his story, Jungkook simply shrugged “Prove it”

The man smirked, eyes dropping, scanning Jungkook’s figure up and down with intrigue.

“I know who killed your daddy”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jungkook continued to glare at him, fists clenching. He did bear the resemblance. The twisted look in his eyes was a classic Kim trait after all.

Jungkook rolled his tongue in his cheek. This isn’t good.

“Yoongi, you and Taehyung stay here. I want you both under police protection. I will go get Y/n and make sure she is safe. Then we will figure out how to prove all this and arrest Park Jimin. Maybe he’s connected to the murder, maybe he isn’t”

Yoongi gave Jungkook a look. Taehyung tilted his head. “What murder?”

Oh. Jungkook tapped his finger against the table lightly. “Your brother—Kim Seokjin, was murdered”

Taehyung’s jaw clenched. “Hyung? He’s dead?”

Both Yoongi and Jungkook stared at him, unsure how to proceed. “Yeah, and right now the evidence points at Y/n—but I don’t really believe she is responsible”

Taehyung cleared his throat, “What about Namjoon? He’s alive isn’t he?”

Jungkook nodded and Taehyung let out a sigh of relief.

“You do know” Yoongi started, “That your mother is dead—right?”

Taehyung’s face fell. Jungkook glared at Yoongi, who bit his tongue. Idiot.

“I didn’t know that” Taehyung exhaled slowly. Blinking a few times, he looked up at Jungkook. “Take us with you. She won’t believe you otherwise”

Jungkook frowned slightly. He pondered a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another second in proximity with a man that witnessed his father’s murder. The man who pointed his finger and caused it. But he had to be careful. He had to think smart.

“Fine”

Waking up in Taehyung’s arms was a dream. You felt light—weightless and free. He smelled like heaven, his warm body radiating onto you. Staring at his face, you observed his features closely. His eyelashes, his adorable nose, pouty lips. You remembered how he had a little spot on his face. Tilting his head to the side you searched for it.

Hm. You pursed your lips when you didn’t see it. Maybe he was still wearing some makeup. Taking his hand in yours, you began to kiss the pads of his fingers.

You saw his tattoo. Weird. You remembered Namjoon and Jin going together to get their family crest ingrained on their bodies. It had been a melancholy moment. A healing moment where you began to wonder if those two brothers could find love in each other ever again.

Maybe Taehyung got it when he was gone. He never did tell you why he never came back when his mom died.

You wondered if Jin would go visit him.

Jin.

Your heart began to sink into a deep pit. The screams came back to your ears.

“Fuck you—you liar” You screamed, hands trembling around the gun.

“Stop acting so innocent Y/n” Jin snapped, “You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to?”

You froze.

Jin let out a shaky breath, face red with anger “I was trying to protect you. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do” He stepped closer. Closer. And closer. Until you could feel him. Feel the betrayal in his eyes. The gun slipped from your hands.

“You would have taken everything I had” You growled. “You lying piece of shit”

“You don’t understand—Nexus is dangerous. You shouldn’t be anywhere near it”

“That’s not for you to decide!”

Jin slapped you clean across the face. Your jaw dropped, the pain stinging from impact—deeper in your chest when you processed what he had done.

“That’s enough” A deep voice cut through. A wave of relief crashing over you. Footsteps neared—they were hurried, angry. You shut your eyes.

Something shattered. Your eyes opened. In front of you a man stood, raging. Jin was on the floor, blood on his eye. Jin laughed.

“Nice of you to join us, Hoseok”

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a/n: get ready bc the next part is jimin's pov baby ;) send your theories! would love to know what yall think <3 (begs for feedback)

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