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yoonia · 6 months

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come undone | myg (m)

⟶ Summary | As a reward for Yoongi taking you to the trip of a lifetime and away from your busy lives, you decided to surprise him with a special treatment to help him relax and for the two of you to bond as a couple. What you never expected was for him to show you a different kind of pleasure through it in return.

⟶ Title | Come Undone ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Established relationship!au, Mature, Smut ⟶ Word count | 14,625 words

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; brief mention of alcohol consumption, swearing, contains explicit scenes, including mud bath (which involves…mud), mud play, Yoongi tries to prank OC by dunking her into the mud, nudity, dirty talk, soft dom/switch!Yoongi, sub/switch/brat!reader, Yoongi may have an odd fascination on her feet, fingering, clit play, breast play, mentions of bondage, restraint (mild), sensory play, usage of pet names, sir kink, praise kink, begging, edging, ass slapping/light spanking, public sex, shower sex, hand job, unprotected sex (kinda…OC/reader is on birth control), rough sex, orgasm control/denial, implied creampie, aftercare

⟶ Read on AO3

⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story was written as a commission for @pinkbtsarmy; I’m sorry that it took me so long to finish this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. There might be some changes added from the original prompt/details that we previously talked about as this fic completely ran out of course the moment I started writing it, but I hope you can still enjoy this story. Forgive me for the rough editing. Have fun reading! Additional Note: This story is purely fictional, with the usage of bangtan members’/idol’s names as fictional characters. Any similarities in the usage of names for other characters and circumstances are purely coincidental. Some aspects of this story may not be scientifically or biologically correct, so please don’t take things seriously (and don’t do this at home without supervision!)

This is what dreams are made of.

You keep reminding yourself about this as you try to relax.

Because you have dreamt about this. It might have been a long period of time ago that you have almost forgotten what it was like to be daydreaming and imagining yourself to be in a place like this instead of actually living in it. And you have to keep convincing yourself that you deserve every ounce of the pleasure that is being offered to you, especially after the absolute hell that you had to go through just to be able to enjoy this moment.

Looking out the window, you get a clear view of the thick, white clouds and the clear sky that is partly obscured by their presence.

The sight should have been able to help you forget about everything that you are leaving behind, as this moment is something that you have been waiting for to happen for a long while.

The long, busy months that you had to endure before this long weekend had been a tormenting period of time that you just want to put everything at the back of your mind. The overflowing and frenzy-filled work, along with the family drama and crumbling relationships—both professional and personal ones—had tested every bit of patience that you now barely have left.

And those dreadful months felt even longer when you could barely find any chance to spend enough quality time with your fiancé. Obviously, you have known this to be one of the risks that you had to take when you decided to have a relationship with Min Yoongi, one of the busiest and most sought out man in the country, but never before had it been this challenging.

Matching up your schedule with Yoongi had become almost impossible for you to do, even with the help of his personal assistant and yours. While you had your own busy life to deal with, he too was swamped with his own busy schedule and had been busy flying off to various places across the globe with only a little time spared for him to spend with you.

If only the trip you are having this weekend had not been planned since a long time ago, long before your schedules collided and you were both thrown deeply into your bustling lives, maybe then you wouldn’t have been here today—sitting on what is probably the cosiest seat you have ever sat on your whole life, and flying on a private plane taking you halfway across the world, with your fiancé pampering you the best way he knows how.

A private plane.

You feel giddy as reality sinks in and you are reminded of how inconceivable this whole thing is. To be able to experience such luxury while the world around you seems to be spiralling out of control sure makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. And everything was made possible thanks to your wonderful lover, the man who is always willing to give you everything to make your wishes come true.

Yoongi always goes far and beyond to spoil you. Whether it is by giving you something as lavish as flying you off with this private plane to a luxurious spa resort on a tropical island somewhere across the ocean to give you both a break from the hectic city life, or pampering you by doing something as simple as what he is doing to you now. He has your legs resting on his lap while he is giving them his full attention. His deft fingertips are pressing against your pressure points, starting from the soles of your feet and up to your calves, easing the knots in your muscles that you gained through the frantic hours leading to this flight.

And he always takes pleasure in doing things like this, gaining his own happiness by making you happy. You obviously don’t mind it at all, since you know that he always has his ways to show you how to make it up to him once you are in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

Speaking of which—

You enjoy the view as you lean back in your seat. Not at the view of the sky that you can clearly see outside the window, but at the handsome and talented man that you have the privilege to call as your fiancé. You watch Yoongi as he continues with his task, concentrating deeply while he is taking care of you and while being blissfuly unaware of the attention that you are giving him.

Whenever you are together with him, everything feels right again. The calm and serene moment that you share together has always become your source of healing, a feeling that seems entirely evident right this moment, after being deprived of his love and affection and his whole presence as a whole for months.

But there is something else that keeps nagging you from the back of your mind. A gut feeling that keeps reminding you to be cautious the moment you are alone with Yoongi, causing your body to be vibrating with anticipation since the start of the flight. Not even the mental exhaustion that you have been feeling is enough to suppress it.

It would be hard to ignore it, knowing that Yoongi is a man who is capable of turning every single moment you share together into a risqué affair. Even a simple kiss would eventually lead to something else once Yoongi puts his mind into it.

From the moment the plane took off, you had half expected that he would start something just to take your mind off of all the troubles that had been haunting you. And it would have been easy for him to start something within the long flight and with this much private space available for him to make use of. Yet he blindsided you by remaining calm throughout the flight and choosing not to initiate anything.

Except for the harmless offer he made to tend your strained feet and give you a comforting massage so you can enjoy yourself.

Sighing deeply, you briefly close your eyes to allow yourself to bask in the serene feeling and try not to think of anything else. You raise your glass and take a slow sip of your drink to find some peace of mind, only to grimace as the champagne fizzles in your mouth.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Yoongi says, making you look at him questioningly, before you realise that he must have caught you wincing and may have thought that he had been the one who caused it. The work of his hands comes to a sudden halt, though his fingers remain hovering on your skin, refusing to completely lose contact with your body.

Yoongi looks genuinely concerned that you can only smile and shake your head at him.

“No, it’s not that, really,” you answer him with a content sigh. As you try to move and twist your foot, you realise that his hands have done magic to your body while your mind has been preoccupied with unnecessary things. Your muscles have grown more lax, with all the tension that you felt fading under his touch. “You have magic hands, I swear. I feel better thanks to you, and you really didn’t have to, it wasn’t hurting me that bad.”

Another note to remember, you wonder to yourself as you twist your ankle on Yoongi’s lap. Never wear a pair of high heels when you are in a hurry to catch a flight.

Especially not when you had to deal with a bunch of catastrophe getting in the way as you were heading towards your departure. From the small troubles rising before the flight—involving the flying permit and your travel visa—to the emergency situation at Yoongi’s workplace that came at the last minute. Then you had to deal with the long traffic jam on your way to the airport, and nearly forgetting to retrieve your luggage from Yoongi’s car trunk right before departing.

With all of that drama already draining you, running across the airport in your high heels and almost spraining your ankles had only added the mental strain that had been weighing down on you. Much to your luck—or lack there of—as the unpleasant memories are coming back to you again after spending hours of trying to forget about them, you can feel the strain growing inside you again, negating all of Yoongi’s effort to rid of them for good.

With another shake of your head, you take another drink of your champagne, hoping that the taste and the frizz would be enough to wash it all away.

Oblivious to your mulling, Yoongi merely smiles and proceeds to rub his thumbs across your ankle. Right at the source of your pain.

“You’re right. I may not have to, but I wanted to. You know that I would never deny a chance to touch and take care of your pretty feet,” he says, causing your heart to make a funny leap with that smile of his, while a soft giggle threatens to escape with his admission about his odd fascination on your feet.

He often jokes about it whenever the two of you are alone, and you cannot imagine what people would possibly think if they should ever hear him say something like this. But with how many times he brings it up as an inside joke, sometimes you just cannot help but wonder if Yoongi truly means it. That the reason why he would always take his time caring for your tired feet any chance he gets actually has something to do with his secret obsession with this part of your body.

“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you? I thought I saw you wince earlier,” Yoongi asks you again while he calmly continues pressing his thumbs up your calves, while you just have to bite back a smile.

You were right, after all, about him catching you wincing earlier. Though you shouldn’t be surprised about it. Because Yoongi has always been quite observant of your moods, even since the beginning of your relationship. It would only take one look at you or a light touch on your skin for Yoongi to easily tell what is going through your mind and what you are feeling.

And he would often make use of this ability, not only on your day to day lives, but also in the bedroom, when he takes control and claims his rewards after all the things that he has done to spoil and tenderly take care of you during the day.

Drawn back to your dark thoughts, you whole body grows warm. Your skin begins to tingle right where he is touching you. As your anticipation returns, the sensation you feel from his touch grows rapidly, spreading through your body and making you feel like you need to cool off so badly.

“It’s nothing like that, really,” you answer Yoongi while resisting the urge to down your drink. “I’m still feeling lightheaded after all that running around and dealing with the drama we got before leaving, that’s all.”

With a small smile, Yoongi glances at your nearly finished drink and gently lowers your legs. “Hmm, if the champagne isn’t working, then should we order something else to make you feel better? I already asked them in advance for some of your favourite meal and desserts and I also got them to prepare a bottle of your favourite wine,” he teases you with a proud wink.

Your heart leaps a beat. “You—you did that for me?” you asks him, astounded at how in tune he is with your moods and needs before you can even express them.

Yoongi responds by taking your hand in his and whispers, “Anything to please my kitten.” His endearment draws a warm flush through your cheeks, and it elevates further when he continues to speak. “After all,” he murmurs softly as he brushes his lips against the back of your hand, “you’re probably going to need all the extra energy that you can get once we’ve arrived at the resort.”

If anyone else would have heard him just now, they probably wouldn’t be able to catch the hidden implications in his words and would simply think of it as his way to sincerely express his concern over your wellbeing. But you quickly recognise the undertone that is hidden in his words, as you have been anticipating this side of his to finally come out.

The unmistakable twinkle you see in his eyes speaks of his intention even louder. It brings you back to the nights filled with his wicked little games, and those sinful moments where he would take you to a blissful place filled with pleasure.

A surging heat rises in your core as your mind travels back to those nights. Then it emerges through a soft gasp as Yoongi presses a kiss on your palm. “Will it be the right time to once again try and convince you to put aside our clothes while we are within the confinement of our private cabin?”

While your face heats up to his indecent offer, you can barely resist the urge to smile and let out a baffled laugh. “I was wondering when you were going to bring it up again,” you say to him. Because this isn’t the first time that he is suggesting this. Ever since it was confirmed that he was renting a private cabin in the resort where you will be staying at, Yoongi had immediately suggested to do away with the clothes while staying in the cabin.

“The cabin is located at a secluded section on the island, so nobody would see us anyway. Imagine all the fun that we can have without having to tear out our clothes beforehand,” was what he has often said each time he brought up the idea. And he always managed to make your cheeks burn when you tried to picture spending the time lounging in the private cabin while in the nude.

Now, however, as you are merely hours away from arriving at your destination, you start feeling more intrigued at the idea, leaving your body growing aroused instead of feeling apprehensive about it. Even when you cannot possibly imagine what may happen the moment you are alone with him and with every piece of clothing set aside.

With Yoongi, anything is possible.

And you always love his sweet yet saucy surprises. This time, however, you have nothing to worry about when you think of what he might have planned, because you have your own wild card to use on him. A little surprise that you have prepared to make this whole trip more pleasurable for both of you.

“You know what—?” You can barely contain yourself just as you are thinking about your own secret plan, yet you manage to feign a semblance of innocence when you share your thoughts with him.

“Since I’ll be making us both discard our clothes for the treatments at the spa once we get there,” you begin, referring and hinting at the spa treatment that you have booked at the resort for this weekend trip after he had the rest of the trip arranged, “I guess I don’t see why we can’t do the same while we’re at the cabin. Let’s try it and see what happens.”

Oblivious to your indecent intention, Yoongi seems pleased to hear this.

With a soft chuckle, Yoongi lifts your hand to his lips again and kisses your skin. “Wonderful,” he gently says. There is a familiar slow drag in his deep voice which tells you that he is already working out a plan to make this weekend unforgettable for the two of you, not knowing that you are doing just about the same thing at the same time. “I’m going to make sure that you won’t regret it.”

“Having any regrets yet?”

In your eyes, Yoongi has an afterglow coming out of him. One that is undeniably deserving of him to have after the blissful release that you just shared.

The gentle voice that comes from him when he is asking you this, along with the warm gaze he is giving you and the gentle touch of his fingers on your wrists, are all in complete contrast to how he acted merely moments ago.

Looking closely at your wrists, right at the spot that he is now rubbing against, you can see some indistinct marks that are visible yet growing fainter now that your blood are flowing smoothly underneath your skin as they are being soothed by his touch. Each pulse of your blood feels warm, while in place of the straining exhaustion that you felt during the flight, a soft humming of pleasure is surging through your body.

“Hmm—” you hum softly at the comforting touch that he is giving you and the waning pulses of pleasure that still remain within you, causing Yoongi to let out a light chuckle.

“Talk to me, kitten,” he murmurs as he brings one wrist to his lips and presses a kiss on it. “I need to know if I hurt you or if I’ve been too rough. I couldn’t help myself. After spending an entire day not touching you, the moment I got to touch your skin, I kept wanting more”—he presses another kiss and groans—”and more.”

His words fade into another deep groan, as if the moment he closes his eyes, he is seeing himself making love to you all over again, doing all the sinful things which had led you to be in this position.

A mixture of pain and pleasure and a deep feeling of content rushes through you as you lean against his chest, bringing you back to the mind-blowing pleasure that he had just given you.

Looking back to it now, you realise that you cannot truly blame Yoongi for letting go of any reservations once he was given the chance to.

It was well in the afternoon when the private jet landed on the island. You were immediately welcomed by the warm sun and the fresh, comforting breeze that felt nothing like the stale and polluted air you had back in your home city. Yet you couldn’t really embrace it all when your mind was occupied with something else at that moment.

After Yoongi shared the idea of stripping down once he got you alone, you had expected that he would be taking you straight to the cabin to make it happen. That thought had led you to spend the entire car ride from the airport anticipating it, only for Yoongi to once again blindside you, deviating from the plan by instructing the driver to head towards the local marketplace on the other side of the island instead.

You questioned his decision at first, before realising too late that it was all a part of his wicked game. That he wanted to make you forget for a moment about his illicit intention while making you wait until he would start touching you again.

And his plan easily worked.

The moment you arrived at the marketplace, you became completely entranced by your surroundings and any thought of Yoongi’s indecent plan flew out of your thoughts. With all the colourful trinkets, handmade accessories and art-pieces, and traditional-made fabrics in vibrant colours capturing your eyes, it was easy to get lost in the moment. Even Yoongi was enjoying himself as he gladly splurged through the market just to please you, spoiling you with gifts and souvenirs.

His surprise continued with a short walk down the beach, where you enjoyed having your feet sinking into the wet sand and the waves hitting your ankles while you were playing chase with your fiancé. Then he led you to the fancy restaurant by the beach side where you had your early dinner. Accompanied by the view of the sunset and the gorgeous view of the ocean around you, and the man who was there to give you his full attention, you finally managed to find the sense of calm that you had been searching for.

Once he realised that you have completely forgotten about his perverse scheme, that was when Yoongi finally put everything into play. It wasn’t until the moment you walked past the threshold of your private cabin when you first realised just how far ahead Yoongi had planned the entire thing, once you failed to find your luggage right where they were supposed to be.

“Remember what we talked about? Strip down and wait for me in the bedroom,” Yoongi gently instructed you when he noticed your reaction. “You’ll have them back when I say you can. For now, I want this thing off of you—” he said as he tugged at your summer dress, “and to see you on your knees on the bedroom floor.”

Just like that, things heated up and escalated into a lot more. Right from the moment he found you kneeling on the bedroom floor, waiting for him without an inch of your skin covered before taking him deep in your throat.

And things didn’t end there. As he took you to the living room where he continued pleasuring you in the most intimate of ways while playing his indecent games, taking you in all position on top of the myriad of furnitures that he could make use of. And then, right when you thought he was about to take a break late midnight, he once again took control of you, bending you over the kitchen counter after he found you making drinks while in the nude, accusing you of purposely teasing him with a sway of your hips while he took you from behind.

The night continued on to near dawn, as if time moved so slowly until the moment he took you back into the bedroom, where he tied your hands and ankles to the bedposts, keeping you restrained while he gave you an otherworldly pleasure that is still humming through your entire body which seems to be taking its sweet time to come down.

“No, I have no regrets,” you answer him with a voice that sounds unintentionally airy and hoarse. You can feel a moan threatening to slip out of you as you stretch out on the messy bed, giving both your body and mind a bit of reprieve as you lean against his bare chest.

A content sigh slips out of your lips. This is how it is supposed to be, you wonder to yourself as you close your eyes and revel in his warmth, once you no longer feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.

This is why being with him and submitting your pleasure to him feels so intoxicating. Because giving up control of your pleasure into his hands has always been the way to help you cope with all the hard times that you have to endure in real life.

You shift in the bed to adjust yourself against him, and the warm flutters of your continuous orgasms are not the only thing that you can feel as you gently rock your hips. When the remnants of his release and yours begin to drip out of your worn-out core, a small amount of them left behind even after he did his work to clean you up after.

Watching this, you can only count your blessings. Not only for all the blissful pleasure that you have been given through this trip, but also for remembering to take your depo shot on time before the trip. Because now you get to enjoy your trip and any intimate moments shared with him to your heart’s content without having to worry about anything.

“Yeah, absolutely no regrets,” you hum softly while resting your head on his shoulder, drawing a chuckle out of him even without him knowing where your mind is wandering off to.

“How are you feeling now, kitten? Are you feeling any better now?”

Laughing softly, you hum against his chest before pulling away. “Much better, thanks to you,” you whisper to him, earning a soft peck on your lips which brings the gentle flutters in your chest back up. “It would be enough to help me sleep, that’s for sure. I’m just hoping that I won’t fall asleep right in the middle of the spa treatment with only a little time left to sleep.”

“Ah yes, the spa treatment,” he says with a smile, though the sarcastic tone in his voice is not too hard to notice. “Are you ever going to tell me more about it, or are you planning to keep your little secret to yourself until the last minute?”

Your eyes grow wide at his question. You cannot help but laugh and feeling embarrassed for being caught. “So you noticed, hmm?” you ask him, only for him to scoff at you. “I was planning to surprise you once we’re at the spa, but since you’ve been such an amazing lover through this trip so far—”

You sit up and turn to face him as you finally spill your little secret. “Do you remember back when we watched that amusing wrestling match during one of our trips?” Yoongi merely raise his eyebrows in a silent question instead of answering you, so you continue, “you know, the one involving mud? The one that we later said it was hot while being messy at the same time and wondered how it must have felt like being covered in all that mud?”

A deep, knowing look manifests through his gaze when he finally starts to comprehend where this is going. Biting back a smile, you continue by questioning him, “Guess what this spa resort is most famous for?”

Yoongi sighs. “Let me guess, it’s not for their private cabins and the clear white sand on their open beach.”

“Nope,” you tease him, shaking your head as he refers to the resort’s main selling point which made him choose this island to spend your weekend getaway, while you let him know the reason why you insisted to book a spa treatment while you are here once you found out more about this resort. “They’re famous for using scientifically processed volcanic mud for their healing therapy and spa treatments.”

Yoongi blinks. “Why do I have a feeling that we’re not just talking about using the mud for facial masks?”

“Well, I mean,” you shrug, “they do have that kind of treatment too, but we could’ve gotten them at the spa that I regularly go to back home.” You briefly come to a pause for dramatic purpose, making him wait before you reveal to him, “but that’s not what I’ve booked for us on this trip.”

“Us?” he asks you with a grin. “Then what are we going to do with that mud, kitten?”

You shift closer, unable to contain your excitement. “We’re going to bathe in it. We’ll soak our tired and battered bodies into the mud to get rid of all the toxins and to loosen our muscles up before we have to go back to work once the weekend is over.”

Yoongi let out an incredulous laugh. “So—we’re going to have a mud bath?”

You nod.

“Together?”

You shrug. “I believe I did book us both a couples’ treatment package for the mud bath, so we’re in this together.”

Hearing this, Yoongi looks a bit dubious at best. Yet despite his reluctance, you know that he isn’t going to say no to this. “It sounds…interesting,” he finally says after pondering about it for a while.

“It is interesting. I know it will be. It’ll be a new experience for both of us, and I know that it’s going to be fun. They said it’ll help us bond as a couple when we do it together,” you continue selling the idea out, loving how Yoongi seems to slowly grow curious about it more than he is hesitant about it.

“Bond as a couple, hmm? Would it be more helpful compared to what we just did earlier?” he teases you while wiggling his eyebrows, causing your cheeks to heat up.

“Close enough, maybe,” you merely say to him, because both of you know that what you do in the bedroom together is already more than enough to strengthen the bond that you have created between the two of you. “But it’ll give us something to remember. And you promised to try new things with me whenever we have the chance to while we’re traveling together. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“Alright, since we’re already here, and since you’ve been listening to me nicely since we got here,” he says while feigning a defeated sigh. “I suppose it’s my turn to take your word for it.”

“That’s great. Oh, I can’t wait. This is going to be a lot of fun,” you express your relief as you kiss his lips, feeling hopeful about the upcoming new experience, while remaining oblivious to what Yoongi is secretly planning for you as a payback for your little surprise as he embraces you to sleep.

“Welcome to Pure Bliss Spa and Resort.”

You have been feeling both excited and anxious the entire morning that you were almost shaking when you walked into the main establishment of the spa resort. The building itself is located not too far from where your rented cabin is. Just a bit deeper into the island and right on top of the hillside overlooking the spread of wide ocean.

There was still a bit of a drive to get here, which allowed you to enjoy the sights around you even more—such as the private beach attached to the spa establishment which you haven’t had time to visit yet.

From outside, the building looks quite glamorous as a private retreat. With a facade built out of natural stone blocks and strong column structures holding up its massive canopy, the establishment appears to you as if it is blending nicely into the hills surrounding it.

A different kind of vibe welcomed you as you entered the building, when you were met with one of the cosiest space that you have ever been to. Through the warm-coloured wood materials on the floors and furnitures, and the ivory and beige colours covering the floor, loveseats, and the walls around you, this place gives you a homy feeling that fills your chest with a sense of comfort even before you get to experience the healing treatments that they are offering you.

It makes you feel as if you are walking into a warm embrace. Giving you some reassurance that it was the right idea to come to this place for a quick healing in this weekend getaway.

You take a quick glance at Yoongi before responding to the receptionist welcoming you at the front desk. You have half expected to see him somewhat resigned to what you were dragging him here for, yet the clear and warm gaze he is giving you in return is telling you differently. Perhaps your excitement over the upcoming spa treatment is already growing on him, and it is making you feel even more thrilled about this retreat more than ever.

“Hello,” you greet the receptionist with a smile, “we’ve already booked us the couples’ special package treatment for today. I believe it was made under my name.”

“Of course, may I have your reservation details?” With a nod, you give her everything that she needs to confirm the reservations that you made months ago. It takes less than five minutes for her to find all the details needed in her computer. “It is stated here that you have booked our couples package with the volcanic mud bath therapy and the couples full body rock massage. Is that correct?”

Again, you nod while trying your best to contain your eagerness. Relief washes over you as the receptionist clears everything out for you and says, “Your appointment has been confirmed, and the preparation for your private sessions is already set to go. Until then, you can wait in our guest lounge where you can enjoy our welcome drinks and snacks. Here are the keys to your lockers where you can place your personal belongings and retrieve the necessities that you will need for your therapy sessions. One of our staff will come to assist you and help you get ready for your mud bath session once everything is set up and ready for you.”

After expressing your gratitude to the receptionist, you turn to Yoongi again to gauge his reaction. He seems pretty calm for someone who was caught off guard by your surprise plan. Though he didn’t seem too thrilled at the idea of soaking in a tub full of mud when you first brought it up, but there is not a sign of displeasure coming out of him while he is listening attentively to the receptionist as she continues to explain more about the mud bath therapy, before finally sending you off to the guest lounge where you can wait for your sessions to start.

A female attendant comes to fetch you and Yoongi at the lounge only a short while later. After showing you the locker rooms—where you are able to secure your personal belongings and change into the bath robe that they provided for you—she takes you through the establishment while guiding you through the next steps before your treatment.

Through the short tour that she is giving you, you get to see the area where the massage rooms are located, and even get to take a quick peek at one of the vacant rooms which may be available for you to use later after the bath. You also get to see various other therapy rooms along the way, enticing you to one day try and experience them if you ever have the chance to.

Once you enter the baths section, you walk past the jacuzzi and sauna, and you are quite amused to see an indoor swimming pool that they provide for their water therapy sessions. Soon enough, you are heading towards the area where the rooms for the mud baths. Your anticipation grows when the attendant turns to you and asks, “Are we ready to head straight to the main course of your treatment?”

“Yes, absolutely,” you quickly answer, as you can no longer contain your eagerness. You slip your arm around Yoongi’s, and his lips curl up to a small smile as he looks you.

The attendant leads the two of you through the hallway that feels slightly warmer and the air much denser compared to the previous areas. It continues until the end of the hallway which parts into two separate lanes, with singular doors occupying each of them.

“We have provided separate rooms for our mud bath treatment to give more privacy,” the attendant explains as she shows you through the private section for the bath. “As you can see here, we have two types of rooms which our guests can choose—one with the separate, singular tubs, and the other with the joint tub that couples are usually more interested to try on. According to the booking details, I believe the couples package is the one you booked for today’s treatment, is that correct?”

“Oh, yes,” you answer her with a smile. “It would be the first time for both of us to experience this, and I think my fiancé is a bit nervous about it,” you claim with a flicker of a glance at Yoongi who is looking at you with raised eyebrows, “so we thought that choosing the couples package would help us feel more comfortable as we’re trying it together.”

“That’s a brilliant choice,” the attendant says, nodding her head. “Couples who came to us without prior experience to this kind of treatment have always chosen to use the joint tub to make it less awkward for them. We also believe that it would give you a wonderful chance to have a special bonding time with your partner.” She winks at you as she says this. “Let me show you where you are going to have your bath.”

With your hand holding tightly on Yoongi’s cold one, you both follow the attendant as she walks into one of the rooms. It is a medium sized room with a stone tub right in the center of it which has been filled with an overflowing amount of smooth, creamy, grey mud. The tub is probably not that much bigger compared to a queen-sized bed, but it does seem to fit two person to lie inside it and have a long dip without feeling crowded.

Just like the hallway outside, the room feels warm, but a bit more comfortable than the stuffy hall in which you walked through to get here. There is a subtle scent of lavender wafting in the air around you, which is probably what makes it feel less stuffy and more cozy as you step into the room.

On either side of the tub, you see two long console tables made of dark-coloured hardwood. Each one of them holds an array of small candles, all having been lighted up with flames flickering against the flowing breeze, and ceramic plates holding up burning incenses that may have been the source of the delightful scent of lavender that you are breathing in. The lighting in the room itself is kept dimly-lit, yet the candles help illuminate the room without over saturating the interiors, making it seem calming and relaxing instead of giving you a gloomy sense of space.

“This is one of our couples-only mud rooms which had been reserved specially for your treatment,” the attendant says, stepping aside so you can have a good look at the entire room as you walk deeper into the center of the room with your hands entwined to Yoongi’s.

You follow your fiancé’s gaze as he silently observes the filled tub, and the attendant continues to explain, as if noticing where Yoongi’s attention is being drawn towards. “As you can see, we have prepared for you our special mud with the right temperature that would be comfortable for your first try. We only use the highest quality volcanic mud for our baths, taken from the local natural resource and processed exclusively for our bath therapy. As you may have read in our website, this mud acts as a detoxifier, with muscle relaxation and skin cleansing agent that will be activated under the perfect temperature. Rest assure, that we always replace the mud with fresh ones after each use and we have prepared freshly processed mud for your treatment today.”

Hearing this seems to ease Yoongi’s mind a little more as he no longer seems as tense as he was before. The attendant smiles, obviously noticing this change in Yoongi’s mood and the astonished look on your face.

“The recommended time for the bath is usually between twenty to thirty minutes, but you are free to end the bath sooner if you are feeling too uncomfortable under the heat. And you need to remember that you’ll have to step out of the bath before the heat starts to cool down, because then all the healing agents will no longer be active and the mud will harden on your skin. The lights above the door will turn on once the thirty minutes count is up and there will also be the sound of the bell to notify you in case you fall asleep or loose track of time—which often happens when a guest feels too comfortable under the warm mud,” she continues, pointing at the row of small lamps above the door, making sure that you would be able to notice them once they are lighted up.

“Once you step out of the bath, you can proceed to the adjacent shower room where you can wash off the remaining mud on your skin. From there, you can press the bell or contact any staff through the intercom and someone will come to assist you and show you where to go for your next treatment. Do you have any further question?”

You turn to Yoongi, who still seems a bit doubtful, trying to see if he has anything to inquire from the attendant to answer some of the curiosity that you can still clearly see on his face. Yet he keeps his silence, so you figure that there is nothing more for either of you to say. “I think we’re good for now. All we have to do next is dip straight in, right?”

“That’s right,” the attendant nods. “Just soak in the mud like you would in a hot tub, and let the mud do all the magic. If you have no further question, then I’ll take my leave and let you enjoy the bath. There are fresh towels and bath robes that you can put on either after the mud bath or once you’ve stepped out of the shower. A staff will come if you ever need any help. Just press the button on the intercom and we’ll keep in touch with you for further assistance.”

Once she is done showing you everything that you may need during your bath, you thank the attendant for her service and guidance, and she gracefully exits the room to give you all the privacy that you need. Just as the silence settles in between you, the excitement to start the bath grows on you while Yoongi appears to be completely fixated on the tub full of mud.

“Well, this is—” he begins to say, and you chime in to finish his words,

“Exciting?” you tease him, earning a light scoff from him in response.

“Nerve-racking would probably be a more fitting way to describe it,” he says with a grin, though it is quite obvious that he has grown more intrigued by the sight of the bubbling mud before you now that he is seeing it for himself.

With a soft giggle, you cling to his arm and tease him a little to help him ease up a bit more. “Oh, come on. This looks fun. You said you wanted to experience this with me.”

Sighing, Yoongi looks over to the tub again and says, “I have to admit, I was expecting to see a pile of nasty mud when I first heard about this. Anything that would be—unhealthy.”

You tilt your head at him. “And now that you’re seeing it?”

Yoongi takes one last look at the tub, squinting his eyes as he catches the sight of the small bubbles appearing on the surface and says, “It still looks nasty.”

This time, you cannot help but laugh. “You heard what our guide said earlier, didn’t you? She said that it’s supposed to be good for your skin and body.”

Yoongi gives you another scoff, though the dubious look he has been giving you slowly shifts into mischief when he sarcastically says, “That’s just her way of selling it to make sure that you’ll come back for more.”

You can only shake your head at his comment and smile. “Well, you know that I’m already sold. We wouldn’t be here today in the first place if I hadn’t been,” you say to him, referring to when you first learned about the mud bath treatment while you were searching through the internet to know more about the resort.

“Fine, let’s see if all that hype about this ‘healing factors’ from the mud is more than false advertisement,” he says as he presses a kiss on the tip of your nose.

Yoongi walks over to the stone tub right after. Staring at the grey mess in the tub, he gets a bit closer so he can observe it further. He leans forward, his face hovering above the surface to feel the heat on his skin.

The surface of the mud looks to be steaming, confirming everything that the attendant had told you about how they were keeping it warm while preparing this mud bath for you. You feel wary about the heat at first, before reminding yourself that the healing factors from the mud will only be activated under the perfect temperature.

Curious, you walk closer to the other side of the tub and dip your finger into the mud. It does feel warm, almost similar to the temperature that you would normally prefer for your hot bath to soothe your tensed muscles. The mud feels just a bit slimier than what you had expected it to be as you pull out your stained finger and mesh it with your thumb.

Yoongi keeps his eyes on you the entire time you are feeling up the texture. “That looks,” he murmurs while frowning at the sight of it, “a bit gross.”

“Oh, come on. Just get in. It’ll be fine, I promise,” you say to him as you straighten back up.

Without waiting for him to respond, you start to peel the robe off of your body, making quite a show on it as you strip down right in front of his eyes. Yoongi never looks away from you, and you can clearly see his sharp gaze darkening at the sight of your bare skin. Tossing the robe away, you carefully begin to step into the tub, gasping slightly at the first touch as you slowly dip your toe into the mud. “Oh, my—”

“Be careful,” Yoongi says as he rushes to your side. Gently placing one hand on your bare waist while holding out the other so you can have something to hold on to, Yoongi helps you to get into the tub and stays by your side as you adjust yourself in it. He continues watching you closely until you are settled nicely on the bottom of the tub, submerging your whole body into the mud right up to your neck.

“How does it feel?” he curiously asks you as you close your eyes briefly to enjoy the new sensation that is now engulfing you.

You open your mouth to answer him, only for your voice to come out in a soft hum.

After you are settled down in it, you find that the texture of the mud is quite—interesting. It is slick and heavy, and its warmth seems to be pressing against your skin, giving you soft massages which slowly help ease all the tension in your body.

“It feels warm and relaxing. I can feel every tension in my muscles melting away,” you finally answer Yoongi with a hum as you lean back, resting your back against the back of the tub and finding comfort instead of feeling like you are being pressed down by the weight of the mud.

“You’re starting to sound exactly like the staff earlier,” Yoongi claims with a grumble, though you cannot miss the undertone laughter in his voice, as if he is amused to watch you enjoying yourself and finding some delight in being submerged into something that seems so—dirty.

The expression that he is making makes you laugh, but you cool yourself down and straighten your back as you coax him to join you. “Come on, you have to come in and join me to know what it’s really like.”

Yoongi frowns. “It doesn’t feel gross at all?” His lips turn down as he asks you this, but you barely notice it when you have been completely drawn to the mud, feeling amazed by how it feels on your skin.

“No, it feels more like—” you answer as you slide your hands back and forth, feeling the weight of the substance against your fingers and your whole body as you shift deeper to relax. “Being weighed under a warm blanket. It’s not gross, I promise. A bit weird and new, but nothing that would make you feel icky.”

Yoongi shakes his head and chuckles when he notices how entranced you seem to be. “Fine, if you say so,” he calmly says, despite still looking a bit unsure about all of this.

Yet he still walks back to his side of the tub and carefully takes his robe off, getting ready to dive in. You keep your eyes on him the entire time, shamelessly watching him as he strips himself down until he is completely bare. He looks up just as you are perusing his body with your gaze, drawing a grin to his face.

“You seem to enjoy what you’re seeing right now,” he teases. A bit more of his apprehensiveness fading now that he has his focus on you. Seeing that you are able to distract him from his discomfort, you continue eyeing him, humming as you openly appreciate what you are seeing.

“I do, actually,” you answer him with a hum, which makes him shake his head as he completely discards his robe. “Maybe I’m just picturing you being covered in this beautiful mud.”

Yoongi chuckles, and you are pleasantly surprised to see that your comment has somehow eased him up further. His smile only falters when he finally moves, carefully stepping into the tub with his left foot and slightly wincing when his skin makes contact with the slick mud. Once he steps his other foot in, he is no longer wincing at it, though he still appears quite uneasy about getting in. Yet he still lowers himself into the mud, allowing it to cover his entire body as he settles down right beside you.

You wait until he relaxes with a sigh before commenting, “There you go. How is it?”

His eyebrows are furrowed for a brief moment. “Tolerable, I suppose,” he says with a hum. “You were right about it being like a weighed blanket. This stuff is heavy on the body, and a bit—thick.”

The way he says the latter—as the word seems to be filled with disapproval, while at the same time, sounds as if he is amused—makes you laugh. “Yes, it actually does,” you admit as you continue moving your hands around, staying close to the surface as you try to gauge the thickness and the texture against your skin.

Lifting your hands up requires quite an effort. The way your fingers emerge from the surface while being covered by the mud seems like such an amusing sight. Curious, you raise your hand up and smear a thin layer of mud on your cheek. Unsurprisingly, it feels soothing on your skin, so you add a bit more onto the other side to make yourself a facial mask out of the mud. Your action draws Yoongi’s curiosity as he watches you playing around with the substance.

“What are you doing?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested that an idea sparks in your head.

“Putting on a face mask,” you tell him as you dip your hand back into the mud, gathering some of them on your fingers while offering him, “want to try it?”

“Why would you—hey!” he protests as you smear a small amount of mud on his cheek. He tries to wipe it off, only to add some more mud on his face as he brushes his mud-covered fingers on his skin. Confused and bewildered, he looks down on his hands before rubbing his face again, making more mess on his face when instead of wiping off the mud, he only adds more to it. “What the—” he laughs incredulously.

“It’s fine. I’m telling you, it’s a face mask. Other spas often use mud for their facial mask treatments, so I figured, since we have a whole bath tub of it, why not put some on so we can have extra facial therapy?” you try to reason with Yoongi while holding back from laughing when you see the dubious look on his face returning tenfold.

“Hmm, is that so?” he teases you back, making you wonder what he is up to when he dips his hand into the mud and subtly shifts closer. The sly smirk you see growing on his face certainly has his bad intention written all over it. “Then, since we have all of this mud to use, why don’t we make use of the rest while we have the chance?”

Before you can figure out what he means by it, Yoongi slips his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, all while he carefully begins dipping your entire body backwards into the mud.

“No!,” you scream out while laughing nonstop, causing all effort to stop him seem fruitless. Yet Yoongi doesn’t stop, though he isn’t going as far as actually submerging you completely into the mud. The moment you feel the mud touching your hair and coating the back of your neck, and once your breath is heavy from the weight of the mud pressing down your chest and the thrill of being submerged completely in it, he pulls you back up and helps you sit back against the edge of the tub.

“Did I scare you, kitten?” he whispers against your earlobe, causing your entire body to shiver. Your breath is still ragged and your heart is still beating rapidly after his evil prank. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath, and once you are calmed, you splash a handful of mud at him to retaliate.

“You’re so bad,” you playfully scold him as he draws back to avoid your attacks while laughing.

“Sorry, kitten. I couldn’t help myself,” he says to you, kissing the tip of your nose and flicking at it, smearing more mud to your face. “You’re just so irresistible. And you did say that you wanted to try everything.”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes and try to wipe off the mud from your nose and some that had gotten around your ears and your temple. “Now sit back and behave. We’re supposed to be enjoying the bath and have some healing, not play around like this and make a mess,” you playfully scold him, pointing at the mess on the floor around the tub which he created to distract both him and yourself from the odd trembling that your body is experiencing after his playful stunt.

As if the thought of being under the mud, being made to feel helpless and finding trouble to breathe actually excites you in ways that you cannot understand.

“Okay. Whatever you say, kitten,” Yoongi complies easily, something that should be making you wary. But as he settles back into position with his back resting against the side of the tub and his body mostly submerged in the mud, you decide that it would be best to join him and try to relax, allowing the mud to take effect on your body.

You shift back in place, trying to regain the comfortable position that you had earlier as you settle down right beside Yoongi. Moments later, you begin to feel the effect of the mud on your body which is quite unexpected. You try to move your hands under the mud as you shift back, and immediately notice that not only do you feel like you are being weighed down by the thickness of the mud, you also feel as if you are being restrained by it.

“Huh, interesting.”

Yoongi has been sloshing around underneath the surface of the mud, moving his hands around to test out the thickness of the mud to feed his own curiosity instead of embracing it. But your comment makes him stop and turn to look at you.

“What is it?”

You give him no answer and feel around a bit more. “Hmm, it feels a bit hard to move once my hands are lowered deeper into the mud. As if—” you stop to try again, trying to show him what you are trying to say, only to find that it is becoming impossible to move your hand further up, even when the surface of the mud starts to ripple around you. “It feels like it is holding my hands down so I can’t really move them as easily as before.”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “Are you saying that it makes you feel like you’re being tied down? Is that it?”

“Yeah, that seems to be the case. Or maybe because what you did earlier loosened my muscles so much that my whole body feels lax now under the mud,” you answer him almost distractedly, as you are paying close attention to the sensations that you are beginning to feel all over your body.

With your lack of experience of being in a mud bath before, you are feeling hypersensitive to every single sensation that the mud is giving you. The warmth that you feel massaging your nerves and the weight that is pressing down on your body are beginning to feel real good.

And not just in a relaxing kind of way.

While Yoongi continues moving his hands and legs around, allowing you to feel all the more restrained when you are unable to do the same with your own hands that had sunk too deep under the mud, you become more sensitive to how the mud is moving between your legs as you stretch them forward and slowly part them open.

All of a sudden, your mind begins drifting towards all the more inappropriate things that you should ever be thinking about while being in a public bath. Yet with all the sensations that you are now feeling coming to you at once, it is becoming quite impossible for you to ignore it. A gasp nearly escapes you when you try to shift, when adjusting your position in the tub only leads to the mud touching your sensitive spots that are hidden underneath.

“Hmm…you know what? This does feel pretty relaxing, more than I expected it would be,” Yoongi suddenly says, though his voice seems to fade in and out when you are starting to lose yourself in a new kind of need that suddenly comes over you when the mud is starting to press down the area between your parted legs.

“Is it now?” you answer him, though your voice sounds too airy, with your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths when you start feeling like there are invisible fingers pressing against your core. When in reality, there is nothing there but the heat of the soft, silky mud pressing down on you.

Surely enough, Yoongi is quick to sense this change of mood of yours. You can tell—even through your haze—when Yoongi turns his head to look closer at you and his gaze is locked on yours, searching, feeling amused and somewhat intrigued to see how your body seems to be reacting to the mud.

“Are you okay there, kitten?”

“Mm-hm, I’m just—” you sigh deeply with your eyes fluttering close, unable to hold yourself together when the mud moves, brushing against your bare pussy. It takes you another inhale of breath before you can continue to answer him, “I’m okay, really. I’m just enjoying all of this.”

“Is that so?” Yoongi questions you. With your focus on the tingling sensation rising in your body and your eyes barely open to pay attention on your surroundings, you fail to notice it when Yoongi eases his way closer to your side. Until the moment you feel the mud shifts as he brings his whole body weight closer so you can feel his presence, with the new proximity and the subtle touch of his hand on your leg when he is searching for you causing the tingles on your skin to grow more intense.

Just as the anticipation keeps building up, Yoongi finally makes a bold move and slips his hand between your legs.

He starts off by doing it lightly. A gentle tease at the are between your legs with his hand moving right under the mud. He barely makes contact to your skin, yet with the slight slosh of mud as he moves his hand closer, as his fingers are slowly reaching to the source of your heat, it feels like there is an invisible touch brushing against your center. The sensation sends a shudder through your whole body, bringing up a new kind of heat building from within your body.

Once he moves, not only the mud beneath but even the air seems to stir around you. And when his fingers finally find you, a light touch brushing against your folds with a thick slickness that is present between his touch and your hot skin, a spark lights up, your body jolts as a rush of pleasure strikes you so intensely. Though the weight of the mud keeps you still, restraining you under and keeping you from thrashing around.

The pleasure that rushes through you comes in small spasms that begin from the depth of your core, slowly rising as he gives a gentle tease at your clit. The sensation coming from the warm, soft clay being rubbed against your clit and his fingers flickering at your entrance feel absolutely maddening, and you are slowly losing control of yourself.

As the pleasure builds up, rising rapidly through his gentle touch, Yoongi halts every movement and starts moving his hand away.

“Yoongii—” you whine at the loss of his touch, even though you can still feel the shadow of his fingers that remains in the sloshing mud pressing at your hot core, drawing a series of pulsing heat coming from within you.

“Patience,” he whispers, while he touches your inner thigh, brushing lightly in a teasing way which makes you want to push your hips up, fighting against the restraining mud to catch his hand. “How badly do you want this, kitten?”

“I—” your words fade to a gasp when you feel the tips of his fingers returning, hovering close to your center. You cannot see it, but the disrupted mud helps give it away as his fingers are dancing close to your folds, keeping away just an inch to tease you.

“Talk to me, kitten,” he mutters .While he is keeping his voice gentle, you can still sense the firm command that he is giving you, drawing the more submissive part of you to take hold.

“I want it. So badly. Please, Sir, allow me—” A gasp stops you, drawn by the light touch of his finger on your skin when his fingers find your inner thigh. ”Allow me to cum. Please, I beg you.”

“Such a polite kitten,” he praises, making your chest swell with pride which only heightens your sensitivity to his touch. “How could I not reward you when you beg me so sweetly?”

“Yes, Sir. I—”

Whatever it is that you wish to say to him evaporates when his fingers return to you, coming right back to where you want him to be the most. Almost immediately, you feel like you are about to erupt. The minor tremors which had been building before are now increasing rapidly, and there is no stopping it from escalating further when Yoongi abandons his gentle touches and begins doing it more firmly.

Noticing how you are responding to him now, Yoongi decides to take more risk. Using the fingers that have been pressing against your pulsing entrance, he slowly pushes, sticking his finger inside you. He stops once he gets a knuckle in, and already your body shudders, while your walls pulse around his digit. The thought of any possible way there would be mud being pushed into you is brushed aside when your mind is muddled by the mixed sensations given to you from multiple things at once.

Yoongi draws back slightly and pulls his finger back out, using only his thumb to rub circles on your clit and distract you from what he is about to do next. Yet your muscles react before your mind can even process the feeling of his finger returning into your pussy, slowly sliding in between your tight walls, with your hips rising to chase him, denying his escape.

“Yoongi,” you gasp out his name, and he responds only by bringing his finger back to your hot entrance, not just one this time, but two of them, spreading your pussy walls as he slides them inside you deeper. “Oh! Oh, God—!”

There is a dark flame in Yoongi’s eyes as he gives you his full attention. He can easily tell that you are getting closer to the edge. He can even feel it through the spasms coming from your delicate walls that are clenching around his digits as he continues sliding them in and out of you. At the same time, he continues rubbing your clit with his thumb in a rapidly increasing pace, adding a myriad of sensations flowing onto you at once.

As your body begins to react to the heightened pleasure, the mud on the surface of the bath began to move around you, showing the world what is happening beneath the mud. Sliding closer, Yoongi slips his other arm around your back, holding your body up to him and keeping you from thrashing more wildly. His hand reaches your breast, and he begins to palm the soft mound, using the slick mud to easily rub and knead until you are arching against him in response.

It only takes a few more passing seconds, a few more thrusts and rubs, with his fingers finding your hardened nipple to give it a pinch, and you are taken over by the wave of your orgasm, pushing you over the edge that you come so hard that the mud around you ripples wildly, sloshing at the surface despite keeping you locked with nowhere to go. There is no escape, as you are kept restrained under the weight of the mud and within Yoongi’s tight embrace as you are plunged straight into your climax.

Your cries of pleasure are threatening to join all the frenzy happening at the height of your orgasm, but Yoongi is quick to take action. He leans in to capture your lips and drown the sound of your moans before anyone passing by the hallway outside can hear you.

Yoongi keeps his arms around you as your body is taking its sweet time to recover, holding you up against him as he slowly pulls his hand away from your heat. He draws back from the kiss once he feels the shudders in your body subsiding, and your body slumps against him. Your muscles instantly grow lax in the aftermath of your climax and under the warm comfort of the healing mud.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling high from the ‘healing factors’, kitten?” Yoongi teases you as he slowly releases you from his hold, letting you slip back into your previous position in the bath tub.

You open your tired eyes with a light chuckle. “Oh, I’m feeling everything. Thank you very much for your kind assistance.”

Yoongi laughs at your comment. He seems pleased with himself—as he probably should—when he leans into you again, pressing his lips on your temple. It is then when you finally notice the mess that you have left behind on his body—the smeared mud covering nearly half his face that is beginning to dry out, and some that have gotten on his hair. You have no doubt that you are in a bigger mess after everything that he had done, yet you can care less about it, when the only thing that you can feel aside from the drying mud on your face, hair, and neck, is the way your body is humming softly with pleasure. And you can feel it coming from both your climax and quite likely the healing factor that the mud has given you.

Just as things begin to calm down, the lights above the door start flickering, letting you know that the thirty minutes time limit is up.

“Perfect timing,” Yoongi says as he observes the lights and the timer beneath it. “Should we move to the shower to clean ourselves? We need to make sure that we didn’t have any mud getting into your private parts now, do we?”

You wince at the thought of the mud reaching into the most delicate part of your body and immediately agree. “Seems like the mud is cooling down too, so we better get out of here.”

While you are having trouble pushing yourself up with your legs feeling like rubber and your hands still heavy in the cooling mud, Yoongi manages to slip out of the tub with little ease.

“Hang on, I’ll come and get you,” he says as he carefully reaches for the towels.

After cleaning his hands and legs enough to move easier and then slipping into a robe to cover himself, Yoongi walks over to assist you, helping you escape the mud’s possessive grasp and holding you up on your swaying feet.

Your chest swells when you see him coming down on his knees before you. With gentle hands, he helps clean your feet just so you wouldn’t slip on the floor, before helping you with your robe.

You continue to cling onto his arm as you both make your way to the adjacent shower room, following the attendant’s guidance to find it. Stopping right in front of the alluring shower space, Yoongi slips his arm around your waist and sneakily starts undoing your robe.

“Should I help clean you up?” he offers, drawing a soft hum out of you when the thought of him pampering you under the shower seems enticing.

“You want to give me a bath?” you ask him with a soft, tired laugh.

“You know I’d do anything for you, which includes making sure that you are properly cleaned,” he teases you as he slowly strips you out of your robe.

The remaining mud on your skin feels dry, and you want nothing more than to wash them all off to feel refreshed again. And then there are the underlying worries of having mud in places where it isn’t supposed to be. As if he knows what you are thinking, Yoongi coaxes you further by saying, “I was the one who made a mess of you earlier, shouldn’t I be responsible to clean everything away?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you murmur softly as you turn around, pulling his robe so you can strip him out of it. “You do need to take responsibility for all of this mess.” With a single pull, you manage to undo the robe and push it off of his shoulders. Once the stained robe falls to the floor, you take his hands and begin pulling him with you into the shower.

Any plans that you had on taking the lead simply fades when Yoongi grabs you around the waist and kisses you deeply. He keeps you distracted while he turns the shower on, surprising you as the water falls around you.

You gasp into the kiss as the water hits your skin. Your entire body is still sensitive after the previous treatment that the water feels like light massages pressing on your skin. With your eyes closed, you allow your head to fall back and embrace the blissful pleasure coming from the running water. It feels calming and refreshing at the same time, until Yoongi’s hands come to your skin with their gentle touch which brings back the heat in your body.

“Relax, kitten,” Yoongi whispers to you when he feels you flinching at his touch, though you make no move to avoid him. He smiles to you when you open your eyes and says, “Let me take care of you.”

His soothing words help you feel more relaxed to his touch, even if your skin is still so sensitive, and there is a faint humming sensation coming from deep inside your core which becomes even more evident the more he keeps touching you.

“If you insist,” you say to him with a hum. Then you reach up, brushing your fingers through the messy strands of his hair that are stained with drying mud. “But only if you let me do the same and help you clean up too.”

Yoongi chuckles softly. “I’m not going to stop you,” he says, as he begins rubbing the mud stains off of your face. “You know that I always enjoy it when you are touching me.”

With that, you quickly do the same to him, starting from his face, as you rub his skin clean from the mud, before moving to wash his hair using the shampoo that has been provided for you to use.

Things become intense and quickly start heating up as you take turns taking care of each other under the running water. You take pleasure in the way he is tenderly washing your hair just as much as you enjoy doing the same to him. He makes your heart stutter as he traces your face with his lips right after his fingers are done washing away the remaining mud on your face and down to your neck, while you draw soft sighs from him when you do the same, as you clean his face, his jawline, and his neck from all the mud.

Your breath quickens as his hands move lower to find your breasts. He takes his sweet time on your soft mounds, as he lathers a handful of the herbal-scented liquid soap on your flesh and starts rubbing, massaging them with his palms, and then moving to rub your hardened nipples clean until no more mud is left behind. In the wake of his touch, he leaves behind a trail of heat, surging all the way down your body from where he is touching you so intensely.

The water raining down on you from the shower is beginning to grow colder while you are tending one another and washing away what still remains from the mud bath, yet his steady hands are helping you feel warm as he runs them down on your skin, going lower and lower, moving past your hips and not stopping until he gets low enough to reach your thighs.

“Yoongi—” you cry softly as he runs his fingers along the inner side of your thighs. You can only let him as he grips at your thigh and slowly starts lifting one of your legs up, opening yourself to him.

“It’s okay, kitten. I just want to make sure that we have your body thoroughly cleaned,” he murmurs against your lips, before giving you a soft kiss. “I don’t want to miss anything when we’re done here.”

By the time he slips his other hand between your parted legs, you are too delirious to give him a proper response. All that you can give him is a soft sigh as his fingers find your folds. The sounds you are making grow deeper, shifting into a series of gasps and moans as he parts your nether lips and begins rubbing his fingers gently around the sensitive parts of your body.

Starting from your swollen clit, he moves his fingers in circles as he wipes away the slimy mud while coaxing a different kind of moisture to rise in its absence. Then he moves to your slit, rubbing back and forth until he no longer finds any of the slick substance left behind, and he doesn’t stop even when he feels your slick arousal coating all over his digits.

Once he is pleased with the result, Yoongi presses down the tips of his fingers right at your hot entrance. He barely pushes his way in when your pussy reacts with a throb, every pulse that has waned down begins to come back alive under his touch.

You start to sway, barely able to hold your weight with only one leg holding you up as he has a tight grip on the other to keep it lifted. The pleasure that keeps rising is beginning to make your legs quiver beneath you and your mind starts spinning, so you reach up and grab onto his bare shoulders, keeping a tight hold there for leverage.

“Let’s make sure that I didn’t get any of that mess deep inside here as well,” he says, right before he pushes his fingers into your pussy, drawing a low, breathless moan through you when his invading digits are spreading your pulsing walls apart. A wave of pleasure rocks your entire body and you shudder, already coming so close to your climax even before he begins moving his fingers further.

“Is everything alright, kitten?” Yoongi teases you with a playful nip at the side of your neck.

“Yoongi, I—” you gasp softly when his finger start getting deeper. “Oh, fuck!” you gasp before teasing him, “I don’t think that this is what they meant about using this therapy to help us bond.”

Yoongi chuckles softly. “What are you talking about, kitten? I’m just trying to be thorough.”

“Hmmm—of course, you are,” you sarcastically scoff at him. Yet your voice sounds feeble, and your moans are betraying you by showing how much you need him to go on.

“I can tell that you are properly cleaned down here,” he murmurs against your earlobe. “But why are you getting wet, kitten? I know that this isn’t coming from the bath earlier, nor is it coming from the shower.”

You let out a groan. “You know that it’s your fault.”

“Is it now?” he chuckles. “Is that why you are rocking your hips, kitten?”

You gasp as you realise what you are doing, when your hips are moving back and forth and start grinding against his fingers before you can stop yourself. “I can’t help it. It feels so good.” You whine softly and nearly cry out when he presses down deeply against your sweet spot. “Oh, Yoongi—I think I’m going to cum.”

“Already? So soon?” he groans against your neck as he presses a kiss there. He gives you a few more strokes, pressing deep inside your pussy, before pulling his fingers back out to stop you from embracing your climax. You open your eyes to protest, only to see his mischievous grin as he whispers to you, “What’s the matter, kitten?”

“Why did you stop?” You pout, making him laugh.

“Do you want me to go on?”

“But we’re not finished yet,” you say to him with a soft whine. Looking away from him, you reach down between your bodies to find his erection and wrap your hand around its girth. Using the running water and the excess soap you still have in your grip, you move your hand up and down his length, rubbing off the small stain of mud which is still coating his skin. “You’re still a bit dirty here too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s breath grows heavy as you continue stroking his cock, even when there is no more mud left behind. “You’re growing harder, Yoongi,” you tease him, “Does it feel good?”

Opening his eyes, Yoongi groans at your touch. “You’re such a naughty kitten. I should punish you for being so bad.”

“Hmmm—I think I do deserve a punishment, Sir,” you answer him with a low voice. “But can it wait? Please, Sir. I want to feel you inside me. It hurts. You promised to be thorough, and we don’t have that much time left.”

Groaning deeply, Yoongi grabs your wrist and stops you mid-stroke and slaps your bare bottom to scold you. Once on one side, then once more on the other side to make it even. It draws a gasp out of your lips, while the pain quickly merges into pleasure when he briefly rubs against your tender skin.

“Such a brat,” he says as he steps back in between your legs and presses his cock against your wet folds. “Is this what you want, kitten?” he teases you as he rocks back and forth, rubbing his cock across your hot slit. You feel the tip of his erection pressing at your entrance, and you instinctively move to press against it, hoping that you can get him inside you.

“Yes, please give me your cock, Sir. I need to cum,” you beg him as you rock back against him, enjoying the shudders rushing through your body which brings heat under the cold running water.

“Remember that you asked for it,” he says with a deep groan as he presses forward, finally entering you with one firm thrust. You were already close, already sensitive with the orgasm you reached during the bath and then after while he was cleaning you off from the mud, and it doesn’t take long before you feel it rising back up again even before he starts moving.

The first pulse of your orgasm erupts when he begins rocking his hips. He starts thrusting in and out of you in a rapid pace instead of taking it gently. His rough breathing falls against your neck, with deep moans slipping out each time he pushes his way deeper inside you to make you tremble against his body.

“Did you enjoy the mud bath, kitten? Tell me what you felt while you were soaking in that messy mud,” he asks you with deep grunts escaping his lips, and without even once slowing down. “Talk to me, kitten. Tell me everything.”

“It was,” you moan rather loudly as he thrusts forward just when you are trying to speak. “It felt pleasant. So good. Like the mud was massaging my entire body—” you stop with a gasp as your body starts rocking back against Yoongi in your desperate need to feel more. “Then I felt it moving around my—oh, fuck—my pussy, and it started to feel like it was touching me, rubbing against me.”

Yoongi trembles against you as he feels your walls pulsing around him. Thinking back about the sensation that the mud was giving you draws the same exact reaction from your body as it did before. Only that they all emerge through you more intensely with Yoongi being embedded deeply inside you, his girth rubbing against your walls while you are reminiscing every single thing that you experienced while soaking under the soft, silky mud.

“Then you started touching me, and I felt a lot more,” you continue with a strangled moan. “It felt like there were so many hands and fingers touching me at the same time, while the mud felt like invisible tongues licking all over my body.”

“Fuck, that’s crazy hot,” Yoongi groans, and as he tries to imagine how it must have felt for you to find release while he was playing with you in the mud, he unintentionally pushes forward with one rough thrust, sending you rising against the cold tile wall with its force.

“How did you—oh,” you moan when he shifts, finding a new angle which allows him to reach deeper. “What did you feel while you were in the mud?”

Yoongi opens his eyes at your question, and his strokes slow down just a little as he recalls his own experience. His eyes grow darker when he shares them with you. “It felt warm. You were right about how it felt like the mud was massaging your body, because it felt the same with me. Only that”—he groans as he tries to remember everything and starts picking up his pace—”it felt almost like it was licking and touching me until I grew hard, almost like I was getting an endless blowjob while I was trying to move closer to you.”

He starts moving faster again while being lost in his memory, as if he is trying to bring all the sensations back to his body again. “It felt so warm, almost like how it feels right now when I’m deep inside you.” He pushes forward again with a groan. “Only that this—the real thing—is much better. Way better.”

A sharp gasp slips out of you when he goes back to his rapid thrusts, pounding hard into you like an animal. The sound of your bodies slapping against one another under the running water fills the shower room, while the sound of your cries echoes against the walls around you.

“Yes, this is it. This is how it felt for me,” he groans deeply as he feels your pussy pulsing around his length, followed by the faint spasms of your incoming release gripping his cock with each thrust he is giving you. He reaches down between your rocking bodies, finding your clit and starts stroking and tormenting it until the waves of your pleasure wash over you and you shudder around his hard shaft.

“Cum for me, kitten. Cum on my cock right now,” he commands you with a rough pinch at your clit, and you come undone in a blissful climax while he keeps stroking his cock in and out of you.

Your bodies continue slapping against one another as he rides your orgasm. And he keeps going, continuing his steady thrusts until his body shudders against you as he finds his release, and he slides back into you as deep as he can for the last time as he lets himself go.

The sound of laboured breathes fill the room once you both fall silent in your slow recovery. It takes a moment before Yoongi finally steps back and releases you, keeping his arm around your waist to hold you steady while he reaches out to stop the shower from running.

“I can see now why they said that this therapy would be perfect for a bonding moment between couples. I’ve never had so much fun as I have today,” Yoongi teases you once you are both dry and fully clothed under the robe, stopping any chance of him initiating anything else while waiting for the staff to retrieve you from the shower room.

“I don’t think us getting frisky during the treatment and then after were the things that the staff meant when she talked about couples bonding over the therapy, though,” you respond while rolling your eyes.

Chuckling softly, Yoongi pulls you close to his chest. “Probably not,” he says. “But nobody can blame us for getting the best of it by going a few steps further.”

“Whatever you say,” you laugh at his playfulness, while almost forgetting that the day isn’t completely over yet. There is still a couple of other treatments that you will have to go through today before leaving the spa. Then you will be returning back to the cabin, where Yoongi will make good of his words yet again by claiming what he is owed.

But his illicit games and his punishments can wait. Right now, you just want to make use of all the healing that the spa can offer, and enjoy it together with your loving fiancé while the constant hum of your pleasure is still clinging onto you.

You hold his hand as you wait for the staff to come fetch you before taking you towards the next treatment, already feeling a new kind of excitement along with the contentment now surging through your body.

This trip may have its ups and downs at the beginning, but after what you shared with Yoongi for the past few hours alone, you can already tell that this is going to be an unforgettable getaway for the two of you.

One that you will definitely come to revisit in the future to find your sense of peace.

⤑ Author’s Note | Thank you for reading and for getting this far. Please kindly leave likes/kudos if you enjoyed the story, and also feel free to leave comments and questions if you have any. Any kind of feedback is also welcomed. Thank you again for reading!

#yoongi smut #suga smut #k-vanity #bangtanwhq #bangtansorciere #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #suga scenario #suga fluff #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts x reader

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babystrcandy · 1 year

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matilda (pt. 1) | myg

summary: Loneliness had always been a constant for you, haunting you like a ghost; until your older brother’s best friend, Min Yoongi, came into your life. You both promised each other something back then - you’d always have his support and he’d always have yours. But with time and age, you weren’t sure how much that all still stood to be true.

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | brother’s best friend au, f2e2f2l, slice of life, angst, fluff, eventual smut word count: 13.6K it only gets longer from here warnings/notes: this is based off the song matilda because i couldn’t help myself so beware of the hurt in this fic, first two chapters follow reader and yoongi throughout their lives, explicit language, unrequited love, a whole lot of pining, alcohol usage (mentions of throwing up), unsupportive/neglectful parents, mentions of loss of virginity (but nothing described/not between main pairing), yoongi and reader just want the best for each other, angst angst ANGST, this was originally posted on ao3 and i’m just now uploading it to tumblr, so bear with me i’m a mess, filter is called ethereal, but i can’t rmr the creator, so if it’s yours, pls contact me so i can give credit, i think that’s it but if i missed anything pls let me know (i wrote this a while ago and have no long term memory), ok ok hope you enjoy <3

chapter one: it’s no big deal ( next → )

WHEN YOU WERE MERELY ten years of age, you realized boys were not the bugs crawling with cooties you had made them out to be . . . all thanks to Min Yoongi. You remembered the first time you met him, keeping the fond memory safe inside your head throughout the years.

You grew up lonely. Your father was a wealthy businessman, owning his own company, which his son would surely take over when he came of age. This meant he was always away on business trips or locked inside his office while your mother tended to every one of your brother's needs, oftentimes forgetting you had your own. You didn't have many friends; most of the kids your age labeled you as a snob because of who your father was, so there was no point in trying with them.

Your brother, Kim Seokjin, however, always made sure to drag you along wherever he went like you were his very own prodigy, apprentice, assistant, whatever. He had always been your protector from day one . . . even if he kicked you out of the room every time he had his friends over. (They were playing boy games, he'd always say, but you were smart for your age. You knew boy games actually just meant looking at the special magazines your father kept hidden in his room.)

You'd grown up alone. But you were used to it. It didn't bother you. You liked to be alone when you drew in your sketchbook anyway. And you did draw every chance you got. It helped keep the loneliness at bay.

The day you met Min Yoongi had been no different.

That day, you found yourself alone yet again. Your father had locked himself in his office for the night while your mother took Seokjin to one of his basketball practices. In your lonesome, you'd turned to mindlessly draw in front of the television in the living room, while the movie Matilda played in the background. You'd spent that time etching the ideas that had consumed your young mind onto the new sketchbook you had begged your parents to buy. You'd planned to ask for paints next.

You liked being alone. You liked painting in silence. Lately, you had been finding the silence, in general, not so bad. You'd even go as far as to say you enjoyed it.

Seokjin didn't. He could never handle it. Because of this, he'd always kept busy with his many interests that seemed to grow as he aged.

While only at ten, you enjoyed days full of art and color and watching Matilda over and over again, Seokjin was stuck at twelve almost thirteen with an overactive mind and a need to fight twenty-four-seven. Granted, he was only a preteen boy, so it was a given he’d beg his parents to let him join every sport he set his mind to.

And the sport he had chosen this year: basketball. And this time your mother decided to chaperon every practice and every game . . . so that meant you would be left alone even more, given the other invasive fact that your father was far too busy to give you the time of day.

It would just be you and your drawings from now on, you supposed. You'd have to draw faces to keep you company, and that wasn't so bad. You could find friendship in the two-dimensional caricatures you'd craft. And you could like that. You had to like that.

So when your mother opened the front door with boxes of pizza juggling in her hands, warning you that Seokjin and his friends would be in any minute, it was no surprise that you were still drawing. You had nodded, not paying much attention due to the fact that your dear (you noted, sarcastically) older brother always made it a habit to invite his friends over to his house after their basketball practices. It was routine by now. A routine you hated . . . because . . . your brother’s offer to have his teammates over meant you would have to sit there in the middle of their preteen antics and body odor and endure it all. (Just another reason why you had never paid attention to boys: they all smelled. Bad.)

But that day had been different. Because when the boys from your brother’s team finally all piled in, loud and obnoxious as they made their way to the kitchen for a slice of pizza, you spotted a new face. He was shorter than most of the boys, his limbs long and skinny, but he had this expression on his round face that convinced your young, hopeless romantic mind that you had truly just seen sparks fly. Like, full-on sparks. Perhaps there were even hearts in your eyes.

You observed him for the rest of the night, and in your ten-year-old mind, you had reassured yourself that no, this was not stalking . . .

Because, no, it was not creepy for Seokjin’s little sister to stand in the doorway of the kitchen, silent and standing still as you listened to the boys talk amongst each other. And, no, it was not weird that you kept staring at the new face amongst your brother’s friends, giggling when you saw him accidentally drop a piece of pepperoni on the floor.

He had looked at you then, his attention being drawn to the sound of your small laughter. And when he had, you, being ten and well . . . not used to interacting with other people often, tried to hide from his gaze, but the boy didn’t give you a weird look like your peers normally sent your way, instead, his mouth morphed into an awkward tight-lipped smile as he hastily picked up the pepperoni from the floor and flicked it onto his plate. He then turned away and focused his attention on Seokjin, who was loudly demonstrating the shots he had made during practice.

It was clear he could still feel your eyes on him as he kept awkwardly glancing your way, shifting under your gaze. It wasn’t until the boy grabbed another paper plate, put a piece of pizza on it, and approached you that you truly realized that the boy had actually seen you staring at him.

Almost as if you had been starstruck, you stared at him, your eyes as wide as saucers as you glanced between the plate in his hands and his face.

A second later he had asked, “Did you want a slice?” His voice was small with only a hint of awkwardness hidden behind his calm tone as he held out the plate toward you.

You blinked, nodding up at him, and a second afterward, you grabbed the plate from him, your eyes never leaving his face. You noticed then that he had a small freckle on his nose, and you decided that it was your favorite thing about him.

It only took a second longer for you to convince yourself that you were going to marry him. This caused your cheeks to blaze aflame. (You’d surely write this down in your diary . . . )

But your cheeks didn’t stay burning long before your brother finally became burdened by your presence and yelled your name, "Leave Yoongi alone. You’re freaking my friends out with your weird looks.”

You blinked, slightly stunned as you kept your wide eyes on the boy—Yoongi.

“It’s OK,” Yoongi mumbled, offering a small smile. “She was just hungry.”

You grinned widely at his words.

Yoongi.

You noted his name so you wouldn’t forget it. To the diary, it would go.

However, when you heard your brother click his tongue in annoyance, you quickly snapped out of your bashful daze and groaned at your brother, stomping your foot and pointing a finger at him. “You can't kick me out this time. It's dinnertime, dingus, and I'm hungry,” you huffed. “And . . . Mom said I could join!”

Your brother gave you an irritated look. “No, mom told you to leave me alone when I have friends over,” he hissed.

“No—” you bit out— “you did!” You groaned again. "I could starve . . . because of you!"

Seokjin clicked his tongue. “OK, you have your pizza now, so go.”

“But—”

“Go away, shithead,” Seokjin whined, shooing you away.

You glared at him. "You're such a nerd."

"Nerd?" Seokjin scoffed. "How-How am I a nerd?"

"Find a mirror," you muttered as you pointed at the glasses on his face, simultaneously taking a bite of your pizza at the same time.

Seokjin gave you a pointed look. "If you leave now--" he paused to release a sigh as he rolled his eyes and continued, his voice muffled-- "we can watch Matilda later."

You smiled, complacently. “Fine.”

You turned to leave the kitchen, but not before you stuck your tongue out at your older brother. He reciprocated the action but flipped you off in the process. He, however, quickly realized what he had done, his eyes flying wide open just as a sly grin slid onto your face.

And at that, you took off running as you yelled, “Mom, Jin flipped me off!”

But as you ran away, you could have sworn you had heard a laugh fall from Yoongi. Maybe you had imagined it . . . but . . . it'd warmed your heart nevertheless.

The second time you saw Min Yoongi, it was a Tuesday. You had just returned home from school, skipping through the front door of your house with your mother close behind you. While your mother briefly told you she would be in the kitchen making dinner, you hummed in acknowledgment as you made your way to the living room, pulling out your sketchbook from your backpack and getting to work.

You hadn’t known how much time had passed before loud voices carried into the room and you felt the cushion beside you on the couch dip under the weight of someone else. Only when you glanced up did you realize sitting beside you was your brother’s friend, Yoongi.

Now, you had successfully found out a few things about the boy beside you over the past few weeks that he had become friends with your brother. While Seokjin was busy gaming, you would nag and nag and nag him to tell you more about his friend, to which Seokjin always teased you, telling you he was too old for you. You had only huffed and rolled your eyes, deciding to keep your mouth shut and deal with the information you had already gathered.

And to your diary, it all went.

Min Yoongi was his full name. He was around the same age as your brother, so about twelve, almost thirteen—around a little over one or close to two years older than you, but two grades apart due to the cut-off. He was new to the team, just recently moving to Seoul from Daegu because his father got a new job there and apparently it was paying better, so they decided to enroll Yoongi in the same school that Seokjin went to.

That also meant that he had begged his parents to let him join a local basketball team in hopes of maintaining some familiarity with his old life. And he was surprisingly good, already mastering most of the positions and slowly improving their team bit by bit. And . . . he had the prettiest eyes you had ever seen. (Although, the latter fact being one that you had added entirely on your own.)

And as he sat beside you on that couch, you realized his eyes were even prettier than you had originally noted. When he offered you a small friendly smile, you could have sworn you were going to puke a butterfly.

But the boy turned away a second later and you realized you had been staring up at him with a wide (maybe too wide) toothy grin.

You heard your brother call your name, drawing your attention.

Only then as you turned to look at your brother did you realize Yoongi was only sitting beside you because your brother and his other friend from the team, Jung Hoseok were occupying the only other couch in the living room. And then you realized why they were in there—they wanted the TV and that meant Seokjin would be nagging you to leave them be any minute.

“Nuh-uh, I was here first,” you quickly groaned out before your brother could say a word, stomping your feet on the ground.

Seokjin sighed. “We’re watching a horror movie. You’ll get scared,” he told you, his brows raised. He thought he was so much older now since his birthday would be in a few weeks, but you were older too. You’d be eleven in January. You could so watch a scary movie.

“I like scary movies,” you lied. “I watch them all the time.” Another lie.

"You still watch Matilda," Seokjin countered. "You're practically four."

You shot him a look. "I'm ten, you four-eyed freak."

While Seokjin gave you a pointed look and lifted his glasses up his nose, Hoseok gave a small laugh. You, however, glanced at Yoongi beside you, seeing he was looking at his friends, a small smile on his face.

Fortunately for you, Seokjin let you stay as he started the movie. But you immediately lowered your eyes to your sketchbook, drawing to distract yourself from the noises coming from the television. About thirty minutes in, trying to mask your fear by drawing more and more, you heard Yoongi speak . . . to you.

“That’s cool.”

You stopped and looked up at him, speechless. “What?”

“Your drawing,” Yoongi whispered, pointing at your sketchbook. “I think it’s cool. You’re . . . really good.”

You turned bashful. “Oh. Thank you.”

A scream from the television, however, made you jump, causing your eyes to squeeze shut. You opened them, slightly more embarrassed now as you avoided eye contact with the older boy. Your eyes drooped to your sketchbook a second later, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. One look from those feline-like eyes would surely make you embarrass yourself even more, and you had done enough of that tonight. But the boy didn’t let you dwell in your embarrassment for much longer before he reached behind him, grabbed a pillow, and offered it out to you.

You glanced between the pillow and Yoongi’s face.

The boy only offered a small smile. “Block the screen with it,” he began. “It helps . . . a little.”

You smiled, bashfully. “Thank you,” you mumbled as you took the pillow and rested it on your knees that were bent to your chest. And he was right. The pillow did block the screen, allowing you to rest a little easier now that you didn’t have to endure the jump scares through your peripheral.

And just when you thought your heart couldn't beat faster, Yoongi whispered to you, “Don’t worry, I promise I won’t tell your brother you’re scared as long as you don’t tell him I am too.”

You blinked.

Yoongi scrunched his nose as he held out his pinky finger, gesturing for you to solidify the promise.

And how could you oppose?

You couldn’t.

You reached for his pinky with a grin on your face, linking your pinkies together and shaking. This was your first promise, but you could tell it wouldn’t be your last.

It did not take long for you to warm up to Min Yoongi. In fact, you looked forward to every time he would come home with your brother after practice or just to randomly hang out on the weekend. You had even started to willingly go with your mother to watch your brother’s games . . . although . . . you never told any of them that you only went to see Yoongi.

So, you had a crush. So what?

You couldn’t help the heat that would creep up on your cheeks when he would come over to your house, sending a small wave your way when you'd lock eyes. Oftentimes when Seokjin’s teammates would hang out at the Kim household, they’d end up filtering to your spacious backyard where there lay a pool accompanied by an area where your parents had recently installed a small basketball court. It seemed Seokjin would be sticking with basketball for a while, and you couldn't complain.

You especially couldn’t complain when you’d pretend to go outside and draw in your sketchbook when you were actually just watching the boys play scrimmages of basketball. Your crush only worsened every time Yoongi would come over to you, dragging you with him to get you to play in one of the games with them. And every time, you found yourself unable to say no to him.

And when the rest of the boys had to head home, the night usually ended with Yoongi and Hoseok deciding to stay the night as per Seokjin’s request. This, of course, always resulted in the three of them plus you staying out in the backyard, teaching you how to shoot and block. However, Yoongi ended up being the one to teach you most of the tricks, telling you that you were his prodigy in the making.

“You’re gonna be better than me one day,” he said one night as you made a basket.

From the other side of the court, Seokjin snorted. “Don’t go lying to her, Yoon.”

“Yah!” you whined, stomping your foot at your brother. "Watch it, four-eyes!"

Your brother only laughed, quickly tsked at you when he'd heard your insult, while Hoseok, who stood beside him, whacked his chest. “She’ll get better the more she practices,” he reassured with a warm smile.

You beamed at him, opening your mouth to speak, but a hand resting on top of your head trapped the words in your throat. You blinked and followed the hand, discovering that it was Yoongi who had decided to rest his palm atop your crown, his other hand holding the basketball. “She’s already better than you are now,” the Min boy teased, raising his brows.

“Really?” you questioned, your voice small and hopeful.

Yoongi looked down at you and nodded. “Way, way, way better,” he hummed as he scrunched his nose, patting your head before he dropped his other hand to the basketball. “Just look at those long arms of his. He’ll slap you in the face before he can steal the ball.”

You let out a burst of laughter, and Seokjin scolded the two of you.

“Stop fraternizing with the enemy!” the Kim boy yelled, his hands out.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Your little sister is not the enemy,” he began. “Those long arms of yours are . . . and that awful hand-eye coordination you got going on.”

“Yah!” Seokjin hissed, almost stomping his foot on the asphalt, but stopping himself. “My arms are a normal length.”

“Let’s put it to the test,” Yoongi declared as he passed the ball to Seokjin. “New game?” His eyes drifted to you as if asking you personally.

“New game,” you mumbled, trying to find your voice but you were too wrapped up in his eyes. Yoongi grinned at that and you were sure you were going to faint.

“Me and the kid against you and Hoseok?” Yoongi announced, looking at Seokjin for confirmation. “Or are you too scared to face me and my prodigy?”

Me and my prodigy.

You turned bashful. To the diary, it would go.

And before you could convince yourself that you heard wedding bells in the background, you heard Seokjin agree and then Yoongi was giving you a friendly pat on the back before he immersed himself into the game. You had no choice but to follow suit, after all, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him by making him lose the game. It wasn’t until you guys had actually won that you were convinced Yoongi was some kind of good luck charm.

. . . You had a crush. A big fat one at that.

This carried on even as the years passed; even as you turned eleven and then twelve; even as Yoongi turned thirteen and then fourteen. You both grew, but the bond only strengthened, morphing into a friendship even you hadn’t seen coming. Even though you knew Yoongi only saw you as if you, too, were his little sister, you didn’t care. You realized having him as a friend meant more to you even at your young, immature age. You also didn’t mind having Hoseok around, finding yourself with a wide grin on your face when all four of you guys were together. And . . . Seokjin eventually got used to the fact that his friends were now also kind of his little sister’s . . . although he didn't take this information well at first.

(But you made sure to rub it in your brother’s face every chance you got.)

When you were twelve years of age you gave Min Yoongi a paper ring.

Over the past two years of Yoongi and Hoseok coming over without the other team members, you had grown to know more about the two. For instance, one day Hoseok showed up after agreeing to meet Seokjin and Yoongi for a game, but he didn’t show up alone. Instead, accompanying him was his little sister, Jung Hari, who stood small and lanky with her head held low as she bashfully peeked up to look at her brother’s friends.

And you wasted no time. You’d grabbed the girl by the arm, asking her if she’d like to watch a movie (preferably your favorite . . . Matilda) while the boys played a game of basketball.

The thing was: you weren’t a shy kid, you just didn't have many friends. You had been shy when you were younger, but now, you weren't as bashfully shy as you had been, even if you still heated up any time Yoongi asked you to teach him how to draw the simplest of things. You were loud and colorful. And since Hoseok was only a year older than you, you oftentimes found yourself running your mouth along with him while your brother and Yoongi rolled their eyes at the two of you.

So when you saw Jung Hari, only one year younger than you, sulking as she was forced to accompany her brother to his hang out, you had jumped at the chance to make the girl feel at home.

Hari ended up coming along with her brother a lot more after that, and it was no surprise that the two of you had grown close.

You introduced the world of art to Hari, and Hari shared with you her secret pastime of origami. You guys had rolled your eyes when the boys would eat their food too fast, resulting in three teenage boys groaning about their stomach aches. And when you would sit outside and watch the boys play their silly little games, Hari would join, her nose held high in disgust when they’d try to pull her in to join the game. (While she would protest and protest, it was normally you who would convince the younger girl to join. It became evident the two of you would do anything for each other.)

And when you turned twelve, the month of February rolling around, you came to the one person who you knew would help you—Hari. Why exactly did you need help? Well . . . you heard from your brother that Han Daeun was going to ask Yoongi to be her valentine, and suddenly you were an atomic bomb.

For three days you contemplated asking Hari to show you how to make a paper ring, and on the third day, you went to her. And a day later, you trudged out to your backyard with a paper ring clutched tightly in your hand. There, you found Yoongi shooting hoops while he waited for Seokjin to return from the bathroom.

“Yoon,” you called out toward the older boy.

At the sound of your small voice, Yoongi glanced over his shoulder, brows raised high in question as he clutched the basketball in his hands. Once he found your face, his nose scrunched as a smile lifted onto his face. He tossed the basketball to the side and made his way toward you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice ever so calm. He sounded the way he always did—cool, calm, and collected. “How’s my prodigy doing?”

You forced yourself not to get too flustered, but it was no use. Yoongi was almost fourteen now. It would be March soon and then there would be two years still between you guys once again. Even now he looked older than he was. Perhaps it was because he always carried himself in such a way that even you couldn’t wrap your mind around. You supposed that was one of the first things you noticed about him—he seemed to view the world differently from everyone else.

“I’m OK!” you exclaimed, your voice coming out an octave too loud. It was just that . . . you were nervous. You knew you had to give him the ring quickly before your brother came back out and made a fool of you. “Um . . . I just have . . . something to give you.”

Yoongi grinned wider, his gums showing. “You have a present for me?” he asked. “It’s not my birthday for another month.”

“It’s not for your birthday,” you rushed out, perhaps a little too quickly. You nervously twisted the paper ring in your hand and gnawed on your bottom lip.

Yoongi blinked in confusion. “Oh.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “It’s for valentine’s day,” your words were clumped together as you spoke. “Here—” you shoved your hand out, revealing the paper ring with a perfectly crafted heart in the middle of it— ”It’s a ring. I wanted to know if you’d be my valentine?”

The silence was your only answer. Your heart dropped.

Slowly, you peeled open your eyes to find Yoongi staring at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. You got the feeling that this would not be the last time Min Yoongi would give you that damned look. But at the time, the look nearly made you sob at the sight.

The older boy murmured your full name, trailing off. He didn’t refer to you as his prodigy or as kid. He just simply called you your boring old name, and somehow that broke your heart more, because you knew what it meant. You knew he only saw you as your brother’s kid sister. He’d never see you as anything else, so when he said your name, it was the simplest rejection he could’ve given you.

You dropped your hand and averted your gaze. You had to get out of there. “I’m sorry,” was all you could mumble as you threw the ring to the ground, turned around, and walked back inside. You passed Seokjin on your way to the living room, but when he went to tease you, you only flipped him off and flopped down on the couch. Your sketchbook awaited you, and you sat there sulking as you drew.

An hour later, Seokjin came back inside with Yoongi behind him. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. You couldn’t help but flush with warmth as you avoided eye contact with Yoongi at all costs.

But then came Seokjin’s voice. “Why are you acting so weird?” he questioned you as he sat down on the other couch. “Did you and Hari fight?”

You shook your head, huffing. “No, you nerd.”

“Did something happen at school?” he pressed. “Was it a boy?”

You stilled.

Seokjin stood to his feet and said your name. “Was it?” he went on, his voice gruff as he fixed his glasses on his face.

You didn’t respond.

And Seokjin took that as an answer. “OK, here’s what we’re going to do,” he began, pointing to Yoongi as if the two of them were trying to come up with their next play for a game. “We’ll round up the team and jump the fucker. There’s a dozen of us, and one of him. We got this.” He turned to you next. “What’s the dickhead’s name? Huh? Spill it or I’ll call Hoseok and he’ll get it out of Hari.”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“It will be once I find him,” Seokjin grumbled. “Come on—”

“No!” you yelled, finally glancing up at your brother, but your eyes found Yoongi’s instead. “It’s fine. He didn’t do anything.”

It was silent for a moment as Seokjin searched your face, but ultimately, he gave in, sighing and plopping down on the couch with a loud huff. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But if he does anything, you tell me and I’ll beat his ass.”

You hummed.

Only then did Yoongi finally sit down, but just your luck, he sat right beside you. Great.

Ten minutes later, Seokjin put on a movie, still grumbling from when you refused to tell him what was wrong. You rolled your eyes. He could be so immature even at his age. It wasn’t like you could’ve told him anyway. How were you supposed to tell him that you had made a fool of yourself in front of Yoongi because you were just a lovesick preteen crushing on your older brother’s best friend? Then they’d both be giving you that stupid look.

But . . . twenty minutes into the movie, and Yoongi plucked the pencil out of your hand. You watched in confusion as the boy leaned forward and began to write on your sketchbook. When he was done, he pulled away, gesturing for you to read the words.

I’m sorry I upset you. I never want to do that.

You sighed at his handwriting. There was the pity. You slowly nodded your head and added a shrug before you took the pencil from him and wrote underneath his words.

It’s OK. I forgive you.

You sheepishly turned away from him, but he surprised you again, taking your pencil and writing more underneath your handwriting. When he pulled away, you blinked at his words in disbelief.

Ask me again when you’re 25.

You blinked a couple more times, not believing your eyes. Then, you felt his hand touch yours as he pried your fingers apart, revealing your palm. He put the paper ring you had thrown away into your palm and then pulled away, leaving you in utter confusion as you blinked up at him, your eyes as wide as saucers. The boy only muffled his laugh as he pinched your chubby cheek before he turned back to the movie, completely unbothered.

But you couldn’t pay attention to the movie. You knew he only saw you as Seokjin’s little sister, but still, his words had comforted you, nursing the embarrassment you had previously felt. Ask me again when you’re twenty-five, he had written, and you made a vow to yourself that you would.

Ask me again when you’re twenty-five. You smiled.

To the diary, it would go.

“I can’t believe you ran away,” Yoongi groaned as he plopped down on the seat next to you.

You only smirked. You were fourteen now, and not willing to listen to anyone’s advice. The only thing on your mind: you wanted to be an artist.

That all led you to that day. You see, there had been this art gallery in Busan where there were bound to be scouts and agents looking at all the underground artists that had the privilege to have their work displayed in the gallery. And, well, about three months prior, you had submitted a bunch of your pieces to the gallery, and to your surprise, they’d chosen one of your pieces to display. You, of course, had lied about your age, claiming you were four years older than you actually were, but still.

And the event was today.

Obviously, you couldn’t go telling your parents about this, especially your father, who’d have a fit if he knew his daughter wanted to waste her career on paints rather than medical tools. So that left you with no choice other than to book a ticket (with your allowance, of course) for the train going from Seoul to Busan that Saturday morning.

And who, of course, caught you sneaking out of your house that early Saturday morning? Min Yoongi . . . as always. And just your luck (or rather misfortune), Yoongi wouldn't let you go alone unless you let him come with you. To which you had only rolled your eyes at and hastily agreed as you were pressed for time, and then the two of you were off, riding your bikes to the sound of "It's No Big Deal” as you both approached the Seoul train station.

That led you to now—the two of you sitting on a train about to take off toward Busan, and you couldn’t wipe the wide grin off your face no matter how many times Yoongi complained.

“For the record, I didn’t run away,” you jested as you looked at Yoongi out of the corner of your eye. “I’m just . . . destined for greater things.” You giggled at your own words, sighing a pleasant hum. “Plus . . . no one else is going to make this happen besides me, so I have to seize the day, right? Isn’t that what you’ve always told me? Never give up?”

Because he had. Ever since the paper ring incident; ever since the two of you grew closer; ever since Yoongi started asking questions about the things you would draw; ever since you started attending his piano recitals, he’d always tell you to get what you really wanted out of life for yourself and not for others. He’d always told you to chase what you desired, and you’d always listened.

Yoongi sighed, resting his head against the headrest of his seat. He lolled his head to the side, meeting your eyes. “I can’t say you’re wrong,” he hummed, sending you a warm smile. “You should chase your dreams. You’ll blow them away with your drawings.” He smiled wider. “I told you I thought they were cool years ago, and I meant it.”

“Well, then,” you began, your head held high with your nose in the air as you tried to come up with words to respond with. “I guess this means you support my decision?”

Yoongi tapped your nose. “You’ll always have my support, kid.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t have gotten off this train even if you forced me,” you huffed, sinking into your seat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughed, his gums showing slightly. “You can’t be controlled. That’s what I like about you. You’re reckless—” he glanced over at you for just a second— “in a good way. Don’t go thinking I’m dissing you. Actually . . . I think I envy you.”

Yoongi was sixteen now. He knew a lot more about the world than you. And you were still only fourteen. You didn’t know who you were. You were sure Yoongi had always known who he was and who he’d become. It was one of the things you admired about him. It was the reason you were on that train. So . . . how did he envy you when he had been the one to teach you to fight for what you wanted?

“Me?” you finally snorted. “Why would you envy me?”

“Because you know what you want.”

“Oh.”

“You always have.”

You turned away, looking out the window. “I wouldn’t say that,” you sheepishly mumbled.

“I would,” he countered, gaining your eyes on him. “You’ve never done anything you didn’t want. You just go for it. Anything you want . . . you go for it.” He nudged you with his elbow. “You’ll go far, kid. You’ll see. Just . . . promise me you won’t forget me when you’re famous.”

You slapped a hand to your chest. “I promise.”

And then Yoongi was sticking out his hand, his pinky on display.

You smiled and locked your pinkies together, shaking. A pinky promise—just like the one he’d offered to you that time you were young and scared of a horror movie your brother had put on. It was another promise shared between you both.

“I promise,” you said again, grinning wider now.

It was silent for a moment as you guys dropped your hands just as the train had begun to move. But it wasn’t quiet for long. It never was with the two of you.

“How long do you think before Jin figures out we’re not there?” Yoongi asked after a minute.

You looked down at your watch. “About . . . tomorrow morning o’clock.”

Yoongi scrunched his nose as he laughed—it was loud and hearty, unlike you’d ever heard before. “Oh, really?”

You only nodded, taking in his laugh. You’d surely remember it for years to come.

“Well, we should probably call him when we get off,” he said, his shoulders still slightly shaking from his laughter. “Wouldn’t want him to have a heart attack when your mom finds out that you’re not in your bed.”

“Fine,” you huffed.

Yoongi patted the top of your head. “Hey, now, don’t sulk,” he began. “They were going to find out about your little mission eventually. You just got to rip off the bandaid.”

“Easier said than done,” you mumbled. “Dad wants me to be a doctor. He says I’m too smart to let it go to waste. He’ll be pissed when he finds out . . . “

“So what’s the plan?” Yoongi asked, although you both knew he wasn’t really asking. You both knew what you were going to do. You had already decided.

And as expected, you said, “I’m gonna go to this art gallery.”

“And then?”

“Even if it doesn’t work out, I’ll keep at it,” you reassured yourself, but you still felt . . . weak. “This is my thing . . . my life. I’ll keep at it even if no one supports me. I’ll make it even if I make it alone.”

Yoongi smiled—it was warm, innocent. “You’ll never have to do anything alone,” he murmured, his voice soft as if he were comforting a small child. “I’ll be here every step of the way. Wherever you are in the world, I’ll support you and hope it reaches you.”

You stared at him for a minute, taking in his words. As you stared, searching his comforting smile, you could feel your eyes growing hot. You didn’t want to cry . . . but . . .

“And if it doesn’t?” you questioned. “Reach me, I mean.”

“Then I’ll come to you,” he said, simply.

Against your will, a tear slipped down your cheek as his words fell.

Yoongi reached forward and wiped the tears from your, still, chubby cheeks. “The day I became friends with Jin, you became my sister, too,” he told you, “so don’t ever think you don’t have me, because you do. You won’t ever have to worry about being alone. Even if you have no one, I’ll always be here. Even if we fight and end up hating each other . . . I’ll always be a call away. You’ll always have me.”

You’ll always have me.

To your heart this would go. These words were too sacred to write in your diary. You’d keep them locked away in your heart, unable to be tainted by the cruel world.

“Promise?” you asked, weakly.

“Promise,” he confirmed, neither of you guys holding out your hands to pinky promise on it. You both knew this pact went beyond silly gestures. There was no need for a pinky swear when you both knew your words to be true. It was as simple as that.

The two of you smiled at each other for a minute after your shared words, before Yoongi dug into his back pocket and pulled out his iPod attached to a pair of cheap wired headphones. “I have a song I want you to hear, kid,” he spoke up, handing you an earbud.

You took it without hesitance, plugging yourself in as the boy did the same and pressed play on this mystery song. And as you listened, you realized the song was entirely instrumental and being played on a . . . piano. And then you realized you recognized the speed of the song, and the style of the keys playing. This was Yoongi playing.

“It’s you,” you breathed out, not able to stop yourself.

“Thoughts?”

“I love it.”

You saw a hint of a smile tug at Yoongi’s lips. “I composed it myself,” he confessed. “I’ve been staying late after school these past few weeks working on it.”

“Has anybody heard it yet?”

“Just you.”

You felt yourself grow hot.

“I just knew you’d get it,” he told you. “Everyone else would tell me I was wasting my time, but I knew you wouldn't.”

“What’s the inspiration behind it?” you questioned, still listening to the sound of the keys.

“What it would be like to leave and grow up . . . in the way I wanted and not the way everyone else wants,” he explained, curtly.

You nodded. You understood. “It could be a reality, you know?”

Yoongi scoffed. “To be a world-renowned jazz musician and travel the world?” he asked, his words sorrowful. He shook his head before you could answer. “I hate to disappoint you, kid, but I believe in you a lot more than I could ever believe in myself.” He scoffed again. “You’ve got talent. No, you’ve got the talent everyone thinks they have but don’t, because you’ll make it while everyone else won’t.” He looked at you then, his eyes soft but sad. “We’re different, you and I. I’m not like you. I won’t make it. Besides, my parents would never support me if I even thought about going down that road.”

“You can call yourself Gloss,” you simply said, ignoring his words.

He said your name in a whisper, trailing off.

There it was again. The way he said your name with such sorrow as if he didn’t want to disappoint you by continuing his sentence. But, you would continue for him.

“If you can support me so blindly, then why can’t I support you?” you questioned.

He stayed quiet.

And you continued. “When I don’t believe in myself, I believe in you and I do this because I know you believe in me. That is how I get through things. When I believe in you, I can do anything,” you spoke, your words getting trapped in your throat as it became harder to speak. “So, I say do what makes you happy. And when it gets too hard to believe you can make it; to believe in yourself, then believe in me and it will give you strength.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Believe in me because I believe in you.”

Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek, but still, he did not speak.

“OK?” you spoke for him.

He nodded.

“OK,” you reassured yourself as you shuffled toward him, locking your arm with his as you rested your head on his shoulder.

A second later you felt Yoongi lean his head on yours, and your heart glowed golden.

“When did you get so smart?” he asked after a minute, intertwining your hand with his.

You snorted. “I always have been.”

“Cocky.”

“No, just confident.”

“Shut it.”

You laughed.

Another second of silence before Yoongi snorted and asked, “Why Gloss?”

“Because your lips are always glossy, duh,” you retorted. “I swear it’s like you’re constantly drooling, Yoon.”

Yoongi scoffed. “I do not drool.”

“Slobber, then?”

“You’re pushing it, kid.”

You only grinned, ear to ear.

At fifteen, you swore you felt your heart break for the first time.

You had gone to meet Hari in the parking lot outside of school before you went to the school’s studio to work on some of your paintings when you saw them. Standing near a secluded part of the parking lot stood Min Yoongi with a girl, the two of them leaning against his car. And no, they weren’t just talking, unless you considered talking to be Yoongi sticking his tongue down the girl’s throat and his hand inching toward the hem of her skirt.

Which . . . you did not.

And you certainly couldn’t contain your shock as you gaped at them and spat out, “What, the fuck?”

The two teenagers jumped slightly at the intrusion and glanced over to see who had caught them. Yoongi found your eyes first, his growing in size as he realized you had caught him. It wasn’t that he felt guilty, you knew that, but it was the fact that he knew it would be awkward between you both, because . . . well . . . just yesterday he was blowing spitballs your way through a straw and now you had just seen him with his tongue down a girl's throat.

“Fuck,” he managed to mutter out as he detached himself from the girl and caught sight of you standing and looking at him in shock.

But you weren’t staring at him in shock. No, you were standing still because if you moved, you were sure you’d end up letting a few tears fall. It wasn’t that you didn’t know Yoongi wasn’t a virgin anymore. You knew. You’d heard Jin go on and on about how Yoongi hooked up with his jazz band partner or how he went down on some girl in the girl’s bathroom last month. You had heard it all, and every time it’d gnaw at your flesh just a tad. But this . . .

Actually catching Yoongi in the act was something you never wanted to see because you knew you wouldn’t have been able to handle it. You’d always wonder what it would be like to be that girl he was with. But you knew that could never be. You were Seokjin’s little sister. Yoongi couldn’t have you in that way, even if he wanted to or even if you were older, because of the very fact that you were Kim Seokjin’s sister, and that meant that you would always be off-limits.

So when you saw them, all you wanted to do was cry.

But you had grown into your skin a little more now. You were not brittle or weak, and you certainly did not let anyone see you cry. And you would not have Min Yoongi see you cry over him like he had seen when you were twelve and gave him that stupid paper ring that you still foolishly kept in a drawer in your room.

That was exactly why you turned completely around and walked back toward the school when you made eye contact with Yoongi, then drifted to the girl’s face, recognizing her as Han Daeun. You didn’t want to see it. They could continue for all you cared. But, fuck, did it hurt.

And when you didn’t hear anyone come after you, you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your cheeks as you silently cried. Until . . .

Yoongi’s voice filtered through your ears and he was . . . yelling your name.

You only walked quicker, almost breaking into a sprint, but Yoongi was faster. The boy secured his hand around your arm before you could bolt away from him. You quickly wiped your tears away before he could see them as you turned around to meet his eyes.

“What?” you questioned, your voice curt. You knew how you looked—cold and vacant, but you didn’t care. You were hurt.

Yoongi breathed out through his nose and dropped his hand. “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you hissed, your voice coming out harsher than you intended. “You can do whatever you want. I don’t care.”

“Don’t be like that,” Yoongi pleaded, his voice as calm as ever. He always sounded like that—collected and calm, which you usually admired, but right now, it made you want to bite his head off.

You took a step toward him, sending him a challenging look. “Like what?”

“Come on, kid,” Yoongi scoffed. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I don’t care.”

He said your name in a whisper, trailing off.

“Look, I get it, you think I’ve got this big crush on you,” you began, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t need you to protect my feelings. In fact, I don’t have any anymore, not for you. So I don’t need you coming after me, apologizing like I’m some stupid little kid.”

Yoongi sighed, running his hands through his jet-black hair. “I just know how you get. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You couldn’t help the scoff that left you. “Oh, please, you’re so fucking full of yourself,” you spat. “Just because I had a stupid crush on you when I was a kid, does not mean I still have one. Got it?”

Yoongi only looked at you, his face blank. “Look, kid, I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered. “I just don’t want you to—” He cut himself off, attempting to rest his hand on your shoulder, but you pulled away.

“Think I have a chance with you?” you finished for him, seething.

Yoongi only dropped his hand, his head dropping with it as he squeezed his eyes shut in regret. It was perhaps the first emotion he had shown you like this. And it managed to piss you off even more.

He still thought you were some dumb kid.

Well . . .

. . . he could go fuck himself.

Another scoff fell from your lips. “Heard you loud and clear,” you bit out. “But next time, Yoongi, maybe don’t chase after me. Wouldn’t want the crazy obsessed little girl to think you might like her.” And with that, you turned around and stormed off to paint your feelings.

He called out to you.

But you only flipped him off.

And Yoongi didn’t follow you.

On your sixteenth birthday, you made sure you got absolutely plastered.

Your parents were away for the weekend, so that meant Seokjin had made it his personal mission to throw his baby sister the best sweet sixteen yet. And that meant booze, booze, and more booze.

He’d invited the guys from his basketball team that had now become nothing more than a few friends coming together every once in a while to play against each other now that they were all ready to go off to college in the new semester. Hari, of course, was one of the first people to come over way before the actual party started, bringing along with her Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two boys in her class who she had grown close to that school year. That also meant you had grown close to them too, but that wasn’t much of a surprise given your outgoing personality.

(Let’s just say you had gained some attention as time passed, the rumors about you being a snob, trickling into nothing.)

And if they were invited, then that meant your brother no doubt had also invited Min Yoongi.

One problem: you had been avoiding Yoongi since you caught him and Daeun up against his car earlier that year.

So you decided getting drunk was your best bet.

And you did, in fact, get drunk. Maybe that was an understatement. You were completely and utterly out of your mind, shooting back shots of vodka with Jimin, meanwhile, Taehyung and Hari laughed at the two of you the drunker you became. Hell, at one point, you were sure you told Jimin you loved him . . . that was how drunk you were.

You’d caught Yoongi’s eyes a few times that night, glaring briefly before you looked away. You had a mission that night: get your first kiss, and if you kept making eye contact with him you feared you’d accidentally let it slip that you wanted him to be the one to kiss you even though you knew he never would. So, every time you’d make eye contact with him, you’d look away and take a shot.

It wasn’t until you started to lose count of how many shots you took that you realized that maybe getting drunk was not the best plan. And as the night came to a close, everyone drunk and gleeful, you tried to make your way to the bathroom, but found yourself not being able to walk up the stairs. You just kept falling over.

And after the fifth time you fell over, you felt strong, warm arms wrap around your body. One arm went under your knees, the other wrapping around your back, carrying you bridal style, and you didn’t complain (partially because if you opened your mouth, you’d end up puking on the person).

You lost track of time after that. You remembered getting to the bathroom, puking as much as you could before you felt someone wipe your mouth and proceed to help you brush your teeth. You remembered being picked up again and carried somewhere. Only when you were laid on something soft did you realize you were laying on your bed in your room while the person carefully took off your heels and shoved on a comfortable sweatshirt over the dress you were wearing. But the person didn’t dare to remove your clothes. Instead, they kept you in your dress accompanied by the sweatshirt before they pulled back the covers of your bed and tucked you in.

And you let this all happen because for some odd reason you felt . . . safe.

Only when the person sat down, their weight making the bed dip, did you flutter your eyes open enough to see that Min Yoongi had been the one to take care of you. You almost puked again at the thought out of pure nerves.

“Hey, kid,” he began, slowly as he brushed a hand over your forehead. He grabbed something from your nightstand and brought it to your lips. “Take a drink.” You realized it was a water bottle he had picked up. “It’ll help.”

And you did as you were told, for once.

When you were done, you stuck out your bottom lip, pouting. “I’m mad at you,” you whined as you weakly smacked his face, trying to push him away.

Calm as ever, Yoongi simply grabbed your wrist, halting you. “You’re drunk.”

“You’re—I hate you.”

“Fair.”

“I’m still mad.”

“I know.”

You sniffled. You didn’t want to cry, but the alcohol in your bloodstream was impacting your emotions. “You’re mean,” you huffed, jutting out your bottom lip as it quivered. “I hate that you make me feel this way.”

A sigh left Yoongi. “I know.”

It was silent for perhaps far too long.

Then Yoongi spoke. “Can I tell you something?”

“Hmm.”

“I got a gig,” he confessed. “It’s at this underground jazz place.”

All previous sadness left you then. You couldn’t help it. You sprung forward, looking at Yoongi through droopy eyes, but the grin on your face was wide. “Really?!”

A smile tugged at Yoongi’s lips. “Yes.”

You patted his shoulder. “That’s great, Yoon,” you hummed. “You’ll blow them away.”

Another second of silence. You fell back to your bed, resting your cheek on your hand.

And it was silent, until Yoongi spoke again. “I’d like it if you’d come,” he mumbled, his voice quiet and for the first time, you questioned if this was the first time you were truly hearing Yoongi let go of that calm exterior.

“Why would you want me there?” you questioned, sulking slightly. You knew you hadn’t been the nicest to him recently. In fact, you thought you guys were drifting apart.

“When I couldn't believe in myself, I believed in you and that gave me strength,” the boy spoke, his words soft. “That’s what you told me that day on the train. Your words didn’t go over my head. I’ve cherished them just as I’ve cherished our friendship.”

His words only stung your heart. Friendship. You knew this by now but it still hurt.

“I hope you know how much you mean to me, kid,” he went on. “You’ve given me hope, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to stand beside me when I take that first step other than you.” A laugh left his lips then. “To be honest, I don’t think I can do it without you. You’re kind of my good luck charm.”

You hummed, “Good luck charm?”

Yoongi only tapped your nose in response, something he had been doing since childhood. It was a sign of affection. It was perhaps the only affection Yoongi ever really showed as hugging wasn’t his style and telling people how he felt had always been too hard for him to fathom. But you yearned for it nonetheless.

“I’ll come,” you said after a minute. “But . . . can I ask you something first?”

“Hmm.”

You opened one eye, peeking at him. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

Yoongi tilted his head to the side in thought. “Well . . . “

“Yoonie, please,” you whined, lightly slapping his chest.

That only earned you a laugh from the boy beside you. “OK, OK, what is it, kid?”

You stayed silent for only a second before you shot your hand forward, your pinky on display. “Pinky promise?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, but locked his pinky with yours and shook. “Pinky promise,” he murmured, softly. “Now what’s your question?”

“Can you kiss me?”

Your question was like a bullet going off in the darkness of your room. It silenced everything, and you felt it slowly swallow you whole.

And with your heart pounding in your throat, you took your chances (again). “I don’t want it to be with anyone else,” you went on, your voice pleading as you locked your pinky with his. “It’s my first. It’s supposed to be special.” You squeezed his pinky finger. “You’re special to me.”

But Yoongi pulled away, unlocking your pinkies in the process.

The older boy said your full name in a whisper, trailing off. He didn’t refer to you as his prodigy or as kid. He just simply called you by your name, and you knew what that meant.

“Don’t say it,” you quickly rushed out, putting a hand up. You couldn’t hear him say those words again. Your heart couldn’t take it. “I’ve been rejected enough to know what that means.”

Yoongi rested a hand in your hair. “Please,” he whispered, his voice weak and anxious, not the soft calm it normally was. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re one of my favorite people, but I just . . . you’re like a little sister to me.”

You buried your face in your hands. “God,” you cried into your hands, your voice being muffled. “This is so embarrassing.”

You felt Yoongi stroke your hair, and you just knew he was giving you that same sympathetic look he always sent your way. “You’ll have your first kiss, kid,” the boy spoke up again, breaking your heart even further. “And it’ll be with someone so much better than me. You’ll see, kid. I promise.”

He didn’t dare lock his pinky with yours this time around. He just let the silence consume you. But you didn’t care about the deafening silence; all you could hear were his words repeating in your head over and over again.

It’ll be with someone so much better than me, he had said, and you felt the urge to scream, because all you could think was, But I wanted it to be with you.

Despite the ache in your heart, you did end up going to Yoongi’s first gig. You had dressed in your nicest clothes, and gone with a smile on your face. And when he played, you felt the keys were playing to the hum of the beat of your heart. You were crazy to think that this song the boy had composed had been made for you, but you still allowed yourself to think it. Hell, you wished for it, even if, deep down, you knew it had never been meant for you.

And when his set came to a close, he glanced out at the audience, a small, strained smile on his face as his eyes searched the crowd. Only when his eyes had landed on you, did he stop searching as he let a wide grin break out on his face, and you could have sworn your heart stopped right then.

There was that wide, gummy grin that sat on his face as he bowed to the audience before he quickly rushed over to you. “You came,” he breathed out as he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you in for a hug. (Something that he never did.)

“When I told you you would always have my support, I meant it, Min Yoongi,” was all you responded with as you embraced him. And you had meant that.

Because you had never admitted it before, but you knew why you would do anything for Min Yoongi. You knew why you would always support him. You knew why your heart beat a little faster when he was near. You knew why you cared so much about his opinion. You knew what you felt for him.

You loved him.

So while Yoongi thought your friendship would continue to flourish, you weren’t sure how much of this you could take. You were sure it’d break you completely one day.

You had to fix this. You couldn’t have a life without him in it, but you also couldn’t live a life waiting for someone who would never look your way.

And then you realized one thing: you were entirely fucked.

You quickly figured out how to get over Min Yoongi. How exactly would you do this? Boys.

Although you weren’t entirely sure it helped all that much, you convinced yourself it did. So just as the school year was coming to an end, you set out on a mission: kiss a boy. And by the end of that week, you had completed it.

You’d invited Kim Namjoon—a boy in your year who just so happened to sit next to you in a few of your classes—over to your house one evening. Your parents would be out, and you were sure Seokjin would be preoccupied with Yoongi and Hoseok. So that meant, you’d be alone. Correction, you’d be alone with Namjoon and that was exactly what you wanted.

It did not take long before you hooked one leg over the boy, straddling his waist as the two of you made out on your bed. And while you didn’t hate kissing the boy, you couldn’t help but imagine you were actually kissing Yoongi instead, because you knew for a damn fact Yoongi would not be beating around the bush, too afraid to stick his tongue in your mouth.

You knew Yoongi would be gentle, but you also knew that wouldn’t last long. He’d surely end up biting your bottom lip, desperately asking for you to comply with his request before he slipped his tongue into your mouth. And you knew he’d taste just as good as he smelled.

But . . . you weren’t kissing Yoongi, instead, your first kiss was with Namjoon, and while it wasn’t bad . . . it wasn’t what you wanted. However, you wanted a distraction. You wanted more, and you were sure Namjoon didn’t mind as he had just told you he didn’t want to go into his final two years of high school with a girlfriend. Which . . . fair, you supposed. Pregaming for college?

You were fine with that.

In fact, you were entirely fine with that as you deepened the kiss, lightly tugging on his bottom lip before you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your chest only to be covered by a bra.

Namjoon tugged his bottom lip under his teeth as he glanced down at your bare skin. He was leaning toward you a second later about to connect your lips again when the door to your bedroom slammed open.

“I got another gig!” the intruder cried out in glee. “Kid—oh.”

Standing in the middle of your doorway was Min Yoongi dressed in a blank tank and baggy black sweatpants to match. His hair was a little longer now, but what stuck out the most was the look on his face as he caught you sitting on the lap of some random boy he had never met with your shirt entirely off.

Yoongi nodded his head toward Namjoon. “Get out,” he spat, his voice calm, but menacing.

You groaned at him, sliding off of your classmate. “Oh, get a grip, Yoongi,” you hissed as you slipped your shirt back on.

But Yoongi was adamant. In fact, he hadn’t even looked at you once. His narrowing gaze was on Namjoon and Namjoon only as he ordered once more, “Get out.”

Namjoon stayed quiet, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

You, however, did not keep your mouth shut. “Seriously?”

A muscle in Yoongi’s jaw twitched. “Jin!”

At that you jumped up, pulling Namjoon to his feet. “You, motherfucker!” you hissed at the older boy as you quickly shoved Namjoon out of your room. You shoved Yoongi’s chest, hard, before you waved to the boy retreating out of your house. “Bye, Joon. Call you later.”

When you both heard the front door slam shut, Yoongi set his sights on you. His jaw was locked, his eyes angry and full of a fire you had never seen before. And then came his words, “Are you fucking serious?”

You didn’t miss the way he spat his words as if they were tiny daggers aiming for your heart. Instead, you put up the front you had grown into over the years and shoved past him. “Eat me,” you muttered with malice as you made your way down the stairs.

But Yoongi didn’t leave it at that. At the bottom of the stairs, he reached you, wrapping his hand around your arm as he tugged you toward him. And with your eyes finally on him again, he asked, perhaps a little harsher now, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

A sly grin slid onto your face. “So you can make out with girls and practically finger them against your car, but I kiss a boy and the world ends?”

His jaw twitched again. “You don’t get it,” he began, his voice low so your brother wouldn’t hear. “Boys your age only want one thing. I’m trying to protect you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I can protect myself,” you protested as you ripped your arm out of his grasp. “I’m not a little girl, you know? I’m sixteen. I don’t need you to tie my shoes or block the screen when a scary part comes on during a horror movie.”

“You don’t know anything about guys like that,” Yoongi said again, not truly hearing your words.

“And you do?”

“Yes.”

“Why’s that?” you beckoned, putting your hands on your hips and tilting your head as if you were challenging him. “Because you’re one of them?”

He began to say your name.

But this time you cut him off before he could give you that look again. “Don’t,” you uttered, putting your hand up. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you anymore.”

Your words lingered in the air.

I don’t need you anymore.

Yoongi’s face softened.

He dropped his hand, taking a step back. There was this wall slowly being put up between the two of you, and you both knew it. You had felt it for a long time now, but chose to ignore it. You were sure Yoongi felt it now, too.

“What the fuck are you guys fighting about?” Seokjin’s voice intruded in on your conversation (or lack thereof).

The two of you did not turn to glance at Seokjin, though. You kept staring at each other, Yoongi’s eyes now soft and wide while you held your stance, your eyes narrowed and sharp. It was almost as if you were challenging each other to see who would let go of the other first.

You looked away first.

You stormed away from the Min boy, approaching your brother as you shot your hand out and punched him in the shoulder. “Fuck you,” you spat as your fist collided with your brother’s shoulder.

“Ow, she hit me,” Seokjin gasped, looking between the two of you. “She’s mad at you and she hit me.”

“Respectfully, Jin . . . shut the fuck up,” was all Yoongi said.

“I don’t think I will,” Seokjin scoffed, turning around to set his sights on you as you headed for the front door. “Yah—”

But you cut him off, once again. “Fuck you!” And with that, you slammed the door, walking further away from your brother and the boy who held your heart. You knew you shouldn't have said those things, but . . .

Fuck you, Jin. That was it. That was all you felt. Just—Fuck you. For what exactly? You didn’t really know.

Fuck you for intruding?

Fuck you for being your brother?

Fuck you for being friends with Min Yoongi?

Fuck you . . . for bringing him into your life.

That—

That was it.

It was the brief break before you went into your junior year of high school when you lost your virginity. And it was nothing like how you used to dream it to be.

You’d been invited to a bonfire by Jimin who had dragged Hari and Taehyung along with him, begging for you to join them as well. But you had been hesitant.

See, the thing was: Hari and Taehyung seemed to have something going on, so that meant they’d spend the entire night together while Jimin would probably be off trying to get the number of one of the girls from the cheer squad and maybe try to snatch the digits from one of their football player counterparts. That all left you to be alone. Now, you’d gotten used to being alone over the years, opting to put on this extroverted front so you didn’t feel so lonely in a crowd of people, and normally you liked that. Normally you liked being out there and aloof like your paintings . . . but you hadn’t been feeling it that night.

The reason for your dull attitude? Min Yoongi.

You hadn’t spoken to Yoongi in two weeks. You knew he'd be leaving for college soon, but you were stubborn. You’d ignored him when he’d come over to the house to hang out with your older brother. Even when he called your name to get your attention, you’d turn your head, nose held high as you ran off to your bedroom and locked the door.

It wasn’t that you hated him. You just couldn’t bear to see him.

So your only option? Get drunk and get over it.

And you had gotten drunk, and you had tried to get over it (to get over him), by getting under someone else. So on the night of the bonfire, you lost your virginity in the back of a beat-up car to a boy you never even learned the name of.

Truth be told, you didn’t want to learn his name. That would make it real—the fact you had lost your virginity and it wasn’t with the person you loved.

You’d forced yourself to tell the unnamed boy that it was good and you had a fun time. Then you’d gotten dressed, texted your friends that you’d head home by yourself, and left.

You’d ended up back at your house around three in the morning, completely sober and not really caring if you slammed the door a little. Your parents were away for the week on business or whatever, and you were sure Seokjin wouldn’t be home, so who cared?

But, just your luck, when you had gone to your room, changed into a sweatshirt and shorts, then made your way to your backyard to dip your feet in the pool, you caught sight of the one person you had been trying to avoid.

“Do you ever go home?” you groaned out as you stared at Min Yoongi, who was currently shooting hoops in your backyard.

Yoongi stilled, his back stiff. But he didn’t turn to look at you.

So you went on, “It’s three in the morning, you know? You can sleep.”

“I couldn’t,” was all he said. “Boyfriend drop you off?”

“More like fuck buddy,” you lied.

A scoff came from Yoongi. “You’re too young for that.”

“Like you don’t fuck?”

He murmured your name, trailing off, giving you that same look. He looked at you as if you were still that same stupid little girl who he gave a slice of pizza to while you stood in the doorway, trying to get his attention. But you weren’t. That wasn’t you anymore, and you wanted him to know that.

“You don’t get to tell me how to live my life,” you stated, firmly. “I am not a little girl anymore.”

Yoongi gave you a sympathetic look, and you wanted to deck him. “You’re only sixteen,” he spoke, calm as ever. “You deserve more than . . . boys like that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course, you’d say that. Shocker,” you huffed as you plopped down at the edge of the pool, your feet dangling in the water.

It was silent for only a second before you felt something smack into your back. You released a gasp and looked for the source, finding that Yoongi had just bounced the basketball off your back.

“What the fuck?!” you yelled, not caring if your snobby neighbors heard.

“Sorry,” Yoongi hummed, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “It slipped.”

You felt nuclear. “Bullshit!” you shouted as you sprung to your feet and lunged for the older boy. You jumped at him, locking your arms around his neck and hooking your legs around his waist, trying to tackle him to the ground. “You’re a piece of shit, Min Yoongi!”

A laugh only erupted from Yoongi. “You know, this is amusing?” he chuckled, swinging you from side to side. “It’s like carrying around a backpack or a baby koala.”

You were not impressed. “You’re a bitch!” you yelled again, pounding your fist into his chest, but doing no damage whatsoever.

“Me?” he questioned, adding a light teasing scoff to his words. “You’re the one who’s been ignoring me.”

“Because you don’t know when to give it a drink!”

“You’re the one climbing me like a goddamn tree!”

“Yeah! Because you left me no choice!”

The boy suddenly pried you off of him, clasping his hands around your wrists as he bent down to be eye level with you. His jaw was tight and his eyes were narrowed. He’d never looked at you like this before.

You stilled in his grasp.

And then he spoke, “What choice have you ever given me?”

“What?”

“Don’t do that,” he grumbled. “You know what I mean.”

You tore your wrists out of his grasp and he let you. “No, I don’t.”

“For years, I’ve known you had a crush on me, and I tried to be careful about it,” he began, his jaw still tight. “I’ve tried to be your friend. I’ve tried to tell you that I can’t be anything more because you’re you and I don’t ever want to hurt you.” He took a deep breath in. “And I know that’s, in turn, what’s been hurting you—our friendship.”

You stayed silent.

Yoongi only continued, “You are my favorite person I think possibly in this entire world, but . . . I can't give myself to you in the way you want.” He blinked, his eyes glossy. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you’ve given me no choice.”

You’ve given me no choice, and you knew you hadn’t.

“Instead, you avoid me and get mad at me for this, and I don’t know what to do anymore about it,” he confessed, the night making his eyes appear woeful. “So I’ll ask you again, kid, what other choice do I have?”

And for once in your life, you didn’t know what to say.

So the only response you could fathom was, “I’m sorry.” And then the floodgates opened, and the tears spilled, your sobs soon swallowing you whole. “I—I’m so sorry, Yoon. I wish I could stop it. I’m sorry. I’m so—“

That was all it took for Yoongi to let down the tough exterior he always wore. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he slowly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and hugging you tightly. He didn’t like hugs, but he’d put up with them for you.

You slowly embraced him, weakly clutching onto his shirt as you buried your face into his chest. You hadn’t known exactly what pushed you over the edge. Perhaps it was everything all at once.

And then everything really did hit you all at once.

You realized what happened that night. You realized you’d lost your virginity in a way that made you feel worthless. You realized you’d been hurting Yoongi just as you’d been hurting yourself. And then you realized he had graduated. He’d be leaving for college soon. He wouldn’t be here anymore.

Yoongi would be gone, and you’d still be there, right where he left you.

That, perhaps, was the second time you felt your heart truly break. Because Yoongi meant more to you than that. His friendship had brought beautiful technicolor to your life. He’d been the one to support you when no one else had. He’d been there, and he wouldn’t be anymore in a few months.

How could you let him go?

And then, for the millionth time that night, you embarrassed yourself again. You rasped in a loud breath and sobbed, “I lost my virginity tonight.”

“Oh.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, it’s just—“ he pulled back, slightly, to meet your eyes— “I didn’t expect that.”

“Well, it happened.”

“Was it—“ he made a face— “good?”

You couldn’t help it, you whined out a sob. “No!” you slapped your hands against your face. “It was awful, and he smelled like fucking asparagus!”

“Oh.”

“I know!”

Next came a pat on your shoulder. “It’ll get better,” he reassured. “Like wine . . . better with age.”

Your hands slid down your face. “You are the worst person I know.”

A laugh erupted from Yoongi, revealing his gums as his shoulders shook. “You love me.”

“I loathe you,” you corrected, finger high in the air.

“Yeah, kid—“ he tapped your nose— “I loathe you, too.”

Your face slowly fell. Not because he had said something wrong, but because of the thoughts that consumed your brain. In a few months, you wouldn’t get to hear him joke with you like that. You wouldn’t get to have him anymore.

“You wanna know the worst part about it?” you questioned, eyes flicking up to meet his.

Yoongi nodded, growing solemn.

“I should be more upset about losing my virginity to some loser, but instead, I’m here trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’ll be gone soon,” you confessed, trying not to feel like a stupid child.

Yoongi nodded again, his eyes now on his shoes. “I’ll visit.”

“But . . . I don’t want you to leave,” you mumbled, weakly.

A hint of a warm smile lifted onto Yoongi’s face, but he didn’t glance up to look at you. “I’ll miss you, too, kid,” he whispered, his voice quiet and weak almost as if he were having trouble getting the words out.

And when he did glance up, his eyes were slightly reddened, but you didn’t pull any attention to it.

“Are we . . . OK?” he asked the question the both of you were avoiding.

You sniffled. “We have to be,” you affirmed. “You’re my hope, Yoon. We have to be OK.”

Yoongi pulled you into him again, consuming your body with his as he rested his chin on top of your head and let you bury your face into his chest. You’d let him hold you forever if you could. But for now . . . this was enough.

“I’ll always be a call away,” he mumbled into your hair.

“I know.”

“And I’ll always pick up.”

“I know.”

Silence for a second.

Then, he spoke again, “You give me strength, kid.”

“That’s all I’ve ever hoped for.”

You felt him nod.

“Just promise me one thing?” you questioned.

“Anything for my prodigy.”

You snorted, but your heart felt heavy. “Just promise me no matter what happens even if we fight and never see each other again that you’ll always remember you have my support,” you spoke, softly and quietly. “Never feel like it’s a burden. It’s free and unconditional. It’s for you to keep forever, even if you end up hating me in the end. I will always support you.”

“I promise.”

“No—” you reached for his pinky— “pinky promise me.”

Yoongi snorted, softly, but nevertheless, locked his pinky with yours and shook.

“Promise.”

Silence once again. This time it wasn’t uncomfortable, until . . .

“Well—” Yoongi huffed into your hair— “B-ball time. Wanna scrimmage? One-on-one?”

You snorted and slapped his chest. “I hate you.”

Yoongi scrunched his nose before he briefly pressed his lips to your forehead. “You love me, kid.”

You faked a gag, which caused Yoongi to burst out laughing.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” he laughed, shaking his head as the wide gummy grin never left his face.

You only smiled. “Ditto.”

As the two of you spent the early hours of the morning fighting to win the one-on-one basketball match you’d started, you made peace with it all. If this were to be the last happy moment with him, you’d cherish it. No matter what. You’d cherish it forever.

And . . . you did.

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taeandpuppies · 4 months

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What your cameraroll looks like if you're dating Min Yoongi

#bts #bts imagines #bts scenario #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #suga imagine #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #bts fluff #bts scenarios #suga scenario #yoongi imagines

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mykoreanlove · 3 months

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🏀 Ballin‘

Yoongi loved meeting you on an abandoned playground late at night after he was done with the day‘s struggles.

He once found this place randomly on a nightly stroll. There was a basketball court, dimly lit and sheltered from the world - ideal for his private getaway with you.

His day had been packed with different schedules, each one more stressful than the next. Poor boy didn’t even have time to change into his beloved #3 jersey.

Yoongi practically ran over here because he needed the release. He needed to blow of some steam with his favorite sport. He needed to move his body and forget about his brain.

But what he needed the most was you.

He watched you miss shot after shot with a sly smirk on his lips.

Yoongi loved to observe you, especially in moments you felt unnoticed. He saw the frustration in your face - the knitted brows paired with your tense shoulders, alarming him that you were pissed off.

„Seems like you need a little motivation.“

You turned to face him.

God, he was beautiful. The long hair slid back accentuating his unique features, his chic clothes which made him look like a million bucks and the cunning smile on his lips made him irresistible to you.

„Each time you make the ball go through the hoop I’m going to kiss you.“

You bit your lip, trying your best to hide your smile. What your beloved Yoongi didn’t know was that you were an ace at basketball, only pretending to fail to get closer to him.

You batted your eyelashes at him, smiling sweetly.

„Let’s hope I make it.“

You turned around with precision and threw the ball - right into the hoop.

„Wooohoo“, you jumped up and down happily, pretending to be lucky.

Yoongi raised a brow, catching on too quickly. He walked over to you and put his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

His scent was intoxicating, he was like a drug to you.

Yoongi leaned in for a kiss, his lips brushing yours slightly while whispering.

„Beginner‘s luck, huh?“

His voice was raspy, even deeper than usual. Goosebumps formed on your skin, desire was spreading through your veins like a wildfire.

You crashed your lips on his, pulling him closer until there was nothing left in between you. He tasted delicious, like a mixture of cognac and mint. His tongue danced with yours, fighting for dominance in this game for two.

Yoongi broke off the kiss, taking a deep breath.

„Don’t be too greedy, baby. You only shot once.“

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest, too needy to be played with like that.

„You don’t want to kiss me? Fine.“

You let go of him and turned around but felt him yank you right back. Your hands flat on his broad chest, your head looking up into his dangerously glistening eyes. His tongue glided over his lips, not breaking eye contact once.

„Actually… I wanna do way more than kiss you, baby.“

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astayinwonderland · 6 months

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BTS Min Yoongi… | incoming smutty thoughts | MDNI

No but hear me out

Yoongi letting you ride his face and use him however you please. He knows you are tired, frustrated, and stressed. The only thing he wants is to make you feel good. Tongue flat against your needy cunt. He hums in approval as your hips move back and forth, the vibration of his humming adds a new feeling that brings you over the edge. “Ngh, mmmm, yesss… yessss,” his words muffled by your pussy grinding on his face. He sucks your clit so fucking good and when you are about to cum, he flips you over and his fingers are in you. Curling them while his tongue is on your sensitive bud. “Let go, make a mess for me. Fuck… look at you. Cum all over me, baby.”

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts yoongi #yoongi drabble #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #yoongi smut #suga smut #suga scenario #suga imagine

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poutyniall · 5 months

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The urge to have Yoongi's hard dick inside me, cockwarming him while feeling his hot, broken breaths on my skin, his moans rolling off his tongue and out of his swollen, bitten lips right next to my ear, grab a handful of his hair to yank his head back to expose the delicate skin of his neck at the mercy of my lips and tongue and teeth whilst his cute, lil ass is being fucked by a guy and his cock is squeezed by my tight walls

#i'm sorry #don't mind me #yoongi smut #suga smut #yoongi imagine #suga imagine #yoongi scenarios #suga scenario #suga #min yoongi #yoongi #agust d #min suga

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muniimyg · 8 months

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+ extra ! first kiss

series m.list

note: the long-awaited first kiss extra... i'm so happy </3 enj !! miss u guys every freaking day :')

taglist requests are closed !

taglist: @j3nnie101 @tarahardcore @bbsantc @jeonqkooks-main @whoa-jo @ellesalazar @4ksj @joonsjuice @taegijns @avtrns @taegix94 @bloopkook @jihopesjoint @firesighgirl @vantxx95 @damn-u-min-yoongi @yoongukie-ff @hopeworldjimin @thisisaburnphone @pb-n-juju @xjiminsthighsx @miss-rainy-days @percyjacksonlovesannabethchase @whitefoxgirl @slutforgeeseung @lovelytaes-blog

This feeling is entirely new to you.

Never in your life have you ever felt so frustrated with yourself and so concerned for someone’s well-being. It’s your fault. If you had just packed a sweater than maybe Yoongi wouldn’t have given you his hoodie. Maybe he wouldn’t be sick and missing out on his games—maybe he would’ve been winning.

Alas, here you are.

Standing outside his door with his favourite soup, three boxes of herbal teas, and your lesson prep just in case you would have time to spare. Although, if you had really thought about it.. There was no use in bringing your work. As if you’d get anything done with Yoongi around! Even if his fever ran close to Pneumonia; he’d simply cough up a pick-up line in an attempt to make you smile.

Truth be told, you’ve done this before. You’ve stood outside Yoongi’s apartment with his essentials when you two were just friends.. But it’s different now. You feel it—you know it. This time around, you’re not only needed but wanted.

He wants you here.

He asked for you here.

He needs you here.

With that, you take a deep breath and convince yourself one last time: it’s not your fault. He’s sick, yes, but germs are germs. It’s not like he’s dying—

“What a sight. I feel better already, Ace.”

You blink.

Yoongi had been on the other side of the door, waiting for you to arrive. Once he heard your footsteps, he held off for three minutes before caving.

He had to be with you.

He’s leaning against his door frame, wearing a baggy white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His black hair falls just above his eyes and the longer parts are somewhat tucked behind his ears. It’s flat and damp. By the looks of it, he’s freshly out of the shower. If his complexion wasn’t so pale, or if his nose wasn’t so runny, and if his voice wasn’t so congested—you’d be on your knees.

Instead, your heart aches a little. He looks so tired and almost weak. His smile is the same and the way he reaches for you is too. If anything, you should have known he’d use his sickness as an advantage.

You pout at the sight and he pouts in response. Silently, he tilts his head, waiting for you to come in his embrace.

Just like that, you can’t even act like you’re still mad. You want to fold so bad the moment he offers a soft smile. It’s like all the fuming feelings suddenly disappear.. You’re not that easy.

You offer him a glare and shake your head.

“I just came to drop this off,” You hold the food in front of him. His eyebrows knit together and the corner of his lips curve into a smirk.

He leans his body forward, closes his eyes, and shakes his head at you. “Liar.”

“I’m serious.”

“And I’m sick,” he sings, taking the food from you. He quickly grabs your wrist and tugs you to his body. Crashing into his embrace, he wraps his arms around you and pats the top of your head.

“You brought your lesson prep. I know you. Stay—”

You plop your chin on his chest and look up at him with sad eyes. “You’re sick.”

“You’re here.”

A beat.

Yoongi says it so softly. So automatic and honestly? Romantic. There’s a ring to it and it does more than make your heart beat fast. Sometimes you can’t believe the words he says to you. How plain and simple they are… Yet, his words easily change everything between you two. It’s always been this way. Yoongi has always been good with words and you’ve always been good at falling in love with them.

“Did your heart skip a beat? Are you not mad at me anymore?” He teases, attempting to lighten the mood. You frown in return.

“T-that doesn’t change the fact that you’re sick,” you stutter, trying to compose yourself. He groans at you as you push away from him. Yoongi then backs up and opens the door wider for you.

“I’ll stand here all night,” Yoongi challenges. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Just get inside, take care of me, and fall in love with me—”

Your eyes widen.

Other people in your year live in this building! Is he insane?

“Okay, okay,” you shove past him, shutting the door. “Do you have to say that stuff so loudly? You have neighbours, you know?”

He grins. “I know.”

You end up falling asleep on the couch with him.

Nothing much happened in between the little spat coming in and eating together. Actually, he refused to eat unless you ate with him. For every bite you took, he’d take as well. Even in times like these, Yoongi made sure to take care of you.

When you stir awake, you peel his arms off of you and make your way to make some tea. His kitchen must be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. It’s practically always neat and it had real things. Like, his kitchen is filled with proper cooking equipment! His kettle is this aesthetic glass one and it makes you think of stupid things like—is this what our kitchen would look like? The sunlight seeping through the window, a nice iland for counter space, and the fridge covered with magnets and photos of your favourite memories together?

Picturing life with Yoongi has always been fun. It’s what you’ve been dreaming of for the past three years… But now that you’re here; standing in the very kitchen you’ve been daydreaming about… It feels unreal. It feels scary and like a sick joke. You’re so afraid of waking up and this not being your reality. More than anything, you wish for it to be. Nothing and no one has ever made you love life as much as he has. Though it’s terrifying, you have never loved anyone the way you love Yoongi. It’s fucking crazy just how much more mature and beautiful it unravels itself..

You don’t want it with anyone else.

You don’t want to stand in someone else’s kitchen.

“Don’t go,” Yoongi stands in front of his door with his arms crossed. Turning the other cheek, he declares; “I’m sick.”

“I know you’re sick—”

“Sick of not being with you.”

“I hate you,” you laugh, hitting him playfully. He catches your wrists and tugs you close. He sways you two side to side for a moment.

“You love me. You just won’t admit it yet.”

Your shoulders drop and you glare at him. He offers a cheeky smile and puts his hands up in surrender. “Don’t be mad at me! I’m sick.”

“Aki, you’re all better!” you exclaim, beginning to find this all too silly. You place the back of your hand on his forehead to triple-check. “You feel normal. We even checked your temperature with the thermometer about an hour ago. You ate. You even slept in until 12PM! I have to go for my closing—”

“I like spending time with you like this,” he confesses. “Maybe I should get sick more often.”

“Don’t you dare!”

He sticks his tongue out. “No promises.. So fine, leave. Go away. I’m gonna find ways to get sick again so we can have more of these sleepovers—”

“You promised me!” you urge, sticking your pinky out. “Promise me.” This time, your tone is stern and it’s really time for you to go.

He remains difficult.

“I’m running late, Yoongi. Hurry up and promise me.”

Your annoyed face causes him to sigh in defeat. Even so, he clasps his pinky with yours. Naturally, he lets his fingers intertwine with yours. “Promise,” he mumbles. “Geez, all this shit and no kiss goodbye.”

“What was that?” you ask, trying to process what he had just uttered.

“Hmm?”

“Whatever,” you laugh, moving past him to head out the door. Before you open it, he tugs you back to him. For a moment, you forgot that you two were still holding hands.

“No kiss goodbye?” he flirts, leaning in.

You scrunch your nose at him.

“You’re sick, mister.”

“No, I’m not. My girlfriend told me I’m all better. Yeah, she’s even leaving for work and won’t kiss me goodbye—”

“Girlfriend,” you gasp. “Bold word choice.”

He pretends to contemplate. “Yeah, I mean.. Don’t really know what to call the girl that got me sick and then came over to take care of me—oh, and she has this huge crush on me—”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

And before you can even stop yourself; your lips crash onto his. It’s soft and slow, but ever so needy. At first, Yoongi��s eyes widen but they easily flutter shut. It happens so quick! He kisses you with so much intention and for the first time in his life; he feels like he’s about to black out. How he sinks into the kiss and how the moment was just so right.. Fuck, would he be able to function after this?

Yoongi feels like he's peaking right now.

Nothing was better than this.

Therefore, it was complete torture when you pulled away. It ends too fast. It ends with his lips tingling and craving for more. Meanwhile, you’re laughing at him, as he stands there starstruck.

“Goodbye, boyfriend.”

You say it as a joke and head out the door. Once it shuts, Yoongi touches his lips, unable to process what had just happened. Did you just kiss him? Did he go to heaven for a moment? Why was it so perfect?

Oh, he was falling for you.

There was no way he could deny it from here on out.

It has to be you.

#bts fic #bts scenario #yoongi scenario #yoongi f2l #yoongi fic #suga fic #suga f2l #suga scenario #suga imagine #bts imagine

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jinkookspencil · 2 years

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how the bts members would use you to comfort/relax themselves

disclaimer/explanation: as explained in the title! basically how the bts members would use their S.O. to relax themselves in a very coupley way - tried my best not to use stereotypical answers like “Jungkook would listen to music with his s.o. / Jin would play video games with his s.o. / Namjoon would hike / etc" - it's more couples-based, things they'd only ask from their partner, things only their partner could do vs the other things that they could do on their own or with friends. (my first ot7 post! so nervous about this one so let me know any feedback if you think some are accurate/inaccurate! I got so carried away when writing Jin's, I almost want to turn it into a fic)

Namjoon: maybe predictable, but he just wants someone to talk to and just wants to listen. talking out his problems would help him sort out his thoughts and thus relax, so he'd do that, but when he really needs to relax and get his mind in a different zone, if he’s not biking or going out into nature, then he might ask you to talk about something. just simple topics like how your day was or what you ate that day, but sometimes he'd even ask you prompt-like questions out of the blue - questions about your childhood or your favorite memories, for exmaple - just listening to you talk and converse with him (but YOU being in control of the conversation) would relax him, plus he'd enjoy getting to know more about you in the process. this would also be a HUGE source of inspiration for him...

Jin: In an effort to relax and calm down, Jin would squeeze parts of your body like a stress ball. At times, Jin doesn't seem like a "toucher" - he can barely make eye contact with Yoongi, and he doesn't hug the members as much as some of the other members do, but we've also seen him grab and squeeze Jungkook's butt a number of times during rehearsals. I think it's because Jin would save physical touch for his S.O. In the right place, especially in instances where he can’t talk, he’d do the same to comfort himself and of course, you’d let him and give him a reassuring look when he does so, because you know that’s all he needs. He’d squeeze your butt, upper arm, and thigh, sometimes just once, but he would also do it softly and playfully at times - like to the rhythm of a song playing in the background or just three quick squeezes. In public places when it comes to his idol life, Jin would only do this when he knows for a FACT that no one can see him - you would be in the corner of a dark room at some event, some wouldn't even be able to tell you were standing next to each other and there is no possibility for any cameras to be around you - and he’d just squeeze you to comfort himself or place his hand on your bum. In a more domestic, real situation - like at dinner with your parents, he'd give you a quick squeeze on your thigh under the table to calm himself down, and your hand would meet his as your fingers intertwine...

Yoongi - Yoongi would love it if you would just let him be. He’ll know exactly what he needs and wants depending on his situation and mood and he'll tell it to you directly. And if you give it to him? He would be OBSESSED with you. Yoongi might ask for alone time and some space, or he'd ask to do something for you - an act of service, and thus love, such as running an errand or cooking and cleaning. Don't get offended if he needs his space, and when it comes to the act of service, even if it seems like he's doing something for you it's really for him - it’ll help him relax and sort out his thoughts. As long as you don't argue and push to help by doing something YOUR WAY, he'll love it. Just allow him to do what he needs to do and he’ll relax.

Hoseok - Though he has extroverted tendencies, Hobi could be a very domestic partner at times. He’d ask you to take care of some chores or errands he wouldn’t want to do or can’t think of when he’s stressed, like taking care of food by either ordering in or cooking (preferably his comfort food). BUT touch would be surefire way to get Hobi to relax. He wouldn't be shy to ask you to give him a massage, or just touch him in a relaxing way, whether it's neck/shoulder massages, back scratches, or foot rubs. He'd lightly converse with you during it - and it'd all be innocent, he'd see this form of touching in these circumstances as something that should be separate from anything sexual. Hobi would also definitely relax by being pampered - run him a hot bath, put a face mask on him, apply your skincare routine to his face... and he'd forget his worries. While Hobi would ask you for all of the methods mentioned, he would appreciate it so much more if you did it without him having to ask you to - he'd fall head over heels in love.

Jimin - Even though Tae is the “cinephile” of the group I think Jimin would love to watch a romantic movie with his S.O. to unwind. It has to be something comforting - either a comfort film he knows and loves like The Notebook or something that's just feel-good or romantic in some way, especially rom-coms (or films with the found family trope). Plus, it'll help if the ambiance of the room is *perfect*- it'd preferably be in the middle of the night, with some relaxing drinks, comforters, and possibly LED lights - your company would be just as reassuring as his favorite films. Another scenario that would relax Jimin is if his S.O. did a fashion show for him with the outfits - just trying on different outfits that they bought that day or stuff in the closet - it'd distract him from whatever's stressing him, he would find you both adorable and sexy, and he would even ask you to do it if he felt he needed it... I feel like that could lead "somewhere" too, which could also relax him, so take that scenario however you want to.

Taehyung - I initially thought Tae is the type to straight up ask for what he wants but then I remembered he’s a Capricorn like me so it might be a bit hard for him to do so. He needs someone who will be able to catch whenever he needs to be relaxed and knows how to act accordingly. A number of techniques could work with him depending on what’s bugging him or whether he’s sad/stressed/angry/etc - and if you just *get it* it'd do the trick - he'll love you and he'll appreciate you, even if he doesn't realize what you're doing right away. He might ask you for advice or come to you in a state of worry - that's his main sign that he really needs to be relaxed or reassured but he won't realize it. Reassuring touches (grazing his arm or ruffling his hair at the right time) would work but at the end of the day, nothing would work more than words of affirmation. Just hearing that he’s loved and supported would really help him relax. But you should be honest. Tae would melt at someone telling him the right words just when he needed to hear them.

Jungkook - At the end of the long day, Jungkook just wants to unwind by laying down on your lap, having you run your fingers through his hair, and listening to you read something out loud to him. At times like that, he wouldn’t want you to talk to him - he’d want to pay attention to you when you talk about what’s on your mind, and he's a good listener. And whenever he wants to talk about what's on his mind, he will - it could be a bit hard for him to express exactly what he wants to though, and he needs to sort out his thoughts on his own. So to relax, he’d zone out to a story that he doesn’t have to pay attention to, just relaxing or even drifting off to the sound of your voice and your touch. But he'll also surprise you at certain moments as you read, just when you thought he's zoning out or even asleep, he'd interject with a question or a comment about the story, saying comments like "hey doesn’t the character wield a sword?” or "wait what's the name of the girl's brother?". (he'd definitely be more of an audiobook guy.) I wrote a short fic featuring this scenario actually! He’d also DEFINITELY be a squeezer and a toucher like Jin. Everything I said for Jin applies to Jungkook as well, but I think Jungkook would do it even more often than Jin would. His touches would be lazy/absentminded or more intentional - he'd start getting anxious out of nowhere and would either seek you out and cuddle or just feel you while talking to you, letting his hands roam over your body, or he'd let his hands roam while already cuddling and laying with you, just to reassure himself. Sometimes he'd walk around the house and casually come up to you and touch you - whether it's a kiss, a rub on the arm/thigh, a spank - he'd do it all the time and it will always help him relax, even doing it when he doesn't realize he needs to calm down.

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btsmosphere · 1 year

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Ride or Die | MYG

> part of the Highway to You series <

~summary: yoongi isn’t sure when he became so accustomed to your ineffably cheery presence. until he sees that innocence crack, he hadn’t realised how far he would go to keep it there. ~pairing: yoongi x reader ~word count: 2.9k ~genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual mafia!au, friends to lovers ~rating: pg15 ~warnings: violence, domestic violence/bad home environment (not yoongi), alcoholism (again, not yoongi), mainly yoongi being caring af but fighting some Feelings

~a/n: so, here is the announcement of me embarking on a project! since (and in fact, long before) posting Highway to You, I had so much planned out for this couple- their backstory, their deep bond and their future. and I think it’s perfect for a drabble/non-chronological series this installment is set before Highway to You, much nearer the start of their story. I will be making a masterlist for this series to put the timeline in order, rather than the order of posting, as I will put out parts whenever I have one. they may be from any point in this couple’s story! I predict it will be a lot of hurt/comfort, my poor babies<3 for now, enjoy the barely proof-read beginning of the expanded universe!

A buzzing stole Yoongi’s attention. He frowned around his mouthful, his next balanced on the chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

Dutifully pausing, he twisted his head to see his phone screen which lay beside his bowl. Illuminated on the screen was your name.

Now, he wouldn’t pick up for anyone. Not in the middle of dinner. But he had wondered what you had got up to when you stopped texting him earlier. You had seen each other earlier, texted on and off before your messages trailed to a stop…

He could call you back.

He lowered the chopsticks and reached for the phone.

His frown only deepened when he picked up to a strange quiet, rather than your cheery greeting. Pulling it closer to his ear, he caught a shaky exhale crackle from the speaker.

“Y/N?”

A couple more breaths fuzzed against his ear. They were shaky.

“Yoongi?”

And your voice was no better – Yoongi was already sitting straighter, bracing himself against something unfamiliar in your tone. You weren’t meant to sound like that. Those high notes in your voice had been extinguished.

“Yoongi?” you repeated, whispering but your voice still cracked. “Are you there?”

He had been too stunned into silence to respond, he realised.

You always sounded like you were smiling. Why did you sound so scared?

“I’m here,” he spoke past the sudden tightness of his throat. “What’s going on?”

“I…”

You trailed off, and Yoongi was leaning forward in his seat, spare hand gripping the edge of the table. Desperate to know, his breaths grew shorter despite the fact he was the one safely home over a nice dinner.

“Can you- can you come here?” you tried, wincing at your own words.

Yoongi was already on his feet.

“Are you at your place?”

He was grabbing a jacket, stuffing shoes on.

“Y-yeah.”

He had only been to yours when he walked you back, had never gone inside. Usually you both preferred to hang out elsewhere, and he hadn’t questioned it. At least it meant he knew where to get to you now.

“I’ll stay on the phone with you, okay? Do you want that?”

“Please,” you said, nearly a whimper.

Yoongi’s door slammed shut behind him, feet pounding to the stairway down his building. A moment after your words, a muffled crash sounded from his phone. His feet moved faster.

“What was that?”

Fumbling with his keys, he took too long unchaining his bike. The moment he got it free, he threw his leg over and pulled away without hesitation, looking carelessly over his shoulder as he entered the road.

The silence over his phone spoke too loudly.

“Y/N?” he called again, “you there? What was that noise?”

“I’m here…”

Just the words let Yoongi’s chest deflate, a fraction more focus returning to the road ahead of him.

“It’s my brother,” you spoke quietly.

It didn’t take long for the cogs in Yoongi’s head to turn around, click into an uncomfortable place.

“Did he- what’s he doing?”

A sick sort of feeling was climbing Yoongi’s insides, something dark lodging in the back of his mind. His feet pressed harder, pedalling with all his might.

When your voice returned in his ear, it was no more than a breath. He knew you must have the receiver pressed right against your mouth, could hear the way you cowered without seeing it.

“I can’t go out there. I’m… I’m in my room.”

“Stay there,” he told you, “the door’s locked?”

“Yes.”

“He can’t open it?”

“I-I don’t think so.”

“I’m almost there, hold on.”

And Yoongi willed his words into life. His legs burned as he finally pedalled down the final stretch to your road.

There was your block. Not bothering to chain his bike, he practically threw it aside without another thought – only to get to you. What he would find on the other side of your door, he didn’t know, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you face that alone.

Feet hammering up the stairs, his breath was short as he pressed the phone to his cheek again.

“I’m almost there, I’m right outside.”

The reply he got was another series of loud crashes, crackling from his speakers and making him pull the phone from his ear. In the aftermath, a much quieter noise could be heard as it cleared. Short gasps from you.

Yoongi pulled himself around onto your floor at last, and the next crash that rang out could be heard through the door.

Though he had sprinted, he didn’t spare a moment for breath as he reached the door, instead raising his fist and beginning to hammer against the wood. Adrenaline fuelled his movements, chest heaving and phone still clutched tight in his other hand.

Noise from inside had ceased. Yoongi kept knocking.

Being in an area like this, your door was probably secure enough. He wasn’t sure he could kick down something this thick, but he was sure as hell going to try if he didn’t get an answer soon.

Hopefully your brother would think it was a neighbour, irritated at the noise. Maybe he would open up just to placate them. Maybe you could somehow get to the door? But he didn’t want you to take risks.

Before he need wonder any further, the solid surface beneath his fist suddenly gave way.

Exhaling sharply and stepping back on instinct, he was faced with a taller man blocking the doorframe. He blocked the way, an arm on both the doorframe and the door itself. But for all he was large, he was drunk.

Yoongi stepped forwards assertively, and the man made way for him without thinking.

“What are you-”

Yoongi ignored your brother, walking inside with purpose. Even if he didn’t know exactly where he was going from his brief ventures to your house, he wouldn’t let a hint of weakness give him away right now.

Crossing the kitchen, where he noted shards of broken glass and ceramic digging themselves into the bottom of his trainers, he was saved the trouble of having to find you.

Poking your head round the door, your wide eyes met Yoongi’s. Quickly they travelled to your brother behind him, the fear unmistakeable. You pulled your phone close to your chest, shrinking into yourself.

Your brother finally seemed to catch on.

“Who is this?” he thundered, question aimed at you.

Thumping steps sounded behind Yoongi, who was only just in time to beat him to your door, where he whirled around to block his way to you.

To his surprise, your brother didn’t stop when faced with an entire human as an obstacle. Yoongi found himself forced a step back, the slightly taller man’s eyes not even on him but glaring at where you stood behind him, even as he pushed against Yoongi’s chest.

“Yoongi!” you cried, and he longed to stop time and take the fear from your voice.

But time, of course, pressed on – and your brother tried to as well. At his back where he was pressed against your bedroom door, Yoongi felt you pushing bodily against it to keep him out.

“Who the fuck is this, Y/N?” he yelled, and for a moment it made you flinch, the pressure on the door waning behind Yoongi.

He focussed on holding his ground, getting your brother away from you.

From here, Yoongi could easily smell alcohol, much too strong on your brother’s booming breath when he yelled. It was vile, but it lent him one advantage of your brother’s somewhat lacking motor functions. And Yoongi knew he was stronger than he looked.

Bringing his arms up, Yoongi shoved him sharply away, quickly striding across the gap he created to muscle the bigger man further into the house. He was all gangly limbs, but they were useless and uncontrolled in his intoxication.

This didn’t stop him from trying, however. A hand swiped at his face, the other trying to grasp at his neck. For a terrifying moment, he succeeded, hand tightening with determination-

It only lasted a second, his foot hitting the sofa Yoongi had backed him into. Toppling over, he landed on the softer surface of the couch before crashing to the floor.

Though still conscious, he seemed shaken, or maybe intimidated enough to have given in.

Yoongi stood over him, chest heaving.

Some overwhelming cocktail of desperation to keep you safe and adrenaline from the scuffle thrummed through him. With a start, he realised where his fingers hovered over his pocket. He felt the knife against his leg, where he had tucked it earlier. Just in case.

He never wanted to use it in front of you if he could help it.

He forced a breath out, curling his itchy hand into a fist.

A shaky breath from behind him brought him back. Like a camera suddenly zooming out, he stepped back from your brother, the fight.

“Yoongi?”

Your voice was still a tight whisper, but it caught your brother’s attention quite clearly. His head lifted, lolling slightly but his eyes were searching.

“Come on,” Yoongi instructed, not turning his eyes from the threat just yet. He held an arm out behind him, gesturing for you to move across.

On quick feet, you finally left your room and crossed behind Yoongi, his arm still forming a barrier between you and your brother. With you safely nearing the door, Yoongi backed away too, each of you keeping your eyes on the man you left alone in the apartment.

Yoongi was the first to turn around. You felt cold as you watched your brother in the middle of the floor, surrounded by debris and eyes locked firmly back on you.

The door closed with a snap, Yoongi’s eyes trained searchingly on you. You blinked at the spot you had been staring at.

Hardly breathing, you turned your eyes up to Yoongi, disbelieving sadness painted there.

The moment he saw the shine swimming in your eyes, he stepped forwards and opened his arms without a second thought. Some pool of gravity opened between you, falling together and into his arms in the same surge.

No sound came from the apartment behind him, so Yoongi let you both breathe for a moment. He clutched you to him, relishing the feeling of your embrace and letting it cleanse the ugly memory of the body fighting against him moments before.

Your breath was falling against his neck, face pressing in to him. In kind, he tilted his head to tuck you under his chin.

Eyes pointed at the heavens, he breathed.

But the looming presence of the door behind him wouldn’t stop burning at his back. Resisting the urge to look over his shoulder, he loosened his grip, patting your shoulder.

Reluctantly, you took the cue.

Your walk home saw Yoongi pushing his bike, you at his side. He didn’t mention it, but he couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers twisted together.

“Wanna get on?” he asked, once you were a couple of streets away.

Your fingers paused. Pleased, he brought his gaze away from them and to your face. It was like you were blinking away that drawn, worried look that didn’t belong on your face. Instead, your surprise lent you something closer to the excitable hope that normally lived in your eyes.

“And leave you to walk?”

Yoongi couldn’t help the fond smile, knowing you would respond first by thinking of him.

“I’ve never tried riding with two people on one bike, but I reckon we could make it work,” he dared to give a small grin.

Starting to let your own smile slip in again, you gave a quiet giggle that made his heart swell, not realising how much he missed the sound.

So this was how you ended up approaching the bike, clumsily but surely balancing in front of Yoongi where he could put his arms either side of you and hold the handlebars. It didn’t prove to be any faster than walking, as the bike wobbled when he tried to push off, and only one foot would make it to a pedal before he was forced to abort, your own legs hovering unsteadily at each side in your feeble attempts to balance.

He had never done this for efficiency, though. All that mattered was your laugh, breathless and nonstop from the wild careening of the bike.

Falling back against his chest, you eventually had to admit defeat.

As it turned out, it was much easier for you to perch on the back, wrap your arms around Yoongi’s waist and tuck your head into his neck while balancing your feet on the wheel hub.

Now, the dark and bare streets went by a little quicker, but it was almost a shame. Yoongi didn’t want to cut short this contact, every wobble eliciting a nervous giggle from you the drifted right below his ear, warming his neck and raising goosebumps.

To his relief, you stood close even when you arrived and he was locking his bike back up. It was a minor miracle it hadn’t been snatched while he had left it like that.

Up the stairs and to his own place, you still hovered. What he would have once considered annoyingly close was now far too much distance. When had that happened?

Now, he understood your clinginess as far more than the naïve girl trailing after a friend she thought she had made (the fact he had become one was beside the point). After what he had just walked in on, he would never shake off your want to be close to him.

His half-eaten meal sat on the table still. You stopped when you saw it, drawing his attention. A small frown was once again etching itself on your brow, piecing together the dots. But if you thought his dinner was more important that getting you away from that hellhole, you were crazy.

A little clumsily, he swung a hand to brush against yours, pulling your eyes from the table.

“I’ll heat up some more.”

Yoongi didn’t object to you hooking your chin over his shoulder as you both watched the old microwave spin, lit by the dim orange inside.

Although you were still a bit too quiet, you seemed content enough once the two of you were piled under blankets on his couch and cupping bowls of soup. Yoongi watched as you began to smile into your meal at all the right parts of the film. Scoffed and grumbled without any real fight when you stretched your feet over his lap.

“Why bother with five star restaurants when you have Yoongi?” you chirped as you set your empty dish down. He didn’t shy away as you cuddled up to his side, putting your head on his shoulder with smiling eyes looking up at him.

But he did snark back, “I couldn’t bother with a five star restaurant if I wanted to.”

“See!” your cheery tone had resurfaced, “you’re tastier and more cost-effective.”

It was useless to argue with such an unrelenting determination to see the bright side. But why would he? He never wanted your world to grow dark.

Metaphorically, anyway.

He knew you were dozing on his shoulder as the film drew on, so he eased you up. Both of you needed to sleep.

In the yellow bathroom light, you brushed your teeth and he wiped your face. He needed to wash away the stains lining your eyes, wanting forget that they had ever known tears. It was easy enough, with the sleepy way you smiled at him, patient as he focussed on wiping your cheeks with the towel.

He lowered it, looking you over. His expression was restrained, all too serious, but he didn’t think he could let through the feelings that were suddenly choking him.

“Good enough,” he said gruffly, forcing his eyes away and leaving the bathroom.

You sighed with a small smile before following. He offered you some loose clothes, then turned around to let you change and slide into bed. He followed you, face still stone except those discerning eyes on you.

He had often looked at you this way, taking diligent care. But hiding. He would smile easily enough, but other times you knew there was something he just wasn’t letting out.

But you were too tired to think about anything much.

It was just Yoongi’s way of being. And here was yours. You shuffled your way closer to him, and he accepted it wordlessly, shifting an arm until you had settled comfortably, then dropping it loosely on top of the covers where they hugged your form.

You were first to fall asleep.

Tucked under his arm, he watched you carefully. Sleep erased all traces of the day’s worries, all the fear he had never wanted to see there.

For the moment, with the two of you curled together under the same covers, neither had to think about tomorrow. For now, you were safe. Secure enough to drift away at last, no thought as to when the tide would bring you back in and spit you into the world again.

Yoongi clutched you tighter. He wanted to shelter you here for as long as you might need it. Keep your eyes free of worry.

Your light was a rare one. Seeing it dim or shatter, that was something he just couldn’t face.

He couldn’t say when this had happened. But with you lying beside him, your even breaths mingling in the air, it felt as if you were right where you belonged.

Thank you for reading! Please please comment your thoughts, it’s the best present your could give to a writer if you liked their work!💜

>> here is the masterlist for the series <<

Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @taegularities let me know if you want to be tagged for installments of this series!!

#bangtanarmynet #purplearmynet #yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fluff #yoongi fluff #bts suga fluff #bts mafia au #bts comfort #bts hurt/comfort #min yoongi mafia #yoongi mafia au #yoongi imagine #suga scenario #min yoongi imagine #bts suga imagine

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def-initely-soul · 4 months

Text

Burn The Witch {4}

a/n: hello everyone it's been a while. I have no idea if anyone is still around or still interested in this, but here's the fourth part! don't know when i'll update again, figured i should upload this chapter since its been in my drafts for a while

pairing: yoongi x reader (f.)

genre: supernatural; angst; mystery; magical society AU; magicals!AU

rating: PG-15

warnings: violence; emotional abuse; blood; bullying; mentions of murder; mature language; panic attack

words: 5.6k

summary:

↠ {a boy who keeps running away, a girl who can’t seem to no matter how much she tries and a series of murders caught all in between of the cracks spread through what appears as a quiet little town…} ↞

or alternatively, not everything is always what it seems

previous part: {3}

It’s a slow day at “Selkie’s Place” when Yoongi pays you a visit, two days after the second murders.

Trusting him still feels naïve but you can’t help but do it, and it scares you. You’re putting so much faith in him. Too much faith. Blindly trusting someone like this can only lead to disappointment, you know this well enough. But it’s hard not to trust him. And you’re terrified.

When he steps into the pub it takes a whole lot of effort to get Mona to stop pestering him and move along to her other duties. Of course, you didn’t tell her the truth about your sudden partnership, instead opting for an inconspicuous story of making a new friend during interspecies studies. But, of course, she had to see for herself. Resulting in an almost interrogation of Yoongi about how the two of you met.

“She seems nice...” he comments afterwards. He waves at Mona from the couch he’s sitting on, who waves back at him from behind the bar.

You rest your hand at the back of the couch, watching the whole interaction with a careful smile. “She usually is. Today was a surprise for both of us...” you shrug before turning your attention back at him. Wondering what made him choose “Selkie’s Place” of all places for your conversation.

“You know this meeting could’ve happened at uni, right? No need for you to come here...” you raise an eyebrow and now it’s his turn to shrug.

“Better this way. Less eyes watching. After all, the person incriminating you could be someone from campus,” he takes a tentative sip of his beer. Your suspicion grows.

Maybe he’s not just thinking of being under the radar. Maybe he’s not completely unaffected from everyone else’s opinion and he’s afraid to be seen with you. Could that really be the case?

No. You wouldn’t peg Yoongi as someone who cares about other people’s opinions. He does what he wants and that’s the end of it.

But what if this town managed to get him? What if by living in such a remote place, the people’s beliefs became his own? What if he’s rethinking the whole thing?

You try to shake off the doubts creeping in your mind. They won’t do you any good for now.

“So, you think someone is incriminating me then,” you ponder instead.

Yoongi looks at you unimpressed. “Given the circumstances of those murders, I’d say it’d be too much of a coincidence. Someone is definitely trying to put the blame on you,” he replies sternly, confident in his logic. You find it hard to argue.

At least someone else believes you.

“So, what do you suggest we do?” you ask while taking a careful look around the pub. Just because you’re meeting here instead of campus, doesn’t mean you’re completely safe.

“Me?” he raises an eyebrow as he crosses his arms.

You shrug. “You’re the Sherlock here, Sherlock.” The reply has a smile growing on Yoongi and he leans towards you.

“And I suppose you’re my Watson then?”

At that you can’t help but scoff. Nevertheless, a grin is threatening to spill on your lips. “No, that would make me the unwilling victim that paid too much at your agency.”

Yoongi’s smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not paying me though.”

“Is store-credit okay?”

He shakes his head with a chuckle before leaning against his seat. “I was thinking of taking a look,” is his cryptic answer, eyes following the costumers around the pub.

This doesn’t satisfy your curiosity though. “Taking a look where?”

Yoongi is still nonchalantly people-watching when he replies. “The Kim’s estate.”

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

“Where?! Are you mad?! The place will be flooding with Magaux!” you respond incredulously. You’re not willing to take a step into this place, it will be filled with your worlds equivalent for the police! If someone were to catch you there, no evidence would be needed for your arrest.

“This might be our only chance...” Yoongi continues calmly, ignoring your sudden outburst.

“To get arrested?” you level with him but he rolls his eyes, not at all worried about his idea.

You can’t believe you’re hearing this! He can’t be serious.

“To find out anything concerning the identity of the perpetrator! Or would you rather just to sit by idly as everyone else pins this too on you?” it’s his turn to look at you with irritation in his eyes. Your mouth runs dry from words to say. You hadn’t thought of it that way. You should have.

“I...” you mumble taken aback, before you turn your eyes away. “I didn’t mean it like that...” you mutter in response. Yoongi exhales tiredly.

“Look, I know you don’t feel comfortable with this, but it’s our best shot at finding out anything. As for the magaux they cleared the scene not long before the second murders happened. The Kim estate will be empty by now,” his voice is soft, almost comforting and you turn to face him again. The determination and hope in his eyes strangely calm you down.

“How are we going to get in?” you make your decision and Yoongi smiles.

“Can you teleport?”

You nod.

“There’s how,” he announces entirely too pleased with himself, and you roll your eyes as you fight the urge to smile.

“I say we meet and teleport straight into the house, not to raise any alarms, hm?” he takes another sip of his beer, and you nod again.

That’s when you see it.

Yoongi goes on about the details of your plan, but your eyes are trained at the glass window behind him. Did you just see something move?

There’s just darkness outside. Just a heavy, unending black. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you.

But then you see it again. And this time it’s clearer.

What you thought was only black, quickly proves to be a shadow. A shapeless figure, much like the one you saw at that empty classroom. Unnerving, ever-present.

Your breath hitches. Yoongi’s voice becomes a faint buzz as your heartbeat rises when the figure suddenly appears closer to the window.

But the figure is almost the same colour as the night. You’re not sure what you’re seeing is real.

It seems as if you’re staring at nothing.

But “nothing” stares back.

And blinks.

“Y/N!”

You jump in your spot, tension suddenly dissipating. You glance at Yoongi disoriented, who looks at you with a wary expression. Then you take a look at the window again. But there’s nothing there.

“You okay?” Yoongi’s voice sounds as if you’re underwater. It gradually grows stronger, pulling you back to reality with it. You shake your head. It was nothing, you saw nothing.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine...” you clear your throat, unable to meet his eyes. You’re afraid he’ll see right through you. “I just got distracted, sorry. What were you saying?”

Yoongi’s gaze is suspicious, but he decides to say nothing. “That we should meet at my house to discuss somethings beforehand. Just to be careful about this. Wouldn't want to get caught now, would we?” he explains with an easy smile. And while you agree with the general idea, you have one small objection.

“Okay, but it’d be better if it was at my house instead. I still can’t quite get the hang of teleporting from anywhere outside my house,” you reply, and Yoongi looks worried at that.

“Then will you be able to teleport us to your house afterwards?” he asks with concern, and you nod.

“It just takes a bit more energy. Figured I’d keep whatever energy I can for leaving,” you shrug. Only now you realise that means Yoongi will have to actually come to your house.

It’s been so long since anyone stepped foot in your home, besides you and Mona. You’ll need to do some cleaning beforehand, just in case.

Yoongi nods as he thinks it over, tapping his finger on his chin before he shrugs. “Okay, if you’re sure you can do it...” he comments. Although his tone shifts something in you. As if your pride got wounded.

Sure, you’re used to that. It seems to be everyone’s personal chore in this hellhole of a town, but coming from Yoongi, makes you want to prove him wrong. To prove you’re not just some helpless victim, to prove you’re someone capable. Someone strong.

You can do it. You know you can.

And him doubting you makes you angry.

“I’m sure,” you say, and your tone raises no questions. No room for doubt fits in your words and your hair curl at the ends with magic as it seeps out of you with every burst of feeling. You’re not weak. That’s the only thing you’ve never been.

Yoongi’s stare is indecipherable as thunder roars outside. Your chest rises quickly with every worked-up breath.

But then he smiles. “That’s more like it.”

You watch anxiously as Yoongi steps inside your home, two days later. It’s the only day you’re free from work, so the only day you’d be able to do this. You wanted the whole day off to prepare for what you’re about to do.

You mainly slept and ate, to replenish your energy and be ready for later. And also downed more than three cups of coffee. Although that could maybe turn out to be a bad idea. You’re not sure yet.

You're curious to see how Yoongi will take in your home but nothing really reveals much about his thoughts. Not when he stares up at the massive wooden staircase with Alistair curled around the banister, or when his eyes meet the stone walls covered with paintings of your relatives.

Your familiar stares at the man in the middle of your lobby, thoughtfully take in your home and strangely he has nothing to say. The fox only stares at the vampire man with a mild curiosity and a slight apathy. Yoongi, to his credit, acknowledges the fox with a small tip of his head forward but then he keeps on looking around.

Alistair’s familiar voice appears in your head.

Do we trust him?

You give him what you hope is a warning glare.

Be nice Ali.

You swear you see him almost roll his eyes.

I’m always nice.

A snort breaks free from your lips that has Yoongi look at you with a questioning gaze.

You wave him off with your hand. “It’s nothing...” you reply when you decide to tease your familiar. “Ali seems to like you.”

The question doesn’t leave Yoongi’s eyes. “Ali?”

“My familiar...” you move closer to point at Alistair at the top of the stairs who stares at you with a nearly murderous gaze. “His real name is Alistair, but he doesn’t like being called Ali in front of strangers...” you chuckle with Yoongi’s eyes on you. Alistair gets up from his position and stretches before sitting on his back legs on a graceful but indignant pose.

Your smile grows.

Yoongi turns to your familiar and nods his head again. “I’m Yoongi. Nice to meet you Alistair.”

Ali looks at him carefully before his voice reappears.

He’s okay... for now.

Then he tips his head towards Yoongi and turns around to hide in your room.

You chuckle once more at the quizzical look on Yoongi’s face. “Okay, now he really seems to like you.”

Yoongi sighs in relief. “I’m glad. Wouldn’t want to get on your familiar’s bad side...” he replies while turning his eyes upwards to your high ceiling. His gaze turns awed when he sees the ancient magic decorating the glass ceiling and how the endless night outside meets the floating lights underneath your roof.

“What is this...?” he asks in wonder, mouth falling open at the sight above him.

Another smile takes over your lips. “My father did it. When I was young, I used to say how much I loved the floating lights in the sky. I would sit awake for hours trying to come up with spells to bring them closer to me. I thought if I tried hard enough, I could bring them in my room and have them on my ceiling and then I could say “I have the floating lights in my room!”. So, one day my dad brought home some small crystal balls, filled them with starlight and enchanted them to float forever beneath our glass ceiling. To accompany the real floating lights in the night sky,” you reminisce as one of the floating lights slowly descends to meet your open hand.

It’s warmth travels through your skin, reminding you of that time you tried to catch them with a floating spell of your own. Back then, you didn’t know you weren’t supposed to chase them. The starlight would come to you instead.

“And to make sure I didn’t accidently cause earth’s collision with a star,” you add on with a chuckle.

“Your dad could catch starlight?” Yoongi asks still in awe, but his eyes are on you now.

“It was his individual power.”

“And what is yours?” he asks curiously.

At that your smile drops.

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

Both of you remain silent. Yoongi’s gaze doesn’t leave you but where you thought you’d see pity you see nothing but understanding. He doesn’t say anything along the lines of “I’m sorry,” or “That must be hard,”. He just lets you be.

You don’t know what else to say so you focus on the issue at hand. “Okay, so are we ready for this?” is your impatient question as you let the small ball float back into place.

Yoongi stares for another moment before he clears his throat. “Yeah, just a few things first. We need to be really discreet. There might not be any Magaux there but there should be some monitor spells lying around. So, we have to be careful. And we shouldn't split up. I know it’ll take more time but it’s safer this way,” Yoongi explains, all seriousness and even though you agree, you can’t resist the urge to tease him.

“Is someone afraid?” you can’t hide your teasing smile and Yoongi scoffs as he tries to hide his own.

“Me? Please. I’m just saying this for you...” he smirks, and you roll your eyes.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you take his hand in yours as you close your eyes and recount the spell in your mind.

You feel the familiar rush of magic travelling through your body, the magic of your home helping you in the process and then you open your eyes.

But it didn’t work.

You stare confused at your joined hands. This is weird.

Yoongi looks concerned. “Is something the matter?”

“That hasn’t happened before...” you mumble in disbelief, worry filling your mind.

“Maybe it’s because we’re two people. Have you tried teleporting with another person before?” Yoongi casually drags his hands away from yours. You’re too worried about your powers to notice the crimson hue spreading over his cheeks.

“I-… No, I haven’t but I don’t think that’s it...” your confusion is palpable as you close your eyes to try again.

Once more you feel the familiar pull on your gut as your magic concentrates. This time you feel a bit more of it, now that it’s just you, but when you’re about to cross over you feel the difference. There’s something blocking you. Your powers work just fine, moving you along the spell just as they’re supposed to but when it’s time to land, you feel a wall blocking your path.

“There must be a blocking spell on the estate...” you realise out loud and Yoongi curses softly.

“Now what? Should we walk all the way there? Someone might see us,” he says in thought, thinking of possible solutions to your problem but you raise an eyebrow. It's simpler than that.

“...Or we could just teleport outside the estate and walk to the front door?”

“Okay, now that we’re here how do we get in?”

This time, you’re successfully teleported outside of the estate, so you resulted in walking the rest of the way. The blocking spell shimmers as soon as you pass the front gate. You fight a shiver at the peculiar sensation.

True to Yoongi’s words the scene seems cleared, no Magaux anywhere in sight. The Kim’s estate appears larger up close. The building is still standing, yet black spots of fire and ruin grace its appearance and a cold chill runs down your bones.

The lights are out, the house an imposing structure despite its condition, the smell of ashes wafting through the air. You can’t believe this place was full of life just two weeks ago.

That it wasn’t just a ruin.

“The normal way,” Yoongi responds as he climbs the stairs to the front door. You follow close behind.

“Through the front door? How do you know it doesn’t have any monitoring spells?” you inquire with careful step, wary of making too much noise.

Yoongi smirks at you but instead of going through the front door, he nears a broken window to the side. The floor creaks with his steps, a contrast to the silence of the night. You resist the urge to shiver.

He leans in, just barely through the window. He looks around the windowsill, as if looking for something. Once he’s satisfied, he leans back outside with a winning smile. “No monitoring spells here.”

Your gaze is suspicious. “How can you tell?”

He waves you over and you both lean inside to take a peek in what seems to be the living room. “Usually monitoring spells have a tell; they must have a beeper nearby to help them keep running for the desired time. The latest versions don’t need it, hence the increase in their price. I doubt Xefoto’s Magaux can afford them...” he comments. You lean more inside, and he points over your shoulder towards a small rectangle metallic box just above the door.

“Now that’s a beeper. Which means this door is monitored,” he explains as he steps inside the window. Once he’s safely inside he stretches his hand towards you.

You take it with a careful yet amazed gaze. “How do you know all that?” you move inside, wary of dragging anything with you. You finally place both legs inside before dragging your hand away.

Yoongi simply shrugs as his eyes move to the interior. “I’m studying to become a Magau. It’s stuff I should know,” he chuckles as he takes a step inside.

You hum in understanding and your eyes finally take in the living room. Or what used to be the living room.

The wallpaper is burned to a crips as most spots, heavy black marks covering the walls in a pattern; as if the fire spread out in five, even streams of flame and burned everything in their path. The floor beneath the marks is black in streams too, all pointing towards the centre of the room, as if someone lighted a fire and spread it in five, even directions. Like a ritual would have it.

“I guess this is where we should look...” Yoongi comments in a grave voice. His fingers skip the black mark on the walls.

“What happened here...?” you mumble in terror, mostly to yourself. It’s pretty obvious what happened here, but why would someone kill an entire family just for a ritual?

“Whoever did this, did not mess around...” Yoongi whispers, while you near the fireplace. On top of it rest some burning sage along with some geraniums and a few buds of alyssum; all burned to almost a crisp, outside of the five even streams. The flower petals are black, almost destroyed by the fire. Burning sage is used for protection from enchantment, geranium as an alert for approaching guests and alyssum is used to deflect spells and judging by their condition, you’d say the person behind this knew much about the Kim’s.

Your eyes then travel to the wall above; decorated with numerous runes and what must be protection spells. But truth is you never paid attention on rune’s class, so you have no idea how to read them.

“So, we look for anything that might be suspicious?” Yoongi makes an affirmative sound, and you begin looking. Hoping you will at least find something that can help you.

It’s been two hours or so since you started searching but you have nothing so far. You looked into every corner, under all furniture, looking for cracks in the floor, opening every cabinet and little trinket but you’ve come up empty handed.

You’re starting to lose hope. You can’t believe you did all this just to come up with nothing. You refused to be pessimistic all day, to avoid jinxing it but now it seems your doubts became a reality.

You have nothing to move forward from. You only know a witch is somehow involved, someone who knew what they were doing which means it wasn’t anyone from this town.

Which means you’re screwed.

With a huff, you stand up. “Come on Yoongi, I don’t think we’ll find anything here...” you admit, shoulders hunched but Yoongi doesn’t budge.

“I’m not done yet. Plus, we haven’t looked into any of the other rooms yet...” he replies, not really paying attention to you. You tiredly watch as his hands dive in what seems like the hundredth box here.

You groan, your sore muscles complaining along, and you rub your straining neck. “I doubt we’ll find anything in the other rooms either. Let’s just admit this was hopeless and return to-”

Your words get cut short when you hear a sound coming from outside.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice it, too immersed in his search, but you’re certain you heard something. Is someone else here?

“Yoongi...” you whisper lowly, taking a step towards him, your eyes glued to the front door.

“Wait, I think I found something...!” he mumbles with barely contained excitement, his hand searching through the outer cracks of the box.

But then you hear it again.

The unmistakeable creak of the wooden floor on the front porch. Meaning someone is coming up the stairs.

“Yoongi, someone is here...” you shake his shoulder to gain his attention, to guide his focus at the impending risk of being found out.

“I can’t get it, just use an invisibility spell or something...” he argues, finger grabbing that... something and yanking it as hard as he can.

Panic and shame are an awful mix, flooding you at the same time as the creaks sound closer.

“Yoongi, please, we have to get out now...” your rushed voice reflects the rhythm of your pulse, and your breaths quicken in fear. Your eyes widen and you stare at the door as whoever seems to be outside takes their sweet time to turn down the doorknob.

A huff comes from your partner. “This is a clue; we have to get it! Why can’t you just cast a disguise or invisibility spell?”

He obviously doesn’t understand why you’d choose to simply run but once you hear the steps sounding just outside the door you snap.

“Because I literally can’t!”

Thankfully your voice was barely a hiss, but it’s enough for Yoongi to hear it and look at you with a surprised gaze.

Great, is that shame creeping back in?

“I- I never learned how...” you admit, your voice barely a whisper this time. You avoid Yoongi’s eyes; they are sure to be filled with pity and you can’t take that just yet. You can take a lot of things admittedly, but surprisingly not this.

The sound of steps travels through the wood again and you remember you’re about to be discovered. “Now can we please get out so I can at least teleport us somewhere safe?!” you hiss, pointing with one hand towards the door.

Yoongi stares at you for a second too long without replying. Instead, he grabs what seems to be a small stick, stuck into the cracks of the box and with one determined move, he finally gets it out.

“Got it! Let’s go,” he exclaims triumphant before you drag him towards the back of the house with a tired groan.

“I used to come here as a kid, there’s a back door at the kitchen and windows we can go out of. If there are monitoring spells in all of them, we can hide until the living room is clear...” you whisper quickly, remembering all the times you came here with your parents for social visits.

You open the door, push Yoongi quickly inside and lock it behind you.

“Check for beepers...” you put a chair against the locked door, just to be safe as Yoongi checks the back door first.

“Clear,” he replies “Although it seems weird the door isn’t monitored, even if it’s just a back door...” he thinks out loud.

“Well, if it was, we’d be stuck here so forgive me for not looking a gift horse in the mouth...” you roll your eyes at him as you drag him towards the door. “Now let’s get out of here...” you open the back door and motion for him to follow you when you both hear the unmistakeable sound of the front door opening.

Both your gazes land at the kitchen door, then at each other.

“Run?” you whisper.

Yoongi swallows the lump in his throat, and he nods. “Run.”

Then you’re both out in the backyard, running through the bushes and flowers as quietly as you can. Actually, the garden is really pretty and normally you’d stick around to gaze through the flora, but this is as far from a normal situation as it could be.

You can’t afford to stop. If you stop now and someone sees you, it’s all over. Noone would care that you had an alibi for that night; they’ll send you straight to prison.

You reach the fence between the Kim’s estate and the forest, and both of you use the momentum to quickly jump over it, only to land ungracefully at the forest floor.

Yoongi lays there for a second to catch his breath, but there’s no time to lose. You grab his arm, closing your eyes and recounting the spell as fast as you can, when the telltale sign of power draining takes over you and you suddenly find yourselves back into the floor of your living room.

“Fuck...” you curse breathlessly, your body slumping down against the floor. Your muscles scream in protest, your legs turned to jelly as your lung struggle to fill up.

Your eyes find the floating lights at your ceiling, dancing around peacefully; such an obvious contrast to what you just did, and you can’t help but wonder what your father would think of this.

You think he’d have a heart attack to be honest.

But your mother? She’d probably be with you all along.

Yoongi chuckles, out of breath. “Yeah... fuck...” he agrees before groaning and rubbing his eyes. “I haven’t had that much exercise in years...” he mumbles and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your lips.

You both lay there too tired to move, your eyes naturally following the spells carved on your celling.

And that’s when you remember.

“So, what did we find?” you ask curiously and Yoongi scoffs.

“We? Oh no, you wanted to leave, you get no credit for this...” he teases, still trying to catch his breath and another laugh escapes you.

“Fair enough. So, what did you find, oh great detective Min?” you tease back, and he chuckles (an impossibly clear sound you’re sure you won’t be able to get out of your head).

His hand dives into the pocket of his jeans. Then it emerges, carrying that slim stick you saw him dig out and he passes it to you. You take it cautiously, observing it meticulously. It’s bent at the end in an obtuse angle, frayed at the middle with scratches on its middle part and strings of something soft sticking out of it. Oh wait, it’s not a stick.

“It’s a feather...” you observe and Yoongi hums in agreement.

“Yeah, a black one as you can see and those scratches in the middle part?” he points to them right where you saw them before, “At first look they seem inconspicuous, but I think it’s a rune...”. The more you look at it, the more sense Yoongi’s observation makes. Yes, it is a rune, the one resembling the letter “c”, but you have no idea what it means.

Again, not good with runes.

“And it seems even more plausible since the feather remained intact through all the debacle,” Yoongi mumbles in thought and you turn to him.

“You think it was enchanted to withstand the fire?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it was used to keep the fire from going out, or for something else altogether. I can’t really tell; we’ll have to find out what that rune means...”

His statement has you looking at the feather again, deep in thought. Someone wanted the Kims gone so bad, they not only lighted their house on fire but did everything necessary so that the fire wouldn’t go out.

You weren’t aware the Kims had such enemies. In truth, they were one of the most respected families in Xefoto.

So, who did this, and why?

“Okay, so where do we go from here?” you pass Yoongi back the feather.

He takes it back with nimble fingers, softly grazing your own. “I remember seeing a spell recipe that used a black, bent feather with a rune scratched on the middle part in another witch’s book of spells. I don’t remember what the spell was for though, so we need the book to know the details. Do you have yours somewhere around?” he asks curiously, but you shake your head.

“No. Us witches are supposed to get our books at the age of twelve, along with our mentor. But ever since the accident, the council put a ban in everything regarding casting magic. No mentors, no books, no anything. And you won’t be able to find anything at the local library either, believe me, I’ve tried...” you admit with a sad chuckle.

Yoongi sits up and stares at you in shock. “Is this why you didn’t know how to cast an invisibility spell?” he asks in bewilderment, voice filled to the brim with disbelief.

You simply nod.

His eyes widen, a glim of irritation flashing through them and he drops back to the floor with an angry huff. “I can’t believe this fucking town...” he grits through his teeth, making you shift uncomfortably next to him.

“It’s fine really. After I’m done with college, I’m gonna search for a mentor elsewhere, so no harm done!” you rush to say, words more bubbly and cheerful than you ever felt about your situation, but it feels vulnerable to let him in, in all those aspects of your life that you hate.

And you don’t like feeling vulnerable. Even though, with him, it’s the only thing you seem to be doing.

“No harm done my ass...” he argues with a clipped voice, ready to say some more, when he casts a glance at your side. He sees something that makes him stop though. Instead, he looks at you for a moment longer before he turns his focus forward and clears his throat.

You two remain silent for a few seconds, neither of you knowing what to say. Although it doesn’t feel as strange as it felt a moment ago. Somehow it feels peaceful and quiet and everything you wanted since that fateful day your parents died, and your skin crawls with the whisper of all the things you lost, as if they say you don’t deserve this tranquillity. That this too will be taken away from you because you’ve done nothing in your life to deserve this. Even though life has put you through enough things to owe you this.

But life doesn’t care about balance or justice. It only takes, unyielding and cruel and indifferent to your sorrows until you have nothing left or you give up.

You don’t know at what stage you are yet.

Yoongi somehow senses the dark path your mind has taken you. He knows that for some reason, whatever you’re thinking about now isn’t good for you. The urgency to bring your thoughts back to the present tugs at him so persistently that at first, he sits there in panic, not knowing what to do.

But the longer he sees that distant, almost resigned look in your eyes, the more words keep trying to escape his throat, until he’s sure that if he tries to voice them, no one would be able to make any sense out of them.

So instead, he clears his throat again.

The sound startles you, like waking you up from a nightmare and only realising you’re in the comfort of your bed, and you have to remind yourself you’re safe.

But as your eyes fall on Yoongi again, that small seed of warmth that appeared when Yoongi first found you in that classroom, spreads the tiniest amount.

“So how do we find that book?” he asks.

The question has you smiling. That you know how to get.

“There’s this guy at school, he’s mostly everyone’s weed dealer, but I've heard that for the right price, he can get you anything; besides other drugs that is,” you explain, and Yoongi sits up once again, resting his weight on his hands. This time though, it’s not rage swimming in his eyes, but excitement.

“Okay, so let’s talk to him!” comes his enthusiastic response but you wave him off.

“It’s best if you let me do the talking...” you warn him, knowing if he was to talk to the guy, it wouldn’t end well for any of you.

He regards you with suspicion. “Why? Who is this guy?”

You roll your eyes at him with a smile.

“His name is Dean,” and Yoongi looks even more confused.

“And he’s a werewolf.”

next part: {5}

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c0llisiion · 2 months

Note

Hihi, Idk if requests are open. But can you do Suga x fem!reader where he fucks her while her hands are behind her back…maybe degrading and dumbifaction. Possibly edging?? If you’re comfortable. ily !

FAVOURITE — M.YG

★Pairing: min yoongi + f!reader

★Genre: smut

★: not proof read, mean dom!myg , office!au , office sex , unprotected sex (practice safe sex!) , bondage , pussy slapping , fingering , dumbification , slight edging , name calling , nicknames — lmk if i missed any! ^^

★W/C: 1,479

A/N: hiii!! Sorry if this took so long 😭 tysm to user for sending me this! I had sm fun writing it! I hope it checks out all that you wanted 😞🥰 enjoy!!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

The bundle of files came flying at you, hitting you on the chest, The impact made you stumble back a bit. “Are you fucking stupid???” Yoongi spat at you from behind his desk. An angry scowl was plastered on his face. He slammed his hand on the desk. “I ask you one thing, and this is the result?!” You flinch at his words and actions. Your gaze was low, trying to avoid any eye contact with the furious man that stood in front of you.

Being Yoongis assistant was not as easy as you thought. You thought it would be all easygoing and happy because you were literally working for one of the biggest corporations and were hired as the personal assistant for the CEO! Isn't that a dream!!?? You would think. It was far from that. Yoongi was a sadist. He liked torturing you. Giving you the hardest assignments or tasks for you to complete and, on top of that, a very short amount of time to finish them. He made you follow millions of rules because ‘you are new, so you need guidance, right?’. You started getting why his other assistants resigned.

You stared at the ground, on the verge of tears. You were a pretty sensitive person, so him screaming at you, accompanied by the throwing of things, was the perfect recipe for your waterworks to pour. You tried staying strong and tried to put up with his attitude, but today was the last straw.

“Are you that incompetent? Is this how I taught you? You dumb fucking slut! The only thing you are good at is flirting and fucking my employees!” He snapped at you harshly. Your heart sank at his words, and you started sniffing. He noticed it almost immediately and walked towards you, his lean body towering over your small frame as he stared down at you. You stayed silent, as you were not allowed to talk back to him until he said so. You gulped before hot streams of tears started pouring down your face. Yoongi stared at you, amused, A smirk was on his face as he finally broke you. He lifted your chin up and stared into your tear-filled eyes blankly. “Pathetic… Did I really hire a crybaby?” You shook your head. “N-no.. sir… w-whatever you said is not true…” You spoke up. You stutter in fear. “What?” His grip on your chin tightened. He got closer, his other hand creeping behind and groping your plump ass. Your breath hitched at his sudden action. His hand travels down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around them as he brings your face closer to his own. “Gon’ teach you a good lesson, ‘kay? So better shut your stupid fucking mouth and listen t’ me..” he hissed. His hand on your ass went under your short pencil skirt. You gulp and shudder when you feel his long, cold fingers rubbing your wet cunt. “So fucking wet.. you like it when I get angry at you, dont you , pretty?” His other hand found your ass cheeks before spreading and giving them a tight slap. You whine as you feel his fingers prod into your cunny , your head falling onto his chest. Hot tears stained his white button up.

“S-sir.. please .. its embarrassi-“ He cut you off by landing a slap on your wet cunt. You jerk forward at the impact and sob as you watch Yoongi spread your cheeks and admire your pretty pussy. “So pretty… everything about you is perfect…” he praised. You whimpered as you felt his hot breath fanning over your bare pussy. You couldn’t do much as he had you bent over his desk, with his black valentino tie, binding your hands together behind your back. He gently placed a kiss on your slit, sending shivers down your spine. You writhed as he made out with your pussy. You gasped out as he slapped your ass. “Quit moving, bitch.” You gulped and closed your eyes as he licked a long stripe. Your eyes rolled back, and you started drooling as you felt his tongue inside of your warm walls. Yoongi buried his face in your pussy, his nose nudged inside. His tongue moved inside you with precision. A stream of your arousal ran down yoongis chin and your thighs. He moaned as he felt you clench around his tongue. “So wet. You are such a slut..” he mumbled into your pussy. You cried out as yoongis fingers found your neglected clit, slender fingers toying with the sensitive bud to overstimulate you. “S-sir… s’ too much!” Yoongi pulled away, leaving your cunt throbbing. He stood up and hovered over your small frame. You look up at him with glossy eyes, and a fucked out face, barely even being able to comprehend what’s going on. “Too much?” You nod dumbly, your eyes on the verge of tears. Yoongi's hands smoothed over your sweaty forehead, pushing away the stray hairs. “I barely started, princess..” Your mouth falls agape as you feel his fingers circle your entrance. “You disappointed me today… don’t you think i –squelch– deserve compensation..?” Your eyes roll back, and you moan as his fingers curl into your g spot. Your legs were trembling as four of his fingers went in and out off your sex, his hands already getting coated with your juices, almost reaching the cuffs of his suit jacket. Loud, squelching sounds accompanied by your soft moans bounced off the walls of his office. Yoongis other hand, found your perky nipples, playing with them through your thin shirt. “Mmm-ngh- s-sir….” You were too out of it to even speak. His fingers drove into you at an insane pace. Your mind was foggy as you slurred your words. “Gon -ngh- na.. c-cuum…” you almost felt like you were going to black out, but you were quickly brought back to earth as Yoongi pulled his fingers away. You cried out and turned around to look at Yoongi.

Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as Yoongis long cock plunged into you without a warning. Yoongi had a shit eating grin as he watched your reaction. He started moving his hips, sharp thrusts abused your walls. Your eyes crossed, and you started drooling from the sides of your mouth as Yoongi pounded into your squelching pussy. One of his hands was on your hip, keeping your body steady, and the other was on your head, squishing the side of your face. With every driving thrust into your pussy, the desk shook. You were crying and whining. Yoongi's cock was just too good. He pulled your head back, making you look into his eyes. “Look at you… all fucked out, and i barely started… feels good, princess? Does my princess like getting fucked like this? Yeah?” You whine at his words, unable to speak. You looked at him with your big, glossy eyes, lips in a pout, and eyebrows stitched together. Yoongi almost lost it after looking at your state. “Is the dick too good that my princess cant even speak?” He scoffed before wrapping his hand around your neck, bringing you closer to his body. He used his other hand to lift one of your legs up on the desk. The new position hit the right spots. You moaned as his cock continuously bruised your cervix. He would pull back all the way and plunge into you, grazing your sensitive g spot. The hand on your neck was an added stimulation. “Fuuuuuckk…- sirrr.. -hic- its too g-goodd..” “yeah? Does my pretty little slut wanna cum? Does she wanna come all over boss’s dick?” He said it in between hot breaths. You nodded incoherently. “Mhmffm- wan’ more… wanna c-cummm….” Yoongis eyebrows furrowed as he watched your pussy suck him in. A thick ring of your cream was coating his pelvis. “So good… such a pretty whore.. do you see the way your pussy is taking me? ‘m gonna fill you up. Im gonna make sure you walk out with my cum dripping down your thighs. Wan’ everyone to know who this whore belongs too..” you cried out at his words, and a stream of your hot arousal gushed out of your pussy. You fall limply onto the desk and let Yoongi use your cunt. Not long after, his hot cum filled your womb. Rope after rope. He hunched over your small frame, holding you close to his body as he calmed himself down from his intense orgasm.

Yoongi laid your weak body down on his office couch. You were barely conscious. He had cleaned you down and fixed your hair. He untied your hands and smoothed over the red marks. He had your head on his lap, as he ran his fingers through your slightly sweaty hair. He gently placed a kiss on your forehead.

“ My favourite girl. ”

A/N: thank you for reading!! Did it seemed too rushed? I told i will post rqs in march but i couldn’t help but post it 😭 was the office theme okay? Hope you liked it <3 i will be back 🔜 pookies hehe

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yoonia · 9 months

Text

the bedroom hymns ● chapter list

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Summary | A threat against your father’s empire has forced him to send you away from the only place you have known to be your home, from the heaven-like prison which you have always dreamed about escaping, only to find yourself in a new kind of confinement. Haunted by the questions about your father’s past and the dark tales that seem to follow him, the thousand mysterious doors and the secrets waiting for you to reveal, and the mysterious Prince that has been following your shadows between realms, you are off to a new adventure in the Land Far Far Away.

⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au, Faerie au, Angst, Mystery, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; this story contains classism, threats of assassination, curses, dark magic, rumours about serial killers, mentions of abductions, mentions of arranged marriages, betrayal, manipulation, depiction of war, fantasy typical violence, mentions of blood and wounds, minor descriptions/depictions of injuries, fantasy weapons (swords, etc), mentions/depictions of death, mentions/depictions of domestic abuse, alcohol use — also includes mature and explicit sexual scenes (...more details will be added as I continue writing this piece...) ⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: chapter xvii. divulgence (Apr 15th, 2023) - 126,234 words of n/a words ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊, 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖞…

⏤ Written by @yoonia for the Once Upon A Fantasy collab; with @jamaisjoons, @yeoldontknow, @inkedtae, @opaljm, @kookdiaries, @kth1fics

⏤ Crossposted on: AO3, Wattpad

⟶ Chapters

⇢ prologue. the bluebeard’s tale

⇢ chapter i. when the stars are aligned

⇢ chapter ii. the wicked king

⇢ chapter iii. dreamers

⇢ chapter iv. in bloom

⇢ chapter v. homecoming

⇢ chapter vi. the castle by the sea

⇢ chapter vii. the secret doors

⇢ chapter viii. chasing shadows

⇢ chapter ix. secrets

⇢ chapter x. wanderers-1

⇢ chapter xi. wanderers-2

⇢ chapter xii. alias

⇢ chapter xiii. red strings-1

⇢ chapter xiv. red strings-2

⇢ chapter xv. crescendo

⇢ chapter xvi. respite

⇢ chapter xvii. divulgence

⇢ chapter xviii. serendipity

⇢ (...more chapters coming soon...)

⟶ References

⇢ visual references

⟶ Patreon specials

⇢ visual moodboard

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babystrcandy · 1 year

Text

matilda (pt. 2) | myg

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | brother’s best friend au, f2e2f2l, slice of life, angst, fluff, eventual smut word count: 15.5K warnings/notes: typos probably, explicit language, unrequited love (?), a whole lot of even more pining, min yoongi and his hair colors *wink*, heartbreak, alcohol usage, unsupportive/neglectful parents, reader is yoongi’s #1 supporter, she loves him so much it hurts, angst angst ANGST (oh my god the angst), seokjin and hari highkey being the best characters, ripping off love rosie because that movie is a core memory, oh and twenty five twenty one because it haunts me, fights (i’m sorry), i think that’s it but if i missed anything pls let me know, hope you enjoy <3

chapter two: you can let it go ( ← previous | next → )

WHEN YOU WERE UNFORTUNATELY seventeen years of age you finally realized boys were the bugs you had originally made them out to be . . . all thanks to Min Yoongi. Your feelings for him had made you sick, your stomach churning every time you saw the pictures your brother would upload of him and his friends losing their minds at college party after college party. And in every picture, you’d see a new girl glued to Yoongi’s side.

For a while, you could handle the way your heart ached when you'd catch a glimpse of those pictures all over your brother and his friends’ social media. But that was because it felt distant, manageable. You could handle that.

What you couldn’t handle was the call you received from Hari one February morning.

“I didn’t know how to tell you . . . but . . . Yoongi has a girlfriend,” Hari’s voice came through the phone in a quiet murmur almost being muffled by the static of the connection.

You felt your heart flatline.

Yoongi has a girlfriend. The words echoed in your ears even long after you had bid your friend a farewell and laid down in your bed for the night. Those four words seemed to haunt you.

Granted, you knew you should’ve been over this stupid thing you had for Yoongi a long time ago. You had hooked up with a couple other boys at stupid parties since he’d gone to college, trying to distract yourself from the very obvious void he had left you to deal with when he moved away. And it had almost worked despite how awful it made you feel afterward (which you tried to ignore). You thought it was working. But then Hari called, telling you the news she had heard from Hoseok, and you suddenly felt ten years old again, seeing Yoongi walk through your front door for the first time.

You knew it was bound to happen. Yoongi always had this charm about him. He’d always done well to find someone to take to school dances or random movie dates, but he’d never gone so far as to have a girlfriend. He’d told you he much preferred to be left alone. (In fact, if you recalled correctly . . . he once told you that you were the reason he'd been able to open himself up more to people.)

He just isn’t a girlfriend type of guy, your brother had offhandedly remarked to you one night when you guys were younger.

But you hadn’t seen him all year. You knew Seokjin and Yoongi had decided to room together, planning to get a place together with Hoseok once the boy graduated that year. So when Yoongi didn’t join your family for your annual Christmas dinner that year, opting to stay on campus, you just guessed that Yoongi was busy with school. But now, you supposed he had stayed to be with his girlfriend . . .

Yoongi has a girlfriend.

The words echoed in your head again.

You couldn't help the sobs which wracked your body in the minutes to come. You just let it consume you. For the first time in your life, you let yourself feel the heartbreak you’d been feeling since the day you met him. He’d been slowly breaking your heart for seven years now, and worst of all, you only had yourself to blame. You couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault, it was yours. You hadn’t given up on him when you should have. Even when he showed you again and again that what he felt for you was purely platonic, you still had hope.

Your hope was gone now, fizzling out into smoke like the fire which used to ignite your heart.

And as the months passed, the fire had died out completely.

You were nothing more than ash now.

The next time you saw Yoongi, you were a senior in high school. He had been home from college. He’d come with Seokjin briefly, but you only saw him when he was leaving. But you had seen him, stepping into his car, his eyes locking with yours.

He looked different now—older, even. His eyes seemed wiser, and his hair had been dyed burgundy. Maybe he was different. It made your heart swell, but you didn’t move from your spot in the doorway. He hadn't moved either.

Neither of you advanced to greet each other.

You both had seen the other.

It was fleeting, but it was enough.

You had smiled.

Yoongi had smiled back.

And then he was gone. You stood stagnant right where he left you.

You didn’t see him for the rest of the year.

The first face you saw as you walked out of your school, dressed in your graduating cap and gown was none other than Min Yoongi. You hadn’t been looking for him. You didn’t even think he’d come. But there he was—his hair a little longer now, styled, and blonde. He wore his usual attire of an oversized shirt, jacket, and baggy pants, not bothering to dress up for the ceremony. He looked exactly as you remembered him, except, you know, the hair. (You ignored how much older and mature he looked now.)

Except, this time when you saw him, you weren’t sure if it was dread or happiness which filled you. Seokjin told you over the phone that Yoongi had broken up with his girlfriend back in March. He was probably nursing a broken heart or maybe he didn't care at all. The thing was: you had no idea. You hadn’t seen him since that awkward sighting at your house months back. Prior to that, you hadn't seen him since he left for college close to two years ago now. He was different now. Maybe this wasn’t your Yoongi.

But he wore the same gummy smile your Yoongi always used to share with you. You could’ve sworn you were fourteen again, stuck with him on that train as he grinned at you like that.

“Hey, kid,” he spoke warmly, slowly making his way toward you. Still sounded like the Yoongi you remembered.

And then he wrapped his arms around you even though he had told you multiple times that he hated them, and you felt like you were going to melt in his arms.

“I missed you,” the boy murmured into your hair, bringing you closer to him.

You blinked . . . then breathed in. Sweet—like jasmine and wood. He still smelled the same.

You wrapped your arms around him then, finally allowing yourself to hold him once again. It didn’t matter if you wouldn’t see him for three years after this, you just wanted to remember him like this. You wanted to bottle this moment in your mind before time etched away at your soul.

Then finally . . . you whispered as if afraid of your own voice, “I missed you, too.” You let yourself be selfish in that moment, pulling him closer as you buried your face into his chest and breathed him in.

“How’s it feel to be an adult?” he questioned after a minute.

You choked out a laugh. “Horrible.”

Yoongi ruffled your hair, laughing into you, his shoulders moving as he laughed. He pulled back a second later, the smile still on his face. “I got you something,” he said, his voice giving off that same calmness it always did.

You blinked up at him, eyes full of wonderment.

But you weren’t kept waiting long as the boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace with a hanging charm of a . . . paper airplane.

You quirked a brow.

Your reaction only caused the boy to snort, scrunching his nose. “I know. I know,” he began, laughing slightly. “I tried to find a paper ring charm like the one you made for me, but the only origami charms I could find were of this or a paper crane.”

“And you chose the paper . . . airplane?”

Yoongi only ruffled your hair again, to which you shoved him, huffing in agitation as you fixed your previously picture-perfect styled hair.

“Listen, kid, I’m in college and broke. Accept the present,” Yoongi told you, his voice humorous. He shrugged, his eyes on the paper plane charm. “Besides, I hear paper airplanes are kind of like a symbol for throwing yourself into the future.”

You deadpanned. “That’s stupid,” you huffed as you grabbed at the necklace and hastily clasped it around your neck.

Yoongi only smiled, although it was one of those half-grins that you had never seen him give to you before. And you hated to admit it, but it was attractive.

A second later, Yoongi was speaking again. “Airplane Part Two is one of my next upcoming pieces I’ve composed for my album,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

Your eyes bulged. “You’re making an album?”

“Well . . . it’s more like a few original pieces I’ve come up with put on a burned CD that I’m thinking about sending out to whoever will give it a chance, but . . . “ he trailed off, his words growing awkward on his tongue.

You helped him finish his thought as you slapped his arm. “You’re making an album!” you exclaimed, slightly jumping up and down.

Yoongi blew a raspberry. “Trying, but shit it’s hard.”

“Tough,” you hummed, holding onto him tightly. “You’re gonna be famous. Mark my words, Min Yoongi, the greatest pianist to ever live.”

That half-grin was back on his face. It almost looked as if he were about to lean closer toward you to speak of his gratitude, but he never got the chance. One second it was just you and Yoongi, then the next Seokjin and Hoseok were jumping the two of you. There were no words exchanged, just bickering and gleeful shouts as Seokjin clung onto Yoongi, who fought the boy, trying to get him off him while Hoseok kept nudging into you, singing the song which played as they watched you walk across the stage to finally receive your high school diploma.

“Aren’t we all too old for this shit?!” you yelled over their shouts.

Yoongi grimaced against Seokjin’s chants in his ear. “Agreed!” the Min boy shouted as he tried plugging his ears.

But the other two boys only continued. You almost stormed away to go find your parents for pictures or to go see if Hari was still there with Taehyung and Jimin, but before you could, the boys grabbed you and hoisted you up on their shoulders. You glanced down finding Seokjin and Hoseok on either side of you as the two of them continued their chants and began walking, carrying you as if you were some kind of royal. And at the realization of how your little group probably looked at that very moment, you burst out laughing.

You let them carry you through the parking lot, through the hoards of your classmates and their families, and toward Seokjin’s car. You let yourself laugh the whole time, realizing this was the hardest you had laughed all year. And then your eyes drifted toward Yoongi, who walked ahead of the three of you, his back turned to you as he glanced over his shoulder every so often with a grin on his face.

The next time he glanced back, his eyes met yours, nose scrunching as his grin grew. You bit back your smile, but didn’t miss the way your hand seemed to subconsciously drift to the necklace clasped around your neck.

Maybe you could be friends with Yoongi without hoping for more. This was enough. More wasn’t needed in your group's little world.

The graduation party was anything but boring.

It was a small thing. Your brother had organized it, claiming he was the party planner of the family, which you didn't complain about. Your parents just let him roll with it, too tired to put up a fight. So he'd invited your friends and their parents, throwing a small and—for once—modest celebration in your honor. And then the night began.

About halfway through, full of food and about to pass out for the night, you made your way to the backyard. It was no secret you could go on and on for hours, talking to Yoongi's parents about how he used to be as a kid or sneaking sips of champagne with Hari, Taehyung, and Jimin. But the night had been long and you just wanted a moment of silence—silence that you had been used to when you were a kid.

But as you made your way outside, your eyes landed on someone sitting at the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water. As you stepped closer, you realized this person was actually Yoongi. You couldn't help but smile.

"Hey," you murmured as you sat beside him and stuck your feet in the cool water.

His eyes lifted up to reach yours, crinkling as he scrunched his nose and gave you a smile. "Hey, kid."

You scooted closer and latched onto him, linking your arms and resting your head on his shoulder. You'd missed this. You'd missed him. "What are you doing out here?" you felt yourself ask.

He hesitantly reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers together. He released a sigh. "Needed air."

You nodded against his shoulder. "Stress?"

"Something like that."

"Just don't take up smoking."

What? Why would you say that? You scolded yourself. It seemed distance had made you grow more nervous around him.

"It's just—I hear it's a bad habit," you tried to salvage your words. "Like stress reliever, sure, but—“

But Yoongi only laughed under his breath, cutting you off for your own good. "Don't worry, kid. I wouldn't dream of it."

"OK . . . good."

God, was this awkward. No, you were sure you were the one making it awkward. Yoongi wasn't.

"My parents think I'm wasting my twenties," he confessed, suddenly.

"Oh."

"That's why . . . " he trailed off, looking down. "We got into a fight at the party. That's why I'm out here. I just—I couldn't look at them anymore. They look at me like I'm . . . like I'm a failure."

You squeezed your eyes shut, lifting your head from his shoulder. You had always known Yoongi's parents never supported his passion. You both had talked about it for hours when you were younger. He'd always just had your support, and that used to be enough. You weren't sure if it was enough anymore, though.

"You're not a failure, Yoon," were the words that came out of your mouth as you squeezed his hand in comfort. "It doesn't matter what they say or what they think . . . you're not a failure."

He only sighed. "I just want to make them proud."

A beat of silence.

Then, you spoke. "I'm proud of you."

His eyes met yours, searching.

You offered a small smile. "You've made me proud."

The corner of his lip twitched, but he didn't smile.

You took your chances then, lifting a hand to his face, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "It takes guts to do what you're doing. It's admirable, Yoon. Really, it is. What you're doing—" you paused, your hand stilling against his face— "it's important. What you're doing is important. You owe it to yourself to continue."

Yoongi did smile then. "When did you get so smart?"

"I always have been."

"Cocky."

"Sometimes being cocky is good."

He pinched your nose. "Always stay the same, kid."

A comforting silence fell upon the two of you as you dropped your hand and leaned your head back on his shoulder, letting the ripples of the pool water fill your hearing. Your eyes fluttered closed then, allowing yourself to solidify this moment in your brain. You didn't realize just how much you'd missed him. And then you realized having him in your life as a friend was more important than anything else. You had to let go of the idea of you and him together. His friendship was more important than some romance you were sure you could find again.

You never had to let him go.

You just had to let it go; let your feelings for him go.

It would be better this way.

But despite this, you couldn't help the itching question on your mind. What could you say? You were nosey. So it was no surprise to you when you said, "Um . . . so I heard about your breakup. You alright? You can, like, talk or vent or whatever about it . . . you know."

Yoongi chuckled. "There's not much to say," he hummed, his voice calm. "Just didn't work out. No bad blood. No nothing. Just . . . just two different people who wanted different things."

"What did you want?"

You could have sworn you felt him stiffen beside you.

"Sorry—" you rushed out, feeling awkward. "I didn't mean to—"

"I wanted more. I want . . . more," he confessed, cutting you off.

You lifted your head from his shoulder. "More?"

He glanced your way, eyes on you. "Something epic, I guess."

You snorted. "Min Yoongi, are you a hopeless romantic?"

As a half-grin lifted onto his face, his eyes trailed over your features. "Something like that," he murmured.

"Well—" you wet your lips, amused— "good luck."

"What? Do you not believe in that anymore?" he asked, nudging you with his arm.

You blew a raspberry. "I don't know. Maybe in college I'll find it, but . . . I don't know."

"You haven't already?" he questioned, his face falling like he was shocked or maybe . . . disappointed ( . . . ? ). "Found it, I mean."

"In high school?" you snorted, feeling a weight on your chest. Of course, you'd found it. You'd found it in him, but that wasn't real. Maybe if he felt the same then it'd be real, but . . . he didn't. What you felt for him was surely considered puppy love. Right? One-sided puppy love? That wasn't real. That was nothing.

You realized you had been staring at him for far too long then. You cleared your throat, averting your gaze to the water surrounding you. "I don't think I've found it," you murmured. "It kind of feels . . . intangible."

"Right."

"Have you?"

"What?"

"Come on, you've had like how many girls, some guys even, attached to your hip since you left, you're telling me you didn't feel anything for any of them?" you asked, teasing him.

He smirked at that. "Have you been stalking me?"

You rolled your eyes. "Get a grip, Yoon. My brother calls me to tell me everything," you said. "He's really such a gossip queen, honestly."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Uh, I don't know . . . " he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Before I left, I didn't really know who I was. But . . . being alone . . . being away from home . . . I guess it's opened my eyes to what I really want . . . "

"Cryptic."

"What I had with the people I’ve been with, with my ex—" he huffed out a sigh— "it wasn't special." His eyes lifted to yours. "Call me whatever you want, but . . . I want something real. I didn't really realize I'd been settling . . . I guess . . . until I came back. Being home . . . it's brought back memories and shit that I didn't even really realize I'd felt until I came back."

Maybe he was harboring a crush for someone back home or maybe he finally realized he wanted to find the real thing. Either way . . . you'd support it. You knew you would.

"Wow, so you do have a heart," you hummed, a teasing smile on your face.

He laughed, lightly pushing your face away from him. "You're an asshole."

"What?" you snorted. "Not my fault my brother's been playing you up as this mega-player. I thought maybe constantly having your dick wet made your heart shrivel up with it."

He scoffed. "My dick is not shriveled."

You scrunched your face. "Are you sure?"

"No, you're right," he hummed. "It fell off, actually."

You grin, holding back your laughter. "Thought so."

He only shook his head, laughing slightly.

"Well—" you clapped a hand down on his back— "I hope you find the love of your life and live happily ever after. Hopefully, they'll be able to look past your shriveled dick." You laughed at that, amusing yourself.

But you weren't laughing long as you felt two hands suddenly shove you forward, causing you to fall into the water. You resurfaced only a second later, your ears being filled with Yoongi's laughter as you wiped your eyes and glared at him. You watched as the boy clutched his stomach, his shoulders shaking while he laughed.

"You are a bitch," you huffed, shivering in the water.

Yoongi only laughed harder.

Your glare intensified, and then an idea popped into your head. A sly grin slipped onto your face as you splashed water at him, drenching his clothes. He stopped laughing then, his eyes finding yours . . . and you knew you were fucked.

Your face dropped. "No!" you yelled, pointing a finger at him. "I know what you're thinking. Don't you dare." You had begun backing up in the pool, getting further away from him, but you knew it was too late.

Yoongi smirked before he jumped into the water, slowly making his way toward you as you backed up. You heard yourself shout one more time before his hands were on you, carrying you in his arms briefly before he let go, throwing you into the deep end as a scream ripped through you. The water burned your nose and eyes, but you didn't care, you resurfaced in the water, gasping. You groaned, wiping your eyes to see Yoongi laughing at you, which only irritated you more. That was when you attacked.

While he was laughing, you lunged for his back, clasping your arms around his neck as your legs hooked around his waist, trying your hardest to knock him over. But Yoongi only laughed harder, his hands coming around your arms to squeeze them.

"Stop laughing!" you shouted, still trying to knock him over in the water.

"I can't help it."

"You won't be laughing when I kill you."

But Yoongi did laugh at that. "Cute."

"Shut up," you huffed, not giving up. "I am not—"

But you didn't get to finish your sentence as Yoongi bent his knees, sinking the two of you into the water. You resurfaced a second later, coughing the water out of your lungs. You were still clinging onto Yoongi, your arms around his neck and legs locked around his waist, but it didn't feel unusual. It felt like you two were kids again.

"You're dead, Min," was all you managed to get out as you accepted defeat and rested your cheek against his back, trying to catch your breath.

"You're cute, kid," he said in response.

You flicked his ear in response, but couldn't hide the bashful expression which crossed your face. You knew his words were innocent. You did not look into it. You were friends.

And this time, you didn't get your hopes up.

You did not see Yoongi for the remainder of that year.

You talked to Seokjin on the phone a lot, hearing bits and pieces about their lives. Yoongi had a new girlfriend now. Funny enough, she just so happened to be Han Daeun—the girl you’d seen him with by his car. They’d met again at some bar, and hit it off, according to your older brother. You supposed she had been the one he was talking about that night after your graduation. It made sense now.

You didn’t call to congratulate Yoongi. Why would you anyway? That’d be too weird, even for you guys. Hey, I know we haven't talked in a long time but I just wanted to wish you the best. Yeah, weird.

You tried not to be jealous, but there was still that bitter sting in your chest when you found out the news. But . . . it was lesser now. The distance had softened the ache that he had left within you, even if there were nights when you’d look back at your old childhood diary and allow yourself to let a few tears slip at the memories.

Remembering the past hurt.

But you stayed occupied.

You had to as your first year as an adult wasn’t exactly ideal. You had dropped out of college within the first month, not because you couldn’t handle it or were falling behind, but because you knew this was not the path that had been carved for you. Your path was somewhere else. It was getting your hands dirty, getting your name and your pieces out into the world of art.

Your career was a work in process, but you were getting there.

From dusk till dawn you worked. You applied everywhere, trying to book gallery after gallery, and it paid off as you were contacted to submit a few pieces for the grand opening of a new gallery. Your hands were calloused and withered, but you didn’t care. Soon, the name Yoongi had stuffed into the back of your mind, allowing your work to be the center of your attention.

This was how you got over him.

But one night, just as you were finishing up in your studio, your phone pinged. You’d received a text . . . from Yoongi.

Yoon Your brother told me about the gallery. I’m proud of you. :)

You stared at the text for a few minutes, clutching the necklace around your neck that he had given you before you reached to reply.

You typing . . . I miss you

But your thumb hovered over the send button. Your eyes flicked back to his text, and it dawned on you that you couldn’t hit send.

His words had stuck with you. They had been innocent just as they always had been. This was your relationship now: sending each other support every few months, but never anything more. There would be no more basketball matches or piano lessons. Just this. It would never be as it used to be.

And you had to be fine with that.

You were, you decided that night.

You would let it all go—all the love, all the memories, all the hurt. You’d let it all go for this: a few simple encouraging words from an old friend.

A smile lifted onto your face as your thoughts agreed with each other. Then, you erased your previous message, and typed a new one before you nodded and hit send.

You Thank you, Yoon.

You had invited Hari over to celebrate her first month of college, along with Taehyung and Jimin. Of course, your roommate, Namjoon was already there—the same boy you had shared your first kiss with. You’d grown closer to him over the past year or so. He’d found you one day, struggling to carry your canvases to your studio while he was heading to class. He’d skipped to help you, and once you got to talking, he had managed to convince you to let him be your unofficial-official assistant. He claimed it would be the work experience he’d need when he graduated and went on to start his own business.

You hadn’t known exactly what he meant as it made no sense whatsoever, but you did like the idea of someone running your errands for you. And with a handshake, you had an agreement. The rest was history . . .

Now, at your apartment, your group was situated around the small coffee table. It was Namjoon’s idea to play Russian Roulette—a stupid drinking game with cards that he claimed he had made up, but you were sure he was full of shit. (Taehyung had wanted to play Go Fish, but everyone ignored . . . that.)

With six shot glasses in front of the group, only a few being full of vodka, the five of you guys immersed yourselves in the game. And when it got to the fifth round, you pulled your card, only to discover you had the lowest number for the third time in a row. Your friends bellowed out cheers, while you groaned.

“What the fuck?!” you whined, throwing your head back. “That’s the third fucking time!”

“Sucks to suck,” Jimin laughed.

You jumped at him, the boy falling backward as Namjoon pulled you away from him.

“Woah, woah, woah, no need to get hostile,” Namjoon voiced. “Just take the loss like a man and throw it back.”

You glared at him over your shoulder. “I’m gonna smother you in your sleep.”

Namjoon blinked. “And on that note, I think Jimin should take the boss’s shot!”

“Yah!” Jimin shouted. “She lost!”

Taehyung’s hand shot up in the air. “I say they fight to the death for it!”

A slap on his chest from Hari made him lower his hand. “Don’t be stupid,” she huffed. “Jimin take the shot.”

Jimin only gasped.

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck, fine!” you groaned as you picked from the six shot glasses and hoped you had picked water. You didn’t think as you took the shot, quickly discovering it was, in fact, vodka. You gagged at the taste, but swallowed it down. “Fuck you guys. Did you fill all of them with vodka?”

Jimin and Taehyung eyed each other.

You raised your brows. “Did you?”

Taehyung tilted his head. “Well—”

But there was a knock at your door that interrupted him. You rolled your eyes as you told them you’d be back, leaving the four to loudly fight over the fact that the two boys had ruined the game. You reached the door, swinging it open only for your eyes to meet those of the same person you hadn’t seen since you graduated over a year ago.

“Yoongi?” you breathed out, your voice a whisper.

He gave you that same sweet half-grin, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling slightly as he saw your face. “Hey, kid.”

You scrunched your brows. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” he said, his words slurring slightly.

He was drunk.

You stiffened. “You’re drunk.”

His grin fell and his head dropped at your words as he brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I am,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I knew it was a bad idea to show up. I . . . I was gonna call but I dropped my phone at the club.” He still didn’t meet your eyes. “Your brother—He went home with a girl, and to be honest, I did not want to be there for it . . . so he gave me your address . . . “

“And?”

Yoongi sheepishly looked up. “I was wondering if I could sleep on your couch?”

You released a sigh, leaning against the doorway. “Isn’t your girlfriend in town? Can’t you stay there?”

“I would, but I don’t know my rights from my lefts. We're also kind of fighting right now. That—That’s why I’m—I think we’re over. I don’t know. I also don’t think I could make it anyway,” Yoongi slurred, laughing slightly. “Like, there’s definitely two of you right now, which honestly isn’t that bad of a sight but—”

“Fine,” you cut him off, trying to ignore the fact that he'd just confessed he and his girlfriend were having problems. You didn't want to hope they'd break up. That was a horrible thing to wish upon him. (But . . . you also couldn't help it.) “You can come in.” You pushed the door, swinging it open enough for the boy (man, now?) to stumble in.

Getting Yoongi to lay down was a hassle on its own. As soon as he entered your apartment, he’d recognized Namjoon, and started going on about how he was gonna kick his ass if he touched you again. He’d even tried to pry Namjoon off the couch, but due to his intoxicated state, he ended up slumping against the floor, giving up entirely. Only then was it possible for you and Namjoon to carry him to your room, where he’d be sleeping for the night. (There was no way you were going to burden Namjoon by having your old friend sleep in your shared living room.)

And once Yoongi had kicked off his shoes, making himself incredibly at home, you rolled your eyes, telling Namjoon that you were just going to stay in your room to make sure he wouldn’t roll off the bed and die or something. He’d nodded, and quickly joined the others, closing the door behind him, and leaving the two of you alone.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, breathing a heavy sigh. You blinked a few times, your eyes drifting over to Yoongi’s sleeping figure on your bed, and something in your chest swelled. You let your emotions get the better of you as you sat down on the bed, reaching a hand for his hair that had been dyed mint-green now. You ran your fingers through it, massaging his scalp in the process as you came to the conclusion that his hair was a little shorter now and you liked it all the same.

You hated the fact that he had this effect on you; that no matter how much time had passed, you’d still be that same little girl watching him walk through your front door, thinking that he was the most beautiful person you had ever seen.

You halted your actions at that realization. You would always love him . . . wouldn’t you?

You didn't miss the way your eyes burned as those thoughts dawned on you. You were still so fucked.

But the wallowing in the dark alone didn’t last long as you felt Yoongi shift under you, groaning slightly as if he were whining . . . ? His hand found yours a second later as he rasped out, “Feel nice. More.”

You almost snorted at that, drying your eyes.

“No,” you mumbled as you reached for the glass of water that you managed to get before taking him into your room. “Drink.”

And Yoongi obliged, sitting up as he took the glass and chugged. Once he was done, he reached to put it on the bedside table before his eyes found yours. But they didn’t stay fixated on you for long, before he reached for you, pulling you into him by your waist and laying back down with you in his arms. You only groaned, quietly protesting at his sudden affection.

“Yoongi, get off, you fucker,” you huffed, but you didn’t pull away from him.

At that, Yoongi only snickered as he pulled you in tighter and buried his face into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I can’t sleep without hugging a pillow,” he mumbled into your skin, causing you to shiver at the feeling.

“So I’m a pillow now?”

“More or less.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Mmm, but I’m your asshole,” he sang as he squeezed your sides.

You smacked his back, pushing him away from you only enough so you could look him in the eyes. And with his arms still secured safely around you and your faces only a few inches apart, you swore your heart stopped. But Yoongi only smiled, his gums on display.

“You still have the necklace,” he hummed out as he pressed a hand to your chest where the necklace lay.

Your breath hitched in your throat. “I guess I couldn’t give it up.”

The smile on his face widened. “Good, never give up on . . .” he mumbled, trailing off probably due to his intoxicated state (but you could’ve sworn he had wanted to say something else) with his hand still on your chest. You swore he could feel your heart beating, and you hoped he wouldn’t think anything of it.

The silence consumed you then, you staring at Yoongi with wide eyes as he remained oblivious while he toyed with the necklace around your neck. He pulled on it slightly, causing you to move closer to him. His eyes snapped up to meet yours, then, and you felt like you were a lovestruck kid again.

“I missed you, angel,” he finally whispered.

Angel. He had never called you that before. Was it because he and his girlfriend were fighting? Did he think . . .

You didn’t smile this time, growing cold. “You always say that.”

The half-grin on Yoongi’s face slowly fell. “Did you not . . . miss, uh, miss me?”

You felt a lump forming in your throat. Yes. Of course, you missed him. You were sure you’d miss him forever. But . . . you couldn't have him looking at you like you were still that same lovesick child. It didn't matter if he broke up with his girlfriend or whatever! The fact of the matter still remained the same.

He would never be yours, and you weren’t his.

And Yoongi took your silence as an answer.

No, it seemed to hiss, and you let him believe that to be true because it was better than admitting you were still that stupid little girl, running away from him when you saw him making out with Daeun against his car.

“You’re my brother’s best friend,” you forced yourself to say. “That’s all, right?”

Yoongi blinked. “Right.”

You nodded. “So what’s there to miss?”

Yoongi met your gaze then. “Nothing, I guess.”

And then he was pulling away, turning around so his back was facing you as he wrapped his arms around himself. His breathing became slower, heavier, in the minutes to come, and you knew he had fallen asleep, but you couldn’t.

Letting go wasn’t easy, you decided. You would have to put the necklace away tomorrow. It would be wise to not see him after this. It would be wise . . .

“You guys are like family to me, so I figured now would be the best time to tell you that . . . I asked Daeun to marry me,” Yoongi announced, standing at the head of the dinner table with a beer in his hand and that half-grin on his face. “She said yes.”

The rim to the bottle of beer in your hand stopped at your lips as your friends and family erupted into cheers and loud applause, gathering around Yoongi to congratulate him. It was just supposed to be a small get-together with friends and family to celebrate their accomplishments that year; it was just supposed to be a normal day for you . . . until you heard Yoongi say those words.

He’d asked Daeun to marry him. The last time you saw him, he'd told you they were fighting. You thought that meant they were on the road to breaking up, not . . . getting engaged.

But you were wrong.

Yoongi was getting married. He was—

You pushed out of your seat, quickly apologizing that you needed some air before you headed outside to your backyard. Your feet were moving faster than you could think and your heart was hammering in your chest. You felt sick and mildly like you would throw up any second.

Min Yoongi was engaged.

He was fucking engaged.

And all you could feel was this deep anger boiling inside of you. It wasn’t that you hated him. You couldn’t even if you tried. Rather, you hated yourself. This anger was toward yourself and only toward you. Why did you have to fall for him of all people? Why did this heartache have to last so long? Why couldn’t you just move on?

You buried your face in your hands. You didn’t care if your makeup smeared. You wanted to rip the skin off anyway.

He was getting married, and there was nothing you could do about it except hate yourself even more. One childhood crush had managed to ruin your life. Even at twenty years old, you were just as fucked as you had been when you were ten. You’d loved him for a decade now . . . a decade too long.

You just couldn't let go. You never threw away the necklace. Hell, you still kept the paper ring you had made for him when you were twelve, in hopes that when you did turn twenty-five, he’d finally accept it. You still had hope as stupid and foolish as it seemed.

You should’ve let him go years ago.

But you couldn’t.

And just as you had begun to feel the burning in your eyes become worse, the door leading to the backyard slid open. You quickly wiped your eyes and cleared your throat before you stood to your feet, wiping your hands on your baggy jeans but you didn’t look to see who had invaded your space. You glanced up at the sky instead, discovering how quickly the sun had set. What a funny little thing time was, you thought.

And then you heard him . . .

“Hey, kid,” Yoongi spoke from behind you, his voice soft and calm, but a little gruffer than it used to be. He had changed. You still had trouble accepting this.

Nevertheless, you cleared your throat and put on the front you’d perfected before you turned around and met Yoongi’s dark gaze. Warm feline-like brown eyes stared back at you, nursing the wounds inflicted on your soul.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Hey.”

He took a hesitant step toward you, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweats. “Why’d you leave?” he questioned.

You wondered what he thought of you now. Had he truly believed you when you told him you didn’t miss him? Did he think your crush had faded away? You hoped he had. That would be easier to fathom.

So you tried your best to convince him you looked at him as if he were just your older brother’s best friend, and shrugged. “Don’t tell anyone, but—” you paused, trying to think of a lie— “I fainted in my studio over the weekend so, you know, obviously, I went to the doctor and my . . . iron levels are low. So, um, surprise, I’m anemic!”

Yoongi blinked at you, concern morphed onto his face (with a hint of . . . disappointment ( . . . ? ) in his eyes).

God, you were bad at this.

A hand flew to your face as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Anyway . . . I just . . . I thought I was gonna pass out, so . . . “ you let your words trail off as the silence finished your sentence.

He crossed the path toward you, reaching you in no time as one hand flew to secure around your arm while the other touched your forehead. “Are you getting help for it? No, sorry, do you need something to drink? Water? I feel like beer won’t help with the symptoms, right?” he rushed out, his face stern and solemn as he roamed concentrated eyes over your features while he checked your temperature with the back of his hand.

You blinked at him. “I’m . . . um, I’m fine,” you stuttered out as you took a step away from him, detaching his hands from your body. “It’s not like there’s much to do for it, just gotta keep watch.”

To be honest, you had no idea what exactly being anemic meant, but . . . it was either feed into the lie or confess that you were still in love with him. The latter seemed like the worst route to take, so lying it was.

And Yoongi seemed to believe you, so win-win, you supposed.

The next second, the silence had begun to eat away at you and you were forced to say something.

“You’re engaged,” was what you had opted for. Great start.

Yoongi, looking taken aback, stared at you, that same hint of disappointment in his eyes as he spent his time searching your features for something, although you couldn’t exactly tell what he was looking for. But you needn’t dwell on it for too long as he shook his head the next second, and let a warm smile touch his lips. “I’m engaged,” he confirmed.

The ache in your chest worsened as you forced yourself to smile. “I’m happy for you, Yoon,” you heard yourself say as you patted his shoulder. “Truly.”

Yoongi rested his hand over yours, squeezing it. “Thank you, kid,” he said, his voice a whisper.

A beat of silence.

“Your boyfriend’s nice,” Yoongi announced.

Another beat of silence. You shifted in your spot. You had almost forgotten you invited this guy you’d been seeing for the past few weeks. It wasn’t anything serious. None of these flings you had ever were.

“Not my boyfriend,” you finally said after a minute. “More like a fuck buddy.”

Yoongi gave you that same damn look you had always hated before he opened his mouth, “You’re—”

“Too young for that?” you finished for him, a small smirk sliding onto your face. “I know you too well, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi leaned in closer to you, his face solemn. “And I know you well enough to know you don’t want this,” he whispered, his voice scratchy as his eyes searched yours. “That little girl who believed in magic is still in there.” He laughed, remembering the past. “You would watch Matilda over and over again because you said art to you was like your power . . . like your gift just as telekinesis was hers. You—you believe in magic. You believe in doing the impossible. You believe in . . . love.” He cleared his throat only once. “You believe in love. I know you do.”

What answer was he looking for? He wouldn’t find the girl he had grown up with. The past was in the past, there was no remanence of it in those eyes of yours. There was just heartache hidden behind dead eyes and dark eye bags.

“I remember you used to make me watch romcoms with you when Jin would fall asleep,” he went on. “Come on, where’s the girl who wanted her first kiss to be special?”

Confusion twisted onto your face. Why would he ask you that? He had no place.

But, still, you did not want to fight today. You didn’t want him to think you still felt something toward him, so you did your best to mask your emotions, and simply smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. And then, you looked him dead in the eyes and said, “She grew up.”

Yoongi blinked, taken aback. He shook his head and cleared his throat a second later, his eyes drifting down your attire, but it was a fleeting glance. Still, he managed to mumble out, “I can see that.”

You stood your ground, clicking your tongue. “Well, should we go back inside then?” you questioned.

Yoongi only nodded.

With that, you patted him on the shoulder once before you walked by him and headed for the door. But before you slid it open, you turned your head over your shoulder and called out to him. He turned around, his eyes on you, but he was looking at you in a way he had never looked at you before. It felt . . . intimate; too much so for you to handle.

“Congrats,” you forced yourself to say before you could melt under his gaze. “I mean it. I wish you and Daeun all the best.” You forced a smile on your face. “Promise I’ll get to be godmother one day?”

Yoongi’s brows twitched, and for a second you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of sadness stretching across his face. But it was gone before you could even blink.

“I promise,” he finally replied, his voice low and soft . . . mellow even.

You stuck your hand up, your pinky finger on display. You lifted your brows once. “Pinky promise?”

A small smile tugged at Yoongi’s lips as he mirrored your actions, sticking his pinky finger up. “Pinky promise,” he hummed.

But neither of you moved to lock your fingers together. You didn’t need to. The both of you knew what this gesture meant.

It was a promise—another one to add to your little jar of pinky promises you had kept over the years. You wondered how many of those the two of you had broken already as you walked inside and left Yoongi outside alone.

Half a year later, you found yourself sitting through Yoongi and Daeun’s wedding. They decided to have it quicker than expected, opting for a winter ceremony as per Daeun’s request. Daeun had even offered for you to be one of her bridesmaids, but Yoongi had refused, claiming you had to be one of his best men or rather best woman in this scenario. And how could you refuse?

Your dress was red as was Seokjin’s tie and the rest of the wedding party. After the ceremony, your brother insisted on wearing a pin that said ‘best man’ and quickly went to the champagne flutes that were displayed in the dining hall for the reception. He’d be giving a speech later, but you’d seen him act sober before, so whatever.

That didn’t stop Hoseok from going over to him, trying to get the man to slow down before the champagne shot out his nose. You rolled your eyes, laughing slightly at the two boys you had grown up with as you slowly made your way to the table where your seat was located.

As people floated into the room, taking their seats, you watched in melancholy. You watched familiar faces converse with each other, talking about the now bride and groom. And you knew it was wrong, but as you sat there, you secretly imagined that this had been your wedding.

You almost smiled at the thought, but caught yourself just in time. It really was time to throw that damned paper ring in the trash.

But before your thoughts could go too far, you suddenly heard someone call out your name, tearing you from your mind.

Your eyes flicked up to see Hari waving over to you. You waved back, a wide smile slowly crawling onto your face. You watched as Taehyung and Jimin stepped in the room after Hari, whacking each other and then scolding the other as they did so. Hari turned around, tugging on their ears and hissing something to them that quickly made them straighten their posture. And like clockwork, Namjoon strolled in, looking completely oblivious as the three turned to glare at him. (Yoongi had warmed up to Namjoon over the years, finally accepting him into his life . . . (but you still had to beg him to invite him to the wedding.).

This was a happy time, you tried to remind yourself. You should be happy just as they were . . . but you knew you weren't.

It appeared Hari had noticed this too as she quickly stopped Taehyung and Jimin from going over to bother you. The thing was: Jung Hari knew about the feelings you harbored for Yoongi, and she knew what this day meant for you. That also meant she knew not to bother you. (Couldn’t have one of the best men (best woman? Whatever!) crying into a champagne flute before the reception even started.)

And you had managed to keep your emotions in check throughout the majority of the reception. You kept a happy face, smiling at Yoongi and his bride. You conversed with his friends from college, explaining you were Seokjin’s kid sister, which basically meant Yoongi was like an older brother to you (if only, then this wouldn’t be so hard). You laughed, and made jokes, and did everything you were supposed to do. You were absolutely perfect.

Until it got to the speeches.

Daeun’s friends went first, sharing how they met the bride and the first time they were introduced to Yoongi. Then was the bride’s mother, and her sister following shortly after. All the while, you clutched the piece of paper in your hand where you had written your speech, secretly wishing this stupid scrap paper had been your vows and not . . . this. And while you feared you may suffocate under all the pressure, Seokjin stood up to give his speech. It wasn’t long, rather it was short and sweet and filled with all the humorous things they had done as kids. He even mentioned the little basketball scrimmages he, Yoongi, Hoseok, and you would have.

And then it was your turn . . .

With the clearing of your throat, you stood from your seat, paper still clutched tightly in your hand. Seokjin hadn’t sat down, still grinning widely as if he felt the need to stand by and guard his sister while you gave your speech. Which . . . whatever, you felt oddly more sure of yourself with your brother by your side, so your eyes found his first before you moved on to the other guests.

Your eyes roamed over the tables of people, finally landing on Yoongi, and then your heart began to race. You swallowed your feelings and cleared your throat once more before your eyes landed on the stupid speech you had written.

“Um . . . for those I haven’t had the chance to meet properly I’m Seokjin's sister and the groom's favorite Kim sibling . . . and this has got to be one of the happiest days of my life,” you began, as you lifted your eyes and began to put on the performance of your life. “From day one, Yoongi and my brother were like these two peas in a pod. I honestly think they even went to the bathroom together. You know, one does his business while the other hands him toilet paper. Weird, weird boys . . . “

Light laughter filtered throughout the room as you trailed off. You smiled slightly as your eyes drifted back down to your words on the paper. “Um, but, uh, with that came other things,” you began again. “Having an older brother is like having your personal guardian angel from the moment you’re born. Some of us aren’t as lucky as others, but, I . . . I was lucky enough to have two protectors.” Your eyes found Yoongi’s. “Yoongi’s been my protector from the day I met him . . . just . . . just like my older brother here.” You patted Seokjin’s shoulder.

“I mean he’s been pulling me out of the street when I’ve stepped in front of cars for years now,” you went on, trying to make your words flow, but failing. “He’s tied my shoes when they’ve come undone. I mean—” you gave an awkward laugh— “on my sixteenth birthday, I got so drunk I literally thought I was gonna die, and as always Yoongi was there to, let’s say, nurse me back to health.” You laughed again, wishing to disappear. “It’s funny how—”

But you cut yourself off, the realization dawning on you that these were not the words you wanted to leave with him before he started the rest of his life with someone else. For all you knew . . . this . . . this would be the last time you’d ever see him.

You sighed at your thoughts, squeezing your eyes shut as you nodded in acceptance. You folded the piece of paper, and breathed out a heavy breath before you lifted your head once again, your eyes finding Yoongi’s quickly. And you didn’t look away.

“I was a lonely kid,” you began, your voice softer now. “Yoongi came into my life when I was probably the loneliest I’ve ever been. From then, he’s only ever given me light . . . hope.” The corners of your lips twitched. “I mean the first time we met, he offered me, his friend’s kid sister, a slice of pizza because he noticed I was practically staring it down like I’d been starved for weeks. That already says something because oh, my god, imagine a small child eyeing you like you’re a chicken thigh. I would never do that, but . . . Yoongi would. That’s just who he is.”

You didn’t care to look at the audience's reaction. You only cared about Yoongi’s, and much to your surprise, the boy was staring at you, his eyes soft with a small, warm smile on his face.

“He cares,” you spoke again, your voice strained. “He notices things most of us don’t, and he shows he cares through small acts. He loves quietly but it’s endless, eternal . . . free.” You let a tight-lipped smile form on your face as you felt your eyes begin to burn with tears. “That is why I am so happy he has met someone who will love him in the same way back.”

Your eyes briefly glanced over at Daeun, before you averted your gaze to your open-toed heels. You blinked then, feeling a few tears slip down your cheeks. But you quickly wiped them away, grinning widely to make it appear as though you were crying tears of joy. Then your eyes found Yoongi’s again, searching them, but you didn’t know exactly what you were looking for. You just knew you didn’t want to look away.

And then you continued, “Choosing the person you want to share your life with is one of the most important decisions any of us makes ever, because when it’s wrong, it haunts you. You can’t escape that ghost—it’s ever-present and consuming and—and soul-crushing, and you don’t realize you’re being haunted by your mistakes until you wake up one day and realize years have gone by. We both know the consequences of our mistakes, Yoon. You’ve gotten me through most of mine.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you caught sight of the tears glossing Yoongi’s eyes while he lifted a hand to massage his chin, trying to conceal his expression. You both knew the troubles you'd gone through. You knew the loveless hookups you'd had, and the times Yoongi had told you they didn't deserve you. You'd heard about his breakups. You both had known the ghosts in your lives, and you'd supported each other through it all.

So, the only thing you could do was smile at him—a warm, genuine smile.

“Your friendship has brought this feeling of weightlessness into my life. I’ve been able to get through my hardships because I always knew that even if no one had my back . . . you would,” you confessed, suddenly feeling as though the only person in the room was Min Yoongi, the first and perhaps only boy you would ever love. “I hope I haven’t taken you for granted . . . although I’m sure I have. I’ve given you no other choice but to deal with my temper tantrums—”

Seokjin cut you off, “And she has a lot of those.”

You felt yourself laugh with the audience. “Thank you, big brother,” you muttered as you lightly smacked his chest. “You are such a peach yourself.”

The audience laughed again, but you were only looking at Yoongi. He hadn’t laughed. He remained the same, his eyes glossy as he hid his expression with his hand, trying to keep that cool and calm exterior he always wore.

But you had learned how to read him well.

You knew how he would interpret your words. This wasn’t a speech to send him off into his new life with all the luck in the world . . . this was an apology—an apology for all the years you had blamed him for not reciprocating the feelings you had borne. This was an apology for childishly treating him as if he were the villain when it had been you all along.

This was how you apologized to him, and you both knew it all too well.

You would no longer be his ghost.

You swore it.

And as this all became clear to the two of you, you felt another tear spill down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away with a laugh. “Um, sorry, sorry,” you mumbled on, still weakly laughing slightly. “Yoongi, I’ve spent years taking your friendship for granted. And I know I have because sometimes . . . amidst all the ghosts of those mistakes . . . you don’t realize that the best thing that has ever happened to you is sitting there right under your nose.” Your lips lifted into another warm smile, your eyes remaining glossy but never leaving his face as you slightly tilted your head. “But that’s fine too. It really is, because I’ve realized that . . . no matter where you are or what you’re doing or who you’re with . . . I will always . . . honestly . . . truly . . . completely . . . love you.”

There was a loud silence as those words left your lips, but you didn’t care. You just kept looking at Yoongi, and as you gazed at him, your eyes whispering your apology, you watched as a single tear trickled down Yoongi’s cheek. But he wiped it away as quickly as it had fallen.

That was when it dawned on you that you were still standing, gazing at a married man. You quickly cleared your throat and straightened your posture as you bit out the words, “Like a sister—” you smacked Seokjin’s chest— “loves a brother.”

“Ow,” Seokjin hissed.

But you ignored him. “Or a friend loves a friend,” you rushed out, gesturing to Yoongi. “I’ll always support your dreams as you have supported mine . . . no matter how weird or twisted they may have gotten or, god-forbid, will get.” You cleared your throat once more as you grabbed your champagne flute and lifted it in the air. “So, please, everybody join me in a toast to the bride and groom.”

Seokjin raised his first, officially starting the toast. “Huzzah!” he jokingly cheered before he downed the liquid.

“Huzzah,” you mumbled, quickly sitting down as the next speaker stood.

But you weren’t paying attention. Your mind was elsewhere. And almost as if you could sense someone looking at you, your eyes snapped up, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. Your heart swelled at the sight.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, the warm smile on his face never leaving.

You had only smiled back.

Of course, your smile seemed to say, anything for you.

Anything for him.

Time was a tricky thing for you to wrap your head around, not because it was a particularly hard topic, but rather because of how quickly it actually passed. One second you were watching as Yoongi and Daeun sped off in a car that had Just Married written across it, your heart bleeding as you watched them go. And then the next second, you were standing in front of a whole audience, discussing your art pieces and the meaning behind all of them with a large, accomplished grin on your face.

Time was tricky because it was quick. It was filled with equal parts of bad and good memories. Time was just that . . . tricky.

And as time passed, a year quickly going by, and you living to see your twenty-first birthday, you realized just how far you had come.

You were now being offered job after job, people from all over commissioning you to create pieces for grand openings and whatnot. You had finally done it—made a name for yourself in the world of art. Hell, your name had even made local headlines by now. And while fortune was in your favor, you also made sure to make time to check up on your loved ones.

Your brother was off working at your father’s company, going on date after date. Hoseok always called to say how much he hated his boring office job, but he wasn’t miserable. After all, the Jung man ended up teaching tennis classes on his free days, finding more comfort in that than anything else. Hari, Taehyung, and Jimin were in their last year of college, so nothing new there . . . except, you know, Hari and Taehyung had finally decided to announce they started dating shortly after the wedding (Jimin was still refusing to be tied down, but they all knew that was just a front). Namjoon, well, Namjoon ended up begging Seokjin to hire him at the company, to which Seokjin obliged . . . only if he brought him breakfast every morning (which he obviously agreed to). And then there was Yoongi . . .

You had talked to Yoongi on and off for the past year, only really calling him to tell him about whatever new accomplishment you had achieved. And every time he’d tell you he was proud. His support gave you confidence; it gave you hope.

You’d tried to ask him about any gigs he’d gotten or any news about someone picking up the album, but he always redirected your questions, changing the topic. You supposed he didn’t want to talk about it, but you still managed to remind him that he always had your support; that he could do anything and all it took was a little time. And every time, he’d always just promise you that he’d try to believe in you so he could believe in himself.

He didn’t talk much about his new life or Daeun. You knew he had taken a job at your father’s company, working alongside your friends, but he never talked much about how he liked it. But he had always liked his privacy so you assumed there was nothing wrong.

Then one night, you had called him to tell him of the news you had just received. You see, the thing was: a couple days ago: you had received a call from an agent located in Busan. They’d called with an offer . . . one that, at first, seemed too good to be true. But as you researched and researched, you discovered the opportunities that these offers would give you would put you on the map, not only in South Korea but possibly all over Europe and even in the States. The only catch was . . . you would have to relocate to Busan that coming new year for a contract that would last a total of four years.

And the first person you thought of to tell this news to was . . . of course, Yoongi. But . . . when he answered, you immediately knew he was drunk and all other thoughts escaped your mind. You couldn’t tell him now. That would’ve been cruel.

“They decided to go with someone else,” Yoongi confessed into the phone, and you instantly knew what he had meant. He’d sent in a demo of a few of his original pieces to some real-deal agency and he’d been waiting to hear back from them. Neither of you guys had expected this . . .

“What do you mean, Yoon? Who?” you asked regardless.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

You felt your heart stop, already knowing what he meant. “What? What happened?”

“Daeun—” Yoongi paused, and it sounded as if he had stopped to take a swig of whatever he was drinking— “she says that this is for the best. She told me that, uh, that I should just focus on getting promoted at work instead of . . . wasting my time on music.“ His words trailed off, his breathing becoming heavier. “You know and . . . maybe she’s right. Maybe I should just give up this childish dream, huh? Settle down and have a kid. Doesn’t sound too bad.”

Fuck. You slid to your floor, eyes squeezed shut. “Yoon . . . “

“Fuck . . . I wanted it so bad, kid,” Yoongi breathed out, his voice strained. “I didn’t think I could want something so much, but I do. I did.” He cleared his throat, but you knew he was only fighting back a sob. “This . . . life . . . is too much. It’s pointless. Pointless to waste my time on fairytales. There had to be a point where I’d give up and just . . . settle, right? Fuck, I mean I’ve settled before for other things that are way more important than this . . . I guess it’s about time I settle for this nine to five, too, huh?”

You ached for him. “Where are you now? I’ll come to get you and we can talk and cry and watch stupid movies. We can—we can watch Matilda. Yeah, we’ll do that, and everything will be better in the morning. I promise,” you rushed out. “No, no, I pinky promise as stupid as it is. I swear on everything—”

But Yoongi cut you off by whispering your name, his voice soft. “You really are an angel, you know that, right?” he questioned, his words causing the tears you had been holding back to finally fall. “You were always too good for me. I’ve never . . . I’ve never deserved you. I want you to know that.”

“Yoongi . . . “ you murmured, your voice sympathetic.

“No, no—” Yoongi quickly rushed out, his words slurred— “I mean it. I’m sorry . . . for everything.”

Your eyes squeezed shut at his words as you leaned your head against the wall, letting yourself cry silently so he wouldn’t hear. You wet your bottom lip and gathered the courage to speak, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“If only that were true,” Yoongi muttered, laughing slightly. “I think there may be too much I have to apologize for.”

“Well, don’t,” you started. “Don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear it. You’re already forgiven. No matter what, I’m on your side. The only thing I need to hear right now is that you’re safe. OK? Can you tell me if you’re safe?”

“I’m safe, angel,” Yoongi hummed, but his voice was still strained. He was forcing himself not to break . . . for you.

You only cried harder, muffling your sobs with the back of your hand. You hadn’t known exactly what had overcome you, just that you wished you could take this pain he felt and bottle it up. You would bear his pain if it meant he’d finally be able to breathe. You knew you would. You always had just as he had done for you.

Only, you couldn’t carry his pain this time. That was perhaps the reason you had begun to sob.

“Can I come get you?” you asked after a second, desperation in your voice.

This was not the voice of a lover, this was a concerned friend needing to know the other was in good hands. You both knew this. There were no catches to your friendship, just unconditional care—the pure kind; the kind only written or read about.

“Stay home,” he only said, sighing softly. “Just . . . just stay on the phone, yeah? Just until I fall asleep or you do?” His voice was weaker when he spoke again. “Please?”

And you couldn’t do anything except agree. “I will,” you breathed. “I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

“I know, kid. I know.”

Only a week passed before you got a call from Seokjin, telling you that Yoongi had stopped by your parents’ place for dinner. And that was when you decided you’d drop everything and rush to reach him as you were sure your support hadn’t been getting to him recently.

When you arrived, your brother had pointed to the backyard, quickly stating that Yoongi was out there, smoking a cigarette to relieve stress. He’d gone out there twenty minutes ago and no one had spoken to him since, too afraid they’d say the wrong thing and end up having him push them even more away. It seemed this last rejection had been it for him. He’d tried so long, only to be let down time and time again. But this . . . this had been the final push.

Deep down, everyone in the Kim household knew one thing: you could be the one to let him see the light again. And deep down, they were all waiting for you to show up. Because they all knew, there was only one person that could talk Yoongi down from the edge.

That person would always be you.

But as soon as you stepped one foot into your backyard, your eyes on Yoongi’s back, you knew something was different.

And then you spoke . . .

“Hey, Yoon,” you hummed, closing the sliding door behind you and taking a step toward him.

His back stiffened at the sound of your voice, but he didn’t move. A second passed. He took one last drag from his cigarette—which was apparently a new habit he’d picked up over the past year—before he glanced over his shoulder, eyes connecting with yours. You stilled at the sight.

His hair was back to black now as it had been since the wedding. He’d briefly told you Daeun said it made him look more professional, and how could you argue with that? He wouldn’t listen to you anyway. And now, seeing him in the flesh as he put out the cigarette and sent you a tight-lipped smile, you realized just how different he looked. Odd.

You stepped toward the man, standing beside him. “I understand that this is hard, Yoon, just please—”

“I’m gonna take Daeun’s advice,” he suddenly said, cutting you off. “I talked to my parents and they agreed it'd be best, so . . . I’m gonna focus more at work, and put more time in. Maybe in the Spring, we’ll be able to start a family and we’ll go from there.”

You could only blink in shock. “So you’re just giving up?”

“No, I’m—I’m . . . “

“Settling?”

“No.”

“Well, I don’t accept it.”

A scoff left Yoongi’s lips—it was dry and void of emotion. “It’s not your decision to make. This is between me and my wife,” he bitterly spat.

You couldn’t believe it. He was actually going to give up . . . on everything. The same boy that told you your dreams were special had just told you he was giving up on his. And all you could do was rush out, “Is this really how you want to live your life? Settling for the mundane life that we always shit on? What happened to giving it your all? What happened to the world-renowned musician that would put on piano recitals just for his friend’s stupid little sister? Huh?”

“Don’t,” Yoongi grumbled, narrowing his gaze. “Don’t pretend like you know how it feels.”

“Why are you acting like this?” you suddenly asked, disbelief in your voice. “I just want to help you. I want you to see that this is not your only option.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “It’s not help, it’s pity. I especially don’t need that from you of all people.”

You squinted your eyes, tilting your head slightly to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

For a split second, guilt touched his features but he quickly turned away from you, trudging his fingers through his dark hair. “God, why did they even call you?” he groaned out.

You felt yourself scoff. “Because we’re friends, Yoon,” you muttered, putting your hands on your hips. “I’m worried about you and so are they. Seokjin—”

“Seokjin,” Yoongi couldn’t help but scoff, cutting you off as he turned to face you but didn’t look you in the eyes. “We’re not friends. You said that yourself, remember? You’re just Seokjin’s kid sister.”

There was a chilling silence as your eyes widened at his words. You had told him that the night he crashed at your apartment years ago. You hadn't meant it, but it was clear he thought you had. But you weren’t thinking of that.

You weren’t thinking clearly at all as you slapped your hands against your thighs and scoffed, “Oh, fuck this!” You took a step toward him, pointing a scolding finger into his chest. “I am not a goddamn punching bag, Yoongi. You don’t want to deal with your shit, then fine, but don’t take it out on me when you know damn well all I’ve ever done is support you.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened, but only slightly. “It’s not—It’s not about that,” he murmured, his voice low. “You don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it?” you countered, your anger boiling in your chest now. “I’ve been trying to make my dreams happen ever since we ran away on that train to Busan. I don’t think you get it. This shit isn’t linear. You have bad times and good times. And yeah, sometimes that means you get rejected from an agency, but that does not mean you give up.” You shook your head, only once. “You give up and all of it was for nothing. Is that what you want?”

Yoongi pursed his lips, his face solemn and stiff. “Maybe it is,” he whispered with a small shrug.

You weren’t sure if it was another scoff that left your lips or a muffled yell of frustration. You just knew one moment you were a few inches away from him, then the next you were in his face, teeth clenched and jaw twitching.

“You wanna sit there and tell me how it is, then fine, do that, but you better know that I, yes, of all people, understand what it feels like to fail,” you sternly stated, your voice being raised into a quiet yell. “I dropped out of fucking college, Yoongi. I was almost kicked out on my own when my dad found out. I’ve been trying for three years now, and it's finally paid off. But that does not change the fact that I know how it feels to want something so bad and not succeed at it, but I keep trying because it’s what I want to do, not because it’s what I feel like I have to do.” You swallowed, hard. “You told me to never give up. Why is it any different for you?”

That seemed to irk something within the man as he finally met your gaze, a fire burning within his eyes. “Because you can do that,” he simply spat. “You can decide not to go to college, and even if your dreams crash and burn, it’ll be OK because you’ve got daddy’s money to fall back on. Why do you think I majored in business, huh? Because I had to! I had to have a backup plan! That is why I’m doing this because I don’t have the option not to. That is something you will never understand.”

You blinked, taken aback. Because you’ve got daddy’s money to fall back on.

But Yoongi didn’t seem to notice your expression change as he went on, “Yeah, your dad might be a hard-ass and he might not talk to you for a few weeks, but he would never drop you completely. If I continue down that path, I will have no one. No support, no money, no nothing.”

“I told you you’d always have my support,” you reiterated, not knowing what else to say. Your words were trapped within your mind.

A small scoff left Yoongi’s lips as he shook his head, a grin sliding onto his face, but it wasn’t warm. “And what good will it do?” he finally hissed out. “Huh? Your support doesn’t mean I’ll have money to catch the bus or—or feed myself or even get a fucking place to live. It means nothing in the grand scheme of things."

You almost screamed at the way your heart dropped. Your eyes were growing hot, burning slightly as the tears threatened to spill. You had never fought with Yoongi like this . . . and deep down, you knew what this meant. Furthermore, you knew what he had meant with his words, and that almost ripped you in two.

“Does that go for me, too?” you asked, unable to stop yourself. “Do I mean nothing to you now?”

A flash of sympathy crossed Yoongi’s eyes, his words seemingly finally hitting him. He whispered your name, trailing off, unable to speak further.

And you couldn’t help but shake your head. “You’ve always done that,” you said, clicking your tongue as you lowered your eyes to the ground, catching sight of the basketball court flooring—the same floor which you both had stood on many times before. “You've always said my name like you’re too fucking scared to disappoint me by telling me how you really feel.”

“Fine,” Yoongi abruptly said. “You want the truth?”

You didn’t move. You didn’t need to.

Yoongi continued, “Your support has been burdensome.”

Your heart swelled, the pressure surely enough to make the organ bleed. But still, you wouldn’t let him see this. You fixed a cold glare on your face and raised your head, staring him directly in the eyes. If he wanted to go down this route, then fine. You wouldn’t let him get away with it for free.

Your cold gaze seemed to cause Yoongi’s eyes to soften, but he didn’t back down either. “You’re off attending galleries and getting your name out there and every single time you call me. You call me and it makes me feel like shit, because I’m here trying to make peace with this stupid office job because I keep failing to do what I really want. I’m jealous. I fucking envy you. Is that what you want to hear? That I can’t fucking stand talking to you because your success makes me realize just how useless I am?” he confessed, his voice hoarse. “Because I don’t want that. I don’t want to feel that way. I want to celebrate your successes but I can’t because every single time we talk you always say I have your support and one day I’ll make it . . . but yours is the only support I have and that on its own is not good enough.”

“Well—” you sucked on your teeth, forcing your emotions to the side— “at least you’re brave enough now to admit the truth, right?”

Yoongi stayed silent.

Time passed. It seemed to consume you, and you both were sure it would’ve swallowed you whole had Yoongi not spoken up after a minute.

“You’re not even trying to understand me,” he finally mumbled, his voice weaker now. Gone was the calm exterior he always wore. This new skin seemed fragile.

But you couldn’t fathom that right now. The only thing you felt was this deep feeling of anger, disappointment . . . betrayal even. “Understand you?” you couldn’t help but sneer. “You just told me I’m a burden.”

Yoongi furrowed his brows. “You’re not listening to me.”

He was right. You were beyond trying to hear him out. Your anger controlled you now. “Did you ever even care about me or were you faking that, too?” you questioned, the words coming out slow yet hostile.

And all Yoongi could do was stare at you, but his eyes gave him away. They narrowed and twisted, emotions swirling on his face as he took in your words. It was almost as if he couldn’t believe you would even suggest such a thing . . . like him not caring about you was this preposterous thing.

You weren’t sure anymore how out there the idea was now.

“Watch your mouth,” was all Yoongi could manage through gritted teeth.

But you didn’t care. You let the bottle containing your anger break as you yelled, “You once said you liked me for being reckless!”

“You said it yourself. We’re both different now.”

You squinted your eyes at his sheepish behavior. “I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“You haven’t really known me for a long time now,” Yoongi muttered, his voice quiet. “You and I both know that.”

A scoff left your lips as you shook your head. “You really think we’ve drifted that much apart?”

“I know we have,” he confessed. “You do, too.”

And you did. You had just never wanted to admit it, even now.

“If we have, then I hope you know that’s on you, not me,” you reiterated. “I may have changed, but I’ve stayed true to myself. You haven’t. The Yoongi I knew growing up would never just settle. He would fight. He wouldn’t give up. That Yoongi . . . that’s the Yoongi I—” you cut yourself off, realizing what you were about to admit. Even now, you couldn’t tell him. Instead, you went on, skipping over the feelings for him that you had bottled up. “That Yoongi was the friend I’ve been trying so hard to cling onto over the years, but I think, along the way as you changed, we both lost him. He’s gone now. All I see now is someone compensating for a crap personal life, by settling for a shitty career and—”

But Yoongi cut you off. “Crap—Crap personal life?” he spat, letting his anger become the best of him. “Okay, let’s see, um: stable relationship with beautiful wife, lots in common, and a great circle of friends, possibly a kid on the way in the near future, and a steady fucking career that I earned by going to college instead of wasting my twenties on a stupid dream that would have gotten me nowhere! That shit doesn't last, you know? You can get gig after gig and have your name plastered everywhere but it won't last forever! Nothing ever does!”

There it was. The confession you had been looking for. He thought you were wasting your life on this dream. That was the real reason you and him hadn’t been close for years now. He didn’t believe in you anymore. Somewhere along the years, he’d stopped supporting you, and you knew this, but you had never wanted to admit it. You never thought you’d have to come to terms with it . . . until right now . . . until he admitted it to your face.

He didn’t believe in you.

Not anymore.

And that was enough to convince you to finally walk away.

Without looking at him, you nodded your head a few times, digesting his words before you silently took a step back. That was when it seemed to dawn on Yoongi that he had just majorly fucked up, as he tried to reach out to grab your arm.

“Kid, come on, I—”

But you were faster, tearing your arm out of his grasp. “You said what you wanted.”

You watched in silence as he dropped his hand, accepting defeat. But, neither of you moved as if time was keeping you both stuck to that damned makeshift basketball court. How long would you leave each other there, quietly waiting for the other to say the words the two of you truly wanted to hear?

Well . . . it wouldn't be you.

In that moment, you had decided one thing: you had to truly let him go. There was no way you could live a life loving him, supporting him when he wouldn’t even think of doing the same. You had already decided to take the job in Busan a few days ago . . . but now . . . now you were certain. In the new year, you’d move to Busan and leave your old life behind. You had to.

Then, you found yourself confessing this discovery out loud. “I’m moving to Busan in the new year.”

Your words made the air grow cold. You glanced up to meet Yoongi’s gaze then, discovering that he was staring at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. And if you had looked a little closer, you’d see the disbelief and hurt ( . . . ? ) locked behind his eyes. But you hadn’t looked closer, and you never knew that this confession had ripped through Yoongi’s skin like a thousand cuts.

“I got an offer from an agent,” you went on, bitterness on your tongue. “That’s why I called that night . . . but seeing how you really feel, I’m glad I didn’t tell you. It’s a four-year contract. I’ll stay in Busan for the duration, working with other artists and such. It’ll put me on the map . . . internationally, but who knows . . . maybe I’m just wasting my twenties for a stupid dream. We’ll see, right?”

He choked out your name, trailing off with no snarky remark to follow your announcement.

But you didn’t stop to accommodate how he would feel. You just kept talking. “My train will leave at three on the second if you want to say goodbye.”

And with that, you turned to head for the door so you could finally head back to your apartment, but as you stuck your hand in your pocket, something stopped you.

There in the pocket of your jeans was the paper ring that you had made for him ages ago. Recently, you had been keeping it on you, convinced it gave you good luck. But now . . . now there was no point. What was the purpose of keeping it anyway?

So, you did something for yourself that night and pulled out the withered paper ring, turning to face Yoongi. You grabbed his hand, realizing you’d miss the warmth of his skin when you’d leave, but you ignored that and quickly pried his hand open so you could place the ring in his palm.

“Here—” you released the paper ring into his hand, but didn’t back away— “you told me to give this to you again when I turned twenty-five. Something tells me we won’t be seeing each other after this, so . . . “ Your words trailed off as you slowly closed his fingers around the withered ring. “I made it for you. It’s yours. Keep it.”

And then . . . you left.

When the new year came, you stood awaiting the train that would take you toward your unknown future. You’d bid farewell to your parents and Seokjin. Saying goodbye to Hari, Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon was hard, but saying goodbye to Hoseok was a little easier because that was just who he was: trying to make heavy situations a little lighter.

You hadn’t seen Yoongi since that night. You didn’t call him or text. You didn’t even ask where he was. You just let it be, but as the train approached, you still had hope he’d show up at the last minute.

You waited as long as you could. The train would be taking off soon. You knew this, but you still waited, holding out hope.

But he never came.

He wasn’t coming.

And you were forced to board the train without saying goodbye to the one person that had got you this far. The doors closed behind you, severing the bond you still held to this place; to your home; to him.

He hadn’t come.

Yoongi hadn’t come to say goodbye.

The train began to move, you sat with your head resting against the window as you watched the world pass by, all of your memories being left behind.

This time it was you who moved on, while Min Yoongi stood stagnant right where you left him.

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dirtybtssnaps · 2 years

Note

Maybe a Drabble of having high sex with yoongi

Whacky tobacky

Genre: Lovely Smut

Pairing: Sober Dom Min Yoongi and 💕High!Sub💕 Female Reader

Posions: High Female Reader, Oral (Female Reader Receiving), Slight Hairpulling, Nipple/Breast worship, DirtyTalk, BareBack, Rough sex Slight over stimulation and creampie (Please use condoms irl)

Author note: I don’t know who or what to base this on, so I kinda use myself as reference just how y/n is acting rest is 100% imaginary.

A few loud coughs echoed through the apartment, as yoongi walked out of the kitchen holding a bag of chips. You took another pull from your blunt, he handed you the bag as he sat down on the couch next to you. “Thank you.” you said cheerfully as you exhaled the smoke, yoongi jokingly pushed the smoke out of his face. “Sorry.” you quickly said before giggling a bit, you took another pull before ashing your blunt and lightly placing it in the ashtray. You exhaled the smoke out of your mouth, as you opened the bag of chips then ate a few then grabbed your blunt again. Yoongi looked over at you and smiled at you, “How do you feel after you smoke that stuff?” He asked.

“When I get high?” You asked giggling, you then looked at the tv again “Meh it’s kind of a natural feeling now, I feel just different than bored like a much better feeling.” You said before giggling again. You ashed into the ashtray again then placed your blunt in it again, before looking over at yoongi and then smiled at him. “If you wanna ask me if I get horny from smoking weed, then not actively moubut if you wanna do it then I wouldn’t mind. Just let me hit my blunt a few more times, and eat a few more chips.” You replied before eating a few more chips. You got up and started taking your shirt off, “We don’t have to do it right now.” He said chuckling.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay enough to do plus it’s been a few days since we had sex anyway.” You said as you finished taking your shirt off, he got up and took his shirt off after you. You slid your shorts off next, then kicked them over to the side of the room. Yoongi grabbed the elastic of his boxers, and pulled them down showing you his semi-hardon. “You know I said we were in our underwear right?” You asked, he shrugged then sat back down on the couch you smirked then unclipped your bra and took it off followed by your panties. You sat down next to yoongi, he grabbed your lighter and the rest of your blunt off the table and then handed it to you.

You took it then placed your blunt in between your lips then lit it, and pulled until the cherry was bright red you quickly exhaled before still ending up coughing out a bit as you quickly put your blunt out. “Would you believe me if I said I used to get high with another rapper in our underwear, it was so fun, we should do it it’ll be so much more fun with you.” You said smiling at him. “You’ve been getting high with another rapper?” Yoongi asked jokingly, “We didn’t even do anything most of the tim- “No it’s just that you know other rappers.” Said yoongi interrupting you.

“It was just him I promise.” You said smiling softly reassuring him, You inhaled feeling Yoongi grab you gently and moved you closer to himself. You smiled then exhaled after a second before putting the blunt in between your lips again. You inhaled again purposefully delaying yoongi, he lightly took your blunt out of your hand and then put it out in the ashtray. You smiled as you exhaled your smoke, then leaned over and kissed yoongi deeply, he kissed you back sliding his tongue into your mouth. You lightly broke the kiss and smiled at him, “You know I could have done that myself.” You said teasingly.

After another light kiss, he helped you onto your back then you jokingly kicked your legs up, he grabbed your legs and gently pinned them up against you. Yoongi leaned down and lightly slid his tongue up against your pussylips, after a few more licks his tongue slid his tongue in between them. You started heavily breathing, but they quickly turned into moans and your pussy slowly got wetter. His whole tongue started sliding up your pussy, your clit constantly feeling his tongue up against it or flicking it.

You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to quiet your moans so the neighbors wouldn’t hear you. Yoongi’s tongue started focusing on your clit, he reached up and grabbed your arm pulling your hand off your mouth. His tongue slipped inside your pussy, and started swirling it around it as he tried to make it go as deep as it could. Yoongi suddenly slid his tongue back out before starting his attack on your clit again, you grabbed his hair as you start squirming and moaning again. Yoongi started humming vibrating your clit, your moans getting louder as you got closer to cumming.

You bit your bottom lip and gently pulled at his hair as you came, yoongi kept your legs as still as possible. Yoongi sat up before leaning down his nose nearly touching yours, “I keep telling you not to cover your mouth, I always wanna hear your moans and I don’t care who hears.” He said before kissing your forehead. Yoongi slowly started thrusting inside your pussy, he slowly sped up his thrusts turning your airy moans into embarrassing loud ones. His thrust suddenly stopped he readjusted his grip on your legs grabbing them tighter, then angled himself before thrusting his cock deep inside your pussy making you moan.

He started roughly thrusting into your pussy, you started moaning as you reach up and lightly wrapped your arms around him. Yoongi’s thrusting got rougher and harder, he released one of your legs and started rubbing your clit. “Do you still wanna bring up that under rapper around me, tell me who’s better me or him hmmm?” He asked making you blush, “D-don’t ask me questions like that in the middle- you moaned out as yoongi thrust faster. “Tell me!” He nearly moaned rubbing your clit faster, “You’re so much better.” You said before moaning out and cumming again.

“Shit!” You moaned and then with a few more thrusts he came deep inside you. Taking a few moments he slowly pulled out your pussy then he kissed your lips deeply.

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whitefoxgirl · 2 years

Text

Dreams (Yoongi Drabble Continuation)

Author's Note: This will be the end, thank you to those who read my fic. If you have any suggestions or even ideas for new ones, let me know! This is a continuation to the drabble I posted a few weeks back. I would just like to thank @dreamescapeswriting who's been supportive of me writing a 2nd part as well as @lovesavepeace97

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (Gender Neutral pronouns) Fandom: BTS Warnings: Soulmate!AU; Slight cursing, fantasy, very slight spoiler for Attack On Titan(?) Genre: Fluff, angst Word Count: 4k Songs that helped me:

• Slow Dancing in the Dark - Joji • I will become a cat! - Fruit Basket OST • Kanashimi no Yoru - Ao Haru Ride OST • Onore no Sentaku - Mayuko (Ranking of kings OST) • Ashes of Fire - Kohta Yamamoto (AOT OST) • Gales of Song - Belle • Lend me your voice - Belle

“Be nice” I whispered in their ear as we danced, their soft giggles blended as we swayed to the music. I felt the ground around me break slowly. I smirked softly knowing it was their doing. They always liked magical things to happen around us when we’re in our dream world. Slowly, I see butterflies around us, surrounding us as if we’re the main characters of a love romance movie. I chuckled and looked at them saying

“You’re so cliché” They laughed and pulled away holding my hands then said, “And you’re not?” with their eyebrow raised slightly. I felt my heart beat faster, trying not to fall in love with my soulmate faster. This is dangerous, this is why people make themselves sleep 24 hours a day, God… I’m so in love with them. As I pulled them closer and twirled them, our outfits changed into a more cottage-core look.

“You’re right…” I cupped their cheek as I looked into their eyes and sighed. Fuck… Why can’t this be easy? They leaned into my touch and said, “Your music, as always, is perfect, Yoongi”. I smiled and said, “A little criticism would be nice” They gulped and smiled gently, grabbing my wrist.

“If you want it to sound sadder, take inspiration from Joji.” I scoffed smirking, knowing that it’s one of their favorite artists. They sighed and pulled away.

“I’m sorry, Yoongs… I think my alarm is about to ring”. I see them slowly fade with lights surrounding them slowly. They press a kiss on my lips, and I close my eyes trying to savor the feeling.

I sit up as I wake up sighing taking off my headphones. I rub my eyes and look at my desk. I stare at the ceiling and close my eyes for a second trying to think of what happened in my dream world. Jo… Something about Jo…? The door of my studio opens, and I see Jungkook coming in, probably to ask me for help with a track.

“Jungkook-ah… What’s some popular artists right now?” He pulls his chin back slightly and smirks gently saying, “All of the sudden?” I look at my keyboard then at him, pressing my tongue on my cheek. I sighed and leaned my head on my hand looking at him.

“My soulmate talked about this artist and all I can remember is ‘Jo’.” He gets closer to sit on the chair next to mine humming, probably thinking, rubbing his chin gently. “Jo Gwangil?” He asks and I shake my head no. “It was two syllables… Joke? Jo… Johnny? No that’s not it…”

“Hyung… Could it be Joji?” My eyes widened and I look at him. “I… I think so… Are his songs sad?” To which Jungkook nodded and said “Pretty sad…” I scoffed smirking, putting on YouTube to look at what they’re listening to. I looked at Jungkook trying to help him with his lyrics and melody after listening to a couple of songs. I smiled at myself gently. So… Joji is one artist they like? I wonder who else they like. I vaguely remember them telling me they know BTS and how they’ve always supported us, even before we dreamed of each other. If I try to follow Joji with his r&b mixed with lo-fi, maybe I can find more artists they like. As I head to the cafeteria of the company, I see a group of little kids forming a line.

Kids? I look down smiling, they like kids… I like kids too… I look at the kids and sigh wondering if it’s going to be soon that I’m going to see my kids with them. I furrowed my eyebrows looking at the teacher making the kids follow them in a straight line, like a train. Then I see them stop abruptly and laugh with the kids. Their smile seems familiar somehow.

“Mx. (Y/N) and Mrs. Lee are always so rambunctious with the kids.” I hear one cafeteria employee say, and the other responds with, "Yeah, but they take such good care of them! I swear, my Yumi did not like coming to daycare until the company built this one for us.” I looked at the cafeteria employees then at Mx. (Y/N) and Mrs. Lee high-five each other, saying something to each other then an employee signaling them to eat, probably to take the kids to another area to eat themselves. Mx. (Y/N) and Mrs. Lee making their way towards the line, and I gulped gently feeling my hands sweat. I rubbed them on my pants as I looked at the cafeteria worker to order.

I take my food to go and looked back at the pair. Mrs. Lee smiles at something that Mx. (Y/N) said. I furrowed my eyebrows again. Their smile seems really familiar. I bumped into Namjoon while trying to look at the pair. Namjoon furrowed his eyebrows then looks down at himself and then at me.

“Hyung? You good? You look like you’ve seen your soulmate” He chuckles, not knowing that he might be correct. I feel my chest tighten. Is Mrs. Lee my soulmate? I gulped and looked at Namjoon, who furrows his eyebrows worriedly. “Hyung, you look pale as fuck…” I shake my head thinking I shouldn’t rush into anything. I reassure Namjoon that I’m okay and looked back at the pair, Mx. (Y/N) has their head down while Mrs. Lee looks at me and Namjoon. I see Mrs. Lee move her lips and Mx. (Y/N) look up. I furrowed my eyebrows again, confused. Then turn around to leave to my studio.

I sighed as I entered my dream word, and smiled when I see the familiar door, but instead of seeing a home like apartment I see a giant pool. They haven’t had a bad day in a while, I wonder what happened. I sink down, knowing that I’ll be able to breathe and that they wouldn’t do anything to trigger my phobia of the ocean.

I see them swimming around with little moon jellyfish, a sea star getting close to them whispering in an ethereal voice “He’s here!” They… Even without the fantasy around them, look amazing. I see them look at me, and the water levels go down as if draining towards the walls of the apartment, everything was back in place, back to how it usually looks for both of our comfort places. The little sea creatures now floating upward the ceiling and disappearing. I smiled gently and with a soft, worried gaze I looked at them while grabbing their hands.

“You usually play mermaid when you’ve had a bad day… Is everything okay?” They pulled their hands away from mine and pouted.

“You looked at Mrs. Lee…” they said, my smile remained not understanding what they meant. Then it hit me.

“You… Are working in the Hybe daycare?!” They sighed pouting, looking up at me with puppy, doe eyes.

They then nodded and said “I wanted to surprise you… Since… You know… I’m the only one of us who remembers these interactions clearly. But it looks like you had your sights on someone else.” They sat down on the couch hugging a jellyfish plushy I had made them in our dream world. I touched their shoulder.

“Baby… I didn’t know… You know I don’t remember… Why didn’t you approach me?”

They turned to look at me and said “I want you to do it. You know I get shy…” I scoffed smirking; they really are cute. I cupped their face and pressed a kiss on their lips smiling.

“Plus! I feel like if I approach you, you might not recognize me… I mean… You mistook me for Mrs. Lee!” I hugged them and smiled saying “Okay!… Okay… Just give me a clue on where to find you tomorrow, I’ll walk up to you, I promise” I see them look up at me holding back a smile, then them pouting again.

“Tomorrow we’re gonna read ‘The very hungry caterpillar’ with the kids! So I’ll wear something like… This!” They stand up and twirl. Their clothes change instantly, a long green skirt with a white long sleeve shirt and colorful striped socks. I cover my mouth and look away blushing. What the hell? Are people really allowed to be this cute? How come children get to see them be this cute all the time and I have to wait? First, the train towards the kid’s cafeteria and now a children’s book-inspired dress? They’re too cute. I look at them again and smile. I stand up and hugged them.

I sighed smiling and whispered, “Okay, cute daycare teacher whom I definitely did not fall in love with”. They giggled bringing their shoulder up. I pulled back to look at them. Their cheeks were red from blushing and their skin looked so soft to touch. My eyes soften as I looked into their eyes, their smile softens gently as they close their eyes. I lean in slowly to kiss them gently. All that was heard was our soft kisses echoing through the living room.

“Yoongi! Wake up!” I groan as I pull away slowly. I opened my mouth to tell them I loved them but got quickly pulled into my reality.

I gasped looking for something to write quickly. Hoseok already knew what was happening. I mumbled to myself as I wrote. “Daycare. Caterpillar. Green long skirt, white long-sleeved shirt, colorful socks.”

I looked at Hoseok sightly annoyed. “You couldn’t have waited a bit?”

He shook his head saying “Sorry… We just have to go to Inkigayo today and you’re the only one not ready. I gave you plenty of time.” I exhaled and looked at him tiredly. Not today… Of all days, today?

I fake coughed and said, “I- I think I’m coming down with something…”

Hoseok looked at me unamused and said “Hyung, you have to come. We all know you’re not sick.” My shoulders slumped as I nodded. I looked down at what I wrote on my phone and scratched my head. Daycare?… So, it is Mrs. Lee? I smiled gently and sighed almost relieved. I got up quickly and got ready. If we finished early, I’ll be able to see her before the daycare closes.

As I arrived to the Hybe building, the boys looked at each other like I was crazy. I don’t blame them; I would look at myself like I was crazy, who sprints towards their workplace? But this is different. The daycare was closing and there were only a few students left. It was 6:00pm. I saw Mx. (Y/N) bowing to a parent and waving at the student. I paused and looked at them interacting with another student.

They bent down and picked them up as they cried. “Mx. (Y/N) … Mommy always picks me up last…” They smiled gently, their eyes softening, something felt familiar about their smile and eyes.

They whispered “It’s okay, Yumi. Mommy’s just cleaning up, she’ll pick you up”

Yumi, the student, pulled away to look at Mx. (Y/N) and said, “Can I make more clay flowers for the caterpillar?”. Mx. (Y/N) giggled and nodded bringing them inside. Caterpillar…? The… Very hungry caterpillar? Mrs. Lee told me about that in our dream world! I walked towards the daycare and let myself in. I hear Mx. (Y/N) welcome me as I look around. Slightly gulping. I approach Mx. (Y/N) and inhale gently, they, for some reason look nervous but are smiling softly, but I try to brush it off.

“I-Is… Mrs. Lee around?” I ask, and their smile softly falls as they nod blinking. I see them get Mrs. Lee and I smile gently. I gulp as I rub my hands. I look at her appearance, a long white skirt with a green long-sleeved shirt. Did I mix the pattern? It’s possible. I opened my mouth and looked into her eyes.

“D-… Do you mind if I hold your hand?” She looks at Mx. (Y/N) and then at me shrugging, saying “Sure.” I waited. I waited for me to see our dream memories, but nothing came. I furrowed my eyebrowed and looked at our hands together. I waited. This is wrong, they said that they would be here, but I don’t see them. I gulped and looked at

Mrs. Lee then smile gently “Not your soulmate?” she said then I shook my head. I’m getting tired. Maybe, they led me towards Mrs. Lee because they don’t feel the same way about me because I’m an idol. But… They’ve been… Waiting for me. They’ve been shedding tears for me, hugging me close in our dreams. I sighed and I looked at Mrs. Lee for a long minute before saying “Wanna go on a date with me?” I saw in my peripheral vision a shadow move away from us. Mrs. Lee smiles brightly and nodded her head.

I looked at my dream apartment door. It’s been a couple of weeks since I asked Mrs. Lee out, Hana is nice but she’s not… I opened the door, hoping that (Y/N) will allow me to look at them again. Ever since that happened, they’ve been avoiding me, even having a different sleep schedule so that we would avoid each other. But every single time, I see the floor being wet. This time, I am greeted with jellyfish and fish; the apartment space looks completely like the ocean being held by an aquarium. I start hyperventilating. Shit… I’m scared. I hate the ocean. Whenever (Y/N) played mermaid in our dreams they would be thoughtful of my feelings, but I guess that after asking out Hana, (Y/N) drowned in their sorrow, much like I did, but while they found comfort in pretending to be a mermaid or a dragon rider, I found comfort in creating music, which is how I guess I ended here. With sleepless nights because I can’t see them in my dreams, trying to find a distraction with Hana and music from the longing I feel, I finally fell asleep at the right time.

This is worse than before, at least before I got to be with them and hold them close in my dreams, but now, I can’t even see them. I close my eyes trying to calm down my breath. I can do this. I can do this! I miss them so much. I- Why did I ask Hana out? Memories of my dates with Hana flash before my eyes, but I don’t see her face, no… In my mind, I see (Y/N)’s face. Is that why? A replacement? Was I so tired of searching that I just gave up? No. That’s not it. I just… Wanted to fill a hole as quick as possible because I couldn’t bear this pain anymore. But that was selfish of me… I’m not the only one feeling this way, (Y/N) hasn’t even gone out on dates because they have been waiting, and yet I couldn’t have the decency to do the same? I looked at the ocean in front of me and my eyes saddened. I can’t fight for my relationship with them in the dream world, and I can’t find them in the real world. I’m pathetic.

A fish, small like Dory come up to me. She gets close to my nose and says “Hi, I’m Dory” in a very kid-like voice. I wipe the tears I didn’t even realize were falling and sniffle saying hi back. “Majesty is having a sad week…” My eyes sadden as I touch the little fish, the fish giggles like a little kid. “Yeah… Because of me.” The little fish swam near my face and hair tickling me slightly and then looked straight at me, I gulped and asked “H… Have they been playing mermaid a lot?” the little fish shakes her head then said “Sometimes they play Attack on Titan. The titans all have Mrs. Lee’s face” I smirked softly then looked at the ocean in front of me. In the real world, this would look like an aquarium and the door would be the glass holding back the water from flooding everything, but this is a dream, anything can happen.

Wait… That’s it! “Mr. Min?” I heard the fish say. I gulped and looked at them before touching the water. This is the first time I do a fantasy thing in our dream, but maybe I’ll catch their attention to not wake up. I stepped in and closed my eyes making buildings, and a night sky, and giving myself a body suit like the anime they’ve been watching, Attack on Titan. The tower bells begin to ring signaling them that there are titans coming their way. I need to think, what does that main character look like in his titan form? I see a hoard of titans coming their way and I hide. “I know you’re here, Yoongi!” I hear them yelling very faintly, as they’re far away from me. I sigh and grab a nail from the rooftop. Calm down, you can do this, Min Yoongi. I stab my hand hard knowing that’s how they do it on the show to transform into their titan form and run off the rooftop. I hear a clap of loud thunder and a light coming from my body then I crash down and look around being successful in my transformation. I start walking slowly as I feel the ground underneath me rumble. Shit. Another loud clap of thunder and bright light. They sure like to put on a show, I feel my titan furrow his eyebrows angrily. Gigantic speakers start floating, and near where we are, music from the show starts playing. Fuck, they're really angry. I hear a titan growling very loudly and their voice coming through the speakers “Once again, there’s a threat to this world. A rebel against peace…” I see them coming out of the smoke, on the shoulder of Eren Jaeger’s titan. They point at me and say “His name is Min Yoongi” I get into a running position and start running towards them and the titan. As I go to grab them, they fly out with their 3D gear. The choir of the anime plays in the background giving the dream a very cinematic feel. I see them in my peripheral vision falling slowly. My titan growls loudly, even more than the one they’ve created. They cover their ears as I jump out of my titan form pushing myself with the 3D gear upwards and towards them to grab them. They push me away with a sad and angry look; the city, everything that was created was being destroyed and being replaced with a sky.

I look around and yell toward her to get their attention “(Y/N)! We’re falling! Hold my hand, don’t wake up yet! We need to talk!” I see them covering their face, tears floating up as we fall. I go towards them and hold them; they, once again, try to push me away but I hold them tightly trying to push their hands away from their face so I can finally look at them. “Please…” I plead with them. They look at me and I hold their hands intertwining our fingers as we fall.

“I don’t wanna feel this way” they say sobbing. My eyes sadden and I feel tears on my waterline, “You have to! You have to be honest with me so we can move on…” I tell them holding back the crack in my voice.

“Why did you ask her out, Yoongi? You saw me! Y-You talked to me!” They sobbed harder. I shake my head then respond “I don’t know! I don’t why I did it… I just… I got tired of missing you…” they pushed my hands away and said, “And you think I don’t?”

I grab their hands again and tell them “I understand that now!… I understand what you mean when you said you can’t fill the hole in your heart that has my name on it with someone else. Please… I didn’t mean to hurt us… I love you so much… These past few weeks have been hell without you. I don’t care about Hana! I just care about you!” I see them having shaky breaths. Their hair floating everywhere, tears floating up as we still fall. “I love you. I don’t wanna take anything else from you or create any more pain. I love you!”

My voice slowly softens into a more passionate and calmer one as tears fall from my eyes “I love you…Just as you are… Whatever thought you have of you thinking that you need to change, throw it away! Even if you were not my soulmate, I’d fall in love with you”

I hug them tightly and whisper in their ear closing my eyes tightly “God… I love you so much… I’m so sorry…” I hear a soft thud as we land safely on our couch, everything being in order.

A soft whale sound is heard in the house. I pull away to look at our apartment. It looks like an aquarium, but, not scary, it’s soft, warm, like them. A school of fish passes us saying “They talked to each other!” and “The majesties are back together!” They look down sadly and then look at me with teary eyes.

“I… I’ll approach you. Even though I’m scared you’ll reject me… I’d rather you reject me and know who I am than to date someone else in front of me.” My eyes saddened as I cup their face.

“Baby… I could never- ” They sighed and stood up gently

“You already did…” they said looking away then they looked at me saying “… but at least this time you’d do it knowingly.”

I see jellyfish around them. I stand up slowly pushing away every marine life around them. “Let me look at you a little more, please” I caress their cheek slowly with my thumb as I take in their features slowly.

I gasp loudly as I wake up, sitting up. That’s the longest dream with them I’ve had. I go to see my phone only to have Hana text me telling me she wants to break up because she found her soulmate. I smile to myself thinking it was one less problem to worry about. I start getting ready for my day and I look at my phone background, being marine life, full of jellyfish, fish, crabs, and more. It’s scary. I hate water, I hate swimming, I hate the ocean, but when it comes to them, they make everything not scary, even things that petrify me.

I go to the studio dragging Taehyung with me, asking him for his opinion on pieces that I’ve been working on. He sighed when the clock hit 1pm asking me if I wanted something from the cafeteria. I nodded and told him I’d just accompany him.

I see Hana leave with, who I presume is her soulmate out of the daycare, and Mx. (Y/N) leave the kids with another teacher as they make their way towards the cafeteria line. They’re behind me and I smile softly at them. Once again, everything about them is so familiar to me. When they smile back, I feel my heartbeat slightly faster, and my cheeks redden slightly. I see them gulp gently as I turn to look at Taehyung, debating what to get. I tell him that I’d pay for him if he features in one of my songs and he agrees.

“Y-Yoongi?” I hear a soft voice behind me say. I turn and it turns out that Taehyung does the same. His face, though, looks displeased that someone is talking to us at work, where we’re supposed to not give attention to fans.

“You know you shouldn’t talk to us, right?” Taehyung tells them and they nod then looks at me with soft pleading eyes. I gently gulp and feel my hands sweat as I turn them into a soft fist.

“I understand but-“ they whisper gently, they look at Taehyung then at me. Taehyung looks at me then at them then back at me.

“Do you know them, Hyung?” I nod at his question and then say “They work at the daycare” He nods then turns his back saying “Didn’t you date someone from there?” I sigh and look at him at then at them

“yeah but…” I furrowed my eyebrows thinking.

I- I’ll approach you.

What…? That has never happened before. I’ve never heard their voice outside my dreams. I look at my hand and then at them. They blink then extend their hand gently. Taehyung looks at us weirdly then his eyes slowly widen with realization. I extend my hand slowly and then gently grab their hand softly. I feel this warmth overcome my body, like a light coming from their body towards mine and a light going from my body towards theirs. Flashes of our memories in our dreams pass before my eyes as I slowly remember everything. Tears start falling from my eyes as I smile gently. I blink as our memories finally intertwined. I looked at them then smiled softly.

“(Y-Y/N)?” They smiled brightly as they hugged me tightly and I responded by hugging them tightly. I closed my eyes to take in their scent, their figure, everything. Lavender. I felt my body relax. I pull away to lean my forehead with them and chuckle gently whispering

“Finally.” As I lean in to press a soft kiss on their lips, which slowly turn into a more passionate one. I pulled away to look into their eyes and see stars in them. I smile something which they return.

“I love you” I whisper near their lips closing my eyes, finally at peace with myself and the world.

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