Tae Fics - Tumblr Posts

AUTUMN LEAVES MASTERLIST - Fall 2022 Collaboration

Main Banner: Justine • bangtansmauyeondan. Fic Banners: Dani • persphonesorchid

Contributors: @hamsterclaw @taestefully-in-luv @madbutgloriouspond @persphonesorchid @blog-name-idk @btsstan12 and myself! 🥰

We are ready to warm you up through this sweater weather, when the smell of roasted marshmallows and pumpkin spice waft through the air, with heartwarming stories to carry you through the season!

Warnings are more specified on each writer's blog posts.

•••••

CRIMSON by @btsstan12 - September 17, 2022

Pairing: non-idol! Namjoon X fem! reader Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, crack (a little?) Warnings: none Rating: pg-13 WC: 8k+ Summary: The time when the wind changes and you can feel poetry in the air is autumn. Autumn is also called fall. This time, maybe literally for Namjoon as he falls for the girl with her nose buried in a book. He navigates his small crush on her with crimson cheeks, crunch of leaves and the changing winds.

FALL LIKE MOONDROPS by @madbutgloriouspond - September 24, 2022

Pairing: Jimin x F!Reader Genre: Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff, Smut Warnings: 18+, smut, car sex, mentions of wonderwall, ​an insane amount of pining, additional tags to be added Summary: University's over and the rest of Jimin's life is about to start but there's one more thing he needs before he's ready to embrace whatever future awaits him.

BERLIN by @hamsterclaw - October 1, 2022

Pairing: Hoseok x F!Reader Genre: Espionage AU, smut, mild angst Warnings: 18+, sex, swearing, mentions of injury Summary: Hoseok and you tried to make it work but you can't... Yet you can't be without each other either.

PICK OF THE PATCH by @taestefully-in-luv - October 8, 2022

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader Genre: fluff, angst, smut, enemies to lovers Rating: M Warnings: swearing, some alcohol consumption, sad oc, feeling lost, feelings of regret, Taehyung is kinda an asshole (for reasons🥺), terminal illness, character death, crying. smut warnings: oral (fem and male rec), protected sex (more smut warnings on actual fic) Summary: You’re a struggling artist with a strong desire to escape so when your mother suddenly calls and asks you to return home to replace her in this years Harvest Festival dance, you never said yes faster. However, she informs you that you’ll be working with another dancer, Kim Taehyung and upon meeting, you decide you do not like him…but right when you think you could grow up and move past it, Taehyung makes it clear that he does not like you either.

AUBURN SKIES by @persphonesorchid - October 15, 2022

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Genre: Best friend's sister au, crack (sort of? I'm not funny lmao) Warnings: 18+, smut (exact smut warnings will be included in the post once it's up and ready to go!) Summary: "Autumn is a season that shows us that change can be beautiful" - Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she's off limits. Yoongi knows this. There's no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time's passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he's still a little hopeful. Now you're here at the lake house because Namjoon brought you and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi. Namjoon's gonna kill him.

(RIGHT) HOOK, LINE, AND SINKER by @blog-name-idk - October 22, 2022

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem Reader Genre: College!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut Word Count: 12,353 Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Vmin being menaces as always Summary: Haunted houses are the opposite of your idea of a good time. But then you punch out a hot zombie who falls for you the same instant his ass hits the ground, and well… maybe they aren't always so bad.

PROMISE by @bangtansmauyeondan - October 29, 2022

Pairing: Seokjin × Fem Reader Genre: established relationship au, angst, fluff Rating: 18+, M Warnings: swearing, smut, jealousy, insecurity, feeling of neglect, alcohol consumption Summary: When you and Seokjin no longer dream of the same dream, and no longer look at the world the same way, you start recalling the promise you made to each other three years ago in front of the altar. Is it a promise that holds true for eternity, or is it a promise that’s meant to be broken?

...𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨...

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ masterlist

━ about: fluff, angst, crack (tiny smut) - the holy trinity/quartet? ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: soulmates are my favourite trope cause of low self-esteem, I hope it is yours as well. The trope, not the issues.

NAMJOON: As it stands to reason, Namjoon knew it was an overcapitalized natural phenomenon with an actual success rate of only 52%. Having just a little over half meant that a whole 47% with a margin error of 1% of the entire world nor had, nor wanted any dealings with soulmates. But even so, he couldn't entirely stop the blush of whimsical fancy whenever thinking of them.

He was, for now at least, documented as an "awaiting registry" in the K-SSA (Korean Soulmate System Association) and all that was needed - time. Often, he daydreamed of his perfect partner with their perfect life much like numerous others, not really festering any bloom of hope and yet -!

Yet he couldn't feel like he was profoundly dunked on by the universe itself as 24 seconds ago writing appeared on his forearm when none had touched it. In a thin, illegible font it said one word and one word only.

𝒸𝑜𝒸𝓀.

He looked away, wiped at it absent-mindedly but as it was not ink, it did not stain. Right. Okay.

Deciding to squash all thoughts and sensations related to his soulmate he moved on with his life telling no one of this discovery. But the dam once unleashed did not cease and never, ever did it wield any sign of intelligence. On top of that, his soulmate seemed to be a perpetual cheat - math, language, history. In a terrible shorthand, Namjoon suddenly found himself abhorrently acquainted with someone's educational curriculum. However, the proverbial chariot finally broke when jet-lagged and sleep-deprived Namjoon could only helplessly watch as word by word, with painstaking accuracy, the dreaded sprawl appeared.

"𝒜𝒸𝒸𝑜𝓇𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓁𝒶𝓌𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒶𝓋𝒾𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶 𝒷𝑒𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒻𝓁𝓎. 𝐼𝓉𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝑜𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒, 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒, 𝒻𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓌𝒶𝓎."

Having had quite enough of this strange dumbass, he grabbed a sharpie and crossed out the stupid words with one bold, black stroke. A profound moment of silence followed suit and inadvertently Namjoon wondered whether they were sitting still, in some corner of the world seized by an unseen fright of the truly terrifying reality that one is not truly alone anymore. But no such thing happened as a cool and collected reply soon followed.

"𝒪𝒽 𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓁! :𝒟"

Possessing no desire to waste any more time, Namjoon leapt straight to the point.

"You're annoying."

"𝒴𝑒𝓈, 𝓈𝑜 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝑜𝓁𝒹 :)"

Floundering at what to say further, he sat frozen for a good while his soulmate seized the opportunity in which to continue.

"𝒴𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝒸𝓀𝓇𝑜𝒶𝒸𝒽."

And even faster as if in a hurried panic, they added.

"𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐼'𝓂 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔."

"Learning curse words?"

If he had a single atom of a gracious painter in his body, he'd draw a heavily disapproving grimace.

"𝒲𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝓋𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌𝓁𝑒𝒹𝑔𝑒?"

Alright. In what was almost deja vu, Namjoon turned off the light and went to sleep. This was a lot to endure.

The scribbling didn't stop and Namjoon ignored the odd question directed at him, though with a peculiarly heavy heart. Sometimes he had only half the presence of mind and attempted to write something back but always caught his own hand mid-stroke. Life with him would not be easy. And also you were still strangers. Despite the riveting romance stories of the airport stalls, it was not that easy to breach the gap. In fact, it was even more difficult. If two people met in ordinary ways in ordinary circumstances, they could head in any direction they wanted, without the knowledge of "what if". But the only thing Namjoon knew for certain was the "what if". What if he never meets you? What if he screws it up? That would fill him with bitter regret for the rest of his life. But it wasn't until a more sombre message to which he woke up, that he couldn't stay away anymore.

"𝐼'𝓂 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒹𝓊𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝒯𝑜𝒹𝒶𝓎. 𝒟𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼'𝓂 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻."

Then after a while.

"𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒."

And despite Namjoon being in the middle of the interview, he dished out the pen from his pocket which he may or may have not been carrying this whole time and hastily traced back.

"I care. I'm proud of you as well."

Pause.

"Soulmate ;)"

YOONGI: His pulse was drumming against the skin of his neck, choking down the next breath. No matter how many times he skimmed through the small space no sudden stranger or even a ghost appeared. Nevertheless it didn't change the fact that he was hearing voices.

Yoongi slapped a hand over his own ear as though that was the problem. The conversation persisted.

"No, I don't know, Maeve," the disembodied voice continued in a sigh. "If they wanted to ask, they would have long ago, right?"

Licking his lips, Yoongi croaked a feeble -

"Hello?"

The mysterious stranger fell deathly mute and with eardrums straining to the point of pain, he could vaguely gather they were afraid as Yoongi himself was shocked into a similar stupor not a moment ago. They must think he was the ghost. And though Yoongi didn't know for certain, he supposes that he just might have found his soulmate.

He had spent his whole life counting himself into the 47%. Having neither proclivity for, nor signs of a formed bond, he simply ran with the statistics. 47% of the world was a great number of people and Yoongi was quite content with what or whom he had. So in a manner which thousands must have asked along with him today, he thought "shit, what now?"

Days later, clutching the twin "pending" forms of the K-SSA and I-SSA, he decided to speak. Maybe his soulmate won't like him anyway.

"Hello?" he utters into the empty space of his apartment feeling a tad foolish but bulldozing his way through it "Are you there?"

With a bated breath, he waits then at last -

"Yes, hello."

Yoongi coughs and with an orchestrated indifference states the obvious.

"We must be soulmates."

"Yeah," comes a similarly dispassionate reply. "Though I did think you were a demon."

He snorts in a muted amusement.

"What's your name?"

"______________. Yours?"

His brain errors. Even if a soulmate, he couldn't just freely divulge his persona willy-nilly, so to speak. Being a soulmate didn't prohibit anyone from inflicting harm. The morning news was plenty of affirmation.

"Oh...um...August."

In the five-second span in which no response followed, he could feel just how much you didn't believe him.

"August?" dryly, you echo.

"Yeah, my parents were hippies."

He goes to sit down on the sofa, sinking into it whilst awkwardly clapping his hands.

"Are you a seal?"

He glances down at his hands.

"You can hear that?"

"Yes. Weird isn't it."

Another pregnant pause followed suit.

"So soulmates," he drawled in deep thought. "You're uh...interested in that?"

If he focused enough he could hear a pen clacking against a thick notebook. You must be studying or in an office space. Or simply sitting and tapping away the pen to alleviate nerves.

"I...I'm not quite sure," you answer truthfully. "I haven't agonized over it and I've been busy and..."

You exhale shakily.

"And to be completely frank...I got into a relationship. Yesterday."

Well, that's just on brand, Yoongi thought sourly.

"I'm sorry, August."

He chuckled. You actually sounded sincere. And something in the apologetic lilt of your tone made his heart soften. At entirely the wrong time.

"Don't worry about it. Not your fault."

"Are...are you in a relationship?"

He licks his dry lips and pushes the forms further away and across the coffee table.

"Yeah," he lies. "So it's all fine."

He once again thinks you're a ghost, blinking blearily at your soft voice shaking the still air of the night. Years have passed and he realized that he sort of has missed the sound of your voice.

"August?" you asked timidly in the middle of the night. "Are you still there?"

He rubs his eyes.

"Yes. Hello."

"Hi."

An awkward tension wavers.

"What are you up to?"

"Can't sleep," he mumbles, rubbing now repeatedly his tired eyes. "Insomnia."

"Oh, sorry to hear that."

"Do you always apologize for everything?" he crosses his arms, resting on the pillow like a normal person would whilst talking next to someone in the bed.

"A little bit," you laugh demurely. "You know, I submitted my form and the I-SSA replied back."

He sobered up at that, the faint migraine from the lack of rest pounding a little harder as his breath caught in his throat.

"Don't worry, they were very strict and revealed to me nothing."

"Sorry about that," he couldn't help but sigh however you didn't seem to mind.

"Do you always apologize for everything?" you laughed and he did too.

"Just about this," now slightly soothed he settled deeper into the covers. "What about your...partner?"

"Oh," immediately your voice became angry. "Dumped them. Cheated on me."

"What a fucking prick," Yoongi scoffed.

"Enough about them. Try to sleep, okay?"

You were nothing but a stranger. A stranger talking into his head which not so long ago would have guaranteed him four walls and complete isolation. Yet still, he listened. Found the request, not an order but a nagging sweet sentiment of taking better care. He didn't mind it, and neither did he mind you talking. In fact, the migraine was peculiarly retreating,

"What are you watching?" he asked curiously. Through the winded gaps in your voice and the rustle of the Seoul traffic outside, he could piece together some fragments of what resembled 90's tv show music. "Sounds like old porn."

Abruptly, you burst into a fit of loud laughter and then just as abruptly fell quiet.

"Sorry...no one has joked with me for a very long time," you quietly admitted and something in his chest began to sting.

"You have a nice laugh," with a faint blush, he praised shyly. "Don't you have friends to joke around with? Maeve?"

If you found it odd, he knew the name of your friend, still remembering it from that faint first bond years ago now, you didn't remark on it and he was better for it. Yoongi really didn't need to feel any more of a creep than he had, always chiding himself for being this obsessive over those few minutes of conversation. It seemed that he was not so indifferent about the soulmate thing after realizing they were real for him.

"Not anymore. Who do you think that garbage cheated on me with?"

Yoongi cringed.

"I'm sorry," he bid earnestly, a wrinkle of a frown etching on his forehead.

"Addition to the list?" you teased and he smiled to himself, persistently shy, despite knowing you could not see it.

"Suppose. Though you never answered."

"What exactly?" you hummed and he heard sheets rustling. You must be sleeping as well. Or perhaps simply sitting on the bed.

"What are you watching?"

"X-Files. Felt in the mood for something spooky."

He thought about it for a second before rushing into action.

"Which episode? What minute?"

You were almost taken aback by the brazen curiosity as it hadn't been previously ever heard.

"Season 1, episode 8. Minute 04:47."

As Yoongi grabbed his laptop, he heard the faint dialogue stop. You stopped it.

"Do you...want to watch with me?"

He frantically searched for the episode, fighting for his life to get the ads off the screen.

"Hey, I know that noise," you remarked. "That's the blacklist notice! Say, August, you wouldn't be streaming illegally, would you?"

"You're going to arrest me?" he smirked, winding to the fourth minute. "Kinky."

He couldn't naturally vouch for it but he thinks you reddened. And he found it cute.

"No. Just concerned that you'll find Anna, 32, much more appealing. She's only 1 kilometre away."

It was his time to laugh.

"Don't worry about her. Not my type. I'm hot for ghostly voices whispering in my ear."

You splutter and, laughing quietly to himself, he interrupts your indignance.

"I'm at the fourth minute. Are you continuing to watch or not?"

"Yeah," you replied huffily. "I'm continuing."

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep that night. Or the next. Or the next. And after a year, his doctor declared his insomnia successfully treated.

"You're not watching at all," you whined into his ear and Yoongi pulled the blanket over his body.

"No, I am," he lied. "I'm watching it through your mind, silly."

You scoffed.

"What a bunch of nonsense. We share glamorized auditory hallucinations, not a mind link."

After a pause, all you hear are the familiar sounds of him already quietly snoring away.

"Good night...August."

JIN: He exhaled once, twice, thrice. It took him about three seconds to fully grasp what he was seeing and then with all the might of his tired legs Jin threw himself into the shower curtain and promptly knocked himself out against the tiled bathroom wall.

"Sir, please, calm down!" the nurse urged him frantically as Jin twitched on the bed.

"No, you don't understand! It was a ghost. A ghost! A ghost is haunting my bathroom!"

"Sir, please, there's no ghost!"

He glimpsed to the left and in the metal railing of the bed, he saw a reflection not of himself but of an entirely different face looking right back at him with the same concern.

Jin politely and very masculine screeched at the top of his lungs and graciously passed out amidst the mass of frightened hospital staff.

So...in the end, as it turns out, he was not haunted. The affirmation came in the form of two stocky SSA workers, coming to stop by his room with a thick wad of papers.

Sign here. Sign here. Sign here.

It appears that three years ago someone had registered in the I-SSA and while there were many different systems out there, all with their variations and complications, it was just Jin's luck, his beam of sunshine amidst the raging storm, to be in a system with the smallest amount of sharers. The abnormal diff-diffusion? He doesn't quite recall as he'd sat there head pounding away and sounds distant, staring at his own name and next to it the person, who according to the science of it all, was his soulmate.

But knowing was different from believing. Or at least, not shitting himself every time they stared at him in his own reflection.

"You got to cool it, man," Namjoon drawled in that pure sarcastic deadpan, patting away the soup that Jin had spilt as he lunged himself away from the spoon reflection in which a different eye was reflected through.

"At least, you can see them," Taehyung muttered bitterly, wiping the table clean and all fell silent.

Jin kept the mirrors covered anyhow. It was simply too freaky to witness an entirely different face in the stead of his, soulmate or not. Life proceeded as normal and while Jin kept himself busy and unthinking of possibilities, the lack or rather denial of his soulmate meant little to him. Until the very eve of winter. The first fresh snow had fallen over Seoul and stayed that way. The air was chill and crisp and the world was ready to slumber. At least this part of it. And on this night, no matter how long Jin stared at the fallen snow, he couldn't sleep. His heart was beating out of his chest and his mind raced.

He...felt it. Or rather you felt it and he sensed the echoes of it. Growing agitated over this sensation, he stomped towards the mirror, ready to...well, he was not quite sure what he was going to do but after yanking the towel onto the floor he forgot all about it. For the first time, you were not googling back at him, either in wonder or aggrievance but you were crying, gripping the sink with crushing strength. Crying like your entire soul was just split apart.

"What's wrong?" Jin aske timidly but you did not react. Visual must not also mean auditory. With shaking fingers he tapped the glass and this time you jumped in a way that was eerily familiar to his own. Landing on your ass, you cursed. Or he thinks you did from the way your lips curled.

He thought about it for a second and rushed away to fetch a lip balm before writing on the surface of the mirror.

"Hi."

You leaned your head to the side before, shivering, rising to stand. He watched intently as you dipped your hand underneath the water current and wrote back.

"Hi."

Jin exhaled, battling the urge to not pass out.

"Why cry?"

You gestured all around yourself and he recognized the sterile, removed environment of the hospital bathroom.

"Sick?" he wrote, feeling a heavy thud in his gut, something akin to missing a step in the dark.

"Yes. Tomorrow is the surgery."

He swallowed.

"Dangerous?"

You swallowed shakily and immediately Jin felt bad for asking.

"Moderate. I can live, I can die. All up to the doctors."

He too reaches to grip the sink and though he can't hear it, he can see you chuckling tearily. He frowns and you write.

"We even look the same. In a way."

Jin can offer only a shaky smile and even more guilt for shoving you away.

He was a horrible soulmate to have.

All day and next night he waits by the mirror and then finally when it's dark again, the snow falls in droves underneath the streetlamps and wind rushes through the alleys down below and finally, just before midnight, you appear in the mirror, shuffling in. You looked tired and worn but at least you're alive. Jin springs up.

You're the first one to write, having brought with you a lip balm as well.

"I lived. Clearly."

"Thank Heavens," Jin writes back feeling a rush of emotions dampen his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Gracious, you throw a hand at his words.

"I didn't want a soulmate before this. Thought I was...above it. Stupid really."

He smiles abashed and nods.

"You okay? Will be?"

"Yes, I will be okay," for a second, you lower your hands, gathering strength and then reach out. "You...do you want to talk more after this?"

"Hey, Jin, we're waiting for you!" Namjoon calls out, sticking a head through the door and he turns around.

"I'll be with you in five minutes."

Namjoon glimpsed at the defaced mirror.

"Hangman, really?"

Jin shrugged.

"We both like it. Scram now."

As he turned round he wrote "y".

j__n_y, stood on the surface and Jin sat deep in thought, then he guessed.

"Journey."

You sighed in defeat and confirmed his answer. Jin read the word again, committing it to memory.

"Text me when your plane lifts off," he wrote and you mimicked his soft smile.

"I will. See you in 16 hours."

Jin kissed his palm and pressed it against the mirror where your forehead stood.

"16 hours," he muttered back.

HOSEOK: "What do you think?" Jimin asked. "This one or this one?"

Hoseok merely arched an eyebrow.

"How would I be able to tell?"

Jimin lowered the hangers, with a guilty frown.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think."

Instantaneously, the despondent eyes made him feel guilty.

"Nevermind. I like the...uh left one."

Jimin twiddled guilty with the coloured fabric. A colour which Hoseok couldn't see.

"You want me to help you pick the outfit?"

Not to make him feel any sadder, Hoseok obliged.

Contrary to popular belief, being in the monochrome system sucked ass. He had nearly two million matches in the K-SSA registry, 32 million in the I-SSA and counting the 1% of margin error that amounted roughly to a 340 000 that could be his soulmate but wouldn't act that way due to genetic mutation. The more he thought of those numbers, the more alone he felt. Yoongi at least could hear his soulmate, Jin had seen them and was by now already moved in with them. Being in the more rare section of the soulmate systems they could at least have their soulmates traced via reading brain waves and other gibberish Hoseok never much understood. But no data could come from the monochrome system as the numbers were simply too overwhelming. False positives and false negatives were too great for a sensible person to take that chance. Which left only one option - the good old-fashioned meet and greet.

But with a planet of 8 billion people that chance was small. Growing ever so smaller with each passing day despite the technological advances. Even so, the airport was of late the favourite place of Hoseok's to be at. No place such as an airport to find someones all over the globe, grumpily and quite often with a foul odour, converging their different ways together. He tried to stay optimistic. As Taehyung bumped into him, sleep-ridden and tired, he indeed felt that there was a need to be optimistic. As much as he bitched, it didn't amount to the pain his friend was in at all times.

"Hey, just a little bit," he brushed Tae's fringe back to reveal two swollen eyes. He must have been crying either just now, or the entire night. Either way, it was an upsetting idea to have. Subtly, Hoseok pushed Taehyung into Jimin's direction who eagerly took care of his friend. But they all trodded along no matter how they felt.

"How was that episode good?" Yoongi asked and Hoseok frowned.

"What episode?" he questioned and Yoongi waved a hand, almost like one would when talking over a phone and someone interrupted.

"Oh, you're talking to...never mind," Hoseok grumbled, pushing his head further down.

The sky above the Atlantic Ocean was grey and uninspiring whilst the flight itself was excruciating. Though everything to him was grey. 14 hours in a box in the sky was not what Hoseok particularly enjoyed. Bored, he prodded at the desert. It was of a lighter hue, meaning a brighter colour. Yellow perhaps. Mango.

He took a spoon to his mouth. Strawberry. After all this time, one would think he'd be better at differentiating things. At least, he could remember colours, he thought wistfully, once again thinking of the positives. Some people were born with their bonds permanently established meaning they never knew colour. But Hoseok could at least remember - the colour of the sky, the sun, the green grass around his school. But it was in a way worse. If he could never have it again, it would ruin him. Strange. Such a simple thing really but he missed it dearly. What a weird way to bond people, by depriving them of the basics of life. Was it even love in the end? Or desperation driving them into some form of sick co-dependence?

Trying to be positive, didn't necessarily mean he was one as Hoseok had found out.

New York was a whirlpool. They had to rush fast to their cars through the halls of the airport, barely breathing and at this very moment, in one singular turn, Hoseok saw the beige of Taehyung's jumper.

The red of Jimin's scarf and the brown of Jungkook's eyes as he stared at him in wonder.

They couldn't stop. The insistent push of the bodyguards affirmed it so but if Hoseok suddenly saw the one thing that only his soulmate could grant then that meant his soulmate was not just near. Their eyes had met.

And he held no recognition.

He whipped to look around, the twin sensations of the flashing camera lights and the sheer amount of colours, of their shades and hues, had his head swimming but he saw no one. No one was looking with the echo of the realization, no one seemed to be interested in him any more than the rest. Interested in him as j-hope, the star, not Hoseok, the soulmate.

"We need to keep going," his bodyguard whispered, trying to professionally haul him away.

"No, I...I just met my soulmate. I need to stay!"

But the man did not listen. The crowd swarmed closer and closer and without much more say in the situation, he found himself sitting numbly in the backseat of the car. The neon signs blinded his eyes and for the first time in his adult and teenage life, Hoseok saw the rainbow cascading off the singular snowflake clinging to the window of the black car.

JIMIN: He pushed back your hair from your sweaty forehead.

"Feels so good," he moaned onto your lips. "You feel so good."

When the familiar knot unwound it felt like a truck, or a high-speed train running him down and into a cliff. But somehow pleasantly. Jimin swears he could see the true meaning of the universe, the very makeup of what created the entire life in moments like these. But even so his favourite, to his heart, was the second after, for the crudeness of it all, bust a nut within you, when he laid, holding your body close and panting together in the warm room. He felt brave tonight for once and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. It was all sweaty and damp but he did not mind. It was the only kind of closeness he could have with you.

Five blissful minutes passed and you roused, pushing him away. Gently but still you did. After rushing to the bathroom, you came back to get dressed. Jimin reached to trace a finger on your back as you dragged a shirt over your head.

"Can't you stay?" he hums. There was a scar right above the curve of your hip and he ghosted over it. You didn't like him focusing on your scars.

"I like my own place," you reply casually. "Paid a lot for it."

That was, of course, only an excuse. Jimin may or may have not met another ex-hookup of yours and you had stayed with them. They made you breakfast.

And Jimin wanted to make you breakfast more than anything else.

"Right," he sinks into himself, wanting to stop but not being capable to do so. "Can you...kiss me...before you go?"

Pathetic. To beg like this. But he wanted you to madness.

Perhaps, you looked slightly unsettled but indulged him nonetheless. The way you kissed was like feeling a new breath in his lungs. He didn't understand what about you was so intoxicating but he wanted you around all the time. Your presence was like a wet cloth on the fevered head, a gulp of fresh air after spending hours in a stuffed room.

It was no exaggeration that he was growing obsessed.

And you thought of him as a hookup.

"See you later," you said, stroking his cheek once and the next was the door falling shut. Jimin sighed, rapidly crashing from the height of happiness to the pit of misery. But if anything could distract him it was the horrible pain suddenly flaring through his shin.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he cursed, cradling the limb.

He honestly thought his soulmate should be nothing but a mangled piece of flesh by now. Ever since 14 years old, he felt nothing but pain from them. And despite it being the main takeaway from sharing the sensations type of bond, he should also be in technicality receiving happy emotions but no. There was none. Just anxiety and regular pain.

Though, in fairness, Jimin assumed he gave off much of the same. Remembering the long practices, and the muscle cramps, he could only recoil. When the ache finally ceased he lays on top of the sheets again brushing the empty space next to him. Soulmate perhaps, but all he wanted was you. If you'd be next to him, he'd look for no one else ever again. Which was stupid, who falls into love with their fuck..fuck-something.

"Literally every protagonist in a romance story," Jungkook muttered before making a loud gagging noise. Jimin almost had half the intention of lodging a spoon in his throat before he hurriedly explained.

"It's not to you! It's just that dumbass is eating sugar. Pure sugar!" he heaved, face getting read. "Oh, I hope their teeth have so many holes they need to eat nothing but carrots!"

"You want to taste nothing but carrots for the rest of your life?" Jimin snarked and Jungkook paused.

"Guess not."

Suddenly Jimin's elbow flared up.

"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed, wincing and rubbing the spot. "How many times a day can this person be hurt?!"

"Hey, guys, why are there so many people outside?" Taehyung asked in confusion, hooking his headphones off. Sirens soon blared and as they looked on, through the crowd, they could see someone laying in the middle of the street. Unmoving.

"Oh shit, is that blood?" Jungkook gasped.

The police coordinated off the area pushing the mass away and to Jimin's surprise, you stepped out of one of the cars with a camera attached to your neck. To even more of a shock, you began to take pictures and Jimin questioned how was it that he didn't know you were a CSI or whatever they were called when suddenly you tripped and fell down, slamming your chin against the unforgiving ground.

"Oh, that must hurt," Taehyung and Jungkook drawled together but Jimin stayed quiet. His chin was killing him.

And what were the chances of that?

"Sensation-coded systems tend to be of more emotional intensity as they echo the same level of chemical fluctuation between persons on top of their own."

As Jimin had learned it at school, he still had it scrabbled somewhere in the high school notebook, touch equated to chemical changes in the body. Dopamine and serotonin increase and in a sensation-coded system, person A could not only feel their own increase but also person B's and vice versa. This is why perhaps he felt like he was breathing new breath when he kissed you. Because he just might.

He can't stop shaking as he texts you to come over, despite doing it hundred times before. But this was different wasn't it? If he was right, he could lose you, if he was wrong, he could also lose you. Either way, he lost. But he had to know. Otherwise, he would be bitter his entire life.

You hug him the second you step over the threshold but for the first time, Jimin steps away. Immediately you frown.

"Something wrong?" you ask and he swallows hard.

"I...I made dinner," actually he ordered it, not wanting it to be bad. "You want to eat?"

He knows you know it was phrased as a question out of politeness. During dinner which is not at all strained into near incapacitating silence, Jimin may or may not drink. A lot. To cope.

"Please, just tell me what it is," you finally break. "Or I'll combust spontaneously."

"I didn't know you were a CSI," he trailed off and you froze.

"Yeah, well, it's not a pretty job and also CSI," you gestured at yourself then at him. "An idol? Doesn't make much sense."

"Maybe it does," he says, shaking again and at last gathering all the courage left in his bones to pinch his arm, so hard it hurt. You flinch as well.

Another blanket of silence descends over the room.

"I think we need to talk."

TAEHYUNG: All he remembers clearly is the pause of uncertainty, the step taken between the childish innocence and the brutal adult reality. The reality of death which in this case was a red string cut short and fraying at the end of his pinky when it should have been stretching across the seas and dreams, across despair and misery. And it's on this hot summer afternoon, sunny and perfect, that Taehyung learns that love does not conquer all.

The office of the IBSSCI, the International Bureau of Soulmate System Crime Investigation respectively, is by far more shabby than he ever pictured. When Taehyung is brought into this two-story building it doesn't look like anything more than some chic obsessed, eco brutalism wannabe cafe he could honestly trip upon in certain streets of Seoul. The office in whose uncomfortable chairs he's been sat in is the size of the closet and looks like one as well. This person was grody. The half-eaten sandwich and cold cup of coffee were all the proof he needed.

____________ ______________, he reads on the glass plaque, you're a pig.

Someone walks in. A mountain of folders on two legs as far as he can see.

"Sorry about the wait, Mr Kim," they huffed. "The printer jammed and you see these papers," with a heavy thud, they dropped it on the desk, falling into the chair with an exhausted sigh. "Is no joke."

He nodded mutely along feeling like it was appropriate to do so.

"Do you want any coffee or tea?" you offered, pushing the mountain away and casting him a weirdly patronizing smile. Immediately, Taehyung bristled.

"Not if it's made like that," he pointed at the dirty cup.

"Depends on what you answer," the smile on your face didn't even flinch. "You do realize why you're here."

"Being scammed is not a crime," he scoffed.

"It is not," you agreed. "But if you gave nearly half a million to one shady group whose to say you won't do it again?"

He wrenched his eyes shut. He didn't mean to. But one by one the guys kept finding their soulmates, hell, even Hoseok, the actual fucking monochrome-based bond found his love. While Taehyung was happy for his friend he was also happy to have someone to be as miserable as him as selfish as it was.

And what would be the worst, he had thought, he would just lose his money and he had plenty of it. For the chance of finding a soulmate, he would give every single thing he owned. The clothes on his body, the sheets on his bed, all of it.

But the worst of it was actually murder. The scam group promised to find Taehyung a new person claiming the statistical basis of there being another in the case of death had in the end murdered one of the doctors who threatened to take this to the police and suddenly Taehyung found himself right in the heart of a criminal case. And while the scammers ran a high-level operation it didn't change the fact that Taehyung was now fundamentally a person involved in something as heinous as murder and it was his money that had guaranteed some of them to escape to international seas.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I understand," they spoke and for once they didn't sound mocking. "But Mr Kim, you have money and that is power. You must not give that power out of desperation."

As he opened his eyes, he saw them pushing a paper across the desk, their gloved hand tapping twice at it.

"This is, as you must know, a recovery form in the case of losing a soulmate. The program consists of 18 weeks of mandatory therapy, regular check-ins for a year as well as signing an oath of not partaking in any schemes or offers of finding or rebonding with a new soulmate that if breached can and will be held in court of law. Do you understand?"

He gazed blankly into their eyes, limbs growing stiff.

"Taehyung!" Jimin called out.

"No, you don't get to speak! You don't get to pretend you understand! You have your soulmate! You have a chance! I was robbed of one! You will never understand what that's like!"

As he blinked the memory faded away but still, he felt no one will ever understand what that was like.

"Do you have a soulmate?" he croaked, fiddling with the pen meant to sign the form.

The person blinked and their lips thinned.

"I suppose I did," they said with ease but also with a thin veil of clearly deep inner sadness. "They died when I was an infant."

Taehyung sat straighter.

"So you know what that feels like? To be robbed, cruelly robbed not choosing, not doing wrong but not having anything from the start?"

He grimaced in order not to cry.

"I do but inflicting hurt on others...trying these insane methods and schemes," you trailed off. "It will do no good. No good for you, for anyone. It is evil for the sake of evil and that's it."

You offered him a tissue and he took it gratefully. Perhaps you were not so bad. Despite being grody.

Taehyung signed the form and with weary, tired legs, trailed after you to the main exit.

"As the person assigned to this case, I will be overseeing your check-in period," you explained navigating the cement stairs seemingly spiralling in all logical and illogical directions.

"You're a social worker as well?" Taehyung ironized roughly and you offered him a crooked smile.

"Budget cuts."

As you scanned your ID the doors flashed red.

"Oh, come on," you wiped the chip on the card against your pants but no such luck. Again and again, it flashed red. Finally, with a loud growl of annoyance you yanked the black glove off your left hand to wipe the chip by hand and on it, Taehyung saw a string.

A red string.

Around your pinky.

Cut and frayed in the middle.

Exactly like his.

It unfurled on the ground and dazed Taehyung reached to grasp it. He held the thin yarn like a dying butterfly and pulled at last gently its end. Your hand moved along with it.

JUNGKOOK: He really wants to be happy. And he is. Somewhere underneath the surging wave of anger, he is really happy. And he'll show it to you one day. After he's done scolding you.

Because in the exact moment where he walks through the street, late in the evening, cold rain pouring on his umbrella, he glances through the window of a restaurant and sees a person shoving an entire sugar cube on their tongue.

He feels sugar explode in his mouth.

Pure, unrefined, choking sugar.

And the next thing he knows he's pointing a finger in your unsuspecting face.

"You piece of shit! You actual dumbass!" he yells and people around him are startled. Though none more than you. You, whose sitting in your stupid seat and whose stupid sugar-addicted mouth still chews on that sugar cube like a horse.

"Does dental hygiene means nothing to you? Diabetes?! Health overall?!" he keeps pointing at you at every single word to portray the full scope of what tasting constant sugar every day for consecutive 18 years does to a person.

"How many holes do you have in your teeth right now?! Tell me!"

You blink up at him owlishly and also part terrified. Even the music of the restaurant seems somewhat muted as the crowd looks on at this, the most bizarre of lover's quarrel.

And he shouldn't, he really shouldn't, but he finds it cute.

"Three," you mutter demurely and a pout forms on your lips. Jungkook wonders if they're sweet as well. Should be considering the amount of sugar you consume.

"Just went to a dentist..."

"And you're still swallowing sugar cubes?! WHOLE ASS SUGAR CUBES?!"

"YOU EAT RAMEN AT 3 AM!" you yell back, a sudden fire gaining in your eyes. "OR DRINK SOME SHIT LIKE ICE CUBED VINE!! AND YOU'RE BLAMING ME FOR SUGAR WHEN YOU'RE OUT HERE COMMITTING GASTRONOMICAL WAR CRIMES?!"

And now this one Jungkook shouldn't, he really should not, but he finds you yelling at him hot.

And he wants to know what you taste like.

"YOU EVER WONDERED THAT THE REASON WHY I EAT SO MUCH SUGAR IS TO MASK THE HORRENDOUS ABOMINATIONS YOU PUSH DOWN YOUR THROAT?! AND DON'T EVEN THINK I HAVEN'T TASTED SOMEONE ELSE'S CU-"

In the end, they're kicked out. You stand in the rain, pouting and glaring at him in earnest and whilst doing the same he extends the umbrella over your head.

"I don't like you," you scoff and he does the same.

"Neither do I."

"You're a pig of an eater."

"You're a sugar addict."

A pause.

"I'm leaving," you huff, making no indication to leave.

"Then go," Jungkook snaps, actually taking a step closer.

He thinks he tastes anxiety on his tongue. Whether it's his own or yours he can't tell.

"You're overbearing," you mutter while slightly moving forth.

"You're insufferable," Jungkook is not far behind, neither in space nor insults. He wraps a hand around your waist and finds it perfect. The way you press against him is perfect.

"You make me nauseous," you whisper, gaze dropping to his pierced lip.

"I'm absolutely sick of you," he breathes the air you exhale and then closes the small space and learns what you taste like.

When the umbrella falls out of his hands and falls upon the rain-soaked pavement, he tastes rainwater in his mouth. And as expected that too tastes sweet.

© soraviii, 2022

tagging: @introlxv; @pinkcherrybombs; @devilsbooksworld; @btsiguess-kpop; @mwitsmejk; @belladaises; @mwitsmejk; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @personaarmy; @flitzerj;