#re: the one with yoongi the cat and the turf war | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eoieopda · 1 year

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Hi, could you do a drabble where your boyfriend Yoongi has to constantly compete against your cat for your affection/attention

SOFT YOONGI HOURS!!!!!!!! i loved this idea so, so much. poor pouty baby :(

Contrary to what Yoongi seemed to think, you could feel him glaring. Not at you — the only other person present — but at the heap of long, grey fur stretched out over your torso and extended legs. Sprawled out across that oversized armchair, your feet swung idly below your knees as they hinged over the plush fabric of the chair’s arm.

A picture of perfect coziness; so blatantly contrary to your boyfriend’s rigid posture on the adjacent couch.

He also failed to notice the way your gaze would flicker from the screen ahead to the periphery — to him and his subtly narrowed eyes. You’d had your suspicions for months now, ever since you moved in together, but his stony expression then was the clearest he’d ever made it:

Min Yoongi was jealous of a cat. And, brat that you were, you seized the opportunity to tease him for it.

Fingers stroking gently down Michiru’s back, you smirked to yourself and turned your attention back to the television. She was a puddle on your chest, melting further and further into purrs until her yellow orbs drooped into blissed-out crescent moons.

“Are you tired, baby?” You hummed as you continued your ministrations. Eyes still purposefully fixed on Alley Restaurant, you created the pitfall for Yoongi to fall in. “Should we go to bed?”

Oblivious to your scheme, in a voice so tiny that your nonchalant mask nearly cracked, Yoongi peeped, “Yes, please.”

“Hmm?” You turned to him as if his response was a surprise. Like you’d forgotten he was there. Then, laying it on thick, you giggled, “Oh, I was talking to Michiru-sama. She looks exhausted, doesn’t she?”

Mouth pulling outwards in a straight line, Yoongi’s displeasure came out as a wordless grunt. It took all your restraint not to laugh at his very poorly hidden pout. Swallowing it down, you pursed your lips tight and looked away before he could catch on.

That poor boy always tried so, so hard to pretend like affection was something he merely — occasionally — tolerated. Like he didn’t want to be the one half-asleep in your lap, with your fingertips rubbing slow circles into his scalp. As if he was just shy of annoyed whenever you pounced on him and polka-dotted kisses over every millimeter of his grimacing face.

The truth was that Min Yoongi was soft. Sooner or later, you’d get him to admit it.

You sat in silence for a few minutes before he eventually stirred. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him toss the knitted throw off his lap and make to stand. So, you figured, he’d thrown in the towel and was now going to be grumpy — alone — in bed. But then, you saw him fluff that discarded blanket into the shape of a circle.

One more harrumph and Yoongi was on his way to you.

Saying nothing, he gently scooped Michiru into his arms. She was too sleepy to react, opting instead to spill out slowly over his forearms like molasses. He ignored the way your eyes widened while your lap-warmer was extricated; and he continued to do so as he placed her into the little blanket bagel he’d crafted. There was an undeniable smugness on his face when she curled up and let her eyes drift shut again. Entirely unbothered.

And then he turned back to you.

“What are you —?” You squeaked out a laugh as his arms hooked under your bent knees and back. Just as carefully as he’d lifted Michiru, Yoongi pulled you off the armchair. He held you just long enough to turn around and plop himself down in the space you were previously occupying with a satisfied sigh.

Wiggling until you were nestled comfortably against his chest, you looked up to find him gazing at the television instead of back at you. Still smirking, of course, pretending not to notice that there was a full-fledged human being in his lap.

You tugged gently at one of the strings dangling from his sweatshirt hood. When he didn’t so much as blink, you nudged, “Are we not going to acknowledge what’s happening here?”

“What’s that, love?” Yoongi asked, feigning surprise at your voice but still not looking, “Or are you talking to my adversary again?”

You furrowed your brow, lifted your hand from your lap, and poked his cheek lightly with your index finger. “I’m talking to my boyfriend about the turf war he’s waging with our pet.”

“I’m not waging a war, baby,” Yoongi corrected you softly. Finally, he tilted his head downward to kiss your forehead. You could feel his lips curve into a smile as they hovered over your skin, “I obviously just won it.”

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