ಌ summary: a decade wasn’t enough to rid you of the pesky, silly and not so little crush you harbored for jeon jungkook during your miserable teenage years. even now, when he’s a totally different person from the geek you used to know.
ಌ listen to the playlist.
ಌ series navigation.
ಌ pairing: jjk x reader (f).
ಌ genre: childhood friends to lovers | high school reunion au | angst + fluff.
ಌ rating: nc-17.
ಌ word count: 785 (teaser only).
ಌ content warning(s): swearing/heavy language, angst, mentions of unrequited love, alcohol consumption (ish).
ಌ author’s note: hmmm, have i made a mistake, mayhaps? absolutely. do i regret it? absolutely not. i’ve been ruminating over this for the entire weekend and i couldn’t escape from the feelings of high school best friends to strangers.. to lovers. this is going to be a big, big rollercoaster of flashbacks and feels, but the tissues are on me this time. i promise you i’ll make it worth it (or attempt to).
ಌ taglist (reply to this post or send me an ask to be tagged): @fangirl125reader @helenazbmrskai @babyrosieareroses @blue-jade @vantezza @jkiddingjeon @akshstudios @queenmasterxx @ggukkieland @daggersandicedcoffee @kookxin @illegurlbangtan @supernoonanyc @pinkbubblegumuniverse @bloopkook
His disheveled, black hair is perhaps the only thing that hasn‘t changed. The round glasses are long gone, replaced by the remarkable gleam of an eyebrow piercing right above his lid. His clothes are far from the baggy hoodies he wore all throughout freshman to senior year and there are one too many tattoos for you to count, scattered all across his hand and arms and likely making their way to his chest - quite a muscular one, you must add.
And in a way, you still recognize him under that geeky, bunny smile. The way his nose wrinkles adorably when he’s genuinely amused or how shy he gets around women whom he considers to be way out of his league.
Which never happened to be you - and you’ve had ten years to make peace with that.
But if he had managed to capture your heart with the simplicity of his video game addictions and his competitive, mean streak whenever you beat him at UNO, then now he manages to encapsulate your entire soul in just a single glance.
And god, you’ll be damned for the entire afternoon if you dare steal another glance his way.
So if the horrible dinner punch hasn’t been spiked, you’d spike your own drink yourself if it meant excusing your way out of this high school reunion. The big balloons spewing out “class of 2010” right above you seem to do you no good either, as each and every corner of the wall has been decorated with polaroids and pictures of your last high school year. One you’d rather forget.
Part of you wonders why you’ve ever agreed to meeting any of your old classmates again, but curiosity got the best of you. That, and the sheer spite to shove your Harvard diploma down everyone else’s throats. The little devil on your shoulder had a thirst for vengeance, because the one thing you’d never forgive nor forget were the cracks in your heart when the school’s Queen Bee herself purposefully snatched Jeon Jungkook away from you in the same moment you were hoping to confess your undying crush for your best friend.
She danced with him all night, while he remained starstruck by her beauty and her charm. From that night on, you had to hear all about your best friend’s first kiss for the next years to come, when he’d relentlessly pursue her - oblivious to the fact she was toying with two hearts: his, and yours.
You wish you didn’t care for it anymore, but the heartbreak seemed everlasting. Even when the years had managed to water it down, the truth is scattered all across your features when the likes of Jungkook stride your way.
He smiles a billion dollar smile with his hair slightly slicked back, which puts you at an unfair position as soon as his arms open wide for a hug. Not just any hug, but his hugs, the ones you missed for an entire year when you left town to live in a college campus on the other side of the country.
You barely manage to hug what’s now his buff, hulky figure, almost causing you to lose your balance. His embrace is both heavy and warm, still the friendly it has always been. His loud greetings are barely registered by you when he’s pulling away, leaving you to nod in agreement in a subtle state of shock.
“It’s so great to see you again. It’s been so fucking long, dude,” he laughs, and the way his last word echoes in your mind reminds you of the wounds of an unrequited love that would simply remain unspoken. “I missed you, dumbass,” he punches your shoulder lightly.
Your laugh is nervous, interrupted by a quick sip of your drink to calm your nerves. There’s no alcohol in it nonetheless, but you’re counting on a placebo effect to take over your shyness. You want so desperately to pass out or feign an emergency, but you look at Jungkook with ogling eyes almost, and you hope he doesn’t notice it. From the way he oozes so much confidence and yet is still oblivious to the effect he has on you, to his newfound tattoos and the flannel shirt paired with a leather jacket that makes him look like some kind of 90’s rockstar.
Any words fail you. Even when you open your mouth in an attempt to make small talk, he quickly interrupts you with a renewed gleam in his eyes, with words that spill right out of his mouth to make for what seems to be the last straw of your night.
“Fuck, Y/N. I have so much to tell you. You need to meet my fiancé tonight. You’re gonna love her.”
Summary: After a tiring week of work, the last thing Jungkook wants to hear is you lecturing him about taking care of himself. But what if he could never hear your voice ever again?
Jungkook x f!reader
Genre: fluff + angst
tag list: @awinkies @wedarkacademia @yiyi4657
Walking through the building of HBYE, your hurried footsteps are all that could be heard echoing throughout the empty hallways. As you speed walk towards your destination, you recall the conversation you just had with the other members as you passed by them on their way out.
“Hey y/n!” they all greet you brightly despite the late hour. You approach them with a smile, but your smile slowly turns into a frown when you notice one person missing. “Where’s Jungkook?” you ask, although you already know the answer. Namjoon points over his shoulder with a heavy sigh, “He’s still practicing. We tried to get him to rest but he doesn’t listen.” Shaking your head in disapproval, you bid them goodnight before heading to their practice room to fetch said boy.
You had called him several times when he was late for the dinner you two planned, and when he didn’t answer any of your calls, you drove all the way to HYBE to give him a piece of your mind. You loved everything about Jungkook, including his hardworking and dedicated nature, but sometimes he didn’t know where to draw the line between working hard and overexertion. That’s when you and the other members would have to step in, stopping him before he could burn himself out.
You burst into BTS’ practice room, slightly panting from all the flights of stairs you had to climb because you were too impatient to wait for the elevator. “What are you doing here?” he asks as he stares blankly at you. “Nice to see you too,” you say sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest as you give him an unimpressed look. “It’s already 1 am, shouldn’t you be at home?” he ignores your snarky comment as he states the obvious.
“I could be saying the same about you,” you shoot back. He rolls his eyes at you, moving towards the monitor to start the music again. “Jungkook,” you call out. “That’s enough,” you say sternly. When he doesn’t seem to hear you, or at least he doesn’t acknowledge that he heard you, you start to get ticked off.
“Did you hear me?” you ask, raising your voice as you try to be heard over the music. But he continues to dance as if you weren’t there at all. Stomping over to the monitor, you turn the music off, waiting for him to acknowledge that you’re there. “What is wrong with you Jungkook?” you ask frustratedly. Even though he could be stubborn, he was never this immature, going as far as ignoring your entire presence.
But just like you, he seemed to be reaching his patience’s end and your comment caused something in him to snap. “You’re what’s wrong with me!” he blurts out without thinking. “You’re always bothering me and telling me to rest and take care of myself. Don’t you understand how important work is? I can’t just take a break whenever I want to y/n!” he says glares at you coldly.
Ignoring the sharp pain in your chest caused by his harsh words and the tears forming in your eyes, you continue to fight back, “Everyone’s already left except for you!” You knew just how important his work to him was and he had your full support. But you also knew that he wasn’t required to stay hours later than everyone else and work himself to the point of exhaustion.
“You’re so annoying,” he mumbles under his breath. “Why? Because I’m right?” you spit out. “Because you never shut up!” he shouts at you, his breathing ragged as he stares at you. Any retorts you had get stuck in your throat as it constricts and it suddenly feels hard to breathe. You blink rapidly to keep your tears from falling, refusing to show how much his words affected you.
Jungkook doesn’t miss the hurt that flashes across your face, and it causes a tight feeling in his chest as his heart constricts. It almost makes him want to reach out to you and apologize. Almost. “You should leave, y/n,” he says staring down at the floor, regretful but too stubborn to say sorry. You open your mouth to protest against him, refusing to go home without him, but only a broken noise escapes you.
You could usually stand up to Jungkook because you knew at the end of the day, you two loved each other very much. But now, you’re heart was filled with so much insecurity. You’re always bothering me. You’re so annoying. You never shut up. You had no idea he felt this way about you, so how could you be so sure he even loved you anymore? With a silent nod, you keep your eyes cast to the floor as you cross the room, swallowing the lump in your throat when you reach the door. Jungkook hasn’t moved since he told you to leave, and you cast him a sad look over your shoulder as you reach for the doorknob.
“I love you,” you choke out. But he stays silent as his eyes remain on the floor. Your vision starts to blur as you stare at his back, desperately hoping for him to say it back. But he doesn’t. And when the first tear falls from your eyes, you’re rushing out the door feeling rejected and humiliated, something you’ve never felt around Jungkook before.
Still standing in the middle of the practice room, Jungkook is absolutely torn. This is what he wanted, isn’t it? For everyone to leave him alone so he could practice? He should be happy, but he can’t ignore the ache in his chest and the guilt weighing on his shoulders knowing he hurt you. Not wanting to think about it anymore, he jumps straight back into practice to distract himself.
When Jungkook finally decides he’s practiced enough for the day, he goes home to BTS’ shared apartment. “Jungkook?” Hoseok calls out in confusion, causing all the member’s heads to turn to Jungkook as he walks in through the front door. They remember passing by you earlier in the halls when you were on your way to bring Jungkook home, so what was he doing back here? They figured that you must’ve failed in getting him to stop practicing, but that still didn’t explain why he didn’t return home to you.
“What happened?” Jin questions him, immediately knowing something was up, but Jungkook denies it. “Nothing happened,” he grumbles as he tries to walk past them, but Namjoon grabs his arm to stop him. Dropping his bag on the floor, Jungkook falls back onto the couch with a sigh knowing that nothing gets past them.
“We got in a fight,” he mumbles, remembering the hurt expression on your face or the tears that fell from your eyes when he said hurtful things to you. Before he knows it, Jungkook is breaking down in front of all his Hyungs, telling them everything that was said between you two. He knew he would get scolded, but he couldn’t bear the guilty weighing on his chest any longer.
“Jungkook,” Jimin sighs disapprovingly as shakes his head in disappointment, but he knows a scolding is not what the maknae needs right now. They could all see the guilt swimming around in his eyes and they knew he was sorry. “You know what to do,” Namjoon tells him as he stands from the couch. “Just don’t wait too long or you might regret it,” he says, patting Jungkook on the shoulder before they all walk away, giving him some time and space to think. If only Jungkook had listened.
It’s been four days since you and Jungkook fought and he still hasn’t returned home, let alone call you or text you. The house felt so cold and empty without him, and to make matters worse, you were starting to fall sick with a terrible cough. You didn’t want to be alone but you were hesitant to call Jungkook because you knew he was probably busy, and you weren’t sure if he would pick up your calls anyway.
But even though you two were upset at each other, you were still worried about his health and if he was taking proper care of himself. Despite his busy schedule as an idol, you’ve never been apart for more than a couple of days, seeing him for at least a few minutes before bed or before he leaves for work. Wanting to check up on him and make sure he’s okay, you decide to drop off some food for all the boys since they’ve been working so hard.
As you drive to the company building with the food you picked up in the back of your car, your mind wanders to Jungkook as you think about facing him again. Is he still mad at you? Would he ignore you or would he apologize? You hoped it would be the latter, but your hopes were crushed as soon as you walked into the practice room. While all the boys welcomed you warmly as per usual, Jungkook acted as if you weren’t there at all.
Because you never shut up! His words echo in your mind as you recall what happened the last time you were standing in this practice room. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to talk as little as possible, not wanting to annoy him or anger him anymore. You hated feeling like you were walking on thin ice with him but you didn’t know what else to do, hoping that he would eventually cool down and come to you.
You only stay for a few more minutes before you’re waving goodbye to them and stepping out of the practice room. “Wait y/n!” Jimin calls, causing you to stop and turn back around, “You’re not eating with us?” You simply shake your head and smile before you’re out the door. You would’ve loved to stay and eat with them but Jungkook clearly didn’t want you there and you didn’t want to invade on his lunch. You were content with just dropping off the food and leaving as long as you knew he would be eating well.
All the boys frown at your sudden exit. It was obvious Jungkook hasn’t talked to you yet and the fight must have been much more serious than they thought as they’ve never seen you two act so distant before. “You still haven’t talked to her?” Yoongi asks with a raised eyebrow. “I just haven’t had the time,” Jungkook lies as he shakes his head. He had many opportunities to go home and talk to you but he busied himself with work in order to avoid you.
He felt terrible for how he treated you, but it was easy to forget about it if he didn’t see you, as you were only a reminder of all the terrible things he said. But after seeing you stay silent for the whole duration of your visit, afraid to speak up because of something he said, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He knew he had to apologize as soon as possible.
But even after his realization, it’s not until a few days later does he get a chance to go back to your shared apartment because of their packed work schedule. The apartment is dark and empty when Jungkook gets home, and he’s met with nothing but silence as he steps inside. “Y/n?” he calls out, waiting for some kind of response. He deflates slightly when you don’t answer him, but he knows he deserves it for avoiding you for almost a week.
While kicking off his shoes, he suddenly hears harsh coughing coming from the bedroom, causing his feet to move before his brain can even comprehend what’s happening. “Y/n?!” he asks, slightly panicked as he bursts into the bedroom and finds you sitting on the bed, your whole body being wracked forward with every cough that forces its way out of your throat. He rushes to your side, rubbing your back to help you through your coughing fit. As soon as you start to calm down, he hurriedly stands from the bed.
“I’ll be right back okay?” he says as he rushes out the bedroom and into the kitchen. He comes back seconds later, handing you a cup of water and telling you to drink it. He patiently watches as you sip on the water, hands clasped in his lap as he waits for you to say something, anything. But even after you bring the cup down from your lips, you remain silent, staring at the glass of water in your hands with a faraway look in your eyes.
When it was clear you weren’t going to speak up anytime soon, Jungkook breaks the silence. “Y/n?” he says quietly, causing you to look up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” he asks with a frown. He understood why you say anything to him about being sick, but even if you two were fighting, he didn’t want you to suffer alone and he would’ve dropped everything to come home and take care of you.
Every second that passes by, the heavier his heart becomes knowing that he was the reason for your silence. “Please say something,” he stares at you pleadingly. The guilt was becoming unbearable and he just needed to hear you say something, he just needed to know that you were okay. But when you open your mouth to say something, nothing comes out. Your eyes widen in panic as you bring a hand up to your throat. “What’s wrong?” he asks, alarmed by your reaction, “You can’t speak?” You shake your head as you ball the sheets tightly in your fists, trying your best to hold back your tears.
Internally, Jungkook was beginning to panic at your inability to speak, but he knew he had to remain calm for you. Gently urging you out of bed, he grabs a sweatshirt of his and hands it to you. “Let’s go to the hospital, okay? You’ll be okay,” he tries to reassure you, but it’s more for himself. Nodding at him, you pull the sweatshirt over your head before following him out the door.
Arriving at the hospital, you take a seat as Jungkook talks to one of the nurses at the front desk, and it’s not long before you two are brought into a room. After being asked a series of questions to which you could only nod or shake your head and having a few tests taken, the doctor steps out to retrieve your results. Jungkook can’t help but regard you guiltily as you sit in the hospital bed anxiously waiting for your results.
You had been suffering at home, alone all this time. What if he didn’t come home today? Would you have just gotten worse without anyone knowing? Shaking those thoughts from his head, he didn’t want to think of what could’ve happened had he not come home. He should have returned sooner, but now that he was here, he wasn’t going to abandon you again.
When the doctor reappears, both of your heads snap to the door as he looks at you with a solemn expression on his face. “It appears Ms. l/n’s case is worse than we imagined,” the doctor announces with a sigh. “We thought it was just a bad cough but your conditioned has worsened because you didn’t get it checked out right away which could mean,” the doctor pauses as he braces himself to tell you the bad news, “You may lose your voice permanently.”
Your whole world seems to come to a stop as those words leave the doctor’s mouth, and everything becomes hazy as he explains your treatment. No matter how hard you try to focus on his voice, his words don’t seem to reach your ears as you helplessly try to read his lips. Even then, the image of his face slowly starts to blur as the tears build up in your eyes.
“We’ll give you medication to take, and you’re not to use your voice at all for three days. After those three days, your voice should return if the medicine works properly. But if it does not,” he pauses with a dark look on his face, “Then I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do.” You nod in understanding, trying to muster a small smile of appreciation as he walks out to give you two some privacy.
Before the door can even close behind the doctor, tears are already falling from Jungkook’s eyes as he stares at you with the most heartbroken expression on his face. He should have been there for you. That’s all he can think as you offer him a small smile telling him that it’s okay and you don’t blame him at all. But it only makes him cry harder, feeling responsible for all of this and wishing he did something sooner.
“I’m sorry, I take it back. I didn’t mean anything I said,” he cries as he takes your hands in his. “I love you,” he chokes out through his sobs as he desperately stares at you through his tears. “Please,” he begs as you try your best to hold back your tears for him. “Please say it back,” he cries as his head falls into your lap, clutching you tightly as he cries into your stomach.
A single tear escapes and drips down your cheek as he buries his face in your torso but you’re quick to wipe it away before he can see. You know he feels responsible for all this but you don’t blame him at all, and you don’t want him to blame himself either. All you can do is smile and pat his head, gently running your fingers through his hair to comfort him to the best of your ability.
Your last “I love you” echoes through Jungkook’s head as he remembers the last thing you ever said to him that night in the practice room. It absolutely crushes him to know that he didn’t say it back when he was able to because now, you can’t say it at all. Karma really was a bitch.
Jungkook is practically glued to your side during the days you spend recovering, fussing over you at every given moment. He’s taken some time off work not only to take care of you but to become better for you. The reason you got into an argument in the first place was because he was spending too much time at work and although changing now wouldn’t bring your voice back, he was determined to make it up to you in whatever ways he could.
“Are you hungry?” he asks to which you shake your head. “Thirsty then? Are you bored? Do you want to watch a movie?” he continues to fret about you. But even as you start to form a headache from shaking your head so much, you can’t help but smile fondly at him. You missed spending time at home together just enjoying each other’s company. As selfish as it sounds, it felt nice to feel like the focus of his attention for once. There wasn’t work or dance or music on his mind, just you. You knew what you were getting into when you started dating an idol, but for once, it felt like he loved you just as much as you loved him. Maybe even more.
As the days pass by, Jungkook seems to grow even more restless. Running around the house, looking for random things to do to keep him busy. But when the third day finally arrives, Jungkook does a complete one-eighty. Too afraid to find out if you truly lost your voice or not, he convinces you to wait an extra day, claiming that it’s better to give your voice an extra day to heal. You watch in amusement as Jungkook seems to be at war with himself. While he’s convinced you and himself to wait, he’s constantly asking how your throat feels and if you think it’s healed.
When you finally get him to settle in for the night, you turn off the lamp as he slides into bed next to you. “Goodnight y/n,” he whispers as he places a kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Ever since that day in the practice room, Jungkook has regretted not saying it back to you. So he’s made an effort to tell you he loves you as often as possible, making sure you knew how he really felt about you.
You agreed to wait to appease Jungkook and because a part of you was also afraid of the possibility of you truly losing your voice. But another part of you couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. You didn’t want to see the look on Jungkook’s face if you haven’t healed but there was no point in trying to avoid the inevitable. Closing your eyes to mentally prepare yourself, you take a deep breath before you open your mouth.
“I love you too,” you say softly. Your voice was still a little scratchy, but it was better than before. The fact that you could talk at all proved that your voice was not lost and slowly but surely, it would recover. The moment those words leave your mouth, Jungkook’s whole body freezes, his muscles going stiff as your voice registers in his mind.
Whipping his head around, he stares at you with wide eyes. “D-did-,” he stutters. “Did you just?” he can’t even form a proper sentence as he feels overwhelmed with emotions when you nod. In a flash, he throws his arms around your shoulders, causing you to fall back on the pillows as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
Your wrap your arms around his waist as he hugs you tightly, pulling you close until there’s no space between you two as he sheds tears of relief. “I-” he hiccups, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” You feel his tears soak into your shirt as you gently rub his back. “I’m so sorry,” he cries harder.
“It’s okay,” you whisper into his hair and press a kiss on the top of his head. There was so much more you wanted to say to him, but even though your voice wasn’t lost, you still had to take it easy. Cradling his head to your shoulder, you gently run your fingers through his hair to soothe him.
Pulling away from him slightly, Jungkook looks up at you with watery eyes. The tip of his nose is red and he sniffles cutely as you gently use your thumbs to wipe away the tears on his cheeks. He pulls the blankets over the both of you before wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking your head under his chin as you place your hands against his chest. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders as he fell asleep with you in his arms knowing that when you two woke up, everything would be okay.
The morning that Jungkook returns to work for the first time since your visit to the hospital, you have to practically kick him out of the house. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Jungkook asks for the tenth time that morning as you walk him to the door. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be perfectly fine!” you insist as you give him a push towards the door, “Now hurry up or else you’ll be late.” But he easily resists your shove, pulling you in for a quick hug and a peck on the lips.
Ever since you had gotten sick, Jungkook was paranoid about leaving you alone, afraid he wouldn’t be there for you if you needed him. It was especially hard for him because he had taken a lot of time off to be with you during your recovery, so it was hard for him to go back. Peeling him off of you, you laugh at his clinginess before pushing him out the door and sending him to work.
Throughout the day, you receive many text messages and calls from him, checking up on you and asking how you are. He gives you updates on all the boys, even turning on his camera and allowing them to say hi. About an hour before the time Jungkook finishes work, you start to cook dinner so it’ll be hot when he comes home.
Blasting BTS’ songs throughout the house, you sing along while you stir the pot. Not hearing the front door unlocking or the approaching footsteps, you jump when a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. You let out a gasp before you hear Jungkook chuckle behind you, nuzzling his nose into the side of your neck. “Jungkook,” you breathe out in relief. “You scared me!” you lightly scold him as you smack him on the shoulder. But it only causes his laughter to grow as he backs off to go change.
Grabbing your phone, you pause the music now that he’s home, continuing to prepare the food. Walking back into the kitchen in a pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt, Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. “Where’d the music go?” he asks. “I just paused it,” you answer him simply as you gesture to your phone sitting on the counter. It wasn’t that Jungkook didn’t like you playing their songs at home, but you weren’t the best singer on the planet, choosing to be considerate and spare his ears now that he was home.
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he says, reaching for your phone on the counter and pressing play. “Keep singing please?” he asks with his big, puppy dog eyes that he knows you can’t resist. You were no professional singer but he didn’t care, he just wanted to hear your voice. “As you wish,” you give in with a sigh before proceeding to sing along loudly, not always on key and probably bothering your neighbours but you didn’t care.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask sitting across the dining table from Jungkook. You had run out of things to talk about long ago but Jungkook insisted you keep talking, leading to you telling him about your day until you noticed how he was gazing at you. “Like what?” he asks. “Like... that,” you gesture to the way he’s resting his cheek on his palm as he continues to stare at you like you’re his whole world.
He shrugs nonchalantly as his eyes remain on you. “I like listening to you talk,” he admits unabashedly, causing your cheeks to heat up. Smiling at him, you continue to tell him about how you spent the whole day doing chores around the house. And even though Jungkook’s day was probably one hundred times more interesting than yours, he still listened as if you were talking about the most fascinating thing in the world because his favourite to listen to was you.
↣ you don’t know his name, you don’t have an image of him in your mind, all you can recall is the deep, inviting drawl that seems to hypnotize you whenever you’re speaking under the cover of darkness; the frenzy is what drives you to seek out the man behind the enticing voice, even if it goes against the rules.
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: smut, fluff, s2l
word count: 4.8K
warnings/tags: college au, social experiment, strong language, hate to the color fuchsia, sensory deprivation, explicit smut- LOTS of dirty talk, heavy petting, finger sucking, breast kink, praise kink, hickeys, body worship, hair pulling, spanking, ear kissing/licking, handjob, fingering, grinding
a/n: inspired by Yoongi’s voice that has me in a trance every time I hear him speak
Smoothing down your sweaty palms over your jeans, you rush down the hallway and take the vacant seat at the end of the row, only to perk up and jog to the opposite end when you spot Jimin who points to the empty spot next to him.
You’re avoiding his curious eyes, sucking your lips in as you settle down next to him. Smiling at the girl who sits opposite you, the way you do every Saturday, you pat Jimin’s knee and wait for the coordinator to exit the office that’s behind the frosted door to your left.
As expected, Jimin nudges you with his shoulder, black hair brushing your cheek as he whispers.
“Fuchsia? I don’t think I have ever seen you wear fuchsia lipstick before.”
Who would know you better than your best friend?
Probably your mother. But no, she might think that you’re trying something new, a brighter shade of pink on your lips.
Jimin, your best friend, would argue that fuchsia is a color you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing, you would never reach for it or even spot the color on the shelf in the drugstore, let alone buy and wear it.
You just smile and go with your mother’s reasoning, which earns a quizzical look from him.
He mumbles your name exasperatedly, clearly judging your choice of lipstick.
“I know your partner won’t be able to see you in there but that doesn’t mean you should start wearing hideous colors and take advantage of that.”
You shrug, fidgeting with the hem of your beige blouse, “I think it looks cool.”
“Is it glow in the dark? Because you know that might be against the ru-“
You’re unable to fight the laughter that fills the muted hallway, covering your mouth with your palm when you see a few of the other students glaring at you.
“No! It’s not,” you whisper-shout, taking a quiet breath of relief when Jimin leans back in his chair, a sign that he dropped the subject of your lipstick shade choice. But the warning glance he sends your way gives you the idea that it’s going to be included in your conversation after the session.
And like every other Saturday, you can tell he’s just as anxious as you. You want to affirm that everything will go smoothly but you know that it’s against the rules of the experiment to discuss the sessions with ANYONE. No one should know what goes on behind those four walls. Well, you assume that the room has four walls, and that it’s not some circular space with two chairs placed in the center.
But that’s the whole point. You see nothing, feel nothing, except for the chair and warm air as you sit down and wait for your partner from College B to enter after your nerves have thoroughly eaten up at you.
This whole thing was Jimin’s idea. He saw a pamphlet laying on the ground as you were strolling through the quad one busy afternoon and decided that he should drag you into this ‘social experiment’ that the psychology majors were conducting for five Saturdays running from August into September. You thought it might be a refreshing experience after a gruelling exam season, a little fun.
But it’s causing you more pain and exhaustion than anything else.
You’re from College A, college names are not to be shared to prevent students from tracking down their partners, which will tamper with the results. You know your partner is from College B. That’s all you know about him and maybe that he’s really sweet and kind and enjoys listening to music, he has a toy poodle and lives with his roommate who has also signed up for this agonizing experiment.
Agonizing because you’re unable to get your partner’s voice, words, laugh out of your head. You dream of a faceless man who doesn’t go beyond a voice floating around you.
You know so much, yet so little about each other. How does one skip around the important details that may reveal your identity? It’s easier than you thought because you run through the words in your head a million times before they’re spoken. And he does the same.
When you were a little girl, the darkness was something you feared, like most kids. But as you grew older, you knew that it wasn’t the dark that you were afraid of, but rather what lurked in the darkness. Over fifteen years later, and you still sleep with the lamp on. Maybe the unmentioned fear was also one of the reasons why you gave in to Jimin, you want to overcome the unease whenever you’re shrouded by darkness.
But, these past three sessions have caused more agitation to bubble to the surface. Because you think you might be in love with the man whose name you may never know. Next Saturday will be the last session and it scares the hell out of you that this faceless person occupies a large fraction of your mind and is creeping into your heart too. You know he feels the same, at least, from what he tells you.
The darkness makes you feel confident, which is ironic.
Confident in what you say to him.
You wonder what he’s like outside of the darkness, when his voice is out in the open, under your gaze. Would his words remain unchanged?
That’s the spiral you go down every night after the first session. Agonizing.
That’s the reason for your fuchsia lipstick.
For a fleeting moment last week, he held your hand and it felt like you finally found the last piece to your puzzle.
The puzzle you’ve been struggling to complete for years.
You haven’t slept a wink last night conjuring up a plan to figure out who the man, with the alluring voice and heart-stirring personality, may be.
It might be dumb, but you’re hoping to leave a mark on his cheek by kissi—
“Good afternoon, Students.”
The coordinator, Mrs. Kang clasps her palms and stands at the end of the hallway, demanding everyone’s attention.
“I hope you’ve all had a good week,” she begins, eyes disappearing into slits as she smiles, you notice Jimin straighten his posture from the corner of your eye, “we’ve done things a little different this week, which would be next week’s procedure as well. Colleges B and C have their students waiting in the respective rooms, unlike the past Saturdays where you were the ones who had to wait.”
Her laugh does absolutely nothing to calm your nerves that seem to skyrocket after hearing her last statement.
You’re not accustomed to entering the room with him already waiting for you. It’s the opposite way around. How would you act this time? It’s going to be so awkward.
“Let’s go through the rules.”
You’re too overwrought to listen to the sprightly woman as she rushes through the points that you’ve read and heard a thousand times.
Everything will be fine. You’ll just laugh off the edginess like the previous sessions. It won’t be weird. You know that you’re overreacting. Perhaps you’re a bit more nervous than before because you have a plan for today.
“One more thing, you’re allowed to touch one another. A student emailed me last night just to query the rules of physical contact during the session.”
Bless that student. Not like he needed to ask the coordinator before he actually touched you. Warmth fills your cheeks.
“Remember, you leave via the east wing, and they exit through the west.”
Bless her for that piece of information.
“Alright students, I hope you all have fun,” she holds up a bony finger, “all rules taken into consideration.”
She nods to the student at the end of the row, and they shuffle down the opposite end of the hallway. Each of you watch with eager eyes as they disappear around the corner.
One by one, the students walk, some skip and jog, to the end of the hallway, impatient to meet their nameless friends.
You wonder what it must be like for each of them, you wonder if they’ve also developed a similar bond to the one you and your partner share. You’re blushing, bile rising in your throat when you realize that you’re going to be meeting him after a week. You try to keep the frustrating thought that you won’t see his varying facial expressions, his smile, his frown, the crinkle in his eyes as he speaks, out of your mind.
Jimin’s hold on your hand lingers as he shoots you an encouraging smile.
“See you later.”
You wave him off, taking a deep breath. It’s your turn next.
As you’re padding down the brightly lit hallway, you wonder how the results for the sessions are recorded. Is there a speaker in the room? Is there some kind one-way window? Like the ones they have in police stations? But that would require light to work. With technology these days, anything is possible.
What is the aim of the experiment? What are they testing?
Before you know it, you reach room 106, and Yeji, one of the psychology majors, asks you to spin around and enter the room backward. She smiles when she realizes that you didn’t really need to be instructed. She shoots you a thumbs up and holds the door open.
“After an hour, you’ll hear three knocks. Your partner would need to turn his chair around as you exit the room. Be careful of your step.”
You take four steps backward before she closes the door and you’re met with pitch black.
It’s funny how the majority of this social experiment is based on trust. Trust between the test subjects and the conductors of the experiment.
The darkness manages to steal your breath away, each time. You can’t even see your own hand or make out any shape or outline in front of you. It smells floral in the room, like roses and as you spin around, the familiar scent of his cologne drowns out any other smell.
Two steps forward and you grasp onto the back of the chair, hands fighting with the air as you sit down with a huff.
The low chuckle from beside you sends a thrill down your spine.
“Hey,” you reply shyly, eyes shut despite being surrounded by black even if you keep them open, unable to keep the goofy grin off your face.
“How have you been?”
The raspy voice asks. You tuck your hair behind your ear, folding one leg over the other to get comfortable.
“Okay. Been busy with assignments and stuff. What about you?”
He sighs, and you can hear shuffling. It sounds like he’s adjusting his jacket, or it could be cargo pants.
“Tired. I…Work has been tiring.”
You nod like an idiot, knowing he can’t see you.
“Ah. I’m…sorry. Work has been pretty shitty for me too.”
“I think we deserve a break from all the stress, what do you think?”
You giggle, brushing your hair over your shoulder as you lean back in the plastic chair that seems a bit unsteady against the flooring.
“Yeah. We deserve a vacation. A road trip, to a beachy town.”
“You like the beach?”
“Mhm,” you nod again, one nod away from slapping yourself, fingers curling around the armrest, “love it. My friends and I take any chance we can get to visit the beach. Just to sit and watch the waves.”
“Oh,” he laughs, “I thought you might be the competitive type when you visit the beach. You know, the ones who sport bikinis and beat their friends at volleyball.”
“Me in a bikini?”
Your cheeks heat, wanting to tease him about imagining you in a bikini. But this isn’t a normal situation. He doesn’t even know what you look like.
You hear him suck a breath in, then he’s rushing to fill the silence.
“I heard the slowed and reverb version you told me about.”
“I like the original better.”
You scoff, “really? I felt like you could hear the background vocals better.”
“Maybe. But I don’t really enjoy listening to slowed and reverb songs.”
“I respect that.”
“I only listened to it because you suggested.”
The goofy smile is back, ankles crossing and uncrossing, “yeah?”
“Yeah,” he responds with a playful lilt to his gruff voice.
That feeling returns. The one where you just want to jump his bones and stick your tongue down his throat.
“Slowed and reverb songs either get you depressed or horny,” you chuckle, only acknowledging your choice of words after you hear his throaty laugh.
“How do you feel when you listen to that song slowed and reverbed?”
You cock an eyebrow, wondering if you should lie or be honest. You go for the latter.
He’s quiet for a while and you think you may have crossed the line. But the next thing he says makes you feel a tiny bit appreciative of the fact that he can’t see the way you’re clenching your thighs together.
“I’ll think of you the next time I listen to it…I’m always thinking of you. Your voice.”
You gulp, air rushing through your nostrils, “me too.”
“Why is life so fucking hard?!”
You hear a small banging sound, and you think he must’ve stomped his foot on the floor, you chuckle at his small tantrum.
Your mouth clamps shut when you feel a hand reach for yours.
“The last time I felt like time flew and I didn’t have enough time to tell you this. I also didn’t have the balls,” he mumbles the last part, heat from his palm spreading to the back of your hand, heart pounding in your chest.
He continues after taking in a shuddering breath, a smile graces your lips when you realize that he’s just as nervous as you.
“I’ve never met anyone like you. Even if we’ve only met like four times now and I didn’t even…really…fuck…meet you.”
You open your mouth to tell him that you understand but he cuts you off.
“And I have no idea what these fuckers are up to. If this is some kind of dating experiment or if they put something in the air…But I know that I feel for you. And it’s like…we just click. I want you to know that the conversations we’ve had in those three hours replay in my head.”
A frustrated groan leaves your lips because you so badly want to see the sincerity in his eyes just as you’re hearing it in his tone. His voice has you weak in the knees, stomach twisting, heart fluttering in your chest.
You flip his hand over and press your palm to his, slowly letting your fingers lock.
“I feel the same way.”
Deciding to put your plan into action, you lean forward, and you think your nose meets his hair, the scent of coconut drowns out his cologne. You nose through the strands to reach his ear, then move a bit to the side to land a noisy kiss on his cheek, knowing that a bright pink stain will be left in its wake, just as you’ve schemed.
You gasp a bit when you feel a finger poke your forehead, travelling down the slope of your nose, to your cupid’s bow, tugging on your bottom lip to land on your chin.
“I think about you all the time. What you would look like. What you would feel like.”
His fingers trace the line of your jaw, and you’re stock still, relishing in his warm touch, syrupy voice a little louder in your ears now that you feel him move closer to you, heart beating thunderously, blood rushing to your ears.
“Me too,” is all you can say, especially when his fingers return to your lips.
“Your lips are so soft.”
In response, you part your lips a bit and he takes it as an invitation to let them slide into your mouth and he moans. He moans and you think the cogs are going loose in your brain.
You want to hear more of his moans, so you swirl your tongue around the digits, and he draws little circles on the wet muscle, muttering a low ‘fuck’ when he withdraws his fingers and your teeth catch on the tips.
Your hands slide along his shoulders tentatively, feeling the cool material of his jacket, his broad shoulders, as you reach the curves of his neck. One hand mimics his action of gliding from his forehead down the slope of his nose. You attempt to envision the shape, the size and you skim his cupid’s bow, imagining the pretty dip in the center that molds his lips which feel like petals under your touch.
His thumb rubs across your cheek, and you can feel his breath waft over your face, breath hitching when his nose touches yours.
“Can I kiss you?”
You nod, and you might kick yourself, but you think he felt the movement because his lips meet yours in a searing kiss, lips moving over yours languidly. The sensation of his hands cupping your face, low moans rumbling into your mouth, wet mouth pressed to yours, has you feeling like you’re about to combust, but nothing can prepare you for the hot licks of his tongue. Your whines and whimpers are swallowed by his hungry mouth.
When you pull away, lungs straining for air, he grabs your hips and lifts you onto his lap, hands just as ravenous as yours, feeling every inch of your skin.
You salivate at the thought of his toned chest being flush against yours, muscular arms wrapping around you, holding you close. You’re lightheaded, dizzy, feeling like your heart might fly away.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me? You’re driving me crazy.”
“No,” your arms encircle his neck, leaning down to mouth at the skin below his ear, “you drive me crazy.”
His words get caught his throat when your tongue wets the shell of his ear, teeth nipping at his earlobe, lips soothing the burn.
“Shit,” he rasps, one hand rubbing your inner thigh while the other massages your scalp,
“you smell so fucking good. Feel so fucking good.”
You lick your lips and tilt his head to repeat your ministrations on his other ear, warm cheeks pressed together as your tongue dips into his ear, breath kissing the wet flesh, swollen lips and tongue sucking lewdly on the heated skin.
The tug between your legs becomes a nagging ache when he tugs on your hair and tilts your head up, lips gliding down the column of your neck, resting between your collarbones.
“I want to cover your pretty skin in my marks,” his palm rests on your lower back, right above your ass, “can I do that? It’s fine if—”
“Yes. Yes, please,” your neck begins to ache from the angle, and you urge him on by squeezing his nape, “do it.”
He mouths at your neck, and it isn’t long before you feel the sting of his teeth tugging on your skin, lips suckling harshly, moans filling the balmy air.
“You sound so sweet,” his tightens his hold on your hair and speaks against your lips, “I want to hear more of you.”
“Touch me,” you get off his lap to stand between his knees, guiding his hands to your ass cheeks, “you can touch me.”
The low, husky chuckle has your panties soaked in an instant, resting your hand on his shoulder for support as he kneads the meat of your ass.
“Want me to touch you? Hmm?”
One of his hands slide under the material of your cheesecloth blouse, dexterous fingers pulling the cups of your bra to rest under your boobs.
“Fuck,” he whispers, thumb and forefinger twisting your erect nipple, palm cupping the flesh, “so fucking sexy. Better than I imagined.”
You throw your head back when he pulls you closer, chin pressing into your stomach as he smacks your ass and rolls your pebbled nipple between his fingers. You’re trying, desperately, to imagine the smirk you hear in his voice as he stares up at you.
“What else do you want me to do to you?”
“I want…I want you touch me.”
“I am touching you,” he laughs, pulling your abused nipple then moving to the other, applying more pressure on the bud.
“Mhmm,” you bite your lip when his hand travels further down between the globes of your ass, spreading your legs a bit for his access, wanting nothing more than to feel his fingers in the drenched spot at the apex of your thighs.
“I’ll take my time with you. Marking every inch of your body until I’m satisfied, then fuck you until you’re all sweaty for me. Fuck you however I want, wherever I want.”
You fall forward when he cups your pussy through the denim material, both hands resting on his shoulders now, rutting your hips for more of his touch. His words have you searching for friction, wanting him to touch you there.
“Would you like that? Me fucking you on the bed, on my couch, on my kitchen floor, on the table, bent over the counter.”
“Yes,” you whine, panting now that he’s applying more pressure on your core.
“You’re fucking soaked for me. I can feel it, even through this thick material,” he growls, making fast work of unbuttoning your jeans and pulling down the zipper.
A thought crosses your mind and your eyes snap open to be met with the darkness, reality pouring in. Your fingers curl around his wrists to stop him, hearing a small, surprised sound from him that makes you giggle a bit.
“What if they can see us or hear us?”
“Then we’ll give them a nice show, yeah?”
He pulls you down onto his lap, spreading his legs so you’re comfortable, you rest your palm on his chest, nosing along his sharp jawline.
“Unless you don’t want to? It’s understandable.”
“No,” you bend down to kiss his lips but end up kissing the tip of his nose, “I want to.”
“Yeah,” you grin, feeling his arm slither around your waist, fingers tracing the hem of your jeans.
“Let’s continue,” he drawls, fingers dipping into your jeans and panties, kicking your legs open as you hold on to his shoulders, eyes scrunching shut when he parts your sticky folds.
He hums, the sound reverberating off the walls as he circles your clit with his thumb, index and ring finger prodding at your slit, gathering your juices to spread all over your swollen folds.
“So fucking wet. You like this, don’t you? Me making you feel good. A stranger, in the dark, with nothing but my body and words to hold on to.”
“Yes,” your hips buck involuntarily when he starts to flick your clit from side to side, more of your slick pools and he’s quick to collect it on the calloused pads of his fingers.
“You smell so good,” his forehead rests against your cheek, hot breath causing you to shiver, panting as he sinks his index finger into you, “bet you taste even better.”
“Fuck,” you mewl, rolling your hips into his palm as he sinks his middle finger into your heat, both his digits massaging your quivering walls.
“I want to taste you so bad. I know you’d love my tongue on your pussy, working you up until you’re filling my mouth then having you begging for me to stop. I know I won’t get enough of your sweet cunt.”
“Fa-Faster,” whines break from your chest, burying your face in his neck as you grind into his hand, feeling the beginnings of your high twist and knot in your abdomen.
His long fingers hook into your pussy, finding that sweet spot that has you trembling in his hold with ease, dragging along your ridged walls.
Your hand slips from his chest and rests on his crotch, you gasp when you feel his massive erection straining in the soft material of his pants.
Stilling your hips while his fingers continue to stretch you open, you reach into his pants and tug at his heavy cock, smearing the precum along his shaft, twisting your palm with each upstroke, his groans adding to your arousal.
“Fuck, your hand feels so good,” you envisage his parted lips, eyes closed, head thrown back as he fucks into your fist, hand laying limp in your panties.
“You feel so good,” you moan, relishing in the sounds he’s making, guttural and raw, “want to take your cock in my mouth.”
“Fuck,” he grits out, chasing his high, “want your pretty lips around my fat cock.”
“Want to choke on your cock,” you whisper, teeth piercing into the skin of his neck.
With the way his cock twitches in your palm, moans becoming louder, you can tell he’s close. You retract your hand from inside his pants and throw your leg over his lap, straddling him, both his hands gripping your ass, catching up on the idea as you position your throbbing pussy over his cock.
Breaths mingling, foreheads pressed together, you chase your highs, moaning into each other’s mouths as you grind against his cock, meeting each glide, clit pulsating with each press of his thick length, hole clenching uncontrollably.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a passionate kiss, moaning unabashedly, hips knocking against each other as you cum, shuddering in pleasure.
He whimpers against your mouth, trying to catch his breath just as you’re doing the same.
“That did nothing to help,” he pants, head hitting your shoulder.
Your fingers card through the soft strands of his hair, perplexed.
“Now I want you more than ever.”
Before you can answer, three knocks interrupt the tender moment and you squirm off his lap, adjusting your clothes and rushing out the door in panic.
Yeji is surprised when she sees you, eyes wide when she takes in your dishevelled state. You try to rush past her, but she grabs your arm. Your eyes are glued to the floor as she informs you that you were the last ones.
Thanking her, you sprint down the hallway, palm on your chest, heart still racing from earlier as you all but leap down the stairs to make it to the east wing in time.
In time, to hopefully see him.
To spot the pink mark on his cheek.
Things went…a lot differently than you expected and you’re not mad at all. You hide behind the stairwell wall when you see a guy wearing a pink and white tie-dye shirt, leaning against the wall near the exit.
Your throat is dry, cool air filling your lungs, palm on your hip as you try to take in the oxygen your lungs are screaming for.
Your lips sting and your fingers reach up to brush the swollen flesh, a giddy smile splitting your face. But the heart-breaking thought that you still don’t have a face or name to the voice causes the corners of your mouth to sag.
You hope that’ll change. Any minute now.
The guy with the pink shirt yells at someone who’s out of your line of sight, laughing like a mad man.
“What the fuck happened to you?!”
Your eyebrows furrow, waiting for that person to emerge. A guy with a green jacket, who’s back is facing you, waddles to the other guy, shoving him as he laughs hysterically.
“Shut the fuck up, Hobi.”
Your breath hitches. You would recognize that voice anywhere, in a heartbeat.
“I’m probably the only one from our college who’s making progress.”
You narrow your eyes to get a better view from where you’re standing, seeing him rub his face with the heel of his palm.
That voice is the one that rings in your head when you’re falling asleep. The same voice you hear when you wake up. And in between.
But you’re still unsure if it’s him.
Heart beginning to pick up the pace again, you panic when they start to walk toward the exit.
Adrenalin surging through your veins, you bolt in their direction and grab green jacket guy’s arm. The sight that greets you is a very grumpy man, scowl and piercing eyes causing you to drop his hand.
When he turns fully, his friend stopping at the sliding door to watch, you see the pink smudge not only on his cheek, but all over his face and neck, darker patches on his neck.
Pouty lips, cat-like eyes, sandy blond hair, pale skin, much taller than you, long, bony fingers, and a toned build.
That’s what you need to ingrain in your memory.
You’re even more hypnotized by the hazy look in his eyes.
He takes a step forward, scowl morphing into a smile as he scans your face, gaze lingering on your neck, biting on his bottom lip as his eyes rake down your figure. His scent begins to cloud your mind for the second time tonight.
“You’re more beautiful than I imagined.”
a/n: please don’t feel shy to send in feedback, hearing your thoughts serve as motivation :)
Hello, this is the masterlist for my BTS fanfiction. All the works here are a work of fiction and do not necessarily depict my personal thoughts or beliefs. This post will be updated after I publish any work. Enjoy and please share your thoughts. Asks open!
Warning: Minors do not interact. Mature content ahead!
Save a horse ride a cowboy
your sweet boyfriend plans a relaxing night for the both of you but things don`t go as he plans, the turn of events isn`t any less delicious. you thinks. (4k)
He wanted to thank the Gods who damned him for all these years beacause he found you again, in another life. His Beloved. (6.3k)
Marriage is supposed to be based on truth and love but yours was nothing of that sort, just a compromise, just a contract, what happens when you tell your husband you no longer want any part of this? (8.7k)
what happens when you hide in the back of a stranger`s pick up truck? is it your worst mistake or the best mistake of your life? (13.4k)
what happens when you meet your childhood best friend and former fling of six months after years? Although it was nothing serious but now a boyfriend in the mix, perfect recipe for awkward new beginnings. (10.7k)
When your son starts his pre- school, both you and Jungkook don`t know what to do with yourselves, well other than being all over each other, you two definitely need help. (9.4k)
2. New Cravings
You and Jungkook are adjusting to your son being at school now by coming up with your own activities. (9.8k)
The big cats
The big cats, that`s what the whole country calls you two, the biggest Mafia king and Queen in the country, mortal enemies and the last male and female Amur Leopard hybrids alive, what happens when you are summoned by the National Wildlife Preservation Facility to save your kind? (10.5k)
Espresso shots and boob talks
your sweet boyfriend doesn't care about your boob size and he's ready to prove it to you that your lame whining will not stop him from fucking you dumb. (6.9k)
you and your colleague don`t see eye to eye, the room for improvement completely goes out of the window when something happens at work that ruins a major career step of your life (16.4k)
yoongi x reader (oc)
genre: angst; fluff
word count: 3.6K
a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s part 2 to “I’m not walking out on you” in which Yoongi and reader/Kid get into a pretty major fight. This takes place that same night and the next day. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))
Sleep doesn’t come too easy for those with the weight of two aching hearts inside their chest. The throbbing of your own heart, you could handle. But knowing you were the cause of your lover’s pain sat heavy in your mind. The look of regret, hurt, defeat that was etched across Yoongi’s features was impossible to shake, hovering over you like a sleep paralysis demon of your own creation.
Your tears had stopped since you shut yourself away in your bedroom, but the regret was all the more deep and unsettling. At the sound of the washing machine beeping on the other side of the door, you rolled onto your side, facing the wooden barrier that kept you from Yoongi. You were so sick of walls, but it was all that you knew.
Lifting yourself from the mattress, you began tiptoeing across the room to move the bedding to the dryer. You couldn’t sleep anyway. However, when you carefully pulled the door open, not wanting to alert your boyfriend of your activity, you were stopped in your tracks, the air leaving your lungs as you remained completely still. Peeking through the slightly ajar door, you watched as Yoongi transferred the sheets from the washing machine to the dryer.
He didn’t hear the door open, appearing oblivious to your presence. And perhaps that was why he wasn’t more careful in concealing the sniffle that sounded in the hallway, the small fragile sound stabbing your heart. When he raised his arm to his face, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe across his cheek, there was no mistaking the emotional state of the man. Yoongi was crying, and it was your fault.
Feeling as though you were going to be sick, you quickly but quietly shut the door, hiding away behind the barrier once again. You should have stepped into the hallway and faced the man you loved, but your cowardice always seemed to win. Instead, you stood frozen, your back pressed against the wood, your jaw clenched, and your eyes filling with tears once again.
If only you had known that the click of the latch registered in Yoongi’s ears, the man turning to see the door closed. However, he knew you were just on the other side, he could feel your presence. Yoongi had stepped toward the door, raising his arm and nearly knocking before deciding against it. Maybe you wanted space, maybe you didn’t want to see him. Sighing, he started the dryer before returning to the couch, all while you leaned against the door wishing you had the courage to step outside.
As you remained restless in bed, you couldn’t help but think about how you had ambushed Yoongi. You could tell that as far as he knew, you and him didn’t have any issues. Replaying the fight in your head, the interaction with him earlier in his studio, the past couple weeks, you realized he was completely oblivious to how you had been feeling. How could the fight ever be fair if he had no indication of any problems? And to bring up his mistake from nearly a year ago that you knew he regretted, whether it still hurt you or not, was cruel.
You left him defenseless; the man who always lowered his defenses when it came to you.
Curiosity and your undeniable pull to Yoongi getting the best of you, you found yourself in the hallway, headed toward the living room where he was sleeping for the night. With how still everything in the apartment was, you worried for just a moment that maybe he had actually left, despite his promise not to walk out on you. You wouldn’t even blame him if he did. However, you caught a glimpse of the messy hair that sat atop his head where he rested against the arm of the sofa, once again reminding you of how foolish your misguided accusations were. Of course he didn’t leave.
Stepping closer to him, you carefully peeked over the top of the sofa to see him lying on his back, his mouth slightly ajar as he slept, his arms folded across his body as though he was trying to secure as much warmth as he could. More than ever you were regretting the fight, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and let him use up all the body warmth you had to offer.
You were surprised to find him sleeping so soundly, as he usually couldn’t find slumber when his mind was busy processing stress or conflict. His exhausted state made you feel even more guilty as you realized how little you took his current workload into consideration when targeting your attacks at him. And that’s when you realized that even more than you expected him to be late for your date that night, you wanted him to be. Because then it would validate your anger without you having to discuss how you had been feeling. It was a fix all, a get out of jail free card; finally release the anger that had been building up over the past two weeks and then move on. What you didn’t consider was the casualty you turned your boyfriend into. Nor did you expect the insecurity you still felt from the start of your relationship to surface. There was a time, one single time, when you didn’t find Yoongi asleep on your couch after a fight.
But he was there now. And you needed to find a way to let go of the past, forgive, and move forward together.
Lost in your thoughts and revelations, you were suddenly pulled back into the present moment when the dryer beeped to signal it had completed its cycle. Jumping in start, your eyes widened as you stared at Yoongi, hoping he wouldn’t wake up and catch you watching him. Frozen for just a few seconds, you waited for any sign of consciousness before quickly backing away and heading for the dryer.
Reaching into the machine, your arms were shrouded with the warmth of freshly dried blankets. Glancing over your shoulder at the sofa, you pouted, remembering how cold Yoongi looked. Without a second thought, you found yourself approaching Yoongi once more, comforter in hand. Stopping in front of the couch, you peered down at him and prepared to drape the warm blanket over him.
However, you spotted one of his yellow notepads stuck between his arm and abdomen, full of words that he must have scribbled down before falling asleep. It was lyrics, no doubt, and normally you would have read over the words with great curiosity and appreciation for Yoongi’s lyrical talent. But with the previous events of your evening with Yoongi, you felt as though that would be an invasion of privacy. Or maybe you were worried you would find harsh words about yourself, though realistically you doubted it. Whatever the reason, you gently tugged on the notepad, freeing it of his grasp before setting it aside on the coffee table, along with the pen that rolled onto his stomach.
As carefully as you could, you set the blanket over his frame, tucking it in just slightly around him, not wanting to wake the man. Satisfied with your work, you stepped back and glanced at his features, ensuring his eyes were still shut, his mouth still open signaling a deep sleep.
His cheeks were so soft and plush, his facial structure so delicate. You could stare at him for ages but you worried the unspoken love and regret that was screaming within your heart and mind would wake him. But for just a moment longer, you inspected his features, appreciating the soft gentleness that was always so present within them. If only you could be more like him. You were certain the world would be so much kinder, considerate, and serene if more people could embody the stunning nature that was your boyfriend. Yoongi had never once lashed out against you in the way that came so naturally to you. You wondered if he knew how much you appreciated that about him. Even when angry, he was always so gentle.
Sighing, you forced yourself to leave him to sleep, returning to your room where you would continue to ruminate on the mistakes that you wish you could take back.
You didn’t know at what point you had finally succumbed to sleep but you did know that Yoongi was the only thing on your mind when you slipped into a state of slumber. Consciousness came slow at first, your mind hazy as you took your time piecing together the elements of the new morning. And then it came fast, anxiety crashing through you as you recalled the events of the previous night and realized you’d have to face Yoongi.
The sound of rummaging from outside the room alerted you that your boyfriend was awake and moving around. A part of you wanted to stay locked away, safe within the walls of your bedroom. But a larger part knew you had to emerge and try to fix the damage you had caused. Instinct and habit were battling it out with growth and trust, and you knew which you had to choose.
Emerging from your self-made cell, you sheepishly made your way toward the kitchen where the sounds of action were coming from. The smell of food cooking suddenly flooded your nostrils and when you turned into the kitchen, you found Yoongi standing at the stove as he prepared breakfast, two awaiting plates set to the side. Why was he cooking for you?
As you entered his peripheral, he turned to you, his eyes wide, his features as gentle as ever. The tension was palpable, but the slight upturn of Yoongi’s mouth helped to cut it just slightly.
“Thanks for the blanket,” he spoke to you, your heart racing at the minor interaction. Nodding at him, he returned his gaze back down to the contents within the frying pan. “Did you sleep ok?”
Scrutinizing him slightly, you stared at him as he tossed around the egg mixture, his eyes not lifting as he patiently waited for your response. “Not really,” you admitted quietly, Yoongi’s sweet orbs meeting yours once again. How could he look at you with so much understanding after last night? He should be angry and bitter, lecturing you on your behavior.
The man silently turned to the coffee pot, filling one of your mugs before adding some milk and sugar, fixing it just how you liked it. The simple gesture had tears pricking your eyes because after everything, he was still caring for you. Because he wanted to.
Walking toward you, he held the steaming ceramic cup out to you, forcing a small smile of gratitude from you. “Thanks,” you whispered as you took the coffee from him, holding back tears that Yoongi immediately noticed.
“Kid,” he whispered with a frown just as you directed your misty eyes to the contents of the mug, suddenly finding the tan coloring of the liquid fascinating. “Hey,” he called for your attention.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled childishly. “I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know how to-” you cut yourself off as a tear fell to your thumb, your hand wrapped around the warm mug. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, stepping toward you and placing a hand to the back of your head. He dipped his face into your eye line, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you.”
The three words served as a reminder and an explanation, as if his love for you meant he wouldn’t want to treat you with anything but kindness. And that was new. Foreign. And overwhelming.
When he leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead, it all felt even more confusing but you were grateful. Grateful for the respect and compassion he dedicated to you, even when you didn’t feel deserving.
“You don’t know how to do what?” He asked softly, his lips ghosting over your skin.
Pulling away from you, he looked into your eyes. Yoongi was someone who was always a bit awkward with eye contact, struggling to maintain it for too long even with you, and that’s when you realized how hard he was trying to break through your walls. The man was pushing himself outside of his comfort zone in hopes of pulling you out of yours, so you could fall into him like a safety net. He wanted to be that for you.
“You’re supposed to be mad at me or giving me the silent treatment or something and I just-” you shrugged as Yoongi’s eyebrows pulled together as though he was studying you. “It feels like you’ve already forgiven me and I don’t know how to do this without the anger or feeling like I have to grovel for your love.”
The man shook his head instantly, a pout forming on his pretty lips. “You never have to grovel for my love, who taught you that, Kid?” He asked sadly, his empathy washing over you and your past. “I just love you,” he told you for the second time that morning. And as your heart pounded against your chest, Yoongi’s hand found your lower back. “We do this by talking about it. With understanding and accountability. So will you sit at the island and talk to me while I finish cooking us breakfast?”
You had never had a safe place to land, making you believe you were meant to fly, never staying in one place for too long. But Yoongi was giving you that place to land, to rest, to find shelter. Nodding at him, he gave you a small close mouthed smile, one of those ones that pushed his soft cheeks up in just the way you loved. His hand slowly dragged around to your side before sliding off your hip as he headed back to the stove. And you followed, taking a place on one of the stools, setting your mug on the island as you watched Yoongi appreciatively.
“I’m sorry for leaving in the past,” he started, your eyes popping wide open, not expecting for him to initiate the conversation there. “I’m sorry for not fighting for you, and I’m sorry that still looms over you. I had hoped that you were able to move past it but I understand the impact it made and the precedent it set.”
“I wasn’t holding it over you,” you interjected, not wanting him to think that you were hanging onto his mistakes to use against him. “I didn’t even know it still hur-” you cut yourself off, feeling guilty for bringing the word hurt into the discussion.
“It hurts you, Kid,” he looked up from the pan as he spoke. “You can say that.”
“It’s just when that happened it reaffirmed at the time everything I knew to be true about love, you know? Like, it’s fleeting and within an instant it can be removed,” you explained.
“I understand,” he nodded. “And you shouldn’t feel guilty for being affected by my actions.”
“The same can be said for you,” you pointed out, a small smile curving on Yoongi’s lips.
“Touché ,” he lightheartedly commented, making you smile in return. “But you were feeling rejected, Kid. That is on me.”
“No, because I never vocalized anything,” you disagreed.
“I should have known,” he mumbled, expressing disappointment in himself.
“Are you a mind reader?” You asked him, making him stop his inward spiral as he stared at you. “I should have told you so much sooner how I was feeling. I didn’t. That was immature of me.”
Taking a moment to think, the man shook his head at himself. “I still should have never made you feel rejected,” he said, defeat evident in his tone.
“Yoongi,” you sighed. “Baby, sometimes I worry that you make so few mistakes in our relationship that you get this standard of perfection thrown on you, and that’s not realistic. You’re going to fuck up, I’m going to fuck up, I don’t want it to be the end of the world when that happens.”
Stunned by your words, he stared at you with widened eyes, his jaw slightly opened, appearing almost frozen in place. Closing his mouth, he cleared his throat before wetting his lips just slightly, his tongue lingering in the corner of his mouth as he sorted through his thoughts.
“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted softly, your lips forming into a pout as tears formed in your eyes.
“I know that,” you assured him. “Yoon, we had one of our biggest fights last night where I gave you my worst and since then I’ve caught you finishing my laundry and cooking me fucking breakfast, and you’ve been nothing but sweet to me, and- do you know how incredible that is? How much that means to me?”
Yoongi blinked quickly, an attempt to conceal the tears that had bubbled in his own eyes. You were certain that a conflict as big as the one you and Yoongi had found yourselves in should be harder to fix. There should be more conversation, more pleading, more tears, more fighting. But he presented you with a safety net, and you found yourself breaking through your own walls and falling into it.
“I love you,” you told him, wanting to assure him the way he did you.
Sighing, he stared at you, gratitude shimmering in his orbs. “Can you forgive me for the past?”
“I already did,” you told him sincerely. And you had. “It’s just a process, you know, unlearning what I thought love was and relearning it as, this,” you gestured between yourself and Yoongi. “I have to accept that this is how you love me and that you’re not going anywhere.” Shrugging at him, you huffed. “Insecurities work their way in but I trust you, Yoongi.”
“I’m still sorry. For the past, and for making you feel rejected,” he told you, making you glare at the man.
“I accept your apology, and it’s ok. But I don’t want you living in a constant state of apology, I won’t allow it,” you told him sternly.
The comment drew a breathy chuckle out of the man, Yoongi’s small gummy smile pushing out the remaining tension, and effectively filling your lungs with air.
“I’m sorry for being immature and blowing up,” you told him. “And for bringing up past shit and being mean and not vocalizing my concerns and-”
“Hey,” he smiled sweetly. “It’s all ok. Really, Kid, we’re ok.”
Nodding at him, you sighed in relief. You were still left with some remaining guilt over the fight, which you’d be making up for whether he wanted you to or not. But you felt a sense of closure to last night, the past two weeks, and the fight that nearly ended your relationship before it could truly start almost a year ago.
As Yoongi broke away from the conversation to place the finished food onto the plates, you glanced to the side of the island, noticing the yellow notepad that sat with the first page folded over the top binding. More words were scribbled than last night, indicating that Yoongi had woken up and finished jotting down lyrics before you emerged from your room.
“Did you read them?” Yoongi’s voice cut through your thoughts as he appeared beside you, setting a plate in front of you. Looking up from the notepad to meet his gaze, you shook your head.
“I didn’t feel like I had the right,” you told him, Yoongi pulling his eyebrows together in scrutiny. “Plus it was dark in there, my eyes aren’t that good,” you joked.
“Yeah you’re blind,” he humorously deadpanned.
“I am,” you easily agreed.
“You could have read them,” he returned to the original topic as he gently dug his fingers through your slept-on hair, massaging the roots sweetly. “It’s about you.”
“A new cypher verse?” You teased, eliciting a chuckle from the man as his shoulders shook adorably.
“You’ll have to do a lot more to earn yourself a cypher verse, Kid.”
Shooting him a glare with your eyebrow raised, you smirked. “Is that a challenge?”
“No,” he shook his head, leaning down toward you. “It’s not,” he whispered just before his lips met yours, kissing you softly. Your hand found his waist, wanting to hold some piece of him as you kissed him back, pouring forgiveness and love into the act.
When he pulled away, a stupidly cute gummy grin directed to you, you couldn’t help but return the smile, a small giggle slipping from your lips. “Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry,” you told him jokingly. “Even when I’m mean,” you added with a forced pout, Yoongi smiling just before placing a peck to your mouth once more.
“You call that mean?” He asked as he pulled away and sat down in the stool next to you. “You’re gonna have to do much better than that, I’m Min Yoongi.”
“He says Min Yoongi as if that’s not synonymous with a honey boy,” you teased as you took a bite of your food, immediately moaning at the taste. Yoongi pulled a disgusted expression at your dramatized reaction to the food, making you giggle.
“I’m your honey boy. That hasn’t changed,” he pointed out just as he took a bite himself.
And as you stared at him with a dumb smile, your eyes holding all of the love in the world, you felt excitement and gratitude that you’d get to shower him in all that love and affection for as long as he’d let you. And if that morning was any indication, he’d be letting you for your entire lives.
—summary: you’re feeling really overwhelmed with all your classes, but thankfully jungkook is there to make you smile.
—pairing: jungkook x reader
—word count: 598
—genre: fluffy fluff!
—warnings: the reader is a little stressed and overwhelmed at first 🥺 ; mentions of calculus
—note: this was written mainly out of hatred for my calculus teacher. but eventually things got better and now i’m feeling really optimistic. essentially, this is a little love letter to myself, so i never forget to smile when i’m sad 😊
“hey,” jungkook greeted as he plopped down beside you. “what are we up to?”
“homework,” you sighed as you began the arduous process of solving—yet another—instantaneous velocity problem, also known as the bane of your existence.
“oh but don’t we have a few days till the calculus test?” he asked, flicking through his apeach planner he had taken from his cousin, soojin. he didn’t admit it outright, but he had a tiny obsession with the character. just a tiny one.
you nodded, “yeah but i really didn’t get question seven part four section a and seven part five in general and i don’t want to fail and i also got history tomorrow and I just really need to focus,” you said hurriedly, feeling the worry and dread twist and curl in your chest. “i need to pass this exam. everything is riding on it.”
“hey, it’s alright i know how you feel,” he said soothingly, gently grabbing your hand and uncurling your fingers from where they were tightly bound around your mechanical pencil. He then curled your fingers around his own. “but try not to overthink things and panic, it'll just make it worse,” he said with a sweet crinkle of his eyes. “maybe just set it aside for now. don’t you have that meme project to do for journalism?”
you facepalmed, before whispering angrily to yourself, “dammit! i forgot about that! i’ve just been too focused on this stupid instantaneous velocity problem!”
“shhhh,” he whispered kindly, catching the eyes of your classmates who were disgruntled at the disturbance. “why don’t we go to the park for a bit? mrs.ji said we have the rest of the period to work anyway.”
you nodded, “okay. what about you though? don’t you have assignments to do too?”
“yeah, but i got a plan,” he said, holding up his apeach planner proudly. “this is more important anyway,” he said with a cheeky smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “besides, you’re looking at the master of memes right here.”
you laughed as he held the door for you, “more like the master of being a meme.”
“right?” he chuckled before making a stupid face and plopping onto a bench.
“wait let me caption this,” he grinned, pulling out of his phone with a suspicious joviality on his face. “‘when u should be studying but are instead stu-dying’” jungkook snickered as he showed you a sleep-deprived photo of yourself.
you flicked his forehead, to which he pretended to groan in pain—though you both knew that you were quite awful at finger flicks—and retaliated with an even worse photo of him.
for the next half hour or so, as the sun slowly set in a sky painted in pinks and purples, the two of you laughed at the different memes you came up with. and, for a moment there, you forgot about all the stress that encumbered your mind. for those blissful moments you sat with jungkook, you remembered to smile, you remembered to have fun during this pivotal time of your life. yes, there would definitely be some moments where the stress weighed you down, but this was your final year of highschool. soon, you’ll be a few steps closer to reaching another reality, one that may have greater burdens, and even greater memories.
what made you the happiest however was the fact that you had jungkook there to remind you to smile, even on the most stressful of days.
the best part of it all though, had to be that shiny 90% you got on that silly calculus test.
Part 3 of The Dis-Ease Files.
Pairing: Surgeon!Yoongi x Physician!Reader
Genres: Angst with a fluffy ending (I’m so sorry why is this sad I’m crying)
AUs: Medical AU, Established Relationship, Married Couple
Word count: 2.0k (why is it sooo long)
Tags/trigger warnings: mentions of blood and surgery, some medical terminology (not important to the plot), mentions of infidelity (no actual infidelity occurs/has occurred), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of marriage troubles, swearing
Ratings: sfw, pg
Summary: On a rare day off, both you and Yoongi spend the day at home, and are forced to confront the state of your marriage.
A/N: I really love writing these so much. Yoongi’s story is a bit different - it’s sadder, and a little more fleshed out in terms of introspection and backstory. I tried my best to keep it realistic but hopeful. Based on the Owen and Cristina bathroom scene from season 8 episode 19, with bits and pieces of Meredith’s voiceover from that episode too. I have such a soft spot for both Drs. Min.
Credits for the header image from here (what a great edit!)
“Are you sure you don’t need me to come in today?” Yoongi’s voice wobbles, concern lacing his tone. He taps his foot anxiously as he looks over his home office, papers strewn about from different research articles he’d been working on. “I could follow up on that patient case we’re using for the joint study.”
Hoseok’s laugh echoes from the other side of the call, and Yoongi can almost feel his smile at the other end, mocking him and his perpetual state of stress and need to constantly be at the hospital.
“Yoongi, HYBE isn’t going to collapse after one day without its most brilliant neurosurgeon. We’ll be fine here. Just enjoy your day off with your wife. Gotta go, I’ll talk to you later!”
Yoongi doesn’t even get a chance to say anything as the line shuts off, leaving him in silence once more. His foot hasn’t stopped bouncing, and he chews on his bottom lip anxiously as the reason for his nerves comes to mind.
You. His wife. A brilliant doctor in your own right, you’d been engrossed in your studies to become a board-certified dermatologist over the past few months, all while taking care of your own patients. Yoongi couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen you in something other than scrubs or pyjamas.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you come out of your own office, hunched over the computer all day looking over notes when you got home. The two of you had even stopped running into each other in the hospital cafeteria, your once-a-week lunch dates a distant thing of the past.
His eyes mist as he thinks back on the memory of the first time you met: him, just promoted to neurosurgery attending, and you, a bright-eyed 1st year resident, both caught under the mistletoe at the annual hospital Christmas party. Instead of leaning in for a kiss, you’d picked his brain, blowing him out of the water with your knowledge. A little over a year later, he’d finally gotten his revenge, making a joke about the kiss you stole from him as he pressed his lips to yours in front of all your loved ones in the orchestra hall you’d gotten married in.
Cut to now, when the two of you were little more than glorified roommates. Life at the hospital was always full of ups and downs, so when had life between the two of you become so mundane?
Slamming the door to the bathroom shut, you sink down onto the floor, your body overcome with sobs. Your brain was absolutely exhausted, and you couldn’t take looking at your notes for a second longer. Months of your life had been given away to studying for your board exam, months you’d gone without seeing Yoongi, touching him, holding him.
Yoongi had always been so patient and gentle with you - the calm candle to your crackling fireplace, always excusing himself to let you study, and never bothering you when you came home from seeing patients and needed to focus. At first, you’d relished how thoughtful and attentive his gestures seemed, but over time, they started to feel cold. Almost like he didn’t want to be around you, like he didn’t want to cuddle on the couch and watch movies, like he didn’t want to kiss every single inch of your body as the two of you rolled around in the satin sheets of your bed.
The two of you had resigned yourself to never seeing each other at the hospital anymore, your busy schedules never seeming to line up. Until last Thursday. You’d finally finished up early in the morning, heading over to the Neuro department to seek out Yoongi. But as you stepped out of the elevator, you saw him - with her.
Kim Do-Yeon. Second-year neurology resident. While not a surgeon herself, she’d always tagged behind Yoongi, pressing him for info about his research and cases. Just like you had. Bile rose up in your throat as you saw Yoongi give her one of his huge gummy smiles and a laugh.
“Let’s go to the cafeteria, we can talk more there,” his voice rings out, and you realize they’re headed straight for the elevators. Ducking your head, you hold back tears as you brush past them, Yoongi not even taking his eyes off Do-Yeon to notice your presence. Jogging down the end of the corridor towards the abandoned stairwell, you spend the lunch hour hunched over. You’d called out sick for the rest of the day.
The memory haunts you now as you slump onto the bathroom floor. You’d overheard Yoongi’s conversation with Hoseok earlier on the phone. How he’d been begging to go back to the hospital so he wouldn’t have to be here with you - so he could see Do-Yeon.
The force of a loud knock wakes you from your vulnerable state as the door shakes behind you. Blinking your eyes, the tears clinging to your lashes fall as you make out Yoongi’s voice behind the door.
“___?” he calls out nervously. “Are you alright in there? I-, I heard the door slam, and then I heard someone crying. Please, open the door.”
You look down at the floor listlessly, wondering why he even wants to talk to you right now. He has his patient voice on right now, sweet and caring, and it makes your heart drop even more. That hadn’t been the tone of voice he’d used when it happened. The screams and the yells are what you remember, your front door slamming shut, and Yoongi’s car backing out of the driveway. Gritting your teeth together, you decide not to respond.
The knocks become louder, more frantic, as Yoongi begins to yell.
“___, please, open the door! Are you hurting yourself? Are you alright?”
Panicked by your lack of response, Yoongi keeps knocking, knuckles becoming raw against the wood grain.
What was going on in there? Yoongi’s mind flashes back to the last time he found you in the bathroom, lying in a pool of your own blood. His heart stops.
“___, if you don’t open the door right now, I’m going to break it down.”
Yoongi braces himself, stepping back and lunging as he prepares himself to ram into the door. On 3,2,1-
The door flies open, and Yoongi stumbles through, falling shoulder first onto the floor as he wipes out.
“Ouch! Fuck, that hurt!” he groans, rubbing his shoulder.
Looking up at your face, he’s met with the sight of a grin. Suddenly, you break out into giggles, the sound of your laughter echoing against the bathroom tiles.
Yoongi’s face is frozen in shock, unable to believe his ears, but your laughter isn’t stopping him any time soon. You sound so light, carefree, and happy that he can’t help the smile that breaks out onto his face. Soon enough, he’s laughing along with you.
The laughs continue as he hears you wheezing, struggling to get words out amongst your giggles.
“You… are an idiot, Min Yoongi! An idiot! How many times have I told you to be careful with your shoulder? You’d think a fucking surgeon would have some idea of how to take care of themselves!”
“And me!” you point to yourself. “I’m an idiot too! An absolute idiot because I’m a freaking doctor who’s the best resident in her year, and I’m sitting here on a bathroom floor sobbing my eyes out because I had a fucking miscarriage and my husband’s probably having an affair because he doesn’t love me anymore! And I have to study for my boards, which I’m probably going to fail at this point!”
Your cackling dies down as you end the statement on a sob, the words heavy in your throat. A strange look crosses Yoongi’s face, and he looks down at the floor.
You want to scream as Yoongi stands up and makes his way past you, leaving you alone in the bathroom once more. You want to cry, but you’re too tired. Closing your eyes, you rest your head against the doorframe.
Footsteps interrupting your slumber, your eyes open to the figure of Yoongi crouched next to you on the bathroom floor, a mini whiteboard and marker in his hands.
“Neurofibromatosis Type 1,” his voice rumbles as he writes it out on the whiteboard. “A genetic disease caused by a faulty gene that leads to tumors of the nervous system. One of the first signs of detection is abnormal freckling and lesions on the skin.”
“That was your opening line. We’d just met, and you had me head over heels with that one fact. A fact I already knew, but you spun it to show me how we were connected. In medical school, they teach us about the systems of the body. How everything’s connected. Like that one song - the foot bone’s connected to the shin bone.”
You let out a laugh at his offkey rendition of Them Bones, and he takes the moment to wrap his arms around you, resting your head against his shoulder.
“But it’s more complicated than that. Everything’s connected but in the most beautiful and tragic of ways. There’s a system that helps you breathe, there’s one that keeps you standing, there’s one that helps you eat, one that helps you feel. If you take one bone out, you hit one nerve, you puncture one vessel, everything falls apart. You can’t move, you can’t breathe, you can’t feel pain, or joy, or love.”
Yoongi’s voice cracks as tears roll down his face, realizing that when the body’s systems began to fail was when patients came to him, and to you. They put their trust in their doctors because when something began to fail was when patients realized how heavily they depended on it all along.
“I want to tell you that there's nothing going on with Do-Yeon because you're the only person I'll ever be able to love,” he breathes. “I want to tell you that I miss you. I want to tell you that you’re the most amazing doctor I’ve ever known and that all your hard work will pay off one day. But I also need to tell you I’m sorry. You needed me, our baby needed me, and we needed each other. And I failed you. I failed you both.”
Yoongi’s sobs wrack his entire body as he shakes against you, rocking back and forth. Reaching up, your brush away the tears on his face with your fingertips, pressing your forehead to this.
“The sad part of our job,” you breathe out. “Is that we see things fail all the time. Surrounded by so much failure, by so much pressure, it’s hard not to get overwhelmed. But do you know what keeps me going, Yoongi? Part of it is the gift we have - the ability to take a failing situation and turn it around. There’s so much beauty in that, so much hope. But the biggest part of it has always been you. You’re my support system. Even if you may fail me, even if you let me down, that never takes away from the fact that I need you. I always have, and I always will.”
The two of you hold each other for the rest of the night in the bathroom, never moving from your spot, eyes closing and arms wound tightly. When the sunlight streams in through the window in the morning, he rubs his eyes blearily. Lifting you up in his arms, he walks you to the bedroom, setting you down before making his way to the phone in the corner of your room.
Dialing the number to the main office, he connects with the receptionist, looking over at you with a gentle smile on his face.
“Mrs. Choi? Can you reschedule all my consultations and follow-ups post any surgeries today? I’d like to end the day early, my wife hasn’t been feeling well lately and I need to come home and be there for her.”
A/N pt. 2: It was important to me to show how this one moment doesn’t heal them - but it helps them take the steps to getting there. This one dealt with some hard stuff - my heart goes out to any of you who have dealt with, or are currently dealing with loss or feeling unloved. I’ll be your support system. Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜
a/n: i wrote this the other day when i saw these photos and then i forgot to post it lol
You sit on top of your suitcase with a huff, the few last-minute items that you had added making the luggage just too full to zip shut. You would get it though, that extra sweater was coming if it was the last thing you did.
“Is it a little full?” Jimin prompts, rounding the corner from the hallway to stand in the doorway of the bedroom. You hear him laugh at you as you struggle to close the zipper, exerting way more energy than you cared to admit.
“I may have packed too much,” you joke, finally succeeding in closing the zipper, brushing the hair off your forehead and letting out a small sigh.
“Really?” he teases, pushing off the wall and walking towards you, helping you pick the heavy luggage off the floor, forever the gentleman. You let out another sigh as he props up the suitcase and rolls it to the door.
It's then that you get a good look at him since he's finished getting ready. He's in black from head to toe, the Louis Vuitton sweatshirt he had been so excited about getting and the one of his favorite pairs of jeans. His hair is pushed back into a hat, long enough that it sticks out at his neck.
He looks fucking hot.
“You okay?” you hear him cut through the daydreaming, his eyebrow raising with a smile.
You let out a small hum, chewing on your lip as you step closer to him. There's a reply on the tip of your, but you're not quite done taking him in yet. His face is covered in confusion at your silence, gaze dropping to admire the outfit once again.
“Do we have to leave right now?” you question finally, closing the distance between him and you and resting your palms against his waist.
He lets out a laugh, realization hitting him all at once. “Yeah, baby,” he answers, resting his fingers under your chin and lifting your gaze. “We really do need to leave right now,” he insists, “otherwise we'll be late.” He leans down to press a kiss against the bridge of your nose, and then another on the corner of your mouth.
“But, like,” you continue, squeezing his waist, “how late?” You trail your hands down to the hem of his shirt, tucking your fingers under the fabric and looping them through the whole of his belt loops. You use your new hold on him to your advantage, pulling him flush against you, his chest pressed against yours. You can't stop, you know if Jimin says you'll be late it's probably not just late, but really late.
“Y/n…” he warns, his voice just a little serious, though he makes no attempt to move away, his hands grabbing onto your triceps.
“We don't even have, like,” you persist, “ten minutes?” You push slightly closer to settle your lips against the column of his neck, your mouth pressing light, and then not so light, kisses against the mouth.
He lets out a sigh, tilting his head slightly to allow your lips to work more easily against the skin. He trails his hands to your waist, his tight grip contradicting his words. You think he's caved, that you'll get what to you want and he'll press you into the mattress, or maybe against the wall, or the desk, or the-
“Baby,” he insists one more time, using his newfound hold on your torso to push you further away, effectively removing your mouth from him. “We really do not have time. I'm sure the guys are already waiting.”
You pull your hands from his waistband, grabbing his hand from your waist to press a chaste kiss against his palm. “Fine,” you resign with a pout. “But next time you're gonna look like this,” you pause, looking at his outfit again, “we better not be running late.”
ಌ summary: a decade wasn’t enough to rid you of the pesky, silly and not so little crush you harbored for jeon jungkook during your miserable teenage years. even now, when he’s a totally different person from the geek you used to know.
ಌ listen to the playlist.
ಌ read the teaser.
ಌ pairing: jjk x reader (f).
ಌ genre: childhood friends to lovers | high school reunion au | angst + fluff.
ಌ rating: nc-17.
ಌ word count: 785.
ಌ content warning(s): swearing/heavy language, angst, mentions of unrequited love + specific warnings in each chapter.
ಌ taglist (reply to this post or send me an ask to be tagged): @fangirl125reader @helenazbmrskai @babyrosieareroses @blue-jade @vantezza @jkiddingjeon @akshstudios @queenmasterxx @ggukkieland @daggersandicedcoffee @kookxin @illegurlbangtan @supernoonanyc @pinkbubblegumuniverse @bloopkook @bbangtanlove95 @kirbykook @haeilove @moonchild1 @bbtsficrecs @siadreams @namjeonii @crmyclit @suzysuee @jimilter
ಌಌಌ chapter navigation:
𝐈 . first chapter coming up on september 25th.
ಌಌಌ drabbles & extras:
𝐈 . to be released soon.
ಌಌಌ general series navigation:
• feedback and reviews.
• answered asks.
• aesthetic moodboard.
• listen to the playlist.
• taglist requests.
Can you imagine Yoongi falling asleep on you? Like you are cuddling and he has you trapped between his body and the couch and when you playfully try to push him off saying that he's heavy he mumbles something like 'no, it's comfy here, you're comfy, you are home' and you just melt. Next thing you know, he's peacefully sleeping, his head in the crack of your neck and every time he breaths out his hot breath tickles your neck and makes you shiver. One of his hand is still in your hair, the other has a tight grip of your shirt as if he's scared you could leave him or disappear all of a sudden. And you just lay there enjoying the weight of his body on yours (a proof that he's real, flesh and blood, and he's there with you) while gently running your fingers in his hair, then you lightly trace lines on his back with a fingertip and then back to his hair, over and over again.
➳ Pairing: Roommates!Best Friends!BTS x Roommates!Best Friend!OC | Side FwB!Male!OC x FwB!OC [This is confusing, but this is the protagonist as well]
➳ Members: All
➳ Genre: Angst | Smut | Fluff (later on in the story) | F2L
➳ Rating: 18+ (Mature)
➳ Word Count: 6k
➳ Warnings: mc got stood up | mentions of not eating properly | mc faints | all symptoms of fainting | over-exhaustion | domme mc | sub male oc | sucking | marking kink | biting kink | finger kink | begging kink | exhibitionism | handjob in public | teasing | degradation | mentions of praise kink | dirty talk (i think) | aftercare | emotional constipation | cum play | cum eating | this is not a yandere fic, promise! | bts being just a little manipulative and guilt-trip the mc |
➳ Summary: They were the fuel that ignited your heart, caused it to erupt into flames, and you found yourself falling into the fire, no matter how much you wanted to protect yourself from the burn.
A/N: I hope you enjoy this! I had a really fun but tough time (???) writing this and if I have missed any warnings, do let me know :))
MINORS DNI! THIS CONTAINS 18+ CONTENT!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist | Part 3
"Sooo, where are we going first?" Taehyung asked as he shoved his hands in his pocket to keep them warm, looking at you with sparkling eyes.
"I don't know, you tell me." You replied nimbly and the smile on his face vanished in a second.
He thought you would be a tad bit more excited, more eager to help them set up the perfect first date with Yuna, just like you had promised them some days back.
They swear they had never been happier with you than when you agreed to their deal, which was kind of one-sided and not fit to be called a deal, but a promise is a promise nonetheless.
Promises are like fire.
They are pure and unalloyed, like silver refined in a furnace.
They let you live your whole life with the flame of hope that one day, you will nurture it into something bigger and better. That you will fulfill your promise when the right time arrives. That you will let the fire burn more after you have achieved everything in said promise.
You remember the first-ever promise the boys made to you.
It had been a cold day, the rain had been pouring down harshly, covering the entire city with a glum mood. You had been chilling in your room, listening to a couple of heavy metal songs, gliding through the house in your pajamas, when a ding from your phone brought your attention back to your surroundings. Jungkook had messaged you, asking you to come down to the diner a couple of miles downtown because he wanted to ' hang out with you at your usual spot'.
Though you weren't completely sold out on the idea, none of them really called you for impromptu hangout sessions like this without a motive, you still went, because your stupid heart was smitten with them, and it jumped and any opportunity to spend time with them.
So you hopped into your car with a small smile on your face after locking the door since none of them seemed to be home, which was quite unusual. Seven boys, and none of them home? Seems highly unlikely.
But you happily made your way downtown, blasting 'Call Me Maybe' by Carly Rae Jepsen on the speakers, as you hummed along with the tune of the masterpiece.
You remember being so excited that you nearly fell out of your car and sprinted towards the diner, not caring about anything, the people, the cars, the litter on the street, or the awful rain that soaked you to the bone.
You could easily dry up inside the diner. Maybe this could even give you a chance to have Jungkook would sit next to you with his arms around your shoulders to warm you up or even give you his jacket. You'd protest for a little while, acting unperturbed despite the fact that you were so cold, but he'd insist and give you his black leather jacket that smelled like detergent and vanilla perfume at the same time, making the heat return to your cheeks.
But he wasn't.
There was no jacket, no contact, no Jungkook.
You searched around the parking lot, even went as far as asking one of the employees to check the washroom in case he had been there, but he wasn't.
You called him multiple times, but it always went to voicemail and the frustration in your veins intensified when you finally realized what had just happened.
You had been stood up.
You weren't angry, you weren't going to shout at Jungkook when you got home, you weren't going to throw a tantrum or mope around, you were just going to express your disappointment and tell him to be a little bit more aware of what had happened and call it a day.
You left the area with a frown plastered on your face and your heart beating at an uncontrollable pace, even though you had told yourself you would be calm. When you burst through the doors and saw him and Hoseok hanging out on the sofa, laughing like they hadn't a care in the world, you laughed.
Oh. They usually like to stay in and hang out on the sofa.
You burst out, an oddly disturbing sneer making its way past your lips, leaving the two boys on the sofa startled. They jumped from their seats and stared at you in disbelief.
The Chaewon who never smiles, is laughing?
"Chae, what happened?"
"You are creeping me out." Hoseok mumbled, looking at you with wide eyes.
"And why are you soaked wet?" Jungkook enquired.
You finally stopped and wiped the tears in your eyes. You looked at the younger dead in the eye with a blank face, hands fisted at your side and feet digging into the ground.
"Jeon fucking-Jungkook, are you seriously asking me why I am soaked wet?"
"You are asking me-" You pointed to yourself "why I am soaking wet?"
He nodded nimbly, scared of what's to come.
"Bitch, you asked me to come to the diner downtown and stood me up and you dare to ask me why I am wet when you were hanging out with Hoseok in the heat and I was standing like a fucking idiot, waiting for you to come?"
Okay, maybe you didn't keep calm, any rational thought went out of your brain the second you saw him on the sofa, and anger took over. You felt you were justified in your actions, shouting your frustrations out at him, while he just stood gawking at your unexpected outburst.
"I'm sorry Chae, but I didn't message you, I don't think I did."
"Check your phone."
He scrambled to take his phone out of his pocket, switching it on and clicking on the Messages app. He looked at his phone for a second, and then you and then back on his phone. He switched it off and looked at you with puppy eyes.
"Yeah, I accidentally messaged you, sorry. I wanted to message Hoseok." He slapped his forehead while the other just shook his head at him.
"Are you so dumb that you messaged the wrong person? Seriously Kook?" Hoseok clicked his tongue mockingly, and it seemed as if he was feigning surprise, and that irked you, a lot.
"Why are you trying to downplay it, dude?" You asked him.
"I'm not, I'm just disappointed in Kookie that he let you down like this." But you knew better.
If Hoseok had even remotely felt chagrined at Jungkook's failure to show up, you knew he would have that look on his face. That look where he looked at you as if you just murdered his cat or destroyed his car. Like you hurt him really bad, even though he wasn't the one who was hurt.
But Hoseok right now didn't have that look. He had that look in his eyes, that glint, and you didn't know how to explain it. It felt evil- almost.
The bell rang, and Hoseok was the one who rushed to answer the door, and you heard a loud holler from the entryway. The boys had arrived, you thought.
You just sighed and glanced at Jungkook, who met your eyes in an instant.
"Look, I promise I'll take you out some other time, okay Chae?"
He didn't wait for a response and rushed to the other boys with a smile playing on his lips, and you were left disappointed yet again by the response.
But they didn't notice, of course, they didn't.
You know that the promise Jungkook made to you that day, wasn't really serious, at least to him, but to you it was. It was the first promise one of them had ever made to you, and that made you feel a little giddy, it did at that time. But not anymore.
Why is that?
Firsts everything matters. Be it for friends or couples.
Firsts hangouts, rants, drinks, hangovers, hugs, kisses, dates, intimacy, holding hands and the list goes on. Firsts are always important.
And they were to you too. But they weren't when Jungkook's idea of hanging out with you was ranting about Yuna as you sat in his room, you on the small chair in the corner, and him laid out on the bed. He rambled for what seemed like years and you were a second away from leaving.
You had been disappointed, to say the least.
"Chae, Chae?" You heard a body shaking you out of your thoughts.
"You zoned out." You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of the haziness from the flashback you just experienced.
"Yeah, okay let's go." You murmured.
And you zoned out again.
The thing was, in Bangtan's case, where they hadn't even gotten to the stage of being in a relationship with Yuna, you concluded so much effort was being done to impress the girl because 'the first impression is the last impression.'
Fuck all that shit.
You just wanted to go home and throw yourself out your window. It had been a tough couple of days with your emotions all over the place. And trying to keep yourself composed while juggling with everything and anything had taken a toll on you.
Your eyes had sunken in their sockets, a dark ring forming around them, and your cheeks had paled, as if there was no circulation going on in there, your hands and ribs had become a little bony, but they weren't really that serious, or permanent, so you left them be.
You didn't want to add more stress on yourself.
"Hey guys, decided where we're headed too?" Namjoon caught up to you guys first, followed by the rest, chest heaving slightly as he had run the stretch to reach the location you and Taehyung were in.
They had parked the car a little further from the shopping complex since there were no free spots near the opening, so it had been decided by a very energetic Taehyung that they would leave you by the gates and go find a parking spot.
"Chae is not telling me, she just keeps zoning out." Taehyung looked at you.
"Come on, dude. What's gotten into you?" Taehyung whined.
"Nothing. Um, let's go to the hardware shop first and then get some fluffy blankets and other stuff. You said you wanted fairy lights, a screen projector, and a big tent." You finally gave in to their wishes.
Chirps of agreement echoed in the air and you started your journey to your first stop.
You had maybe been to a tad too many places.
The boys had bought so many things, expensive that too, you were sure that they had spent over a thousand dollars right here. Not to mention all the things they would buy on the day of the date itself.
Your feet burned in your sneakers, you were running on the last strands of your patience and your head pounded harshly, making you dizzy, and you even had to stop multiple times to take a grasp on reality, clutching on the wall nearest to you.
"Are we done now? I want to go home." You asked no one in particular.
"Yeah, I guess we can." Namjoon agreed.
"But I wanted to go to the new shop that opened right around the corner. They serve the best jjajangmyeon, I heard." Jungkook said.
"Oh yeah! I know that Ahjussi who opened it. I think we will be able to get a nice discount as well!" Hoseok revealed excitedly.
"You guys go ahead, I'll call it a day."
"But you haven't eaten yet, Chae. That's not good for you." Yoongi stepped forward with a stern look, though he looked absolutely adorable with his chipmunk cheek-
Shut up Chaewon.
"I'm not hungry anyway. It's okay, I'll be fine."
"I'll make sure she eats something guys. I'm going home too. Gotta catch up on assignments." Jin stated and was followed by Jimin, who wanted to go home as well since he felt exhausted.
"Okay, then let's go."
Jimin put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you towards the direction of Jin's car. You had bought 3 cars, two of those belonging to Namjoon and Taehyung.
Your eyes were droopy and your steps were sluggish, being supported by Jimin was the only way you were even able to walk to the car.
"Where's Jin?" You asked him after he had laid you down on the backseat of the car and seated himself in the driver's seat himself.
"He's just talking to the boys, confirming some things."
You nodded your head, though he couldn't see you from the back seat, and curled into a ball on the cold seat, with your feet directly in front on the air conditioner vent. You sighed in relief and closed your eyes, falling into your dreamland.
You don't know when or how they managed to take you upstairs, all the way to your room, especially seeing how you had the extra burden of carrying the various shopping bags you had, but they did somehow.
You got up from the bed, stretching slightly with your arms in the air, struggling to accustom your eyes to the darkness in the room. You held up the covers of your bed a little. You were still in your outside clothes, so you got up and freshened up, cleaning up your face and then wearing your pajamas.
After you were done, you made your way to the dining room to see if the two boys were there or if they had gone to sleep in their room. But to your surprise, they were seated on the sofa, chattering amongst themselves quietly and you couldn't make out a single thing.
You shrugged, seeing as they took no notice to your form standing right in front of them, and went to the kitchen and took out an apple from the fridge since your stomach had been grumbling since the morning like crazy.
Walking back down to the living room, you couldn't help but feel creeped out by the eery silence that loomed over the dorm, as if something bad was going to happen soon.
This time, the two boys immediately turned their heads in your direction, taking you by surprise, almost as if they were anticipating your arrival. You jumped, which they immediately noticed and it was Jimin who got up and pulled your arm towards him, pushing you down on the sofa, whilst you were squeezed by the two boys on the other side of you.
"What is it now?" You asked, aggravated at the treatment they were giving you.
"Nothing, we just wanna spend time with our girl." Their words were so sweet, coated with honey, and that made you shiver.
They had never been this sweet to you, always had been playful and teased you, nudged you, riled you up, and did all of the things you would expect 'bros' to do. Them acting so soft towards you came across as a massive surprise, and you weren't sure whether you liked it or not.
"Okay, why are you guys still here? Didn't you say that you were tired, Jimin and you wanted to complete your work, Jin?"
"Uh, well you see, uh-"
"What Jiminie is trying to say is that we, actually Jimin took a nap and I did all my work, so I-we feel pumped up now, yeah."
You nodded at them, their words and actions were suspicious, but you were still tired, after-effects of walking around the whole day and you couldn't bring yourself to care for what they were saying.
"We are watching the 'Suicide Squad'. Watch with us, please?" Pleading eyes stared into your own and you mentally cursed at Jimin for applying the tactics he knew would work so well.
You turned your attention back to the screen, giving Jimin the sign that you were in fact going to stay. He hummed happily and placed his head on your shoulder, though he was significantly taller than you and it definitely must have hurt his neck.
Abort fucking mission.
Why was he getting so close to you? Placing one hand on your shoulder was enough physical contact as it is, but then squeezing you between him and JIn and then this? He was definitely playing at something, since he wasn't one to be so outwardly affectionate with you, especially.
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, shaking your shoulders as lightly as you could, hoping to get the message that you didn't want such contact across his thick skull.
"Chaewonnie, stop moving." He whined with a pout on his face.
"I can literally feel your neck hurting to bend down so low."
"Hey! That isn't Jiminie's fault! It's just that you are so short." Jin came to Jimin's rescue.
"Well, that isn't my-"
"I know right hyungie, she's so short and cute and squishy, like a strawberry."
"No! Like a blueberry! You remember that time Kookie put blue dye in her shampoo?"
"Of course! How could I forget? She was literally the talk of the college."
"Okay, okay, stop."
You pushed Jimin's face off your shoulder and got up to put some distance between you guys, or else you might just have hurt them, a little.
"You idiots! Jungkook knew that I had a presentation the same week and that counted for like, half of my grade that year! You don't know how I had to literally beg my professor to not deduct my marks for 'improper conduct' okay? So shut up!"
"I know Chaewonnie! That's what makes it so funny!" They laughed together.
Those fuckers. Did they seriously didn't hear how you almost failed because of Jungkook's prank? Or did they just decide not to comment on it? Either way, you were furious at their behavior and stomped your bare feet on the carpet, and turned your back towards them, starting to make your way to your room.
You were yanked back by a force on both your arms, letting out a small yelp, and found yourself plopped between the two men again. Strands of hair were on your face from the sudden movement, disabling your vision for a second. You struggled to get your arms out of the grip of the men beside you.
One of them, Jimin brought his hand up to your face and moved your hair away from your face, all while staring deep into your eyes and holding contact, and tucked them neatly behind your ears, smiling with his cheeks painted red.
Did he seriously find your miserable state so funny that he was on the verge of laughing again? How can one possibly get so red, just from laughing?
"What the fuck do you guys want? Mocking me wasn't enough for you?" You sneered.
"No, no it's not like that! We just don't know how to say it and small talk is the only way to keep you here! We just wan-want you to- Jin hyung help!"
"No, Jimin you say it!"
"Jin hyung! No, you say it!"
"I'm not saying it."
"I'm not either! I'll die of embarrassment otherwise."
They were essentially shouting into your ears, making them hurt and your arms felt numb with each passing second, their grip on you increased with each yell, and you felt light-headed.
"Speak up, or let me go."
"It's just that-"
"Jimin, Jin, tell me now. What did you do?!"
"Well. It's not what we did, it's more like what we want you to do-"
"And what is that you want me to do?"
"We want you to- uhm"
"Jimin shut up. I'll explain. The thing is, we need you to help us set up the venue and everything, you know. Like you know a lot about interior designing, and we figure you can help us since you basically designed our whole dorm. You know?"
"I told you that I will only help you 'plan' the date and I did. I literally told you everything you have to do. Food, tent, lights, movies, games. That's literally it. You can't even set up a tent by yourself now?"
"No, we can, set up a tent I mean. We just don't know where. Like where the best location is."
"You guys are seriously so helpless. I'm not helping you."
"Please Chaewonnie! We need you!"
"There are literally only two walls you can set it up on. You don't 'need' me. You just want me to do everything up for you. I'm not wasting my time."
"Chaewon! How are you wasting your time by helping your 'only friends set up a date for their crush? Come on. Please!" Jin let go of your hand and kneeled in front of you, with one hand on your knee.
"Can you please stop touching me? Seriously, you guys, I don't want to help you!"
His hand retreated to his side immediately and you looked at Jimin, who let go of your arm too and looked at the floor.
You got up, moving to your room with shaky steps, you felt even more light-headed now, and the floor seemed to be swaying and the light seemed to be suddenly much brighter. Your steps were unstable and your arms were shaking at your sides, black spots now appearing in your vision.
Somehow, you were able to get inside your room and walked towards the bed, and collapsed on top of it, a majority of your vision now filled with black spots.
You could see the pages of your books on your bedside table turn and flutter every now and then due to cold wind, which seemed to be coming from your open window. But the rustle was delayed, and that scared you a little.
You were seconds away from sleeping for the rest of the night, you could tell.
A knock on your door a few seconds later made your head pound louder. You croaked out in response, hoping the person on the other side of the door could hear you just in case.
"Chae, I'm sorry. We just wanted you to help us. We didn't want to pressure you like that."
You heard after what seemed to be minutes, but in reality, it was just a few seconds later. It was just your brain being hazy and clouded.
"Please help us! I promise we won't ask you for anything else. Promise!"
"Will you help us, Chae?"
You couldn't hear what the person was saying. All you heard was the sweet sound of your books swinging in the wind, lulling you into a night of blissful sleep.
You remember managing to let out another croak as a response, a couple of cheers and shouting from outside, and the next thing you knew, you had fallen into a deep sleep, not knowing whether you wanted to wake up or not.
You woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and the feeling that you wanted to rip your hair out of your scalp. You felt like you had slept for a whole week, though it was only Friday. You felt too relaxed, not in a good way, seeing how you struggled to move your lead-like body. Groaning under your breath, you willed your body to move and cover the distance from your bed to the bathroom.
You had priorities, that were your studies and you needed to attend your classes. It was 7:04 A.M. right now, so you could take your sweet time to reach the bus stand by 8 o'clock. Yours was the last bus stop anyway.
After you had had a nice bath that left you smelling like strawberries like you usually did, you felt the heaviness in your head get better, the tangled mess in your brain got better too.
Though you still felt a little sluggish, you decided to power through it and pay a visit to Leah, the English medicine transfer student, and ask her what to do. Fainting out of the blue was a serious subject and you knew better than to wait for it to pass away, as that would likely put you in more danger. But you would still have to manage by visiting Leah, you couldn't afford a single trip to the doctor after all.
Quickly taking all your essentials and making your way out the door, turning a deaf ear to the cries of the boys at the dining table. Walking to the bus stand made you feel light, and you even found yourself skipping in the breeze merrily.
For once, all the thoughts went out of your mind and you were glad at the fact that you were able to enjoy your time alone-
"Chaewon?" A voice called out your name, a couple of feet in front of you.
You turned your head to the person in question.
"What are you doing here Minjae?"
"I always take the bus at 8:30 but I had to be early at college for basketball trials. So, yeah."
"Uh-huh." You nodded and faced towards the front again.
"Funny seeing you here though. You left quite early last time we met."
"That's how I always leave Minjae."
"Yeah, yeah right. I'm sorry. It's just weird seeing you here without us having sex."
"I know. Don't get used to it."
You were left in an awkward silence, at least that's what Minjae felt, but you just ignored him completely, not even sparing him a look when he cleared his throat in an attempt to get you to glance at him.
Thankfully, the bus soon arrived and you hopped in after Minjae, scanning the area for free seats that weren't the back seat, which was occupied by various sports equipment and bags. God.
On a normal day, you wouldn't have to do that, but today all the seats were occupied by men and women wearing multi-colored sports jerseys.
Fuck you basketball.
You and Minjae ended up sitting in the back seat, pushing some of the bags to the other side and he offered you to squish yourself on the seat next to the window, but you shook your head. You didn't want to be enclosed by Minjae and the bus walls for a good thirty minutes.
Stiffly nodding his head, he made his way to the inner seat and you sat down after him. He placed his bag on the floor after checking if the floor was clean. You opted to keep yours on your lap since it wasn't heavy.
The bus started its journey to your college, and you fiddled with the zippers, looking out the windows on the other side so that you wouldn't accidentally make eye contact with Minjae.
You zoned out, and you couldn't hear the small whimpers Minjae let out, desperately trying to cover the bulge in his pant with his hands.
He tried to yank his bag upwards from the floor but he ended up yanking his elbow in your boob, and you instantly held it in pain, staring at the culprit with fire in your eyes. He looked at you apologetically and tried to motion with his eyes to his bag on the floor, but your eyes caught his hands from your spherical vision.
"You are getting hard in a bus now Minjae?"
"I can't fucking help it! The b-bumps- and I jump and the blood rushes down there. Sorry!"
You groaned and hit your head on the seat to express your frustration, but seeing the small whimpers that still made their way out of MInjae's mouth, you contemplated whether or not to help the poor boy out.
Your tongue dragged against your bottom lip sensually as you stared at his cloth-covered cock and then his eyes, and he gasped when he peeped into your eyes, dilated and filled with lust and the need to dominate. He looked so enticing, curling on himself like that.
"I can help you. Would you like that?" You teased.
"Yes, yes! Please! Yes!" He begged while searching for your hand, wanting to place it on his cock. He just wanted some friction.
"Patience, boy." You tsked at his eagerness and slapped his hand away from yours and moved at your own pace to his cock, which was now fully hard from the anticipation of being touched, that too in a public setting like a bus.
Exhibition kink, go figure.
You pushed his hands out of the way and grasped his cock lightly through the thin layer of his sports shorts as if it wasn't even there, but you knew you had a great effect on him when he moaned lowly.
You slightly ran the back of your finger on his length, while your other hand squeezed and pinched the flesh of his thighs through the cloth. He shook in his seat, making you slap his thigh lightly to make his stop.
"Stop teasing ah~ please~"
"Beg more and I'll decide."
"Please baby~ ah~ I'll do anything~"
"Is that the best you can do? Beg."
He whined at your lack of reaction at his request and placed his hand on top of yours, providing him with the friction he needed. He sighed blissfully, thinking he had the right to disobey you like that, and you-
"You think you make the rules, baby? Do you want a punishment? Right here, right now?" You growled.
"N-no you do Chae! Please, I am your baby, right? You can punish me later but can you please make me cum right now?"
He leaned into your neck and buried his face in the crevice, licking and sucking at the skin over there. One word from you made him weak and he was back to his submissive behavior.
"Aww does me calling you 'baby' turn you on, hmm?"
He nodded his head rapidly at your question, and you could feel his cock twitch in his pants, leaking out more precum as soon as the word left your mouth.
Deciding he had done enough teasing, you pulled slightly at the band of his shorts and he raised his hips enthusiastically, getting your signal almost immediately. His cock popped out and slapped against his stomach and you couldn't help but stare. It had been too long since you had gotten some dick. 4 days too long.
He moaned out a little too loudly as you stared at him, and you averted your gaze to stare anywhere else. A girl two seats in front of you turned around in her seat and stared in your direction. She had heard Minjae, but it seemed as if she didn't think about it much as she faced forward and went back to place her head on another girl's shoulder.
You smirked to yourself and looked out the window to seem inconspicuous, the possibility of getting caught made you eager to make Minjae moan, while he struggled to keep quiet. You pressed your palm on his cock and dragged it up and down, applying pressure.
He kept shifting in his seat with a tense figure, finally getting what he wanted, his head now thrown back and eyes closed, and anyone who looked your way would think that he was sleeping.
Your other hand turned to his thighs, tracing over his muscles before trailing downwards and spreading his legs to cup his balls. They felt heavy in your hands, and you played with each at a time, rolling and massaging them.
You collected the precum from his tip in your fingertips and started to pick up your pace, the squelching noises getting drowned out by the engine of the bus.
He swore that your hand felt like heaven. It grasped his cock with just the perfect grip, moving with the perfect pace, the periodic flicks of your wrist on his tip were just heaven, and your hands on his balls were just another bonus.
"Please Chae, gonna cum." He whispered.
"No, you aren't. Hold it."
"Chae I-I please!"
You started moving your hands faster than before, and he squirmed in your grip. His breathing slowly became heavier beside you, and you guided his mouth to your shoulder again to keep his voice down.
He was about to cum, you could tell from the way he started to grip your thigh and the way his balls started to feel heavier and tighter and you wouldn't stop him. If he decided to ask for permission one again, you would punish him less severely but if he did cum without your permission, then let's just say, he's in for a real treat next time you visit him.
You smirked at the effect you had on him, taking the opportunity to tighten your grip around him more and pay special attention to his tip and the area just under it, pushing him over the edge.
He spilled his seed over your palm, painting it white, as you covered his tip with your entire palm so that it wouldn't get all over his clothes. He whimpered and fell limp in his seat, breathing heavily.
You would have taken your time to overstimulate him, hadn't it been for the fact that you had almost reached your campus.
You gave him some time to recover as you sat there with your cum-covered hand on his lap, waiting for him to grab you some tissues from your bag, as yours were extremely dirty.
"Can you grab the tissues from my bag? Top pocket."
He leaned towards you and did as you told and took out a couple from the packet and handed them to you. You helped him clean his cock up and removed your hand from his lap.
As you stared at your hands, having an urge to just-
"Suck." You turned your body towards him to shield you both from peeping eyes, not that you thought anyone was looking at you anyway. You were blocked from all sides except the front.
"Suck on my fingers."
"Everyone will see." He panicked, looking at you to check if you were actually serious.
"I said, suck."
With anxious eyes, he leaned towards your hands that were right in front of his lips and gently took them in his mouth, sucking and licking his cum. You hummed as you felt him coat your fingers with saliva. He moaned as he tasted himself on your fingers, clearly enjoying the way you gazed at him.
"Good boy." You praised.
He let go of your fingers from his mouth and licked his lips as he let out a gasp. Did you just praise him? You never praised him, choosing to indulge in his degradation kink more often than not, just like you had discussed. But on the rare occasion you did, it meant either that he really did behave like a good boy or it was the calm before a storm.
You got up, after using a tissue to wipe your hands and stroking his hand for a little while to calm his nerves, just as the bus screeched to a halt. You searched his eyes for any sort of drop, and when you felt he was alright, you looked at him for confirmation and he nodded at you.
So you gave him a small smile and got up, picking your bag from your lap and swinging it on your shoulder, making your way out of the bus and getting lost amongst the crowd.
He got up as well, after staring into your direction even after he lost sight of you.
"Fuck Chae, what have you done to me?"
Eyes stared into the back of your head, as you walked in front of them. You made your way to class, walking in the crowded hallway, unaware of who was trailing a couple steps behind you.
They wanted to reach out and talk to you, especially after what had happened earlier in the morning.
They decided against it just as they got close to you, opting to reach out to you another time.
You entered your first classroom and they sighed at the missed opportunity but-
She watched him walk away and she felt her friends stare on the back of her head but she ignored it. He was dressed in a light brown button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up and dark blue jeans. To top everything off, his apron was fitted perfectly that showed off his slightly muscled arms. Now she understood the attraction of Ginger Snaps.