Random Jimin Moments That Put Me In A Casket ⚰️

i already fell for the tiny angel and devil jin designs and now you’re telling me they have pockets too??? im sold jin, u got me 😭

The Light of Dead Stars (05) | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x (f.) Reader; side Seokjin x (f.) OC; side Reader x Namjoon

Genre/Tags: arranged marriage, fake romance, boss/workmate aus; angst, drama, fluff, smut; slow burn

Chapter Warnings: Foul language, alcohol consumption; deceit; talks of past toxic relationships (infidelity, emotional abuse); Jin gets a kitchen injury, mentions of blood (18+)

Chapter Word count: 10.6k

Series Masterlist | Muse Moodboard | Setting Moodboard

Status: Ongoing

Series summary:  Your unconventional arranged marriage with your company’s President, Kim Seokjin, is necessary, practical, and simple - both your families benefit, and he minds his own business and so do you. But when a slip-up causes his parents to believe that you and he are in love, you have no choice but to pretend you are, especially with the trip to France for his brother’s wedding coming up. When you get back to Seoul, things start to change, and Seokjin is faced with the most difficult decision he has to make.  

A/N: It’s their last few days in France, the last chapter before things get even messier. Thank you to those who’ve been tuning in! I hope the complications and emotional roller coaster will be worth it.

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18 DAYS OF HOSEOK - hosted by CYPHERNET ∟ Prompt 9: Favorite Dynamic - SOPE (cr. namuspromised, 3cmgoogie) 

+ videocall bonus

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)

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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”

⟵|| previous || next ||⟶

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

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)

also you're hot and dont you forget it! thanks for reading :) <3

Beyond— Prologue | KSJ

The greatest mystery is the unknown.

✫ Pairing: Astronaut!Seokjin x DNA Specialist!Reader

✫ Genre: angst!!!!, future fluff, future smut

✫ Rated: A for Anew 

✫ Warnings: gets kinda meta, mentions of major character death, major character deaths (yes plural) but… tune in for chapter 1 (don’t get too sad!), mentions of ptsd and anxiety, this is very sad please get tissues friends (I promise the whole series ain’t like this at all :’D)

✫ Word Count: 4.2k

✫ Series Summary: A man from beyond with claims he’s come from another world. Not another planet, another world. Earth. A man on a mission, with only one purpose. You. 

✫ Chapter Summary: It was a giant leap for mankind… A chance to see the impossible. They doubled, triple checked the numbers. The numbers didn’t account for the unexpected. A look into the beyond. It was him, he was the chosen. 

✫ Now Playing: Starboy by The Weeknd (ft Daft Punk) and Frequency by Kid Cudi

✫ Betas: Thank you so much to @xxxanimangxxx and @mashajlynn for reading over this!

✫ Author’s Note: This story is brought to you by your local space nerd! Get ready for the ride y'all! We got the angst a comin~ Fun fact— got this idea when I visited NASA last year :3 Happy Birthday to the best star boy, please enjoy your third decade celebration and I promise the rest of the parts will be out for this soon! 

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

Masterlist coming soon (around 5 estimated chapters)

Everybody loved him. His face was plastered on everything space related you could imagine. Hats, tshirts, cups, dining sets, plushies, buildings, a space station for fucks sake, they even made underwear with his charming smile all over it. 

No one complained about it though, because it was his face. Kim Seokjin. A beloved astronaut of the solar system. 

One of the first things that caught everyone’s attention was the charming face underneath that helmet. Dark brown hair, kissable lips, eyes that just made you fall in love. He was a walking dreamboat. He was a part of a new class of astronauts and the handsome Kim Seokjin was already loved by the world even before he ever set foot outside the solar system. 

But nope, if a handsome face wasn’t enough, the minute he was approved to head into space, it was hard to believe he was one person. 

Scientific discovery after scientific discovery, improvements, theories, the whole shebang. In truth, from that alone you wanted to hate him. Mr. Perfect. It was annoying. Seokjin this, seokjin that, at some point you should get tired of it right? But nope, no matter how much you tried, as an astronaut yourself, you couldn’t help but admire him. 

Not even just that, but you guys were close. No… not like that, he was just a good friend of yours. Yep, a friend, a great friend. Dare you say one of your best friends? 

He probably never thought about you as such, constantly being surrounded by some of the greatest minds mankind has ever seen, you were sure that there were plenty of people he got along with better. You even saw it once. 

A gala for all astronauts happened one day, you had been there, and of course, he had to as well. Surprisingly, for a good part of the night Seokjin was right by your side, you smiled, laughed, and drank together. 

It was weird, before this night the two of you mostly hung outside of your work environment, he's been to your house, you’ve been to his… this was the first time you had made your friendship known to the public. Part of you worried about the press, the headlines **KIM SEOKJIN’S GIRLFRIEND??** But no, by the end of the night a group of other highly renowned astronauts, astronomers, and many other scientists were his company by the time you were leaving. No headlines.

As you were walking out you saw how happy they looked and you could only imagine the intellectual conversations they had that night. Honestly, you were just happy he spent time with you at all being the big shot that he was.

Part of you still always found yourself hoping for more. 

Well, at least you did before it happened. 

Seokjin remembered that day with painstaking detail, it was the worst day of his life after all. 

You had made a discovery that made you so excited, you had bounced on the balls of your feet when you came up to tell him about your findings.  

L/n Y/n… fuck even saying your name made his heart hurt. 

You were on the cusp of one of the greatest discoveries science has ever seen. As an astrobiologist, traveling to different planets and studying its life was your job. Society had so far not found much besides a few plant-like species on a couple of distant planets, but intelligent life still remained undiscovered. You were about to change that, at least that’s all you told him before you were making your request to head up into space and check it out. 

Seokjin hardly had time to say goodbye to you before you were in the rocket ready to prove if your theory was correct. 

It happened so fast, so fucking fast. Seokjin was there… he watched the launch happen right there in mission control. He could never forget your voice on the intercom, you were so excited. 

The entire solar system had seen the tragedy. Media coverage was expected with the claims you had made— details were mostly kept under heavy security. He was proud of you, you were about to truly change the world, he was already picturing the headlines as he was about to leave mission control. 

L/N Y/N  found proof that we are truly not alone. 

He had a big smile on his face, right up till it happened. Launch was routine, you made it to the atmosphere and were all clear to jump. At this point, the most concerning part was over and he was about to leave…

That’s when the sirens went off. They were ultimately useless. What the world expected to see was your ship jumping through the wormhole, sailing off on an expedition that was about to change humanity. Instead they saw you enter the portal but space seemingly bending and twisting before an explosion. It wasn’t big, loud, or anything spectacular as one would expect, but it was as if the entire portal itself disintegrated and collapsed in on itself. 

Seokjin remembers how quiet it was that day in mission control. He remembered the desperate attempts to reach you, hoping a miracle had happened and you made it to the other side. He remembered the panic, that heart sinking feeling knowing that the worst had happened. 

It happened so fast too… 

For a few days he just didn’t want to believe it, holding out hope just like mission control was. Maybe somehow you made it?

Well a few days after the accident a crew aboard a ship found a piece of your space craft. Hope died almost instanteously. 

For a few years after that, space travel to that scale halted completely, everyone confused and terrified after the accident. Space used to be like a second home to Seokjin, but after the accident it became just as scary as it was to most people. A vacuum that wouldn’t hesitate to let you know who ruled. 

It took awhile but after a thorough investigation they found out what happened. The details still were fuzzy, teams and teams of scientists tried their hand at uncovering the details, he did as well, but the mystery of the accident remained vastly in the dark. 

The wormhole that was opened was unstable, the dark energy that was used to keep it open long enough to make it to the other side had dropped to low levels and collapsed in on itself. What they didn’t know was why that happened, why that wasn’t detected beforehand, and why hadn’t the incident resulted in a black hole if that was truly what occured? 

None of it made sense. There was an internal investigation on everyone at mission control that day to see if there could have been malicious intent on clearing that Y/n was good to go through despite the unstable conditions, but it didn’t take long to see that that wasn’t the case. The records show that data matched ideal conditions. No one could really figure out what went wrong. 

It took a while for far away missions to resume and it took even longer for Seokjin to eventually join back in on the missions. Your death hit everyone hard, the entire solar system grieved your loss, but for reasons that became too obvious after you were gone made it harder for Seokjin to just ‘move on.’

Everytime he walked into headquarters he would remember seeing your face, whenever he’d walk to the astrophysicist department, he’d think about the way you’d cheer for him anytime he’d leave for launch. You were always there in Mission Control watching, you were always there for him. Going back was too hard without you there. 

The first time he went back to headquarters he had a mental breakdown when he didn’t see you in the lab. A bunch of new faces he didn’t recognize and none of them were you. 

But eventually, his work on earth was not enough and he needed to go back out for field research. They were small missions at first, a trip to the far out planets’ moons, then to the neighboring solar systems, his furthest for a while was at the far out base nearly on the other side of the galaxy. 

He didn’t like traveling too far, as much as headquarters proved whatever happened to you was a freak accident, each time he left home he feared he would suffer the same fate. Years passed, but you were always on his mind, sometimes he even swore to see you in mirrors and windows, he even swore he saw you walk into your old department, the door swung open and everything but as he rushed inside all he got was concerning glances from all the nameless scientists inside. 

He had long been diagnosed with PTSD, it only coming months after the accident and was another reason he had been grounded for so long– he couldn’t pass the readmission screening. Lots of therapy made him realize these apparitions were likely just his mind still processing the trauma, as much as he wanted to hope you were out there still.

It was mission control that sort of “insisted” him to get back on the job and he knew that they eventually forcefully passed his rescreening. He was better than before, but not near where an Astronaut of his nature should be at. He would sometimes see you in empty seats reflected off the windows of the spacecraft whenever he’d launch. He wasn’t fine but he pretended to be.

Despite his instability on October 16th, 4122 all over the news they blasted the most basic details of his upcoming mission. A team of seven, him included, would be tasked with studying a black hole up close for the first time ever, Sagittarius A, the supermassive one at the center of the galaxy. 

On launch day he was so nervous, too nervous really. The last time the news was this big, he never saw you again. It was a strange experience, he smiled and tried to be optimistic in front of the cameras and any interviews he had about the mission, but there was this sense of dread that wouldn’t leave him as he prepared. 

Seokjin had tried to back out of the mission multiple times— he tried to tell mission control he was not cut out for a mission like this, but they insisted he go. He was one of the heads in charge of conducting the study and he was also one of the most experienced astronauts on the team— he really had no choice but to go.

Before he could even realize he was on the ship, “The Beyond,” and they were staring into the wormhole that was to take them straight to the center of the galaxy. 

He had mission control in his ear telling him to calm down, they were monitoring his heart rate, but as they prepared to enter, his anxiety had gotten so bad and he started to shake so much that he had to get one of the junior astronauts on the mission to take over. 

“Uh— this is mission control— Seokjin we’re picking up on an elevated heart rate— please confirm you’re alright— over.” He heard over the intercom as he tried to do the breathing exercises he talked about with his therapist. 

“Copy, This is Seokjin, just nervous.” He faintly laughed and the rest of the crew joined in. 

“How many times have you been out here, what’s making you so nervous?” Jungkook, the junior astronaut who took over for him asked. 

Part of him wondered if he should lie or make light of the situation but as he stared at the wormhole he couldn’t joke about this. 

“I keep thinking about her.” It was a simple answer, cut throat, but he was honest, painfully so. His heart ached so much and facing the very thing that killed you was almost too much to bear. 

The only reason he hadn’t broken down was he had an image to upkeep and he couldn’t be one of the senior astronauts acting that way. He couldn’t drag the rest of his team down. 

The mood immediately turned sour at the mention of you. Most of the crew onboard had been there when the accident happened— they all knew how close you both were. 

No one said anything, there really wasn’t anything to say. Instead, Jimin, another astronaut on the team, floated over and lightly rubbed his arm. 

“Alright mission control, we should be prepared for launch on our end.” Jungkook said happily and everyone started to head back to their seats.

“Beyond, take off will begin in t-2 minutes, over.” 

That dread was horrible. It was so bad that even after they launched and were staring for the first time ever with human eyes, the black hole that we’ve been circling around for eons he still didn’t feel anymore at ease.

The whole thing had been broadcasted, mission control lightheartedly told them the emotional reactions from people all over the solar system and that those living on the moon base had taken pictures and videos of the whole launch process. 

Everyone was in good spirits but Seokjin as they began to step up all the equipment. They were at a good distance away from the black hole, far enough away they wouldn’t be at risk of getting pulled into its gravitational field, but they got as close as they could in order to conduct their research. 

That feeling, that sense of dread that he tried his best to ignore for the sake of the mission would not go away. It was only 4 days after their study started that he found out why. 

EMERGENCY

EMERGENCY

EMERGENCY

The sirens continued by blare, mission control had started to break up, and the crew was frantic. The impossible had happened. 

Only Seokjin had been awake at the time monitoring some numbers. That dread he’d been experiencing had made it hard to sleep so instead he occupied himself with the work he enjoyed, it kept him awake and his mind busy. 

It was so sudden that Star, the A.I. program on the ship, had alerted him of an anomaly. 

“Seokjin, there seems to have been a shift in the gravitational field.” She pointed out. At first he didn’t believe her, thinking at first maybe one of the instruments had malfunctioned or something had damaged the equipment, but as he looked out the window a horrible reality began setting in. 

Seokjin had stared at the black hole for a while, trying to see if he had gone crazy or not. He’d been staring at the black hole for 4 days straight and he knew it wasn’t that close the last time he checked. 

He’d gone ahead and got everyone up after that. 

“It’s not just me right.” He asked everyone as they all sleepily rubbed their eyes and looked out the window. 

“That’s strange— but we can easily set ourselves back in course. Hobi, Yoongi, try to see if you can move us back.” Namjoon— the official head of the mission ordered the pilots. 

They both nodded before getting into position. Mission control had picked up on the strange occurrence as well and had agreed with Namjoon’s plan. 

Everyone thought this would be a simple fix, even Seokjin had calmed down slightly thinking this was just one of those weird stories he’d have to tell later, but the minute he’d relaxed slightly was when everything went from strange to…

As they both switched to manual piloting and turned the ship around to try and pull themselves from the pull of the black hole, it seemed like it had different plans for them as the thrusters boosted the black hole’s hold on them only seemed to get stronger. 

It was quickly concluded by the team, mission control, and their instruments that they were getting pulled inside at a rate that was increasing by the second. In that short time that it took for them to come up with a plan and act on it, the rate had exceeded what their boosters were capable of. 

It didn’t make sense and while Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi were trying to figure out a new plan everyone else’s attention turned toward the black hole out the window. 

“Hyung, what are you doing!” Namjoon exclaimed, trying to get his attention.

They sat there for a while trying to figure out a plan as the black hole got closer and closer. The plans they came up with just continued to fail, and the more fearful or frantic everyone became. 

The relatively lighthearted mood in the ship turned somber and desperate. 

“Hyung, we’ll be alright… right?” Jungkook questioned. He and Seokjin had been sitting together on the floor, right below where the window was. He’d been relatively quiet this whole time, everyone not wanting to disturb anyone in case they got an idea. 

“I’m sure we’ll be fine, someone will come up with something. I’ve been in a couple situations like this where the end seemed so close before someone got an idea at the last minute and we were saved.” Seokjin tried to reassure him. 

He wasn’t lying either. Before your accident Seokjin used to travel so many times, he used to go on so many missions that there had been a couple times he’d been in tricky situations. He probably would have never flown again if that happened now, he already was strongly considering quitting his job when he got back to the home planet. 

It was this thought that he focused on to keep him calm enough to assist the team. 

“Good because I haven’t been on many missions yet. There’s so much I want to accomplish, I can’t die yet.” Jungkook tried to laugh, but he saw the tears that had started streaming down his face. 

Seokjin hurriedly went over and pulled the younger one into an embrace. This, this hurt more than the impending doom they were facing, seeing their suffering hurt more. 

Jungkook was so young too, he was only 25, way younger than someone on a mission like this should be. He was top of his class and graduated ahead of the original class he was put into. He was doing missions pretty much as soon as he became an astronaut and quickly worked himself up to be invited to a mission like this. 

“My mom said a mission like this was too dangerous for me— I wanted to prove her wrong but—“ Every word was even more painful to hear. Seokjin tried to stop the pain, fear of a fate that seemed more and more likely but he couldn’t. 

Eventually Seokjin and Jungkook joined the rest of the crew to contact mission control again, but their growing proximity to the black hole was intercepting their connection and they were only vaguely able to hear the sounds of panicked voices on the other end before they would get too fuzzy to understand. 

No one had any ideas— no one could have prepared for a situation like this as everyone here knew what was happening was impossible. There was nothing anyone could figure out under these conditions.

As the team became more frantic Seokjin just turned to stare out the window once more. 

Something that had seemed so intriguing a few hours before had begun to show its true colors. The glowing accretion disk that circled the sphere that looked into entirety. So many strange thoughts came to him at once. 

He wondered what mission control might be seeing back at that moment. 

Had the predictions been true? Had they managed to get close enough that they had started to slow down to those that were watching? Likely not, they weren’t that close yet. 

What were the headlines going to say? Would the headquarters be the same after this? Would this be the final blow that shuts down the astronaut program? Were people going to grieve in the way he hoped? Would his family miss him? What was his legacy? Was everyone going to forget about him? Everyone is forgotten.

He only hoped the research they sent back to mission control would do some good. 

What would kill them first? The heat, the radiation, maybe they would survive long enough to get the experience of being spaghettified? Probably not though, they weren’t making it past the event horizon. The last thing they would all see might be the blinding light of the accretion disk before being burned. 

None of them could probably come out of this situation anyway. He wouldn’t be surprised if by this point they had all suffered a poisonous dose of radiation positioning. They probably wouldn’t survive long enough to feel the effects. 

They were not making this, were they?

It was on cue that the sirens on the ship began to go off. 

EMERGENCY

EMERGENCY

EMERGENCY

Mission control had tried to reach them but all they were getting at this point was static. 

The ship was starting to creak because of the speed and the force of gravity pulling them in. It was obvious very quickly that it was going to happen soon. 

Everyone was scared to move, scared one step would be the final blow. 

Seokjin didn’t know what to think. He wanted to cry, scream, beg for mercy but at this point he knew no one would hear him. There was nothing, absolutely nothing anyone could do at this point. Not even a miracle could save them.

He took a second to look around at all the crew. 

Kim Namjoon— a friend he’d met a few missions ago. A good leader that would be missed.

Min Yoongi— One of the best engineers he’s ever met. They’d been friends long before your accident. He was happy he was here.

Jung Hoseok— A pilot who could get you out of anything. The fact that he wasn’t able to get them out of this was truly telling. He was really a light on the ship. 

Park Jimin— A lead researcher on the team along with him. Another long time friend that had been there for him when he lost you all those years ago. He’d never met a guy as smart and caring before.

Kim Taehyung— A long time friend of Jimin that he had recruited for this mission and had only met recently. An interesting guy who always had such unique perspectives on their findings. Seokjin only wondered what they could have found if this mission hadn't failed.

Jeon Jungkook— A kid who really shouldn’t be on a mission like this. They had only met recently, but someone he felt he needed to look after. That kid was really going to go places if the universe wasn’t so cruel. 

These were the people he was to die with. While not everyone he had known for long, he hoped for a split second they might be able to see each other again. 

The ship started to get so hot so quickly. 

He wished he could have thought of something, something that would have saved everyone here from this horrible fate. 

It was so strange how they got here. It was as if a hand had plucked them out of the void and was pulling them to the center. Nothing made sense, a death even his worried brain had not forecasted. 

Seokjin looked at everyone again. It was almost too bright to see anything anymore, but for a second longer he saw them. He saw Jungkook, an expression that matched his age, a fear so genuine it hurt to look into his big eyes that sparkled more than the stars ever did. 

He hardly remembered what happened next, or rather, he wished he couldn’t remember anything that happened next. 

He heard a big cracking sound before everyone was being violently pulled out into space through a hole possibly. 

He didn’t know why he was able to see it, maybe he died in that moment as well, but he saw as all of his friends were pulled into space, their bodies practically vaporized instantaneously. He hoped they didn’t suffer.

Space was strange in the fact that there was no sound, there was absolutely nothing. No scary noises, no dramatic soundtrack as they all met their end, nothing as grandiose as some would expect for a moment like this. 

He couldn’t scream, he couldn’t cry for them, he was just subjected to the forces of nature as for some reason he was still aware and still being pulled further inside. 

He zoomed past the event horizon, he saw space and time bend around him, he was sure he could see himself everywhere he turned. The darkness got bigger and the blinding lights around him grew fainter and fainter. 

When would it end? When would he finally be put out of his misery?

He wished it was sooner, he felt it, his atoms all string into a single line as he was pulled even closer to the singularity. 

Things were dark after that for a while. 

The next thing he knew he was staring into the endless void, yet it wasn’t as endless as it should be. 

Edges, borders? What? 

Then a glow, a glow so similar to that of which one would turn on a computer— a very old computer at that.  

Faces, there were faces staring at him.

Yes, he’s definitely died long before this. Was this the beyond?

“Seokjin… we’ve been expecting you.” One of the faces said to him. 

“We have a mission for you.” 

“Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.” - Unknown

PARK ‘ETHEREAL’ JIMIN BLACK SWAN INTRO 🦢 PTD on Stage, LA 211202

“Science is interesting, and if you don’t agree you can fuck off.”

—  Richard Dawkins

he is the prettiest of the pretty ♡

1. Asterism || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 1: Asterism

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, kissing, fingering, explicit protected s*x WC: 9.5k

Part 1: Asterism Asterism: (noun) a recognizable pattern of stars that does not make up the full constellation

Things start when your mother texts you asking for a favor.

To be more historically accurate, things started when you were a child. But for the sake of brevity, for a tighter focus on the now, it starts with this text -

[5:41 PM] Mom: can you do me a big favor?

When you send her back “sure”, she calls you, which you expected all along. You’re surprised she texted first at all, instead of going straight to the phone call. She’s a creature of habit, your mother. 

“I cooked a few dishes and stuck them in the fridge,” she tells you. Pacing across your own kitchen, a fifteen minute drive from her place, you squint as you pass through the one exact spot where the afternoon sunlight assaults you from the window every day around this time. You’ve lived here for years - you’ve just been too lazy to put curtains up in this room. Your mother continues, her voice coming through your phone so loudly that you can hold it like it’s on speaker (although it’s not) and still hear her loud and clear. “You’ll see them, they’re in the tupperware with blue lids? Can you bring them over to the Kims’?”

“What?” you say - not because you didn’t understand the directions, but because you didn’t understand the why. She starts to repeat herself but you cut her off, clarifying, “Why are you making food for the Kims?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” she asks. “Or at least Minji? Mr. Kim had his knee replacement today.”

You call Minji from the car, but she doesn’t answer. You’ve been best friends since kindergarten; her dad’s house is just across the street from the one you’d grown up in, where your parents still live. You kids have all grown up, and away - you, Minji, and her two brothers - but Mr. Kim still lives in that same house, the light blue one that you can see from your childhood bedroom window. 

You still live close, and Minji’s just a few towns over. Her brothers moved far - requiring planes and trains to get back. You see Minji at least monthly, if not more often - usually you meet for brunch at a place between your houses. Sometimes, though, you meet back home home - for holidays, usually. The last time you were at her dad’s house with her was for the winter holidays two years ago; you’d rung in the New Year on her back deck. 

You try not to think about that night. 

You let yourself into your parents’ empty house with the code and head straight for the kitchen. As promised, there’s a small stack of blue-lidded containers, and you load them into a reusable grocery bag you steal from the cabinet beneath the sink. You lock the house back up and head across the street on foot. 

Once upon a time - for most of your life, really - you would have just let yourself in. You and Minji grew up in each other’s homes. This was your second home, her dad your second father. It had been like that your whole life. But once you and Minji went away to college, things changed - just slightly. Part of it’s just becoming an adult. You don’t barge in anymore, you knock. 

You expect Minji, or maybe one of her aunts if they’ve come to help, to answer the door. Instead, it swings open to reveal her older brother, Seokjin - full lips frowning slightly, strong brow furrowed as he tries to piece together why you’re standing on his father’s doorstep holding a grocery bag. 

The moment stretches, stills. It can go one of two ways - you can let it be awkward, or you can be sure that it isn’t.

“Hi,” you say, hoping it sounds breezy. “My mom cooked some dishes for you.”

Seokjin takes a minute step backwards, lips parting to speak, but then you hear your name squealed from over his shoulder and you brace yourself for impact. 

Jin acts fast, grabbing the bag of food from you and flattening himself against his open front door as Minji launches herself past him to hug you, laughing.

“I called you on my way over!” you scold her, smiling, hugging her tightly back. 

“Sorry!” she says, still holding you, still laughing. Jin’s still holding your food, just to the side of you, watching this display with a blank face. “I was helping my dad lay down. I left my phone in the kitchen, I think? You should see his knee, it’s disgusting. Is that food?”

She releases you and turns, heading through the house towards their roomy kitchen. You know you’re expected to follow. You reach to take the food back from Jin, shooting him a thankful smile. Your fingers brush as you take the bag, and you drop your gaze, hurrying to follow the sound of Minji’s voice as it floats through the house. Seokjin stands in place as you leave, and you hope he doesn’t see you shudder against goosebumps as you hurry away.

He’s had that effect on you since you were fourteen years old.

But that’s ancient history.

There’s a lot you want to ask him, starting with how long he’ll be in town, ending with… well. Not now. 

In the kitchen, Minji is trying to make room in the fridge for everything your mom sent over. You sit at the table, watching her absently, answering whenever her chatter pauses to ask you something. 

Jin joins you two wordlessly. He reaches over Minji’s head and then turns and holds out a beer bottle, offering it to you.

“Ooh, yes please,” you say, taking it from him. Minji looks up to see what you’re talking about and then nudges Jin’s shin - which is next to her head - to indicate that she wants one too. He sits across the table from you and sets a beer for Minji at the seat to his right. When she’s done in the fridge, she sits heavily next to her brother and they both look at you as they drink.

“So,” you say, because you have to say something about now, have to keep yourself from getting swept up in twenty-something years of memories that this house holds for you. “How’d the surgery go?”

“Great!” Minji beams. “The surgeons said it was exactly as expected. He’ll start physical therapy next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you tell her genuinely. Mr. Kim was always important to you. You turn your attention to Jin, who’s downed half of his beer already. “Are you staying long?”

He nods, swallows, then answers. “A few weeks, probably,” he tells you. “I got approval to work remotely through the end of the month. Hopefully by then he’ll be back to a point where he doesn’t need someone here 24/7, and Minji can just pop in on him…” 

He trails off, his eyes going over your shoulder, watching a few birds hop from the bird feeder to the deck railing. The deck railing where you’d hung wet bathing suits to dry on never-ending summer afternoons, where you’d placed soda cans with rivulets of condensation running down their sides, where you’d leaned with Minji as you talked about boys and school and boys again, where you’d buried your hands in Seokjin’s hair as he’d - nope. 

Not going there. Not unless you want to drown.

“Do you want to eat dinner with us?” Minji asks, throwing you a life preserver by dragging you back to the present. 

“Ah,” you say, letting your regretful tone do the answering for you. “I’d like to, but… I should get home.”

I should get out of this house, you think. I should get away from your brother. 

She grins at you slyly. “Got that man to feed?”

You laugh in surprise. Seokjin is suddenly very interested in the label on the beer he’s almost finished. 

“No,” you say. “He’s out of the picture.”

Minji narrows her eyes at you, assessing. “We don’t seem sad,” she observes finally. 

You shake your head. “We aren’t sad,” you confirm. Jin gets up wordlessly and opens the fridge again, reaching for a second beer. His shoulders take up almost the whole space. You try not to notice, try not to think about the muscles of those shoulders rippling under your fingertips - enough. Enough, now.

You stand, needing the escape, needing to get away, draining the rest of your beer in one long drag that would make your college-self proud.

“Listen,” you say to the room at large, to both of them, after placing the empty bottle back on the table, “call me if you need help, okay? My place isn’t far. I can pop over if you need an extra pair of hands, or a break, or some errands handled. Okay?”

Seokjin’s still hiding in the refrigerator, taking a million years to choose between two of the same beer. Minji, oblivious, takes your hand gratefully.

“Thank you,” she says warmly, giving you a squeeze. 

You start to head back towards the front door, Minji still clutching your hand. 

“Bye, Seokjin,” you say over your shoulder.

He glances up at you around the open refrigerator door.

“See you,” he says. There’s something hollow in his voice. 

You get it, though. 

The last time the three of you were here together, two years ago, he’d welcomed in the New Year buried inside you against the back of their house, gasping your name against the inky dark of the frigid December night.

You’ve never told a soul, and you don’t think he has, either.

You’ve never talked about it at all.

You and Minji spent New Year's Eve out at bars and clubs together almost every year. The year you were twenty-six, though, something had changed. Suddenly, the idea of vying for bar space, in heels, for overpriced drinks and sleazy dudes seemed abysmal. 

“We could stay in,” Minji had suggested. “Pretend we’re sixteen, sneaking booze into dad’s basement again? Seokjin is back in town for the week because he dumped that shitty girlfriend of his for the sixth time, might be kind of fun to all hang out.”

You’d pretended to dislike the idea, grimacing a little as you thought it over. Your brain snagged on dumped his shitty girlfriend. 

“Come on,” she’d said cajolingly. “We can put on 90’s music and play card games, like we used to.”

You knew the whole time that you’d go; all you needed to know was that Seokjin would be there. Since he’d left for college, he only came home twice a year - Christmas holidays, and over summer breaks. Since he'd moved far, even those weren't promised.

Minji ended up with a small crowd - a few that you were friends with in high school, but most of them you thought were friends of her brothers. 

You’d spent most of the night trying to avoid staring at Jin - or at least avoid getting caught staring. It had been about two years since you’d seen him last - four years since he moved away. He was twenty-eight to your twenty-six that year, and you weren’t sure if it was the way he was aging or if it was the tequila, but he seemed - somehow - even more handsome than you remembered. 

It had gotten more and more difficult as the night went on to focus - on conversations, on card games, on how to balance as you walked; your brain wanted to spend its energy cataloging the quirk of his full lips when you said something funny, his windshield-wiper laugh when Minji dropped a whole tray of lemon slices she’d spent twenty minutes cutting, the strip of bare skin his shirt revealed when he bent down to help her pick them up. It was like your brain was trying to soak up every little detail of him that it could after so many years of distance, of him being somebody you used to be close to.

Eventually, you’d retreated to the back deck, alone, just minutes before midnight. Outside, the noise of the party fell away, and you took in deep gulps of cold air, your hands gripping the splintery wood of the railing. 

When the door opened behind you, you expected Minji. Instead, Seokjin stood there, staring at you like he’d asked you a question and was waiting for an answer. 

Maybe, in his own way, he had. Maybe it had been all the quick glances he’d given you that night. Maybe it had been the way he’d stuck close, listening when you talked, smiling wryly when you cracked jokes. Maybe it had been the way his eyes had followed you from room to room, the way his fingers had tightened around his glass when you bent down to grab one of the wayward lemon slices.

You’d stared back at him, unsure what the right move was. This was Minji’s brother, and you’d promised her almost fifteen years ago to never get tangled up with her family. This was Minji’s brother, who had bought you girls beer before you were old enough, who had once driven to pick you up from the mall on a rainy day when your date had gone badly. This was Minji’s brother who’d once held your hand in the backseat of your dad’s car as you sobbed over a broken wrist, who’d often let you sit and watch him play video games even after he’d told Minji to bug off and leave him alone.

This was Seokjin, who was staring at you so intently that for a moment you weren’t sure if he hadn’t asked you something.

“Seokjin?”

His eyes met yours.

“Explain to me how you got even more beautiful?” he’d murmured, and your heart had leapt into your throat.

“I - what?”

He was close enough to touch. You’d dreamed of this for so long - pathetically long, really. You’d never dreamed that he’d want you.

He stepped closer, and you did touch him - one hand acted without permission, coming up and resting lightly on his chest, over his heart. It had thumped beneath your tentative fingers. 

Your fingers had curled in the material of the thick hoodie he’d been wearing, had pulled him just closer.

And then his mouth was on yours, searing, and your hands were in his hair, and that deck railing was pressing into your lower back as he pinned you against it, and one of his hands was creeping beneath the hem of your shirt, and you could feel him hardening against your lower stomach, and -

And through the window, you could see the party carrying on.

You broke the kiss, pushed gently on his forearm to extract his sneaky hand from inside your shirt.

“They can see us,” you’d gasped, and he’d followed your gaze somewhat dumbly, like it hadn’t occurred to him that everyone else existed in the same place as the two of you.

Then he’d taken your hand, pulling you down the deck steps, away from the glow of light from the house’s windows, down into the darkness, where witnesses would have to work a little harder to see what was going on.

He’d pressed you against the wall of the house, beneath the deck, and as you’d tipped your head back to allow him access to nip and soothe lines up and down your neck you’d thought of all the summer nights you’d spent in this exact spot. This is where the keg usually goes, you’d thought absently as that sneaky hand returned to the bare skin of your belly beneath your sweater.

You hadn’t felt even remotely cold, despite the threat of snow in the air. 

You’d kissed until your lips hurt and you wanted it to hurt just a little more, your hands starting to toy with the waistband of his jeans as his thumb rubbed determined circles around your puckered nipple beneath the fabric of your bra. 

“Tell me what you want,” he’d said, the words mumbled against your lips. He’d pulled back just enough, just enough to watch your face as you told him -

“Anything. Everything. All of it… all of you.”

His hand had traveled up the back of your thigh, beneath your skirt, fingers pushing the cotton of your panties aside before stroking through your center. You’d moaned, low, aware that anyone could come out onto the deck above you without warning. His breath had hitched in response, and his hand had left your pussy long enough to tug you to him again, pressing you against his hips for just a second before returning. This time he didn’t toy with you, pressing his index finger into your messy heat, followed quickly by a second digit.

You’d mouthed his name against his jaw, trying to keep yourself upright as he pressed you against the brick of the house, as he pumped his fingers leisurely, fingertips rubbing circles against your front wall until he found the place that made you gasp and buck against his hand. He’d laughed, asked, “Yeah?” in a cocky voice you’d never heard on him before. It’d made you, impossibly, wetter. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” you’d whispered, half delirious, and he’d laughed again, like he knew already.

There had been a flash of foil between his teeth, the sound of his zipper echoing across the frozen backyard, and then he was pushing inside you, fingers still wet from you now gripping your hip to keep you in place. 

You’d groaned in unison as he slowly bottomed out. The brick had bit at your back, the winter air had bit at your face, and Seokjin had bit at your lower lip as he pounded into you steadily. 

It had been hurried. It had been hushed. 

Your name on his lips when he came took the air from your lungs.

You’d wanted this, wanted him, in silence for as long as you could remember. Before you had words to put to it, before you were old enough to understand why your stomach hurt when he left the room. 

It had hurt, after. The scrapes from the brick wall. Your sore hamstrings. Your chapped, cracking lips. 

His silence.

You’d both missed the countdown. Happy New Year.

You don’t know what you had expected after seeing Seokjin at his dad’s house unexpectedly. Apparently, some foolish part of your subconscious thought he’d reach out to you, because you find yourself disappointed when he doesn’t.

Stupid, you think. I don’t know what you were thinking. Aside from that one slip on New Year’s Eve two years ago, you’d done a stellar job at orbiting Seokjin in silence, keeping your feelings under control and out of sight, never pushing yourself into his path but never letting him stray so far as to forget you, either. Nothing’s changed. 

You tell yourself this for two days, until Minji’s name lights up your phone as you’re packing up from work on Thursday evening, your stomach growling and your feet aching to get out of their heels. 

“Yeeees?” you answer her as you power down your laptop and cast your gaze around your cubicle for anything else that needs to come home with you.

“Are you still at work?” she asks, sounding a little breathless, a little irritated.

“Packing up right now,” you tell her, rising and pulling your bag onto your shoulder. You give Dale, your cubicle-mate, a silent wave goodbye and head for the elevators. “What’s up?”

“I tried your mom first, but your parents are apparently out to dinner tonight,” she says. “Is there any way you can swing by my dad’s? I think Seokjin is having a hard time with dad, and I’m stuck here at least another two hours -.”

“No problem,” you tell her, cutting off her explanation. It isn’t needed. “I’ll head there now. Tell him I’ll be like…” You glance at your watch for the time, “...twenty-five minutes, tops, if traffic is bad.”

“You’re a saint,” she breathes in relief. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I’ll get there as soon as I can. I promise I’ll hurry. Did I tell you that deal with Mr. Lee fell through? I have been non-stop -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell her, meaning it. “I’m happy to help. I’ll be there soon. See you later, okay?”

You grew up on a dead end. You never tell people that, now. You always fancy it up if it’s brought up in conversation - you call it a cul-de-sac, though it isn’t according to the yellow sign that marks where you turn left to reach your parents’ house. 

Every inch of this street is steeped in memories for you - memories of growing up with Minji and Seokjin, running wild through these streets whenever the weather allowed it, learning to ride a bike, having snowball fights and water balloon fights and - once - even a foodfight. Thinking of your childhood with those two, you think mostly of chaos and laughter. 

You miss it, a little, and that’s only a little bit nostalgia talking. Maybe the lack of chaos is nice, but the lack of laughter kind of sucks. 

It takes Seokjin forever to answer the door when you knock. When he does, it’s evident immediately why Minji had called for backup. 

He’s sick as a dog; his nose is red, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy and sleepy. 

“Minji sent me,” you explain. “She said you need help with your dad.”

“I don’t,” he protests, just a little whiny. “We’re fine. Why’d she call you? I told her we were fine.”

This clear untruth is punctuated by a fit of coughing. You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow, waiting. 

He shakes his head, recovering. “It’s just a cold,” he says, doubling down. “I’m sorry you drove all the way here, but I don’t need help. I was just about to help Dad get showered - I need to get back up there, he’s waiting.”

He starts to turn to go, but you reach out, catching his sleeve. He turns, brows furrowing in frustration, but you cut him off.

“Jin,” you say seriously, “come on. I came here to help. What needs to be done? Do you want me to start heating up dinner while he showers?”

He sags back against the wall behind him, raising one hand to rub wearily over his brow, his eyes, down over his mouth. You let his sleeve slip between your fingers and you wait as his resolve cracks. 

He sighs heavily, eyeing the ceiling. “Could you strip his bed and put on clean blankets? So when he’s done showering, I can put him back in a clean bed?”

“Absolutely,” you say, relieved that he’s delegated a task. He leads you upstairs silently. Your feet remember the way to Mr. Kim’s bedroom. You weren’t often allowed to play in there as kids, but you have to pass it to get to Minji’s room; you think you could walk the path in your sleep.

Halfway up the stairs, you pause, stopping by one of the dozens of framed photos on the wall. You smile, putting your finger on the glass. 

At the top of the stairs Seokjin pauses, turns to see why you stopped. Something on his face softens when he sees. 

“Yeah,” he says. “That one’s still up.”

You give him a small smile. The photo your finger rests on is a group shot with blue water meeting blue sky as the backdrop. 

Mr. Kim stands in the middle, beaming, one arm around Minji and the other around Seokjin. Minji’s little brother Jungkook - only a year behind you girls in school - sits on the ground at Seokjin’s feet, grinning with a scrunched nose. You’re behind Minji, peeking around her shoulders, your eyes closed as you laugh. You’re all kids in the picture - Seokjin, as the oldest, is probably around ten. 

You’d been shy to be included in the picture, but Mr. Kim had told you that you were one of his kids in spirit if nothing else. You’d all been at the lake that day. Seokjin had been the one who made you and Jungkook laugh as the camera snapped. You remember it like it was yesterday. After the picture had been taken, you girls and Seokjin had dug a hole in the sand and buried Jungkook up to his neck. You’d splashed in the water, squealing over the slimy rocks that lined the lake’s floor. Later, you’d all eaten thick slices of watermelon, the juice dripping on your bare legs as the summer sun set over the horizon, the four of you sitting in a row on the picnic table bench like a matched set. You’d chased fireflies until Mr. Kim called your names, ready to pack you all into the car to return home, smelling like sunscreen and lakewater. 

It was one of your favorite memories, that whole day. 

You strip the blankets and sheets from Mr. Kim’s bed and toss them in the hamper. You collect a clean set from the linen closet in the hallway without needing to be told where they are. You spent as much time in this house as your own growing up. In the ensuite, you can hear the shower running, the low murmur of both men’s voices as they chat. You make the bed, fluffing the comforter, and then take the hamper down to the basement, where you dump them into the washer and get it started. 

When you head back upstairs, Seokjin is in the living room, slumped sideways on the couch, eyes closed. You’re not sure if he’s awake, if he knows you’re standing behind him. He has that hand pressed to his brow again, and you know a headache when you see it. 

You pad quietly up the stairs and into the hallway bathroom, where Mr. Kim used to keep all the over-the-counter stuff - bandaids, pain-killers, lozenges, even tampons back when Minji still lived here. 

Heading back downstairs, you grab a glass of water from the kitchen and find Seokjin exactly where you left him, pressing his face pitifully into the arm of the couch.

You nudge him gently, and hold out your offerings - fever reducer and the water. 

He grumbles as he takes them, pushing himself to a more upright position so he can drink from the glass without spilling.

When he sets the glass down, he looks over at you somewhat warily. “How have you been?” he asks, and there’s something resigned in his voice. Something defeated. You wonder what battle he’s lost, to make him sound like that. You feel - have always felt - that so much of what goes on in Jin’s mind is kept behind the curtain. For someone so loud, he’s the most private person you know.

“I’ve been fine,” you shrug. “Normal.”

He looks sideways at you for a long moment. “Is that a lie?” he asks finally, voice low. 

“No,” you say, trying to keep your voice light. It isn’t, right? You’ve been fine. What happened between you was two entire years ago, the lid closing tightly on a lifetime of maybes. You’d had your moment together and it hadn’t led to anything. What choice did you have, but to accept it and move on? So, there you have it. You’ve been fine.

You make the decision, right there, not to bring it up - what happened two years ago. His lips on yours, his body under your hands, the way your legs had trembled as they’d struggled to hold you up. Better to let it stay dead. If Seokjin had wanted to talk about it, he’s had two years and four months to do so. If he wants to pretend he didn’t fuck his sister’s best friend and then ghost her completely, who are you to mess with the plan? 

You need something sweet; you’re far too bitter.

But honestly, you can’t even hate him for it. He hadn’t promised you a thing, so logically there’s no reason to feel like a toy played with and discarded - even if you’re left wishing he had never picked you up to play with at all.

You look him over, taking in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the haze you can still see in his eyes. “You look like shit,” you tell him.

He lets out a single puff of a laugh, his eyes closed. “Now I know you’re lying,” he says, lips quirking into a smile. 

“You look like you have the flu,” you say flatly, ignoring his nonsense. 

“It’s just a cold,” he says.

You lapse into silence. He keeps his eyes closed, that hand still resting on his head. Finally, you say, “How about you? How’ve you been?”

He shrugs. “Been fine. Working. You know.”

A tiny smile tugs on your lips. “What are we playing these days?”

The smile creeps sideways across his face and he opens his eyes to actually look at you, sending you a conspiratory smirk. “Now you’re asking the right questions,” he says, and starts to tell you about a console game he got last week. 

You head to the basement when it’s time and move the sheets you were washing into the dryer. You pause in the doorway when you return upstairs, looking Seokjin over from afar. He looks better than he had when you’d arrived - eyes less glassy, cheeks less pink. 

“I think your fever’s down,” you say, as you return to where you’d been sitting before.

“I feel better than I did,” he agrees. He looks at you appraisingly, like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time. And, considering the fever, maybe he is. “So Minji said you live pretty close?”

You nod. “Not far. That apartment complex over behind the plaza with the grocery store? You remember, the one that we used to go trick-or-treating at?”

“Wow,” he says, giving an appreciative whistle. “Those are swanky.”

“I’m swanky these days,” you joke, smiling. 

Just then, there’s a soft beep from outside - someone locking their car.

“That’s Minji,” Seokjin observes, and you find yourself standing, feet carrying you towards the kitchen. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” you call over your shoulder. Jin is watching your sudden departure, clearly bemused. You busy yourself in their fridge, even though you don’t have a real reason to. You just didn’t want Minji to enter the house and find you and Jin having domestic hours on the living room couch.

The front door opens, and Minji calls your name through the house.

“I’m in here!” you call back, and head for the doorway of the kitchen. 

Minji hurries to you, setting her bags down on the kitchen floor and flopping dramatically onto the doorjamb. 

“I am so sorry,” she says. “Thank you so much for coming over.”

“Your brother’s sick,” you tell her flatly. “He had a pretty high fever when I got here.”

Her eyes widen, and she turns to look over her shoulder at Seokjin, who gives her a cheery thumbs up. 

“He says he’s fine,” you inform her, “but he’s got about two more hours before the fever-reducer wears off and then he’s gonna be useless again.”

“Thank you for the warning,” she tells you, while Seokjin squawks from the living room, “I am not, and have never been, useless!” 

You give Minji a quick hug goodbye and head for the front door. 

You meet Seokjin’s eyes as you pass through the living room. They’re sharp, now that the fever’s receded, locked on you and looking. 

“Feel better,” you tell him. “Make sure you hydrate.”

“Hey,” he says, making himself comfortable against the couch cushions, “thanks.” Then, an afterthought - “Seriously. Thank you.”

You give him a tight smile and slip out the front door.

Going home doesn’t stop you from worrying, even though you know Minji is home and capable of taking care of everything. But at work the next day, your eyes keep darting to your phone screen, as if you’re expecting updates on how Jin is feeling, if everything is okay at the house. 

No one texts you. 

You can’t ask Minji. She’s too fucking smart. If you so much as said, “Hey, is your brother feeling better?” she’d be all over it. 

You try your mom instead, texting her, “How’s Mr. Kim doing? Any updates?” 

She answers, “Haven’t heard anything!”

You groan, tapping the corner of your phone on your desk in frustration. You try to focus on work for a little bit, but it’s truly a lost cause. With a defeated sigh, you open your phone and thumb through your contacts. 

Kim Seokjin. 

You’ve had his number in your phone since you got it - your mom was the one who programmed it in for you when you were fourteen, citing Jin as someone you could call if you had an emergency. As if by being two years your senior, he qualified as a helpful adult. 

You haven’t used his number in over five years - not since you were still in college, probably. 

Actually, you realize, you remember the last time - though there were definitely parts of the night you didn’t remember. 

It was your senior year, the first weekend of December, and you and Minji were drinking in some girl’s dorm. You’d never even met this girl before, but there you were, perched on her desk with a bottle of flavored vodka in hand, watching her LEDs change color along the ceiling.

You and Minji were both wasted, even though it was relatively early - not even midnight yet. You leaned against each other, holding the other up, both of you giggling and tapping around on your phones as the conversation flowed around you.

That’s what had happened - you’d noticed it was about to be midnight, the clock about to change from 11:59. And despite being so drunk that Minji was mostly propping you up, so drunk that you had to close one eye to read the letters of this girl’s alarm clock, so drunk that you’d be throwing up in just minutes - a little part of you brain informed you that midnight meant it was officially December 4th. 

You’d texted Seokjin happy birthday at exactly midnight, one eye closed to make sure you were typing actual words. He was hundreds of miles away, had graduated and moved out already, and you hadn’t talked since the day the Kims had loaded all of his shit into a rented moving van, about five months ago. 

And he’d answered - “thank you! what are you doing up??”

To which you’d replied, “getting baja blasted with your sister” and he’d replied, “i do not want to know, thank you!!”

And then Minji had looked at you drunkenly and narrowed her eyes. “Who are you texting with that smile?”

The floor had swooped below your feet, and you’d run for the bathroom. Minji had forgotten about interrogating you, and you and Seokjin had never texted again.

Now, at your job, you stare at his name on your phone screen, wracked with indecision. 

“This is ridiculous,” you finally sigh. Behind you, Dale glances over his shoulder to determine if you’re talking to him or yourself. Ignoring Dale, you tap Seokjin’s name and type, “how are you feeling today?”

You don’t even have time to feel nervous about it - his response is almost instantaneous. He sends you a picture of a gaming screen, where he’s clearly playing a shooter POV. He follows it up with the sunglasses emoji. You laugh out loud, trying to keep your chuckles quiet to avoid calling attention to your cubicle. 

“What a nerd,” you mutter affectionately. You type back, “you must be fine then 🙄”. 

Seokjin’s played video games his whole life; it’s one thing you do know about him. How many hours of your childhood had been spent with him, Jungkook, and Minji crowded around the tv in their basement, fighting over whose turn it was to play?Usually Seokjin got to play the first controller (since he was older, stronger, and technically the console belonged to him), which left you and Minji and Jungkook to fight it out over the second one.

But you remember other times, too - especially as you got older - when you’d just sit in silence and watch him play. By the time you were a teenager - fourteen to Jin’s sixteen - Minji was over wanting to join him. She’d argue for use of the tv, and when she lost she’d flounce upstairs to her room to sulk about it. Sometimes you’d join her - usually, you’d join her. But sometimes you’d cast a glance at Seokjin, see if you were welcome. He’d always play it the same - look at you sideways, give you a tiny nod, pat the couch behind him like an invitation. (Seokjin played video games from the floor, letting the base of the couch prop him up. He said he focused better that way.) 

You’d sit, quiet, watching him work the controls, listening to him whine and groan and complain and shout his way through each map. And you’d feel special, because he let you stay after he’d told Minji to fuck off, because he didn’t mind your presence, because sometimes he’d ask if you wanted him to teach you how, even though you always said no thanks. 

You text your mom and ask what she’s making for dinner.

“Why?” she sends back. “Are you asking me to feed you?”

“Maybe,” you send back. 

You join your parents for dinner, “just because”. It’s not that uncommon for you to join them for a meal now and then, considering how close you live. You go because you love your parents and you want a home-cooked meal - definitely not because you know it puts you back in proximity to Jin.

Your mom glances up at you from across the table approximately every four-tenths of a second through the entire meal, until finally you slap your palm on the table and snap, “What?”

She purses her lips, amused. “Nothing,” she says, feigning innocence. “We just don’t usually see you on Friday nights.”

“Jagi,” your dad warns, his voice full of affection. Like he knows it’s a lost cause but he thinks he should try to rein her in for your sake. 

“I’m just saying!” she says, still all innocence, eyes wide. “I’m not complaining! It’s nice to have you here.”

You grumble a response, aggravated that she seems to be onto you. To escape their scrutiny, you rise and move to bag up the full garbage, tying the top of the bag and heading out to the trash cans at the end of the driveway. 

You pause there after hefting the bag up and into the bin, taking a second to breathe. It’s a nice night - the sun has mostly set, the sky deep and dark above you but still clinging to shades of pink down near the horizon. It’s warm, too, for April. 

You’re standing there, arms crossed, watching the sky inch closer and closer to darkness, when you hear a door shut across the street. Your eyes follow the sound immediately, and you see a man’s silhouette do the same thing you were doing - make its way down the driveway, a trash bag in hand. 

Romantic, you think wryly. A garbage date. You stay rooted to the spot, watching as Jin - just an outline, a shadow - tosses the bag into the bin and brushes off his hands. Then, he stops still, seeming to notice you.

You hold your breath, not sure how this will go, and then he starts to lope over, and you exhale in a whoosh.

“Hi,” he says simply, as he gets close enough that you can finally see his face through the dark.

“Hi,” you say around a tiny smile. “You seem better today.”

He scoffs. “I told you it was just a cold. I just needed to sleep it off.”

“I’m glad,” you tell him softly. Maybe it’s dangerous, maybe it’s stupid - to be soft with him. To act like you didn’t already get your answer from him, years ago. To pretend your affection for him is still as pure and untainted as it was when you were a teenager. 

But it feels safer, out here, away from his dad’s house. In there, the memories of that New Year’s Eve are too fresh, too strong - they cling to the air, slide down the walls. The heating unit sighs to life and you hear your own sighs as Seokjin’s fingers danced along your bare skin. The refrigerator grumbles and you hear the grumble of pleasure that originated low in Seokjin’s throat as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. Someone’s footsteps crunch gravel outside, and you hear the crunch of gravel as Seokjin made his way back to the front of the house in the dark, leaving you hidden in shadows, clutching the bricks and gasping for breath.

It’s better out here. In the fresh air, away from that house, the memories are looser, less focused - bike races, raucous laughter, chalk drawings, bouncing beams of light from flashlight tag.

“Thank you for the help yesterday,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck like he does when he’s embarrassed. “I know I kind of gave you a hard time.”

“You didn’t,” you say, letting him off the hook. You’ll always let him off the hook, for everything. You always have. “How’s your dad?”

He glances back at the house over his shoulder, like he needs to verify this answer before giving it. “Not so good today,” he admits. “He’s in a lot more pain, starting to get frustrated needing so much help.”

“Hmm,” you deadpan. “A Kim man who gets frustrated at needing help. Interesting.”

Seokjin laughs, full from his belly. “Shut up,” he says, but there’s no ire in it. “Can I help it if I’m a chip off the ol’ block?”

“We’re supposed to learn from our parents’ mistakes,” you tell him, like a reminder. “Not continue them.”

Just then, a car turns around the corner, the headlights casting you in blinding white light before throwing you back into shadow. You both turn to look - since it’s a dead end, traffic doesn’t just pass through here. 

You recognize the car - it’s Minji’s. She parks and pops out, calling hello to you, ignoring her brother. He makes a face at you like, what am I, chopped liver? 

“I have your mom’s tupperwares, do you want to take them?” she asks, pressing the lock button on her key fob and making the car behind her beep once, loudly. 

“Sure,” you say, following her into the house. A glance over your shoulder tells you that Seokjin is following, too, a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets. 

Inside, Mr. Kim is sitting sideways on the couch, his leg propped up on a small stack of pillows, a bag of ice over his knee. He perks up when he sees you, lowering his phone away from his face and pushing his spectacles further up his nose. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” he asks. “I’d come hug you, but -.” He gestures at his leg.

“I’m doing fine,” you assure him. “I heard you had a rough day today.”

Mr. Kim shoots a dark look at his son, who looks innocently at the ceiling. “Just a little pain today,” Mr. Kim demures.

Seokjin glances at his phone. “We might want to get you upstairs soon,” he tells his father. “You know you’ll be asleep in about fifteen minutes, so unless you want to spend the night on the couch…”

You watch, feeling awkward and unable to help, as Seokjin helps his dad swivel and stand, an arm over Seokjin’s shoulders. They make their way slowly and laboriously up the stairs, and you feel a little anxious watching. 

“Are they okay?” you ask Minji as she returns from the kitchen, pushing your mother’s empty tupperware back into your hands.

“They’re fine,” she says easily. “It takes a while but they’ve got it down to a science. Hey, listen, do you want to go grab a drink? It’s Friday, and I’ve had a hell of a week, and what I would really like to do is Uber into town and drink like college-Minji.”

You laugh at this. “I’m not sure I’m prepared for the return of college-Minji.”

“Pleaaaaaaaase?” she begs, blinking her lashes at you. “We haven’t gone out together in ages.”

“Alright, alright,” you laugh. “Let me go tell my parents goodbye and drive home and change. Text me the details and I’ll meet you there.”

“Yessss!” she cries, dancing in place a little. You feel a swell of affection for her; you love Minji with your whole heart. You’ve been through a lot together. You’ve been through a lot separately, but always side by side.

There have been many times through your life where you felt like you were clutching Minji’s hand through the fire. 

You still remember clearly the way she’d bounded up to your locker, back when you were thirteen, squealing and excited because the most popular girl in your year had asked her for her number, had invited her over. 

You still remember clearly Minji sobbing on your bed weeks later when it came to light that the girl - who wouldn’t be the last to try - was just trying to get an “in” with Minji’s hot older brother.

“You know I would never, right?” you’d promised her. Stupid, at fourteen, not clarifying that you mean never use you to get to him. Stupid, because then you were sixteen and then eighteen and then twenty-one and then twenty-six and you weren’t sure what you had actually promised - had Minji heard it as I would never get involved with him? 

“I know,” she’d sobbed, reaching one hand blindly to clutch at yours. “I know you wouldn’t.”

And now you’re twenty-eight and the secrets you’ve kept keep piling up - each day you loved him, another pebble atop the pile. The slightest shake could topple the tower, and you’d be absolutely buried. 

You could never let Minji know you loved him. Not when you were fifteen and he was untouchable. Not when you were twenty, and he was the best part of coming home. Not when you were twenty-six, pressed between him and the deck railing. 

Not now, after two years of existing outside his orbit again. 

The bar she picks is small, but quiet - quiet enough that you can actually carry on a conversation from opposite sides of a wooden booth, which is exactly what you do.

What you hadn’t banked on was that Seokjin would join her, sitting on her side of the booth, complaining loudly that he’s not going to come out with you two ever again, he’s never been such a third wheel in his life.

“You could have stayed home with dad,” Minji says, giving him a swift elbow to the ribs. “Don’t be such a complainer. You jumped in on my plans.”

“Can we please talk about something besides your hot coworker, then?” he begs. “Anything, anything else.”

“We could talk about my hot coworkers,” you offer, even though you have none. But this - teaming up with Minji to push Seokjin’s buttons - is a song and dance you know by heart, something you’ve done since practically infancy.

He narrows his eyes at you. “Believe it or not, that’s not better,” he deadpans. 

You laugh, knocking back the rest of your drink and sliding out of the booth to go get another, leaving the Kim siblings to bicker in your absence.

You don’t expect Seokjin to follow; you don’t expect him to press up behind you as you stand at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention. 

But he does, his body heavy and warm against yours. The blood rushes to your pussy so fast it almost makes you mad. All he’s doing is standing in close proximity, can your body get it together?

“What are you doing?” you murmur, trying not to meet his eyes in the mirrored wall behind the bar.

“Minji wants shots,” he answers easily. Like his body isn’t pressed against yours, like he isn’t causing your heart to hammer against your ribs.

“You’re too close,” you manage to say, because it’s the best option you can think of. Better than she’ll see us. Better than you still aren’t close enough. Better than don’t do this if you’re just going to leave again. 

He does catch your eyes in the mirror, then. He must read something honest on your face, because he shifts sideways, leaving you cold. The bartender comes by, takes both your orders. You take your drink back to the table. Seokjin follows with a tray of bad decisions poured into tiny glasses.

Even though he gave you the reprieve when you asked for it, it’s clear he’s got a mission to ruin you. You’re sure of it, more and more sure as the night wears on. Sure of it when you reach for the same shot glass, your fingers brushing, his lingering. Sure of it when his eyes on your face make you so warm that Minji accuses you of having a drunk flush. Sure of it when his foot hooks around your ankle beneath the table, slides up and down your calf, slow and tantalizing, inches from Minji’s stilettoed feet. Sure of it when this causes your breath to hitch and his fingers tighten around his glass and his gaze goes to the opposite wall, anywhere but towards you.

You’re drunk, but it’s Seokjin that’s sending you spinning. 

You’ve made this mistake before, you remind yourself sternly. Nothing good can come of it. 

You excuse yourself and head for the bathroom, a marked up door at the end of a narrow, poorly lit hallway. You grip the sides of the sink and breathe deep, closing your eyes. The room sways and you press your forehead to the mirror, trying to ground yourself. 

“You cannot fuck him again,” you whisper to yourself, eyes still closed. “It wouldn’t mean anything even if you did.”

The alcohol catches up to you as you whisper these words; the truth of them slam you harder than normal. You blink away tears, taking a few shuddering breaths.

“Time to go home,” you tell yourself firmly, turning off the water and wiping quickly under your eyes in case any makeup ran. 

This is what it means to be in Seokjin’s orbit, now: to crash into each other, to fight with yourself - fight with the truth that he doesn’t want you, and then run away scared until he’s too far away to hurt you again. Spin idly along until the next time your circles cross paths. Do it again.

He’s in the hallway when you emerge, arms crossed as he leans against the wall. You have to pass him to get back to the table. He pushes off the wall when he sees you coming, stumbles a little. A tiny, sensible part of your brain whispers that he might be drunker than you are as you sidle into his personal bubble.

“What are you doing, Seokjin?” you ask him for the second time that night. 

His eyes comb your face. You don’t know what answer he’s looking for, what question he’s secretly asked you in his mind. 

“You tell me,” he retorts, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, but speaking somehow brought him looming closer and you’re drowning in the smell of him, the warmth of him, the desire to feel his body hard against yours again, to feel him split you open again, to have his mouth hot on your skin again -

You close your eyes, sag a little. His hands come to your elbows quickly, holding you up. “You’re confusing me,” you whisper, and then look up at him through your lashes. 

There’s something aching on his face, and then he whispers back, “I’m sorry. Y/N, I’m so sorry - I never meant -.”

The click-clack of high heels approach and round the corner. You and Seokjin leap apart like you’re burned, your arms tingling where his fingers had been.

It’s not Minji. The stranger murmurs an apology and brushes past you both, towards the bathroom.

Spooked, startled out of the moment, you turn to head back to the bar, back to Minji. 

Seokjin grabs your arm, pulls you back. You teeter back a step, then look at him expectantly as you regain your balance.

Seriously, so seriously, he tells you, “I swear, I never wanted to hurt you.” Then he releases your arm with a tiny push, guiding you back out of the dirty hallway and into the light.

You Uber home alone. You brush your teeth, remove your makeup. You change into pajamas, drink a glass of water. 

You wake up to your phone buzzing incessantly next to your head.

[10:14 AM] Jin 😎: oh [10:14 AM] Jin 😎: my god [10:14 AM] Jin 😎: i think i am dead? [10:15 AM] Jin 😎: are you dead too? are we ghosts? [10:15 AM] Jin 😎: can ghosts throw up??? 🤔

You giggle despite your own headache. 

[10:15 AM] You: whats wrong old man, you can’t hang anymore?? [10:16 AM] Jin 😎: WOW [10:16 AM] You: 😇

You check all your other socials, answer a few emails, and then finally drag yourself out of bed and head for a hot shower. As you stand beneath the hot water, you think about your first hangover, when you were sixteen. 

You’d woken up next to Minji on her basement floor, a hoodie balled up beneath your head like a pillow. You’d closed your eyes again, hoping the splitting pain in your head and the roiling adrenaline in your stomach were a bad dream. 

They were not.

You spent most of the next hour in the basement’s tiny bathroom, curled up on the floor next to your porcelain jail. When you felt like you could stand, you rinsed your mouth and pulled the pillow-hoodie onto your body, taking comfort in the way it swam on you, the hemline brushing your thighs just below your cutoffs. 

You’d made your way upstairs, hoping to sneak past Mr. Kim and your own parents and make it unscathed to your own bed. You wanted nothing but to sleep for the next fourteen hours. Or years. 

You got busted at the top of the stairs. Luckily, it was Seokjin bustling around the kitchen, not his father.

He had taken one look at you and started laughing, low in his belly. “Too much fun?”

“Shut up,” you’d whined, literally covering your ears against the noise. “Or I will throw up again, I promise.”

Jin had smiled at you, open and easy. “Sit down, kid,” he’d said kindly, jerking his head towards the kitchen table. “I have an age-old remedy.” 

And actually? It had worked.

After drying your hair and throwing on some jeans and a t-shirt, you scavenge your kitchen. You have most of what you need, and you toss it all into a tote bag and hunt for your keys. You finally find them on the floor next to the kitchen counter - chances are you’d tossed them at the counter last night and missed - and head out.

Your parents are home when you let yourself in. They both stare at you, baffled, then exchange a sly, knowing look.

“You’re back, I see,” your mom says, something sneaky in her tone.

“Do you have any bean paste?” you answer. “I’m going to go make Minji hangover soup.”

Only one word was a lie.

This makes your mom laugh, and she rummages in her cabinets and helps you complete the list of ingredients you need. 

The Kims’ front door is locked, so you make your way around the side of the house and fish the key out of its hiding spot, letting yourself in the side door that leads to the kitchen. 

The house is still and quiet, and you try not to clang any pots and pans as you get to work. When you finish, over an hour later, you set up the table - a bowl of hangover soup, and a mug of steaming hot coffee, black.

You text Seokjin, “come to the kitchen”, and set your phone back down, turning to start on the dishes. 

You’re informed of his presence by his laugh. You turn, hands red under the hot water and covered in suds, to see him sitting down at the spot you’d set up. He looks up at you, amazed, an uncertain smile playing across his face. 

“It’s an age-old remedy,” you tell him seriously.

“You are…” he trails off with a quiet laugh and reaches for the coffee. 

You’d love to know the end of that sentence. 

When you finish the dishes - save for the pot with the remaining soup, still on the stove for when Minji wakes up - you pour your own mug of coffee and sit across from Jin, watching as he finishes his soup. He closes his eyes and sighs happily, then sets down his spoon reverently.

“Thank you,” he says, like a prayer, but also like a joke. “That was so needed.”

“Consider it payback,” you tell him. 

It feels different, sitting across the kitchen table. Different than sitting across that booth at the bar. Less charged. Like it wasn’t something physical burning between you, like you’d thought, but the need for catharsis, for apology. Even if you don’t know what he’s sorry for, even if you still don’t know what exactly happened with him two years ago.

He’s thinking about it too, apparently. He says your name quietly, and you look up to meet his eyes. You can read the apology all over his face. The house is still still and quiet, no one awake but you and Jin. Like no one exists but you and Jin.

You’ve felt that way before.

Sitting beside him in the basement. In the passenger seat of his car, driving through a rainstorm. In his backyard, in the dark, your breath visible in the air as it leaves your mouth in desperate puffs.

“I kind of wanted to talk,” he admits, and your stomach twists. Maybe you should have had some of the soup. “About -?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say quickly, already standing, already moving to gather up the tote bag you’d used to carry ingredients. You shrug back into your jacket, ignoring Jin’s wide-eyed look of surprise. “I should get going,” you say, still not looking at him. You go back to the kitchen door you’d entered through, picking up the key so you can return it to its hiding place outside. You pause on the threshold, turning, eyeing the stovetop thoughtfully. 

“Tell Minji you made the soup,” you instruct, and then you close the door behind you. 

Next ->

Thank you so so much for reading - i hope you like this one as much as I do! Please don't feel shy about letting me know what you think!

Part 2: Retrograde will post next Friday, June 2nd. Hope to see you there!