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syubits · 1 year

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vena amoris

literally, "vein of love" witch!jungkook ∞ reader

“So. Are you going as a zombie to the party?”

The spoon from your mouth drops, clinks to the hardwood floor, but thankfully your grip on the cup of ice cream is stronger as you flinch at the sudden voice coming from next to you.

“Jesus.”

“No, it’s Jungkook,” the boy replies, bunny teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to stop the chuckle spilling out at his own joke – which came out as a snort anyway. He’s been hanging around Jin too much.

“I told you not to do that teleportation thingamjig. What if I was changing? Also… the others could be around.” At that, Jungkook goes still for second, eyes widening at the realisation. It wasn’t a surprise he had mastered yet another ability again, and according to him he was one of the few witches in his level to be able to execute the spell, but as much as you shared his joy, you needed to remind him not to get overexcited for his own sake. After all, you were the only one who knew his secret after walking in on him eating cereal with a levitating spoon while both hands were occupied with the Switch in his hands as he tried to catch Gigantamax. It was rather comical seeing him freezing mid-crunch on cornflakes, the spoon forgotten but still floating next to his mouth. To his surprise (and relief), you weren’t all over him with questions, and you pretended as if nothing happened at all. But to cut short the story, Jungkook was simply a transfer student from a very distant and secluded community – which explains how he is not very familair to social norms. The community being the witch and wizardry world, except no one knows that. Except you.

You still remember his panicked look when his secret was discovered, as if he wasn’t the one who could perform spells like erasing your memory or casting you into a dark universe or something along those lines. You wonder if those were possible, but you remember you’re curious about something else now.

“Jungkook. What party?”

“The umm… Taehyung mentioned something about it.” He plops onto your bed, looking a little too big for the single, pink bed.

“Jungkook, Taehyung goes to like… every party. Everyone asks him and he asks everyone along.” Which was how you met Jungkook in the first place. Taehyung had asked (dragged) him along to Jisoo’s birthday party, and you wanted to wince imagining how awkward it must’ve been for the poor junior. Even though you were quite acquainted with all the 2nd years there, it was easy to feel out of place in that huge apartment. Taehyung got whisked away by a bunch of seniors promptly after introducing him to you, and it was only after 10 minutes of Awkward Fruit Punch Silence when you caught sight a Tsukishima keychain dangling with his keys that a conversation started. You could still vividly recall the way his eyes widened in excitement when you pointed it out.

Jungkook juts out his lower lip. “Oh. You’re right. Ah! The one with Satan?”

You twist in your chair to face him, eyebrows shooting up. “The WHAT?”

“The big and red man… with the white beard.”

“…You mean Santa?”

“Ah, yes! Santa!” Jungkook quickly points in your direction, as if catching onto the word and pinning it to his memory.

“Ah – Hobi’s Christmas party! Right!I already told them I can’t make it because I have this final assignment due –”you trail off, looking up. “Wait. What do you mean, if I’m ‘going as a zombie’?”

“I thought people dressed up for the year-end parties… and you –”

“That’s Halloween.. which was back in October… and I’m not going today so I’m not dressed as anything,” you purse your lips and give him a pointed look. “Are you saying I look like a zombie right now?”

“Ehm…” Jungkook eyes widen slightly as the awareness of what he’d just implied sets in. “No,” is all he says, scratching his jaw and suddenly he is very interested in your floor tiles. You huff, trudging past him with your cup of ice cream and throwing yourself backwards on the couch in your small living room with a loud smoosh. Jungkook was probably right. Your eyebags were probably heavier than the entirety of cushions on the couch, and you couldn’t even remember the last meal you had that wasn’t ice cream or those dry, square biscuits. At least you were 98% done with the assignment.

“_________.”

Not bothering to turn your head, you let your eyes flicker to where he was standing in the doorway of your room. He grimaced, and you fought the urge to groan. You’re not trying to give him a death stare, but you could admit that with the way you look right now anyone would think you need to be exorcised.

“I want to show you something.”

You waited, silence urging him to go on. Another magic spell? Or a new ability he picked up? Maybe he can magically finish your essay.

“I mean, some place.”

At this, you loll your head to one side almost lifelessly and shut your eyes. “Now? Jungkooook. You know I can’t go out,” you whined.

“I know, I know, but you don’t really have to go out. I can bring you there,” he says earnestly. You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s probably leaning forward, anticipating and all doe-eyed like he always does whenever he’s asking for something. It works well with Jimin, Hoseok too but not as effective with you. As long as you keep your eyes closed, that is.

“How do you ‘bring me there’, without me going out?” you knit your brows together. You want to be confused, but you’re too tired to.

“Same way as when I came here?” he replies, nonchalantly.

You lift your head up and look at him from your sprawled position on the couch. “You’re kidding me.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “I’m serious.”

“And you’ve tried this before…?”

“I’m sure it will work,” is all he answers.

You give him a pained look.

“No, I’m sure sure.” He’s seen how other witches did it before. The upperclassmen lurking and snacking in the corridors in groups winking out of existence the moment a councillor walks down the hallway – it’s said in the books he’d found too – as long as the caster’s hands were snug around the other person’s wrist, thumb touching the cord of vein found, you could easily transport another person other than yourself. In the older literature, the term vena amoris –vein of love – appeared often, since it was said that the vein would lead directly to the heart, (read: soul) of the person. The term actually appeared a lot and it wasn’t so suprising because many spells, from trivial to dangerous would involve this.

Silence. A weight settled itself on the tiny bit of space left on the couch before you hear Jungkook’s voice flitter to you, soft and small, like a faint tinkle. “Please? Trust me.”

You felt your jaw tick at that. Of course you trusted him. But…

“Pleaseee.”

A quiet sigh and you sat up. “Fine.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up, and it’s bright and merry and might as well rival the ornaments at Hoseok’s party. And Hoseok has a lot of them.

He extended his hand towards you, latching onto your wrist and thumb gently brushing the inner side. “Stand up for a bit,” he makes to tug on your hand, and you acquiesce.

His other arms wraps around you, pulling you close. You don’t question anything but Jungkook can tell you’re tense by the way you stiffen slightly. “Trust me,” his voice is soft when he says it again. You nod, a little too sharply and you feel the hand on your wrist brush the circumference of it again. Jungkook is unsure if the staccatoed beats came from your pulse or his as he attunes his energy with yours for the spell. Either way, he never noticed the faint fragrance of strawberry mint in your hair that tickles his nose pleasantly when you lean in closer.

You don’t see much more than feel the process – there wasn’t a sudden whoosh or any falling sensation – just a brief shift of surroundings as if a jigsaw puzzle was taken apart briefly before other pieces are slotted in to make up a brand new picture. A slight movement from both your feet creates a delicious crunch of dead leaves under your heel and you slowly turn, trying to figure out your surroundings. It’s dark, but all it takes is a lift of his fingers and fairy lights come to life, almost winking at you as they prettily line the roof of a lone gazebo sitting at the end of a short bridge. Even the reflection of the gazebo glitters picturesquely on the surface of the pond.

“Whoa,” the word escapes in whisper, as if you’re scared any kind of volume would shatter the spell.

“Wanna go sit?” Jungkook asks, earning a nod from you.

“How did you find this place? Wait, is that the city behind the trees?” You see the peak of tall buildings, the familiar red LOTTE sign in the distance.

“Yup,” he answers, popping the ‘p’ in the word. “I was making deliveries the other day to some building and took the wrong turn. It’s in some kind of park but not many of them come here too often so I thought I’d show you.”

“You got lost? Can’t you just teleport yourself or magically drive your bike…?” You notice Jungkook lightly brushing off the bench before you sat, but he stops halfway to give you a look. He means it to be a disapproving frown, but it turns out to be a cute pout.

“But it’s more fun without magic. I get to see many things and people,” he explains offhandedly, before taking a seat next to you. He rests his back on the railing, stretching his legs out in front of him while you lean back on your palms to look out at the water. Your fingers touch softly, and Jungkook resists the urge to curl his fingers around your hand. “Although I did use it for the fairy lights,” he bares his bottom teeth in a squarish sort-of smile.

“Really? Wow, talent,” you say, lolling your head lazily towards him and side eyeing him from under your lashes. “Next thing you know you’ll come up with some charm spell or whatever.”

Jungkook raises his brows in surprise. “Actually, I am working on it,” he says, turning to you and tilting his head to one side.

You regard him carefully, eyes narrowing into slits and bursting out into laughter when he waggles his brows. “Is it working?”

Your peals of laughter bubble down with a sigh, coloured with content, tainted with exhaustion from the past few days’ worth of working. Nevertheless, your lips are upturned prettily and Jungkook lets a small smile settle on his lips. “Pretty sure our Jungkookie doesn’t really need to come up with a spell to charm people,” you reply. His eyebrows shoot up and disappear under his chestnut brown bangs, giving you a exaggeratingly shocked expression.

“A compliment from you? I’m honored,” he bends in a small bow, a hand on his heart. He ignores the tha-thumps he feel under the sweatshirt that are skipping faster than normal and he curses himself for the fairy light stunt. Maybe he’d just say it was cold if you noticed and asked why his ears were pink under the lights.

“Oh. Why do you have to put your hand on my wrist for the spell? That was such a specific location.”

“It helps with the process. I read it in a book. Give me your hand.”

Without questioning it, you offer him your other hand.

“See here,” he traces your down your fourth finger, in a straight line downwards and stops at your wrist. “It’s called vena amoris – the vein of love. It’s believed to run directly to your heart, so some spells especially binding ones mention it.” He continues to trail his finger down, sweeping about halfway down your arm before he pulls away.

“Oh,” you say. “I learned something new. Is that why most of us wear rings on our fourth finger on our left hand?”

Jungkook makes a clicking sound, pointing finger guns at you. “Bingo.”

“And mind-reading?”

“That’s…kinda… Eh. It’s fairly more complicated.”

“But! You know those carnivals where they take your hand and do fortune telling or mind reading.”

“Nah. They’re fakes.” He wrinkles his nose, as if taking offence for their existence.

“Well. I guess we’ll have to stick with the old penny for your thoughts method. Penny for your thoughts?”

“What does that mean?” Jungkook raises his brows, eyes wide.

“Like… usually people say that when they see people zoning out or something to ask what they’re thinking of.”

“Yo-“ You. “You-ghurt. I mean… yoghurt.”

“That’s… random. What flavour? I might have some in the fridge back home…”

“Strawberry.” The scent of your shampoo.

“Pretty sure there’s still a few left. You can have them when we get back.”

He makes a small hum of acknowledgement, the sound soft like his eyes as they gaze out to pond.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

Another soft hum. “Do you feel better?”

You almost ask what he means, you weren’t feeling particularly down – but you do feel much better now that you think about it. Jungkook instantly smiles when you nod, looking very accomplished as if he just figured out how to cast another spell. Speaking of...

“Whoa,” he hears you gasp. The flowers nearby start to illuminate, pretty hues of pink, blue and maroon that look like faeries above the water. “That’s... enchanting.”

The dark haired witch scoffs, almost says not enchanting as you, but manages to stop himself just before you shove at his shoulder. To you he might just sound like he was showing off, but if you asked he would gladly show you the world if he could.

Jungkook sighs. You weren’t a witch, but how is it that you’ve charmed him so much? He should really head to the library and see if he can find some answers. Maybe half-witches existed.

“You still up for Hobi’s party?” you ask. You’re not sure what time it is but knowing Hobi, he always has an After Party. And knowing the other boys, you could arrive at 3am and it would be like the party has just started.

Jungkook shrugs. “Only if you are.” The silence stretches as you contemplate on your choice. Hm. Surely a little fun wouldn’t hurt.

“We can go maybe a little later. But let’s stay a bit longer, together?”

Jungkook nods and smiles. He liked that word.

“Okay. Together.”

#bts scenario #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #writing #merry christmas yall.#AND HAPPY NEW YEAR

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syubits · 2 years

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#he reminds me of ... Han seojun #also what the hell they didn't update it this week #the free new chapter at least.#I THOUT ** * *** * *#but no. I have to wait till next week

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syubits · 2 years

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what should I write next.

#the urge to write only comes when i have to do things that are NOT writing

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syubits · 3 years

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The fact there are thin mints implies there are thicc mints.

#hyyh pt2 Yoongi VS jimin

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syubits · 3 years

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haunted house adventures ∞ enemy!jungkook

boo :P sister fic to scintilla

“But why.”

“Because Jimin wants to go with Namjoon, and I want to go with Hobi,” Yoongi says with a shrug of his shoulder. The blatant indifference in his answer makes you want to pick up one of the plastic pumpkins and hurl it at his head, but even you think it’s too early into the night to get into an argument with any of them.

“But I don't want to go with Jungkook.”

“Then go alone,” Yoongi replies shortly. You bite out a ‘fine’, crossing your arms for a good measure. Hoseok frowns over his (Yoongi’s) scarf wrapped around his neck, a worry wrinkle creasing the space between his brows.

“That’s not safe, go with Jungkook,” concern etched in his tone. Yoongi is lucky you love Hoseok enough to not have clocked his boyfriend in the face by now, but this time you are adamant to stand by your words.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll text you if anything,” you insist, softer this time. “Besides. He’s not even -”

“Here.” The actual demon of the carnival emerges through the gates, clad in a tight black shirt and jeans, his loyal red beanie the only colour striking out from the dark outfit. It’s a simple look, but enough to make heads turn and people gawk with cotton candy stuffed in their mouth.

“So that’s settled. See you all back here in an hour or so!” Namjoon announces, and suddenly everyone is gone.

Great. You grumble a little under your breath, briefly sending Jungkook an annoyed glance before walking off, heading towards the haunted house entrance. You carefully avoid the zombies and masked characters on the way - you weren’t scared, but they tended to chase carnival visitors for fun and you definitely did not want to be sweaty and panting in front of Jungkook.

You walk past the merry-go-round, then the huge twinkling Ferris wheel, loopy whimsical carnival music playing in the background, almost as loud as the colours adorning the carnival tents and rides around you. The rest of the boys are ahead of you, and you can already see Yoongi tugging a paling Hoseok inside. You watch as Yoongi catches Hoseok’s wrist before their linked hands disappear inside his pocket just as they do behind the flap of the Haunted House tent.

“You scared?”

You don’t realise you’re standing in front of the rust-coloured tent already until Jungkook asks you with a smug grin. You scoff, nose upturned in a snobby, childish fashion and made your way inside haughtily, the lights behind fading in one swooping motion of the tent flap -

and almost fall over when Jungkook walks right into you.

“...Why are you just standing in the middle of nowhere?”

In a flurry of awkward movements, you crab-walked away from where you think he is standing. It’s not that you were scared, you just... couldn't see all that well in the darkness. A manic-looking clown jumps from your right with a shriek, earning a blank look from you and Jungkook. You both carry on past the huge cobwebs, dusty side tables and a bloody banshee perching on what looks like a broken chair without even flinching, and it would've been perfectly fine if—

“Ow!” You yell and grab on to your nose where it bumps into Jungkook’s hard back.

“What the hell... again?!” You hear more than see him whip around, squinting at the blurry form in front of you. “I knew it. You’re trailing right behind me ‘cuz you’re a. Scaredy. Cat.”

“I am NOT,” you cross your arms, then put it back down because it looked more defensive than you intended to. “Fine. I’ll walk in front to prove it to you.” You took two steps and step into a tangle of torn clothes and gracefully fall into a rusty vanity, the fake mirror wobbling precariously. You think you can see Namjoon instead of you in the reflection with the way you have been clumsily bumping into everything (read: Jungkook) the past ten minutes.

“_____? You dead?”

...Maybe you should just admit it so he would stop asking. “I can't see well in the darkness.”

“...What?”

“I can't see well in the darkness.”

“I heard you. That was a rhetorical question.” You purse your lips to keep a sigh from escaping it.

“Wait, so how did you navigate so far?”

You point to the red beanie glowing on top of his head like a cherry on ice cream. And somehow, in this darkness, you can see the twinkle of glee in his eye upon realising what you just said.

“Shut up,” you warn.

“I didn't say anything... But I have an idea.”

“Ugh,” you groan. “Keep it. We’re almost near the exit anyway. Look,” you point to large, wooden door with some light emanating from it.

“That’s a cupboard, and next to it is our dear Sir Freddy Krueger.” You can imagine Jungkook’s polite smile and the word ‘fool’ contained behind it.

“Oh... I thought that was you. Don't you have a similar red and black sweatshirt?” You think you hear a stifled chuckle from Freddy Krueger himself.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you before you feel something grabbing your hand.

“Wh- what the hell are you doing?!”

“Saving your pretty face from bumping into anything else.”

“Excuse me?! I can walk fine on my own,” you huff.

Pretty?

Jungkook jumps when Pennywise appears and does his creepily goofy dance, making you jerk up in a reverse domino effect. You don’t say anything about the way Jungkook squeezes your hand in surprise, and he doesn't say anything about the way you hold on tighter as you hurry past it.

Thankfully, Pennywise was the last thing you encountered before you escape the haunted room. You’re greeted with flashing lights from the swing ride opposite you and also the carnival staff who hands you free candy and a B-rated ghost mask which looked like what kids would get from gas station stores. It was also a chance to let go of your linked hands and pretend it never happened in the first place.

“Wait, wait,” you call out to Jungkook who was fixing his lopsided beanie. “How do ghosts confess to one another?”

“Huh?”

You plaster the mask to your face. “Will you be my boo?” Typically, you'd get some sort of laugh from the other boys even if it was out of pity (Yoongi, Namjoon) but Jungkook just looks at you blankly before turning on his heel like he didn't hear anything.

Out here, it’s bright enough to notice it. “Your ears are-”

Jungkook yanks his beanie further down until it almost reaches the back of his neck.

It’s red, too.

#freddys outfit looks like jk's WOH fit #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #bts fluff #writing #bts halloween #Jungkook drabbles

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syubits · 3 years

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#sweetest

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syubits · 3 years

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fake dating au bc fake dating aus will never ever go wrong ∞ roommate yoongi

“No.”

“Yoongiiiiiiiiiii –”

“No.” His back is turned to you as he scours for some instant coffee in the pantry, but you can hear the flat-out rejection of your suggestion loud and clear, making you scowl.

Min Yoongi can predict a major sulk fest coming on like a storm, and sure enough the glance he sneaks to where you are sitting on the couch showed the telltale signs; a dark cloud settling down and casting a heavy glum look on your face. He controls the twitch of his lips and conceals it under a mask of what would be called apathy – knowing all too well any hint of a smile or amusement would bring the simmering anger to a full blown volcanic explosion on your side.

“Pleeeease. I only have you.”

If his heart stuttered at your words, Yoongi was sure not to let it show in his explicit movements as nimble, pianist fingers curling around the mug that he brings to his lips for a sip of the strong drink. Yoongi lets the warm caramel coloured rivulets course down his throat, eyes closed in deep rumination. Out of all the wacky ideas you had, this way by far the one that clinched the golden trophy. Although Yoongi wasn’t sure if he really disliked the notion of being your boyfriend, even if it was a pretend one for a period of two weeks.

“What do I get?”

You huff. “I don’t know. Whatever you want.” As soon as the words carelessly tumble from your lips you grimace, knowing you’ve practically sold your soul to the devil by letting Yoongi decide on the price.

“Whatever I want?” Yoongi repeats the tempting offer, interest piqued.

A groan sounds from the couch. “Yeeees.”

“You must be really desperate,” Yoongi lightly comments, setting the mug on the counter.

“I am,” you retort. “My ex-BF and my ex-crush will be there and I accidentally revealed I didn’t have plans for the week so…”

This makes Min Yoongi perk a brow. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” Your face pops up from the back of the couch, arms waving the misunderstanding away.

“No no, ex-best friend. Who is currently going out with my cr– err.. ex-crush.”

“Yikes,” is all Yoongi has to offer.

“I know,” you respond, slumping back into the cushions. You’re already racking your brain for ideas on how to bail, but with your mind a tangled mess like your hair, searching for a shred of an idea was equivalent to looking for a needle in a haystack. You groan out loud, flopping back into the cushions, almost missing Yoongi’s quiet sigh of fine.

Almost.

You jackknife up into a sitting position, grabbing the edge of the couch so hard your knuckles turn white. You were pretty sure you heard it, but you needed to hear it one more time just in case.

“What did you just say?”

Yoongi downs the rest of his coffee, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before turning to place the mug in the sink. “I’m not saying it again.”

He hears some trampling going on and before he can wonder what the fuck is going on, you’ve launched yourself towards his back in a hug, almost making the small man stumble at the sheer force of it. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you, I could kiss you right now,” you squeaked into the back of your roommate’s shirt, and Yoongi thanks the heavens because you can’t see how he shifts his gaze like he does when he’s shy.

“We don’t have to, though.” You quickly interject, almost placatingly. The most we have to do is hold hands in front of them, I think that should be enough,” you add. “So don’t worry about doing anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Yoongi just hums boredly in acknowledgment at the same time your phone rings. He doesn’t miss the roll of your eyes when you read the caller ID before you swipe right to pick up the call.

You hang up after a brief string of ‘yeahs’, turning to Yoongi who just gives you a curious look.

“So. When is it?” He drawls out as lazily as he starts to lay on his side on the couch. The sheepish look that crosses your features never indicated a good thing, and Yoongi pauses in the middle of retrieving his phone from the small coffee table to narrow his eyes suspiciously.

“Tomorrow.”

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Yoongi grumbles as he shoves the remaining stash of clothes into his duffel bag. The zipper looks almost ready to pop with the way he forces it over the other end of the bag, and you wince pitifully for the innocent thing.

“It’s the same thing, we’re gonna stay together and all, except this time it’s going to be in a nice little resort in the hills. Just consider it like a getaway,” you say, stringing the sentence as sweetly as possible. The dark haired boy just glares at you from his spot on the floor, and you immediately purse your lips.

“Fucking finally,” he rolls his eyes when the bag zips all the way. “What are you standing there for, kid? Don’t we have a train to catch?”

You frown at the nickname he’s plastered on you for the past year, shaking your head in response to his question. “They’re picking us up. And stop calling me that, we’re supposed to be a couple.” You remind him with a flick to his forehead.

“What’s wrong with someone calling their significant other kid?”

Yoongi never liked people. He didn’t like small spaces either. He definitely didn’t like small spaces full of people.

Which was why there was no rational explanation to how he ended up in a 4-seater car crammed with 6 people. Yoongi was never one for technicalities, didn’t give a shit about them, but at the moment he has a headache because right about everything didn’t make sense, but he’s hanging in there with at least Namjoon isn’t here to preach about how nothing in the world makes sense. That with a side of 5 chaotic boys to add on to the dull throbbing in his head, amidst the background of music booming in the car – these people should be banned from getting aux cords – but. At least you were here to agree. Even if you had fallen asleep on his shoulder a for little more than half a hour, and he regretfully had no one to talk to now. It was a little disappointing, even for Yoongi who didn’t particularly enjoy talking.

Yoongi tilts his head in some sort of reaction to his inner monologue, a sudden pang of damn, he really doesn’t like a lot of things hitting him like a flick to the forehead. He would’ve pondered on about any rational, logical possible explanation to why he was in this shithole of an idea, but a niggling, all too-knowing echo of an answer in the back of his mind was all it took and Yoongi quickly decided he didn’t like to think. Especially if it was going to involve you.

He feels you shift slightly in your seat, huddling closer to his arm that you had claimed for yourself. If Yoongi leaned back far enough, he can see your lashes fanning over and lightly dusting the apples of your cheeks with how tightly shut your lids are, down the slope of your nose to your parted lips where your breath escapes in small, even, warm puffs.

For some reason, a sigh swells up in his chest, and it escapes the seam of his lips quietly just as he tears his gaze away to focus on the moving scenery out the window.

At least he was given the window seat. This was going to be a long ride.

“Wake up, sleepyheads.”

You’re being shaken awake, not all too gently by Yuna, who then moves to nudge Yoongi in a significantly softer manner. It takes a while for you to get your bearings, because all you can see is greenery around, and after a few minutes you stop caring and let your head fall on Yoongi again, who appeared to be fast asleep. The boy had waken up the first time he was told to, eyes instantly searching for your sleepy figure that was still latched onto his arm. He swears internally when he sees your sleepy eyes and right cheek lined with creases from the sleeve of the jacket you had slept on, because that has got to be the cutest fucking thing he had ever seen and he thinks he’s probably still dreaming, and decides to continue sleeping a little bit more.

“Yoongiii.” His brow twitches. “We’re here. Wake up.”

He feels a soft, terribly aimed poke near the corner of his bottom lip, and with much difficulty opens his dreadfully heavy eyelids to see you regarding him with droopy eyes, laced with almost lazy catlike curiosity.

Before Yoongi can gulp down the sudden lump that had formed in his throat for whatever reason, you blink out of it and grab his hand to tug him out of the car. There’s a chill in the air, not so sharp it pierces through bones but just enough to tickle your cheeks pink and make your breath fog – something that you’re entertaining yourself with, as Yoongi notes. He takes it upon himself to unload your baggage and his combined, frowning extra hard to hide the smile tugging at his lips when you come running like an excited puppy upon his summon to retreat towards the luxurious lodge up front.

Dinner was all too dreaded. It also came all too soon. That was how you and Yoongi found yourselves sat at a table opposite two other couples, Yura with Hyunsik, and your two ex classmates Mina and Jin (whose parents owned the lodge). You had done introductions a while back, and Yoongi remained pretty neutral until he was introduced to Hyunsik. He had the gall to give you a disapproving look, even showing a three out of ten under the table and then shrugging when you give him a death glare.

“So, how did you two meet?” With a cock of her head, Yuna twirls a perfectly curled lock of hair around a perfectly manicured finger. Yoongi pays her no mind, continuing to stuff some chicken into his mouth with no intentions of answering. You resist giving him the stinkeye for leaving it all up to you, but then again you considered yourself lucky he was even sitting next to you at this table.

“Well, we met at school,” you start off promisingly, slowly munching on a piece of meat in a way of stalling some time while your mind quickly worked on pieceing together a story. “I didn’t like him at first.” A snort was all that was elicited from the boy next to you, which you trampled down on by stomping on his foot. “But we had to spend some time together on a project… and everything just kind of hit off from there…?”

From the corner of your eye you see as Yoongi shoots you a look of wow, so very convincing before shoving an entire lettucewrap in his mouth, and you grind your heel into his toes harder.

“Romantic,” the word drips from her lips, sickly sweet, with a maraschino cherry on top. The colour painted on her lips was of the same shade as well, pulled into a smile to show a set of perfectly lined teeth. “I would tell about how me and Hyunsik met, but everyone knows it’s all thanks to you.”

Despite being over Hyunsik for a few months, Yura’s words sent a bitter twinge of discomfort in your chest that had you tightening the grip on your spoon.

“Can you pass the fish?”

All heads, yours included, turned to Yoongi, whose tone, while not overbearing, cuts through the conversation like ice. Jin is polite, and so hands over the plate of grilled fish with all mannerisms of the perfect gentlemen. Yoongi stabs at the content on the plate with his chopsticks and puts a tantamount too much for someone his size, but no one says anything. He picks the meat apart from the bones, handing you the better portion of the fish, before picking up an eggroll and plopping it into your bowl of rice.

As always, his expression is unreadable when you turn to regard him, a quizzical look on your face. He finally looks up when he thinks you’ve stared long enough to burn a hole into the side of his face.

“What? Eat.”

You quickly gobble up the rest of your food.

“Thanks for that.” You murmur, suddenly wanting to swallows your words and hoping your voice was small enough to drown under the sound of running water and dishes clanking.

“For what?”

“Back there,” you hesitate, looking down at your hands after passing the plates to Yoongi for him wipe dry. You and Yoongi were stuck in the kitchen with the dishes, only because you both that agreed that you would choke from the noose of thick, awkward air if you hung around in the living room any longer, and then Yoongi whacked you in the head with an empty bottle for making a stupid pun.

Yoongi doesn’t respond to your mention of thanks, only looks down when he feels you tug at the bottom of his shirt. You signal for him to come close enough so he can hear you whisper, and he bends down in an uncharacteristically compliant manner.

“Hyunsik’s watching us right now.”

At the mention of his name, Yoongi feels a something akin to irritation crawl up his neck like an annoying gnat.

“And…?” Yoongi is close enough that his breath tickles the shell of your ear and makes the hair on your skin rise in goosebumps.

“And… I don’t think he’s buying our little act.”

“…And…?” You whine at his blatant disinterest in the conversation and where it was going.

“And…!! I don’t know,” you sigh, feeling all sorts of unmotivated and hopeless as you draw away from Yoongi. He can practically see the life whoosh out of your frame with how deeply you sighed. Hyunsik wasn’t wrong to be curious – the two of you had barely done anything that bordered on romantic – just sat next to each other the whole day, although Yoongi had ardently insisted that was actually, quite romantic as hell.

But Yoongi also sees the way your brows are wrinkled with worry, and guesses you’re probably thinking about how stupid you are and being regretful and guilty for dragging him into this. That first part he would agree with, but something uneasy stirs inside him knowing you’re probably thinking up a storm about feeling like a burden to him because you never have been and never will be. Something cool touches your forehead, and you can barely restrain the soft gasp that slips from your mouth as you look up. Yoongi is pressing his forehead to yours in the most innocent but affectionate gesture, arms surrounding you, depthless eyes dark as ink fully focused on yours.

“Don’t worry so much.”

“I know.” You hear him tsk at your stubborn reply. “I just…”

“You’re overthinking again. Stop it.” He expects a retort, but is presented with a pleasant surprise when you lean into his warmth submissively, burying your nose in the front of his jacket that held a faint lingering scent of his familiar, musky cologne.

Yoongi doesn’t get to decide in time what to do with your sudden display of need for affection before your names are called from the hall. You pull away as Yoongi internally groans how he just missed his chance to run his fingers through your very soft-looking hair, appearing from the kitchen with a deep scowl on his face.

“Truth or dare? What are we, 16?” This was Yoongi’s 142nd complaint in just a span of four hours, and the 143rd time you had shushed him. You pull him down to sit next to you on the floor, making a circle with the others around the beer bottle in the middle.

Yura spins the bottle, and of fucking course it lands on Yoongi first, whose lips cannot get any more pursed.

“Truth.”

“Boooring,” you jeer and Yoongi wants to gag you, and then kind of swallows because actually, actually. That is kind of hot. And the images that begin to play in his artistic, creative and predominantly detail-oriented mind is enough to make his mouth go dry.

“How far have you gotten...with _______?” Yuna asks, a little glint in her eye.

He answers with the calm before a storm.

“We went on a trip to Daegu together once?”

It’s so silent you can hear Jin blink from the spot opposite from where you are sitting, before your laughter ripples through the room. It echoes off the walls of this too-large house, and you can’t really tell whether Yoongi is answering seriously or just smartly avoiding the prying question, and because it’s Yoongi it could mean either and that just makes you laugh until you’re panting for help and clutching your belly.

“What I mean is, how far have you gone…intimately…” Yura huffs, obviously not finding it as funny as you do. Wet blanket.

“That’s another question that you could ask me at the next turn,” Yoongi winks, and you noisily shoot him some finger guns for that snarky comeback. He says nothing, just spins the bottle, which slows down to halt arrowing straight at Hyunsik.

He smirks, jaw set in challenge. “Dare.”

Everyone looks expectantly at Yoongi, who is sitting and looking like he gives zero fucks about this game.

“What? I don’t know, someone else dare him.”

Mina giggles, and she sounds like a spirited forest dryad in comparison to your previous werewolf howling on a full moon kind of a laugh. “Okay, I dare Hyunsik to kiss whoever the bottle points to next. But not on the cheek,” she adds quickly with an impish grin.

Hyunsik just perks a brow, moving to spin the bottle.

Sometimes, you had premonitions about imminent inconveniences. Like the sinking feeling in your gut you get in class when the professor’s eyes land upon you when no one else wants to answer his question. This was one of those times.

For once, you hated being right when the bottle comes to a halt pointing right at you. Your first instinct was to turn towards Yoongi, who just gives a little nod. You don’t know what you wanted him to do, but somehow that was all the assurance you needed. There’s a rush of thrill, nervousness and a little bit of everything shooting up your spine as you slide over to Hyunsik.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” You balk at the question that leaves his mouth so casually, as if he’s asking where you want him to place some books he’d helped you carry.

“Uh…” you toy with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, mind full of nothing but white, static buzz. He chuckles, rich and velvety smooth drizzling like fondue from his lips and – lips. Was he going to kiss you on the lips? There wasn’t time to think, because Hyunsik dips down, eyes fluttering shut as he plants his lips on the curve of your shoulder.

His eyes flick up to yours, deep brown piercing yours and you feel something settle in the pit of your stomach.

Yura is the first to speak up, clipped tone breaking the silence. “Well then.”

“Yoooongi.” Everything was spinning, and your legs felt like jello.

“You’re so noisy when you’re drunk,” Yoongi groans, there to catch you anyway when you sprawl your limbs all over him. While standing up.

“You’re shooo noisy even when your sho-shoober,” you hiccup into his shoulder, head lolling back far enough to look at his unamused expression. A stream of giggles bursts through your lips, the sound muffled into fabric when you smoosh your face into the front of his jacket. Somehow, Yoongi makes it to your shared room with you still hanging on to his side and you roll off him, landing with a loud oompfh on the bed.

Yoongi pauses to catch a breath before he perches on the edge of the bed next to your flimsy mess of limbs, listening to your incoherent mumbles stringed from jumbled thoughts and driven from vodka. He only left to grab some punch. Who knew you could’ve been dared to down four shots in that time, but there you were, giggling and halfway hanging off the end of the couch dangerously when he came back with two mugs in hand.

“Yoongiii. Yoongi Yoongiyooooooongmffgf—” something soft suddenly covers your face, effectively muffling any noise from you but you were quick to swipe the offending item away, right back into the face of the boy you were calling out for.

The pillow slides off his face, but the narrowed eyes beneath pinched eyebrows and his frown remains intact. “I heard you the first time, didn’t have to be so noisy about it.”

“You’re always so grumpy,” you complain, sitting up to and poking both corners of his lips upwards in a smile before the room spins and you crash down into his chest. “Wanna play truth or dare?”

“No, I do not,” his answer is sure and immediate as two strong hands wrap around your forearms, prying you off of him. Most of your hair falls into your face, but you stick your lower lip out far enough for Yoongi to see the pout. “Go play with Hyunsik or something.” Yoongi didn’t mean for it to sound snippy, or like he was annoyed or like anything, but he figures it’s fine because you’re drunk and you won’t pick up on it anyway.

Apparently, he was wrong. Having been roommates for over a year, you were bound to tell apart every tone, pick apart every line or crease in his features and piece them together back again. And right now, he seemed ticked about something. You frown and say the first thing that comes to mind, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. But you were ridiculously drunk at the moment so – “Are you jealous?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, and you smile dizzily.

“I choose truth.”

“I told you I don’t want to play.”

“It’s just a game, Yoongi.” Somehow, it felt like you were talking about what happened. He watches as you try sitting up on your own and end up flopping backwards with a groan. Your head’s pounding and fuck – you have no filter on your mouth whatsover so you blurt it out: “I wish it was you.”

He pauses mid shrugging the jacket off his shoulder.

“What?”

“Your turn now.”

“__________.”

“Hm?”

“What did you say?”

You roll over to regard him through bleary eyes. “I don’t remember.”

A sigh draws from his throat, long and tired.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Liar,” you say. The alcohol is starting to fade, but it still humming in your veins like white noise, faint but still present. “You’re always mad at me. Why?”

This time Yoongi really does frown. “What are you talking about?”

Your mouth really doesn’t have its filter on now, and you’re still drunk, but you speak with unwavering certainty as you stare hard into the creamy whitewash of the ceiling. “I know you care about me… sometimes…but… I don’t know…” You trail off, and for a second Yoongi thinks you’ve fallen asleep, with your eyes open.

And then you blink. “I don’t know why I like you so much.”

Yoongi suddenly felt all the air leave his lungs all at once. “I thought you liked Hyunsik?”

“I liked him a year ago, you dim ass lightbulb.” Yoongi bristles at that, but you speak again before he can complain. “And then Yura dug her claws in and whatever and then we lived together and I had to see your sleepy soft eyes and hair every morning even though you’re so grumpy and always forget your coffee but I still like you so much and-“

“You look like you liked it when he kissed you,” Yoongi mutters, but it’s drowned out by your howling and rambling.

“Iiiiiii just want to take care of you.. and kiss you and bang and all that..but not necessarily in that order…”

“Bang?” Yoongi quirks a brow, not quite knowing what to make of that expression or in this situation, what expression to make.

“You’re so pretty when you smile.”

Yoongi bites down on the inside of his cheek, tamping down the smile and the blush spreading up his neck and fanning out to his cheeks. “You’re so drunk.”

“Maybe,” you laugh drily, the empty sound ringing hollow.

“Will you remember in the morning?”

“Remember what?” Your head lolls to the side to face him, another sob-groan coming from you when your balance goes off kilter and your head drops heavily onto the sheets, blunt sharpness shooting through your head. “God my head hurts…”

“Truth.”

“Truth?” you echo. What was going on again?

Yoongi’s voice sounded so faded, the image of him blurring into splotches of colours under your lids as you try keeping your eyes open. You see Yoongi’s mouth move and form words that you don’t hear as everything dulls out.

Morning rolls around too fast and bright, and you wake up the opposite of how you fell asleep with sunlight bursting across your lids and the hangover screaming in your head.

Yoongi was the first name your voice found, eyes looking for him. You find his arm draped around your waist, face pressed into the back of your shoulder. Yoongi looked ethereal sleeping, moondust still swept on his lashes and mouth parted slightly where his breaths buzzed out softly.

Attempting to sit up right away was probably not a good idea, but you were known for making questionable decisions, so. You tipped over, landing on Yoongi’s stomach and effectively punching the air out of his gut.

“Fuck,” he wheezes, coughing out the word as you mumble out a flurry of apologies, still crossed over his body like a limp noodle.

Yoongi groans, struggling under the combined weight of hefting the pair of you up.

“You’re heavy,” he complains. His voice is gravelly and rough with unuse, but you have no time to think about it as something twists in your stomach, acid rising in your throat before you make a run for it to the washroom.

You feel your stomach contract and flip and slingshot all of its content out into the toilet, tears pricking at your eyes at the bad taste and mostly disgusting sight that you quickly flush down.

Everything was shitty, and the only source of comfort you wished for was Yoongi, but you also wished he took the liberty to leave the room and save you and himself of the embarrassment you are. Tears and throat burning, you feel the warmth of a hand on the small of your back, then another gathering back your hair by the base of your neck to keep it away from your face.

“Yoongi? I feel gross. Don’t-” you lurch into the into the toilet again. Yoongi’s reply comes in the shape of a toilet roll that you can wipe your mouth with.

“I’m- don’t feel good.”

Again, he says nothing, just rubs the hand on your back up and down as you try not to throw up solely from the foul taste in your mouth. “I want to go home.”

“Okay.”

The next time you opened your eyes, you find yourself wrapped in familiar floral sheets in your dimly lit room, while your head is wrapped in a band of metal feeling like it is constantly drummed with a percussion mallet.

“Yoongi?” You call, not actually expecting a response in the form of a groan coming from the floor. “Yoongi? Why are you down there?”

“Because you kicked me off the bed,” he mutters, eyeing you from under a messily swept fringe. You barely take in the familiarity of the grey rug and the parquet floor, to your own workdesk and Yoong’s pair of headphones sitting there that you borrowed (Yoongi considers it stolen) before you realise you were back home.

“When did we get back?” ask, squinting through the sleep to get a good look at the small clock sitting on your dresser, and then scraping the idea because it’s been months since you remembered to change the battery.

Yoongi doesn’t even try before he’s already lazily replying with an I don’t remember.

“…Thanks.”

“For what?”

You slump back into the warmth of your bedsheets, slowly exhaling. He’s good at pretending to not know what you’re on about and like he literally does not give two shits, but you know better.

“I decided what I want.” Just like that, the topic is dropped and forgotten and you’re blinking at Yoongi.

“Huh?”

“You owe me a favour.”

That effectively makes you roll over and away from the boy, a groan deflating out of you.

“I need you to be my date. Uh.. for my sister’s wedding.”

Yoongi feels his stomach churn when your reply is a heartbeat later than he expects. For an alarming nanosecond, he thinks you’ve figured it, figured him all out. A peripheral glance showed that you were squinting at your phone between the curtain of hair frazzling in your eyes, scrolling down and seemingly distracted and he averts his gaze just in time before you switch your attention to the raven-haired boy sitting on the floor.

“Sorry? Sure, I’ll go with you,” you nod, and he hears the papery click of you locking your phone. The following groan was muffled from your burying your face into the sheets and when Min Yoongi sees a chance, he takes it.

Yoongi flees the room. The excuse of going to shower isn’t even utilised because you are too busy curled up in your blankets and wallowing in misery, rambling to yourself about being a fool for drinking when you know you have low tolerance.

::::::::

“Yoongi?! You don’t have a sister??!?!”

#yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #bts scenario #bts fluff #writing #yoongi fake dating #bts fake dating #bts au #erm. how do u tag properly idk but have this.#oh wait he looks so sweet in the gif...#its so embarrassing to post gifs like that bc op wld get notified #bc it happened to me and was like oh we get notified DAMN??#man I miss giffing #I miss being on Tumblr but I'm too busy !!! AHHH #but I think I'm gonna slowly put up all my old but completed works!#u rly need to be inspired or to practice bc its been yrs since I touched my document and I rly kinda lost the fluff touch..

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