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#yoongi enemies to lovers
smaubts · a year ago
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“me? In love with you? maybe. don't you dare tell anyone”
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genre: sm au; crack au; enemies to lovers au; slight angst
pairing: min yoongi x reader
summary: yoongi and y/n hate each other, at least that's what they tell everyone. when unexpected events occur they begin to realise that maybe the real cause for all the hate is because it's a way to hide the feelings they won't admit.
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— m a s t e r l i s t
part one. unlimited clown
part two. min yoongi??
part three. hateful behaviour
part four. don't know her
part five. ugly facts
part six. no head no thoughts
part seven. forced friendship
part eight. enemies only
part nine. spiders can grow
part ten. run fast
part eleven. poison me
part twelve. jealous min
part thirteen. no one knOWS
part fourteen. don't tell
part fifteen. fake laugh
part sixteen. HE KISSED HER??
part seventeen. playing games
part eighteen. obviously jealous
part nineteen. big sized child
part twenty. fake dating
part twenty one. big lie
part twenty two. small brain
part twenty three. together??
part twenty four. drunk confession
part twenty five. MY bed
part twenty six. defend yourself
part twenty seven. obvious lie
part twenty eight. VOMIT
part twenty nine. speechless
part thirty. cried a bit
part thirty one. god im in lovE
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thank you for reading!
1K notes · View notes
zibermuda · 8 months ago
ego killer (1) | jjk
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Summary — Campus fuck-boy and notorious flirt can’t keep his eyes off you, but you’re unfazed by his remarks. That all changes when he takes it too far at a party and you’ve officially had enough. 
Genre — smut (e2l, fuck-boy!jk, nerdy!reader)
Words — 11,292
Warnings — unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), tongue fucking, deep dicking, dirty talk, thigh riding, fingering, tongue sucking, breath play, biting, licking, hair pulling, hickeys, jks dad is an asshole, mentions of abuse and alcohol consumption, swearing
one | two | three/final
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masterlist || request
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Just as you’re convinced your day couldn’t possibly get any worse, an unwelcome student decides to pull up the seat next to you. Out of every other chair in this one-hundred-plus lecture theatre, Jeon Jungkook just has to sit here. He’s the notorious campus fuck-boy, ladies’ man and everything else that comes with looking like that; dark, wavy hair, pretty eyes, and body proportions out of this world. You won’t deny that he’s attractive, but looks like that only cause trouble and you have a squeaky-clean reputation to maintain. 
“Morning, gorgeous.” He gazes at your face as he awaits a response, but you decide it’s in your best interest to ignore him.
Huge mistake!
Your silence ignites something in him and he makes it his mission to get some kind of reaction. Anything. Maybe a little smile, a laugh, or even a classic eye-roll.
“Playing hard to get. I like it.”
This is so very like him. If he’s not on the receiving end of attention, he convinces himself that there’s an ulterior motive. Your reasoning; you hate him with your whole mind, body, and soul, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck about his shallow compliments, OR if he’s nearing 6ft, OR if he’s the president of multiple social, theatre, and fitness clubs, AND has the record for the highest number of members in a non-educational club! No, you couldn’t care less!
Out of the handful of ridiculous names he’s given his clubs, one has been titled ‘GAINS’ — Gym and Important Nutrition Society. Classic, right? But, despite the negative feelings you have toward him and everything else he does, other students seem to love him. His toned biceps and thick thighs make a very compelling ‘join us’ statement, too.
In contrast and in the good name of education, you formed a marketing club and handed yourself the president badge. And, ever since then, you’ve been doing your bit as an official influencer to students who actually want to learn something from college.
“I can see your panties, by the way.” He adds and you want to drop dead from humiliation. Scratch that. You want to send a pencil through his eye socket for being such a pervert!
An embarrassed heat threatens to crawl up the side of your neck at his observation. Your skirt isn’t even that short! He’s just a boy with a huge ego, eager eyes and a dirtier mouth. But, to save yourself from further humiliation, you tug the fabric down your thighs and tightly cross your legs until the circulation of blood in your legs becomes a little unbalanced. 
“Hey, I wasn’t complaining. You’re hot as hell.” His eyes wander down the length of your bare legs. It’s so obvious that he’s checking you out. He’s practically leaning all the way back in his chair to get a good look. “Even if you wear Hello Kitty panties.”
Oh my god! Please shut the fuck up!
He’s a nuisance for the rest of the lecture; bantering with nearby students, etching explicit imagery on the desk with the tip of a pen, and doodling on the corner of your page when you’re too busy looking up front to notice. The only time you pay him any real mind is when he taps his sneaker against your ankle. He apologises with a small smile each time, but he’s definitely doing it on purpose. 
It doesn’t stop there. He keeps it up for many more days, which makes for a hellish week. You can barely tolerate lectures with this man-child actively scoping you out through the crowd of students just to sit next to you. It doesn’t even matter if the seat next to you already has an occupant. He just asks them to move. It’s humiliating.
It doesn’t stop there, either. Jungkook always finds a way to annoy you, whether it be copying your notes, going into extreme detail about his previous evening (who even has that much sex?) or (by far his favourite) dragging his eyes down the length of your legs. It doesn’t even matter that you’ve now opted for ill-fitted jeans. He’s already seen your legs and he knows they’re somewhere under all that denim.
“You partying tonight?” He slaps a bendy ruler against his thigh out of sheer boredom. There’s less than twenty minutes left of class. Just ignore him. “You’d look good in a bikini.”
Out of all the ludicrous things he’s said to you over the past week, this one sits relatively high on the list. So, it’s practically impossible to not shift your eyes and send a glare his way. He’s dressed in slightly baggy plaid pants, a black shirt and a denim jacket. If it weren’t for his crazy aura of confidence, he probably wouldn’t be able to make the outfit work.
“Cute.” He smiles at your less-than-intimidating expression.  
Calling you ‘cute’ is something he does painstakingly often; when you frown and your nose scrunches a little, when you change up the font in which you take notes, and especially when you rest your chin against your palm. It's all very cute to him.
Today is Friday, which means a notorious campus party will take place later tonight. Campus parties occur on the regular and are organised by a different faculty each week. The Science Faculty organised last week’s rendezvous, but it didn’t exactly follow community guidelines. Science students dumped a fuck-ton of urine-indicator dye in the swimming pool to weed out the pool-pissers, set off a dozen fireworks down the dormitory hallway, and painted a few doors with glow-in-the-dark paint. Fortunately, nobody was injured, but a few were embarrassed by the piss detection and others were annoyed at their glowing door. Generally, you try to stay out of it.
“Come on, Hello Kitty.” He leans his elbow on the desk and watches you watch him. You hadn’t cared to notice it before, but he has a tattoo of a eucalyptus leaf running down the side of his hand. “You don’t wanna talk to me?”
He can keep prying all he wants, but you’re not going to entertain him. He’ll get bored eventually. That's generally how the mind of a child works.
If you're not spending your time sat in the library, reading romance novels, or sipping on flavoured water, you're lingering in the Student Guild. So, that’s exactly where you head after said class from hell. Within the building are a variety of pop-up food and drink stands, but your go-to is the fruit juice stand, mainly because the guy who runs it is invested in hearing your rants and handing out advice like he’s fifty years older than you. He’s not. He graduated only last year.
“Give me the strongest drink you have.” You slap your palms against the counter and breathe a deep sigh of exhaustion. "I'm in dire need."
“Well.." Seokjin, said 50-year-old-but-21-year-old-graduate, rummages around in a crate full of fresh fruit and vegetables. He seems to enjoy his side-job, but you would be bored to death if you had to stick fruit in a blender for hours on end. "..Pineapple juice should do the trick."
Your eyes wander from the produce to the nearby green, where Jungkook is bantering and being obnoxiously loud with his friends. They've scuffed the grass by purposely digging their heels into the earth and by tackling each-other to the ground.
If there's one thing to note about Jungkook and his ridiculous lineup of friends, it's that they have zero filter or respect for private property. Many, many stories have been tossed around campus depicting their idiotic rendezvous; spraying the chancellors office door with silly string, leaving an entire roast chicken in one of the boys toilets, and even climbing on top of the campus clock tower at fuck-o-clock in the morning.
Jungkook isn't the brightest student, but he did try to best (to an extent) to get into college. His problem is apparent; he got in, so he stopped putting in effort and resorted to turning in half-assed papers. If he doesn't pull his head out of his ass, he won't be graduating with any of those friends.
"Let me guess." Seokjin grabs an entire pineapple and throws it in the blender. Skin and all. "Tense stance and jaw, wide eyes, clenched fists.. You're thinking of Jungkook?"
"Aren't you supposed to cut the skin off?" You ask with a frown. 
"Precisely." He closes the lid and slams his palm on the plastic to ensure that it’s sat on tightly. "But, it's green and nutrients comes from green stuff. I'm sure it'll taste just fine."
Seokjin feels like he should exercise his duty of care and disclose every single detail about Jungkook. After all, he’s not as simple as everyone thinks he is. Nobody is. How can you possibly know what anyone is thinking at any given moment?
“You should be careful, by the way.” He adds as you’re glaring at the noisy group of boys. “He's complicated beyond belief."
"Complicated? In what way?"
"Mega daddy issues. Probably doesn't know how to treat a woman at all."
"I thought he lived on campus."
"Nah, he started that rumour so he wouldn't have to give out information on his family life."
"How do you know any of this?"
Seokjin sticks a straw and an umbrella in the juice before offering it to you. The colour is a slime green and doesn’t look appetising in the slightest. "I know a lot of things. Plus, I talk with the staff of this place. You’d be surprised what they’ll do for a coffee and a chocolate muffin."
You take a leisurely sip of the pineapple drink and savour the strange taste on your tongue. It’s a bit gritty, but it tastes alright. 
“Swirl it all around your mouth to get the full effect.” He nods toward the cardboard cup. “That’s what Mother Nature’s pussy tastes like.” 
“Charming. It’s definitely waking me up.”
“Good. That means you’ll have the energy to be at tonights party.” 
College parties aren’t college parties if a handful of graduates don’t join and encourage stupid and reckless behaviour. Seokjin isn’t that reckless, though. He usually stands by the table of drinks and internally rates peoples outfits. He works part-time at an accounting firm, so he’s become accustomed to categorising everything and anything that comes his way. 
Word has already spread in various group chats and through questionable emails sent by monitored student emails; the Business School students have had this weeks party baton handed to them. What could they possibly muster up? You might be thinking; a civil get-together at a local community hall, maybe a party in a wild flower field, or even a wine tasting event filled with discussions of the law and its loopholes. Nope! Persuading the sport staff to 'forget' to lock up the campus swimming pool is shockingly easy, and law students are pretty fucking good at being persuasive. 
“No, I can’t go. I have a date with Netflix.”
“Taehyung’s going.” 
And, that, ladies and gentlemen, is all that it takes for you to head back to your dormitory, throw on a bikini top, and add a little more mascara to your eyelashes. 
Kim Taehyung; the backbone of this campus, the star quarterback, the man behind symmetry, and your crush (five months going strong!). You can’t help but turn into an awkward, puberty-ridden pre-teen whenever he’s around. He once said ‘hey’ to you during a class and you responded with a very blunt ‘goodbye.’ And, despite your ever-growing crush, you've not done much to attract his attention. Your idea of dressing up is cuffing your jeans and tightening the laces of your sneakers. 
At 7:38PM, you make your way to the aquatic centre after spending an hour tinkering with your shorts and other externalities that nobody actually cares about. It’s not hard to locate — the blaring music and the crowd of drunk students are both a good indicator. The pool is 25 meters in length and lit by alternating rainbow LED lights, and a handful of students have already submerged in the water. You won't become one of them, you note. Swimming with a bunch of drunken students isn't your thing, nor is getting hypothermia. 
Cautiously, you sit yourself on the edge of the pool and dip your feet into the water. It's fucking freezing, but it cools off your hot skin and does an alright job at easing your racing thoughts. 
Why did you come, again? Oh, right. Kim Taehyung! He's nowhere to be seen. You've ran your eyes over every corner of this venue, but his broad shoulders haven’t greeted your eyes yet. What if he's not coming? This would be such a waste of time. Hang on a minute. Why are you revolving your night around some guy who probably doesn't even know your last name? God. Maybe you are an awkward, pre-teen with a big, fat, unreciprocated crush..
You're way too immersed in your own head to pay attention any other person, but someone has absolutely noticed you. For the sake of this story, it's none other than Jeon Jungkook. He’d previously been splashing water at his friends and play fighting; holding each-others heads underwater until someone taps out. It's madness and a recipe for homicide. 
You look good to him — you may look like a loner with a fear of water — but, you look so fucking good. Maybe it's the way your thighs are pressed up against the concrete, or the way the fabric of your bikini clings to your tits. Jungkook is a simple man. He sees a pretty girl; he wants her on his lap. He sees a great pair of tits; he wants them in his mouth. ‘Dirty’ doesn’t begin to describe the thoughts that linger in his mind. ‘Filthy’ is a lot closer, but not close enough. 
"Fancy seeing you here." He runs his fingers through his damp hair and lingers by your dangling feet. And, despite your bikini top being less than revealing, he proceeds to drag his eager eyes over the exposed skin. "I told you you'd look good in a bikini."
His body is exactly what you'd expect; completely athletic, toned to the core, and kissed many times by the sun. His skin is a golden honey tone all over and it makes you wonder what the fuck he wears (or doesn't wear) when he's out in the sun.
You're not sure whether to splash water at his face, literally drown him, or just roll your eyes and ignore him like you usually would. The latter seems like the safest bet, so you do just that.
“Loosen up, Hello Kitty.”
“Stop calling me that!”
He likes the sound of your voice. It’s evident by the shift in his expression and he way he slides his hands closer to your thigh. You can see the entirely of his tattoo now that his hands are resting on the concrete. Ink suits his skin, but that doesn’t make him any less of an idiot. 
“Hello Kitty.” He repeats only because you told him not to. That's just who he is and how he rolls. If somebody told him not to eat a rock, he would simply take a bite out of it. "Such a pretty kitty."
The eye-roll you produce has the potential to be in the ‘top 5 eye-rolls of all time.’ Any average person would take the hint, but Jungkook isn’t any average person. He’s 80% ego, 13% thick thighs, and 7% of the funds contributed to the local bingo residency hall. Yup, you read that right. When he’s bored of throwing toilet paper at peoples houses and pissing in mailboxes, he mingles with a group of retired elderly ladies. Flirts, if you will. Nobody knows why, but everybody knows he does it. 
"Haven't you got laps to swim or something?"
"I wanna swim laps in you."
"Genuine question: has that ever worked before?" You ask over the blaring music. "You have major issues."
“I see a pretty girl..” His eyes wander your figure with very little shame and it takes him a moment or two to return back to yours. His irritating addition follows in suit. "..And, I wanna make her mine.”
"That's a bad habit."
"You're a bad habit."
"Seriously? What are you? Nine?"
"Inches, yeah." You walked right into that one. “Wanna find out later?” 
You could spend your time glaring at him while he grins back, or you could stand up and head toward the wobbly table of drinks. There’s not much choice, though; copious amount of vodka and lemonade to chase it down. Students bring whatever alcohol they can find in their parents house or hidden in their dormitory closets. There’s not much to bring, though, because most students have to take a shot after writing an introduction to an essay.
Water droplets drip down his bare chest and it makes it near impossible for you to come up with another insult. How can someone that hot be such a fucking dick? It’s a very disappointing combination. 
Just as you open your mouth to say something worth your while, a stranger takes a seat next to you. Only, this symmetrical man with golden blonde hair is no stranger to you. This man is Kim Taehyung and his arm is now slung over your shoulder like he’s an old friend from middle school. Relax! Be cool!
“Annoying, right?” Taehyung nods toward a blasé looking Jungkook before returning his gaze toward your wide eyes. You feel like you could melt just from his pretty eyes, let alone from his touch. “He’s like a little puppy. Always begging for attention.”
Jungkook scoffs at the blatant jab. They’re not close friends, but they’re both extroverts beyond belief. Sparking up conversation is a trait that should be typed up on their resume. They’re professionals. “Speak for yourself.” 
And, with that, Jungkook splashes a little water at your bare thighs and heads back to his friends, where he continues to drown them. Once again, madness. 
In the meantime, Taehyung sparks up harmless conversation with you. He asks about college, your family, and even asks to compare hand sizes. It’s the most you’ve ever spoken, but it’s the best conversation you’ve ever had in your nineteen years of life. The entire interaction makes your head foggy and stuffs your insides with butterflies. He makes you laugh, he compliments you, and he doesn’t shy away from touching your hand or slinging his arm over your shoulder. You’re not sure what you did to warrant such attention, but you’d be a fool to complain about a single thing. 
Jungkook has been keeping an eye on the interaction and he catches the way Taehyung’s eyes dart to your lips when you speak. You, on the other hand, are too busy trying to avoid eye contact like a shy school-girl to realise. You’ve spent the past twenty minutes staring at your feet and throwing Taehyung the odd glance here and there. He finds it cute, but so does Jungkook. But, he wants you to be doing this dumb shit with him, not with Taehyung. He saw you first.
If Jungkook’s spider senses are right (they’re definitely tingling), then Taehyung has plans of hooking up with you tonight. That can’t happen on his watch. You’re like a rare gem and he wants to be the one to taint you, not quarterback Taehyung with two perfect parents and an even better GPA. Jungkook called dibs a long time ago, which is precisely why he wanders over to put a stop to whatever mischievous plan Taehyung has brewing. There will be no sex, no kissing, and no more flirting!
“You’re really pretty.” Taehyung says with a dashing smile contorting his mouth. “We should hang out more.” 
And, right on cue, he places a hand on your chin and tilts your face toward his. Your heart is in your throat at this point. Your dream man is about to kiss you. This cannot be happening, but it is. You can smell a little alcohol on his breath, but it’s the best thing you’ve ever smelled. His lips are inching closer and closer, his eyes are fluttering shut, it’s about to happen—
"Alright, love-birds." Jungkook slides his hand down the gap between your faces to put a hold to the kiss before it even has the chance to begin. You feel like you’ve just been edged. You feel like somebody has just taken away an essential organ. "Let's wrap it up!"
“What’s your problem?!” You raise your voice until it towers over the background music. Taehyung definitely doesn’t expect you to be so angry over this, even though you’ve always been a little strange whenever he’s had the chance to speak to you in the past. “Why do you keep ruining everything?!”
Jungkook grins at your discomfort and it sends you completely overboard. He doesn’t care about anything and it pisses you off so much. He has no regard for other people and it makes you want to sock him in the mouth as hard as you possibly can. But, you’re not the type to resort to physical violence, so you resort to your words. When used right, those are just as much of a weapon as your fists. 
“Really? You’re just gonna smile like an idiot?” 
“Yeah, it’s funny.” Jungkook taps the tip of your nose and smiles a little wider when you slap his hand away with a frown contorting your face. You’re so cute to him. He loves annoying you. “Don’t be so angry, Hello Kitty. It doesn’t suit you.” 
Taehyung isn’t as bothered as you are. He could kiss anyone he wants tonight, so this is nothing more than a small loss in his championship. Hey, there’s always next Friday! He already knows that his new-found interest in you is only because Jungkook is somehow interested, too. Whatever Jungkook wants, Taehyung will steal it right from his grasp. 
“I hate you so much!”
“I think you’re in love with me.” 
“You’re so full of yourself!”
The pair of you go back and forth bickering like an old, married couple until he drives you over the edge completely with an unnecessary innuendo. 
“Did you just say you wanna be full of me?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you!” You yell a little too abruptly. A lot of the party attendees are looking your way and muttering among themselves about the strange ordeal. Sure, many girls have yelled at Jungkook for being a dickhead after a one-night-stand, but none have yelled at him without having had sex. It’s intriguing. “You’ve slept with every fucking girl on campus and each of them know just how much of a dickhead you are! The only reason you still get laid is because you’re easy!”
Jungkook is still grinning, but his mind is wandering to a completely different place. Yeah, he’s slept with a lot of girls, and yeah, most have told him how much of a dick he is for cutting them off right after. What about it? 
“A toy!” You add with an unprecedented bitterness in your tone. “You’re a toy that girls like to use! Haven’t you noticed? You think you have every girl wrapped around your finger, but you’re so fucking wrong!” 
Your words hurt him more than he ever imagined they would, but he doesn’t know why. He feels like he’s just been asked to recite the Pythagorus Theorem with the way his mind is blanking and trying to cling onto something that makes even the slightest bit of sense. You’re smart, so he relies on copying your notes in class. You’re smart, so maybe you’re right about him and his outcast status on campus. He’s never felt this way before. It’s odd. It doesn’t feel nice.
Jungkook looks at you and then he looks around at all the bystanders. None of them look sympathetic in the slightest. In fact, a lot of them are nodding to one-another and enforcing your bitchy words. He has a reputation and everybody knows him by it. They don’t know him any deeper than that.
His expression shifts to one of confusion and he walks away with his head low and his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He feels totally humiliated for the first time in his life and he doesn’t like the feeling at all. 
“That was a bit mean.” Taehyung notes, but he doesn’t truly care. He’s just here for the show. He couldn’t give two fucks about Jungkook. The two of them have never seen eye to eye. 
You nibble on your bottom lip and slowly start to regret everything you just screamed in anger. You want to gather all of those words and stuff them back in your mouth, but you can’t. You’ve really gone and done it now. You’ve managed to upset to most un-upsettable boy on campus. Congrats! 
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Jungkook doesn't sit next to you during lectures or annoy you like he usually would. He doesn't even look in your direction anymore. He seems like a completely different person, but he's not. He's just hurt and you've never experienced a hurt Jungkook before. You didn't even think he had the capabilities of feeling anything other than horny and a gym pump. Oh, how wrong you were and how awful of you to convince yourself that he doesn't feel as deeply as others. That was your first mistake. 
You feel horrible and you desperately want to apologise and clear this entire thing up. That has been exceedingly difficult, though, because he always leaves class a few minutes early to avoid you. He even stops showing up to parties just to lessen the chance of running into you. This madness continues for almost two weeks, and during that time, you type up at least twelve apology letters. None of them are good enough.
You can’t just send him an email. You doubt he’s ever checked his emails in his entire life. No, you need to put on a brave face and talk to him in person. But, it’s 9:31PM right now and his whereabouts is completely unknown to you. 
Someone ought to know where he is, right? Your theory is validated once you poke your head out of your dorm-room and ask two girls who are gossiping about something insignificant in the hallway. Their confident reply is ‘the gym’, so you muster up the courage to head there in the darkness of the evening.
Right by the entrance is a vending machine full of protein shakes and snacks, so you decide on getting him one. What’s an apology without a cheap gift? With a chocolate protein shake in hand and a fast-paced heart, you push open the doors of the gym and wander around like a lost child in a supermarket. It’s completed deserted. Of course it is! It’s nearing 10PM. But, one body with a head of dark, tousled hair is working the lat machine; Jungkook. He's tugging on the bar like he’s training to get the biggest back muscles in the world. He's definitely on his way there.
“Hey.” You clear your throat before speaking any further. “I got you this. It’s chocolate.”
“I don’t drink milk.” He says mid-pull, but his voice doesn’t hold the usual playfulness you’re conditioned to. You’ve officially pissed him off. “And, I don’t like chocolate.”
You frown at the blatant lie. “But, I saw you skull an entire carton of chocolate milk this morning.”
“Go away, Y/N.” His back muscles constantly flex through his white, sweat-slick shirt. It’s quite mesmerising. “Haven’t you got an essay to write or something? Miss goody two shoes."
The bench he’s seated at is long enough for a person to rest their back on and perform bench presses, so you take a seat at the very edge and fiddle with the chocolate shake. “Jungkook, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was angry and I was very wrong.”
“Don’t care.”
“And, I do think you’re hot.” You add in hopes it’ll persuade him further. “The hottest guy I’ve ever met.”
“Don’t care.” He repeats. “I don’t need you telling me what I already know.”
Alright. That doesn’t feel great. You now have an idea of how he felt all those days he spent hitting on you, only to receive a glare and an eye-roll in return. 
There has to be something else you can say that’ll redeem you. You can’t believe the chocolate milk hasn’t cut it, though. What's something that he really likes? Something he can't resist even if he tried?
"We can hang out, if you want. Y'know.. Get drunk and do something crazy."
"No, thanks."
Seriously? That had been his only agenda ever since he stepped foot in college. There has to be something else, but you can't think of what. You don’t know anything about the gym, about soccer, or about swimming teams. But then, your mind runs over every conversation you've ever had with him until something prominent sticks out. Hello Kitty.
“I’m wearing Hello Kitty panties.”
Out of everything that could come out of your mouth, he definitely wasn’t expecting that, which is precisely why the bar slips from his fingers and pings against the upper metal of the machine. A little perplexed and a little more horny, he then turns to you and drags his gaze from your thighs to your eyes. It makes your heart race and your head slightly foggy. “Oh, really? Prove it.”
“This is a public space.”
“That didn't stop you from ripping into me the other day."
"You pissed me off!" You retort with an accidental eye-roll. "You kept cock-blocking the entire night!"
"Cock-blocking." He repeats with growing amusement. "You think Taehyung's gonna fuck you?"
"I think I have a chance, yeah."
"That's really funny considering you're in here offering to show me your panties."
He's got you trapped in a really tight fucking corner. Fuck, does he think you're pathetic now? Are you that inexperienced and attention deprived that you'd feel no regret in flirting with more than one guy at a time? Was this his plan all along? To make you sink to rock bottom just for this very opportunity? The chances of that are below zero, you know that, but your mind won’t stop racing. He’s so fucking hot. You already know that. You’ve known that from day one, but there’s something exceedingly sexy about the way he’s looking at you right now. His brown eyes are so pretty, but they’re filled with a desire for you. 
"Show me, then." He leans closer to see how you'll react. Evidently, you're way to caught up in your racing thoughts and the new-found throbbing between your thighs to put a stop to this madness, so he moves close enough until his lips graze against your own. It’s a new sensation for the both of you. He might just eat you alive if you keep looking at him like that; like a good girl that’ll do anything he asks of you. "If someone gets to fuck you, it's gonna be me."
And, then he kisses you. It lacks any and all romantic qualities, but isn't lacking in tongue and lewd hand placement on your inner thigh. It's the most passionate kiss you've ever shared in your entire life, and when he pulls away, you're left breathless and wanting so much more. 
"Come on, pretty kitty. Be nice to me for once." He says lowly with those eyes trained on yours. "I'll fuck you whenever you want. It'll be our little secret."
Why the fuck are you actually considering having sex with Jungkook? He’s the guy you've despised since day one and the guy who has slept with most of the population. Also, why are you falling for his charms and the way he looks into your eyes? He knows what he's doing, but you don't. You’re so attracted to him right now and you can’t stop the feeling. Is it because the two of you are alone and he’s being a lot more intimate than he would during a lecture? 
"Whenever I want?" You ask so quietly, it might as well be a whisper. 
That's when he knows he has you right where you're supposed to be. "However you want. Can I touch you right now?"
The small nod of confirmation is all he needs to run two fingers along his tongue before dipping them beneath the waistband of your jeans. Never in a million years did you think you'd become one of those students; one who has no respect for the public and is willing to have sex in the literal campus gym. This can't be hygienic. This can't be safe, either. What if someone walks in and sees you sitting here with his hand down your pants and his lips on your neck? You'd never live it down. You might just die from embarrassment.
"Wait.." You put a stop to his fingers before they have the chance to run underneath your panties. It takes a lot of strength to do that. "Can we do this somewhere else?"
Somewhere else: in a private space, completely away from any lingering eyes, and away from the threat of being caught. You’re not completely void of morals and self respect. 
He doesn't complain at the request. In fact, all he does is follow you back to your dormitory while pinging your bra against your skin and placing goosebump-inducing kisses against the side of your neck. 
When you reach your dorm-room, the story shifts completely and he's quick to return his tongue to your mouth and place his hands on your ass. He’s wanted to do that for so long. The kiss is filthy, but it feels so fucking good. It’s slow, but saliva-dominated and led entirely by his tongue. It ignites everything in you, but, most importantly, arousal. He’s the best guy you’ve ever kissed in your life, but it’s not like you have a long history of candidates. His tongue knows exactly where to lick and he even takes your bottom lip between his teeth to elicit a reaction. 
His shirt comes off somewhere during the heated make-out session and your fingers find refuge raking through his soft hair. And, when he runs his hand up your hips and takes the fabric of your own shirt with him, you break the kiss to look down at yourself. That’s when it hits you; you’re about to be completely naked in front of him. You can’t help but feel timid. He’s definitely seen prettier girls with prettier bodies than you. 
"That shy girl shit is overrated." His voice is oozing with sex. He wants to prove that he wants you and he does by taking your hand and running your fingers down his pecs, down his defined abdomen, and then against the prominent outline of his cock straining against his sweatpants. "I want you so bad."
He means it and you believe him, but the lingering shyness doesn’t fade. He tugs off your shirt, unzips your jeans, and stands back to get a good look at you. It does nothing to help out your shyness. If anything, it makes it worse.
You’re wearing cotton panties with a cutesy Hello Kitty artwork printed on the front, and he really, really wants to fuck you so hard because of it. He can’t stop imagining the way you’d look if he were to run his cock against your face, but that’s for another day. He has a strong feeling that one night won’t be enough time with you. 
“You’re so fucking sexy.” With finesse, he pushes your back onto the mattress and reaches underneath you for the clasp of your bra. Surprise, surprise; he’s a fucking expert at taking it off. 
Maybe tonight will be the best sex you’ve ever had. Confidence plays such a huge roll in sex and he’s literally dripping in it. You’re definitely dripping in something, but it’s not confidence. He has an unprecedented amount of sex appeal, especially when he holds eye-contact, leans over you, and lets you look at his toned body. He knows he’s hot and he knows that his muscles flex with each one of his movement. He’s built every single muscle on his body to perfection and it’s so fucking hard to not get a good look. His biceps, thighs, pecs, abs. You could probably get off just by looking. 
"Such a good girl.” He takes his time as he runs his hands from your throat down to your hips. Everything about your body is a stimulant. He has imagined how you would look naked more times than he can count, but the real thing is so much better. “So pretty all the time, baby. You turn me on all the time.” 
He drags his tongue up your naval before wrapping his lips around your nipple and swirling his tongue around your skin. And, with ease and confidence, he dips his fingers beneath your cotton panties to run his digits against your clit. The double stimulation is something you've never had the pleasure of experiencing, but you’re totally happy that you’re feeling it now. 
As much as your sweet sounds turn him on, it makes him wonder how inexperienced you may be. He's not the type to fuck virgins. It's too much of a hassle and there's a part of him that feels regret to be somebody's first. He doesn't want attachment. No strings at all. 
"Have you been touched before?" He halts the movements of his fingers.
"Yes." You’re breathless already. You want to beg for him not to stop, but you contain yourself. 
"Don't lie." He tugs you further down the mattress and grins a little at your bewildered expression. "I haven't done anything yet and you’re already gonna come."
"I've been touched!" You retort with a bit more defence than you’d intended. "Just.. not like this."
"Have you been fucked?" He leans down to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, and as he pulls away, you’re left breathless and your mouth is left missing the finesse of his tongue.
"Not like this." His words are laced with cockiness, but it isn’t a lie. He doesn’t fuck you at first, though. That’s too easy. He wants to touch your skin, to feel your arousal drip down your thighs and pool on his own skin. He wants to tease your pussy with his tongue, to suck on your clit until you come in his mouth. He wants to do it all, but his first act is to sit you on his lap, dig his fingers into your hips, and help you grind your pussy against his thigh until you’re panting and sinking your nails into his shoulders. His thigh does its rightful job of flexing and stimulating your clit, while his fingers wrap around your throat and his lips suck on your tongue. It’s a filthy sight; something you never thought you’d see yourself in, but it feels so fucking good. 
“Pretty girl.” He praises against your open lips. “Such a good girl.”
Your eyes are shut, your thighs are shaking, and pretty moans are slipping from your mouth and falling into his. He swears he’s never seen or heard anything so sexy, but he knows that you’ll come if he makes you do this any longer. So, he switches it up by returning you to the mattress, but in a completely different position that before. Ass up, face down; just how he likes it, just the right position to fuck you as deeply as humanly possible. 
"Pretty kitty." He praises before licking a harsh stripe from your clit to your lower back. The filthy act earns a whimper from your lips and a more intense throbbing in-between your thighs.. "I'm gonna destroy this pussy."
He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks like you’re his favourite candy and he doesn’t care if he gets toothache. You might as well be. You’re so sweet on his tongue. 
Your back immediately arches and a deep moan falls from your lips at the feeling of his tongue swirling around your clit. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before and once he adds his fingers to the mix, you repeat the same phrase in your head. This is absolutely like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
He runs his fingers along your folds before pushing one deep inside of your pussy until his palm rubs against your clit; all while lapping up your arousal and nipping on your inner thighs with his teeth. He loves it when your thighs shake and when your moans turn into whines. He could come just by the sound. 
After all is said and done, he trails his tongue along your skin and leaves a deep love-bite beside the dimple of your back; a good reminder that he was here and nobody has ever made you feel this way. And, then he teases his cock against your sensitive entrance before sinking into you until his lower abdomen hits the top of your bare ass. A deep groan falls from his lips at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him. He swears on his life that he’s never felt a pussy like this. 
His fingers run from your lower back to the back of your head, where he takes your hair in his hand. Someone could walk in right now and you wouldn’t ask him to stop. This sex is beyond masturbation and beyond being fingered by a short-term boyfriend who you met in a marketing class in your first year. Way, way beyond. Jungkook fucks you deeper than you’ve ever known was possible, pays attention to your clit by reaching underneath you and rubbing against it with his fingers; all while tugging on your hair to keep you exactly where he wants you. You’re gonna come tonight. Jesus, fuck. You might come more than once tonight.
"Such a good girl, right?" His voice grows hoarse, but it’s still dripping profusely in lust. You've never heard anything so worthy of making your pussy tighten. "What would Taehyung say if he saw you like this?" 
He's fucking you with such strength that you can't seem to muster up the power to verbalise a response. All you can comprehend is the sound of his own stuttering breath, the sound of his skin hitting yours, and your own moans as they tumble from your lips. Your mouth remains ajar and your own saliva has started pooling at your chin. It's definitely a sight to behold. You don’t even want to imagine what anyone would say upon seeing this. Jungkook knows exactly what he wants to say. He knows what he wants to hear, too. 
“Come on, answer me.” He tightens his grip on your hair and tilts your head to the side to put his tongue in your mouth. It takes your breath away. And, when he pulls away, a string of saliva connects both of your lips his lips. “Your voice turns me on.” 
"Mad." You manage to breathe out in-between pitchy whines. Your fingers grip onto your bed-sheets with each of his thrusts. "He'd be—  Oh, fuck! Mad!"
"Yeah? Cause I get to tear this tight pussy open and he doesn't?"
You’ve never heard anything so filthy in your entire life, but you’ve also never been fucked so well in your entire life. This is exactly why you feel no shame in drooling like a kitten and moaning out his name each time he sinks back into you. His moans are a stimulant in themselves and make you tighten your walls around his cock each time. It’s a constant cycle. 
The sex lasts so long to the point where you began to forget that you actually exist. All you know is that you’re on your third orgasm and your thighs won’t stop shaking. Your skin is sore, your scalp is sore, there are tears in your eyes, your throat is dry. He fucks you until you can’t take it anymore; all while muttering the filthiest shit you’ve ever heard. He fucks you until you’re on the verge of sobbing, and until his hips stutter and he pulls out to come on your lower back. 
As he looks at your fucked-out body beneath him, he knows for certain that he wants to do this again. That was the tightest pussy he’s ever had the honour of fucking and he swears he’s never come that quick during sex before. "We could make this a thing, y'know."
"A thing?" You repeat, a little uneasy. You’re surprised you can even speak. 
"Yeah.” He confirms as he reaches for the box of tissues sat atop your bed-side table. He does his part in wiping his cum from your lower back and running his hands along your sore skin. His touch is comforting. “I'll fuck you whenever you want, and in return, you'll help me pass my units."
That might sound like a jolly good idea in his mind, but it rings some alarms in yours. You see, you’re a hopeless romantic with dreams of a beautiful, white wedding and three little children. He, on the other hand, doesn’t know what it is to be in a committed relationship. He never has. 
"Is that such a good idea?" You gather the remaining strength in you to shuffle onto your side. Your body feels like it needs sixty hours of rest to recover. But, respectfully, that was the best sex you think you’ll ever experience in your life. Why should you deprive yourself of more of it? "I mean.. What if one of us catches feelings? It’s possible.."
"You're funny." He humours as he leans down to capture your mouth in yet another dirty kiss. Again, it leaves you breathless and wanting more. You want him to stay a little longer, but that’s not how he rolls. “I’ll text you.”
“But, you don’t have my number.”
“I’ve had your number since first year. Asked one of your friends for it.” 
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Jungkook cuts you a deal; on Thursday's, he fucks you until your thighs are red from his palm and until you tap out from exhaustion. And, in exchange, you help him get through his units. No love, no dating, no labels. 
However, once a week becomes too little. There's something about the way you look when you touches you; like you're completely wrapped up in him, like you’re not thinking of anyone else. It’s different to how his usual one-night stands pan out. It makes him feel different; seen, heard, shy almost. Almost. He’s definitely not shy when it comes to asking for you, though. He’ll be sitting on a bus filled with commuters and conservative elders, and will feel no shame in using voice-to-text to get his message across:
[20 November, 2:21AM]
[Jungkook]: wanna fuck?
[You]: ok
[23 November, 6:04PM]
[Jungkook]: wanna fuck
[You]: okay
[24 November, 10:46AM]
[Jungkook]: what the fuck is a credit and debit
[You]: page 26 of the textbook will tell you :)
[Jungkook]: thanks i wanna fuck you tho lol
He often studies the way your lips part as he runs his fingers down your sternum, and the way your breath stutters as he sinks into you. He finds it fucking frightening, but he sometimes avoids blinking just so he doesn’t miss you. You're such a good girl on the surface, but a girl he fucks hard behind closed doors. And, to put in plainly, he likes being the only one to know about your double sided life. Ruining you is fun for him, as is fucking you from the back while his fingers abuse your clit.
After all is said and done, teasing you about your underwear choice is a whole lot more fun. He likes the way you frown as he holds your discarded panties above his head so you can’t reach them. It’s fun to have sex with someone like you. But, it feels more intimate at times and that’s what scares him. You’re not supposed to look so pretty with his fingers or his cock in your mouth, and you’re definitely not supposed to look so pretty when you’re sat in the library with dark bags under your eyes and a pencil between your lips. 
Instead of kicking your ankle with his sneakers or stealing your pens to annoy you during lectures, he places his hand on your inner thigh, drapes his arm behind your chair, or leans in to whisper suggestive innuendos in your ear. Most students know that you’re sleeping together, but all of them know that it’ll never be anything more. Jungkook isn’t the type to catch feelings. He’s fucked the hottest girls on campus, but hasn’t ever offered anything more. 
Sometimes, you’re too busy with college work to meet up with him, and that makes him feel a little left out. You’re becoming his routine and he’s starting to feel out of place whenever he doesn’t see you. It’s a total head-fuck. 
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On a late Tuesday afternoon, Jungkook catches you as you’re reading a sickly-sweet romance novel in the library; Love In The Time of Cholera by García Márquez. His first reaction upon seeing you is to snatch the novel from your hands and read the first sentence out loud. 
“I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century..” He plays out the dramatics by clutching his chest. “ repeat to you once again my vow of eternal fidelity and everla—.” 
You’ve fallen in a deep pit of humiliation at this point, so your next appropriate move is to snatch back the novel and stuff it deep within your bag. 
“Any sex in that book?” He grins and pulls up a seat next to you. “More importantly.. Have you touched yourself today?” 
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You’ve told me that before.” He leans closer to whisper the innuendo, but it’s not like he actually cares if others hear. It’s about the dramatics and the delivery of a flirty line. “Wanna hang out?”
“Hang out.” You repeat, a little whiplashed. “As in..?”
“As in hang out.” He fiddles with the zipper of your bag like an uneasy child. If there’s something to note about him, it’s that he’s not very good at sitting still. He wants to touch everything, to speak to everyone, and be in a constant state of i-gotta-do-something. “I feel like hanging out.” 
“Er— Yeah, okay. We can hang out.”
You’re not entirely sure what you expected, but it definitely wasn’t to be seated on a bus with him while he shows you his Smurfs’ village. He tilts his phone to the side and explains that Papa Smurf has asked him to grow twenty potatoes in exchange for three smurfberries. It’s all very perplexing, but it makes you realise just how simple this man truly is. He plays children’s phone games in his spare time, speaks with the elderly, and probably talks to any wildlife he comes across. These new realisations make you adore him. Sure, he may have zero filter and feels no regret in teasing you, but he’s genuinely a good guy. 
It takes forty seven minutes for the bus to reach the bus-stop you two get off at. You’ve never been in this neighbourhood before, but you’re glad that you’re here now. It’s ran by flora and fauna (rabbits and ducks, mostly) and the air is noticeably easier to breathe in. Little cottage-style houses stretch down the length of the windy roads and the third one from the bus-stop is the place he calls home. Vines have crawled up the walls and have completely overtaken the light coloured brick, the roof is dark and mossy, and the white paint on the casement windows have peeled back over the years. 
The interior of his house is like any other; there are random family photos hung on the wall, there’s a fruit-bowl on the kitchen counter (although, it’s empty), and various ‘live, laugh, love’ trinkets are sat on the living room cabinets. However, there are a fuck ton of empty beer bottles stacked up in the kitchen and the living room. It makes you wonder, but it’s not your place to pry into sensitive shit like that. 
Jungkook’s bedroom is nothing like you’d expect. Yeah, the walls may be grey and there may be discarded clothes on the floor, but his bookshelves are filled with various koala plushies, different sizes of the Australian map, kangaroo fridge magnets, and small emu figurines. You’ve counted over fifteen eucalyptus candles, and although none have been opened, the room still smells piney, minty, and sweet. 
“Don’t mind the mess.” He says as he picks up a lone shirt and tosses it on the end of his bed. 
“What’s with the Australian shrine?” 
“They’re gifts from my mom. She sends them too often.” 
"Is this her?" You run your finger along an intricate photo-frame that’s sat on his bedside table. The woman in the photo has a messy head of dark hair and a safari hat fastened underneath her chin. She looks like an unkept zoo keeper, but so happy and full of life.
"Yeah." He says plainly. "She moved to Australia to breed koalas after she divorced my dad. Haven't seen her in a while."
That’s a short summary of his moms history. Before she left the country, she ran a native animal sanctuary and was always filling up the house with various animal trinkets and memorabilia. They’re still placed around the house, but have long since gathered dust. She didn’t take much with her; just a passport, her favourite tennis shoes, and a small backpack full of plain clothes. 
“Oh, wow.. How long has she been gone?”
“Almost a year.”
“Is that why you have the eucalyptus tattoo?” You query. “For your mom?”
“You’re a little Einstein, aren’t you?”
When you turn to face him and reply with a witty remark, he kisses you. But, not roughly or dominated by tongue like he usually would. The kiss is slow and sweet, like he’s trying to drink you in. And, his hands cup your jaw to keep you just where he wants you. There’s something about the way you look into his eyes on most days; it makes him want to be gentle and vulnerable with you. He’s never felt that feeling before; like he wants to fuck the soul out of you, but also play with your hair and hold your hand. It’s a complete head-fuck, especially for someone as out-of-touch as himself. 
“What was that for?” You ask, a little breathless, after he breaks the kiss.
“Dunno.” He fibs. “Just felt like it.” 
And, then he kisses you again while his hands grip your waist and your own run through his soft hair. You don’t feel weird kissing him, now that he’s seen every inch of your skin and has heard every moan variation you’re physically capable of producing. You feel comfortable and it’s a nice feeling. 
But, then the front door slams and it makes you jump in fright. Is this one of his family members? You think to yourself. How are you supposed to introduce yourself? As his friend? Fuck-buddy? Study-buddy? Oh, fuck. 
“Is that your dad?” You query with wide eyes. 
“No.” He lies and he doesn’t know why he does. “Yes, it’s my dad.. Fuck. Can we go somewhere else?”
It then becomes apparent that you don’t need to introduce yourself. Why bother? His dad reeks of alcohol and you could practically smell it before he even walked in the house. A man in his late forties has stumbled down the hallway and propped himself up against the doorframe. They look so similar, it’s uncanny; black, wavy hair, honey skin, generous height, and an athletic frame. 
“Oh.” His dad blinks a few times in his drunken state. He’s dressed in an old leather jacket and paint-stained jeans. “Who’s the bitch?”
Jungkook sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can you knock before you come in? I’m busy.”
“This is my house!” His dad slurs in an awfully loud voice. “I’ll open any door I want!”
You don’t know what to do. You don’t feel so comfortable anymore. You’ve never had to experience a fight like this in your entire life, nor have you been in the same room as an aggressive drunk person. Maybe that’s why you’re so naive. 
Jungkook feels no fear in digging in his dad’s jeans for his car keys. He’s way too drunk to do any actual damage. If he were to swing at him, he’d just lose balance and tumble backward. But, knowing how to navigate an abusive dad is a skill that nobody should have to learn. That’s not what kids should have to learn.
With the bundle of house-keys in one hand, Jungkook uses the other to take your hand and escort you down the hallway, out the front door, and toward a busted truck parked on the driveway. Is he about to steal his dads truck? That’s not his truck, right? You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you oblige without much hesitation when he tells you to get in the passenger seat. The interior is just as damaged as the exterior and cigarette butts have piled up in the cup holders. It makes you wonder if he smokes along with his dad, but you’ve never once tasted tobacco on his tongue, so you highly doubt it. 
“You ungrateful git!” Jungkook’s dad stumbles out of the front door and yells out as the truck swiftly reverses. The sheer volume and tone of his voice makes you jump in your skin, but Jungkook is completely unfazed. You wonder how often he’s had to hear it to become so accustomed. Again, this isn’t something a kid should have to learn to cope with. 
He stays silent for a lot of the drive; silently switching gears and tapping his thumb against the steering wheel. He’s wearing a deep frown and can’t stop nibbling on his bottom lip. He’s in deep thought. It makes you uneasy. You want to be in the loop, the hear him talk, but he doesn’t. At least, not for the first fifteen minutes. 
“I’m sorry.” He speaks once the truck stops at an intersection. His thumb is still fidgeting with the wheel, but not as reverently. “I didn’t think he’d be home so early.”
“Jungkook, it’s okay, really.” You lace your voice with everything that could ever be used to reassure a person. None of this is his fault. He didn’t purposely put you in harms way. He wouldn’t ever do that. 
Jungkook is quiet for the rest of the journey back to campus, and when he reaches the parking lot, he takes up two parking spots like madman. The parking warden is going to have a field day once she makes it to his truck in time to slap a hefty fine on the window shield. 
“He usually stays at the bar until midnight. Fuck, I’m sorry. It was dumb to bring you there.” 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about your dad.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” 
“I can handle it, Jungkook.” You say with a hint of uncertainty hidden within your voice. Alright, maybe you can’t handle a lot, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to be there for him. “I just want to be your friend.” 
Something in him snaps at your offer and he instantly becomes defensive. Friends. To him, friends are people who get drunk together and text each-other sometimes. You’re not fit to be his friend. Weakness is not a trait he’s ever had to show anyone either, so it’s difficult to come to terms with unleashing it. What falls from his mouth next isn’t the truth, but he’s just so set on being the bigger person; whatever that means. 
“It’s none of your business, Y/N. You're just my toy..” His words hurt him more than they hurt you. He feels like a completely different person as he’s raining down on you; like his dad. “I fuck you like I love you, but I really don’t.”
His words cut like paper, but you know he’s enduring a lot more pain than he’s dishing out. He doesn’t mean it. He wouldn’t ever mean that. That’s not who he is. 
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that to me.” You dig in your pocket for a trinket before dangling the cutesy figure from your fingers. It’s a Hello Kitty charm hooked around a silver keychain. Pink, white, and yellow is the palette. The gesture is a lot more meaningful to him than you intend. It’s just a keychain, but it’s also something that he can carry around to remind him of you. You’re not his friend. His friends don’t do this. They don’t think about each-other like this or act selflessly for one-another. “I won this while I was at a carnival last year. I thought you might like it.” 
He looks at the figurine, but he doesn’t reach out to take it. He’s hesitant, but only because he thinks that he doesn’t deserve it. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you and can see it on his face, so you gently grab his wrist and place it in his hand. 
"If you want me." You begin with a firm tone. Good for you. "You can come and find me. I still want to be your friend."
He doesn't reply, and instead tightens his grip on the keyring while avoiding all intimate eye contact. You want to reach over and run your fingers through his hair and tell him that everything will turn out just fine, but you don’t. You want to take away all of his pain, but you can’t. It doesn’t work like that. Different situations call for different tactics. 
"Just.. give me back my textbook after you're done using it.” Is the last thing you say before hopping out of the truck and wandering deeper into campus. 
Jungkook sits in the truck with his eyes trained on the Hello Kitty keyring and his heart on his sleeve for the first time. 
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When he goes home that same night, he drinks until he throws up and allows himself to be consumed by the characteristics of his dad. It's not until he has nothing left in his stomach to throw up that he realises he doesn't want to be him. His dad has been the bane of his existence; always yelling, drinking, belittling, and being openly prejudiced toward strangers on the street.
Why have children if you won't love them? Why have children if you refuse to nurture and help them reach their potential? Why label yourself a father when you disown your child after each disagreement? The abuse, the power struggle, the hatred. Why call yourself a human at all?
Jungkook is a product of his childhood and for the longest time, had a fear of sudden, loud noises which stemmed from his dads constant yelling. And, although it took him many, many years to overcome his battle, he’s not any less of a worthy solider. 
His mom is a good woman regardless if she spends her days thousands of kilometres from her family. Every week without fail, she mails her son an envelope full of various Australian animal trinkets, photo cards, and images of her and her koalas. She constantly entertains the idea that he should come and live with her for a while. And, the way she describes the Australian heat and the blue oceans makes him consider doing just that. 
With the back of his head propped up against the bathroom cabinet and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth, Jungkook dangles the Hello Kitty keychain in front his face and allows himself to smile at the thought of you. You've made him smile more in these past few weeks than he's ever genuinely smiled before. So much so that it feels like he steps into a completely different world whenever he's with you. Your smile can light up a room, your smartness astounds him, and although your dress sense isn't trendy in the slightest, he still likes how it looks on you.
You walk around like a mom with your cuffed jeans, slogan shirts and cardigans. You're so fucking lame, but he likes you so much. You're so fucking lame, but there's nobody else that he'd rather spend his time with. You make him feel seen, heard, that his issues aren’t irrelevant and it’s more than okay to talk about them. You’re his lifeline and he has the option of wrapping his arms around you instead of being still in the water and drowning. 
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Three days pass and although it pains him to keep away from you, he knows it’s in his best interest to do just that. He spends his time thinking, really thinking. Who does he want in his life right now? Why do you make him feel so good? Why does he feel a pain in his chest when you talk with other guys? Why does he only think of you when he touches himself? And, why does he think of you even when he’s not touching himself? And, then it hits him when he least expects it. Literally. He’s walking back to his house from the bus-stop when he realises that he likes you more than a friend. He wants you and he wants more than your body. He wants to hear every detail of your day, your laugh, to kiss you just because he can, to commit to you. To love you. He can’t wait to fall in-love with you. It excites him more than anything he’s ever felt before. It’s then that he does a full 180 and hops back on the bus to make the forty seven minute journey back toward campus. 
It’s 4:29PM. You’re in the library with a cloudy head and a cramped-up hand from writing so much nonsense for one of your assignments. You couldn’t be in a worse mood right now. Jungkook is ignoring you, so you can’t concentrate, and because you can’t concentrate, you can’t finish this assignment, and because you can’t finish this assignment, you can’t get a good grade for the unit.
Holy shit.
Your life was so, so simple two months ago. This entire situation has made you realise that you’re not a side character and you’ve always had the option of befriending anyone of your choice, even Jungkook. That’s generally how life goes. It’s brought on more bad than it has good, though, and that’s what hurts you so much. You never want to be the reason for somebody’s tears.
But, just as you think that your day couldn't possibly shift in mood, a stranger decides to pull up the seat next to you. Only, this person is no stranger to you. You could recognise that dark hair and honey skin from a mile away.
Jungkook lays the side of his face against your lap and closes his eyes. He doesn’t care how it may look to the conservative librarians or to other students. He just wants to lay here and feel your hands run through his hair and the pads of your fingers stroke his skin.
"Found you." He mutters, earning a small smile from your lips. But, he doesn’t say what he thought he had the courage to say. Instead, he just lays here and hopes that you feel what he does. 
"I didn't make it that difficult."
Thanks for reading! 
permanent taglist (for all of my works) — @zeharilisharaban @ayumimegami @philostuff @carolsummerlove @piaesthetic @viokook @bangtan-serendipity @kookie-monsteur @codeinebelle @omot7 @jeon-ggukkie @prdshobi @kookoo-kachoo @goldenlilyz @chiminies-noona @seolaryj @fancycollectormoon @she-is-dreaming
7K notes · View notes
ddaeng-181338 · 2 years ago
Cold | MasterList
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Cold MasterList — I’ve seen people do this before for different series and I figured it would be a good idea to keep all chapters to this story in one place. I will probably be doing this for future series as well!
This will be updated as the story progresses
How I see the settings of Cold
Character profiles 
Chapter | 01
Chapter | 02
Chapter | 03
Chapter | 04
Chapter | 05
Chapter | 06
Chapter | 07
Chapter | 08
Chapter | 09
Chapter | 10
Chapter | 11
Chapter | 12
Chapter | 13
Chapter | 14
4K notes · View notes
jimlingss · 3 years ago
The Truth Between Us | 01
[!!] CO-WRITTEN WITH @gukyi
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⇒ Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 [Finale] || epilogue
⇒ summary: a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.
⇒ enemies to lovers au with various other au’s thrown in there
⇒ word count: 14k
⇒ genre: fluff, angst, drama
⇒ warnings: alcohol consumption + mentions of injury
⇒ a/n: hey guys, this is a fic written with @gukyi - we’ve both been working on for so long and for the first half of 2018. so, if you don’t send her a message too, i will come find you and shank you. other than that, thank you for reading and please enjoy!!
You’re starting to hate the color red.
Not just any red. Bright, angry, scarlet red, in specific. Scarlet red is the color of your crushed hopes and dreams, your lowering self-esteem, and your failing career.
It is also the color of the ink that a certain Min Yoongi uses whenever you send him your most recent manuscript. After he receives your email with your formatted, proper, tidy Word document, he prints the entire thing out like the pretentious asshole he is, and decorates every page with dashes of red, vicious marks that criticize each and every letter.
It’s the hue of crimson that bleeds through the white paper, trickling to the black words and marring each emotion you laid delicately down, only for him to cross it out with X’s and O’s like he’s playing a game of Tic-Tac-Toe. It’s the shade you see each time you interact with the bastard. Red ink is what you imagine would flow from out of his body if you launched over the table and stabbed him in the neck with a fork.
Each time you meet up with him to discuss future improvements, he merely hands the paperclipped stack back to you with a frown and says the same thing each time: “Needs work.”
You’re done. And you pray some deity, god or higher power out there will give you more patience to deal with this man and not murder him in cold blood. You’d rather not spend the rest of your days handcuffed and crying behind bars - though sometimes and only sometimes, you wonder if it’ll be worth it.
“Do you not understand the words coming out of my mouth?” He lifts an eyebrow up. “I said: ‘needs work’.”
Min Yoongi doesn’t realize that you cried over this chapter, sobbing all over your keyboard from the heart wrenching sadness of the characters. After struggling over writer’s block for the past three weeks, you rushed to make the deadline, pulling all-nighters and drinking enough caffeine to get you hospitalized. But when you were finished, you were satisfied. It’s a masterpiece…
“It’s bad.”
“How is it bad?” You scoff, blood pressure spiking by the second and your temples pulsing. Min Yoongi, on the other hand, is picking some dirt from under his fingernail, appearing indifferent and only irritating you further. “This chapter is everything for the ending. It explains how he’ll sacrifice anything for her.”
“Well, I think it’s unrealistic.” He points to the top piece of paper, taking a casual sip of the coffee in front of him. Min Yoongi likes his coffee pitch black, like what you imagine the color of his heart is. He exhales as his mouth detaches from the rim. “Why would anyone ever want to sacrifice themselves for the sake of ‘love’? Aren’t you being too idealistic? It’s not practical in the least bit. This isn’t some teenager fanfiction. You’re writing a goddamn book that will be published.”
You scowl, your eyebrows knitting themselves together. “I’m sorry you might not be able to understand since you’re a coldhearted, love-hating bastard who’s never been in a real relationship.”
“Wow,” Yoongi chuckles at the low insult. “I thought we were trying to be professionals here.”
You groan, fingers coming up to rub at your temples in anguish. “If you hate my work so much, then why did you even pick my manuscript in the first place?”
The man across from you with his sleepy eyes and ruffled black locks smirks at your annoyance. It’s almost like he goes out of his way to torture your existence or gets off on making you upset. You wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the dirty fantasy he jerks off to.
“You have potential,” Yoongi deadpans.
Potential. That might be your least favorite word in all of the Oxford dictionary. Potential is the word you use when you know someone’s never going to reach their goals but don’t want to tell them that straight to their face. It’s the word you use when you’re talking to children who you know will never amount to anything but don’t want to hurt their feelings. Potential makes you feel useless, a child cowering under Min Yoongi’s glare.
Potential is a possibility. Potential isn’t certainty. Potential isn’t enough.
“Wow, thanks,” you scoff emotionlessly. “Good to know my work means literally nothing. Do you see that?”
“See what?” Yoongi asks, an eyebrow quirked in distaste.
“My self-esteem skyrocketing at your sage words of encouragement,” you tell him, sneering. Pointing to the sky, your eyes follow your finger. “Look at it. It’s all the way up there.”
“Just because you’re writing is like a teenager’s doesn’t mean you can act like one as well, Y/N,” Yoongi remarks in a condescending tone, his deep timbre shaking the hollows of your throbbing skull. “Can’t you handle a little bit of criticism?”
There he goes again, treating you like you’re five. Min Yoongi seems to have a knack for patronizing you, for talking down to you, as if you’re any less of a person than he is. The fact that he’s an acclaimed publisher and that you’re a newcomer seems to have implanted some sort of permanent superiority complex into his brain, one you are determined to demolish.
“You’re an asshole,” you mumble quietly, wondering why on earth you got stuck with an editor like this. No matter what you do or how hard you try, he always rips you down. “Always have been and always will be.”
“Glad to see your first impression of me hasn’t changed.” Yoongi watches as you begin to pack up your belongings, finished with the conversation and exhausted from the ordeal. “Just admit your mistakes and fix them so we can move on. Also, we need to discuss the plans for your ending.”
Your fingers freeze over a file folder. “What?”
“I don’t like it.”
Who does he think he is?
The ending is perfect! It’s the main theme of your entire book and what you decided before you even planned out the rest of the plot! You’ve already rewritten all of your chapters three times each and now he wanted to scrap your most prized part?
“I don’t like you. We can’t all get what we want,” you retort, unable to hold back the snarky comment.
“Good, because I don’t like you either.” He smiles, a rather sweet gesture that contradicts that bitter mouth of his. “Might I remind you, Y/N, I’m the only reason anyone is paying any attention to you whatsoever. If you want me to drop you from this company so you go back to being a jobless, unpublished writer, just let me know.”
“I hate you.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.”
Your heart is beating faster than it should but only because of the rage threatening to burst a blood vessel at your forehead.
You shove everything as quickly as you can in your bag, balling your fist together and clenching your jaw. Your abrupt move to stand onto your feet and the sound of the chair horrifically scratching against the floor garners the attention around the café; the cups on the rattle with the vase of the daffodil flower centerpiece. Yet, you pay no mind, releasing a shaky exhale, staring the impassive man straight in the eyes.
Red… your eyes flicker to the plastic fork by his side, the one he got for the fucking cake when he came in here and ordered an entire meal; it’s as he bought it to munch on while he observes you losing your mind like purchasing popcorn for a movie. Though when you look down at the table between the two of you, his slice of the dessert remains entirely untouched, the fork still pristine. Resisting the urge to stab him with said utensil, you knock over his paper cup of coffee, hoping it to make a mess all over his clothes and perhaps his ego as well…
Except, it’s completely empty.
The cup hits the table, rolling an inch without any liquid inside.
Yoongi immediately smirks, a shit-eating grin adorning his face, amused by your childish behaviour. Goddamn. Why does nothing work out for you?
You stomp away, refusing to humor him any longer. Holding the manuscript tight to your chest, you exit the coffee shop with a frown and a bad attitude as Yoongi sits there, mellow as ever.
Min Yoongi. What is there to say about him?
He doesn’t tick you off and easily crawl under your skin because he’s attractive and you’re trying to deny having some interest in him. No. No. No. This isn’t an enemies to lovers kind of scenario from those terribly cliché fanfictions you wrote when you were fifteen. The kid that’s in that man’s body could have Kim Taehyung’s gorgeous face but with that kind of personality, you’d still be repulsed. It’s simply due to the fact that he’s a jackass that’s always right. Nothing’s worse than someone who’s a correct asshole.
He’s like a talkative and nasty mother-in-law, nagging your ear off, pointing out your flaws and mistakes.
Okay… not even deep down. It’s right in front of your face, really, the red ink circling and crossing off sections of your writing, destroying your beautiful work from the first word on the page. But all the things he points out, you can reluctantly agree if the main lead says something too sappy or you’re being too wordy or the paragraph is too long or if there’s a run on sentence. Damn. The guy is so annoying.
Thus, you spend the next week, getting behind schedule, fixing up all the issues in your work, slamming your head against the keyboard, screaming into your empty apartment.
If the walls could witness your agony, they’d cry.
Ding Dong.
You groan into your hands as they come up to cover your face and wipe away the dried drool on your chin, wondering if your head was making up the noises since all your ears have heard for the past forty-eight hours has been keys being furiously pounded. But before you can even stagger up from your desk and find out if you’re truly hallucinating or not-
“Alright! Alright! Jesus!” You cry, storming over to open the door and narrowing your eyes into someone’s cold glare. “Would you chill the fuck out? Do you want to break my doorbell?”
“Well, if you would answer faster and not leave me waiting out here for five minutes, I wouldn’t have to.” Your precious and sweet editor kicks the door to enter and you step back, whining underneath your breath. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” You smile sarcastically, watching as Yoongi, the bastard, makes himself at home like he owns the place and pays the expensive rent that makes your spine snap. “Why are you even here?”
“It’s been a week.” Yoongi scrunches his nose at the condition of your living space, if you could even call it that. If you’re being honest, it’s a garbage dump in here. But you aren’t going to clean up for your esteemed guest. Min Yoongi could see you pick your nose or hurl a loogie across the room to land on the window and you still wouldn’t give a fuck.
“Has it really been a week?”
“Did you really lose your sense of time?” He smiles, taking in your frazzled state. “Have you even been eating or showering? You smell horrible. And you didn’t even send me your manuscript this time. Where’s your sense of responsibility, Y/N? How are you even an adult?”
There are two things that flash into the recesses of your brain:
Why were you cursed by the Gods to have to meet Yoongi every week? His duties as an editor apparently require him to track you down without any excuse. Even if you decided to run away, he’d knock down every goddamn door in his path to find you, like a parasite.
Why the hell does he look so good? He’s in a long, taupe trench coat that makes him look like some sort of heir to a rich company, sleek black pants and an oversized turtleneck sweater underneath to make one hell of an outfit. Yoongi should’ve been an editor in a fashion magazine instead of doing this. Perhaps if that was the case, then you wouldn’t have to know Min Yoongi and his terrible personality and attractive face and desire to have your head on a silver platter.
But as you swoop your bleary eyes down his figure, your hand slowly raises and your finger points to what’s in his hand. “Plastic bag. What is?”
You’re too exhausted and tired to speak in full sentences, especially when Yoongi’s mere existence causes you to lose more years of your life.
He seems amused by your behaviour and strolls over to your poor excuse of a kitchen, placing his items on your counter island. “I see that your IQ has fallen in the past week. It’s wine and cheese. I thought it would be less excruciating for us to talk if we have something nice to eat— Y/N?”
You’re already behind him, hopping up and down, salivating like a dog coming back from a long walk on a hot day. You haven’t had much to eat aside from instant ramen and some stale bread dipped in milk.
“Fuck yes!” You hurl yourself across the cabinets to grab wine glasses and a knife for the cheese. Yoongi chuckles briefly behind your back and you race over, almost tripping over yourself. “Do you want me to print out what I’ve fixed? I saw all your recommendations and I gotta admit, Min, you got some pretty good sense. It’s a lot better now! Also, is this brie cheese? Nice! Ooh, Merlot wine? Sounds super expensive!”
“Actually,” Yoongi hesitates, still grinning at how you’re suddenly in a much happier mood. “I’m not here to talk about the chapter…’s about the ending.”
Your limbs freeze. Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart falls into your stomach.
A spot of red flickers into your vision, teasing the oncoming outburst and anger threatening to bubble over, masking your rationality. Fuck. You knew this was too good to be true. There had to be ulterior motive for Yoongi to show up otherwise he would have never come sauntering into your place with food that he paid from his own pocket.
“We need to talk about it some time, Y/N. Now that your manuscript is on its last chapters, there needs to be a discussion on how the entire story will close up. If anything, the ending is the most important part of the entire book.”
Yoongi takes a seat at the table, popping the cork off the bottle without any qualms and pouring the alcohol into the glasses. You slump across him, gripping the knife with such strength that your knuckles turn white. What you would do to make an ‘accidental’ slip and whoops, look, Yoongi’s bleeding out on the floor! But sticking to your sanity, instead, you chop up the cheese with much vigor, not once letting your eyes stray from the man’s.
“What’s the problem with the ending?” you whisper out, breaking the silence and a little hurt that he keeps insulting the part that you treasure the most.
Yoongi takes a cube of the cheese, throwing it into his mouth. “What’s the point?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s supposed to die — what’s the point?”
You lift the stem of the wine glass, pink lips meeting the thin rim. A fruity and sweet liquid floods your tongue, having a smooth finish as it cascades down your throat. It reminds you of plum and cherries and you shut your eyes to savour the taste, tilting your head back until the glass is empty. You exhale, placing it back on the table to fill it up again.
You’re going to need more drinks tonight.
“The point is that it’s impactful,” you muster up, hoping whatever you come up with in your already hazy mind is good enough for Yoongi (it won’t be). “It will stay with readers. It shows how part of the beauty of love is that the feeling is fleeting. He dies for her which is the ultimate form of sacrifice.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes, taking a long sip of the drink. “Sounds like some stupid sappy Romeo and Juliet tale. If he dies, then what was the point of their relationship?”
“The character development? It changed the both of them for the better! And just because he’s gone doesn’t make their entire story is any less important.” You argue back before taking yet another drink. “Don’t you know the beauty in pain? A lot of things in life are happy and pleasant but there’s something about sadness that teaches us we shouldn’t take things for granted. It adds meaning, value, a whole new layer of depth…”
Yoongi stares at you for a long moment, swirling the deep red color in his glass, and he hums. “I just don’t see the reason why he needs to die. I’m not a masochist.”
“Yeah,” you chide, “you’re more of a sadist.”
The man across from you munches on the cheese filled in his cheek as he rolls his eyes at your lame slander. “But that doesn’t make any sense to me—if he dies, then there’s no more story. The entire thing you’ve written thus far has revolved around their relationship, so what is she supposed to do? Is she just supposed to move on? In that dystopian hell? Isn’t that cruel?
“Wow,” you place a hand over your chest, faking a dramatic gasp. “I never knew Min Yoongi had a heart.”
“Oh, trust me. I have a lot of things you wouldn’t expect,” Yoongi chides playfully, taking a quick glance at his crotch that has your cheeks heating up and your eyes rolling. “I’m just trying to give you legitimate advice.”
“You are so not.” You’re aware it’s a dumb reply but you’re too baffled to think of anything else. “You just like making me upset and mad and angry!”
He moves to grasp his wine glass, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Are you going to knock my cup over again?”
At the reminder of the embarrassing move you did a week earlier, you stutter a few times. “Y-you….ugh! I don’t know what your problem is with me! All you do is deny and complain about everything I do!”
“Maybe because that’s my job, idiot.” Yoongi snides, taking another nice long drink. “I have to nitpick your work. I’m your editor.”
“That’s not how—”
He adds on, “—and maybe because you’re kind of cute when you’re pissed off.”
The man looking dastardly in his beautiful white, turtleneck sweater with his black, ruffled hair framing his face doesn’t realize what he’s said until it’s come out of his mouth.
It was a mere slip of the tongue, caused by the intoxication causing him to lightly sway from side to side. You narrow your eyes, lowering your head to lock into his downcasted eyes. What the fuck. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”
Your question drips of shocked surprise, cringing expression and withdrawing yourself in your seat. Yoongi chuckles mirthlessly, downing the rest of his glass and reaching over to the bottle for more.
“Get your head out of the gutter,” Yoongi tells you sharply as he begins to nonchalantly pour more red wine. “I, Min Yoongi, will never ever, in any world, settle for the likes of you, Y/N.”
His sharp tongue and the merciless syllables stab you right where it hurts, which, when you’re this intoxicated, is an awful lot of places. Your heart pounds in your ears. Tears well up in your eyes. Somewhere in the world, lightening strikes down to the ground. The fates mark his words to be a vow, sewing truth and honesty into each of his statements. There’s a shift in the atmosphere.
It’s not because it’s Min Yoongi that said it but you doubt anyone could ever love you. After all, you’ve lived this long alone, haven’t you?
With a stone-cold glare, you stare into his irises as you down your glass in a single gulp, gaze unwavering. Though his words have stung, you refuse to allow them to get the better of you, to let him catch the glossiness of your eyes or the vulnerability that’s been let loose by his hatred.
“Y/N?” Your silence causes Yoongi to soften his tone, carefully analyzing your blank expression. “I’m sorr—”
“Fine,” you interrupt him, having no inklings on what he was going to say. You sincerely just didn’t want to hear his voice anymore. “What do you think would be a better ending than my shitty one?”
The two of you end up having drink after drink, sipping on it and going by the mouthful in order to cope with the other’s presence. The sweet taste of the wine becomes even more addicting and before you realize, the entire bottle is gone and the world around you is spinning like a teacup ride.
“I hate you,” you slur out with a loud giggle when you meet Yoongi’s eyes. You can’t tell if you’re being serious or if it’s just the wine that’s taken away your filter. Everything seems so funny like this. From the way he barged into your home and picks apart the only thing you’re mildly good at to the way he insinuates that no one could ever love you. It’s all so humorous.
You can’t help but laugh.
Yoongi grins, plastered as well and his eyelids become heavy. “‘M glad the feelings are mutual.”
Your drunkenness overwhelms you, leaving a stale yet sweet taste on your tongue as you find your head falling. You collapse on the table next to Yoongi, your heads almost touching each other’s and lips a mere breath away.
You start to regret being here, regret drinking so much when you know all that’s going to change is that Yoongi will have more blackmail material on you tomorrow. Regret letting Yoongi be your editor, regret ever deciding that this would be a valid career choice for yourself.
It seems that all you have is this sickly squeeze of regret weighing upon your shoulders like anchors and….heartache.
Maybe you can just blame everything on the wine, but your mind begins to wander, and you wonder how many universes you will need to search through to find the happiness you so crave.
Slowly, your eyes begin to close, and you can only hope that when they open once more, you won’t be nearly as drunk, as sad, and as close to Yoongi as you are now.
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『The universe has formed.』
Darkness turns to light as you open your eyes, surprised at the lack of a throbbing headache from all the alcohol you willingly poured into your body last night. Slowly, like a haze, the world comes into focus, until you realize that this isn’t exactly the world as you had last left it.
Three things register. One: You’re on a bench. Two: In the middle of a city unknown. Three: Yoongi is nowhere to be found. You stand up shakily, like you’re still drunk, wobbling on weak knees as you sluggishly make your way into the center of the sidewalk, eyes scanning the surroundings. You’re desperate to find at least something that makes sense.
“Get out of the way.”
A stranger collides into your shoulder, scowling and rushing to their place of work.
“S-sorry.” Your arm drops by your side. Your heart catches up to its regular rhythm. And a sudden onslaught of panic begins to rise into your throat. “What. The. Fuck.”
Tall buildings surround you, the city encapsulating your body inside within its twisted roads and winding towers. The sound of cars rush past, morning traffic backed up, honks ricocheting off the cerulean sky. A band of business people march past you in straight rows, train lines flitting past, a murmur of conversations shooting by your ears. It smells of gas exhaust and pollution. You can almost taste the thick smog on the tip of your tongue.
And you run.
Holy shit. How did you get here?
Strangers grunt and gripe as you dart past them, shoving them out of the way. No matter how many roads you sprint down and corners you turn, the street looks exactly the same. It’s as if you are running down the exact same road, over and over. Why were you in the middle of nowhere?
Heaving breaths break through your parted lips, tears welling up into your eyes. The surroundings are unfamiliar, avenue and boulevards that you don’t recognize. You don’t know what city you’re in or even what world this is. Did Yoongi drug you and leave you to die?
“Hey!” Someone shouts when you accidentally bump into them, body crashing into theirs, causing the girl to stagger back. You whip yourself backwards, an apology ready to roll off your tongue but her eyes grow wide and a grin spreads across her face. “Oh, you’re our regular! Y/N, right? Are you coming in to make an order?”
In one hand, she’s holding a watering can, tipping it over into the potted daffodil flowers outside the entrance of the store. And all you can do is blink. “W-what?”
Quickly, you look down at her clothes until your eyes catch a glimpse of the logo on her brown apron. Love You A Latte. What? You’ve never heard of this place in your life.
The girl tilts her head, confused. “Hmm?” She asks. “You come in all the time, right before your class. I’m actually heading out right now, but I think Yoongi’s still in there, if you wanna go and see him,” she informs you, pointing to the quaint little coffee shop behind her, bell ringing every time someone steps onto the doormat.
You can only offer a quick, grateful smile before darting into the place, the strong scent of coffee beans slamming into you like a wall. Your eyes scan the tables, bouncing from table to table past the clusters of customers chatting to each other, Yoongi nowhere in sight. You couldn’t imagine him finding the time in his packed schedule to go and lounge around in a new café that’s just popped out of nowhere. Why would that girl tell you Yoongi’s here? How does she even know him? Unless…
Before you can stop yourself, you whip around to the coffee counter and see his black hair bouncing frantically as he darts from station to station, clearly clueless. As normally as possible, you make your way to the counter under the ‘Pick Up Here!’ sign, avoiding the long line at the register while trying to catch his attention.
“Yoongi!” You hiss, leaning over the granite. “Yoongi!”
Yoongi whirls his head around to the source of the sound of his name, the tousled strands of his locks brushing against his sweaty forehead. When his tired eyes meet yours, his tense shoulders ease. You swear that he’s never looked so relieved to see you in his life.
“Y/N!” He says back, dashing over to you and pretending to keep his hands busy, like he’s actually qualified to work as a barista in a bustling coffee shop. If the circumstances weren’t so dire, you’d find amusement in his suffering and dismay. “Y/N, w-what the hell is going on here?! Please tell me that it’s not just me.”
“What?” You ask, an eyebrow raised.
The terror and distress from earlier has diminished with Yoongi here in front of you. You’re not alone. And that thought is more comforting than you’d like to admit.
“Please tell me that you woke up in this random ass coffee shop that we’ve never heard of before even though last night we definitely were not here and also very intoxicated,” Yoongi elaborates, looking up every so often at the scowling customers tapping their foots relentlessly and impatiently, waiting for their mountain of orders. “Maybe we drank more than we thought.”
“No, uh, I’m definitely here with you,” you tell him tentatively, eyes scanning the place warily.
“Okay, then answer me this: what the fuck?”
Unhelpfully, you shrug. Yoongi knows just as much as you do, and right now, that doesn’t seem like very much. “I don’t know, okay? I really...really don’t know.”
“That’s a shocker,” he deadpans, a slight tug on the corner of his lip. It was odd. No matter what circumstances or situation you’re in, Yoongi always tries to get under your skin but for once, you appreciate the distraction.
You roll your eyes, heaving out a long sigh. “Trust you to insult me even though we just woke up in some alternate universe from hell!”
Yoongi, despite the cloud of bewilderment surrounding the both of you, chuckles to himself.
“Maybe we’re in a dream.” It sounds reasonable considering how much you both drank last night and if Yoongi’s here with you, you highly doubt he drugged you or went this far to make an elaborate prank. “Try pinching yourself.”
“What?” His face twists up, nose scrunching like he ate something sour. “Why me?”
You give him an unimpressed expression. “Just do it.”
Yoongi gives in and pinches his skin. He sharply inhales at the sting, rubbing his hand over the wound. “Fuck. That hurt.” He looks at you, you look at him. The both of you hold your breaths, waiting.
Nothing happens.
After a second, you try jumping up and down, shaking all your limbs, hoping and begging inside your head to wake up. Yoongi smiles at your attempts, drawing the first conclusion of the situation. “Okay, we’re not in a dream then.”
“Then where the hell are we?!”
Before you arrived, Yoongi had asked his “co-worker” where he was, and they only stared at him blankly without answering. The customers didn’t say much either aside from making their orders and then speaking to each other. It was almost as if Yoongi wasn’t supposed to speaking to these if they were merely the backdrop that moved.
“Hey!” A voice barks from the back, from a mysterious male who had thrown an apron at Yoongi earlier and told him to get to work. Now, his visage is reddened, and he stands with his arms shoulder width apart, hands on his hips. “Why aren’t you doing anything?! There are customers waiting and you’re not getting paid by standing there!”
Yoongi’s frown deepens, trance broken, and he dips his head lower, concentrating on dumping a spoonful of coffee grains into a machine, a place where it probably doesn’t belong. “S-sorry.”
The boss disappears, returning to his small office and a grin spreads across your face. It wasn’t everyday that Yoongi was reprimanded or scolded by others and you were enjoying it too much for your own good.
“Jokes on you,” you tell him pointedly, reaching a finger over to poke him in the chest. “You don’t know how to make coffee.”
“Yeah, I suppose I don’t,” Yoongi says. You smirk, pleased. “But that doesn’t matter, because we are getting the fuck out of here and going home. Right now.”
Before you can question him further, he’s darting out from behind the counter, grabbing a hold of your hand and pulling you out of the coffee shop, much to the puzzlement of his coworkers, who are all shouting his name as the two of you leave. The sensation of his fingers intertwined with yours is strange, foreign and comforting all at the same time. But you have little time to dwell on the thought as Yoongi drags you down the street, searching hopelessly for a landmark that the two of you will recognize.
You can’t make it very far. By the time you get to the end of the block, Yoongi’s come to a halt, seemingly unable to move any further.
“Uh, hello?” You say. “Keep going!”
“I can’t,” Yoongi says, eyebrows knitted together furiously.
“What do you mean you can’t?”
Yoongi frowns. “I mean, I physically cannot. I’m dead serious, Y/N. We can’t go any further. Look.” He reaches a hand out as it comes up in front of the both of you, and presses. Suddenly, a wall appears. It’s this big, translucent thing that seems to go on for miles and miles above your heads, but it comes to a halt here. Hesitantly, you try yourself, and find that neither you nor Yoongi can go any further than the boundary that this mysterious wall has set for you. Everyone else in this peculiar world is able to move freely back and forth, but you are trapped.
“What now?” You ask loudly, dejectedly.
It’s surreal. If this isn’t a dream and if this isn’t reality, you don’t know where you are or how to escape.
“Beats me,” Yoongi tells you, sighing. He finds the curb of the street and plops himself down on the edge, ripping off the ugly brown apron and chucking it to the ground. The scrap cotton fabric flutters to lay in front of your feet, the cheesy coffee shop title ‘Love You A Latte’ stares at back at you.
You have no idea where there’s a cupcake as a logo when the place sells coffee. Though you must admit, the design itself and the shop was rather cute. If you, yourself, ever owned such a place, from the pink colored walls to the green rounded tables, the open windows and warm ambience, everything is how you would perfectly picture it.
Love You A Latte.
The name tingles something from the back of your brain. Love You A Latte. Your brows furrow deeper. Love You A Latte. You repeat it over and over again. Wait a minute….
“Huh.” You let out a snort of air through your nose. “That’s weird.”
Yoongi looks up at you, the sunlight beaming down onto your face, casting a glow across your skin. “What?”
“Maybe it’s just a coincidence.” You plunk yourself down beside him, grabbing your knees and watching the organized commotion of the streets, the folks who seem to walk stiffly in straight lines, cars following one after another, no delay in traffic lights. “But I named one of my stories ‘Love You A Latte’ before.”
“You did?” Yoongi frowns, having no recollection of such a narrative or manuscript. As your editor, he knows all of your stories, and he certainly would’ve remembered something with such an atrocious title. He would’ve probably thrown a brick at you if you actually wanted to name a book like that. “I’ve never heard about it then.”
“Well, yeah.” You clear your throat, diverting your eyes elsewhere when you can feel the heat of his gaze on the profile of your face. “This is embarrassing but I wrote it in junior high...about my classmate. It’s never seen the light of day but it was like...two hundred pages of slow burn.”
There’s a burst of laughter beside you, Yoongi’s tinkering chuckles and you find your own mouth moving upwards from the sound. It wasn’t uncommon to hear Yoongi laugh, he wasn’t lifeless after all, but he rarely laughed in front of you. He usually laughed at you.
“You did what now?!”
“Hey!” You push him away, the memories making you ashamed and flustered. “To be fair, it was one of the first stories I’ve ever written and everyone writes at least one barista college slow burn in their life!”
There’s a bit of silence as the pair of you settle down, enjoying the city scenery, soaking in each other’s presence. It’s actually kind of….nice when you’re not trying to rip each other’s heads off.
“Hey, Y/N.”
You can practically see the gears in Yoongi’s head turning, the glimmer in his irises, the slight scrunch between his brows. “How did that story end?”
“I…” You rack your brain, picking apart the pieces, bringing yourself back to your awkward years when you sat at the computer, typing away while blasting to pop songs, letting your imagination run absolutely wild. “I don’t know.”
“How do you not know?!” His voice raises a pitch into almost anger and you’re taken back. “Isn’t it your story?”
“Well, excuse me,” you snap back at him, grimacing how the pleasant moment has been broken. “I wrote that ages ago and it was two hundred pages. I’m sorry if I don’t remember.”
“Get up.” Yoongi hauls himself upwards and holds out his hand to you. At your bewildered expression, he repeats himself at a stern tone. “Stand up.”
“What?” You follow his lead anyhow, grabbing his hand and letting him drag you down the street. “Where are we going?”
The boy, whose hand you’re holding, pushes past the crowd of people, crosses the road and lets cars honk at him. Your fingers tighten around his and you struggle to catch up to his wider strides. “We’re going back to the coffee shop.”
“Excuse me?!” You scoff, trying to tug him back but his strength overpowers you and Yoongi’s relentless. Determination has been set within each of his muscles and bones. “And why would we want to do that?! You literally walked off like you were going to quit, we can’t just go back in and—”
“Would you say your story was badly written, Y/N?” The scent of coffee beans has already begun to waft down, twining with the fresh bread from the bakery next door. Yoongi slows down his steps, accommodating for you and your steps synchronize with his. It’s also here and now that you realize how much larger his hand is, his coarse fingers and his thumb that strokes the back of your own hand, sending goosebumps all over your skin.
“Y-yeah.” You cough, attempting to regain composure. “I mean, it was my first story. Of course, it’s horrible.”
“Then would you say it was rather...cliché?”
“Probably?” You don’t understand why he’s bringing up the past or your old writing that he’s never even seen. “Look, if you’re trying to insult me—”
“Just shut up me, okay?”
The bell rings once you’ve both stepped onto the doormat and you enter the quaint little coffee shop once more. There’s more chaos then there was before, customers restless and demanding to know when they’ll receive their order, baristas trying to keep up behind the counter and the boss visibly fuming and talking to one of Yoongi’s supposed colleagues.
You squeeze Yoongi’s hand, and he brings you to a table, swiping someone’s coffee cup from the table and letting them yell at him in anger. He ignores them and turns on his heel, letting go of your hand. The dark brown liquid steams, and he hesitates, taking a look at you. You quirk your head to the side with smile, about to ask him what’s wrong but you never get the chance.
Min Yoongi steps forward. His hand extends outwards. He braces himself.
And the bastard dumps the coffee onto you.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Yoongi?!” You raise your arms, appalled and entirely shocked. Your shirt is drenched with a massive brown stain, the fabric dripping of the liquid.
The entire room has gone quiet as if he’s triggered something. They all turn around to stare with wide eyes, the customers silenced, even his co-workers and boss aren’t stepping in. They’re simply watching the scene unfold and Yoongi smiles.
“Sorry.” He grabs a napkin and begins to dab at your shirt.
You push his hands away, scoffing and stepping back. “Forget about it, asshole.”
“No, I insist, Y/N.” The corner of his lip tugs into a smirk, and he swipes a pen from behind the coffee counter, stealing another napkin before presenting it in front of you. “Give me your number and I’ for your dry cleaning for you.”
You’re appalled by him, mouth drawn open and jaw dropping.
“Are. You. Serious.?”
He shoves both objects into your hands that are shaking from rage. “Just write down your phone number for me.”
“What are you even talking about?” You inhale a huge breath, repressing every urge to punch him square in the face and scratch up his pretty little face. “You already got my number in your phone, you piece of shit-—
“Please?” He begs you with pouty lips and glistening irises that remind you of a puppy, batting his lashes back and forth. You make a disgusted expression, ready to comply with whatever he wants as long as he stops it this instant. “Y/N, I’m asking for your number right now.”
“F-fine.” You comply, cringing at your coffee-soaked shirt and how it clings onto your skin. But you disregard it, quickly scribbling down your phone number and handing the scrap napkin back to him. “Happy?”
Yoongi receives it with a massive grin. “Very.”
It’s then that it hits you, like a bullet train passing through a tunnel. The realization smacks itself across your face, bruising your cheek and stealing the oxygen straight out of your lungs.
“You’re a goddamn genius.”
“I know.”
Your story ended with your classmate asking the main character for their number after bumping into them while serving a cup of coffee. The goal was to get your number.
And now the story’s ended. It’s over.
Yoongi takes your hand and you squeeze his tight, hope sparkling in your eyes as you look up at him. He smiles and all you can hope is that you’ve found a way to escape this mysterious realm and bizarre situation.
A bright light pierces through the windows and into your eyes. It becomes too blinding and you’re forced to shut your lids, holding Yoongi close. You can feel your body being ripped away from your surroundings, the molecules of the world loosening and falling apart.
It all melts away.
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The world rips apart and begins to stitch itself back together. One by one, objects and tangible materials begin to form together, like paint thrown on a white canvas; fields are drawn before being filled with a verdant hue, bright skies cloudless and rippling an azure shade, the sun beams cascading down a slight yellow luminescence.
『The universe has formed.』
This time when you come to, you feel asphalt beneath your fingertips. In front of you is a spilled styrofoam coffee cup, the muggy brown beverage staining the pavement and luckily, this time, your clothes are free from harm. Slowly, the world around you materializes to encompass what appears to be a tennis court beside a school of some sort, and that sinking feeling in your chest tells you that this is probably (unfortunately) a high school. It almost definitely is.
And you haven’t been to one in practically a decade.
It can only mean one thing, the revelation making you sick to your stomach - you’re still not back to reality.
“Y/N! You okay?”
You push yourself off of the ground at the same time a girl who doesn’t look to be older than sixteen rushes over to you, arms outstretched to help you back onto your feet.
“What happened?” You ask, reaching up to press at your temples, massaging away the growing headache. Oh, the side effects of universe-travel.
“You just took a nasty fall,” the girl tells you sorrily. “Are you alright?”
“I feel fine,” you say, taking a quick glance over your shoulder at the poor coffee. It lived such a short life. You didn’t even get to have any coffee at the Love You a Latte place, or whatever it was called. All you got was Yoongi dumping the liquid all over you before demanding your number—!
Fuck, he must be here somewhere. If, by your suspicions, the whole coffee shop ordeal was not a dream (as it doesn’t appear to be), then that means he’s got to be around here, trapped in the same hellish universe as you.
Spinning to the girl beside you quickly, you ask, “Do you by any chance know why I’m here?”
“Aren’t you photographing the tennis district championships for Yearbook?” She asks, bewildered at the fact that you would inquire such a question. She points to the bag on your shoulder, the one that was certainly not there fifteen seconds ago. Your hand hits the canvas instinctively, and you immediately gather that it is a camera bag.
“Oh, right,” you say and laugh stiffly, pretending to know your job all along. “Guess that fall hit me harder than I thought.”
“Stay safe, Y/N. Don’t get hit by any balls in there,” the girl says, patting your shoulder comfortingly. You turn to say something else, ask another question, but she’s already skipping off elsewhere.
It’s strange to be standing right by a High School. Scratch that, not strange but rather an absolute mind-fuck. You could feel it in your bones and muscles, the agility and nimbleness that could only belong to the youth. It was like you transported back into time. The world that you were in made you healthier and young again. You bet that your cheeks are full and flourishing with color, no dark circles under your eyes from working night after night or matted hair from skipping showers. Back then you also had a fast metabolism, able to shove fast-food and garbage into your mouth and have zero repercussions for your actions. Now all you wanted to do was go eat a thousand chocolate bars and cakes but there were more important matters at hand, sadly enough.
Still, it’s a surreal experience to be wandering the grounds in a traditional school uniform again, navy blazer, stockings and skirt, the crest of the institute, a daffodil flower of some sort, printed on the breast pocket your white dress shirt. Perhaps if you were really this young again, you’d tell your past self to never ever meet Min Yoongi. And if you did, you’d run for the hills.
“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi,” you mumble his name with a long sigh, eyes sweeping around the premise.
Cautiously, you approach the tennis court, fingers dancing over the canvas bag as you pull out the camera. It’s a high-tech little thing that you almost definitely don’t know how to use, but you suppose it doesn’t matter, since you’ll only be here temporarily anyway.
The muffled sound of a megaphone echoes throughout the courts as your eyes scan for Yoongi, unsure of what character he may be in this realm. Could he be a spectator, a fellow photographer, a journalist here to interview the players? Or maybe he’s one of those quintessential emo kids that sit alone on the grass with their headphones in, wearing all black under the scorching sun. You wouldn’t put it past the higher power in control of this universe-hopping to give him that role.
You can’t make him out anywhere along the sidelines, which, if your suspicions are correct, can only mean one thing…
“Hey, Min! Pass me a ball, would you?”
Sneakers squeak on the court as you pivot on the spot to the source of the voice. It’s some burly high schooler across the court from you, nodding his head at the boy on the other side of the net. He’s marginally scrawny, smaller than most of the other boys wearing uniforms, with a headband pushing his bangs from his forehead. He looks young. Small. Vibrant.
And that’s when it hits you.
That’s Yoongi. That tiny kid across the way, with the bright red headband on his forehead, that’s him.
Instinctively, you dash over, skirt swishing by your knees, keeping a steady hold on your camera. You meet him as he reaches the tennis ball basket, leaning over in front of you to grab a ball for the unnamed other member of the team.
“Y-Yoongi?” You ask, slightly unsure of yourself. You can’t really bring your brain to believe that it’s actually him.
He looks up at you, and you find yourself practically blown back at the sight. Yoongi looks so… young. There are no faint wrinkles that decorate his forehead, no angry scowl lacing his features. This isn’t the Yoongi you’ve come to know (and despise). At least, not on the surface.
“Y/N?” He asks, seemingly as surprised at the sight of you as you are him. “Is that really you?”
“I could say the same for you,” you say, motioning to him.
The Yoongi in front of you looks like a baby, a tender and gentle looking face, brown doe eyes and despite being a teenager, he has soft and clear skin. His height matches yours and bizarrely, completely contradicting everything you know, he gives off an innocent aura.
It’s baffling.
“Min! Ball!”
Yoongi reluctantly breaks his locked gaze away from you. He turns around and carelessly tosses the ball to unnamed teammate, who grumbles something about how he never liked Yoongi anyway as he trudges back over to practice before the apparent championships that are about to occur.
“I guess when we get transported, we’re turned the ages of whatever the main characters are?” Yoongi deduces, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You only vaguely remember what you looked like in high school, all smiles and warm cheeks and daydreams.
“Can’t believe this is what high school Yoongi looks like,” you say, smirking to yourself. “You look so full of life. What happened?”
“Oh, shut up,” Yoongi sneers in response. “It’s not like you’re the same either. You used to be so pretty, you know.”
“Excuse me,” you say, a hand pressed against your chest in offense. “I’ll have you know, high school me would never date anybody like you. Just in case high school you has the same ego that you do now.”
“Please.” He grins, always finding enjoyment in the banter. “You wouldn’t be able to keep up with me even if you wanted to. We both know you would’ve had a massive crush on this.”
The teenager turns his head to the side towards the sun and bats his lashes dramatically several times, causing you to scoff and jab him in his ribs. In the meanwhile, his teammate on the other side of the court is unimpressed.
“Oi! Min Yoongi! Quit flirting and start warming up! Championships is in an hour!”
“I’m not flirting!” He whips his head around, screaming at the top of his lungs which garners the attention from all spectators. You become flustered from the sudden attention and the people murmuring to each other but of course, Yoongi is unfazed. He simply saunters up to the basket and holds a ball in his hand, preparing for a serve.
You suppose that you should get on with your own job before someone throws you off the court or calls you out too. Thus, you take the camera out, holding it awkwardly in your hands and for precaution’s sake, you sling the strap over your neck. It takes a good minute for you to figure how to turn it on and remove the lens cap but no sooner are you ready, viewfinder pressed by your eye and Yoongi on the other side of your vision.
The corners of your lip immediately tugs. “I’ll make sure to get nice shots of you. Don’t worry.”
“If you can take anything other than a selfie, maybe you should consider a change your profession. Would be better than your trash writing anyways,” he mutters from contempt and scorn, struggling with hitting the ball.
Your jaw clenches but alternatively to starting an argument or giving him a black-eye, your finger begins to spam the shutter button. It’s refreshing not to have to scream at him and extract your revenge in a quieter way.
“Can you move?” Yoongi’s shoulders slump and his arms fall by his side when you’re literally in front of him, camera pressed up to his nose. “Y/N!”
“Wait, wait. Calm down, I’m just trying to get the perfect shot of you. For the Yearbook, y’know.”
“Do you need to be this close?! And why are you taking a picture of my ass now?!”
You start giggling, running around with your excessive energy, zooming in and capturing his nostrils in one shot, his eye in another and one where he’s mid-sneeze. It’s absolutely priceless and you don’t know what you would do to get physical copies of these photos for future blackmail purposes. He’s never let you take pictures of him before and there’s been no reason to but you find a lot of enjoyment at catching him at his worst moments.
“Hey—” Your camera finally drops, hanging at your neck and you frown at him. “Do you even know how to play tennis?”
Yoongi’s been trying to serve but missing the ball every single time, simply batting in the air like it’s a bug swatter. Heck, when he throws the tennis ball into the air, he can’t even catch it in his hand.
“Nope.” He sighs, giving up. “Why do I keep having to do these things that I don’t know how to do?” You shrug, and he gives an unimpressed expression, throwing his arms up to the sky in exasperation instead. “Why are we even here?!”
Your lips pout and you consider all the options you have. “Maybe what we did last time wasn’t right. I...think we should try something else. I might have an idea too.”
“What is it?”
Your fingers lightly pitch the fabric of his short sleeved shirt and you begin to haul him along. “Just follow me.”
Yoongi would otherwise argue and step back, suspecting that you would lead him to his murder site, but he’s much too desperate and curious to. It’s a bit weird for you to have him so obedient but you like the change, even having a slight skip in your step.
Unfortunately, you don’t get the chance to leave the court when Yoongi’s teammate shouts aloud. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!”
The boy behind you exhales in annoyance. “I’m going to pee!”
“With your girlfriend?”
Yoongi runs a hand over his face and when you stop, frozen in your spot, he grabs your hand for convenience sakes and starts pulling you away. “None of your business! And shut the fuck up!”
You stifle back some laughter at his teammate’s appalled expression and the silence of the spectators. As you take charge and lead Yoongi off, none of you realize how your fingers have intertwined with each other’s. “So where are we going exactly?”
“You’ll see.” Your eyes flicker back and forth, humming and scouting the place. “We’ll probably run into the boundary like last time. I doubt we can leave the school grounds, but we can try.”
The both of you end up finding an exit off the grounds, a gate at the back of the school by the gardens, freeing you from the fence that surrounds the entire place. You open it, making stealthy movements as to not alert any of the teachers and as you predicted, the translucence barrier that goes for miles and miles above your head is seen on the other side of the road.
The school is situated in an urban area, busy streets surrounding the building and a few cars rush past, the wind fluttering your clothes and carding through your hair. Yoongi’s grip tightens on you and his brows furrow. “So, what are your plans, Y/N?”
“Well, there’s gotta be a way for us to exit this world and bring us back to reality, right? I’m beginning to think that it’s just our minds traveling and not our bodies.” You stare out at the cars driving past at a fast speed. “Maybe we can somehow bring ourselves back into our bodies in the ‘real’ world. Let me just test my theory out.”
You begin to shake Yoongi’s grip off, but he doesn’t budge one bit, fingers made of iron. The look on his face might even be of concern and worry but…, it can’t be.
“Uh, hello? Earth to Yoongi?” You quirk your head to the side and his eyes refocus. Your own flicker down to your joined hands and you glare at him. “Are you gonna let me go or what?”
“Fine.” He throws your hand away like it’s infested with germs. “Just don’t be an idiot. It’s bothersome when I have to clean up after your mistakes.”
You stare at him, breath held, lips fallen into a straight line. “Do you really have to always—”
There’s a pause and upon your hesitation and the slight hurt that flashes across your features, he swallows hard and nudges you. “What?”
“Never mind.” You shake your head, turning to face the busy street. “Just shut your mouth, alright?”
A handful of cars passes by, the sound of whirling zooming past, wheels spinning with every mark on the pavement and the wind smacking against your skin. You brace yourself. Your heartbeat thunders inside your chest and finally, you step out onto the pavement.
A car in the other lane rushes past and your eyes find another incoming vehicle, barreling straight towards you. Your hand balls up into a fist, your teeth grit and you shut your eyes tight with the hope that you’ll somehow be knocked back into reality with enough pain.
In the darkness behind your lids, there’s the deafening sound of a honk, someone blaring out the sound for you to get out of the way but you stand with your feet rooted into the ground.
The wheels roll on the road, tires screeching on asphalt, breaks slammed and a marking the road.
It comes closer, and closer, closer...closer….
“What the fuck?!”
A hand wraps around your shoulder and one moment you’re facing an oncoming car and the next, you’ve collided into Yoongi’s chest, falling back onto the curb of the road. Your wrist hits the cement, rocks digging into your skin and you cry out from pain. The honk of the car whizzes past you and you wheeze, Yoongi hyperventilating as well.
He lets you go and practically screams with his face twisted in anger. “Are you fucking insane?! Are you out of your goddamn mind?! Are you crazy?!”
“I-it was a test.” You clutch your hand, nursing the wound and watching the blood trickling from your palm. The skin has peeled, grains of debris stuck within the ridges and it stings. “I thought we’d go back...”
“Well look.” He takes your wrist, examining your injury with a frown so deep it looks like it physically pains him. “You got hurt! Y-You could’ve fucking died, Y/N.”
You frown. “That was the goal, asshole. Haven’t you ever seen the dramas where the main character gets transported into some alternate universe and realizes that she has to die to get back?”
“Not a risk I want to be taking, Y/N,” Yoongi says gruffly, muffling some other expletives as he randomly produces some tissues from the pocket of his tennis shorts, dabbing them on the wound.
“Aw, does the great Min Yoongi actually care about me?” You ask, bottom lip out in a puppy-dog pout as you lean into him with mock affection. “Poor old me?”
He scrunches up his nose and pushes you away, scoffing slightly. “Don’t get in over your head. I just don’t want your fictional, alternate universe death on my conscience.”
“Whatever you say…” You singsong before considering the next course of action. There was a very narrow amount of choices that you had left. It wasn’t like you could walk off when the barrier was right in front of you. “Come on. Let’s head back.”
Leisurely, you begin walking back to the tennis courts, the campus underneath your feet already starting to feel familiar. This universe is not nearly as terrible as the last one, though you could do without the uniforms and the war flashbacks to your own high school days. Or maybe that’s just because you’re already beginning to get used to this, travelling through the space-time continuum together and being forcibly placed into whatever your wildest stories dream up. Back home, the only constant in your life was the computer in your lap, filled to the brim with megabytes upon gigabytes of your writing. But here, the only constant is Yoongi. You know that, no matter how many universes you go through, he’ll always be there too.
“The only way we know how to move on from this world is fulfilling the ending and I don’t think we should experiment any other ways for the sake of our own safety.” Yoongi inhales, eyes fixated on your wrist, watching as the blood slowly seeps through the tissues. Subconsciously, he reaches into his pocket in the hopes that he’ll be able to find more, but it’s empty. “So, how does this story go?”
“I don’t really remember much about it,” you helplessly admit. “I just remember being a high schooler and writing about high school because it was the only thing I knew.”
“Were you even in Yearbook?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, amused.
You laugh, smacking his shoulder gently with your undamaged hand. “No way, man. Do you even know me?”
“They’re all talking about some sort of championships,” Yoongi tells you. “Does that ring any bells, or has your brain always been kinda empty?”
“Okay, first of all, fuck you,” you say pointedly, blinking in surprise. “Secondly, I think I remember something like that. The male lead, he had to, uh—” You start to snap your fingers as your brows furrow, desperately trying to conjure up what happens next. “Oh! In the end he won. He had to win!”
“You’re telling me I have less than an hour to learn how to play tennis and win the championships?” Yoongi freezes on the spot.
“Don’t get mad at me! It’s not like I can do anything about it,” you cry defensively.
Yoongi flails his arms wildly in exasperation as he picks up the pace, moving significantly faster than he was two seconds ago. You fumble to keep up with him, scurrying along the pathway with a sturdy hold on the camera bag resting over your shoulder. He soon breaks into a run, and you are suddenly less inclined to follow suit. You give up, watching him dart back to the tennis courts as they come into view. He looks so adorable when he runs, hands straight out and his entire body moving at rigid angles in order to take him where he needs to go.
You’re so engrossed with watching Yoongi as he shuffles over the court to begin working on his poor (from what you’ve seen, at least) hand-eye coordination that you sideline someone entirely, crashing into a shoulder that’s at your eye level.
“Oh, sorry! Didn’t see you there,” the deep voice responds, timbre vibrating and shaking you out of your trance.
A blink of the eyes and suddenly you are face to face with none other than Kim Taehyung.
Holy shit. It’s Kim-fucking-beautiful-Taehyung.
The first thing that hits you is that he looks like the age he is in real life, and most certainly not that of a high schooler’s. This universe is very strange. Not that you’re complaining, of course, because Kim Taehyung, the movie star and Hollywood’s favorite charmer, just apologized to you in full tennis garb. He’s standing right in front of you, smiling happily, blonde locks swept up, tall stature towering over yours and man, does he look good in a headband.
You’re nearly speechless, mouth open disgustingly wide and probably attracting flies.
“You okay there?” Taehyung asks, amused with the shell shocked expression on your face.
Eyes flickering furiously, just to make sure that this is real and that Kim Taehyung is here, talking to you, looking straight into your eyes, sporting shorts and a tight shirt that hugs his muscles. You manage a meek nod while internally screaming and combusting. “Yeah, yeah, I am. You’re… Taehyung, right?”
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
“That’s me.” Taehyung grins, and you wonder why nobody else around you is questioning the fact that a twenty-year-old is floating through the crowd of sorry-looking high schooler’s like yourself. Perhaps this bizarre universe has no effect on him and his gorgeous face, his charming aura, his stunning personality. He’s certainly being treated like a high schooler. “And you are—?”
“Y/N,” you manage to utter out, surprised you even got your name correct in the presence of Hollywood royalty. You’re starstruck, barely keeping it together and holding squeals inside your throat. It takes everything within your weak knees not to buckle and bow down to his godly existence. His skin is literally glowing in the sparkling sunlight.
How is it possible that he’s so much more handsome in real life than in pictures and videos? The cameras don’t do him justice at all and you feel unworthy to lay your eyes upon him. He’s blinding and you may have to book an optometrist appointment if you ever make it back without getting a heart attack first.
“And what brings you here, Y/N? Tennis fan?” Taehyung asks, enticing you further.
Clumsily, you pull the camera from your bag, hand shaking and the pain of your injury forgotten. “Y-Yearbook. I...I just take photos of you guys and m-make it seem like you’re enjoying yourselves.”
Taehyung laughs, hearty and warm. “Well, somebody needs to make us look more attractive than we are. Tennis is such a nerdy sport, don’t you think? It’s people like you who give it a better rep.”
Truth be told, the boy in front of you doesn’t need any help to look more attractive—he does that all on his own. Kim Taehyung — you remember having the biggest crush on him during your high school and early college years, posters plastered all over your walls and locker. It was only reasonable that you made him a character within your story. It’s just a shame he’s not the main and you have to deal with Yoongi instead.
“Well, you guys do all the hard work,” you say sheepishly. At the same time, you feel a hand on your shoulder, and you whip your head to the side to see Yoongi, panting, sweaty, out of breath, but next to you.
“Y/N, what are you doing?” He asks gravelly.
“I’m talking with Taehyung,” you say hesitantly, motioning towards the taller boy. Taehyung gives a polite but distant wave. “You know Taehyung, don’t you—?”
“We’ve faced off quite a few times before,” Taehyung informs the both of you, much to your obvious surprise. “Yoongi gives quite the run for your money.”
“I do?” Yoongi asks, seemingly in shock at the fact that in this world, he may actually be better at tennis than he thinks he is.
Taehyung chuckles. Everything he does is just so attractive, you nearly swoon right then and there. “Humble as always. You know, Y/N and I were just talking about—”
“Uh, Y/N, do you mind coming over to help me with something? I need someone to toss balls at me for practice,” Yoongi interrupts him halfway through his sentence, something you wouldn’t necessarily expect from him. Sure, he interjects you all the time, but that’s different. You’re used to it. You also expect it. Taehyung, on the other hand, who has been absolutely nothing but entertaining and courteous…
“Yoongi!” You hiss, but he’s already begun to drag you away from Taehyung without even letting you bid him goodbye. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I was talking to him! Do you even know who he is?”
“He’s the competition,” Yoongi responds roughly.
“He’s Kim Taehyung! The actor! Jesus Christ, I get five minutes to look at his face up close and you just ruin it, like you ruin everything,” you tell him, bitter and perturbed.
“He was very clearly trying to get in your pants, Y/N,” Yoongi informs you coldly, picking up a stray tennis ball and rolling it between his fingers.
A smile spreads across your face, one of excitement and you even twirl a piece of hair in your finger. Maybe it’s because you’ve been transported back to your teenage self but you can’t help the little giggles spilling from your lips. “So?”
“‘So’?” Yoongi replies, nose scrunching up in disgust, appalled at your behaviour. “We have bigger things to worry about right now, Y/N! We’re stuck in this infinite hell hole of roleplays!”
Then, it hits you.
“Are you… jealous, Yoongi?” You ask, a grin dancing at the corners of your lips as you lean into him, hoping to catch a better glimpse of his eyes.
He scoffs in disbelief, though it is incredibly unconvincing. “Jealous? Of Taehyung? As if. Like I would ever want to date you.”
Stunned, you place your hands on your hips as you gaze at him closer. “You’re jealous of him. Oh my God, you, Min Yoongi, are jealous of Kim Taehyung because he was attracted to me! Oh, this is so going on Twitter once we’re back home.”
Yoongi fights back the smile that begins to grow on his face, attempting to replace it with a scowl. “You wish,” he mutters, but it’s too late now, you already know.
Maybe being trapped at a high school tennis court isn’t so bad, after all.
It doesn’t take long before the championships begins. A bunch of students gather as spectators, the coaches from both teams standing with hands on their hips by the fence, a kid from the school newspaper and writes the sports column becomes the MC. Eventually, Yoongi’s teammate hounds you off the court and you’re forced to stop trying to help Yoongi hit the ball, dragging your camera and your body to the sidelines.
Despite Yoongi being a complete asshole and having a trash personality, you’d like to say that he’s a rather reliable and trustworthy individual. Whatever he does, even if he’s mean about it, he’s good. He writes well. He edits well. He’s always been there. But this time, in regards to tennis, you’re not so sure if you’re confident in his abilities.
“Welcome to the annual tennis championships, everybody. Hosted over several schools in the county, today is where the final game is. After weeks, it’s finally here. To the left of the court, we have Kim Taehyung and his teammate and to the right, we have Min Yoongi and his teammate. This is a tight competition, no one knows who will win! It seems, however, as though Min Yoongi will be the first to serve. He’s standing in the baseline corner, preparing to serve towards Kim Taehyung!”
The MC is speaking into the microphone erratically, the coaches apparently annoyed by the overly dramatic descriptions but the bystanders are excited, cheering and rooting the respective teams on.
You’re watching with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, foot tapping nervously, mumbling prayers and hopes underneath your breath. Yoongi appears to be focused, swallowing hard and looking off. There’s nothing you can do but try to support him.
“Oh, and he tosses the ball towards the service area and….completely misses!” There’s a murmur amongst the crowd and Yoongi seems to swear underneath his breath. “Very strange. But looks like he’s getting a re-serve. His teammate is shouting at him and the coach looks shocked! Min Yoongi missing the tennis ball is unheard-of. Now that I realize it, he’s not even holding his racquet properly. A very awkward position indeed, could this be a secret strategy?”
Before the coach can step up, you cup your mouth, screaming across the court. “Min Yoongi, get your fucking head in the game or I’m gonna beat your ass!”
“Miss Y/N!” A teacher by the benches gasps, scandalized. “Language!”
“Sorry.” You brush her off in a mutter, turning back to focus.
The MC jumps on with the new development faster than someone can go chasing for the tennis ball that rolls away. “It seems as though his girlfriend has shouted out some encouragement and oh! There’s a grin on his face! Will this help with Yoongi’s unusually poor performance?”
You whirl yourself around to the nerdy kid rambling into the microphone. “I’m not his girlfriend!”
“And there was just a reaction a reaction from his girlfriend claiming that she’s not his girlfriend. Could there be perhaps drama off the court that is being brought onto the court? That would explain Yoongi’s bizarre behaviour. Has love gotten in the way of the sport?! What exactly is going on?! Stay tuned folks!”
You facepalm. More than ever, the attention has been pinpointed to you. All the students are giggling or laughing, nuding each other or gesturing towards your figure. You can only imagine the rumours that will spread now but thankfully, you’re not in high school anymore.
“Yoongi is serving again and oh! It’s a let! He hit the net and looks like he’s serving again!”
It’s absolutely antagonizing to watch Yoongi try to serve, how he flings his racquet at some point straight out of his hand or nearly smacks his teammate like the latter is a fly. If you weren’t so on edge, you’d laugh at him until your stomach hurt but now you could only feel shame and humiliation for the poor boy.
At the moment where you wonder what it would take if the Earth would open up and swallow you whole to bring you away from this second-hand embarrassment, your friend from earlier comes sauntering up to you. “What’s going on? Are you taking pictures?”
“Right.” You clear your throat, fiddling with the camera and spamming whatever photos you can. It wasn’t like you were actually a part of the Yearbook. “I forgot.”
Your supposed friend nudges you with a playful smile. “Too preoccupied with watching Yoongi, huh?”
A long sigh spills from your mouth and you stare at her in exhaustion, watching her ponytail swing in the wind and from her bouncy momentum. “This is a gong show, of course I can’t keep my eyes away. He sucks.”
“Please.” The girl rolls her eyes. Unlike Taehyung and Yoongi, you’re unable to make out most of her features. It’s almost like she’s merely a background character and thus, lacks detail. She has a normal face but every time you concentrate too hard to see the specifics, your vision becomes blurry. “You don’t need to pretend with me. Everyone knows you guys have a thing going on.”
You frown. “What thing?”
“ know.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shudder at the thought of it, nearly gagging and you bring down the vomit that threatens to crawl up your throat. “Me and Yoongi? Ew. Gross. No. For the record, I like Taehyung a lot better. At least he’s charming and good-looking and—”
“Oh, what’s this?!” The MC’s voice rises in a pitch, re-gaining the attention of all the spectators again, including you. “Min Yoongi’s team fifteen! That forehand stroke was powerful! The strength coming from the wrist and completely past Taehyung’s teammate! Now this is the Yoongi we all know!”
Your friend giggles. “Looks like your boyfriend is doing well. I was just stopping by so good luck on those photos, Y/N. Hope he wins!”
You open your mouth to tell her that Min Yoongi is 100%, absolutely, definitely not your boyfriend, but she’s already bouncing away.
“I… hope he wins too.” Or God knows what would happen to the pair of you.
The competition continues, sun beaming down, sweat slicking off of Yoongi’s face, his tiny body moving from side to side as he chases after the neon yellow ball. It’s a bit endearing to see him try so hard and you make sure to take a few nice photos of him. Although you might never be able to see physical copies, you have it imprinted in your memory.
“And look at that, a backhand stroke! Yoongi’s sliced the ball! This is very weird. It doesn’t seem like there’s any strategy involved at all! It’s almost like he’s just batting at it with all his might and hopes that it works out. But maybe this is just the secret strategy of a professional!”
“Oh! A forehand stroke with a topspin. Nice!” The commentary continues, one after another, and you hold your breath, head moving back and forth to follow the game. There are harsh breaths inhaled, clean shoes squeaking against the court and claps that follow with every hit. “Taehyung's team is catching up! It’s forty-five to forty-five, folks! Deuce! It’s served again, hit up, the ball is close to the net! Oh, Yoongi dives and wow! Look at that forehand volley! Beautiful. But where is that ball going?!”
“Y/N!” Yoongi screams your name and throws his racquet to the ground. “Shit!”
The ball at an astronomical speed smacks you straight in the face and you stumble back, shocked and vision spotting with black dots. Your camera drops, slung over your neck and the back of your head hits the fence. “It headed straight for his girlfriend! Yoongi’s sprinting off the court, the coach is calling a break!”
Before the pain can completely register and the adrenaline is coursing through your veins, Yoongi has grabbed onto your shoulder, scanning the bruise that’s beginning to bloom, and he mutters a string of curse words. “A-are you okay?!”
“I’m fine.” You nod to reassure him, unable to feel your numb cheek. It might hurt like a bitch later but for now, it feels like nothing. “God, just go back and make sure we win.”
The boy hesitates, puppy-dog eyes that stare back at you and then suddenly, he whirls around and begins dashing away. “Let me get you some ice!”
“W-wait!” Your arm raises, but he’s gone, jumping up the stone flight of stairs two at a time towards the entrance of the school.
There’s nothing you can do when he’s suddenly disappeared and you settle for sitting down at the bench, thanking a stranger when they hand you a water bottle. As you begin to feel the pulsating of your blue skin, Taehyung approaches with a small smile. “Are you alright, Y/N? That must’ve really hurt.”
You smile meekly, damning yourself why you had to get a massive bruise when you’re talking to someone so gorgeous. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. You’re doing really well.”
“Nah, you don't have to be so nice to me. I’m getting crushed by Yoongi.” He plops down beside you, taking a short break as well. “I usually can predict his next move but for some reason, he’s really erratic today. He bats at the air a lot and sometimes he misses, sometimes he doesn’t. I don’t really know what’s going on.”
You laugh stiffly, having more than an inkling as to the sudden change in the supposed tennis player. “Me either. I never know what’s going on in his head.”
Taehyung twists his body towards you and shuffles with something in his back pocket. “Your hand is hurt, right? I have a band-aid. Y’know, always gotta be prepared when you’re playing sports. You never know when you could be injured.”
You watch as he removes the wrapper and plasters the bandaid gently onto your palm, your hand placed on his knee, blood that’s now dried up, but he doesn’t seem to care. You can’t resist the smile when his eyes flicker upwards to watch your own reaction. “T-thanks. That’s sweet of you.”
“No problem.” He sits back, giving you more space, and he seems to hesitate, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “Hey, Y/N, I know you go to this school and you’re friends with Yoongi but...what do you think about going with me afterwards to grab pizza? I just...would really like to get to know you, Y/N. You’re pretty cool.”
“I would love that.” And you really would. Your High School Fantasies could be fulfilled and your mind was racing with thoughts of sitting across from the Kim Taehyung, eating pizza and chatting away. Considering how popular he is in real life, this is a miracle on its own. But, it could never happen.
Not when you were going to travel to the next universe and never get your chance.
“But...but…” Every syllable physically pains you, hurting you a lot more than the bruise and tears nearly fall from your eyes. “I’m with Y-Yoongi. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” He has a crestfallen expression and there’s a pang straight to your heart. In the next second, he smiles at you. “No problem, then. Thanks for letting me know. We’re cool.”
“Y-yeah.” You observe how he slowly gets up and begins to walk away. “G-good luck on the rest of the match, Taehyung!”
The beautiful, blinding actor grins at you and you let out a sigh, shattering your own delusions that were right on the edge of your fingertips. Though the petty agony doesn’t last long when Yoongi comes running back, awkward motions with his rigid hands and scrawny body.
“Damn, I got lost in there. It’s fucking big but I found ice at the nurse's office. Here.”
“Woah.” You flinch back upon contact with the freezing ice pack pressing against your cheek but Yoongi’s other hand comes around your neck, holding you in place and pressing the ice to your bruise. “I can do this on my own.”
“It’s fine. I still got time.” He responds quickly, spewing out words like he has a million thoughts and doesn’t know what he should exactly say to you. “You have to keep it on or else it’ll get worse. Also, when I was there, I got a band-...what’s that?”
You follow his line of sight straight to the open palm in your lap and you try to fight a smile, ultimately losing when it spreads across your visage. “Taehyung gave it to me. He’s nice, huh? When you left, he even came and sat down, and we chatted together. Like actually talked to me Yoongi, He talked to me. He even asked me out but I can’ know I can’t. But I really should’ve at least asked for his signature or something. Do you think you could ask for me?”
“No.” Yoongi crumples something in his other hand and throws it into his pocket. You have no idea what it is but by the look on his face, you don’t ask. He simply puts the ice pack down, making you grab hold of it, and he begins to walk off. “Do it yourself.”
You watch his backside for a mere moment before you stand up. “Wait, Yoongi!”
He halts, scowling and showing the profile of his face. “What the hell do you want?”
“You’re gonna win this!”
His irises flicker to your fist pump that goes towards the sky, your tiny jump and a determined look on your face. His frown melts into a tiny smile, the corner of his lip turning, and he shifts back around. “Damn straight I am.”
No sooner is the competition resuming.
“This could be the last match, everyone. The winner will be decided on this game. It’s tense. The pressuring rising on the court. There’s fire in everyone’s eyes, coaches holding their breaths. Taehyung is preparing to serve, he tosses the ball and sends it off! Oh, they hit it back in one powerful stroke and wow- another, back and forth. Jesus! Yoongi struck with an overhead return, is it gonna make it?!”
You hold the ice-pack to your swelling skin, breath caught in your throat and everyone’s heads follow the yellow ball that rises up to the sky. Yoongi’s racquet is still up in the air, having spontaneously whacked it with all his might. The two of you have no idea what’s going on or any of the terminology but by everyone’s reactions, this was a good thing. Or at least, it could be.
“Looks like it’s heading towards the boundary line. This might be out folks.” There’s a long pause, quiet enough for a pin to be dropped. The tennis ball begins its descent and all individuals watch as it falls, closer and closer to the white line in the green court.
“And it’s in!”
There’s an immediate roar amongst the crowd, students and teachers alike, standing up and clamming like otters. The coach throws his clipboard into the air, Yoongi’s teammate running around in circles in screams and Taehyung smiles towards the competition.
“Min Yoongi delivers the final hit! That’s game, folks! We have won the championships!”
You abandon the camera and ice pack, throwing yourself towards the boy who stands in the middle of the place, absolutely stunned by his own randomly done performance.
“You fucking did it! You bullshitted your way through a whole competition!” You giggle, throwing your arms around Yoongi and breaking him out of his trance. “You’re the master bullshitter! Oh my god!”
Yoongi laughs too, picking you up despite being of similar height, and he spins you around in circles multiple times. His arms are secure around your waist and your own hands are circling his shoulders. “I did it!”
He pulls away, staring into your eyes and with adrenaline, without much thought, he leans in and presses a quick peck to your cheek. Your own eyes grow wide, lips falling, and he seems to register it in a moment too late. The crowd continues to go wild. Confetti is popped, the vibrant colored strips of paper filling the sky.
Yoongi’s grip tightens around you and your eyes are still locked into his. But a bright light fills your senses and you hold Yoongi close. Yet, his body is still ripped away from his grasps, away from the surroundings. The molecules around loosen, falling apart, melting into fragments.
The world washes away.
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Writers notes: This was a collaboration with the awesome-sauce writer @gukyi, so please send her lots of love, praise, validation and sweet messages. Check out her masterlist and other works too! The next part of this series will be posted on her blog. Also, send me messages too, over here.
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hobidreams · a year ago
The Early Shift | Second Taste {M}
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determined to find the truth, you pay yoongi a visit at his apartment and get more than what you bargained for.
pairing: barista!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst (well, more like anger) words: 7k contains: coffee shop au, enemies to lovers, lots of banter & sarcasm, face f*cking aka oral (m), dirty talk, yoongi continues to be an ass index: first sip - second taste - last cup
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“Hmm. I think we should give Yoongi a call.” This is what Sooah suggests, fifteen minutes before the end of your shift. Her full lips are downturned as she cocks a hand beneath her chin, bats you those doe eyes.
The glorious freedom you were fantasizing about disappears in an instant. “Why?”
“Maybe he got into some trouble and needs help.”
You decide she’s much nicer than you. “Or maybe, hear me out, just maybe, he’s decided to skip work today and continue being the inconsiderate jerk he is.” You have no such patience for him, but that might be because you still remember the heat of his lips nipping at yours. Or maybe it’s because the marks he left on your thighs still remain in faint traces of dark pink.
“Hmm.” Sooah doesn’t look convinced. “Still, just in case. We have his number already. It’ll just take a minute.”
You let your nails sink into your palm. “Fine. I guess there’s a .0001% chance that something actually tragic is happening.” You make for the shop’s landline, where all the employees’ numbers are saved. You fully intend on handing Sooah the phone. But when you whirl back, she’s busy taking an order, with another customer in line behind the current. “Fine,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ll do it.” You hit the call button.
There are a few long rings, by the end of which you’re certain that voicemail will pick up. You tune out, listening instead to the bop released a few months ago that Sooah insists on playing at least three times an hour over the speakers. Your foot absently taps along to the catchy beat.
Click. There’s some fumbling, and you, only half-paying attention, wait for the robotic voice. Except what you get instead is a hurried, low-toned “yeah.”
You blink in surprise, pausing as your brain processes.
“Hello?” The voice is more annoyed now.
“It’s me.” You say your name.
A sigh. “What do you want?” Translation: why the hell are you calling me?
That tone has the magic ability to spark irritation in you like no other. You’re actually thankful for your visceral reaction to it; it squashes any unnecessary nerves that might want to flutter in your stomach. “Hmm, let me think. What do you have every Monday morning? Why might your coworker be calling you?”
There’s some more rustling, perhaps a whisper of a curse that you don’t quite catch. “Uhh... I’m sick.”
“Really. Sick.” You enunciate every thick syllable. “Why didn’t you tell Mina?”
“Too sick to.” The fake cough he manages is the worst excuse you’ve ever heard. “Can I go now?”
“Yeah, whatever.” Your thumb grinds the end call button for a few seconds longer than necessary before you set the phone back into its cradle.
Sooah hands a warmed muffin over before she turns to you. “So? How is he?”
“He says he’s ‘sick’.” You make air quotes, just as the backroom door creaks open.
“Who’s sick? Yoongi?” Namjoon, who’s scheduled to take over for you, comes out looking concerned. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s completely fine.”
Sooah frowns. “Hmm, but I don’t think he’d just not show up unless something was really going on.”
“When he’s sick, he tends to forget everything and just stay in bed.” Namjoon turns to you. “You’re off soon. Do you mind just swinging by his place with some porridge?” That’s his go-to; you know because he once did the same for you when you had an awful fever. Remembering that day reminds you that you still owe him one for it. Damn it.
You scratch absently at the back of your neck. “I guess not...” You really can’t come up with a single excuse, because you don’t have any homework to do tonight nor do you have classes. Plus, if Yoongi’s truly ill, you’re not about to let him starve to death.
“Great.” Namjoon’s dimples flash as he pulls out his phone. “His place isn’t too far. Here’s the address.”
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That’s how you wind up in front of Yoongi’s apartment door nearly an hour later, a tasty bowl of chicken porridge in hand. It’s a quaint building, small but cozy in its own way. Humble is the word that comes to mind as you take in the older, yellowed wallpaper, the slightly crooked number on his door. You shuffle your weight from foot to foot, feeling somewhat awkward. Like you’re intruding somewhere you shouldn’t be.
But you’re here to get the truth.
Some part of you hopes he’s actually sick. That, or he was just being a dick for the hell of it. Anything works, as long as the reason is not you.
You raise your hand and knock thrice. There is no sound, not even after the first minute passes. So, you knock again. One more minute, you tell yourself. If he doesn’t answer in one more minute, then I’m going to go home and eat all the porridge myself.
Finally, the door opens a crack. Bleary eyes with heavy purple bags behold you from beneath tangled, dilapidated blonde hair. Behind this disfigured creature that was once your coworker, all you can see is darkness even though it’s noon o’clock.
“Yoongi?” You ask, a little incredulously. “Are you okay?”
He frowns. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, you said you were sick, so...” You hold up the takeout container. “Namjoon made me check up on you.”
“I’m fine. You can go now.” He’s about to shut the door on you but you push your palm insistently against the wood.
“No way. You look like shit, Yoongi.” You sigh. “Look, I don’t want your death on my conscience, so at least let me heat this up for you. Namjoon’ll never let me live it down if I don’t.”
“Ugh…” He contemplates, but ultimately seems to recognize the combative fire in your eyes. “Promise to leave right after.” He turns, leaving the door open for you to follow. “I hate letting people in here,” he mutters as he walks.
“Trust me, I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to either.”
You step inside, and your nose instantly wrinkles. Everything just smells kind of stale, in need of a good airing out. Empty ramen containers litter the kitchen counter while scattered papers decorate the carpet. But what’s worse is when you behold Yoongi in all his glory – stained sweatpants, ratty t-shirt, and all.
“Is your hair allergic to brushing or something? God.” You gingerly set the bag on the table, wondering if he even has clean bowls to use. You’ll find out. Curse you and your empathy. “Go take a shower or something. Please. For your own sake.”
“You’re not my mother,” Yoongi mutters, but he seems to know you’re right. He drags his shirt off, and instead of admiring his slim physique, you cringe as he tosses the top carelessly onto the already messy couch. “Don’t mess with anything while I’m gone.”
“What, afraid I’ll fuck around and make it all cleaner?” You shoot back, but he’s already disappeared into the bathroom. “Jerk. Wouldn’t want to snoop in this place anyway.” Grumbling, you rifle through the cabinets and manage to fish out a single bowl that doesn’t look too suspicious.
Despite what you said just minutes before, while the porridge spins away in the microwave, you lean against the counter and take a good look at your surroundings. It’s a studio apartment, already tiny but made even smaller by the clothes strewn around. The bulk of the mess seems to be centered around the electronic set up shoved against a wall, consisting of two huge monitors, a lit-up keyboard, and something that you’ve only seen on TV, usually for a stereotypical depiction of a DJ. What the heck is Yoongi doing with something like that?
The roar of the shower is still going, so you take a few steps towards the desk. The screen is locked, asking for a password but you’re more fascinated by this soundboard with all its knobs and controls. Does Yoongi make... music?
Your first instinct is to think that it doesn’t fit your perception of him. But then it strikes you that your perception of him is incredibly limited. You suppose you’ve never asked about his hobbies or anything about him. You feel a little guilty now. You’ve never tried to understand him, just gotten pissed off at him time and time again.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Yoongi walks out of the bathroom, towelling off his hair. Wet droplets are still rolling down his bare chest. A second wimpy towel hangs off his hips, looking seconds away from falling. He’s already glaring. “Get away from my shit before you break something.” He walks towards his bed, lifting a pair of sweatpants off the mattress.
“Please. I’m not as clumsy as you think.” You roll your eyes as you move to fetch the congee from the microwave. You set the bowl in front of him as he finds a spoon. “You’re welcome.”
“Thanks,” Yoongi mutters as he slips a spoonful into his mouth. “For checking on me too, I guess.” The bags beneath his eyes have gotten even more obvious and gaunt after the shower, as if he hasn’t slept in days. And hasn’t eaten either, judging by the way he goes at the congee as if it’s his last meal on this planet.
“Geez, you’re gonna get indigestion like that,” you say with a wince. “Do you live like this all the time?” Is this why he’s always late?
“Kind of.” Yoongi barely stops eating to breathe. “But this week is especially busy.”“With what? You should at least get some sleep...”
Yoongi’s already almost done his food, meaning your time with him is running towards its end too. “With important things.”
“Nothing’s more important than taking care of yourself.”
“God, please stop talking. Don’t you think I know that?” Yoongi squeezes his eyes together, rubbing fatigue from the corners. “But certain things have deadlines that have to be met.”
“You can’t make deadlines from the grave. Can’t you get an extension or something? What’s it even for?”
“Contest. Song writing contest. Only runs once a year.” His spoon gives a final clatter before resting against the empty bowl. “So, no. No extensions.”
So he does make music. “You should have just started earlier instead of being late, as per usual,” you tease, hoping to lighten the sour look on his face.
Bad choice. “Don’t you think I did?” Yoongi surges to his feet. His palm slams into the counter, rattling the bowl. “You don’t understand how it feels when everything just comes out shitty and not good enough!”
You face his fury, swallow it to fuel your own irritation at how absolutely careless and ridiculous he’s being. “So, you’re just going to not sleep or eat or come to work until its done?”
“That’s the plan.”
Yoongi turns away, trying to end this conversation as he heads towards his computer. You don’t let him escape, because you’ll be damned if you work your next shift alone. “Why don’t you just wait for the contest next year?”
“Well I was going to.” He swivels his head back, “but aren’t you the one who said to fight for what you believe in?” He snaps it, exasperation in his tone. Then he instantly looks away again as if he’s said something embarrassing.
That makes you stop, your jaw slackened in half-surprise, half-amusement. “Wait… You actually listen when I talk? You’re doing all this because of what I said?
“No. Shut up. Just, ugh, get out.” You wonder if he’s turned away so you can’t see the expression on his face.
Okay, now you feel a little proud that some of your words finally made their way into Min Yoongi’s thick skull. A task you once thought impossible. But that makes you a bit responsible for his predicament, doesn’t it? Plus, you’ve never seen this (perhaps a bit overly) dedicated side of him before. It fascinates you.
“Show me something you’ve made, Yoongi. I’m sure it’s not all shitty.”
He snorts as he drops into his groaning chair. “What do you know about music?”
“Well, I listen to it. A lot.” You may not be Beethoven, but you love music and consider yourself pretty well-versed in several different genres. You’re so curious: what kind of music does Yoongi write? “Seriously! Just show me something.”
Yoongi still looks unconvinced.
“Hey, I brought you food. And covered your ass at work. So you owe me one.”
“And this is what you want to use it on.”
He shrugs. “Dumb choice, but I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you.” But he starts to click through folders. He ultimately pulls up a file named TRASH. Interesting choice, you think as you gingerly perch yourself on his messy bed. Yoongi fiddles with the volume knob on his speakers. Seconds later, the music begins to flow.
You’re already tapping your foot along by the time the tenth bar hits. You don’t know what you were expecting, but this is good! Like, actually good! Instead of vocals, a keyboard plays out the main tune. It’s sounds rather bare, but you assume that’s because it’s unfinished.
But wait… The melody sounds familiar.
Once you realize it, the more obvious it becomes. Yes, some elements have been changed: this version is much more R&B influenced, the song dips in slightly different ways, and the opening has synth elements that the finished piece you know lacks, but…
“Hey, isn’t this…?” You trail off when the chorus hits, and the similarities become undeniable. “We don’t talk together—” you sing, the lyrics going perfectly with the tune. It’s the very same song Sooah’s been playing relentlessly at work.
Yoongi is staring intensely at the screen with something so unfathomably sad in his eyes. He doesn’t speak.
“It’s different than the final version, but similar enough. You wrote this?” You whip out your phone from your pocket. “Wow, you’re amazing, Yoongi!” You hum the song beneath your breath as you pull up the song’s production page; you’ve looked at it before, but you never noticed Yoongi’s name under the credits. Why the hell is he still working at the café? Shouldn’t he be off writing the next big hit? Wasting talent, really.
On the page, three names appear. The singer, then the rapper. Then final name you don’t recognize and assume to be the producer. He doesn’t have an artist page yet, no image or real name revealed on the website. “You’re DJ ALEX?”
Yoongi shakes to life at the sound of your voice. He lunges out, almost breaks the knob as he forces the volume to zero. “No. I’m not.” The words feel strange in the sudden silence. Uncomfortable.
“...But this is the same song, isn’t it? ‘We Don’t Talk Together’?”
“It used to be.” He whirls towards you. “Look, you heard something I wrote. I ate the food. You can get out now. I have work to do.”
You don’t move from the bed, knowing you’re pissing him off by the tensing of his jaw. “What do you mean? Who’s this Alex guy then?”
“Just drop it.”
“Yoongi, what happened?” You push him despite the way his hands have curled into fists. “There’s no way this is a coincidence because—"
“Tch! You want to know so badly? Fine! He stole it from me, alright?” His piercing glare forces goosebumps on your skin. “We wrote it together. He took the original and deleted my copy and passed the song off as his own. Now he’s the one getting all the record deals while I can’t write shit and stuck making coffee with an annoying ass coworker. Happy? Good enough of an explanation for you?”
You shake your head. “You just let him take it?!”
“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” Yoongi’s voice is dangerously guttural, as if on the verge of breaking altogether. “He blocked me. Dodged me when I went to see him. Before I knew it, he was signing contracts and the song was being produced.” Yoongi sets his fists back on the table with not much strength at all, as if he’s just so exhausted of it all. “It was half a goddamn year ago. It’s too late now.”
Before you can stop yourself, you’re standing. “No, no, you can’t just let it go like this!” Not when it puts that look into his eyes. “You can fight it! You can, uhh, report him or show some proof that you wrote it together or something!” When he doesn’t respond, you step towards him, intending to put a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon Yoongi, you’re better than this!”
He knocks your hand away as he surges to his feet too. “Shut up. Just shut. Up.” He rounds on you, fury’s fire back in his eyes, worse than you’ve ever seen it since hurt is what stokes the flames to blazing. “You don’t know anything about me. You think just because we fucked once you have some insight into who I am or what I should do?”
His words hit you like bullets as you stagger back but the bed prevents you from moving too far, caging you in. “Yoongi, no, that’s not—”
“Or what? Are you gonna tell me you came here today because you missed my cock that much?”
Thoughts seem to fly clear out of your mind at the dip in his voice. Your heart thuds in your ears as Yoongi takes a step. Then another. Breaking every boundary of personal space until his lips are aside your ear. Breath curves around your lobe, coming hot, much too hot as he growls, “didn’t get enough in that pretty little pussy of yours, did you?”
“I... Uh...”
“That’s why you’re running your mouth, huh?” He captures your bottom lip, tracing it with a calloused thumb. “When you should be choking on my cock instead.” Yoongi pulls back enough for you to see how his mouth curls into that damn smirk, and you remember. God, you remember how he stole what he wanted from your body and left you stuffed full of his pleasure. But this time, there’s a desperation behind his words that was absent before. As if right now, he’s the one that needs you despite the lewdness rolling off his tongue.
So you drop to your knees.
Yoongi’s eyes widen, then narrow with deep pleasure as he thumbs your cheek with more tenderness than you would have expected. That thought is shattered when he harshly tugs your chin up, forces you to stare into the gaze that you can only find predatory. His other hand works the waistband of his sweats, tugging it down to spring his stiff cock so violently it smacks you in the face. “Open wide, baby,” he snarls, the word not sweet but condescending, the way he enunciates the syllables.
You let your mouth unhinge, but you don’t move to engulf his dick in your heat. Instead, you drag your gaze across the few beads of pre-cum are already gathered on the tip, just waiting to be slathered all over the smooth head by your fingers. He groans when you curl your hand on his shaft, bucking his hips into your touch whether he wants to or not. He can’t control himself when you pressure his frenulum, squeezing to coax another moan from him. You love that you can drive him this wild with need, put that look on his face as if he’s seeing the bright lights of heaven behind those half-closed eyelids.
But he’s not about to let you take control.
“Don’t be a fucking tease.” He shoves his hips forward, sliding himself between your parted lips and onto your awaiting tongue. You taste the saltiness of arousal leaking from his swollen cock, swiping along the head to gather every last drop of sin. He stiffens even more under your touch and the slippery texture of your agile tongue; you take it all in stride, swirling saliva around while your fingers use the excess spit to work his shaft.
“Unh, your tongue feels so damn good.” Yoongi moans like his stresses are melting away with every lick you slather across his taut skin. You trace the fat vein running along the side, carving the curves into memory. Which spots make him shiver, which ones make him moan. “Fuck, almost as good as that tight cunt of yours.” Said cunt gives a pulse of wanton need and you have to squeeze your walls around air, feeling so damn empty when you know how full you could be.
Without a single regard to your wants, he continues to urge his hips forward, mercilessly plunging in thick inches of dick until the head prods at the back of your throat. You’re trying your best to breathe through your nose but he makes that impossible when he tests your gag reflex with two brutal thrusts. Only after does he bring himself back, let you suck in much-needed oxygen before you’re bobbing your head again to his groans.
Yoongi seems torn between squeezing his eyes shut and keeping them trained on you, mired to the sight of your lips stretched and wrapped so obscenely around his cock. “How much of me can you take with that filthy mouth?” It’s a challenge he issues despite his tense, sweaty thighs and the unassailable glaze in his eyes that says he’s closer to the end than he’d like to admit.
“All of it,” you say as best you can with your mouth stuffed full. You’re not afraid of him, of any attempts he’s made to scare you off. You prove so by supressing your instincts and easing him into the slick of your throat. You push on despite the protests of your body, spurred by the painful fist in your hair that keeps you speared on him. His fine pubic hair tickles your nose, smelling like soap and his natural musk that is somehow more intoxicating than it should be. You’re so close; if you strained, you could give his crotch a sloppy French kiss.
“Then take it.”
You choke when he fucks in the last few inches, forcing his bulging cock down your throat. He pulls back only to repeat the action, earning himself a fresh gag. He seems to love that lewd squelch, imprinting it in his mind along with the tears coalescing at the corners of your eyes. Spit flies everywhere as he rocks his hips like a machine made solely for this purpose, abusing your aching mouth but even that turns you on. You don’t think you’ve never been this aroused by sucking a dick but Yoongi just has that effect on you, for better or worse.
You can barely hold onto his skinny thighs as the muscles ripple beneath your grasp in name of erratic, orgasm-seeking thrusts. They make him occasionally jerk his dick but if he grazes your teeth, he doesn’t show it. Just keeps pumping like a madman, getting himself off on how you take him so well – his good girl. Your jaw aches from his girth but you don’t dare pull away; not when he’s slamming into you like you’re the only thing in his world that matters right here, right now.
Now Yoongi’s the one choking when you lift your hand, cupping the sensitive skin of his balls. His lust-drenched eyes have flown open with surprise. Then he’s grinning, impressed with your eagerness. “Just like that—god—yeah, use your tongue, fuck…!” His moans are becoming increasingly broken, interrupted by gasps when you work your throat in tandem with fingers. “I’m gonna cum down your throat, baby,” he promises. “You better drink every fucking drop.”
You suck him harder as agreement, slurping with noisy abandon as if there’s nothing you want more than his seed coating your throat. Messy spit bubbles beside your lips but there’s no stopping you, not when his knees are buckling and he’s moaning your name in a hoarse voice that should be illegal.
“C-Cummin...!” Yoongi doesn’t even get to finish the word. Two hands on the back of your head force you all the way down. His shaft pulses and the first shot of cream hits your throat, followed by several hot strands that you automatically swallow down. He’s still gasping when he pulls back, tip profusely spilling the last remnants of bliss onto the tongue you leave exposed for his viewing pleasure. Then you gulp it down while you hold his heated stare.
With something like a growl, Yoongi yanks you up off the floor, crashing his mouth on yours to tangle your rather-numbed tongue with his own. One hand is still arrested in your hair but the other finds your waist, dragging you close to his body as he brutally sucks, bruises your bottom lip. You let yourself believe he needs to feel you, that he wants you even while his cock softens and carnal lust slips away.
“Y-Yoongi,” is the only thing you can exhale when he finally lets you go. The kisses only add to the arousal pooling between your thighs, demanding attention. But Yoongi makes no moves to take care of your need.
Instead, he wipes his lips of spit with the back of his hand. “Damn. That mouth of yours is something else.” He’s still panting, clearly having left most of his sanity on your tongue.
“I know.” You’re the one smirking now, feeling rather pleased with yourself. Looking around, you find a tissue and use it to clean yourself off. Yoongi does the same, and for a moment, it all just feels normal between you two.
“Thanks. That really cleared my head.” It only takes Yoongi a minute to get his pants back on. Then he’s planted himself in his chair again. Wait. Is that it? Your smile twists, droops into a frown as you watch him pull up the complicated software with all the soundbites back onto his screen, typing away as if inspiration has struck.
“Looks like you’re not the worst coworker after all.”
…Right. How could you have forgotten? That word sends you crashing down into reality like an icy bath. You stare at the side of his face, focused squarely on his screen as if you’re nothing more than a houseplant. Not even giving you the title of fuck buddy, or friends with benefits. But, then again, you’re not friends in the first place.
“You can stay if you want, but I have to keep working on this.” That just sounds like an afterthought, a consolation prize that’s more bitter than the taste of his cum still lingering in your mouth.
You’re already moving towards the bag you left near the door. “No thanks.” You pull the strap onto your shoulder, twisting the icy doorknob. “Bye, I guess.”
Yoongi doesn’t even look back.
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To set the record straight – you are not a coward. You are a rational adult making rational decisions that fit into your adult schedule. Begging Namjoon to switch shifts with you for the next month is just part of your regular plans, in no way influenced by the mixed, confusing, dizzying feelings that pop their heads up like groundhogs every time Yoongi crosses into your line of sight. Or your thoughts. Or really in any way whatsoever.
Okay... Maybe you’re a little bit of a coward.
But you can’t seem to help it. He’s too distracting, now that you’ve had a second taste of his poison. A poison that, instead of stealing your life, seems to have claimed your rationality as victim instead. You experienced the consequences of this robbery for the first time on Friday morning, when Yoongi showed up on time (shocker!) for his shift. Instead of being absolutely delighted, all you could think about was that he should have slept in a bit more because of the bruised bags beneath his eyes.
Friday was the first time you’d seen him at all since that visit to his apartment four days prior. Namjoon and Hoseok had taken Yoongi’s shifts throughout the rest of the week, you assumed to give Yoongi time to finish his song. You couldn’t muster up the courage to ask Yoongi about the piece; it felt like you were prying into a world that he wanted you to stay firmly out of. You still don’t understand why you’re so interested in the first place, when you should be hating him.
The rest of that shift had been a hodgepodge of awkwardness, what with the flinching every time Yoongi brushed past your arm reaching for the syrup, then the weird high-pitched tone your voice went to when he addressed you. By the time you left work on Friday, you were determined never to repeat that again.
So here you are. Today. Monday night. Except this time, you’re not spending it knelt on a musty apartment floor, swallowing Yoongi’s anger. That’s probably a good thing, you tell yourself. You need the time and the space to sort out your own emotions. To think about why the hell you keep replaying the sadness in his eyes, then corrupting that image with the coldness of his back in that chair and—
“Hellooo? Anybody home?”
A hand abruptly appears in front of your face and you jolt back to reality, whipping your gaze to find Hoseok grinning brightly at you. “There we go. I’ve been calling your name for ages.”
“Oops, sorry Hobi. I just spaced out. What did you say?”
“I said that I’m leaving soon, silly.” Hoseok leans against the counter, playful curiosity in his expression. “What’re you thinking so hard about?”
“...Nothing important.”
“Well, guess I can’t blame you. All the downtime will do that to ya. And you’re staying for the next month?”
“That’s the plan.” A customer approaches the bar, bringing you their empty plate. “Thanks, have a good night!”
Hoseok chuckles. “I thought you had night classes. Don’t tell me you dropped out of college to avoid working with Yoongi.”
The plate you were holding clatters as you drop it, smack the porcelain against the counter. “W-Why would I want to avoid working with Yoongi?” How did he know? Oh god, did Yoongi tell him what happened?
“Because he’s always late?”
“Oh! Oh. Right. Yeah. Well, no, no, it’s not because of him…” You don’t sound convincing in the slightest, yet you have no choice but to plow on. “I’m just taking an online course this term. So why not take an easier shift because I have the time, you know?” To be fair, you were planning on taking the course anyway. It was just a matter of physically going into class or not.
“Makes sense.” Hoseok grins. “And I’ll always be on time.”
“Yup. I can always count on you, Hobi.”
He stares at his watch, watching the second hand tick the seconds away. “Aaaand I’m off. You’ll have to count on me next time because I have a hot date!”
You wiggle your eyebrows. “Hope it goes well!”
Hoseok is out like a whirlwind in the matter of minutes. Left alone in the shop, you run a hand through your hair, surveying the little café. One customer taps furiously away on their laptop. Another devours what remains of their quiche. A third jots down notes while they parse through War and Peace. You’re expecting no one else tonight, certainly not Yoongi to come bursting in like he had the last time you had a night shift. You’d better get started on cleaning.
As you wipe down the counters, remove the leftover food from the display case, the customers leave one by one. You hum a song beneath your breath, distracting yourself from any errant thoughts of a certain person that might be wanting to poke their head through. You’re not having any of that. Not today.
Time speeds by, and soon you only have thirty minutes left to go. You’re now alone in the shop, working quickly enough to ensure you’ll be finished right as your shift ends and not a second more.
Then the door chime goes off. Your head snaps up, and for a moment, for an infuriating moment, you hope it’s Yoongi.
Instead, another familiar face appears, that same, smooth, self-assured smile painted across his lips. Jiwon. This time dressed in a fitted suit, one that makes him look like he just stepped out of a magazine photoshoot. Still one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. Still not Yoongi.
“Hi. Hi!” You correct yourself, realizing you should sound less disappointed. “Welcome.”
“Hi.” His easy smile widens as he approaches the counter, devastating with those melting chocolate eyes. “Wishing I was someone else?” He asks with a laugh as he pulls out his wallet.
Oops. Your face must have given you away earlier. “No! Of course not.” You force on a grin to match his, wiping your damp hands on your apron.
“Good. Because I was hoping for you. That you’d be working tonight.”
“Oh...” Your face automatically heats up. There’s no way he’s flirting with you, right? Him, who is so far out of your league you’re not even playing the same game. “I don’t normally work night shifts.”
“I noticed.”
“I. Um. Ahem.” You clear your throat out of sheer nerves. “What, uh, what can I get for you?”
“Just a black coffee this time, please.”
“Got it. Go ahead and tap.”
When you hand over the hot cup, Jiwon takes it leisurely. This time, there’s no denying how he lets his fingers graze past yours for that extra half-second, how his eyes hold yours with something unfathomable and exciting.
“I’m working every weeknight for the next month!” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, not even knowing what the hell you’re hoping for. Shooting your shot with this incredibly good-looking man. Making a fool of yourself, apparently. “So, uh, yeah.”
To your great relief, Jiwon nods his head. He raises his coffee like a toast. “Then I’ll see you soon. Goodnight.” The way his voice lilts around and teases the parting word remains in your mind through the rest of your shift and even after when you get home, still thinking about how he’d smiled at you like a promise.
Maybe forgetting Min Yoongi won’t be so hard after all.
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The weeks come and go. Before you know it, half the month has sped by, and you’re having more fun than you ever could have expected at work. You haven’t seen hide nor hair of Yoongi, working so well with Hoseok and a newly hired college kid Jungkook that you’ve barely had the time to think about him. Sure, it’s a bit odd not to have someone to bicker with every shift, but that’s more than made up for by the presence of Jiwon.
True to his word, Jiwon comes in practically every night, with that same casual smile that makes your heart unfairly quicken and flipflop. He always asks about your day, listening intently as you rattle on about what mundane thing has occurred like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Still, he hasn’t asked for your number in all this time, nor has he offered much information about himself. So, tonight, you’ve decided, after two weeks of this flirtation, you’re going to ask him on a proper date. Tonight is Friday night, one of the busier nights. So, to compensate, you’ll be closing together with Jungkook.
With that in mind, it’s no wonder that you walk though the doors of the café feeling nervous but excited. You love working with Jungkook though, and know he’ll dispel your nerves before too long with one of those wildly hilarious stories of his various exploits. The door chimes tinkle behind you as you take note that the place is rather busy. Gross. Then you sweep your eyes to the counter, expecting to see Jungkook’s bright smile.
It’s not Jungkook handing over a green tea Frappuccino, stacked high with whip cream to a young woman. It’s Yoongi.
“Yoongi?!” You exclaim, voice carrying across the café.
He turns his head, finds your surprised eyes. “That’s me.” His voice is as dry as ever, but he’s looking better than he did two weeks ago. Much better. You try to ignore the squeeze of your heart at the casual mess of his bangs, the falsely sweet smile that still lingers on his lips from interaction with the customer.
Just a coworker, you remind yourself. “What are you doing here?”
Yoongi’s gaze follows you as you move behind the counter. “Working.”
“Well, gee, I can see that. But you never work the night shift. You hate it.” He had said very vehemently so before, when you suggested he switch shifts if he couldn’t wake up in the morning.
“Yeah, well...” The floor suddenly becomes quite fascinating to him. “It’s just this once.”
Hoseok appears out of nowhere, his jacket already on. He swings his arm over Yoongi’s shoulder. “Nah, he doesn’t hate it! I heard him begging Jungkook to switch shifts with him a few days ago.”
“Hoseok, shut up,” Yoongi spits, spinning around pointedly to face the customer approaching the counter.
You giggle as Hoseok rolls his eyes quite dramatically behind Yoongi’s back. “You’re on your way out, Hobi?”
“Yup. Just you and Yoongi tonight.”
You nod, licking your dry lips. “Okay, got it. Have a good night!”
Yoongi may not be Jungkook, but that doesn’t mean that your plans have changed. You’re asking Jiwon out. You’re moving on from the unaddressed, oddly in-between relationship you and Yoongi have, and you’re hopefully going to have a date by the end of the night. You slip an apron on, determination in your veins.
Whatever downtime you usually have on Friday night (that you were worried would give you time to be pensive about Jiwon’s impending arrival) soon becomes a long-lost dream as the customers just start pouring in. It seems there’s a big event at the theatre across the street, causing an enormous boom in caffeine and snack needs that keep you and Yoongi on your toes, a fact which Yoongi looks especially irritated by. That might be because he looks like he has something to say to you every time you have a minute of break; but he can’t get out anything substantial past a ‘hey’ before he’s drowned out by another group of people.
It’s hours before the crowd finally dies down, leaving the shop sparse and you exhausted. As glad as you are for the break, it also means you have to face whatever Yoongi wants to say. You can’t fathom what he could possibly want, but it looks like he’s about to tell you as he turns in your direction.
You take a sip of your water. “Hi.”
“Uh…” You say nothing, just stare at him. Yoongi looks decidedly uncomfortable, and you’re starting to worry he’s about to drop that he has an STD or something. “I, err, just wanted to thank you.”
“For what?” Bringing you food or sucking your dick?
Yoongi sighs, raking his hair back with a hand. “I finished my song because of you.”
“Oh. Oh.” Okay… You can’t deny it; that actually makes you pretty happy. It makes you drop the frown and walls you thought you had to put up around him, replacing it with a genuine smile. “Congrats, Yoongi! When do you hear back about the results?”
“Not for a few weeks. But without you, I think I wouldn’t have entered at all this year. I just couldn’t write anything decent after…” Yoongi cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Look. Even though the song’s still not perfect and I’m still not too happy with it, it’s done. So. Thanks.”
Your heart threatens to pound at the sincerity in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “Anytime.”
Yoongi coughs, cutting off the moment prematurely. “Anyway, I’m gonna do inventory in the back.” You hate inventory, thinking it a mindless task that you would rather make a hundred lattes than do. You don’t know if Yoongi knows this, but you appreciate him all the same. You’re smiling faintly as you watch him disappear into the backroom.
Seconds later, the front door clatters, chime going off. You look up, customer-service smile already painted on, but it becomes that much wider when you find Jiwon’s friendly face grinning right back at you.
“Hey! Can’t stay long today, but had to stop by for my coffee fix. And to see my favorite barista.” He winks, way too smooth for your health.
You fight the automatic flush of your cheeks. “No problem. Iced macchiato? Skim milk and light ice?”
“Yup. You get me.”
Your hands begin to tremble as you turn to make the drink, thinking about how best to ask him those difficult words. Oh god, you’ve never been good at this, but you’ll be kicking yourself forever if you never try. Do you want to go on a date? Nope. Too direct. Are you free on Saturday? Or maybe you should go with a simple do you like pasta? But what if he doesn’t? Oh gooood.
The drink is finished all too soon. You hand it to him, watching him take a sip. “Mm, you always make the best coffee.” The compliments come too easily to him, you swear.
“Haha, I try my best!” Okay. Now or never. “Oh, um, by the way…”
The door of the backroom swings open, interrupting you. Yoongi’s voice can be clearly heard over the music. “Hey, do you know where th—” He stops. His gaze rakes across the scene, taking in your silly, flustered grin, your faintly flushed cheeks. Then his eyes fall on who you’re talking to. His jaw slackens. “...Hyung?”
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a/n: so uh,,, i’m sorry to end it like this again haha. what do you think is up? 👀 inbox is open; let’s chat! also the song i reference is “We Don’t Talk Together” by Heize and Giriboy, produced by Yoongi!
thank you to my beta readers: @sweetlyseokjin, @jiminspjm, @mypurplelamp, @hoseoksdior, @bigtiddiejoon 💞
and as always, a fat shoutout to my best girl @jeonshome for helping me brainstorm & hyping me up like always when i was struggling. don’t know what i’d do without you!! ♡
want to be on the tag list? the link is in my navi! (or send an ask!)
3K notes · View notes
ausblack · 3 years ago
Feline instinct |
Request: Badboy Tae and Shy oc enemies to lovers? Ps ur work is soooooooooo amazing
Pairing: Leopard hybrid! Taehyung x Cheetah hybrid! Reader 
Genre: Fluff, hybrid!au, Enemies to lovers!au, Roommates!au
Word Count: 6.4 k
TW: Strong language as always
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“Why are you still here?” You jumped at the sound of your coworker’s voice, turning around to face her with the sponge in your hand. It was way past your working time and nobody was supposed to be in the café since everyone had already went home apart from you. The room full of shiny tables was illuminated by the lamps on the ceiling since outside the light sun was no longer there. You looked at her with wide eyes, ears perked up in your head for the surprise. 
“God, why would you scare me like that.” You responded, hissing lightly before turning back to clean the small table in the corner of the room. She was already wearing her own clothes, meanwhile you had still on your apron. Confusion was pasted on her face as she looked down on her watch before opening her mouth to speak again.
“It’s ten past nine, shouldn’t you already be at home? Your shift ended one hour ago.” She said, moving to sit down on the table that you were currently scraping with your small sponge.
“You should be at home too, why are you here?” You asked back, sighing softly before sitting I front of her – wiping your wet hands on the white piece of cloth that you had wrapped tightly around your waist.
“I forgot my phone in the kitchen so I came back to take it.” She said and you nodded, yawning before explaining yourself.
“I’ll go home in an hour and a half.” You told her and she looked at you even more confused than before.
“But...Why? Troubles with your boyfriend?” She looked at you with her wide eyes and her own ears perked up in curiosity. Dog hybrids were the noisier types.
“What boyfriend?” You asked her confused, but she just shrugged. 
“You always have a male scent all over you so I guessed that it was your boyfriend.” She explained but you shook your head.
“My roommate will go to work at 10 pm, I don’t plan on meeting him when I come home.” You explained and she stood up, heading to the kitchen ready to prepare a coffee for you. 
You silently thanked her for that, feeling the need to put something hot in your stomach. Everyone knew that felines hated to be cold.
“So what’s the deal with your roommate? You don’t get along? She asked crossing her arms as she waited for the dark liquid to fill the small white cup.
“I don’t even know why I decided to live with him. I guess that it’s a comfortable position and the rent isn’t that expensive but he’s just…unbearable.” You took the hot cup that she had placed in the table in front of you and you smiled at her – blowing on his before touching the coffee with your lips, to see if it was too hot to drink or not.
“Is he an hybrid as well?” As those words left her mouth, you sighed.
“He’s a leopard.” You said, already knowing what she was about to say.
“I mean...What’s the problem? Aren’t you a leopard too?” You grumbled at her words, shaking your head with a pout in your face.
“I’m a cheetah.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?” She added innocently and you looked at her annoyingly, shaking your head one again.
“We’re the complete opposite. I’m fast, he’s slow. I like fish, he likes meat. I’m tidy, he’s messy. I’m quiet, he’s loud. His scent it’s so irritating you have absolutely no idea.” She furrowed her brows at your words and you gulped a large sip of coffee before responding her question.
“Why are you still his roommate if you can’t even stand him?”
“The bill isn’t affordable by myself, we’re staying together because we both work in the same area. We thought it would be easy because I work during the day and he works as a bartender during the night.” She nodded slowly as you spoke, before talking again.
“So you never see each other?”
“On the weekend but I don’t really like staying outside of my room. You know how we are. We don’t like staying with other people. He, on the other hand, is something else. Always hanging out with his friends, coming home with tons of different scents on himself. I get headaches when he does.” You said, already grumbling at the thought of him.
“Why don’t you speak to him about it?” She asked and you chuckled.
“He likes to drive me insane, that little shit.” Standing up to wash the cup after you finished your coffee, your friend followed you – continuing to talk while you wet your hands on the sink.
“I guess it’s just a feline instinct. He feels a competition between us.” You shrugged and she laughed, hugging you before speaking up. 
You knew that dog hybrids were touchy so you weren’t shocked by her sudden skinship.
“I think you two would eventually go along. Just give it a bit of time.” You smiled faintly at her before stretching your arms.
“Just go home, don’t worry about him. You’ve been working since this morning. Just go and rest.” She caressed your shoulder and you nodded – feeling like you should’ve taken her advice.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Taking off your apron you headed towards your cabinet – taking off your bag before saying goodbye to your coworker and going back home. 
You wished Taehyung wouldn’t have been at home when you arrived, but after opening the front door, the irritating scent of him came all over you – indicating that he still hadn’t left the apartment and you had to deal with him until he went out.
Throwing your bag on the couch, you lied down – closing your eyes to relax, only to be interrupted a couple of seconds later.
“You stink Y/N, go take a shower.” His low voice came to your ears and for a moment you tried to restrain yourself from yelling at him.
“I don’t stink.” You replied but he scoffed, looking at himself in the mirror.
“You smell like a dog.” At his words you opened your eyes, looking at him as he got ready to head out. You were sure that smelling like your coworker was far better than having on your body his scent. 
You weren’t going to lie; Taehyung was one of the hottest guys you had ever laid your eyes on. 
His body was built, his hair was dark and covered partly his eyes and his lips were always rosy and moisturized. A cigarette was held tightly in between them and grey clouds of smoke were coming out of his nostrils as he buttoned up his shirt.
“Stop smoking inside the house. How many times do I have to tell you that I hate that smell.” You got up, glaring at him and he chuckled – blowing a cloud of smoke towards you, causing you to cough.
“God, I can’t stand you.” You muttered before heading towards your room, locking the door behind your shoulders.     
He loved to tease you, driving you crazy by doing things that you hated – like pouring sugar on your glass of water even though you hated sweet stuff, or turning on the speaker on his phone when he listened to music, although he knew that you preferred to stay in a quieter environment. 
You couldn’t say that you didn’t reply back to his teases, since before you had ruined plenty of his shirt by accidently throwing them on the washing machine along with your red sweaters – turning them into lovely pink clothes. The one between you two was an open war that started as soon as you two started to live together. 
You weren’t sure about the reason; it could be both the difference between your personalities or the fact that you two were predators – big cats that despite the differences, were both hunters and powerful. 
Throwing yourself on the bed, you stared at the white ceiling with sleepy eyes – feeling tired and completely done after the week of work that you had just experienced. 
Your room was completely tidy and clean, differently from the rest of the house that looked like a mess thanks to the leopard who was currently getting ready for a night out. You slept on a king size bed, covered in warm blankets that you used to create a small forts every night – enjoying the warmth that you could feel in it. Every morning you also woke up with the light of the sun, that reflected a nice sunspot on your bed filtered by the window. It was truly your safe house. 
Closing your eyes and wrapping yourself around the soft blankets that surrounded your body, you let out a small purr at the comfort of your mattress before starting to doze off and eventually to fall asleep. 
However, the relaxing time didn’t continue for long and you found yourself groaning in displeasure at the sound of giggles and moans a bunch of hours later. 
You opened your eyes, watching the clock that laid untouched on your desk and a loud growl came out of your throat at the sight of the time.
It was currently 3:38 am and you had just been awakened by the sound of your roommate having sex with some random girl that he had brought home after his shift at the club where he worked. It wasn’t like he had never done that before, you were aware of the fact that Taehyung wasn’t exactly so pious – he liked to go out, drink and sleep with different girls – but you never cared much about it as long as that didn’t stand in your way. 
The high pitched cries irritated you but, you weren’t going to lie – Taehyung’s low moans were starting to turn you on the more you listened to them.
You could smell the scent of arousal mixed with Taehyung’s hormones from your bed, but you tried to shake it away from your nose before covering your head with a pillow and falling asleep again. 
The next morning your shift at work began later than the usual, so you took the time to get up slowly and prepare yourself a coffee while sitting in the couch with crossed legs and a book in your hand. It was peaceful and the silence that surrounded you was almost dream-like, causing you to think for a moment that Taehyung had left the house earlier. 
Nothing seemed to bother you, until a loud gasp attracted your attention, making you look up annoyingly from the book. The girl that had spent the night with Taehyung was currently standing in front of his room, half naked with a shocked expression stamped on her face. She had two dark ears on her head and a black tail that moved quickly behind her legs. You guessed that she was some kind of wolf hybrid, considering her strong – but not stronger than yours – scent. 
“Who the fuck are you?” She snapped at you and you raised your eyebrow at her audacity, without replying back. Taehyung was already hurrying out from his bed to get her, so you let him do all the work without bothering. 
Taking a sip of your coffee you looked at the girl that was still waiting for an answer as Taehyung grabbed her shoulders, looking at you with apologetic eyes and messy hair. He wasn’t wearing anything apart from his sweatpants, but you tried to divert your eyes – not looking at his shirtless body. 
“Baby I think you should go.” His low, morning voice spoke up but the dark haired wolf hybrid was still glaring at you without moving or changing her stance. 
“You never told me that you had a girlfriend! I thought you brought me here because you liked me!” She said, screaming in a high pitched voice that made you furrow your brows in annoyance. Taehyung was trying to deal the situation with politeness, but you could tell that he was annoyed too. Maybe this wasn’t worth a good fuck.
“She’s-“ He tried to talk, pulling her back inside his room to get her in another place far from you  – scenting your annoyance with his great sense of smell.
“I don’t care who she is! You told me so many nice things yesterday and now I’m finding out that you have some bitch living in your house.” She was livid as she screamed but as soon as the word bitch left her mouth Tahyung stepped out, furrowing his brows at her. 
“Hey, watch your mouth.” You smirked as those words came to your ears, setting down the cup of coffee in front of you before standing up – looking at the two in front of you seriously. 
The girl stepped back at your movement, hitting Taehyung’s chest, and the boy stared at you without saying anything. 
A low growl came out of your throat and you could hear a small whine coming out of her. 
Walking towards her, you stopped when she was standing in front of you and with a small smile you opened your mouth – letting her hear your voice for the first time. 
“Listen up wolfie. You have exactly five seconds to go out of my apartment before I get pissed off.” She tried to put on a brave face by scoffing, not managing to hide the scent of fear that her body emanated. 
“O-Or what? Tae brought me here, who are you to tell me to go away?” She said and you looked up at Taehyung, meeting his dark eyes with your before facing the girl once again – snarling at her. 
“I’m his girlfriend so get the fuck out of my house before I show you what a cheetah can do to a wolf.” You growled and this time, her whine came loudly to your ears as she walked back to Taehyung’s room to pick her things up before going out of your apartment with her tail between her legs. 
As this scene happened, Taehyung stared you down – shocked to see this side of you and smirking to himself as the word boyfriend went out of your mouth.
That was hot.
As soon as the door closed shut, a warm chuckle made you roll your eyes and turn around, to pick up your book and your empty cup before heading towards the kitchen.
“Boyfriend uh?” He teased, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen as you washed the cup without looking at him in the eyes. 
“Just thank me and shut the hell up.” You muttered, making him chuckle again. 
“I mean…I could handle her pretty well but I’m glad that a feisty cat felt the need to take care of it.” You scoffed at his teasing with a small blushed on your cheeks before turning around and heading towards your room – hurried to go and start your shift at work. 
“Go take a shower, you smell like a dog.” You looked at him, sniffing slightly the air and making him laugh before closing the door of your room – blushing even further as his words came to your ears from the other side of the door. 
“Whatever you desire, girlfriend.”
“So then he called me girlfriend...Do you believe that?” You muttered angrily as you scraped the dirt off the table – finding yourself in the same situation of the day before, with your coworker sitting on the table next to you as she listened to your tantrum. You had just experienced the worst day of work in your whole life so, the anger wasn’t easy to dissolve.
“I think he likes you a bit.” She said, eyeing you with a small smirk as she leaned against the wall with crossed legs. A couple of clients were still sitting on their table, but the shift was about to end so you felt free to talk a bit with your friend as they waited for whatever they’ve ordered.
“Bullshit. He doesn’t let me even breathe, he loves to make me feel bad.” You answered, looking at her with a soft sigh before taking off your apron and throwing it on the counter.
“Plus, he’s a le-“
“Keep the hybrid shit out of it Y/N, my friend is a wolf and he’s dating a bunny hybrid. As love is in the air who cares about the law of the jungle.” You chuckled at her words and you sat down in front of her, looing at her puppy-like expression.
“Honestly, I don’t hate h-“
“Hey, Kitty!” Your words had been cut off by a loud, low voice behind you and you jumped in your seat by the sudden noise.
Turning around, you faced the costumer in his table where he was sitting with his friends – a cocky expression stamped in his face. Giggles were coming out of his friends as they looked at you, watching the situation as if it was some kind of show.
“Could you bring us a glass of water, pretty please?” He asked and you nodded, looking confused at your coworker before getting up and filling a cup for the man that had asked for it.
They weren’t hybrids and that’s was a huge red flag for you, because humans thought of your workplace with hybrid employees as some kind of fucked up maid café – as if they had the freedom to treat you like you were at their all disposal.
As you laid down the glass of water in front of the boys, you froze at the filling of a hand wrapping around your tail – jerking it quickly and causing you to yelp loudly at the sudden pain.
“The group of boys started to laugh as you jumped back with stoop up ears and flushed face from the anger that they were causing.
A loud growl came out of your throat and their laugh only came out louder, until a hand touched your shoulder, caressing it slowly.
“Hey, don’t worry about it okay? Just go home I’ll deal with them until the end of my shift. Yours ended anyways.” You smiled faintly at your coworker before nodding and taking your bag before heading outside.
Outside the sky was dark and the air chilly - but that wasn't the reason why you were currently shaking with crossed arms and red cheeks: the stress had been too much to handle, and just the thought of coming home and dealing with your Taehyung for the whole weekend was making you sick. You just needed to relax a bit, but that's exactly what you wouldn't get at home.
While you walked home, you tried to erase those thoughts from your head, trying to think about what you could do to avoid complications that weekend, but when you arrived home, you realized that probably none of those options would have worked with Taehyung.
A loud sigh escaped from your lips as you unlocked the door and got in.
You immediately felt his scent, and as you walked to the kitchen to get something to eat, it got stronger.
You threw your bag on the couch, before opening the fridge and taking out your dinner.
"Look who's here, my favorite girlfriend" Taehyung’s voice sounded out - mocking you. His eyes were fixed on the screen of the laptop on the kitchen table.
You breathed, trying to calm down: you didn't reply, hoping that he would get the hint.
You weren't in the mood.
As you waited for your dinner to heat up in the microwave, you walked to your room and changed, putting on your pajama and tying up your hair in a bun. That's when a strong smell of burnt hit your nostrils.
You ran to the kitchen and opened the microwave only to see your burnt food.
"Oh fuck off, that's the only fucking thing I didn't need today" you whispered, and you let the swear words flow off your tongue throwing your dinner in the bin.
Taehyung watched you, and if at first he was amused by the situation, he was getting more and more concerned as he saw you slumping on a chair, your face in your hands. Sniffing lightly the air, he sensed a male scent on you and that’s when he furrowed his brows. It wasn’t the scent of an animal, but the scent of a human.
At first he didn't know what to do. Should he help you? Should he let it go?
You two weren't exactly on good terms but he didn't want you to be in such a bad mood to almost breaking down in front of him.
"What's wrong? " he said quietly as the pushed the laptop out of the way, trying to see if you were crying, but when you got up there weren't tears in your eyes. Still, he could feel the tension and stress.
"I'm so fucking stressed, work's getting more and more tough and I can't seem to get a second of peace even at home. " you said while walking back and forth in the kitchen, your hand running through your hair.
Taehyung felt a bit of guilt piercing him, but he knew what you needed, and it was the same thing he wanted.
"You know what? There's one thing to do when you’re stressed. I had pnas tonight but I guess that doing it here and doing it outside doesn’t really make much of a difference.” he said getting up of his seat with a smirk stamped on his face.
You watched him suspiciously as he brought the laptop out of the room.
"I'm not fucking you, Taehyung. Get it out of your mind" you said annoyed as he came back with hands hidden behind his back, holding your head up with your hand.
A loud laugh escaped from his lips as he responded "I was talking about drinking, Y/N, but in case you want to do other stuff I won't complain " he said winking at you, letting you see amount of beer cans that he had bought.
"I'll stick with drinking, but thank you baby." you said with an obvious exaggerated sweet tone.
You sat down on the couch, Taehyung followed and sat next to you as you opened your first can – closing your eyes and letting every thought out of your mind.
You were at your third beer when things around started to feel clouded.
Your head was spinning a bit, words came out confused out of your mouth, but you couldn't care less.
Taehyung hadn't touched his can, and was telling you about the craziest encounters he had during his nights out. Your tipsy state made everything around you seem hilarious and you were laughing like crazy as he spoke.
"I swear to god I haven't laughed this much in ages" you said stammering between giggles as you looked at your roommate.
He felt a smile come on his face just by looking at you – he had never heard the sound of your laugh and it was almost addicting.
"At least you're crying from laughter, aren't you?" he said looking at you with a small smile.
After a couple of hours passed drinking beers, Taehyung brought in the living room some other bottles of alcohol that you didn’t bother to read – drinking the transparent liquid despite not knowing what it was.
You tried to pour it in a cup but you completely missed it, spilling it on the table.  
"Jeez you really can't handle alcohol. " he laughed at you, wiping the liquid off with a cloth as you giggled drunkenly while looking at him.  
You seemed free,  completely empty-minded and happy as you smiled at his words.
"I-It's not true, I can handle it better than you, fucker" you mumbled, and he couldn't help but shake his head "Whatever you say, Y/N”  
"Then start drinking and we'll see how much you'll last" you said while pushing a shot in his hands. The boy took it while looking at you and swallowed it in the blink of an eye.
You two kept on drinking whatever Taehyung has put on the table, and your words were becoming more and more confused as time passed.
You kept on laughing at whatever the other was saying, and for a second you forgot that he was the same boy you hated not even an hour earlier. Alcohol made you less boring and way clingier than how you usually were, so as you head leaned onto Taehyung’s shoulder, the boy couldn’t help but smile with a small shake of his head.
"You know, you don't even seem that bad when you're not growling at me" he said with a smile on his lips, and you couldn't help but to admit he looked adorable with his glossy big eyes.
"You're not that bad yourself when you don't try to make my life feel like hell" you answered with a small yawn, but for a second Taehyung really thought he had hurt you with his behavior.
You sensed the change of his mood by the smell of his scent, so keeping your eyes closed you you added.
"It’s not that bad. I mean it can get really funny and absurd when your hot roommate is a cheeky mess."
You weren't thinking about what you were saying, you just mumbled those words loud enough for him to hear them and he looked at you with wide eyes. He knew that you were completely drunk but his heart started beating faster nevethless.
"So...You don't hate your hot roommate?" he said shamelessly while grinning.
"No Taetae. I don't hate you." you said feeling extremely tired by the amount of drinks that you had ingested, and he let out a soft laugh "I think the main reason why I didn't grow fond of you is because we're totally opposites. And people with opposites behaviors and habits tend to not get along." You added but he was quick to respond.
"But opposites attract, don't they? " he said while looking at you with the softest eyes and a genuine smile on his rosy lips.
Opening your eyes you looked at him, finding his gaze already on you and you stayed still for a moment. He started feeling something in his chest as you stared at each other and both seemed to drown in each other.
The contact broke when something came to his mind, and quietly he asked.
"Why did you have a male scent on you?" The question came out as a whisper and you tensed at the memory of the early shift at work.
Taehyung felt it, and added "Is it why you feel so tense?" His hand was brushing yours on the couch as you finally spoke, feeling safe in his presence.
"Yeah...earlier at work some people didn't seem to understand the fact that harassing hybrids is not okay". As soon as you let that out his hold tightened and his lips twitched a bit, before curling back in a small smile.
''You don't have to worry. You're a cheetah, one of the most beautiful and powerful species of predators. You have the ability to defend yourself, you just have to learn to make people respect you. You don't deserve to be treated like that". You blushed at his sweet tone, and at the words he used to describe you. Beautiful.
You smiled back at him and without noticing you let out a quiet yawn, your hand still on his.
"We should probably go to's almost 2 a.m. " he said while looking at the clock on the wall behind you.
You nodded and tried to get up, but your legs apparently didn't want to cooperate, so you ended up slipping on the ground.
A loud laugh escaped both your mouths, and it didn't seem to stop as you both kept on laughing at your drunken state.
He helped you get up and suddenly you felt him picking you up, an arm around your waist and one one under your legs.
He chuckled as you let out a yelp and he said "Jeez you're wasted. You can't even walk".
You kept om giggling as he tried to get you to your room without collapsing.
The warmth of his body was something new, and suddenly his scent felt much more comfortable and good, almost intoxicating.
You leaned in his chest and inhaled his scent, and he couldn't help but smirk as he noticed.
He laid you down on your bed covering you up with your blanket.
"Sweet dreams, baby. And if those bad guys try to bother you again, they'll have to deal with a leopard.".
You laughed at those words, that in your head sounded more like a joke,
“Sure Tae, goodnight.” You replied with a chuckle before closing your eyes and instantly falling asleep.
But he wasn't joking. From now on he would have protected you. He didn't know how, or why, but something snapped in him that night. Something that felt so good to him.
Hetook your hand in his, brushing your knuckles with his thumb, and left your room with a soft smile, after inhaling your sweet scent before closing the door.
Ever after that night spent with Taehyung, the relationship between you two changed completely.
Every day you woke up with a cup of coffee with no sugar inside already prepared on the kitchen table. The fridge was always stocked with fish and you tried to buy more meat for him, so that you two could eat both without having to insult each other’s favourite food. The heater inside the apartment was turned on more and you noticed that Taehyung would change it every time he saw you shivering while walking around the house. Living with him was starting to feel more like luck than misfortune.
That morning you woke up with the alarm of your phone, ready to have breakfast and head to work – where your friend was probably waiting to hear how things were going between you and Taehyung.
“Good morning.” You muttered with a small yawn as you noticed Taehyung’s presence on the couch.
“Morning.” He said in response while looking up from his phone.
“Why’re you up so early? You came home late yesterday.” You asked drinking your daily cup of coffee.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugged and you nodded, thinking about the changes that he had made after you got drunk. You remembered clearly what had happened but you hadn’t talked about how you had called him hot, or how you had confessed that you didn’t hate him, not even one bit.
“I’m going” you said as he got up from the couch – walking towards the window where he lighted up a cigarette before blowing the smoke outside. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and he looked like a god as he brushed his long hair back – keeping in mind that you hated the smell of smoke.
You stood there, looking at him in awe until he noticed that you were watching him – giving you a questioning look.
You shook your head before saying bye and you headed outside as soon as you could, feeling heat coming to your cheeks.
The more he cared about you, the more you fell for him.
“So, you’re basically in love.” You punched lightly the arm of your now almost best friend as you confessed what had happened in the morning – cheeks still red from the embarrassment
When you had told her what had happened during the weekend, she couldn’t help but smile – already sensing some feelings coming from you towards him.
“I’m sure that you two will end up together.” You shook your head at her, taking the beverages from a table while cleaning up. She was standing at the counter of the café, talking to you as you brought the dishes in the kitchen while your costumers ate happily the food and drank the beverages that you served.
“Shut up. He’s just kind because I basically told him that he made my life seem like hell.” You explained ad she laughed, before looking behind you.
“Do you like him?” She asked without looking at you and you hesitated, before sighing.
“I mean, I think so? I wasn’t feeling like this before but now I think that I kinda do.” You confessed and she smiled, picking up the menu from the counter – giving it to you.
“Well, might as well just tell him now because he’s sitting over there and he’s looking at you.” You froze at her words, widening your eyes before turning around – encountering the gaze of the leopard that was smiling happily at you.
You smiled back, walking towards him – speaking up as soon as you got closer.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, placing the menu in front of him and he just smiled, taking something off his pocket.
“You forgot your phone at home and I decided that I wanted to have breakfast here.” You laughed at his words, taking it from his hands with a thankful look and he looked down on the menu.
“I’ll get your order in a bit okay?” He nodded and you smiled at him before turning around – facing your smirking friend once again.
You ignored her look as you went inside the kitchen to pick up the order of one of the costumers before heading back outside.
“What did he want?” She asked and you showed her your phone without talking, watching as her smirk became bigger on her face.
“So cute.” You rolled your eyes at her and she laughed.
“Shut up.” The ring of the door attracted your attention and as you turned around, your ears perked up – body freezing on the spot.
“Fuck.” Your friend cussed as the boys from the other day came inside the café, one of them smirking at you as he walked closer.
Taehyung sensed the tension from you and as soon as the smell came to his nose, his head perked up – eyes narrowed as he looked around to see what was happening.
“We came back to see my kitty.” He said as he walked closer to the counter where you were placed, moving an arm around your shoulder.
As soon as his skin touched your shoulder, a loud growl resounded around the whole café and you didn’t have to look up to notice who had made it.
You growled as well, moving away from his touch and behind you Taehyung was starting to get up from his table – walking towards you.
Smelling the anger coming from Taehyung’s body, you moved in front of him to stop him from doing anything that could put either you or him in trouble.
“What’s going on? Cat got your tongue?” He teased you as you stayed silent before noticing the broad Leopard hybrid that was standing behind you. He widened his eyes a bit at first – feeling intimidated by his dark gaze and his serious stance, but he tried to hide his feelings.
He probably forgot that hybrid could sense them even if he tried to hide them.
“Who are you?” He asked – his friends watching from the side without talking.
“I’m here fucking boyfriend so you better step away from my girl before I snap you in half.” He said roughly as another growl came out of his mouth and you grabbed his wrist, squeezing it a bit to calm him down.
You friend smiled widely despite the situation but you stayed serious, standing between the two man.
“Dude calm down, she’s just a waitress. It’s all jokes.” You shook your head in disbelief and Taehung brought a hand to your waist – squeezing your skin lightly and breathing heavily to calm himself down.
“You should get out, we don’t stand people who harass our workers here.” Your friend spoke up and the man puffed, ready to talk back when Taehyung snarled at him – causing him to jump back.
“Okay chill, I’m going.” He put his hands up while stepping back before heading outside, followed by his friends.
As soon as the door closed behind the, you let out a huge sigh – relaxing your body and turning around to face Taehyung.
You looked at him in the eyes and he brought his hands around your waist, pulling you against him. You hugged him back, heart beating faster at the touch of his nose on your neck and he smelled your scent deeply before kissing lightly your skin, causing chills to roll down your spine.
“You should go back to your table.” You whispered smiling and he did the same, a grin creating on his face.
“You still haven’t eaten and I think that we already lost too much time…” He nodded as those words came out your mouth before walking back to the table, grinning stupidly without looking away from you. You kneeled down next to him, ready to write down whatever he said and you tried not to blush at the feeling of his face close to yours.
“Did you decide what you want?” You asked with a small giggle trying to ignore the tension and he smiled before nodding.
You felt his hands cup your cheeks and you felt your heart beat faster at his actions. His eyes were stuck on your lips his teeth were biting down on his own as he breathed.
He leaned in, his forehead against your own with shaking breaths.
“You.” His voice wavers, exhilarated from the tension between you as he leaned in brushed your warm lips with his own. You kissed him back, feeling you heart skip a bit and you two pull apart only to take shaky and shallow breaths. You felt the eager as he bit down on you lip while pushing you further against him dropping the notebook on the floor and he held you close to him – hands steady on your neck. You brought your hands in his hair, caressing his ear as a low purr came out of his throat.
It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. You felt his feelings through it and his hands moved, resting below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breaths mingles. 
“Do you want to go on a date?” He asked as he pulled back, breath still heavy and dreamy eyes.
You chuckled at him, smiling widely at him before speaking up.
2K notes · View notes
smaubts · 11 months ago
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thinking of you
part thirty one. god I'm in lovE | end
a.n. thank you for reading ily 🥺 btw these are time skips
tag list: @aizuwusho @euphxriajoon @pppeaches-world @jialithakkar @tricethecharm @hecticwonderer @aurumignis @unadulteratedlyunique @kelitt @queenofnotdoinganything @the-voids-going-to-get-us @baebyjoonie @neilpoetssociety @adventuresinwonderlust @whitefoxgirl @keiji-verse @loveyoongles @secretromanticsblog @whocaresarchives @daisieluvsthetannies @t-toodumbtocare @bonkyandloki @tae165 @loveyoongles @taeshuworld @angelic-boca @mooniesyubi @liitlefaiiery @wild-starfish @leovaldezisfire @lynniac @bella-victoria002 @sugarrimajins @moonpallete @mayumioutloud @booya--18 @meisueyshaoo @littlebabysandboxburritos @fuddyize @bigdickdaddysatan @flantasticpr @marvel-snowbaz @awkwardwookie @murderyoursoul @babymuff @littleindigoblues @p-polaroid @jungshookmeup @amoreguk @mipetronella
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ggukkiereads · 5 months ago
hi, can u please recommend fics for e2l OR comfort fics (or both cuz i’m neeeedy lol) for yoongi? i can’t seem to find many good ones :( thanks in advance!
🌷 Hi Anon, there are actually a lot of great ones! I can’t go through my other reference-slash-third side blog because I’m pressed for time, so it’s going to be a quick list. Off the top of my head: 
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Enemies to Lovers | Yoongi
The Truth Between Us @gukyi @jimlingss
man, where do I start?!?! This is part of my #holygrailfics for a lot of reasons. It's a multi-verse. They go through different AUs from coffee shop to sports, to hogwarts, to mafia, to hanahaki, to android, etc. It has everything you need in an AU.  It’s a seven-chapter series so it’s a long but great read. By the time you’re done, you'll wish you could stay in this universe longer because isn’t it sad when a masterpiece fic ends? 😥
Early Shift @hobidreams
co-workers, coffee shop, yoongi always late except for one time 😉. Ah, I love this a lot. Starts with hate sex and ends with 🥰. I enjoyed this journey of theirs (please read author's ongoing yoongi drabble series too)
You Among the Others @inkofyoongi (ongoing)
e2l, tutor, ex-taehyung. This is ongoing which I read every time there is an update. Author has other great yoongi fics too! My go-to author for my yoongi needs 😍.
The Heart Holiday @vanaera (ongoing)
office au, manager yoongi, fake dating au, concept of having a Heart Holiday Leave so they have to "fake date" to get the benefits. This hasn’t been updated yet but my policy with ongoing fics is to read it now and not have a hard time catching up later on 😉
Settle Down @floralseokjin
temporary roommate au; this is one of the first fics I’ve read in this fic land so this holds a special place in my heart 🥰
Vogue @gukyi
fashion designer au. I just raved about it few days ago, anon! How could you say there aren’t any good E2L yoongi fics 😭.
Straight Shooter @snackhobi
This too! I oohed and aahed over this that it took time for me to recover from this Cyberpunk-Hitman! yoongi.
Hwasan @jeonggukkiepabo
Yoongi being the only dragon hybrid left (he rides a motorbike 😎) and YN part of the “enemy” group. . 
Other Fics that I’m listing quickly so apologies if titles didn’t link right:
Lover's Paradox @taesthetes - police au, comedy (read on mobile app)
Stages @/gukyi - neighbors to locker buddies to college classmates, bad boy yoongi
An Out of Bounds Umbrella @bubmyg - college au, basketball player, a bit e2L
Out of this World: Mercury @ddaengyoonmin - Sci-Fi
Get Jinxed @kimtaehyung - cyberpunk au, ex lovers, ex officer
Happy Halloween @whatifyoulivelikethat - bickering e2l
Thinking of You @smaubts - SMAU (social media AU)
Hell on Wheels @peekaboongi - childhood friends au, partner presentation
Sheltered Hearts @yeoldontknow - Vet Clinic AU 🥰🐶
Pour Some Sugar on Me @yoonia - baker au, this is newly released! #readwithme ✨
For comfort fics, this was ficswithluv’s category a week ago. You can check if there are yoongi comfort fics here
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Please note that the fics are NOT mine. Please show these authors love by reblogging their fics, giving them feedback, and engaging in any positive interaction you can think of! 🥰
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Additional note: I listed down a few E2L fics in my readings lists. Just click per month and search “enemies to lovers” or “E2L”. I try to put all the AUs/Genres per fic so it should be easy to find what you need. You can also search my fic rec blog (ggukkiereads) with “yoongi enemies to lovers” and it’ll usually show you reblogs that has E2L content. Maybe not all posts will appear (because tumblr isn't as smart as google lol), but it’ll give you enough fics to work with 😉
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ot7always · a year ago
Yes, Sir
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Word Count: 4.1k
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Enemies to Lovers AU, smut, fluff
Warnings: dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, sir kink, degradation, choking, hair pulling, spanking (hand and belt), dirty talk, unprotected sex, overstimulation, spit kink, squirting, aftercare
Rating: 18+
Summary:  After being promoted to head of another department, you thought your days of needing to deal with Yoongi were over. As it turns out, you were wrong. He still loves to hold his experience over your head, despite no longer being your boss. Let’s just say, after all the times he’s had your blood pressure through the roof, you really did not expect to end up back under him.
A/N: This fic was commissioned by the lovely @meowxyoong for @ficswithluv’s ChangesWithLuv project to raise money for the Black Lives Matter movement, as well as other movements supporting the Black community. Please check it out if you haven’t already! I hope it lives up to your expectations!
Lastly, huge thank you to @wwilloww who beta-read this for me yesterday and gave me tons of useful feedback!! Also tagging @dee-ehn so we can thirst together.
Yoongi, head of Marketing. You, head of Sales.
It’s almost like Romeo and Juliet.
Fitting, because you really wanted nothing more than to throttle him.
That’s how the story goes, right?
Min Yoongi had to be the devil incarnate. There was no other explanation for the emotional turmoil he put you through each day. While he’d never been outright mean to you, the perceptive asshole knew exactly what to say to push your buttons, despite having no recollection of ever deserving such a thing. It was torture.
You’d worked closely with him for three years before getting promoted, moving from Marketing to Sales. At first, you enjoyed his presence. He mentored you kindly yet sternly, and who wouldn’t want to be mentored by someone who looked like that? But you should have known it was too good to be true. It only took months before he became a constant thorn in your side.
Summoned into his office towards the end of the workday, you shut the door behind you as you moved to stand in front of his desk, hands clasped at your front. You eyed your boss, glasses perched on his nose as he flipped through the analysis you’d submitted that morning. You’d worked hard on it for weeks, determined to set yourself apart from your peers. You were confident that it showed in the completed product.
“Sir?” you called out to him after he failed to raise his eyes from the sheets.
“A little long, don’t you think?” he drawled without looking up. You couldn’t tell whether he was unhappy with that fact.
“I was just trying to be thorough, sir…” your voice trailed off, suddenly insecure about the very thing you were so confident about only hours ago.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were trying to impress me,” he smirked, dark eyes finally meeting your gaze. You balked at the statement, unsure if your blood was boiling out of embarrassment or vexation.
“Just doing my job, sir,” you stated, voice clipped. Why were you here? Just so he could tease you? If you weren’t trying to keep a favourable relationship with the higher-ups you would question him about his professionalism.
He continued staring at you for what felt like a lifetime. You shifted on your feet, face hot but determined not to be the first to look away.
Finally ending this strange pseudo-staredown, Yoongi flipped your report shut and placed it in the corner of his desk. The prolonged silence had you feeling a bit dazed.
“It’s good. Thank you. You can go,” he declared abruptly, spinning around on his chair, effectively cutting short any response you may have had.
Brows furrowing in indignation, you spun around on your heel and made your way out of his office, forgoing any attempt to shut the door quietly.
Sitting at your desk after a long day of meetings, you yearned for nothing more than a long, hot shower. Things at work had been crazy lately, the company organizing a large collaborative ad campaign that had you working extra hours everyday. It was extra exhausting considering you always had to sit through senior staff meetings with Yoongi, who loved to ask you questions he already had the answers to as if to trip you up.
Quickly organizing your desk before you planned to leave for the night, loose sheets scattering around had you sighing lightly to yourself. Stapler, stapler, stapler…
No stapler.
Are you serious? You swore you literally saw it on your desk this morning –
Yoongi. That bastard always loved to take your stuff, seemingly enjoying the chase of having you hunt him down and demand he return it to you. Well, you really weren’t in the mood for that today. You’d already been in the office for 10 hours, and you really just wanted to go home. Mouth set in a firm line, you set out to march your way straight into his office, only down the hall from your own.
Bursting into the room, you were startled to see him still sitting at his desk, typing away at something furiously despite your interruption.
“Yes?” he inquired, amusement lacing his tone as he raised a brow at you. He pissed you off, but did he have to look so good doing it?
“You know what I want,” you said bitterly, eyes lighting with barely-concealed anger as you spotted your stapler on his desk. Quickly stepping up to grab it, you were taken aback when his hand reached out to halt your motion, fingers gripping around your wrist.
“Excuse me,” you huffed, appalled at his actions. Sure, he loved to tease you, but he didn’t usually opt to touch you like this. Reaching forward to snatch it with your other hand, your fury grew exponentially as he grasped your other wrist too.
“What do you think you’re doing?” you snapped, irritation crystal clear in your voice. Glancing up to meet his gaze, what you saw there was dark, staring into you with unparalleled intensity. That look accompanied by the fact that your wrists were still in his grasp had your breath quickening slightly, butterflies churning in your stomach. You tried to pull away, but he must be stronger than he looks because you couldn’t move an inch.
“Sweetheart,” he pouted, but the hardness in his gaze made it evident that it was definitely for show. “I miss the days when you treated me with a lot more respect.”
Confusion washed over you then. Since when did you not treat him with respect? Sure, you could be a bit brusque, but you couldn’t recall any time where you spoke to him any worse than he spoke to you. Frowning, you opened your mouth to question his statement, but he continued before you could speak.
“’Yes sir,’ ‘no sir,’ ‘yes please.’ You were so adorable back then,” he reminisced, head tipping back to look at the ceiling. “I think about it a lot.” He returned his vision to your face, reading you as he begun stroking the soft skin of your wrists with his thumbs. “You were such a good girl for me before,” he murmured lowly, eyes full of hunger.
Your eyes widened in shock. Surely you misheard. He couldn’t be stood here telling you he fantasized about you, right? …Right? Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your throat. You couldn’t deny that you’d done the same once or twice… or more… but that was just your horny brain talking. Not your rational one.
“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” he implored, an ounce of insecurity somewhere deep in his voice. You didn’t know what to say. How were you meant to process something like this? This is definitely not how you planned for this encounter to go, and you simply stared at him, disbelief colouring your features. You dropped your gaze to his hands still clasped onto you. Yes, you wanted him, but how would this affect your professional relationship? How could you sit through meetings next to him if all you could think about was him inside you?
Taking your silence as answer, he dropped your hands and backed away as if he had been burned. “Sorry, I thought – I just,” he stuttered out, nervousness and shame evident despite his previous actions. “Sorry, I don’t know what possessed me-”
“Yes,” you blurted out, unthinking, bending forward over his desk to grip at his hands. Curse your horny brain. “I do want it,” you pleaded, searching his eyes for the desire that was present only moments ago. As if a switch was flipped, his expression became ice cold. Yanking you forward by your arms, you gave a surprised yelp as he pulled you as close to him as possible, your hipbones digging painfully into the edge of his desk.
“What was that?” he growled, the animalistic sound sending a wave of arousal through you. You gritted your teeth, determined not to give into him so easily. Not a patient man today, Yoongi’s right hand whipped out to place itself at your neck. At its presence you let out a low moan, leaning your head back to bare your throat to him.
“Thought about this, have you?” he chuckled darkly, thumb stroking up your jaw. You shuddered at the touch, teeth biting into your bottom lip in anticipation.
“I may have,” you mumbled, desire replacing any shame you might have felt at admitting your fantasies. At your words, the grip at either side of your throat tightened, squeezing just enough that you struggled to take in air. The brutal action sent a new rush of wetness to your panties, but you continued to hold his stare.
“You know what I want,” he taunted, mockingly using the exact words you’d so assuredly said to him earlier. His hand tightened its hold slightly, your eyes fluttering shut as you attempted to hold back a moan at the situation you’d gotten yourself into. You could not, however, say you weren’t enjoying it. Realizing there was no way he would let up on you, a minute later you finally relented, desperate for his touch elsewhere.
“I want it, sir,” you gasped out, struggling to catch yourself on the desk as he suddenly released you. Bent almost 90-degrees over his desk, you worked to catch your breath, papers and other supplies digging into your chest. Glancing up, you found Yoongi smirking down at you, hands in his pockets as his eyes swept over the sight of you prone across his workspace.
“Stay just like that, princess,” he uttered lowly, your walls clenching around nothing at the name. He circled around to the other side of the desk until he was no longer visible, standing somewhere behind you. About to stand up so that you could see him properly, your breath huffed out of you in surprise when a hand harshly shoved your chest back into his desk. Your struggle against his strength was fruitless.
He used his other hand to yank your skirt up over your ass, exposing the lacy tops of your stockings and your black thong. Part of you was grateful at the dark colour, hoping the arousal already pooled there wasn’t visible to him behind you. He groaned at the sight.
“You mean to tell me you come to work dressed like this and don’t expect to be fucked like a filthy whore?” he jeered, hand tracing over the curve of your ass. You shivered at the touch, pushing back into it ever-so-slightly. The unexpected harsh sting of that same hand delivering a cruel blow to your left asscheek had you quivering.
“Such a bad girl,” he tutted, rubbing at where he had hit you before delivering an even harder smack to your other asscheek. The sensation burned, but the fire of your heat only grew with each passing moment. Hitting you again and again, your mind became unable to focus on anything besides his actions, moaning out as his next hit was dealt closer to your thigh, the ache heavy but so, so good.
“Say it,” he ordered, tone leaving no room for argument. Though, it felt as though with every blow your ability to argue left you, slowly but surely. Seems like your rational brain left for the night, you thought. Obviously unhappy that your focus was no longer on him, his ruthless hand made contact with your cunt  instead, tears springing to your eyes.
“I won’t ask you again,” he cautioned, and it was at that point you decided to throw your pride away. As you’d already said, you wanted this, and like hell if you were going to ruin it now.
“I’m a bad girl, sir,” you whispered, but thankfully it seemed that was enough to appease him.
“And bad girls get punished, don’t they?”
“Yes, sir,” you breathed out, face hot. Despite your embarrassment, you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on. Your panties were pulled down to your thighs, and you resisted the urge to try to hide.
At the sight of your folds glistening with arousal, Yoongi let out a moan as he roughly dragged his thumb across you, spreading the wetness. The touch had you moaning out, desperate to press back into him if not for the hand holding you down.
“This needy little cunt is sopping already. You like it rough, don’t you?” he goaded before abruptly sticking his thumb inside you. You whined at the contact, walls gripping at his finger, wanting more of him to fill you up.
“Please, sir…” you begged, moaning wantonly at his slow, unsatisfying movements.
“What was that?” he chuckled, removing his thumb to replace it with two of his fingers, scissoring apart and thrusting roughly.
“Fuck me,” you pleaded, overcome by pleasure, needing so badly to be stretched by a cock instead of his hands. When he pulled away from you entirely, you whined out.
“Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?” he sneered, “You haven’t even gotten your punishment yet and you think you deserve to get fucked?” He unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of his pants and doubling it within his grasp. You jumped at the feeling of the cool leather stroking your ass gently, swatting lightly as if to test the motion.
“This is for every time you’ve ever talked back to me. Every time you’ve turned me on with your tight ass blouses and tiny skirts. You drive me absolutely insane,” he barbed, “Five on each side and you’ll get rewarded. ‘Red’ if you need to stop, ‘yellow’ if you need me to ease up. Repeat it back to me.”
“Red to stop, yellow to ease up,” you panted, squeaking when a hand came down on your ass.
“Sorry, I don’t know who you’re speaking to,” he berated, part of you cursing your slip-up after doing well for so long.
“I – Sorry, sir,” you stammered, eager to please him so that you could get what came next. At your words, the belt came down on your left asscheek, and though the force behind it was weak, it was the loud noise of leather on skin that startled you. After giving you another of the same intensity, you almost thought he was going soft on you. Boy, were you wrong.
Satisfied with your reactions thus far, the belt came down harder, reaching the same strength as Yoongi’s hand earlier. Compared to his palms, though, the impact of the belt felt so much deeper, the pain radiating from the hit leaving you trembling. Two smacks of the belt hit you mercilessly in quick succession, causing you to cry out, only remaining standing thanks to the desk supporting your upper body. Your ass felt like it was on fire, but you could feel your arousal running along your inner thighs. You were sure if he thrust into you right now you would be more than ready to take him.
When he hit you again in the same spot even harder than before, tears sprung to your eyes. Your breath was coming out in pants, but you knew this would all be worth it in the end. Another two hits on the opposite cheek had you choking out a moan. You went limp, body instinctively wanting to curl away from the source of pain but the edge of the desk digging into your hips reminded you that such a thing wasn’t possible in your position.
“One more. Can you take it?” he inquired, taking in the shaking of your body and your loud gasps for air. One more. Despite the overwhelming sensation of pain radiating through you, you knew you could do it. You knew you wanted nothing more than the pleasure that followed. You nodded frantically.
“Yes, sir,” you gasped out, bracing yourself for a hit that never came. You burrowed your brow. Several more seconds passed, and you wondered whether he changed his mind. You should have known he was too cruel for that.
Just as you had let your guard down, the hit came, hard and unpitying. You let out a squeak, breath catching in your throat. Relief at your punishment being over quickly made its way to anticipation at the sound of the belt hitting the floor.
“You took it so well,” he cooed, “Are you gonna be a good little whore for me and take my cock too?” You moaned at his words, whimpering when you felt three fingers enter your dripping hole.
“I was gonna take the time to stretch you out, but it seems like this needy little cunt is ready for me already,” he snickered before removing his fingers. He sunk other hand into your hair, harshly yanking your head up and shoving his fingers into your mouth when you gasped. You sucked on what you could as he pressed his fingers as far as was possible, smirking when you gagged around him.
“Fuck, that’s a pretty sight…” he said wistfully, “Maybe next time I’ll stuff this pretty mouth.”
Removing his hand from you, he moved to unzip his pants, pulling them down just enough to remove his cock, slicking himself against your folds. When he started pushing into you slowly, you wanted so badly to thrust yourself back on him, but a firm hand held you down at the hips. His painfully slow pace had you whimpering for more.
“Please, sir, I need it,” you cried, desperate for the friction of him inside you. You couldn’t feel shame anymore, could only feel him fucking you, but you needed more.
“Your little cunt wants to be pounded, huh?” he growled, suddenly shoving himself all the way inside and starting up a brutal pace. “Just remember you asked for it even though I tried to ease you into it,” he said, punctuating his words with cruel, deep thrusts that left you reeling. His roughness left your mind blank, and you swore you could feel him in your stomach. All you could do was lay there open-mouthed, small moans and whines making their way freely from your mouth.
“You don’t seem to be talking back now, do you? I’m going to fuck you so dumb you won’t be able to say anything, you little whore.” True to his words, you couldn’t even form a coherent thought as he was pounding into you, your walls clenching around him as cries left your lips.
Suddenly, hands pulled you up so that your back moulded against his chest, one hand holding you up at the waist, the other wrapped around your throat. He squeezed in time with every thrust of his hips, and you felt utterly boneless in his grasp. Feeling lightheaded, you surrendered yourself entirely to his hands and his cock, mindless except for the feeling of him. After being wound up so long, you were already so close to falling over the edge, walls squeezing tighter and tighter as you approached your end.
“Gonna cum for me already, hm? Do you think I can’t feel this pussy gripping me for all it’s worth? Well, go on, cum for me then,” he commanded, hand around your waist moving to rub mercilessly at your clit. At the sudden onslaught of pleasure, you cried out loudly as the orgasm hit you in waves, Yoongi’s thrusts never pausing. When his strokes continued, your moans became laced with pain, cunt too sore to take the beating he was giving you.
When he pulled out of you abruptly, you thought it was over, but he turned you around quickly, seating you on his desk and sliding back into you without missing a beat. You whined at the stretch to your sore walls, but the sight of his face contorted in pleasure, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he thrusted against you had you thankful. You were moaning shamelessly, head tilted up to admire his features when his hand reached up to squeeze at your jaw, forcing it to open to relieve the pain.
When he pulled his own face close to yours, you didn’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t him spitting in your mouth, saliva hitting your tongue. You stared up at him wide-eyed, mouth only closing when he pushed your chin upwards.
“Swallow,” he demanded gruffly, eyes looking like they were going to devour you whole. A shiver went up your spine at possessive action, following his instructions and sticking your tongue out to show him once you were done. The moan you received in return was loud, thrusts quickening to further chase his pleasure.
“Such a good little whore for me, you’re getting better at following instructions,” he grunted out, pulling you forward to change the angle. With each thrust he was rubbing against that spongy spot inside of you, your head falling back as you let the sensation run over you.
The wave snuck up on you again, his thrusts relentless, the grinding of his pelvis against your clit every so often had your eyes rolling back. You were so sore, but it felt too good to stop. As he changed to shallow thrusts that had him only grinding against you, you felt that intense tightness in your abdomen. As he alternated between thrusting shallowly against your g-spot and slamming all the way in to grind against you, you shook in his hold, unable to catch your breath before another rush of pleasure had you weak.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, the release you felt was immaculate. Walls pulsing with seemingly no end, your orgasm left you seeing stars, all the tension in  your body gone in exchange for mind-numbing bliss.
Your heat clenching around him had Yoongi groaning lowly, thrusts shallow and sloppy as he felt his own end approach. When he looked down and spotted the wet spots on the stomach of his button-up shirt, his mind blanked. Shoving himself all the way inside, he muffled his moans into your neck as he came.
You let out a small mewl when he pulled out of you, the day’s exhaustion hitting you all at once. He hushed you, guiding your body down to the floor to rest against his desk, disappearing momentarily as you shut your eyes. Returning with wet paper towels, he dabbed lightly at your inner thighs and between your legs.
Eyelids fluttering open as you felt a hand in your hair, tired eyes met concerned ones as Yoongi inspected you from head to toe. “You okay?” he asked simply, hands moving to fix your misplaced panties and skirt. You nodded despite your fatigue, pausing when you spotted wet spots on Yoongi’s shirt. No way –
“You squirted,” he smirked, looking satisfied with himself, the devil in him returning for just a moment. At the confirmation, your face felt hot, your hands moving to hide as if that would quell your embarrassment.
“Hey,” he called softly, hands pulling your own away, “Don’t be embarrassed. It was hot. I like making you feel good,” he said. His words brought a small smile to your face, though you still couldn’t help but to feel a bit shy.
“Have you done something like this before?” he questioned, any judgment absent from his voice. You assumed he meant the spanking, the belt, the… everything, you guessed. Shaking your head in denial, he smiled gently at you.
“Will you come home with me?” he asked, watching you closely to gauge your reaction. His question had you pausing. Home? With him?
“Why?” you responded, wariness clear in your tone. He couldn’t blame you for your disbelief. After all, it wasn’t normal for someone to spend all his time teasing you, then suddenly fuck you into next year, then ask you home.
“I want to make sure you’re okay. And I wanted to cook you dinner. And I was hoping you would stay and talk. Please?” he urged you, gaze imploring. While you were sure this wouldn’t instantly fix the irritation you’d had with him all this time, he really did seem sincere. And you honestly weren’t sure if you could walk on your own anyway. If anything, this seemed like a good first step to repairing your relationship.
Of course, sex would be the thing to fix your despise for this man, you thought. Curse your horny brain once again.
“Okay,” you sighed, relenting. It was the least he could do to make it up to you, right?
1K notes · View notes
ausblack · 2 years ago
Trust Me | j.hs
➻ Request: “The protagonist adopts Hoseok, at first he's cold and introverted. Then he becomes territorial and protective, warms up to her and falls in love.“
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✵ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid!au
✵ Pairings: Black Panther Hybrid!Hoseok, Reader
✵ A/N: Hi everyone, it’s @aralty here. as some may know I’m a new admin, here to help my lovely friend with her work.
This is a request that comes from my blog but I decided to post it here so you guys can get to know my writing style a bit better. I hope you enjoy it!
The hybrid shelter was placed in a small building, with big windows that let the light in. You got in, and immediately you saw the walls full of excessive happy and positive posters, owners with bunny hybrid, small foxes and dogs.
Visiting an hybrid shelter wasn't something in your routine, since you barely could stand the idea of humans making animals obey them. But as you friend suggested, you were searching for a predator hybrid, and this was the reason: the college you were now studying at was the only one that peaked your interest, but since it was so far from your native city, you had to rent an apartment, even if the only one you were able to get your hands was placed in a zone that could get you killed almost at every moment. So a predator to keep yourself safe from attacks and criminals was the best idea so that you didn't get killed anytime soon.
"Hello, can I help you?" an old man appeared from a door in the back of the reception.
"Hi, I-I'm looking for a predator hybrid..." you told him, trying to sound convinced and not completely in panic because of the situation.
"Alright, do you have any preferences?" he said as he took from a drawer what seemed like a photo book.
"Not really, I'm not an expert, I just need an hybrid that could..."
"protect you?" the man said as he tried to understand your needs.
"Exactly, I live in a not particularly safe area so that'd be nice".
He man nodded as he closed the book and took some keys from the desk.
"If you'd like, I could show you some options." he showed you to follow him and opened the same door he closed before.
That's probably were they keep the hybrids, you thought.
You followed the man, trying to calm your anxiety as you feet moved shaking.
The space behind that door seemed infinite: it was a long hall, and on his sides there were rooms with glass walls. There were the most variety of hybrids you had ever seen.
They seemed to be ordered in species: first you saw dog hybrids, of all kinds and ages. Most of them were busy playing with toys, balls, bones. Others were sleeping, and others took a quick glance as you passed by.
You kept on walking, as you passed by cats, bunnies, squirrels and all kind of animals.
Then the hall ended with a big, solid door. The man took out another ring of keys and as you entered that room, your ears were filled with low growls.
You felt shivers as you looked at caged predator hybrids: white tigers, lions, wolves, bears, jaguars. Most of them were tracing marks on the walls with their long, sharp claws, others were looking at you with big, scary eyes, as they slowly walked towards the glass walls, as close to you as possible.
"This, is the predators room. Although they might seem really intimidating, once they understand that you are their owner they'll follow everything you say."
"Are they that...submissive? Shouldn't they be predators?" you sounded really insecure, still worried about the possibility of hybrids being mistreated.
"They are, miss, but we teach them to obey to every single order their owner give them."
you nodded and started to look at them.
Most of them were males, except for a grey wolf hybrid busy filing her claws.
"What are the average prices?" you asked trying to stay rational.
He took out of his pocket a small rate card, but as soon as he handed it to you, your eyes widened at the amount of numbers you read next to the names of the kinds of hybrids.
"I-I think it's a bit out of the amount of money I'd spend" your voice was so weak, afraid of realizing that you probably would never be able to get an hybrid.
"This is the average amount of money everybody asks for an hybrid, miss." the owner looked at you with an apologetic smile, but as you thought you had no more chances, a thoughtful look grew on the man's face.
"But, if you really need one, I might have something closer to your budget. But, you'll understand that since this particular kind is cheaper, there are some sides of him that need to be...taken care of. Would you still like to see him?".
A spark of hope grew in your chest and you immediately nodded, trying to hide your excitement as the owner turned and started walking again. When he got to the end of the hall, you saw that the last room were empty, except for one.
Long, slim legs were partially covered by a pair of black, ripped jeans, that barely reached his ankles and left his bare feet against the cold ground.
His back on the wall, his chest covered by a black shirt and what seemed like a sweater, almost half of it ripped to shreds.
The black was in contrast with the white, unhealthy color of his skin. His features were sharp, but still elegant. His eyes were closed, adorned by dark eye bags and what seemed like deep scratches. His hair matched the clothes, pitch black.
"He's a black panther hybrid". You were so taken back by his features that, for a couple of minutes you forgot that there was somebody else with you.
He's beautiful.
"What were the...aspects you were talking about?". Your eyes were still glued on him, watching as his chest moved as he breathed in and out, listening to the light growls that were coming out of his lips.
"The reasons we sell him for such a cheap price is, even though he's a pretty rare kind, he's not tamed as the other predators. He's a great one, but since he never learned to obey humans, he becomes a predator to us too."
"Which means he could kill me as soon as I take him home" you finish his sentence, taking in slowly all the information.
"Hopefully not, but he could. He's extremely aggressive and never got to socialize with any other predator, we feared he could have hurt them."
You kept on looking at him, trying to imagine how could such a being act so aggressively. "Can I...think about it?" you asked finally taking your eyes off of the sleeping figure.
"Of course, I highly doubt anyone will look for him anytime soon.".
Some days passed, and none of it passed without the thought of that hybrid in your head. You talked with your friends about him, your parents and neighbors.
In the end, four days later you headed straight to the shelter.
He was awake, this time. Eyes sharp and piercing glued on you. You got closer to the glass cautiously. "I'm Y/N. I'm gonna take you home." you waved and smiled shyly, trying to mask the panic with awkwardness. His lips didn't move, hi eyes fixed on you and his hands slightly moving on the metal bench he was sitting on.
"We're gonna take him out, maybe it's better if you wait at the entrance.".
Half an hour later, all the papers had been filled, money had been given as well as instructions and the truck of the shelter was taking you both home.
During the ride you were looking at the papers, learning his basic information.
The ride was quiet, some small talks with the owner, but Hoseok didn't speak a word.
When the owner of the shelter left you at your house, you felt even more anxious. You started walking to your apartment, hoping he would follow you. Thankfully he did and not that much later you were locking the door behind you two.
"So...this is home. It's not that big, there's room for two people but you might need to get used to small spaces. So, this is the living room, there you have the kitchen, the bathroom and there's my room. You can sleep there until I find a mattress, until then I'll use the couch.". The hybrid behind you was still in front of the entrance, bag placed on the ground, he didn't even dare to move. His eyes were running around, and suddenly he started growling lowly, trying to catch all the scents he could smell.
You realized he wouldn't have moved soon, so you left your bag on the couch, took off your coat and walked towards him to take his bag.
You didn't even touch it, but immediately a loud, terrifying growl came from his throat and he stepped menacingly towards you. You stepped back terrified, almost tripping on the carpet. His eyes were so sharp you felt threatened, his whole body emanated power and anger. You didn't do anything else. You stepped back and left him space, heading to the kitchen, hoping sooner or later he would have felt at home.
The days after were a routine of going to university, trying to make small talks, receiving growls as a response, making food and leaving it in front of him, hoping he would have eaten it.
You were slowly making progress: you managed to get him to nod yes or no at simple questions, but he still had that annoyed, almost mad aura around him.
You still managed to make him growl at you sometimes: you learned he didn't love being touched or being stared at, so you avoided that.
But you were so curious: where did he came from? What was his past? Why was he so cold and angry?
You had so many questions, and one evening you spilled them all.
You were both on the couch, eating some pre-made food you heated.
"Why don't you talk a bit about your past? What happened to you?". You probably had been a bit rude or invasive: he started growling angrily, his ears twitching, they never did. "I am not from Seoul, actually. I live here because of university. That's where I go everyday, in case you were wondering.". His features were way more relaxed, he even seemed interested as you told him about yourself.
You talked about growing up in a conservative and closed-minded family, how difficult it had been to move out, the difficulties, the loneliness, the lack of friends. And as you remembered your childhood, Hoseok seemed to zone out until he parted his lips.
"I'm from Gwangju". His voice was like velvet, a bit rough, probably because he hadn't talked in who knows how much. He didn't look at you, he just kept on talking.
"I don't remember much. I spent years trying to hide with other hybrids until someone caught us. We go locked in something like a prison for hybrids, I remember cages everywhere. We were hundreds. Every now and then they took one of us, and we would have never seen him again.". His gaze was firm on the edge of the wooden table. You were trying not to move, afraid of interrupting the moment. You saw his bottom lip shaking a second before he talked again. "Some of us were more powerful, and more angry. We often, as soon as we had the occasion, used to attack whoever got in our cages. But when you get too rebellious, they hit you. Hard. Whips, chains. Sometimes kicks, stones. Some after that got quiet. I didn't. Each hit angered me even more. One day, I couldn't take it anymore. I went crazy, and I-I managed to get out of there, helping some of my friends. But later on someone else caught me again, and the ones I rescued left me there, alone. That's how I got here. That's why I trust no one.". His breaths were steady and regular, as if he had told this story a hundred times. But you knew he didn't. His fingers were fidgeting and he kept on squeezing his eyes closed.
Thoughts were running in his head, asking himself if he did the right thing, it opening up to you was a wise choice, and as he kept on thinking he felt something warm grabbing his hand.
Your fingers were cold as they hugged his, bu he didn't flinch nor did he growled. Instead he grabbed your hand and took it in his, trying to warm you up as a sign of gratitude for opening up to him. Probably for the first time in weeks, Hoseok really took in your scent. It was sweet, something that reminded him of winter, spices. It felt like a warm hug, comfortable and cozy.
He tried to refrain himself from marking the place, now that he truly felt comfortable. It felt strange, it took just a simple conversation and now he truly felt at home.
The apartment no longer felt cold. The silence was filled with "good morning", "how has your day been", "want to go out for dinner?".
You were learning so much more about him: how he loved to death sushi, any kind of meat. You shared your music with him, your taste in movies. And even though you felt much closer, you still felt a thin glass between you and Hoseok. Maybe it was you, maybe him. You didn't know.
Maybe you felt it because you were slowly, falling for him.
That Friday you were exhausted: university was becoming each day more stressful, you barely had time to spend with Hoseok and he felt that.
He wasn't an affectionate being, but he sensed how stressed and lonely you felt and all he felt the need to do was to take care of you. Your spine was curved on you desk, full of written papers, you computer being the only light in the darkness of the room that was now Hoseok's. He was watching you from the door, a plate full of sweets in one hand and a cup of hot tea in the other. You felt his presence and as you turned to him and saw the sweet view, something in you lit and a grateful smile grew on your face.
He walked towards you, starting to organize the messy papers as you stretched your muscles. He placed the plate and cup in front of you and as a shy "Thank you" escaped from your lips, you felt his arms sneaking around your waist. Your body stiffened on the chair, taken back by the demonstration of love. He had never done his.
You gradually relaxed in his arms and it didn't take long for Hoseok to place his head on your shoulder and brushing your neck with his nose, taking in every single trace of your scent, that had by now became his favorite.
You felt his heart beating against your back, his soft breaths against your neck. Your eyes closed, taking in the feeling of his warmth on you, getting used to it and wondering how it would feel to receive this every day. And as you kept on wondering, Hoseok started placing soft, light kisses on your neck and shoulder, that felt like sparks of electricity on your cold skin.
You let out soft whimpers as Hoseok was lightly nibbling your jaw.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked a bit worried, still teasing your neck with his soft, hungry lips. You nodded, bringing a smile on both of your faces.
"You should eat something and then sleep, it's late.". He was whispering and you felt shivers everywhere.
You looked at your clock. 10.47.
His arms left your body and you felt slightly cold until you picked your cup and started sipping. He took your cup away as soon as you had finished, so you switched off your computer and headed to the couch, where you had been sleeping for the past weeks. You covered it with your blankets and changed your clothes, taking off your jeans and bra and switching to a couple of shorts and an oversized shirt. You laid down on your bed ready to switch on your lights, already missing the warmth of his body until you hear footsteps getting closer.
"Want to sleep on the bed? Sleeping that much on a couch isn't the most comfortable thing to do when you're stressed." you smiled at his sweet request.
"It's alright, I don't want you to sleep on something uncomfortable either".
"I meant that you could sleep in the bed with me". Your cheeks felt hot as a smirk grew on his face.
"I-I don't want you to feel uneasy".
"You think I'd ask you if I wasn't okay with it?". That was enough for you to get out of your blanket, cold air hitting your bare legs again.
He looked at your figure, it was strange seeing you like this. He was used to see you in jeans and sweaters, the only skin you showed were your hands and neck.
He turned around, trying not to be obvious about his reaction and opened the door of your room for you to get in. You quietly got into your bed, trying to warm yourself until you felt Hoseok's strong arms placing you on his chest. You looked at his eyes, feeling his hands firm on your hips, trying to refrain from running them on every inch of your skin.
For weeks Hoseok had been feeling the need to get closer to you, to break that wall that made him unable to love people. And when he had looked at you earlier, so exhausted, he had felt like he had to make you feel better, safe. He felt like he owe it to you, he also felt like he had to take care of you. Because deep down he wanted you to be his.
But it had nothing to do with his hybrid instinct. He wasn't in heat, nor did he feel the need to have a mate. That wasn't the reason he wanted you so bad. He wanted you not in a carnal sense. He wanted to be with you, because he felt so at ease when he was with you. You had showed him what he didn't think humans had: kindness, and love.
And he wanted to thank you for that.
Your heartbeats seemed to race against each other, your chest near to bursting until he turned and you were with your back on the bed, him on top of you as he started kissing and nibbling your skin again. Much more roughly this time.
His hands couldn't stop from touching the skin underneath your shirt, feeling every muscle being pleasured by his hot, passionate touch.
His lips were rough against your collarbones, each time he sucked and nibbled he had you moaning under him, trying to feel him against you. Your skin was on fire.
He got rid of the blankets on you two, cold air hitting your legs again. He started moving, going down, kissing your arms, wrists, hands until he got to your stomach and then thighs. He stopped for a second, making you catch your breath again. He looked at you, searching for any sign of discomfort on your face. But he found any. All he could see was pleasure. He started again, slowly. He placed kisses on your thighs, taking your hand in his. He was slow, passionate this time. You felt each kiss on your soft skin, breathing slowly as he took care of you.
"Can I mark you?" his voice was unexpected, almost afraid of breaking the silence, almost like he was scared. And you were too. You didn't know what it would have been like, but you agreed anyway. Because if that meant you would have been his, that's all you wanted.
He kissed softly both of your hands and let them go, put his around you thigh and after taking a look at you, he placed his sharp teeth on your skin and bit.
All you felt wasn't even close to pain: you felt a wash of pleasure and relief all over your body and as you exhaled, breath shaking a bit, Hoseok was by your side again, his hands in yours making sure you were okay.
And you were. His.
The day after you were still exhausted. You mentally thanked Hoseok for distracting you and actually letting you sleep: the next morning you managed to get up and go to university without problems, but the day had been even more tough that the one before. You were walking to the door of your apartment, looking for the keys in your bag when the door opened.
"Hi there" Hoseok greeted you with a smile on his face, opening his arms for you to sneak your around his waist. You both took in each other smells.
"Did you cook?" you asked intrigued, noticing the smell of sugar and cookies in the air.
"Maybe, who knows". He let you go and took your bag to place it on the table.
You changed your clothes, still sticking to a pair of shorts and that oversized shirt and then collapsed on the couch. After taking one of the cookies from the plate Hoseok had placed on the table, he sit beside you and traced the outline of the mark on your thigh.
"Does it hurt?" he asked worried, sill seeing splashes of reds and pink on your skin.
"No, it still needs to heal a bit I think." you started playing with his fingers and snuggled by his side. You stood like this for a while until someone knocked at your door. You felt Hoseok tense up beside you, his ears and tail twitching. You calmed him down by saying it was probably a neighbor, so you left him on the couch just to see who was at the door.
You walked barefoot, realizing that since it was so cold it would have been better to dress up a bit more. You shook your thoughts away and opened the door.
Before you could even realize who you had in front of you, your body hit the ground violently and you felt someone on top of you pinning you down, a knife pressed on your neck. You immediately tried to free yourself by moving, but the man on top of you moved his hand and as you tried to get away the knife stabbed you in the shoulder. A brutal shout grew in your throat and filled the air.
You felt pain growing every second, starting from the wound and invading every single muscle, nerve. Your brain was going nuts, you didn't feel control anymore. Your hand reached your shoulder, trying to minimize the pain but the weight of the man on your body didn't let you. Suddenly the weight disappeared and you saw Hoseok throwing himself at the man.
The hybrid had never looked so much like a panther before: his claws were sharp, his mouth wide with a terrifying grin on his face. His eyes seemed on fire as raw growls and shouts came out of his sore throat.
He couldn't see anything, the anger had blurred his eyes: as soon as he had heard you screaming and saw you bleeding on the floor, he lost it.
He couldn't feel his hands no more as he kept on stabbing, scratching and hurting the monster he had in front of him.
His teeth felt the flesh and the taste of blood in his mouth, the feeling of blood on his hands, on his clothes. He couldn't feel anything. Everything seemed dumb.
And when strong arms separated him from the man, he kept on fighting. An instinct inside of him kept on telling him to tear that being apart. But when he finally stopped rebelling, he felt nauseous. He looked at his red hands, and as he looked around he didn't see you.
The authorities kept on yanking him away from the apartment, forcing him to get on his knees. His head kept on moving like crazy, looking for you, shouting your name, screaming to let him go.
But you couldn't hear him.
Your body was almost lifeless, laid on the bed of an ambulance. You weren't in danger, you just had lost blood, but you felt like dying. Your head was spinning, you shoulder burning your flesh like fire. Your head was numb.
And when Hoseok got to the entrance of the building, authorities still yanking him, he saw the ambulance.
His raw, rough voice felt like tearing his throat apart. He shouted your name, trying to set himself free, trying to get away form the arms that were caging him, trying to get to you.
And when he saw you in the ambulance, laying still, eyes closed on the bed, he ran.
He set himself free and in a second he was by your side. Immediately the nurses tried to send him away, on the verge of calling the policemen from which he escaped.
"I'm her hybrid, please!" he cried out, holding your hand and kneeling by your side.
"Did you do this?" one of them asked, pointing the mark on your thigh.
"I marked her." he whispered, feeling the fatigue washing over him trying to catch a sudden lack of air.
"Y/N please, I'm here. Look at me." a single tear wet his cheek as he kissed your hand. He knew you were breathing. He could sense it. But he needed you to see him. To know he was there for you.
Hoseok heard the policemen shouting in his direction but he didn't look back. His eyes were fixed on yours, hoping they would have opened soon.
And a second before strong arms ripped his hold on your hand, your eyes opened slightly.
"Hoseok...HOSEOK!" you immediately woke up when he saw the policemen tearing him away from you. You got up, trying to leave the ambulance and reach him. But you both were caught.
And the last thing you saw were his terrified eyes before the car door closed and they took him away from you.
White, cold light blinded you the second your eyes opened again.
The ambulance had taken you to the hospital after they had took Hoseok away from you. You stayed in that cold, dead room for two days, waiting for your wound to heal.
As you stood up and walked to the bathroom, you saw your reflection in front of you.
Dark eye bags and puffy red eyes that revealed the truth you didn't want nurses to know: you spend nights crying until sunrise, blaming all of this on the wound and scratches that adorned your chest, shoulders, arms, neck.
You caressed the scratch on your cheek, brushing your pale lips with your fingertips.
And suddenly all you needed was warmth.
The feeling of his arms around you, warming you up, distracting you from everything else.
Not much later, you got released from there.
You had bandages and stitches everywhere. But all you were thinking about was him. You had called a taxi, and now he was driving as fast as you could get him to drive to the police station.
He has to be there.
You got off the taxi, legs still hurting, and ran inside.
The building was full of people walking in and out, the sound of papers, keys and computers invaded the place.
"Miss do you need help?" a kind voice spoke behind you. The young man's face looked concerned as he looked at you: a young, lost, bandaged girl in a police station.
"I-I'm looking for an hybrid. They took him here two or three days ago, I think."
"You are Y/N Y/L/N?".
"Yes...yes I am."
"Come with me, miss". The young man started walking and you followed him. He got through a door, then another one, then again, another one.
Until you got to a place full of cells, and cages.
Your eyes started looking for hi, and when they found him you ran to his cell: he looked devastated.
Curled up on the bed, his thin body shaking, sobs and whimpers coming from his chest.
"Hobi..." as that name escaped your lips, the boy left the bed and ran to you, taking immediately your hands in his.
"Y/N, you're alright" he said in disbelief. Tears were wetting his cheeks. You dried them with your sweater.
"I am, don't worry" you couldn't help but smile in between your tears.
"How long am I gonna stay in here?" he asked you eyes not leaving yours, hands firm in yours.
"Not much, I'm taking you out of here".
"P-please, I feel like losing my mind. All this bars a-and-"
"Shhh breathe. I promise you. I'm getting you out of here" you said with a sad smile, as you hold his hands thigh.
And you did. The neighbors had talked to the authorities, that were already looking for the criminal that they had caught now.
But they had to keep Hoseok in there because, since he was an hybrid, he had to belong to someone. They would have kept him in there for a couple of days if no one showed up, and then they would have eventually taken him to the shelter.
You were so lucky you had found him.
The policeman had took Hoseok out of there while you signed all the papers you needed to.
He was waiting for you out of there, and when you finally closed the door of the police station, his arms held you tight against his chest, not planning on letting you go anytime soon.
And as he held your head, kissing your lips with his, he swore to himself he would have never, ever let you go.
-admin aralty ㈨
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smaubts · 6 months ago
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call me baby
part 1. lying RAT | next
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ddaeng-181338 · 2 years ago
Cold | 07
Wolf! AU
• Min Yoongi x Reader
• Enemies to Lovers
Yoongi hated you the second you joined the pack and that was that
Cold Masterlist • See my blog for full Masterlist
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Namjoon had left crutches for you to use — it was easier for you then just hobbling around on your injured ankle. “Need help down the stairs princess?” Namjoon — not really to your surprise — has been waiting for you by the stairs when you left your room.
“I mean it would be nice.” He chuckled softly at your remark and scooped you up bridal style. “Hold On tight princess.” You rolled your eyes, wrapping one arm around his neck and clutching your crutches in the other. His feet made soft thumps against the staircase until he finally he reached the bottom floor.
“Y/n! Just in time princess dinner is ready!” Jin smiled brightly at you, dark eyes flashing blue for a moment and you smiled. The other boys were already at the seats around the kitchen table and greeted you and Namjoon with cheerful hellos — well except for Yoongi who had a mouthful of food.
“Look at her go.” Jungkook laughed softly and you made a beeline for the table on your crutches — Namjoon trailing behind you to make sure you didn’t fall over in the process. “Easy there killer you don’t want to hurt yourself more.” Yoongi’s deep voice caught you by surprise, you nearly froze mid lunge on your crutch because of it.
The omega in you wanted to submit to him and all he did was speak. You fought off your shock and instead forced a grin. “I’m skilled cat eyes.” He raised an eyebrow at you as Namjoon helped you take a seat right across from him. “So skilled brat, so skilled.” the others watched the two of you for a moment more before going back to devouring their own food.
There was something in his voice that was making the omega wolf in you want to submit to him. What the hell is he doing… your mind wandered to your dream from earlier, his face between your thighs shook your head reaching for your fork quickly to shovel food into your mouth. “Yoongi hyung?” Namjoon’s voice sounded next to you and you glanced up.
No words were spoke between the two but you could tell they were talking to one another. They had lived together the longest before the others came along — their bond was unbreakable and you knew they knew each other better than the knew themselves. The sense of wanting to submit faded away and you let out a small sigh of relief. Was Yoongi actually trying to make me submit? Did Namjoon sense it and that’s why…
That had to be why you concluded, reaching for your glass of water to eye both men carefully. They acted as if nothing happened and no one else seemed to notice the whole interaction take place. You looked down again at your plate, shoveling more food in while you thought over what just happened. Luckily your dinners as a pack were always quiet — everyone too busy eating to make conversation.
An overwhelming sense of being stared at came over you and you looked up to meet Yoongi’s dark gaze. His eyes flashed red for a moment and a low — barely audible — growl left his lips. Once again you felt the urge to submit to him. What in the hell is he doing? Namjoon kicked Yoongi under the table — brushing past your leg in the process and once again the urge to submit to him subsided.
“What are you doing Cat Eyes?” Your eyes shot up to look at him, no anger in them or disdain — just confusion. Yoongi merely smirked at you before returning to his food, this time you turned your eyes to Namjoon. A million questions in your eyes and he just gave you a small smile. “I’ll talk to him later on.” Was all he mumbled to you before eating his own food.
The rest of dinner passed by uneventful, light talking and joking while going back for seconds. “Y/n what made you go out running at night?” Jungkook was looking at you with wide doe like eyes. Leave it to this pack to have every eye shape but a Damn wolf. “Wanted to test my stamina and senses. I did okay up until I hurt my ankle.” Jungkook nodded — he was guilty of going for night runs as well.
“Next time you want to do that y/n let me know and I’ll go with you, even if you have to wake me up.” You smiled sweetly at his offer “I’ll keep that in mind Kook.” He nodded softly and turned to Taehyung who was using his chopsticks as makeshift fangs and poking Hoseok with them.
Jimin patted your thigh softly and you turned your attention to him. Not a word was spoken but you knew exactly what he was talking about.
“What’s up with Yoongi?”
“Not a Damn clue.”
“I could sense his jealousy from here.”
“No shit.”
“We should hang out in my room after this yeah? Hoseok? Wanna join us?” Jimin’s eyes wandered over to Hoseok who nodded softly. And that was that. You all got up minutes later, helping Seokjin by dropping of your plates on the way out. “Jungkook, Tae come help me with these before I beat your asses.” You laughed as Seokjin had to pull the two by their ears back into the kitchen.
On your way out you spotted Namjoon dragging Yoongi to his room — all the while Yoongi seemed to be mumbling about something before glancing back your way. Your cheeks flushed and you quickly looked back towards Jimin and Hoseok who were halfway up the stairs. “Hey...uhh guys I’m on crutches.”
Both men stopped to look down on you and laughed. “Well damn we’re dumb.” Hoseok snorted and he walked back down the stairs to scoop you up bridal style. Jimin came over too , scooping your crutches up and heading up the stairs before Hoseok and you. “My room Hoseokie, y/n can sit on my bed.”
Hoseok nodded, humming softly as he rocked you softly like a baby. “What did you want to talk about Jiminie?” Your voice was soft as the three of you headed down the hall. “Nothing in particular, I just wanted to hang out with you three. You could use a good laugh Y/n.”
You felt your eyes well with tears for a moments before you blinked them away.
“How do you know me so well Jiminie?” He smiled, turning around to look at you for a moment. “Because I see a lot of myself in you.”
“What the hell was that hyung?” Namjoon’s voice came out in a soft whisper. His arms crossed across his chest, he might be younger that Yoongi but he was still pack leader. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Namjoon.”
Yoongi flopped down on the younger man’s bed. “Yes you do hyung. You need to explain yourself.” He was persistent and Yoongi knew there was no way he was getting away with the little stunts he pulled at dinner. Yet he continued— “I really don’t know what you’re getting at Namjoon.”
Namjoon’s patience was strong — but yoongi’s stubbornness always had a way of making it run thin. “Listen to me hyung…” his eyes flashed a dark red for a moment “as pack leader you are obligated to tell me what I want to know. Hyung or not.” Yoongi took the hint and sighed, his walls coming down in one swoop.
“I don’t know Namjoon. I just… fuck I don’t know where to even begin.” Namjoon grabbed his desk chair, pulling it out and sitting down across from Yoongi. “We got all the time in the world hyung, start from where you think is best.” Yoongi sighed, leaning down to settle among Namjoon’s many pillows. Namjoon snorted — it was as if he was a therapist.
“It really started last night Namjoon, seeing her in such a bad shape when you came in with her. Sure we went back and forth and were rude as all hell to each other. But seeing her like that changed something in me.” Namjoon’s head tilted to the side. Eyeing the man carefully as he continued. “And I knew the story you told me was pretty believable and you’re good at sticking to it. But she told me everything Namjoon. When she woke up earlier today.”
So he knows her past...but how much? “She told you everything?” Yoongi nodded, eyes shutting as he sighed deeply. “Her old pack, her psycho ex and the abuse and… everything.” The room fell silent for a few moments before Namjoon spoke again. “So you wouldn't want me to tell her you didn’t leave her side until she woke up?” There was a teasing note in his voice and Yoongi Shot up straight. “Tell her and I’ll kill you Joonie.” A small smile fought its way into Yoongi’s features as he flopped back down again.
“Do you have feelings for her Yoongi?” Straight to the point but it’s better to be blunt with Yoongi. There was a few second pause before Namjoon got the answer he wasn’t expecting. “I don’t know...yes? No? I’m confused Namjoon.” A shocked smile appeared across Namjoon’s features. So I was right.
“You’re jealous min Yoongi. The alpha wolf in you wants her to submit. But you’re too stubborn to tell her your feelings. Your wolf new the moments she walked through the pack door she was the one you wanted. And that scared you didn’t it?” Yoongi was silent, arm slung over his face so Namjoon couldn't see his expression.
“Damn you for being so smart Kim Namjoon. How the hell…” Namjoon let out a laugh, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes as well. “I can read people easily Yoongi. And if it gives you any piece of mind she wants you too. The omega wolf in her wants you. So maybe with her heat coming up you’ll be able to finally satisfy your wolves needs hmm?”
For the second time that night Yoongi shot up in bed. “Fuck.” Namjoon’s brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” Yoongi seemed panicked , the scent filling the room as he hopped of Namjoon’s bed and begun to pace the room. “My Rut namjoon, my fucking rut is a week before her heat. How am I supposed to control myself around her…”
“The way you always do Yoongi, you leave for a few weeks till your rut passes and her heat passes.” Yoongi shook his head, hands becoming clammy. “No namjoon you don’t get it. I want…” Namjoon finished his sentence. “You want to spend your rut with her. And you want to help her through her heat yeah?”
“Don’t say it out loud!” His eyes went as wide as saucers and he froze. “Well Yoongi, I think your best bet is to talk to her.” There was another silence in the room as Yoongi seemed to think things over in his head. “Do you know where she is right now?”
“Up in Jimin’s room with Hoseok and well...Jimin.” And before Namjoon could even react Yoongi was out the door. Well that should be an interesting conversation.
Your stomach hurt and tears stained your cheeks. “Jimin stop it! I can’t breathe!” You were doubled over in his bed laughing hysterically as you watched him attempt an online game. Beside you Hoseok was laughing as well, tears running down his cheeks and Jimin jumped out of his chair in frustration for the fifth time since he started playing the impossible game.
“I can’t help it! It’s ridiculous!” Laughter bubbles out of him and you three fell into another fit of unbearable giggles. “Thank you guys really. I don’t know how you knew Jimin but this is really something I needed.” Jimin’s giggles subsided enough for him to speak “of course y/n.” The fits of laughter subsided as the game restarted and Jimin took his seat once more.
You and Hoseok sat on his bed with wide eyes and laughter already bubbling in your chests as Jimin already begun to fail the current level. “Damn Jimin you really suck as this game.” All three of you turned towards the door where Yoongi was standing. “Shut up hyung!” Jimin’s eyes flew back to his computer screen, hands furiously hitting the buttons.
“Sup Cat Eyes.” Your voice was teasing, you wanted to know why exactly he was here. “Sup brat. Can I talk to you alone actually?” Hoseok glances between the two of you with raised eyebrows. Meanwhile Jimin’s fingers stuttered over the controller for a moment before tapping furiously again. “Sure, your room?” He nodded, large hand coming up to run the back of his head.
You nodded, Hoseok helping you grab your crutches as you headed out of the room with him. “Is this about your little stunts at dinner cat eyes?” Yoongi remained silent until he reached his room opening the door slowly to let you in first. You entered with a small thanks and were met with Yoongi’s natural pine scent. “Damn Yoongi your room smells really good…”
You turned to watch him close the door behind him, locking it with a soft click. Your heart quickened slightly at the gesture.
“We really need to talk Y/n.”
1K notes · View notes
jeojahari · 2 months ago
01 | kiss it better | myg
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🠒 summary: you're one of the lucky ones, everyone else tells you. finding your soulmate the day you turn 18 isn't something that happens to a lot of people... but you and your other half are going to have to make a lot of progress to be able to tolerate each other.
or, you and yoongi can feel everything the other feels, and you're hell bent on causing each other pain.
🠒 pairing: yoongi x reader
🠒 genre: angst, fluff, e2l!au, soulmates!au, college au, crack?
🠒 warnings: profanity, implied smut
🠒 word count: 2.2K
🠒 notes: here we go!! i'm so ready for this, i hope you are too <3 also i literally live for bff!jimin omg
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part 01: one gaze
(series m. list)
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"Happy eighteen, Y/N!"
"You're an adult now!"
"Hey, why don't I kiss you and see if we're meant to be?"
You zero in on Jimin, his playful eyes twinkling under the chandelier's light. "Try it, I dare you. It'll be the last thing you do."
"You're so mean to me," he pouts, taking another bite of your birthday cake, leaving a smidge of white frosting on his lips. Namjoon pats his shoulder comfortingly, chuckling.
"You know that's not how it works," he explains. "Your signs are supposed to match, and I'm pretty sure an apple and a moon are two very different things."
You remember that, too — your best friend and roommate screeching profanities from the shower the morning of his birthday, making you rush to the bathroom in worry.
"Jimin-ah? What's wrong?!"
"Y/N! This is the worst thing that could possibly happen to me! I might as well jump off a bridge and die!"
"Are you alright?!"
"No, Y/N, how do you expect me to be? Do you know what my fucking soulmate mark is?!"
And he'd showed you his wrist after he was done with his shower, the outline of an apple resting on his pale skin. You, of course, had found that extremely funny... unlike him.
"Yeah, yeah," Jimin says, stabbing the cake again. "Laugh all you want, Y/N. I bet I'll find my soulmate before you do."
"No way," you scoff, leaning back against the comfortable chair. "I highly doubt you ever will."
"Take that back!"
Namjoon eyes you two somewhat warily, but he's used to things like this. Having been stuck with the both of you since his junior year of high school, this isn't something out of the ordinary, and it definitely isn't the worst he's ever seen.
"You're not hot enough," Jimin retorts.
"You're not hot enough," you return pettily. "Plus, you're literally the size of Jeon Jungkook's brain, and that's saying a lot."
"Did you really just compare me to the campus fuckboy?" Looking around quickly, Jimin grabs an unused spoon off the table and hurls it at you. Ever the archery ace, his aim is not to be underestimated, and he hits you square in the shoulder.
At the same time, a strong wave of pain hits you directly in the knee, and you instinctively cry out, your sudden yelp alerting both of your friends.
"Y/N?" Jimin's eyes widen in surprise. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—!"
"No," you shake your head mid-grimace. "I mean, no, it's not you. Actually, that was a pretty weak throw, Minnie."
Namjoon offers you a sympathetic smile. "Soulmate?"
"Yep." You sigh, wincing as you shift your leg to the side. "It's been happening a lot recently. Either they're a complete doofus or someone's hurting them on purpose."
"I don't know about yours, but Namjoon is the biggest doofus around," Jimin points out, retrieving the spoon from the floor. "Do you know how often he randomly hurts himself while walking out the door and not looking where the hell he's going? It's a wonder Sejung isn't covered with bruises at this point."
"He still is the clumsiest person I know," you agree, laughing. "Oh, and she is covered with bruises, just not the kind you're talking about. At least, her neck is."
Namjoon is blushing furiously at your words. "Wait until you find yours," he defends, glancing down at the small leaf etched into his skin. "You won't be able to keep your hands off of each other."
"You would know," you giggle, mouth closing around the last chunk of cake on your fork. "Anyways, that's the deal. If they keep this up, I might just rage-murder them and live out the single life."
Jimin doesn't hesitate to point out, "Y/N, you would also die. That, or get really close to it."
"No, she definitely would die," Namjoon confirms with a nod. You take this opportunity to kick them both under the table, stifling a giggle when you see the visible winces on both their faces.
"You guys," you sigh, shaking your head, "are the absolute worst."
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Evening rolls around and you're just hanging out in your shared apartment, home alone and still feeling a bit lazy from all the cake you ate at lunch. Right as you're about to get off the couch to grab a glass of water, your phone goes off with a single notification.
[06:38 PM] idiot #1: !! y/n y/n y/n
[06:38 PM] you: jimin jimin jimin
[06:38 PM] idiot #1: please help me pls pls pls
[06:38 PM] you: what did u do now oml
[06:38 PM] idiot #1: i didn't!!! i just need u here pleeeeease can you come to table 17 at the library plssss
[06:38 PM] you: ?? why? are u abt to fail another exam? i thought u were studying with taehyung and he's basically a genius
[06:39 PM] idiot#1: no and yes bUT THE POINT IS he brought his friends, one of whom just so happens to be the insufferable jeon fucking jungkook and i need to show off my own amazingly awesome best friend or this is gonna be SO humiliating
[06:39 PM] you: jungkook is literally not that bad what do you even hate him for ???
[06:39 PM] idiot #1: bro he's literally so fucking arrogant i swear you only like him because he sweet talks u or some shit
[06:39 PM] you: he does not!!! fuckboys have hearts too sheesh, he's really sweet
[06:39 PM] idiot #1: yeah yeah whatever. he's so pathetic that he had to ask you for help on that paper
[06:39 PM] idiot #1: bruh okay fine but please will u come y/n
[06:39 PM] you: yes but only because taehyung's hot
[06:39 PM] idiot #1: oh my GOD y/n he's basically my brother
[06:39 PM] you: but he's hot
[06:39 PM] idiot #1: okay will u just... come here alr pls.... drool all over tae you want just pls be next to me rn
[06:40 PM] you: okok chill man give me 5 mins
[06:40 PM] idiot #1: THANK YOU !!!!!!!
And that is how you find yourself staring down your tiny collection of clothes, trying to figure out what to wear to make yourself look pretty enough. The fact that Kim Taehyung is going to be there sends butterflies fluttering through your being, your cheeks burning at the thought of him talking to you... holding you... kissing you...
Okay, that's too far, Y/N. Too fucking far.
But an idea pops into your head, just as you're slipping the white sweater over your arms — what if he's the one you're meant for? What if the mark on his skin matches perfectly with yours, a dainty little crescent moon on his wrist? It is possible; his birthday was only around two weeks ago, after all.
What if, what if, what if. Your life is filled with uncertainties and doubts — who's staying? Who's leaving? Who's the one breaking your heart this time around? It's safe to say that Jimin and Namjoon are the only two constants in your equation... along with your future soulmate, that is.
(If you ever end up finding them.)
It's quarter to seven when you push open the double doors of the library, clad in warm jeans and a coat over the sweater you'd decided on earlier. January weather is not too kind, and you probably would have frozen to death if you'd spent a second longer outside.
Sure enough, someone is waving you over to table 17 — it's Jungkook, curly black hair peeking out from under a dark green beanie and sporting a genuine smile. "You came!"
"Hi, Jungkook!" you greet him, not missing the disgusted look on your best friend's face as you take the seat beside him. "Yeah, I couldn't just ignore Jimin when he texted... that wouldn't have ended well for me at all. His temper is a bit, um—"
"I didn't call you here to slander me," Jimin grumbles, kicking your foot weakly. You elbow him in return.
"Glad you could make it, Y/N," a deep voice adds from Jungkook's right.
Of course, it's none other than Taehyung himself, donning a patterned sweater and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He looks like such a boyfriend that you wish he was yours.
"We don't see each other that often, now that I think about it!" he continues. "We should all hang out together more, don't you think?"
But there's something missing when he looks at you, his earnest gaze meeting yours. You brace yourself for something, anything — but it never comes. The euphoric sensation Namjoon described before doesn't hit you, and you're left hollow.
Is Taehyung not for you?
The universe says, no. And yet you can't help but be endeared to his grin, all those little mannerisms he has that you've picked up on, the sweet and caring way he talks to you...
No, you're not in love, and you're certainly not going to spend the whole week crying over the fact that you're not his soulmate. But you're just a little miffed, your heart sinking a bit as his sleeve rides up to reveal a perfect little cloud resting on his skin.
"Yeah," you answer, smiling nonetheless. We definitely sho—ah!"
"You okay?" Jimin asks as you scrunch your face up in displeasure again, wincing mid-sentence. "I'm gonna fucking kill your soulmate for this, you know."
"Not if I beat you to it," you grumble, your legs still throbbing from the sharp impact. "I swear they're always hurting themselves."
"Sounds like Yoongi," Taehyung chuckles. "I already feel bad for his soulmate, he walks like he's drunk if he hasn't had at least one cup of coffee each hour."
You scoff. "Min Yoongi and his coffee addiction," you say, rolling your eyes. "He makes it seem like such a big deal. He's literally an adult, like, deal with it."
"How come you hate him so much?" Jungkook asks curiously. "Like, he's not the friendliest person around, but..."
"Precisely," you huff. "He's so... it's a wonder he's even living as a part of today's society! It's like he's an old grumpy dude who's resolved to be as anti-social as possible for the rest of his life and it's so. Annoying. The one time I said hi and tried to start a conversation with him, he literally told me not to waste oxygen and walked away."
Jimin exhales. "Damn."
"Right? And I don't know how Jungkook and Tae find him so likable and shit when all he does is make anyone else who tries to talk to him feel like a stupid fool. I mean, really? Now I feel like a total idiot."
"For the record, you're not."
You whirl around at the new voice, startled at the sight of a brown-haired guy before you, coffee cup in hand, and you have absolutely no words.
Had Yoongi been standing behind you the entire time you were shit-talking him?
But that's not even the worst of it — the real issue here is that all of a sudden you feel like you're flying, your heart soaring higher than any bird, your breath taken away in all of one second. Is he? Is it possible? Is he actually?
You refuse to believe it, shock coursing through your veins. It can't be him. "Which one of you... which one of you is it?"
Jungkook and Jimin give you confused looks, while Taehyung stares blankly, trying to comprehend the situation. "You okay?"
"Y-yeah..." You're breathing quickly now, heart racing a thousand miles an hour but your mind repeating words of denial like a mantra. No, no, no, no, no.
But when you finally gather up the courage to look up into Yoongi's eyes, you're rendered speechless again, because he's mirroring your expression back to you, completely gobsmacked.
He's looking at you the way you've always wanted Taehyung to look at you, like you're his entire world and nothing else, but you know it's just a farce. The fact that you're suddenly enraptured by his presence disgusts you, knowing that this is only temporary and he'll go back to being cantankerous in just a few minutes. You're desperately wishing this is one big prank the universe has decided to play on you both, that the ink on your wrists will go back to being black like they used to.
But no. They continue to shine silver, glittering under the soft lights.
Your brain still refuses to process this information, but you don't need to see the mark on Yoongi's skin to know that unfortunately, he's the one for you, whether you like it or not. You're going to have to spend your life with someone you'd rather you'd never met at all.
Funny how just one gaze can completely change your life, for the absolute worst.
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taglist: @meiadore @kimnamjoonluvbot
taglist is still open! send an ask if you'd like me to add you <3
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next | series m. list | main m. list
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jjiimin · 8 months ago
the likelihood of being on your mind
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summary: you don’t think about jeon jungkook that often, but when you do, it’s always followed by feelings of antipathy. and really, why think of him when you could be thinking about soccer captain, kim seokjin instead? you have your heart set on seokjin. there is nothing you want more than to make him yours. but of course, jungkook has to throw a wrench in it. 
genre: fluff; a little angst but like, not really; childhood friends/neighbours to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, college au
warnings: arguments, a small physical altercation, degrading names, mentions of parental separation / divorce
word count: 18.2k
author’s note: this fic was changed several times because i just could not decide what direction i wanted to take it. it’s the longest thing i’ve written on here as of yet but i hope it doesn’t drag. please enjoy it a lot! likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated, thank so you so much! sidenote: some readers may not find the oc/jungkook and/or their actions ‘agreeable.’ they are meant to frustrate you, annoy you, aggravate you. i think characters which pull these sort of feelings from you, as well as love, kindness, and change, are important in story-telling. happy reading~! :] 
“You look good today, YN.” 
The comment makes you smile, although, you don’t bother glancing at the boy sitting next to you on the hot bleachers and instead, continue focusing on the field where a vicious soccer match unfolds. Though, seeing as it would be rude, and totally off-brand of you, to completely ignore the poor guy, you retort, “I know,” and smile brightly while looking ahead. 
The truth is, you do look good. 
It’s a sweltering hot mid-September day. The forecast had written the day off as one of the hottest for the autumnal season. While newscasters and weather reporters exhausted their efforts to explain the disastrous effects of such a day coming about entirely as a result of global warming, you took it as a means of pulling out your new baby blue gingham dress. You were dressed to impress with your massive sunhat, espadrille wedges, and gold, daisy-shaped locket. You had taken a variety of Instagram-worthy photos to document the outfit, too (which, unsurprisingly, had earned over sixty thousand likes since this morning).
So really, it came as no surprise when your (soon-to-be-ex) boyfriend commented on your fashion. Not that you care much, but it’s nice to be complimented. 
The scoreboard reads Home: 3 and Visitor: 1. There is a strong chance your university’s varsity boys’ soccer team is going to take home today’s win. They had spent all summer training long and hard for it. It was well-deserved, especially seeing as how lazily the other team was playing. Their members hardly played with any grit or purpose, instead opting to pass the ball along in weak strides which mistakenly landed them one goal against your school’s team. Yet, despite its boringness, you were determined in watching it all unfold. 
The boy next to you speaks up again. “You’re really invested in today’s game,” comments Max. “I’ve never seen you look so interested in a sport.” 
You grin, finally looking over at him. “Well, of course I am. How else will I scope out my new boyfriend?” 
Max’s eyes widen comically. You bite back a laugh and feign ignorance, reaching for the roller perfume in your purse. Just because you were outside in the hot sun did not mean you had to smell like you were outside in the hot sun. One roll of Miss Dior Blooming Bouquet would do the trick, leaving you smelling like an angel. 
But as you pass over the cold roller on your left wrist, Max catches it tightly. You frown, looking down at where he has you in a vice grip. You think about shaking him off but resist the urge to cause a scene. After all, your mother always taught you to remain civil in public spaces. Why allow another person to make a fool out of you in front of strangers? It simply wouldn't be appropriate. 
Max’s eyes are fuming as you meet their gaze. Yours, however, remain nonchalant. Unworried. As you have been all through your relationship. The beginning, the middle, the end — you have been the conductor of it all. Just because he hasn’t known this, does not mean you would would give in at the last moment. A single sign of weakness could equal disastrous consequences. 
“What the fuck does that mean?” 
“It means,” with each word you utter, you pry one bony finger of his off your dainty wrist, “we’re done. Because I’m breaking up with you.” 
“But —” he stops short, his gaze crumbling. His eyes search yours for some kind of answer but finds none. He feels like the world is falling apart under his feet. “But, why?! Is it because I was late to our last date? It was only by five minutes! I couldn’t find parking!” When you stay quiet, he sputters out, “Is it the way I dress? My mom said the school-prep look is important at university. But I can change it to something you like. I promise I can!” 
You turn to him and smile, though it’s hollow. “Max,” a hand wraps around his as you look at him carefully. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m bored. I need to move on now. We had some fun times together, but now it’s time to let go. It’s not like we were planning to marry each other. Lets end on good terms, okay?” 
You pat his hand as a final goodbye and stand up just as the scoreboard lights up with your school’s name. Your school has won their first match of the season. The soccer team members chase one another around the field in a show of victory and elation as the crowd whoops and hollers. It was a good game. You can already tell what tomorrow’s school paper headline will say. Not that you’d be reading it. Twitter would likely encapsulate the entirety of the game in less than 280 characters. 
You hop down the bleachers as the crowd begins to disperse, careful not to lose your footing. Behind you, Max stays stuck in his position, confused and sad. You almost feel bad for the guy and contemplate turning around to make amends, but broad shoulders and jersey number 37 stops you. 
The man of your dreams is on the field, shaking hands with the members of the opposing team. He’s taller than most of them, granting him an appeal other girls (and you) swoon over. You clutch your purse and straighten your back, gaze trained in his direction. 
Time to get myself a new boyfriend, you think giddily. 
Unfortunately, your path crosses with another before you can get within five feet of the man you’re thinking about. You bump into someone as they’re running down the field, grinning from ear-to-ear, oblivious to you. You scowl at them. 
“Watch where you’re--” 
The person in question turns around. Your scowl immediately deepens. 
You roll your eyes. “Jeon, you’re in my way.” 
The man--or should you say man-child--in front of you grins cheekily. 
“In your way?” He looks around. “But you’re on the soccer field. Where would you be going--oh.” 
Some ways ahead, the man of your affections is now done shaking hands with the opposing team and is being patted on the back by his soccer coach who is beaming with pride. You sigh inwardly. He’s so gorgeous. 
“Hyung is too good for you, you know.” 
It’s your father’s fault. 
You could have gone all your life without knowing Jeon Jungkook if it had not been your father’s overly extroverted self who reached out to your new neighbours that fretful summer day ten years ago. Without even asking your mother or you about inviting strangers over for dinner, your father went ahead and booked your whole night away. A night you had planned on reading the new Harry Potter installment.
Instead, what you got was a night of not quite getting to know a boy who refused to talk. At ten years old, Jeon Jungkook was as quiet as they came. His mother wrote it off as him being shy but you thought he was strange. 
First of all, his hair was ludicrous. It was much too long and cast over one eye, like he was the main character in an anime, which, he adored watching, according to his parents. Jungkook had an entire collection. His father often took business trips to Japan and would bring him back anime memorabilia, which only aided his obsession. But when you asked him what anime was his favourite, he wouldn’t answer. Though when you told him yours (Sailor Moon, of course!), he whispered “lame” under his breath, thinking you couldn’t hear. 
Then, it was his picky eating. Your mother had prepared a fancy meal for your guests, but Jungkook, rude as he proved himself to be, picked apart everything. The rice was bland, the salad was icky, the side dishes were weird. He hated everything and made it known to his parents who apologized every time he made a face. It stunned you. Since you were a toddler, you had hated peas and carrots. But your mother made you eat them anyway and explained that well-mannered people always showed gratitude for the food they are given by eating all of it. But here was Jungkook outwardly showing dislike for the food your mother slaved over. 
The final straw came when Jungkook finally did talk, only to insult your singing. 
As a treat to your parents, you and your vocal coach had been preparing a special song. You had worked on it for weeks. Your vocal coach told you she was very proud of your achievements. You had even changed into a new, lilac dress for the occasion. 
At first, you were a bit hesitant to sing in front of your new neighbours. After all, they didn’t know you. You were afraid of what they would say. But when your mother took you into the kitchen and explained how valuable this opportunity was to get over stage-fright, you straightened your back and delved forward. You were going to knock the strangers’ socks off. 
But much to your dismay, halfway through the chorus of My Heart Will Go On, Jeon Jungkook covered his ears in an obnoxious display of misery. His mother tried to force his hands down but he denied her, using his once quiet voice to confess how horrid you sounded to him. 
So, you started to cry and your father had to carry you to your room while your mother and Jungkook’s mother apologized to one another by the front door. 
That was the day you decided to hate Jeon Jungkook forever. 
Though your parents and his remained good friends, whenever you were forced to share the same air, you would only watch movies silently in the living room while the adults socialized at the kitchen table. You refused to acknowledge him when you jumped rope on the driveway or rode your bike around the block. When school started, you got put in the same class but never told a soul that you knew him. 
Years passed and the both of you grew up, and grew into your personalities. By the end of middle school, you had completely forgotten that you didn’t like him. The various boys you dated and extra-curricular activities kept you too busy. Jeon Jungkook was so far off your radar, he was practically nonexistent. 
It was around the middle of sophomore year when Jungkook fell back into your life as he began dating your frenemy, Melissa. Melissa was the aspiring queen bee who hoped to take over from her predecessor, Yoona, a graduating senior. You and Melissa never got along but pretended to for the sake of keeping up appearances. After all, a selfish, bitchy queen bee was so old-school. It was all about feminism and buying dresses from ethical fashion brands now (though, truthfully speaking, you did buy a dress or two from Zara every now and again. No one needed to know that, however). 
When Melissa began dating Jungkook, and announced it to the school via Twitter, you had scoffed. The tweet was posted during your history hour, though seeing as you were already at the top of your class, you weren’t really worried about your teacher scolding you for using your phone. Melissa had posted a picture of the two of them together at a park, her long arms around Jungkook as she smiled pointedly for the camera. Me and Jungkookie at the park, the caption read, ending with a million purple hearts. 
 You weren’t quite sure what to make of it. For years, Jeon Jungkook had been your annoying, pesky, and not to mention, rude, next-door-neighbour. At school, he had been a geeky perfectionist who one-upped everyone he met. Now, all of a sudden, he was one of the boyfriends in your friend circle. He was there when you didn’t want him to be, talked to you like you were old friends, and smiled at you playfully whenever the occasion arose. It was weird. 
Although, it only lasted five months. 
By the time summer holidays came around, Melissa had latched onto some college freshman who was playing with fire by dating her underage ass, but she was happy. She dumped Jungkook on the last day of school, which meant you spent the first two weeks of summer watching him mope around his front yard shooting basketballs and occasionally sitting on the front porch listening to music. 
Then, you went away for the remainder of the summer, spending the next two months at your cousin’s beach house on the west coast. When you came back, windswept hair, shining skin, and two more inches to your height, you were astonished to find that you were not the only person who had gone through a massive glow up. 
No longer was Jeon Jungkook the weird neighbour you could not stand. Suddenly, he was hot. 
He became the talk of your school come the first day of school. People circulated rumours about his glow up being attributed to Melissa dumping him months prior while others claimed ‘puberty hit him like a fucking truck.’ Either way, Jeon Jungkook rose to fame at your high school by way of his good looks at first, then totally owned the students and staff when he tried out for the boys’ soccer team and became captain one month in. 
Poor Melissa moved away before school began and didn’t even get to gloat about how she had dated him once. 
With Jungkook’s newfound popularity came oozing confidence that sleazed its way into your life. Whenever Jungkook wasn’t busy acing his classes or winning soccer matches, he was tormenting you. Friendly ‘pranks’ became something for you to worry about every day you stepped outside your house. He would leave whoopee cushions on your chair, toilet paper your bedroom by telling your mother you had to study together when you weren’t home, left fake bugs in your lunch, and even went as far as to text your then boyfriend, Jung Hoseok, that you were secretly in love with his best friend, a guy who went to a different school and who’s name you didn’t really care to remember. 
High school with Jungkook was madness and torture. You prayed for the day you would get away from him. For a long time, you even wished some poor girl would take mercy on your soul and date him, just so he’d have something else to do with his spare time. But as fate would have it, Jeon Jungkook seemingly refused to date any girl that came his way. He was stuck on you, and not in a good way. 
And, albeit foolishly, you had thought you had finally gotten the chance to get away from him when college application results started pouring in. You were so excited to get into your first choice school which had the best pre-med program in the country. But your heart plummeted when your parents and Jungkook’s decided to throw you two a celebration party in honour of both your admissions at Aberdeen University. 
Once university began, you avoided Jungkook like the plague. 
Until now, when he was absolutely unavoidable. 
You roll your eyes at the boy. “No one is too good for anyone, Jeon.” You straighten your back. “And Kim Seokjin is definitely not too good for me.” 
“Do you even know what positions we play?” He asks, testing you. 
“Jeon, I could care less about what you did to help the team win,” you mutter, “even less so about what position you play.” 
He smirks. “Well, what about hyung’s position? Don’t you care about that?” 
“The only position I care about him being in is my boyfriend,” you tell him matter-of-factly. “Anything else is fluff.” 
“I see your confidence with men has yet to lose momentum.” 
“And I see you’re still standing here talking to me.” 
As you walk away, a little sway to your hips, you feel a pair of eyes watching you go. Jeon Jungkook might hate your guts, and you his, but he is still a man. A boy, really. You could care less about what he thinks of you, but it’s nice to feel his gaze on your back as you head for parking lot. Up ahead, Seokjin is gone, most likely to shower, change, and go home. You’ve lost your chance to talk to him today. But not all hope is gone. 
You still have tomorrow. 
Tomorrow you will get your win, you’re certain.  
Professor Robinson is evil. 
While he is not evil in the way would describe it (i.e., immoral, the opposite of good, etc.), in the sense that he has done something unjust towards you, he is, however, pure evil for what he has not done. And what he has not done is allow you to sit across Kim Seokjin while he describes the biggest, most important project of the term your class would be working on. 
It’s September. 
The first month of the new academic year. It’s a month of new beginnings, new hopes, and the fruition of last year’s hard work. It is the month you are going to make Kim Seokjin yours even if your professor has placed you on opposite ends of the classroom. 
“Alright, class, listen carefully,” Professor Robinson starts, clapping his hands for attention. “As I mentioned in last week’s lecture, you will spend the next three months embarking on your very first term project as a drama student. This project, while long and strenuous, is meant to serve as a gateway into the art of film and cinema that, those of you whom wish to pursue film and cinema, will use as a guide for your remaining years with us at Aberdeen University. The film and cinema department prides itself in its students, many of whom who have gone on to write, direct, and/or star in blockbuster hits.” 
A general hum of excitement whizzes through the classroom at the professor’s words. As a drama student, the end goal was to gain experience in the cinematic arts worthy enough for the likes of Hollywood and beyond. Everyone in the classroom had high hopes of landing a debut role or directing an Oscar award-winning film. 
You, on the other hand, just wanted to pass the class and move on. 
It was not that you held a particular disdain for film and cinema, it was just that, this class was meant to serve as an elective course to bump your GPA. You were a pre-med student. Your interests lay in biology and all the gross human things most people passed over while binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy or The Good Doctor. 
Film and Cinema: Filmmaking Basics, fascinating as it was to some, was a joke course. had given Professor Robinson a 4.7 rating. The university course selection page described the class as ‘fun, interesting, and easy to ace.’ But two lectures in, and you were already feeling bored and uninterested. That is to say, until Kim Seokjin walked into your class. 
Tall, broad-shouldered, gorgeous Kim Seokjin who walked into the third class of the semester with an apologetic look on his face as he explained his absence to the professor. There was total silence as the two spoke, as everyone seemed intrigued to know what the new guy was saying. Broken and hushed speech told you he hadn’t attended the previous two lectures due to scheduling conflicts. Apparently, his soccer coach had wanted him there at try-outs to scope out fresh meat. Being captain of the team meant he could take days off and his professors would make exceptions. 
Your infatuation with Kim Seokjin began like a firework. Seeing him for the first time set a fire inside you that exploded into pretty shapes and colours. You had fallen in love at first sight and you were not the least bit embarrassed. Seokjin was a sight to behold and your eyes could not stop beholding. 
Not even as Professor Robinson goes on to explain that every group would need to find a “film focus.” A film focus, as described by your professor, was a central focus of your film. A person you would be showcasing through the art of film. The general rules were that they had to be a consenting adult and that they signed a waiver allowing you to film them. It sounded simple enough up until Professor Robinson decided to throw a wrench into things. 
“Not only must your film focus allow you to film them showcasing their life, you must also include a segment at the end with yourself as a focus. Since you will be spending ample time with your film focus, it is important that you are able to describe to me what they have taught you. This segment must be at least three minutes long and shown only at the end of your film.” 
You have one thought on your mind and it includes one Kim Seokjin. Your eyes double down on the boy sitting on the opposite end of the classroom, hastily taking notes as Professor Robinson begins taking questions. The moment the bell rings you know what you need to do: corner Seokjin until he agrees to be your film focus. 
It was a good enough plan: ask Seokjin to be your film focus, focus on him and have him, in turn, focus on you, which would then lead to him falling in love with you, dating you, proposing, having a wedding on a beach in Tanzania, then settling down in a fancy, multimillion dollar mansion with gold coasters in every room of the house and kids who wore Gucci shoes to school. 
Really, it was simple. 
Until it wasn’t. 
While you had been thinking about speaking to Seokjin as soon as class let out, someone had already jumped the gun and done it. Someone who had faster access to him and a dart-board with your name on it (you tell a girl her boyfriend slid into your DMs with the intent of bedding you just once, out of the goodness of her heart, and it brands you to her hit-list). Because by the time class ends and you have maneuvered your way over to the other side of the classroom, Seokjin is already agreeing to his desk mate’s proposal. 
“I’m sorry, YN,” he apologizes, looking every bit as sorry as his words relay. “But I already promised Ella I’d be her film focus.” 
Next to him, Ella shoots you a displeasing look, as if one more word from you would steal her precious film focus away (as she assumed her boyfriend went, not that you had given that loser a moment of your time). You almost catch yourself rolling your eyes but smile prettily for Seokjin’s sake. No point in showing off your bad side to the most perfect man on the planet. Good attracts good and you want to be his best. 
“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I’m sure I’ll find someone else.” 
A light goes off in Seokjin’s head. “Actually, I may be able to help you out. My roommate is a comp-sci major. He’s also our team’s midfielder. I’m sure you could use him as your film focus. He’s a really interesting guy.”
You frown. “A computer science major who plays soccer? I don’t know...” You bite your lip. “Does he do anything else?” 
Seokjin pulls out his phone and smiles. “You should ask him yourself. Let me give you his number.” 
Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you notice a trail of messages in a group chat labelled bitches wishin’ they were witches. Your best friends were sending text after text, but you paid it no mind. It was either related to a cute boy they saw at a café or a new episode of their current favourite kdrama, It’s Okay To Not Be Okay. Kim Soohyun seemed to have that affect on girls. 
Seokjin reads the number aloud as you begin hitting the appropriate buttons. “1 9 9 7 0 9 — ”
A name pops up on your phone before you finish typing the number. A grimace overtakes your features. You look up at Seokjin warily. 
“Your roommate is...Jeon Jungkook?” 
Seokjin lights up like a Christmas tree. 
“Yeah! Do you know Kook?” 
You bite the inside of your cheek. “Unfortunately.” 
The boy in front of you frowns. “Huh?” 
You shake your head, slipping your phone into your pastel pink purse. The last thing you want to acknowledge in front of your crush is your perfect distaste for his friend. Most boys don’t like it when their girlfriends dislike their friends. You would keep your thoughts about Jungkook to yourself until you had roped Seokjin in far enough that he’d never let go. It’s all about priorities. “Nothing. Jungkook’s your roommate, hmm? Interesting...” 
Seokjin smiles warmly again. “You should give him a call, seeing as you have his number already. He’s always willing to help people out. I’m sure you could easily get him to be your film focus.” 
You sigh. 
The last thing you want to do is spend time with the Devil’s spawn (no offence to Jungkook’s mom, she’s lovely), but you need Kim Seokjin and you need an A. 
Perhaps killing two birds with one stone is in your fate. 
As it turns out, Jeon Jungkook is not as ‘willing to help people out’ if said ‘people’ includes you. 
It’s Saturday afternoon and the sun is beating down your back as you stand on Jungkook’s porch holding a video camera. Your pink dress sticks to you like glue and with the way you’re perspiring, you wish you hadn’t left the comfort of your air-conditioned apartment at all today. Your cat, Wendy, was probably enjoying the best nap of her life at the moment as you stood here and suffered. 
Jungkook, on the other hand, looks obnoxiously amused at your discomfort. You wonder if Seokjin is around. 
“To what do I owe the pleasure, YN?” 
You purse your lips. “Look, Jeon, I—” 
He points to himself. “My name is Jungkook.” 
You stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “Fine, yeah, whatever. Look, Jungkook, I need you to do me a favour, okay?” 
Jungkook leans against his door. “When people go out looking for favours, they usually don’t act so terribly with the giver of said favours.”
“I’m sorry.” 
He beams and you curse him to the high heavens in your head. “That’s better. Now, do you want to come inside? You look...rather uncomfortable.” 
You nod, stepping inside his air-conditioned home. 
You don’t know what you were expecting Jungkook’s college student house to look like, but the place you just entered is unquestionably different to any image you had in your head of it. To start things off, there is an actual shoe rack by the door. With shoes on it and not around it. You can’t remember a day in your life when Jungkook didn’t fling his shoes by the door of his house or yours as kids before racing inside like he was on fire. 
Next, the living room adjacent to a glowing kitchen, is tidy and bright. There are three large windows overlooking the front yard and blinds which have been raised up so the afternoon sun may shine in. There is a burgundy, L-shaped faux leather sofa and two massage chairs with a massive 17 inch LGTV hanging above the fireplace. A plush brown carpet is spread over the wooden floorboards and a modern lighting fixture hangs above on the ceiling.  
You gawk at the scene so openly that it makes Jungkook chortle. 
“You’re going to catch flies,” he jests. 
You drop your bag by the sofa and find him filling a glass with orange juice in the kitchen. “Is it even possible for flies to live here? This place is so clean.” 
“Jin hyung and I like to keep it that way,” he tells you, passing you the glass. “Just in case we bring girls home.” 
You sputter around the rim of the glass, but compose yourself. “What girl is going to care about the state of the room if she’s going home with Kim Seokjin?” 
Your joke, which you found all too funny, doesn’t make Jungkook laugh. Instead, you notice him suck in his cheeks and stare blankly at you. You know you’re no Dave Chappelle, but even a chuckle from him would have sufficed. 
You set your glass on the kitchen island and turn to Jungkook. “I need to talk to you about a project I’m doing for my drama class.” 
“Is it the project where you have to pick a film focus?” 
You point finger guns at him. “That’s the one. Jin told you about it?” 
“He mentioned it, yeah. He said you might ask me to be your film focus.” 
You nod. “It’s not really a big deal. I just need to film you doing some regular day to day things and ask you a few questions. I really need an A in this class so I might go Legally Blonde on your ass a bit.” 
“You mean you’re going to film me in a pink bikini?” 
You blush. “Shut up.” 
Jungkook chuckles, turning towards his kitchen cabinets. He rummages around for a bit before pulling out two small plates. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Wait, just like that? No excuses for why you can’t? No requests or demands?” 
He pauses from separating the plates for a moment. “I do have one demand.” 
You exhale. “Okay, shoot.” 
“You can’t date Jin hyung while we’re working on this project.” 
You know you look as taken aback as you feel. 
“What kind of demand is that?” 
“My demand,” he tells you, nonchalantly. “If you want me to help you, that is.” 
“But your demand is’s so...” 
“It doesn’t make any sense. What does it matter to you if Jin and I date?” 
He finishes separating the plates and reaches for the refrigerator door. “It matters to me because if you two date, then I’ll be forced to spend even more time with you than I already have to for this project. Too much YN isn’t great for my health.” 
“You’re such a jerk,” you sneer, “I don’t know if I even want your help anymore.” 
You huff and turn on your heel, heading for the sofa where you dropped off your bag earlier. As you bend down to pick up your bag, the video camera around your neck bounces against your chest. The action grounds you in place. Not agreeing to Jungkook’s demand puts you back at square one. You have been at the university for only a few weeks. You hardly know anyone interesting enough to spend time filming. Max is the only other person you know at school, and after this past week’s events, you know he’s added you to his hit list, too. 
“Okay, fine,” you give in. “I won’t date Jin while we work on my project. Does that make you happy?” 
Jungkook grins at you from the kitchen. There’s a row of ingredients lining the island now. “Let’s start with the first part of your video: Jeon Jungkook in his natural habitat.” 
You turn on your camera and press record, careful to keep it focused and not shaky. The last thing you need is for Professor Robinson to dock points for amateur filming. “Your natural habitat is when you’re trying to be a pro-gamer, though.” 
He frowns. “Besides that. I’m really into cooking, as well. Today, I’m making kimbap for lunch. Do you know what kimbap is?” 
“It’s a Korean dish, duh. Your mom would bring it over all the time when we were kids.” 
Jungkook lights up. “That’s right! You always liked the fried shrimp kimbap.” 
You raise a brow over the camera. “You remember that?” 
“Of course,” Jungkook answers, failing to notice the warm blush which begins its hike up your cheeks. He’s too busy setting up the seaweed on the bamboo rolling mat. “Mum loved making it for you, too.” 
“I haven’t had it in over two years, I think.” 
“Guess today’s your lucky day because...” Jungkook flies over to the freezer and pulls out a bag of breaded shrimp ready to be fried. He holds it up like a trophy, grinning from ear-to-ear. “I’ve got your favourite right here.” 
You are not quite certain what magic was involved in the cooking process, but by the end of an hour, Jungkook has cooked you the best kimbap you have ever had in your life (even better than his mother’s, but you don’t tell him that). The rice was cooked to sticky perfection, the shrimp crispy and wholesome, and the chilly sauce he used, that was apparently his top secret ingredient, blended the flavours together so well. You could not stop scarfing down the meal until there was practically none left and you felt sick to your stomach. 
That’s when you notice Jungkook hadn’t eaten any himself, except the first piece which he tried for the taste check. An uneasy, almost sad feeling blooms within your belly. 
“You didn’t have any,” you murmur, wiping your mouth with a wet cloth. “I just sat there eating away and you didn’t even reach for one.” 
He smiles at you. “I think I’m full just having watched you eat.” 
You blush. “S-Sorry. I guess I was really hungry.” 
“Or maybe I’m just a really great cook,” he teases, starting to pick up the mess on the island. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me you think so. The expression on your face is enough for me.” 
You scoff, reaching over to grab a few ingredients yourself. You and Jungkook work in silence for a few minutes, picking up utensils, covering dishes, and closing the tops of bottles and putting them back inside the fridge or pantry. You think you’re done until you notice a lone bottle atop the counter. 
“Oh, you forgot the--” you grab the bottle of sesame oil and head for the top cabinet where you saw Jungkook grab it from earlier. Your stupendously short legs once again prove to be useless as you struggle with placing the bottle back. As fate would have it, you begin to stumble backwards. For a split second, you welcome the feeling of hitting solid ground or at least, the back of the kitchen island, but a hard chest pushes into your back and arms which circle your waist hold you upright. You turn just enough to see Jungkook staring down at you. 
“Careful,” he murmurs, gently taking the bottle of oil from your hands and placing it back on the shelf. “You could have fell and cracked your skull open, YN.” 
“Sorry,” you mumble, feeling your heart beating in your throat. You push away from him just as the scent of his cologne fills your nostrils. Has he always smelled this good? “I just wanted to help.” 
He nods, stepping back to give you more space. A silence falls between you. A suffocating silence. All these years having lived next to him, you didn’t even know he cooked. And cooked so well. And wore cologne. Jeon Jungkook wore cologne that smelled nice enough to drive your brain haywire and you didn’t know what to do. 
You notice your video camera sitting idle on the edge of the kitchen island and the evening sun behind it. The blinds are at half-mast now. You wonder when Jungkook had time to lower them. 
“I guess I’ll get going now,” you tell him, walking back to the sofa to grab your bag again. “I’ll text you about the next filming after I edit this.” 
He nods at you, using a cotton rag to wipe his hands. You notice them shaking a bit, as if he’s nervous. You want to question him about it but refrain. This afternoon has been stranger than anything you have experienced with Jungkook in years. You want to leave the house with at least some part of your brain intact. 
As you’re heading to the front door, it smacks open revealing Kim Seokjin in all his glory. He has a backpack slung over his shoulders and a light purple shirt hanging off his body which reads THE OTHER DIMENSION. He smiles brightly at the sight of you. 
“YN!” He nearly hollers your name. After the quietness you just experienced, his voice makes you cringe. You tighten your hold on your cross body purse. “What are you doing here? Did you get started on the drama project already?” 
You nod, holding up your video camera. “I got some footage which I’m going to edit after orgo tonight.” 
“Organic Chemistry, hyung,” Jungkook cuts in, walking over to the two of you. “YN’s a pre-med major, remember?” 
Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow. “Huh. I didn’t know that. Well, good luck then, YN. I hope you do really well on the project. But not too well because I want mine to win the prize.” 
“The prize?” Your eyes widen. “What prize?” 
“Weren’t you paying attention to the prof, YN?” He teases, throwing off his shoes and placing them neatly on the rack by the door. “The best video gets featured at the school’s end-of-year Spring Celebration. The one where they invite all those cool people to talk and there’s a concert and games.” 
“You must really doze off in drama class,” Seokjin jokes. “Anyway, good luck. I haven’t even started my project yet and my film focus is always so busy.” 
“Who is it?” 
“Catherine Wayde,” he tells you, walking over to the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “She’s the swim team captain. I figured it was best to film her since she and I run on similar schedules because of our sports.”
You know who she is. You know exactly who she wants to be to Seokjin, too. Catherine shares English with you on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and talks so animatedly about Seokjin sometimes that you wonder if she has a shrine dedicated to him in her bedroom. You may have the hots for him, too, but she literally worships the guy. You hope he knows what he’s in for with her. 
You lift your gaze to find Jungkook staring at you. Instantly, your heart begins to beat faster. You swallow thickly and reach down to pull your sandals on. It’s gotten quite dark out since Seokjin arrived and now you wonder if it’d be better to call a taxi or just walk back walk to the college dormitory as safely as you could. 
“Kook, you’re going out, too?” 
You turn around at the sound of Seokjin’s voice calling out to his roommate. Jungkook is fishing around in a bowl by the kitchen island. He produces a pair of keys and walks up to the door. 
“I’m going to drop YN off at her dorm. I’ll be back soon,” he tells Seokjin. He turns around to face you. He looks nervous again. “Is that okay? If I drop you off? It’s kind of dark outside and I--” 
“Thank you.” 
Jungkook looks at you and nods. 
You both walk out the door and silently to his car, which happens to be the old Toyota Camry his Dad used to drive when you were both still in high school. You wonder when his Dad passed it along to him. 
You’ve ridden in this car before. 
Back in the days when your parents were too busy to pick you up from school or gymnastics and asked Jungkook’s parents to do so in their stead. Or the days when both your parents were desperate enough to want you two to be friends so badly that on family-friend road trips, they placed you two together with one set of parents in the car and set off on an hours’ long journey where you avoided Jungkook like the plague. As you seat yourself in the passenger seat for the first time, you cannot help but notice all the soccer gear dumped inside. The car is the opposite of what the house looks like. 
Jungkook notices you holding back a chuckle and says, “Go ahead, say it. I know it’s a mess.” 
“Why do I feel like you have a cleaning lady for your house but not your car?” 
“This is my safe space, okay?” He asserts. “I can be whoever I want to be in here.” 
“And who you are is a slob?” 
“I’m going to clean it up tomorrow!” 
You laugh and sit back against the seat, shutting your eyes for a moment. “It feels strange. Being in here, I mean. Sitting in this spot where your mom used to sit.” 
Jungkook backs out of his driveway, checking the rearview mirror. “Dad gave me this car the week before I started school here. He wanted me to have dependable transportation.” 
“Lucky,” you sigh, “my parents want me to use public transportation. Like, they don’t even care that smelly, nasty people sit their dirty butts on those ancient seats and want me to sit there, too. Who even does that?!” 
“Well, you have me,” he tells you, taking you by surprise. “I don’t mind giving you rides if you ever need them. As long as you can stand sitting in a car with me, that is.” 
You laugh, feeling grateful but somehow not being able to word it. “Lets see how today goes.” 
The drive to campus is a short one. Jungkook turns on the radio to a station you remember as the one his parents always had on in the car during those summer road trips. The station only plays old tunes from pre-twenty first century. You never knew the names of the artists but always enjoyed their soulful, sometimes colourful, voices as they swam out from the speakers. 
You don’t realize you’re humming along to one of them until Jungkook breaks you from your reverie. 
“Cat Stevens,” he tells you, “Moonshadow. It was the song they played at your parents’ wedding.” 
You look up at him quizzically. “How on Earth do you know that?” 
“Your parents were telling mine one night when we were around eleven or twelve. I don’t know. It just stuck with me.” 
You smile to yourself, thinking back on your parents. They were all the way on the other side of the country and you never called them enough. Not nearly enough. “They have it on an old record and play it every so often. They always end up dancing along in the living room to it, as well. Dad’s a really bad dancer, but he always so tries hard for my mom.” 
“They’re still in love all these years later. It’s amazing.” 
You nod, thinking about your loved up parents. “It’s rare. But your parents are the same way, right?” 
Jungkook is silent for a minute. You notice how his knuckles tighten around the steering wheel. “Right.” 
Neither of you attempts to make any conversation after that, and a few minutes later, Jungkook’s pulling the car up along the sidewalk overlooking the dormitory buildings. You thank him and begin to gather your things. Once outside, you notice he’s there, too. 
“I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” he says. “It’s dark out now.” 
You almost laugh. “Jeon, I’ve walked back to my dorm at much later times before. All on my own, too. You don’t need to walk me back.” 
“I want to.” He replies. You can’t tell if it’s the streetlights reflecting off his eyes or what, but his eyes appear to glisten. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe at home.” 
The walk to your dormitory is a short one. Usually, at this time of night, there are students running around outside, jumping from dorm to dorm, gathering enough friends to warrant a rager. But tonight sounds like it’s a quiet Saturday in. After the day you have had, you feel thankful for it. 
You and Jungkook stop at your dorm room a few minutes later. You fish out our door key and are just about to push it inside the key hole when you notice a familiar mop of blonde hair in your peripheral vision. 
It’s Max, and he looks pissed. 
It’s only been a week since you broke it off with him, so you knew the inevitable burst of anger and tears was warranted. You just did not have the time for it today. You didn’t want to see him or speak to him or explain the reasons why you had broken it off with him. You just wanted to go inside your room and work on your organic chemistry assignment which was waiting patiently for you on your desk. 
But if you know Max, you know he won’t leave you be unless he has good enough reason to. All of a sudden, a light goes off in your head. 
“Jeon, I need to ask you for another favour,” you call on him, pulling his attention to you. “Don’t freak out okay?” 
He raises a brow. “Okay...” 
“Kiss me,” you request, grabbing onto the end of his sleeve. Your eyes look up at him pleadingly as he stares back down at you as if you’re Medusa with snakes for hair. “Come on. This can’t be your first kiss. Just do it.” When Jungkook still doesn’t move and you notice Max starting to march up to you with his posse of annoying computer nerds, you begin to pull away from him and prepare yourself for the onslaught of vexation from your ex-boyfriend. 
When, all of a sudden, Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist and twists you around. You have all of two seconds to observe the intense look in his eyes before he’s leaning down to kiss you. 
You have dated a lot of boys. Kissed most of them, too. Some of them were good, others were even great. But none, absolutely not a single one, could have prepared you for the way Jeon Jungkook kisses you. The way he holds you in his arms like you were nothing more than a feather ready to fly away. The way he presses into you so softly that you genuinely felt as though your legs would give out. He kisses you with all the gentleness of a flowing river and all the ferocity of a starving man who’s only meal are your lips. 
A gasp bursts from your throat when without warning, Jungkook is being ripped away from you by Max. You expect some sort of fight to break out, a punch be thrown here or there, but nothing of the sort happens. Instead, you find Max staring at Jungkook like he’s Medusa with slithering snakes for hair. 
“Jeon? What the fuck?” Max snarls. “Why the fuck are you kissing my girlfriend?” 
Jungkook looks at you warily. “You’re dating him?” 
You blink, out of sorts with the way things are moving along in your life at the current moment. “Not anymore. W-We broke up last week.” 
“That was not a break up,” Max argues. “You told me you’re leaving me, and for who? Jeon?” 
“Look, man, I--” 
“I knew you were a bitch, but I didn’t know you were a sl--” 
It’s like whiplash, the way Jungkook pushes Max up against the wall of your dorm room. He holds him by the throat, seething. “Finish that sentence and watch what happens.” 
Max bites down on Jungkook’s hand, causing a tear in the skin. It doesn’t even seem to phase Jungkook, who keeps holding on with sheer anger driving him. When Max realizes Jungkook won’t let him go, he starts spluttering, gasping for breath. He dramatizes for a bit before Jungkook finally does loosen his grasp on the shorter man. He coughs, making a show of his nonexistent suffering. “You’re fucking mad, Jeon. Mad for wanting to date the likes of her.” 
“Scram before I really put you in your place, Colton,” Jungkook fumes, voice dangerously low. 
You sneak a peak at him. There is a vein bulging on the side of his head and you can only assume it’s from the anger caused by Max’s presence. You wonder if you should ask him if he’s okay, but he beats you to it. 
“Are you okay?” 
You nod, stepping forward. “You didn’t have to do that. Are you okay?” 
“He’s just an incompetent ass,” Jungkook answers, wringing his wrist out. You want to ask him if he wants some ice, but stop yourself when he continues speaking. “I can’t believe you dated him.” 
“He was nice at first,” you tell him, feeling an odd sense of worry rising in your chest. You have never cared about the way Jeon Jungkook views you before today, but suddenly, you want to defend your choices in front of him. “He’s smart, too.” 
“I know he’s smart, YN. He’s my lab partner.” 
You gawk at him. “I thought you were a compsci major! Why would you have to go to lab?!” 
“I’m doing a minor in chemistry,” he retorts with a heavy sigh. 
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you cry, feeling tears in your eyes. You don’t know why you want to cry, but just that you do. Jungkook looks over, notices, and immediately captures you in a tight hug. He soothes your back with his okay hand, cooing at you softly. You pull away to see the sight of him with worried eyes. 
Without a word, you unlock your door and bring him inside. Thankfully, your roommate is out for the night, so you don’t have to share why you’re bringing a random boy into your room. You sit Jungkook down on your bed and dig around in your freezer for some ice. Once you find it, you start hunting through your kitchen supplies until you find a suitable sized zip-lock bag. 
You walk up to him. “Thanks for um, defending me back there.” 
He smiles. “I know you didn’t need me to.” 
You smile back. “It was nice anyway. I guess I can check off ‘Be saved by a prince’ on my bucket list.” 
He chuckles. “I’d have to be a prince first.” 
You start to hand him the bag of ice than think better of it. Instead, you softly curl your fingers over his pained hand and press the bag to it as gently as you can. He hisses for a second, which causes you to rub your thumb against his skin, soothing him. He watches you as you do so and for some odd reason, it takes you back to the kiss you shared with him earlier. The thought of it brings a blush to your cheeks. You don’t think you have ever blushed with any of your exes as much as you seem to blush around Jungkook. 
“Are you really going to be okay? With Max and all?” 
Jungkook nods. “I can just ask the TA to assign me a new lab partner. I don’t think Colton will dispute it.” 
You nod to show him you understand but a nagging feeling in the back of your throat warns you of your wrongdoing. You were wrong to rope Jungkook into your mess with Max to begin with. What were you even thinking, asking him to kiss you? Even if it was the best kiss you had ever had. 
“I’m really sorry,” you start, biting your lip. “About the kiss. About asking you kiss me. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 
Jungkook stares at you blankly. A trace of hurt crosses over his features. “You’re sorry about the kiss?” 
“I’m sorry for making you kiss me.” 
He bites the inside of his cheek. “You didn’t make me do anything. You asked me to kiss you so I did. No harm done.” 
“Except the part where you did get harmed,” you counter, looking pointedly down at his hand. “I shouldn’t have been so stupid.” 
“Do you really feel that bad about kissing me?” 
Your heart launches it self to your throat. “That’s not--That’s not why I’m saying what I’m saying. Jungkook, I basically forced you to kiss me when you probably didn’t want to and I--”
“I did.” 
“I did want to kiss you.” 
You’re rendered silent by his words for what feels like a century before some words of the English language return your cortex. “You wanted to kiss me?” 
He nods. “Yeah. We’ve known each other all our lives. Haven’t you ever thought about what it would be like if we kissed?” 
In all the years you have known Jeon Jungkook, from the time he made you cry for the first time to all the times he drove you up the wall with his antics, nothing quite left you as speechless as his confession does right now. All these years and he’s wanted to kiss you? How did this little tid bit of knowledge pass you by? How did you miss it? 
“Do you, um, like me or...something?” 
Jungkook takes one look at you and realizes your heart is not, and perhaps will never be, where his has always been. From the moment he walked through your front door at age ten, he knew he was a goner. He does not know if it was the adorable way you introduced yourself to him, confidence pouring from your veins, or the way you sang so horribly off beat to a song most people never even attempted. He just knew he liked you, loved you even, and you were so far out of his league. This, and maybe his own pent up insecurities, was the reason why he never pursued you despite wanting you, sometimes so desperately, that he was willing to give his first kiss to you. 
“No, YN, of course not.” 
Your heart feels like it’s both drowning and stuttering back to life. “O-Okay, I just thought you might, you know...since...yeah.” 
“I was just curious,” he tells you, but his words sound as though they are fighting against his lips from leaving them, “we grew up together. It was just childish curiosity.” 
You lick your lips. “That makes sense.” Then why does it hurt to acknowledge? 
Jungkook stands up. “I’ll get going now. I have some lab work to finish before bed.” 
“Are you going to be okay?” You gesture to his hand. “Driving, I mean.” 
He smiles at you. “It’s just a little bite. I’ll be fine.” He heads for the door, pulling it open to reveal the bright strobe lights of the dormitory corridor. “Text me when you want to film something again. We have a home game in two weeks.” 
You nod and watch him leave. It takes you all of two seconds to decide this isn’t how you want to end the night. You reach for the door. 
Pulling it open, you find that he’s still standing there, staring blankly at your door sign. You don’t give it a second thought and lift up onto your toes, wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. You swallow his surprise with your mouth, trying to find a way to mold your lips to his indefinitely. He kisses you back with fervor and rampant desire, something you have never felt so tangibly with any man before. Kissing him feels like your world is on fire, but you’re okay, you’re alright. All because he’s with you. 
He pulls back after a moment, and breathes heavily. “What--?”
You grin at him, feeling sheepish. “I was curious, too.” 
. . . 
YN: hey, are you busy atm?
Jungkook: no, what’s up? 
YN: finished classes for the day so i thought i could do some film work. you up for it?
Jungkook: sure. but im at the gym. is that ok? 
YN: yep! i’ll be there with my camera in 10 :) 
After your impromptu (and if you think back on it, ridiculously dumb) kiss with Jungkook in front of your dorm room--or should you say kisses, plural, since you planted one on him twice--you had actively avoided Jungkook. You felt like you were ten years old again, sidestepping him at recess and sitting as far away from him as possible inside classrooms. 
You don’t know why you were avoiding him, exactly. After all, you had both agreed the two kisses you shared were wholly for the purposes of quenching your curiosity. Turns out he was right: you two had known each other all your lives. It was only natural to feel certain emotions around each other. Right? 
You didn’t really have time to dwell on the prospect. Not with jumping through hoops to evade Jungkook and all the work you still needed to complete before midterms which were less than a week away. 
Today, however, you wanted to spend some time working on the film project. 
In the back of your mind, you knew finishing it as quickly as possible was the best course of action. Finishing it early meant that you would be left with ample time to focus on your other, more vital coursework. Organic chemistry was already chewing away at your brain like a Skittle, and you didn’t even want to think about anatomy. 
Inside the gym, you find Jungkook by the weights. He’s just setting one down when he sees you. He calls out your name, catching your attention. The sight you find yourself staring at is nothing like what you were prepared to witness. 
You knew Jungkook worked out. He was a gym junkie even in high school. But seeing him with his muscles out on display, sweat dripping off them, while sporting what appeared to be the worst goddamn black shirt in existence as it squeezed itself around his abdomen, was a sight for the sorest of eyes. You felt your heart start beating faster and your fingers go numb. These were not sensations you were used to with Jeon Jungkook. What was happening to you? Did kissing him out of curiosity fry your brain cells? 
“Hey,” he greets you, tapping on an empty chair nearby. “Sit down. I’m nearly done with this set.” 
You reach for your purse. You need something to do or you’re going to lose your mind staring at him this way. “Is it okay if I film you doing your set? For the project, of course!” You feel like an idiot for almost squealing out the last bit. Of course he knows it’s for the project, YN. Stop thirsting over enemy #1. Remember when he made you cry when you were ten? Yeah. Exactly. “Oh, shoot.” 
Jungkook looks up, puzzled. “What’s wrong?” 
“I came here to film and I forgot to bring my video camera.” 
“Just use your phone.” 
He smiles kindly. “Use your phone to film and then transfer it over to your computer later for editing. It might not reflect the shape of the video camera footage, but variety might score you some points with your professor.” 
You tilt you head to peer at him in awe. “Jeon Jungkook, are you a closet video editing nerd, too?” 
He grins, “Maybe.” 
You do as he says and press down on your camera app, sliding over to the video icon. You press record and hold the camera up, pointing it at your film focus. 
“So Jeon, why do you like to work out?” 
He wraps his hands tight around the ends of the weight. “Working out helps me release stress.” 
“It does? How?” 
“When I work out, I pour all my negative feelings into the exercise instead of reaching for say, a can of beer or binge-eating an entire box of pizza. Working out helps you move towards a goal.” 
“And what’s the goal?” 
“To be strong.” 
Your arm is beginning to ache as you hold the phone up. “Why do you want to be strong?” 
“So nothing can hurt me.” 
You pull your arm down, taking the camera with you. “Hurt you? Who’s hurting you?” 
He lifts the heavy weight over his body for a few seconds then lowers it. “No one. I’m speaking in general terms.” 
“You’re speaking in general terms about yourself?” 
He sighs, placing the weight carefully on the rack. “Yeah, YN. People do that sometimes.” 
“Are you...” you bite your lip, watching his chest rise and fall. “Are you okay? I mean, like in your personal life and stuff? Is everything okay?” 
He raises a brow. “You’re asking me if everything’s okay in my personal life?” 
“I mean, you kind of gave me reason to ask.” 
“It’s fine, I’m fine.” He tells you, standing up. “I’m gonna go shower now. We can continue this after I’m done.” 
He leaves you sitting there while you stare at his retreating back. 
Never, in all the years you have known him, has Jeon Jungkook looked and sounded to utterly sad. His words sometimes held bite, but they always masked in playfulness because that’s who Jungkook was: a prankster, a joker, someone you could rely on to lighten the mood. 
What had happened in the last few days to change his mood so drastically? 
You want to ask him. You have never been afraid of confronting your old neighbour, and daresay, childhood friend about anything before. Not the ridiculous pranks he pulled, not about the games you knew he was cheating in, and not about the way he studied so you could emulate it yourself. 
But this, right now, whatever this is scares you. A lot. 
You can handle ‘too much to handle’ Jungkook. But sad, bitter, and hurting Jungkook is a ballpark you have never experienced. 
And this makes you sad.
The boy you grew up alongside, shared countless hours and years with, someone who made you laugh as much as he exasperated you, was hurting and you don’t know the first thing about fixing it. 
But maybe, someone else does. 
You quickly shuffle your belongings and gather them in your arms, hurrying for the gym doors. You shoot Jungkook a text to let him know that something’s come up so you’ll reschedule with him about filming. Then, you head for Paxton Library, the largest book and information centre on campus. 
You know you can find some answers there. 
. . . 
You find the person you’re looking for on the sixth floor of the building.
He has his back up against a shelf of books as he focuses on his cellphone. You manage to catch a glimpse of a car-racing game on the screen.
You drop your bag on the floor next to him and wait for him to notice your presence.
“Hey, YN,” he greets you without a single glance thrown your way.
You blink. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Your perfme.”
You sniff your shirt. It smells like the usual: vanilla and strawberries; a signature scenet of yours. “You can tell who a person is just by the smell of their perfume?”
“No, just you. You seem to shower in that stuff.”
“Okay, first of all, rude. And second, Kim Seokjin, I’ll have you know the perfume I’m wearing is quite expensive.”
“Uh huh.”
“It is!”
A sharp ‘shh’ sounds through the book shelves. You notice a librarian staring you down with an unpleasant expression. You hold back on rolling your eyes. When you look back at your conversation partner, you notice he’s paused his game.
“What’s up?”
You cross your legs and pull your bag onto your lap. You rummage around for a while and pull out your anatomy notebook, opening it up to a new page. “I need you to tell me everything you know about Jungkook.”
Seokjin raises a brow. “What?”
“He’s like a closed book these days,” you explain. A thought comes to you. “No pun intended.”
“Okay, so what do you want me to do about it?”
“I want you to help me.”
“How am I supposed to help you?”
You tap your pencil against the page. “Tell me what you know about him. Everything you can think of.” When Seokjin drags a long look between your notebook and your eyes, you sigh. “Come on, Jin. There’s got to be more to you than your good looks. I’m sure you know something I can work with. My film project is at stake here.”
“How are you going to insult me and ask for my help at the same time?”
“Because I know you’re going to help me anyway.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you owe me.”
“And how exactly do I owe you?”
“Because after this, I’m going to take you out for ramen at that fancy restaurant on Franklin Avenue.”
Jin blinks. “That doesn’t make sense. Isn’t that you owing me?”
You pout. “Jinnie, please.” You poke his cheek with the eraser end of your pencil. “I promise never to insult you again.”
“Can we get frozen yogurt after?”
“Sure, sure. So will you do it?”
He reaches forward and shuts your notebook. “Jungkook’s parents are separated.”
You blink. “Um…”
“I’m just cutting to the chase. I want my ramen and you want your answer. So here it is: Kook’s been extra pissed lately because his parents are living separately for the time being. His mom’s at home and his dad’s staying with a friend.”
“Why, though?”
Seokjin shrugs. “They had some sort of fight about Kook’s mom being friends with a male coworker.”
“How long ago did this happen?”
“Maybe two weeks ago? Kook’s been on the phone with his mom a lot lately. He says she’s fine. He won’t talk to his dad, though.”
“His dad’s a really nice guy.” You bite your lip. “Are they getting a divorce? Is that why he’s so upset?”
“His dad kicked him out when Kook went to visit him last Sunday. That’s probably why he’s so on edge. He feels torn between his parents.”
You sigh, leaning your head against the bookshelf behind you. “I was with him earlier. Before I came here. We were doing some film work at the gym and he said he wanted to get stronger so nothing could hurt him.”
“Must be his relationship with his dad then. Did you know that Kook basically worships him?”
You do know.
Throughout your childhood, Jungkook spoke so highly and brightly of his father that it made you think there could be no father in the universe better than him (except your own). In his preteen years, Jungkook’s dad spent a lot of time with him playing soccer. It was probably one of the biggest reasons why Jungkook was so heavily invested in the sport now. He viewed the sport as homage to the days he spent with his dad. You would always see them playing around with the ball on their front yard. One time, when you were around thirteen or fourteen, his dad saw you playing hopscotch on your driveway and invited you to play with them. Jungkook, vehemently against you coming anywhere near his precious soccer ball, told his dad girls suck at sports. His words made you so angry that you not only played soccer then, but almost every day with them there afterwards until your mom put you in piano classes, alongside your vocal lessons, which took up all your non-essential time.
Jungkook’s relationship with his father was unique and beautiful. In a lot of ways, that relationship is pivotal to the man your childhood friend is now.
It hurts you to think that the same relationship is now making Jungkook’s heart bleed.
You look at Seokjin. “Did you know I grew up with Jungkook?”
His eyes widen. “What? Really? How?”
“We’re neighbours,” you explain, “back at home anyway. Growing up, our houses were right next to each other. Jungkook and I spent a lot of time together as kids even though we practically hated each other.”
“Kook doesn’t hate you.”
You scoff. “Yeah, okay.”
“No, really,” Seokjin presses, “I mean, now that you mention it, a lot of Jungkook’s stories make sense.”
“What stories?”
“Some things about you guys in your middle and high school years. He never referred to you by name, just said things like ‘There’s this girl I fell in love with when I was younger, hyung. She’s so amazing. You have no idea.’”
“Yeah that’s not…me, Jin. He was probably talking about Melissa. She was his first and as far as I know, only girlfriend.”
Seokjin tilts his head. “Huh. He never mentioned anyone named Melissa. Did she like to sing My Heart Will Go On?”
Your heart stops. “Um…I don’t know. Did he say anything about how she sang it?”
“He said she was horrible.” Your heart has officially stopped working, though Seokjin is excited as ever. “And get this: he said he wants to hold onto his first kiss for her. Can you believe that kid? Well into adulthood and he dreams about love like he’s the main character in a romantic movie. This Melissa must be as amazing as he says she is.”
You feel like you’re going to throw up. But instead, you grab your bag off the ground and stand up. Your legs are shaking but you don’t allow it to hold you back. You need to get out of here.
“Jin, I’m really sorry. I totally forgot I have bio-chem in twenty minutes, so I’ll have to get a rain check on the ramen and fro-yo.” You try your best to smile at him. “Tomorrow, okay?”
He looks at you miserably. “But YN…”
“Tomorrow. I promise.”
“Fine, fine. I won’t keep a budding doctor from missing bio-chem. Imagine that’s the reason you botch a surgery in the future and kill someone? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” He stops for a second. “Wait, what if I don’t get to live? What if you botch my surgery?” He looks at you with wild, dramatic eyes. “Forget the ramen. Promise me you’ll never perform surgery on me.”
You chuckle, but it feels hollow. “I’m pretty sure patients can pick their surgeons in most cases.” You glance back at the elevator doors. “So tomorrow, okay?”
He waves you away. “Yeah, yeah. Go learn something.”
You don’t know what makes you do it, but after you leave the library, you head straight for Jungkook’s place. You find him out on the lawn, kicking a soccer ball around. At the sight of him, all traces of bravery leave you. You don’t know how you’re going to confront him about what Seokjin just told you. You wonder if you should even do it.
He looks up at the sound of your voice. You stomp over to him.
“Hey, YN. I thought you were busy. What’s—“
“You have to lift your dating ban.” Wait, what?
“Dating ban?”
You nod. “The one you placed on me. The one that won’t allow me to date Jin.” What are you saying, YN?
His eyes narrow. “Where’s this coming from?”
“What the hell do you mean ‘where’s this coming from?’” You tap your foot impatiently. This isn’t what you originally came here to say, yet here you are, saying it. Demanding it, really. Demanding he take his demand back. “You know I like Jin. I want to date him. So you…you just have to let me, okay? I’ll accept anything else you ask in order to keep you as my film focus.”
He pushes his tongue up against the inside of his left cheek. His expression reads anger, but he won’t look at you long enough for you to analyze it. “Fine, whatever. Date him for all I care. Stupid of me to ask you not to date him to begin with seeing as how much you like him.”
You nod along. “Yeah, it was. So whatever qualms you have about me hanging around you for longer than necessary, get rid of them, okay? Because I’m going to date Jin.”
“Good.” You stop and breathe for a second. You need to gather yourself and your thoughts. “I still need you as my film focus so pick something else for me to do.”
“No need.”
He finally looks at you. “I’m not going to drop out of this project.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I don’t like to go back on my word.”
“That’s so…” you roll your eyes. “Just tell me what you want, Jeon. Stop acting so holier than thou.”
“’Holier than thou?’” He echoes. “I’m just trying to help you out.”
“Exactly why are you so willing to help me out?”
“Because I can? Do you question every person who helps you?”
“Only when their help makes no sense. Tell me why you’re so willing to help me for nothing in return.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But now that you’re going to start dating hyung, I’ll take this project on as a thank you for making my friend happy.”
“How are you so sure I’m going to make him happy?”
“You have that affect.”
“What affect?”
A deep red begins to bleed into his cheeks. “Just…you make people happy. I’m sure you get that a lot, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise.”
“Do I make you happy, Jeon?”
“I—“ he doesn’t know how an intangible thing such as a verbal conversation was able to choke him like this, but it was. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“A lot,” you tell him, turning on your heel to walk away. “You have a game in two days, right?”
He doesn’t answer so you turn back around. He’s staring at you like he cannot understand you at all. That makes two of you.
“It’s an away game. At Valdorin University.”
You wave your phone in the air. “Text me the details of the location tonight. I’ll be there. I need to get some footage.”
You don’t wait for him to reply and walk back to campus with your heart between your legs.  
. . . 
Jungkook is all smiles and sparkly eyes as you film him in the locker room. You feel like a groupie, following him around with your video camera as the rest of the team hoots and hollers. You ignore them for the most part.
“Jeon, what would you say was the highlight of tonight’s game?”
“Hmm,” he ponders for a second, taking a sip from his orange Gatorade. “When the other team forgot.”
Your brows furrow in confusion. “Forgot what?”
“When they forgot we’re—“ Jungkook spins on his heel to drum the locker room seat. All the other team members seem to catch onto his antics and start stomping their feet. “AU!”
“AU! AU!”
Their shouts of happiness and victory bring a smile to your face. You have never quite understood the fascination with sports or why so many boys lose their minds over it, but being here right now, in a somewhat smelly locker room with a bunch of guys who have made it up the ranks in college soccer, you allow your heart to soar with theirs. A victory is a victory. You relate their joy to the one you feel after every perfect exam score.
As you continue to film the boys, you forget who’s behind you for a moment and bump into Jungkook. His bare chest meets your back and you stumble, losing your footing. Jungkook’s hands grab your waist as he steadies you. You feel your skin burn where he’s touched you. You skin is blazing in all the places you want him to touch you.
“Ohh, Jeon, just because this is a locker room, doesn’t mean you should be getting so steamy with your girlfriend in front of all of us.”
You and Jungkook look up to see a bunch of his soccer teammates grinning away.
“She’s not—“ he glances at you then looks back at his teammates. “YN’s not my girlfriend. Actually, she’s dating Jin hyung.”
You say, “I am?” at the same time Seokjin, from the other end of the locker room goes, “We are?”
Liam, one of the team members you recognize from earlier, slaps Seokjin’s butt with the end of his towel. “Dude, you don’t even know who you’re dating?”
“It’s news to me,” Seokjin mumbles, staring right at you. “YN?”
You scramble. “I mean, I didn’t want to put a label on it just yet…” you smile tightly. “But we had a good time at ramen and fro-yo the other day. Right, Jin?”
He looks so confused. You wish you could tell him the truth telepathically. The poor guy looks like he’s entered another dimension. “I guess…”
You nod. “Right, so. There you go. Jin and…me. Dating. Yes.”
Liam pats Seokjin’s shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “Congrats, man. But ramen and fro-yo on a first date?”
Seokjin rubs the back of his neck. “I mean…she…YN took me. I didn’t—“
“Woah, woah, woah,” someone cuts in. You don’t recognize him. “Are you telling us you didn’t take her out first?”
You don’t know why, but that irritates you. “It’s the twenty-first century. Girls can take guys on dates first.”
The stranger blinks at you. “Yeah, but Jin always takes his girls out first. Not the other way around.”
“Well, maybe things are different with us. Have you ever thought about that?”
The guy shrugs. You notice Liam leaning into Seokjin and whispering, “Feisty…” with wide, mocking eyes.
You pick up your video camera and shut it off. You think you’ve had enough of a testosterone filled locker room. You glance back at Jungkook who has yet to speak a word since he set off a bomb. “I’ll get going now. Thanks for the footage and congrats.”
You don’t wait for him to say anything and walk out.
The heat of the weather hits you all at once, making you wish you had chosen to wear breathable shorts or at least a skirt instead of tight skinny jeans. You peer over at the parking lot a few metres away and start heading towards it. There’s a bus stop close by there, as per Google Maps. You don’t get very far when you stop upon hearing a voice shout your name.
“YN! Wait!”
Seokjin jogs after you.
“Hey, Jin,” you try smiling at him but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I know you’re probably wondering what just happened in there and I—“
“YN,” he says your name like it weighs a million pounds. As though your name alone is disappointing to him. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I told you Kook’s in love with you and you turn around and tell our team you’re dating me. Why?”
“Jeon is not in love with me,” you counter, feeling like you’re going to break out in nervous hives. “I told you you’re mistaken about the girl from his stories. It’s Melissa. Not me.”
“I asked him,” Seokjin explains pointedly. “After you left the library that day, I asked him the name of the girl from his stories. He wouldn’t tell me at first, but after a bit of coaxing, he admitted it. He’s been in love with you since you guys were ten, YN. Ten.”
You gulp. You hate this. You hate every single aspect of this conversation and everything it entails. Everything it means. “So, what?!”
He looks stunned. “What?”
“So what if Jeon’s in love with me? What does it matter? I want to…” you know you should pick your words carefully, but somehow, rational thinking is unavailable for you at the moment. “Look, Jin. Do you want to date me or not?”
He looks at you like you’re crazy. “Are you not listening to me? Jeon Jungkook, my best friend, my roommate, my teammate, is in love with you. Are you seriously asking me whether or not we should date? After knowing all that?”
You stand your ground. “Just say you don’t want to date me and this conversation can be over.”
“Why does the idea of Kook being in love with you scare you so much?”
“No, seriously. Tell me. Is it because you think you hate him?”
“Think I hate him?” You parrot. “I’ve always hated him. That’s literally our dynamic. Jeon and I hate each other.”
“Are you deaf or just not listening to me? I’ve been standing here for the last few minutes telling you he loves you and you’re trying to convince me that you two hate each other?”
“Whatever, Jin. I’m done with this conversation.” You take a step towards the parking lot when he grabs your arm. You sigh, turning back around. “What?”
“I’m going to do something and I want you to tell me how you feel after.”
Seokjin leans down and kisses you. You don’t have much time to react. He kisses you with a softness you’re not quite used to with men. But that’s all it is: soft. It doesn’t feel like…
He pulls back after a second and scans your face. “Not as good as Kook, right?”
You blink up at him. “He—“
“Yeah, he told me. How he kissed you outside your dorm room two weeks ago.” He sighs. “YN, I just did something totally against bro-code, potentially putting my friendship on the line with my best friend. So I need you to get your heart and mind in order, okay? I’m not going to date you. I think you’re a great girl and a lovely classmate. But I’ll never see you as anything more.”
You think back to two weeks ago, when you were so sure Seokjin was going to be your boyfriend. When you had broken up with your ex-boyfriend in order to pursue him. When fate seemed to intervene every time you tried to get closer to him. The girl back then would have taken these words as a challenge. She would have told Seokjin he was wrong and kept pursuing him anyway. She would stand and fight.
The you right now just wants to get on a bus and go home.
But Seokjin doesn’t seem to want to let you do that either.
“Let me take you home, okay?” He says, reaching over to give you a hug. “I’m sorry, YN.”
You close your eyes against his chest. “I’m sorry, too.”
Seokjin leaves you standing on the sidewalk as he runs back inside to grab his things, telling you he will be right back. You fiddle around with your phone, wondering if you should text Jungkook and ask him to meet you.
But what would you even say to him? Seokjin was right—you need to get your heart and mind in order.
You look up to see the man of your thoughts standing in front of you. Your heart begins to race at the sight of him. He’s freshly showered and sporting an oversized white shirt and black joggers. He’s gorgeous. You wonder how you’ve gone all these years denying it to yourself.
He smiles as he walks up to you.
He points a thumb in the direction of the locker room. “You and Jin hyung. That was some kiss.”
He saw Seokjin kiss you? You feel your heart start to sink at the thought of what must be going through his mind. You want to reach out, take his hand and tell him the truth, but you stay frozen.
“Are you happy with him?”
You nod. You nod like a big, fat idiot with no idea about what she’s doing.
“That’s good. I’m glad you and hyung can make each other happy.”
“Thank you, Jungkook.”
He grins. “Hey! You just called me Jungkook and not Jeon! Two victories in one day!”
You smile. It’s painful but you do. “Don’t let it get to your head, Jeon. It was just a slip of the tongue.”
“And there she is,” he teases, smiling again. “Look, I have some plans with a few of the guys so I’m going to get going. I hope you and Jin hyung have fun on your date.”
He nods. “After a victory like ours today, Jin hyung is definitely going to take you out. Enjoy it a lot, okay? I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, um…see you later.”
He watch him leave. His walk is slow, his back slightly bent. There is no confidence nor strength to the way he moves. There is no indication of his being a winner.
He leaves and you watch as your heart goes with him.
. . .
Seokjin gives you all but two days to figure out what you’re going to do before he tells Jungkook the truth about your relationship. The anxiety eats away at you so ferociously that you lay in bed for countless hours thinking about whether or not you should drop out of university and move to Hawaii. Hawaii is fun, right? Beautiful beaches and kind people. You could live out the rest of your days there and never have to worry about your feelings ever again.
Except life, more specifically a man named Jeon Jungkook, decides to throw a wrench into your plans.
It happens in the late afternoon.
You are back at the boys’ house going through your video camera footage on your laptop as Jungkook bakes chocolate chip cookies. The scent of the baked goods lingers so heavenly in the air that you hardly notice the work in front of you at all. You’re too busy chewing on yet another cookie.
“Careful,” he warns you, “you’re chewing really fast. You might get a tummy ache.”
You practically moan with delight. “Who told you to be so talented in the kitchen, Jeon?”
He chuckles. “My mom always taught me it was important for men to learn how to cook and bake. I used to hate it at first but overtime, I realized I was good at it so I kept going.”
“Do you even enjoy it?” You question. “Cooking and baking, I mean. We don’t always have to do things just because we’re good at them.”
“I don’t know. I just feel like…if you have something good, you shouldn’t try to leave it. Or ignore it.”
“But what if that thing also makes you unhappy?”
“Lots of unhappy things can become happy again if you try. If you put in the effort, things can be good again. Happy again.”
You know you’re not talking about cooking and baking anymore and it breaks your heart to see Jungkook so stuck on his parents’ marriage. You wonder what would happen if you mentioned it to him.
“Hey, Jeon,” you call, grabbing his attention again. “Your parents…my mom told me she hasn’t seen your dad around in a while. Is everything okay?”
He stops mixing the cookie dough. “My dad…? Oh, he…yeah, he’s just really busy these days.”
“With work or…?”
“Yeah, work, and um. Things. He has a lot on his plate lately. He’s paying half my tuition, you know? The half that isn’t being covered by my scholarship.”
You nod, feeling your throat tighten. “Oh, uh, that makes sense then. Yeah. I was just wondering.”
You and Jungkook fall into an uncomfortable silence for a while until he finishes with the cookies, popping the last of the batch into the preheated oven. You finish off editing today’s footage and shut your laptop. You observe Jungkook as he cleans up the Kitchen Island, then rinse and deposit the baking dishes into the dishwasher. He turns it on then wipes his hands on a kitchen towel. He smiles when he catches you watching him. It makes you blush. You cannot believe you’re the girl who blushes around Jeon Jungkook now.
“Do you, uh,” he nods towards the living room. “I mean, if you’re done working, do you want to watch a movie?”
You agree and stand up from your chair. You follow Jungkook to the living room where he starts up Netflix. You watch as he scrolls through the list of new releases until he finds a movie he thinks you might like.
“How about Bird Box?”
“Seen it.”
He keeps scrolling. You watch mindlessly until he reaches an interesting title. You place a hand over his on the remote to stop him. He looks down at where you’ve touched him, as if scalded. You pull your hand away immediately.
“Um, that looks interesting,” you point at the screen.
He looks between you and the screen. “It’s a drama.”
“We can still watch it. If you want.”
“Yeah, uh. Okay. Yeah, lets do that.”
“We might not get to finish the whole thing, though. So we’ll have to keep watching together.”
“Yes, that’s…fine. We can just watch it here, right?”
“Right.” He stops, appearing anxious. “But, it’ll mean spending mre time here. With me.”
“I already spend a lot of time here anyway,” you reply, ignoring the last bit of his sentence.
“You have to promise you won’t watch ahead, though. No matter what episode we leave off on.”
You laugh. “Okay, Jeon. I promise I won’t watch a single episode without tou. Happy?”
He settles into the couch. “Very.”
As the drama begins, you cannot help but steal glances at Jungkook, watching the way the light from the screen illuminates different parts of his face. You have never given his looks much thought. Most of the time, you figured he was as attractive as any other ordinary guy. But now, after knowing what you know and feeling what you feel, Jeon Jungkook looks different to you. He hasn’t changed his hair nor his style. He hasn’t grown taller or bulked up any more than he usually is. He hasn’t change his cologne nor get any facial work done. He still looks exactly as he always has yet your heart and mind know things are completely different now. He is still Jeon Jungkook but he’s also so much more. He is attractive, and witty, and intelligent, and a great cook. He is hardworking and talented and surprising in so many ways. He is a plethora of adjectives you never would have thought of calling him before; and which are the same words you have used over and over again in your film work over the course of the past few weeks.
So lost in your thoughts, you don’t realize Jungkook is calling on you. You blink, trying to focus your eyes on the man. Except, when you do finally get a chance to focus on him, he’s a lot closer than you realize. The distance between the two of you is minimal as you look at him. He seems transfixed. Absolutely forlorn.
You watch with a racing heart as his gaze drifts between your eyes and your lips. You don’t know what he’s thinking inside his pretty little head, but you want him to kiss you. In that moment, you want nothing more than for him to kiss you silly. Kiss your hunger for him out of your mouth. Kiss your confused heart right past your lips. Nothing makes sense around him and somehow, everything does.
And you really think, really think for a moment that he will kiss you.
But then just like that, the moment passes. He blinks. He leans away. He doesn’t kiss you.
“Jin and I aren’t dating!”
You wish you could smoosh the words back inside your mouth. How could you be so loose-lipped around him?
“I mean—“
“You and Jin hyung aren’t dating? How is that…why?”
You sigh, pulling your lips inside your mouth. “We never were dating, Jeon. It was all a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” He mimics. “But that day after our game…you told our team entire you were. You and hyung even kissed by the parking lot. I saw you.”
“What you saw was Seokjin trying to knock some sense into me.”
“Some sense…?”
“He wanted me to figure out what I was feeling. He wanted me to realize I didn’t actually have feelings for him.”
“By kissing you?”
You shrug. “It worked well enough.”
Jungkook stares at you in utter disbelief. “So what you’re saying is…you’ve been lying to me.” 
“No, Jeon, I—” 
He holds his hand up. “You don’t have to explain. I get it. You really liked him and as per usual, you got him. Then you let him go. Even after spending all that time with him.”
“I’m telling you we never dated. Will you please—” as soon as his words settle over you, your grip on his arm wavers. “Wait...what does that mean?” 
“It means you always get the guy, YN. Always. You find a guy you like and you chase after him until he’s yours. Then you dump him. It’s a pattern. One with no ripples in it.” 
You purse your lips, feeling both upset and somewhat agitated. “You make me sound like a serial dater.” 
“Isn’t that what you are?” He remarks. “You date guys and dump them more often than people change their clothes. Admit it, YN. You can’t keep a guy to save your life.” 
Your breath locks tight in your throat. You want to believe Jungkook isn’t saying these words to you, but he is. Every nerve in your body is on fire because of it. Your rapidly beating heart, your plummeting heart, are proof of his words. You just can’t believe the guy you thought you were falling in love with would be saying them to you. 
“I know my explanation won’t matter now since you’ve made up your mind about me, but I’m pathetic enough to want to explain anyway,” you swallow thickly, licking your lips. “I’m not dating Jin. Yes, I wanted to. A month ago, all I wanted was to have him as my boyfriend. But once you asked me not to date him while we worked on my project, all thoughts of ‘chasing after’ him fled my mind. Even after I asked you to lift the dating ban. The only reason Jin and I spend any time together anymore is to talk about you. I wanted to understand you better so I asked him for advice about how to help you because I knew you were hurting. That’s it. That’s all it was. We never dated. Not once.” 
Jungkook’s lips part. “YN—” 
You blink away a tear. You don’t understand why you’re crying. He’s right about you after all. You date and dump. That’s who you are. “The more time I spent with you, the less I wanted to spend with anyone else. I don’t know when I started liking you, but I did. I guess I still do. And I wanted you to stop hurting from whatever it was that you wouldn’t talk about with me. I just wanted Jin’s help so I could help you because for the first time in my life, I didn’t just want a guy to be my boyfriend. I wanted to be someone’s girlfriend. And stupidly, I wanted that person to be you.” 
Jungkook reaches his hand out for you, but you pull away. His heart sinks. 
“YN, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” 
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Or will be fine, anyway. You’re just another guy, right? Pattern states that I’ll like you, chase after you, have you and then dump you.” You laugh, but it comes out hollow. “Except I never really had you, right? So I guess there is one ripple in it.”
You grab your bag off the living room floor and head for the front door. Jungkook chases after you but you stop him. “Don’t. Just, please. Not today. I need some space from all of...this.” 
“But it’s dark out and—” 
You shoot him a stern look. “I am an adult, Jeon. I can make it to campus on my own, thanks.” 
Outside his front door, you notice the sun has set. It feels like the day when you visited his house for the first time and he insisted on driving you home after. The same evening you watched him defend you against your ex-boyfriend. The same night you shared your first kiss with him. The stupid, unsuspecting kiss which ultimately led your feelings to change. You wish you could forget it. You have been able to forget kisses before. But your mind seems dead set on you remembering this one. 
You are just about to reach the end of his street, when the boy on your brain drives up next to you and pulls down his window. 
You whip around to glare at him. “Jeon, I told you—” 
Jungkook leaves his car idle and jumps out, meeting you on the sidewalk. You notice the way his hair flops from side to side. It’s gotten so long yet he looks so beautiful to you. No matter his appearance, Jeon Jungkook is the most gorgeous man in the world to you. You think back to the first day you met him and judged his looks. It’s funny now how you want to defend him from your younger self’s baseless idiocy. Even though just a few minutes ago, you were crying because of him. Funny how love works. The same person who makes us the happiest we have ever been can easily break us down.
Jungkook stands in front of you with glossy eyes and shaking hands. 
“The worst thing my dad ever did was let my mom walk away with a broken heart,” he tells you. “I’m not going to make the same mistake he made.” 
You look up at him. “Jeon, I don’t...what are you trying to say?” 
“I’m in love with you,” he confesses, not daring to remove his eyes from you for even a quarter of a second. Your heart stammers as your entire world is thrown off axis. “And maybe right now is the worst possible time to tell you but I have spent the last decade trying to find the right moment to tell you, but it never came.” He inhales, gathering his courage. Once he does, he reaches forward to take your hand in his. “I was wrong about what I said to you. I was wrong about all of it. Being jealous, being petty...these were things my dad did and it broke my parents apart for a long time. I don’t want to be like them because I love you, YN. I really—” he stops, noticing the tears dripping down your face. “Wait, I’m sorry—don’t cry—” 
You let go of his hand and hug him. His arms wrap themselves around your body immediately, squeezing you tight. You feel the way his heart stars to beat in tandem with yours. After all these years, your hearts come together as one for the first time.
You reach up and kiss his cheek. 
“I love you, too.”
He sighs, dropping his head on you shoulder. He’s relieved but the guilt persists. “I’m sorry. About everything. I was jealous and stupid. I thought you were really dating him.” 
You lean back so you can peer at him. “I’m sorry, too. I should have been more careful. I should have told you the truth right away. I should have talked to you directly instead of involving Jin. I just...seeing you hurt like made me want to fix the whole world for you.” 
Jungkook cannot help it. Not when you’re looking at him so sweetly, like you’d go to war for him if you had to. Not when your words settle so perfectly in his heart and help him release a breath he’s been holding for too long. 
He kisses you. 
His warm hands press over your cheeks and bring you so close, removing any amount of space which existed before. He kisses you soft, and sweet, and gentle. He kisses you with the experience of a boy but with the love of a man who’s only ever looked at you. 
He hopes you feel it — all the love he’s carried for you throughout the years. The love which began as a bumbling ten year old which then transformed into an emo pre-teen who mooned over you from afar to a high schooler who dated another girl just to stay on your radar because he was so afraid you’d laugh in his face if he told you about how he felt to the college student who’s messed up with you so many times. He hopes you see the love he feels for you. The love he wants to give you. Even if he is still learning how to navigate it. 
When you finally part, your heart feels lighter. Like a gigantic cloud. Weightless. Happy. Really, really happy. 
“Do you, um,” Jungkook bites his lip, contemplating how to ask you. “Do you still want to go back to your dorm? Or maybe...come back to mine?” 
You tilt your head, smirking. “Are you inviting me back to your place, Jeon?” 
He blushes, cheeks heating up. “Not like that!” When he catches sight of your somewhat pouty lips, he backtracks. “Or yes, that? We still have our drama to finish, too…” 
You giggle, moving past him to open the car door and drop into the passenger seat. You look back at him from the window. “Let’s go then. I can’t wait to try the next batch of cookies while we binge-watch a cheesy drama.” 
Jungkook smiles after you like his whole world is coming together.
And maybe, just for tonight, it is.
. . . 
Professor Robinson presents you with an A- on your film project. 
After a whole month of filming, editing, quarrels, mishaps, and finding love, an A- feels like a million bucks. You are beaming with pride when your professor hands you a slip of paper with your project grade on it. 
“You look exceptionally delighted,” he remarks. 
“Oh sir, I am.” 
He chuckles. “Well then, I am glad to be the reason.” 
You’re smiling so much that you don’t bother to correct him. 
The rest of class passes by in a blur. You remember Professor Robinson putting on a black and white film to discuss the history of filmmaking and its effects on modern film work, but everything after that makes you draw a blank. In all honesty, you’re quite tired and you just want to go back to Jungkook’s house and fall asleep in his bed. These days, his bed is much more comfortable than the hard mattress in your dorm room. 
Before Jungkook, you never once slept on the same bed as a boyfriend. You always wanted to keep some space between you and your partner. Call it self-preservation, but you were afraid of crossing that line with any of the guys before Jungkook. But with Jungkook, all you ever want to do is get closer and closer. He’s changed you in so many ways that you have seemingly lost count. And you know he can say the same for you. 
At the end of class, Seokjin walks up to you as you go to stand behind the line of students walking out. You’re surprised to see him next to you. It was the first time you had completely forgotten he shared the class with you. In all honesty, being with Jungkook has managed to erase every bit of Seokjin that was ever on your mind.
It’s surprising how in such a short span of time, you have been able to fall in love and have it feel like it will go on forever. Though, if you truly think about it, you and Jungkook have been over a decade in the making. In the back of your mind, you wonder sometimes if you would go back now and change the way things were back then. Maybe you would have been nicer to your neighbour, reached out to him more. Maybe Jungkook could have asked you out first and taken you to prom. Maybe you could have been less judgmental and more forgiving. Maybe he could have gathered the courage to do what had unknowingly been on both your minds.
But if there is something other than love which you have gained from the way your life has changed in the last month, it’s trusting time and fate to work itself out.
“Hey, Jin, how did your project go?” 
He grins. “Does an A+ answer your question?” 
Your mouth falls open, shocked. “That’s great! I’m happy for you.” 
“I’m happy for you, too, YN.” He pauses for a moment, as if thinking over what he wants to tell you. In the end, he says, “You look extra pretty these days. Happier, too.” 
“I am,” you reply in earnest. “Happier than I’ve ever been before.” 
He smiles. “I think Jungkook’s head would explode if you told him that.” 
“It would, wouldn’t it?” 
You both walk out of class together. It feels nice to be able to stand next to him and have no lingering feelings. You wonder for a moment if there were any to begin with. Jungkook says he’s only ever loved you since the day you met and perhaps, through all the trials and mistakes, it was the same for you. Perhaps it was the reason why you went on date after date. The reason why you sifted through boyfriends. None of them lasted because none of them were Jungkook. 
The man on your mind and settled perfectly in your heart is standing outside the lecture hall, waiting for you. You grin and run up to him, jumping up to hug him. He hugs you back, squeezing you softly. You breathe him in. Being so close to him like this never stops feeling amazing.
“Hi, baby,” he greets you, kissing your cheek. 
“Hi, Kook.” 
He puts an arm around you. “How was class?” 
“Got an A,” you cheer. “Or an A-, rather.” 
“I can’t believe I’m dating Albert Einstein.” 
You chuckle. “It’s literally just a drama class.” 
“Hey! That’s rude!” 
You and your boyfriend look up to see Seokjin frowning at you, having heard your conversation. 
“Sorry, hyung,” Jungkook says, looking sheepish. 
The older man huffs. “You science nerds always think you’re better than us arts kids, huh?” 
“You’re hardly a kid, Jin,” you tease. 
“When I’m nominated for an Oscar someday for my crazy good acting skills, don’t come crying to me for a ticket.” 
You and Jungkook glance at each other and grin. Then, as if of one mind, you both ask, “What’s an Oscar?” 
Seokjin’s groan of defeat is worth it all. 
. . . 
“Hey, Kook,” you murmur, sleepy eyes as you cuddle into your boyfriend.  
“Hmm, what’s wrong?”
You place your chin on his stomach and look up at him. “Your mom and dad invited me and my parents over for dinner next weekend. Do you know what that’s about?”
“Oh…” he starts, smiling to himself. “It’s nothing…just a dinner.”
“Just a dinner?”
“Yeah. My parents wanted to do something special with all of us. They’re still working through some of their problems, but they’re happier now. I think they want to share that happiness with everyone they love.”
You smile and reach between your bodies for his hand, intertwining it with yours. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known, Jungkook. With a son like you, your parents are going to be just fine.”
He chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You shut your eyes for a second, embracing the way he adores you with open arms. When he leans back, you start to move away so you can sleep, but he holds you back, pulling on your hand.
“Hey, since we’re on the topic, when are you going to reward me for helping you with your project?”
You roll your eyes playfully. “I thought you said you were helping me for nothing in return.”
“Oh, come on, baby, you know that’s not how the world works.” He teases, shuffling closer to take you into his arms. You smile as he leans down to peck your lips. “So what’s my reward?”
“Well…” you murmur, “I wasn’t going to say anything until the dinner, but since you’re so impatient, I’ll tell you.”
His eyes shine. “What is it?”
“A soulful rendition of My Heart Will Go On.”
“I’m cancelling dinner,” he cries, reaching for his phone.
You giggle and hop over his body, effectively putting a stop to any of his movements. You sit on his stomach and lean down so your mouth hovers over his. “Oh, and the best part?”
He feels your lips ghost his as he says, “Ah, no…don’t tell me. I’m scared.”
“You’re singing it with me.”
1K notes · View notes
smaubts · 4 months ago
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call me baby
part 20. guess WHAT | end
a.n. the end 😿 thank you SO much for reading i love and appreciate you ALL
tag list: @tremendouspirateninja @thecatinserendipity @kirbykook @jdkook @symmetricaleyeliner @draqonsblues @moon-and-solar-smiles @clockworkrosea @kirakombat @waddlebby @clownward @anpanman-sonyeondan @psiphidragon @secretlycrazyhummingbird @ichigou-ukiyo @tricethecharm @bulletproofjamjar @kelitt @aizuwusho @the-voids-going-to-get-us @thelifeof-electra-heart @chunghamor @unadulteratedlyunique @arya-di-angelo @fictionsbitch @azeugirdor @kaithezaftig @justmewondering-recs @japzalileo @lochness-butmakeitsexy @fromthedt @tae165 @mcusuperfreak @ggukkieland @94ser0da @youurkryptonite @jungkookspromise @loveyoongles @themoonlookslonely @yoonssungs @taegijns @simpinforyoongi @melindagrace31 @zaedynnn @ilillyshadow @deleteidentity @min-yus @notmontae97 @lidda @wallflowertori-blog
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ddaeng-181338 · 2 years ago
Cold | 03
Wolf AU
• Min Yoongi x Reader
• Enemies to Lovers
Yoongi hated you the moment you joined the pack and that was that
Cold MasterList
Warnings - this chapter contains mentions of Physical and Mental abuse as well as implied sexual abuse
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You were curled up on Namjoon’s bed—fluffy blanket snuggled around you as he typed away on his laptop. It was about 10:30 that night and you were waiting for him to finish so you could talk. “Joonie, what are we going to do.” He didn't reply but you knew he heard you. You sighed and rolled over so you were on your back, eyes staring up to the ceiling as you tried to wrap your mind around the whole situation.
“At this point the best thing we can do is keep you hidden here. I mean it's not like you’re leaving us but you get the point. Jinyoung will give up eventually.” You shivered at his name. Jinyoung, your psycho ex boyfriend who was hell bent on getting you back. You had fled from his pack about 9 months ago when you found out they planned on killing humans for the fun of it.
“Joonie...he’s going to find me, and I don’t know what I’ll do when he does.” You felt hopeless when you talked about him, like a permanent thorn stuck in your side. “And if he does find you I’ll be ready.” Your heart ached for a moment and you rolled over again. “I don't want any of you getting hurt. Namjoon we have to tell another member, we can't keep this amongst ourselves.” He leaned back from his laptop, eyes looking heavier than usual.
“Do you think it would be smart to tell Jin hyung?” You thought about it for a moment—the eldest of your pack was also one of the strongest, even though he was an Omega— “Yeah, he knows something is up Joonie, it would be good to let him know.” Namjoon rubbed his eyes for a moment and stretched back, “I’ll go grab him.” You watched him get up and stride towards his bedroom door, opening it and closing it with a soft click.
This is all so fucked up. He will find me eventually, but I can't let them get hurt because of him. I won't let him hurt them. You hated him for everything, the mental abuse—the sometimes physical abuse— you had been nothing but a toy to him, a pretty little omega for him to take all his frustrations out on.
You heard two sets of footsteps reach the door and you sat up, keeping the fluffy blanket snuggled around you as Jin and Namjoon walked through the door. Namjoon returned to his original seat in front of his laptop, Jin on the other hand sat down on the edge of the bed. “So you two are going to finally explain yeah?” His voice shook slightly and it made your heart quicken. This was something he wanted to know so bad—but you could tell he was terrified of what you were about to say.
“You want me to tell him Y/n?” You shook your head “it's best if i tell him Joonie.” You watched Jin nervously, his hands were clamped together and his head was dipped slightly. “Are you okay hyung?” Jin didn't look up “i don’t know, i just I’m terrified for what you’re about to tell me y/n, you’re like a little sister to me I…” his voice cracked a little and you moved forward, wrapping him in a tight hug.
“Okay so, about 9 months ago I ran away from my old pack. They were brutal, to everyone and everything. I stuck with them cause i had nowhere else to go. The main reason i left was because of that they planned to do. Start killing humans for fun. That was the last straw for me really. Now why it's such an issue is because of one alpha in particular. The leader of the pack — Jinyoung— who is also my ex-boyfriend.” You could here Jin’s sharp intake of breath. “He abused me mentally, sometimes physically. And now that i've left he is determined to find me again.”
A silence settled among the three of you for a few minutes — you felt relief at finally being about to share your story with someone other than Namjoon. Finally he looked up. “I’ll kill that bastard Y/n, I’ll kill that bastard for everything he has done to you.” You felt your eyes well up, the fierceness in his tone was laced with so much love for you it nearly brought you to tears. You leaned forward again, hands coming around to circle his neck as he pulled you into his lap. You relaxed into his embrace, the familiar smell of vanilla calming your nerves.
“You get why I’m so protective of her now hyung? I found her on my last hunt, wandering through the woods trying to find shelter.” You buried your head in Jin’s neck this time, tears spilling over as the memories of that day flooded your mind. Jin began rocking you slightly, as if you were a newborn baby that needed comfort—and you were thankful for it.
You felt the fuzzy blanket you’d previously abandoned be wrapped around you as he pulled you tighter to his chest. “So what are we going to do.” You couldn’t see him but you could feel him, Namjoon’s eyes staring at your back as he thought of what you could do. “I...still don’t know, it is kind of a waiting game.” Jin sighed, rubbing soothing circles on your back as your tears finally slowed.
You didn’t want to leave his embrace so instead of talking you kept your face buried in his neck, letting your eyes close again. “I’d hope he’d give up eventually, once he realizes he can’t have her.” That will never happen, he won't stop until he finds me. Unless we kill him first…
Again silence filled the room and you peaked up for a moment, seeing that Namjoon was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. Jin looked down at you and smiled softly, thumb coming up to wipe away the tear stains on your cheeks. “Hey princess.” You smiled a little at that. “Should i just change my name to princess?” A soft giggle left your lips and all the worries you had melted away from your body.
“No cause they’d we’d have to think of another nickname.” It was Namjoon this time, sitting up normal and watching the two of you fondly. “I think we can call it a night too, Jin hyung—please don’t tell anyone else.” Jin nodded while you got off his lap, stretching your legs and arms out after hugging him so tightly. You leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek and he smiled softly at you. “I think I’m going to go up to the roof, get some air and watch the stars.”
“I think I’ll head to bed” Jin stood up, mimicking the stretches you did before saying good night to both of you and heading out. “If you’re going to the roof y/n be careful. I’ll be right here so if anything happens…” you cut him off “call you.” He nodded and turned around to face his laptop once more, I wonder who he could be talking too.
You slipped on your running shoes at the front door, as easy as going out barefoot would be — you could never be too sure. The front door opened with a click and cool air met your heated skin. You were wearing pajama shorts and a long sleeve shirt, so the cool air against your legs was more than welcome. You headed down the steps, eyes trailing over the edges of the woods that surrounded your pack’s home. scent of him either.
You climbed the ladder to the roof easily, letting your legs dangle over the edge once you settled yourself against the angle of the roof. I won’t let Jinyoung get to them. I won’t let him hurt them. And I’ll sure as hell never let him hurt me again. You let your back fall completely against the roof, your eyes trailing up to look at the stars above you-sparkling softly down on the world.
You didn't know when your eyes has shut but you woke up with a start—shooting forward as if you had just woken up from a nightmare. An all too familiar scent hit you like a slap to the face — lemon — your head shot around as you tried to find the source of it. No no no no you’re kidding, he couldnt have found me…
You began to get up, fully prepared to sprint back into the house. Still no sign of Jinyoung anywhere but his scent was everywhere. It wasn’t a cleaning supply lemon scent — more of a lemon drop scent. Something sweet and intoxication—something you used to be obsessed with only ten months back. Now however that smell made you recoil. An involuntary growl left your lips — it seems the omega wolf in you was feeling the same as well.
You moved for the ladder, everything in you screaming to get inside and get to Namjoon— but you froze. Eyes going wide as you turned around to see him standing just ten feet away from you. “Found you y/n.” You stared at him—to shocked to really say much of anything. “What is it darling? So shocked to see me that you lost your words.” Your head nodded — Move y/n fucking move you idiot, yell do something come on!
“Fuck you Jinyoung.” Smart y/n. He seemed unfazed by your outburst, if anything you could tell he hoped for more. “I mean should i remind you just how much i made you screa—“ your heart quickened as you knew what he was about to say “Shut up Jinyoung, finish that sentences and I’ll kill you.” He snorted, taking a step towards you. “If you could kill me y/n you would have done it before you ran away.”
You backed up, you needed to run. “You’re right, I would have Jinyoung, but honestly I was more concerned with getting the fuck away from you.” You were almost at the ladder, you couldn’t use it— no he would expect that from you. Just keep luring him on and then jump. I… but how do i keep him from getting in the house. I’ll...fuck I’ll have to run for the woods. “Why don’t you join me again huh darling? I treated you like a queen, gave you everything you could ever want. Not to mention i made you feel so…” you cut him off with a growl. “Don’t fucking act all sweet and innocent Jinyoung, you know what you put me through. I don’t give a fuck about anything you say.”
He seemed to stiffen slightly, eyes darkening as a deep growl left his lips. “What was that little omega? Talking back to your alpha? Your future mate?” At the word mate you felt your stomach churn, without a second of hesitation you jumped off the roof, landing into a roll before sprinting towards the woods. You knew the moment he growled the talking was over, an now with adrenaline pumping through you — you were more than ready to put up a fight.
You glanced behind you for a moment to make sure he was actually after you and you weren’t running like a fool through the woods. Sure enough he was after you, feet flying as he tried to catch up to you. You had an advantage though, you knew these woods like the back of your hand. You lunged over a fallen over tree and yelled as your foot slammed awkwardly unto the ground.
You fell forward but caught yourself and tried to keep going, pain shooting through your ankle as you did. Fuck I sprained it , of course. You moved faster, fighting through the pain as you sprinted for the river. You wanted to throw him off and have him lose your scent. If you could confuse him and get back to the house and wake Namjoon you’d be okay.
You could hear the river in the distance and pushed yourself harder, you could hear him behind you now, his breath ragged as a growl seemed to constantly try to rip from his throat. You waited for the right moment before veering off in a sharp left, leaving Jinyoung to plow forward and giving you plenty of time to put more distance between the two of you. You were almost by the rivers shore when you dove, sliding ungracefully down the bank and into the water.
You submerged yourself completely and moved down the river slowly. You kept your eyes and nose about the water and scanned the area for him. Within fifteen seconds he came running, skidding to a halt by the banks and searching around frantically. You held yourself still — careful not to make any movement or noise. “Damnit!” His voice echoes through the forest and you suppressed the shutter that almost left you.
You watched him prowl up and down the river bank, you kept yourself closer to the opposite shore, eyes trained on his form. He was radiating anger and it terrified you. Had it not been for the water around you he probably would have caught your scent. “I know you’re out there y/n, I know you can hear me. I’ll be back for you darling. Trust me.”
You watched him stalk off into the woods again and didn’t move. You were frozen — literally and figuratively— you weren’t willing to move. You had no way to contact Namjoon and you were convinced he was still lurking someone amongst the trees. You moved slowly towards the other bank, slowly bringing yourself out of the water. You couldn’t smell him at all, and couldn’t pick up on any movement either.
You made it to the banks of the river and collapsed — pain shooting up your leg as you finally remembered your sprained ankle. You looked down and saw that it was swelling a little, the cold water probably helping — but now that you were walking on it the irritation began to spring forth. “God damnit, what am I going to do? Walking on this will only make it worse.”
You thought for a moment, eyes moving rapidly to make sure he wasn’t around. After you were sure you struggled to get up, balancing all pressure on one foot as you hobbled towards the trees. You couldn’t even make it far. You fell again, this time slicing open your palm on a jagged rock. That’s when the tears came, you flopped down on your back.
Tears falling freely as you stared up at the stars. “This has to be some fucking nightmare. This has to be a joke — I’m dreaming , I’m dreaming I’m—“ your own tears stopped you as you cried harder. You felt hopeless— “maybe it would be better if he did take me — at least I wouldn’t be bleeding and in pain.”
You weren’t sure if it was because of the Adrenaline wearing off, or the pain in your ankle. Hell maybe it was the blood loss. But you started to feel yourself slipping away— your vision darkening until nothing was left.
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ausblack · 3 years ago
(n.) A preference or love for darkness or night, finding relaxation and comfort in darkness.
Genre: Zombie apocalypse! au, angst, fluff, smut
Word count: 16k
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader
Summary: Surviving in an apocalypse is hard, but what's harder is surviving it together with a person that you care about and that you could lose in the blink of an eye. That's what you and Taehyung thought when you decided to try and survive together, keeping the distance between each other.  However, things don’t just work out the way you expect them to.
Tw: Swearing, thigh riding, dirty talk, oral, praise kink, Dom!Tae
a/n: Heyy guyss!! I know it’s been a while but I passed like the whole week writing this story and it’s honestly one of my favorite that I’ve ever written. I did it together with my friend @aralty, she’s super talented and will start writing here on Tumblr soon so please check her out, follow her and read the works that she’ll post! Hope you like it!
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When the zombie outbreak first made its way through the small borders of your hometown, chaos prevailed on every thing that surrounded you.
Screams filled the air as people ran on the street with the only intention of escaping – evading from those horrifying monsters with dry, peeled skin and torn clothes stained with dark blood.
The thought of living that nightmare never crossed your mind until you found yourself face to face with an infected man – your lovely neighbor that now had nothing alive in his gaze, only a bright white color that suggested the idea of death.
You had waited patiently for your father to come home after the news of the deadly virus came out, only to find yourself alone without anyone that could tell you how things were going to get better.
Lights were cut off along with the system from around and the only person who could still be contacted was your boyfriend of 3 months, Jaesung, that luckily for you lived right around the corner.
At first, when you told him that you were by yourself asking him to meet up, he sounded doubtful – too afraid to step out of his own house, but he eventually put on a brave face.
When you saw him coming inside your house with a huge black gun you couldn’t help but freeze, widening your eyes.
“Why the hell do you have that with you?!” You panicked, receiving a bored, yet scared, gaze from him.
“People are dying outside. We’re in the middle of a fucking zombie apocalypse. I won’t walk with empty hands.” He explained with a shaky voice.
“Do you even know how to use that?” You asked, hugging yourself to stop your body from shivering.
He huffed, crossing his arms before opening his mouth to talk.
“Of course I do! Do you think I’m an idiot?” He asked, furrowing his brows.
Of course he didn’t. Why would he know how to use a gun if he never had the need to before?
“Whatever-“ Your conversation was interrupted by a loud noise coming from the kitchen, not too far from you.
“What the f-“
“Shut up!” You whispered to him in attempt of not getting caught.
Your boyfriend tightened his hold on the gun while you, as silently as you could, started to walk towards the source of the sound. You could only hear your shaky breaths and low grunts that seemed to get louder the more you got closer to the room.
As soon as you entered the kitchen, something that you wish you hadn’t saw came to your sight.
Those things were trying to break through the glass of the door and windows.
“I need to get out of here.” You murmured with wide eyes before running towards your room to grab a backpack yelling.
“Fucking move Jaesung, We need to go! WE NEED TO GO!”
Your boyfriend didn’t waste time as soon as he heard your order and got out of the house without waiting for you to catch up.
“How many bullets does that thing have?” You asked loudly with heavy breath as you ran out of your home behind Jaesung, who was already quite far from where you both were before.
“One.” He answered without looking back, dodging every person that came in his way as he escaped from the fuss that the city was becoming.
People were screaming and you tried not to look at the bloody bodies that were laying on the cold ground, right below groups of zombies that fed themselves with their flesh.
Windows were broken and desperate crowds were trying to steal as many items as they could – whatever could be useful to survive this imminent apocalypse.
Some shops were on fire and the shine that it caused was your only source of light, helping you as you ran without stumbling on anything.
“Wait for me!” You yelled out of breath, watching the figure of your boyfriend before slamming hard on someone that cut you off.
You turned around, ready to apologize for your clumsiness only to let out a loud scream at the sight of the zombie in front of you.
It looked even more disgusting from up-close and the rotten smell of his skin was almost making you puke.
You started to ran as fast as you could, feeling the grunts of that creature closely behind you and it didn’t take you long to understand that he was chasing you.
At one of his steps, the leg of the zombie broke away – causing him to fell to the ground and hold onto one of your ankles.
His fingers were cold and tough, strong enough to almost making you fall along with him as well.
“JAESUNG! Help me!” You yelled out and your boyfriend turned around at the sound of your desperate voice, widening his eyes at your sight.
“Shot him!” You ordered him as you tried to move out of his clutch without touching him.
He looked at you hesitatingly before responding with a pitiful look.
“I’m sorry babe. I only have one bullet left, I can’t use it now.” You felt tears come up to your eyes, looking at him as he turned around – mouthing “I’m sorry” one last time.
You kept on screaming, trying to get Jaesung’s attention but the zombie was now almost pulling you to the cold street with him. He couldn’t just leave you to die like this.
You had to survive – to get out of there.
Looking up at him one last time, you noticed something making his way to your boyfriend.
At first you thought it was a zombie, but to your surprise a tall, skinny boy with blonde hair revealed himself.
For a moment you forgot about the creature that was trying to kill you: you couldn’t help but watch what was happening in front of you. The mysterious boy grabbed angrily the gun from Jaesung’s hand ignoring his cusses and started to walk towards you.
You tried to get away, afraid that he would shoot you but you froze on the spot at the loud sound of the gunshot – and the movement of the zombie falling emotionless behind you.
You looked wide-eyed the boy that you had never seen before, his looks were stern and dark – the gun still in his hand as he walked closer to you.
He offered you a hand, helping you getting up from the floor and for a moment you got lost looking at his handsome features. A small mark of blood covered his puffy cheek and his skin glowed from the light caused by the fire. His eyes were dark but, for some type of reason, you felt intrigued by them. After giving you a small smile, he turned around, facing once again your boyfriend that was now looking at the scene with shock plastered on his face.
The boy’s big hand was still holding tightly onto yours and his stance covered you completely from Jaesung.
“If you don’t get out of your sight in three seconds, I will pull out my gun and shot you in the face, I have one bullet left and I won’t hesitate to use it on garbage like you. Did you understand?” He spoke up – a low voice came out of his throat and you looked at his back surprised. You didn’t expect it to sound like that.
Your boyfriend became paler at the sudden threat, but he tried to act tough – speaking in response.
“Whatever. Y/N come here. Let’s go away.” Jaesung talked, walking towards you to take you back but at his action the guy’s grip tightened.
“Don’t fucking touch her.”
“Dude, who do you think you ar-“
“A better person than you, not that it would be difficult to be one. Do you think is fucking okay to leave a girl like that? And then once you see that she’s alright, take her back?” The stranger stared at Jaesung with ice cold eyes.
“Leave us alone, she won’t need you anymore from now on. And if you just try to lay a finger on her again, I will rip your fucking face off.”
Your memory was interrupted by loud bangs of a gunshot.
You opened your eyes as soon as the sound came to your ears – surprised to see that the car had stopped.
“Were you dreaming about helping me with those zombies that almost ate my face, sleeping beauty?” The male teased, putting the weapon that he used to shot a couple of infects down – that now were laying motionless on the sidewalk. The contrast between the pale flesh and the dark, almost back, blood was making you feel nauseous. For a moment you thanked God that you couldn’t see their eyes – those were the worst part of it all.
“Oh fuck off Taehyung. It seems like you handled them pretty well even without me.” You responded with an annoyed tone, starting shifting in your seat. Your neck hurt from the uncomfortable position you had slept in until then.
The boy besides you scoffed at your remark. “Remind me again why I brought you with me.” He muttered to himself sitting back on the driver seat.
His hair was blonde and long, too long in your opinion. He definitely needed to cut them. On his dark skin there were some traces of dirt – on the cheeks and some on his forehead.
His piercing brown eyes were focused on your sleepy figure as you talked.
“Because apparently you have such a good heart that you couldn’t help but save a lady that was being abandoned by her douchebag of a boyfriend.” You answered, yawning and stretching your arms.
“I’m starting to regret that…” He said quietly, following his words with a warm chuckle – earning a glare from you.
Taehyung started the pick up, meanwhile you staed at your surroundings.
The road was covered with red, orange and yellow leaves.
“It must be autumn” You thought by yourself looking outside the window.
You’ve been traveling around the country with Taehyung for almost two months now, trying to survive day by day.
After he had taken you with him, the boy didn’t show any sign of interest towards you or your story.
Sometimes you wondered if he really did regret taking you with him.
Sometimes you thought that he hated you.
You sighed, shifting again until you were seated normally on the car seat.
Most car rides were silent, you never really talked about anything, if not about what supplies you needed, where to sleep or where to go. You were together only to survive. Nothing more, even if sometimes you wish there was something more between the two of you.
“We’re almost there.” Taehyung stopped your flow of thoughts.
“Almost there where?”
“There’s a supermarket near, it’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere so there is barely any chance that it’s gonna be empty. We need food, clothes and as much medicines as we can find. Got it?” He kept his attention on the road.
“Yeah sure.” You replied weakly. The boy spared a quick glance in your direction, thinking you weren’t feeling well.
He didn’t question anything though, He just kept on driving.
When you finally arrived at your destination, Taehyung let out a deep breath of relief.
“Do I bring the backpacks inside? Or do we put everything in the back of the pick up?” you asked him. He didn’t answer immediately – too busy inspecting the area around you the supermarket, guns in both hands.
“Search for a cart, we’ll put everything there and then we’ll transfer it to the pick up. In your backpack put only the medicines.” After he said that, he got out of the car and entered the supermarket.
The power was out and Taehyung seemed to be struggling a lot to fix the problem.
“Need any help?” You questioned teasily.
“No, I’m goo-“ You didn’t know what he had touched – and it was better not to know – because a second later the boy was jumping up and down cursing. He had just been shocked.
You couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Taehyung turned around, looking at you with a mad expression. “I guess you can do better, am I right, little electrician?” He hissed with a pain stamped on his face.
You didn’t answer – all you did was fiddling for a bit with the meter and the power was back.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now…” He whispered to himself, looking at the sudden light.
“Asking for help doesn’t hurt, you know?” You said while walking through the aisles of the shop. Taehyung shook his head.
The blonde boy was right: the supermarket was almost full.
There still were food and clothes, but the pharmacy section was almost empty.
You started looking for hoodies and sweaters in the clothes aisle, for the both of you. Touching a soft hoodie with black cloth, you decided to put in on, replacing your ripped and dirty shirt – feeling the comfortable warmth over your cold and frozen skin. You took it off, remaining with only your bra on before covering up with the sweater that you had just found before picking everything up to put it on the cart.
Looking up, you noticed Taehyung’s eyes on you as you changed and a small smirk appeared on your face.
“Am I so beautiful that you can’t take your eyes off me?” You teased and he rolled his eyes before turning around.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I was just checking that you wouldn’t stuff yourself with food.” He said laughing – however you caught glimpse of a light blush that colored his cheeks.
Less then an hour later you were both out of the supermarket with carts full of supplies.
“Water, chips, bread, beer…wait, beer? Why the fuck would you need beer? It’s the apocalypse Y/N not a frat party!”
“Ughh come on, we have free alcohol and you don’t want to take advantage of it?” You asked at a really grumpy Taehyung that wore a frown on his face. He ignored what you had said and kept on checking what through what you had found.
“Wait…” A realisation suddenly came to your mind. “You don’t like alcohol, do you?” You asked him quietly and he looked at you with an upset expression.
“Not even a bit. Now can we quit talking about this and move on, please?” He let out with an annoyed tone.
You were taken aback by his exaggerated reaction, but you kept your mouth shut, looking to the carts without saying anything.
Taehyung was a strange type of person. You could argue with him over ridiculous things and he would seem like he has forgotten about it ten minutes later. For that reason, he started chuckling by himself a bit later and you looked at him with an amused yet confused expression.
“I didn’t think that you would be a waffle-type.” You narrowed your eyes.
“Sorry? What’s wrong with liking waffles?” You asked and he shook his head bringing the carts closer to the pick up.
“Oh nothing. It’s just…when I was younger between me and my friend there were always debates about stupid things like what is better between waffle and pancakes. Seeing this reminded me of him.” He explained, pointing out the sweets. The chuckle soon became cold and emotionless before disappearing – dying in the boy’s throat.
You opened your mouth to say something, but a voice interrupted you and it didn’t belong to neither of you.
“Is someone there?”
For a moment you froze on the spot, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the sudden noise. The person had a clear voice and it sounded perfectly normal. Maybe it was another survivor.
Taehyung on the other hand was throwing everything inside the pick up.
You walked slowly towards the source of the noise, curious to see if someone else was there with the two of you but, as soon as Taehyung noticed what you were trying to do, you felt a violent tug on your wrist.
“Y/N we need to leave!” Taehyung’s voice was stern and shaking.
“No! Wait it might be-“
“Get in the fucking car!” He was almost shouting, panicked by the situation.
You didn’t have any chances and in a matter of ten minutes, you were back on the road.
“What the fuck is wrong with you Taehyung?! They were humans! They could have helped us! Maybe they were in danger! What if they need-“
“What if they needed help? Are you serious? Let me tell you something, what if they had an infected with them? Mh? What would you do?” He was fuming as he scolded you – but so were you.
“We could have tried to help them! How can you be so selfish and not care about the others?” You hissed.
“Oh right, because having you here with me is selfish! You need to think more about yourself Y/N. You can’t save everyone here. Get that in your brain!” He spitted, breathing heavily – thinking that the argument was over. You, on the other hand, had no intention of giving up.
“We can try Taehyung! Maybe in case of danger they could have helped us! What if there were childr-“
“Stop being a fucking bitch Y/N! God, now I understand why your boyfriend left you there!” As soon as those words came out of his mouth and through your ears, realization finally played its role inside your mind and you felt completely empty inside. Taehyung looked at you shocked himself – regret evident in his face but in that moment, you didn’t care.
“Stop the car.” You whispered, feeling hot tears rolling down your cheeks.
He had never loved you. Everyone around you was dead and the only person who managed to stay by your side hated you. What was the point in staying there?
“What? Y/N I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“
“Stop the fucking car!” You let out a yell and the boy braked – causing you to immediately open the car door. Ignoring his shouts, you went out running in the middle of the street.
Everything that was happening around you had finally hit you and you weren’t capable of dealing with it. Tears were staining your face and you were shaking.
“Y/N! No, please. Come back Y/N!” He got out of the car as well, running desperately after you.
He gasped at your sight, watching as you fell down the ground on your knees, shaking your whole body. You hugged your legs, bringing them against your chest and you started sobbing harder than before.
Suddenly, you felt a pair of strong arms embracing your shaking figure.
“I’m so sorry…I didn’t want to say those things. Please forgive me.” He whispered against your hair as he hugged you but you didn’t hear him.
“He didn’t care about me. He just wanted to live, even if I was the price to pay. I’m so useless. Stupid. So fucking stupid and weak.” You cried, mumbling your words through the sobs.
“Shh no, no you aren’t Y/N. He left you because he was an asshole and too stupid to realize how much you actually are worth. Whatever he did to you doesn’t define you in any way, okay? You’re not useless. Okay princess?” You had never heard him speak with such a soft and sweet tone coming out of his lips.
You raised your head to look at him with puffy, watery eyes and a red nose.
“You understand?” He asked, smiling lightly at your cute sight and you nodded in response.
He took your hand, guiding you back to the car and you got inside.
“Try to sleep okay? This time we’ll have to drive a lot longer.” You felt your eyelids closing as soon as he finished the sentence.
“Where are we going this time?” You asked trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in the car seat while letting out a quiet yawn and closing your eyes.
“In a safe place.” He whispered, looking at you with soft eyes.
You feel asleep hearing him humming a song as he drove.
You couldn’t say for how much you slept, but you assumed for a long time, because when you turned your head to face Taehyung, you felt a piercing pain on your lower back.
Only then you realized how dark it was outside and that the pick-up wasn’t moving – Taehyung was no where to be seen and that caused you to start panicking. You opened the car door and, feeling sleepy and unstable, you ran to the back of the car – relieved to see the boy sleeping there, with nothing but a thin cover to warm him up. His head was resting on a backpack, he was quietly sleeping with a gun near him and you could see the small with clouds and swirls of air coming out of his rosy lips as he breathed the cold hair in and out. You hoped that he wasn’t freezing, but after giving him one last look you sat back on the car seat, letting him sleep peacefully. After a bit you fell asleep once again, glad that he was okay.
You woke up once again because you felt a light touch on your shoulder.
“We’re here.” Taehyung said quietly, almost afraid of disturbing you.
You let out a loud yawn, to which he replied with a loud laugh.
“Did you rest well? You’ve been asleep since I started driving.” He asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
“I woke up in the middle of the night.” You said, trying, with all your energy you didn’t seem to find, to sound awake.
“Really?” He sounded surprised.
Taehyung was driving in a really narrow dirt road that didn’t seem to lead anywhere.
“Yeah, you were sleeping in the back and I thought you were frozen for a minute.” You said chuckling sleepily.
The boy smiled lightly, taking a turn with the car and it was at this moment that a little farm came to your sight.
As soon as Taehyung saw it, he stopped the car roughly, getting out without waiting for you.
“What the...What’s wrong?” You asked him with a loud tone as you struggled to get out as well, catching him up in front of the farm.
He had reached the entry of the house but he had stopped there, not walking inside in front of the open door.
You looked around, noticing the landscape of dirt, dried grass and wood that surrounded the farm.
As you slowly walked towards Taehyung, you saw the inside of the house and you felt bad for whoever had lived there. It was a complete mess and everything was thrown on the ground.
Moving your head to look at the boy that was standing in front of you, you saw tears in his eyes, but he immediately dried the with his shirt’s sleeve before taking your wrist and pulling you away from it.
“Let’s get out of here.” He said sniffling lightly, walking away quickly towards the car.
“Wait why?” You asked confused, noticing how upset that sight had made him.
“I’m sorry, I thought this place was safe but I was wrong. I remembered it differently.” He said, opening the car door but you refused to go in.
“You knew this place?” You asked and he nodded.
“It’s my grandparent’s farm. I grew up here but we can’t stay.” He confessed, not looking at you in the eyes. His words shocked you and you understood why he was feeling so emotional because of the huge mess.
You thought about what to say, looking back at the house and suddenly an idea came to your mind.
“We can stay here for a couple of days don’t you think? We can fix it a bit so that it gets habitable.” You proposed, expecting a mean comment or a sarcastic laugh to come out of his mouth, but he surprised you with a hopeful look.
“Are you serious?” he asked and you nodded, giving him a small smile before picking up the bags from the truck.
“C’mon let’s go. You can park in front of the house.” You said, turning around to place everything inside – failing to notice the smile that Taehyung had on his face as he looked at you.
As soon as you stepped into the farm, a strong smell of dirt covered your nostrils – making you cough a couple of times.
“There’s a lot to do.” Taehyung said from behind you, kicking the rotten and broken furniture out of the way.
The walls of the house, once colored with a clean white paint, were now gray and filled with holes all over them. The view that you had from the entrance was of the whole living room and a door, that now was laying on the floor because it probably came lose, connected the room with the kitchen.
“Where do we start?” You asked him and he looked around for a couple of seconds before talking.
“I think that we should split. You can clean outside and I’ll clean inside.” You nodded at his proposal, walking out of the door to see what you could do in order to make that place less messy.
As soon as you walked out of the door, Taehyung sighed loudly, letting out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. Memories of his childhood came back to his mind while he looked at the broken photos on the floor. How his grandfather would always bring him with him whenever he went out with his tractor in the morning, teaching him how to fish and how to swim in the lake behind the farm; how his grandmother would prepare him whatever he wanted at lunch because she believed that he looked better when he was chubbier, letting him smell the flowers that she planted in the garden; how the two of them helped him become the man that he now was, caring for him like how two parents would.
Catching a tear slip along his cheek, Taehyung wiped it off with his sleeve, starting to search around the house for whatever could be useful for the two of you around, but nothing seemed to be of help.
He walked inside the kitchen, opening the small cabinet - finding a broom that his grandmother had placed there. With it, Taehyung cleaned the floor of the living room, throwing away the broken glass and the pieced of iron that could hurt either you or him.
The only furniture that could still be used, was the bright green couch that only showed a couple of marks made by dirt. He tried to sit on it and, luckily for him, it seemed to be completely fine.
He went besides it and he pushed it in front of the fireplace – creating a small comfortable corner where you could chill with him when the night would arrive.
The kitchen was in a better state and the cabinets where aliments were put didn’t show any type of crack. Taehyung opened them, hoping to find something useful and almost screamed with joy when he found the drawer full of medicines.
He looked at you with a bright smile from the window of the kitchen, opening it to tell you about his discover.
“Y/N!” He screamed, laughing at the little jump scare that made at the sound of his voice. You brought a hand to your chest.
“Jesus Christ. Don’t scare me like that you asshole! What?!” You screamed In reply, pouting at his teasing expression.
“I found a drawer full of medicines! We don’t have to worry about them now.” You smiled at his news, rubbing your hands under your armpits to get warmer as you listened to him.
Noticing your action, the small smile on his face became a frown.
“Are you cold? Do you want me to do that? You can clean the house instead.” He proposed but you shook your head, already full of dirt.
“I’m already dirty, don’t worry about it. Let’s just go on until we get too tired.” You said and he nodded unsure, feeling like he should be outside.
“Don’t throw away the wood. We’ll need it later.” He said before closing the window and going back to work.
You spent the rest of the day tidying up the remaining parts of land that were ruined by dirt and trash. When you finally had done it, you felt the tiredness in your body. As you walked inside to approach Taehyung, you saw him busy near the fireplace.
“What are you up to?” You asked and he scoffed.
“What do you think I’m doing?” He asked and you rolled your eyes at his remark.
“Need help?” You teased him, remembering what had happened in the supermarket but he seemed like he could do it perfectly by himself.
Sitting down on the couch with your legs crossed, you looked at the small flame that got created inside the stack, and soon a small fire started to burn the wood inside the fire place.
Taehyung sat on the other hand of the couch, leaving a bit of space between you and him. As soon as the fire started to spread, you felt more relaxed and warm. Fire always fascinated you. You stared at the source of light in silence, while the boy with a smirk on his lips watched you, amused by the fascinated look you had.
“What are you thinking about?” He suddenly asked you; you stayed quiet a moment, looking at the the swirls of fire for a couple of seconds before talking again, avoiding the question.
“How were your grandparents?” You asked, catching him off guard. He looked at you with wide-eyes, unsure on what to say but you tried to get him more at ease.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” You assured him but he shook his head.
“No no, I don’t have a problem talking about them.” He said as he breathed shaky, and for a moment you felt your heart beat faster than before. He was finally opening up to you.
“They were great. Like parents to me.” Taehyung started to talk, keeping his gaze of the fireplace.You gave him your complete attention turning so that you could face him directly.
In between the pauses, when he stopped talking, crickets could be heard from the outside and you truly felt like the outbreak never happened.
You wished you two could stay like this forever, isolated, peaceful, free.
“They took great care of me when I was a child, always acting more like parents than grandparents. I ate, slept and played in the farm. This is truly what I will always call home.” He confessed while looking around him with a nostalgic gaze. You furrowed your brows.
“What about your parents?” You asked and he just shrugged.
“They worked.” He easily explained but you were still confused.
“So you never saw them?” You asked and he nodded.
“They preferred to work overseas and I preferred to stay in the farm with my grandparents, so we split ways.” You nodded in understanding as you heard about his story.
“This place is probably really important to you.” You added and he looked around.
“I mean, yeah. It’s my home. That's why I don't think I could ever thank you enough for making it feel like home again" he smiled at you and you smiled back.
"I don’t know what happened in here for this place to become this shithole but I don’t really want to know. We’ll stay in here for short anyways so…”
“And your friends?” As those words came out of your mouth, Taehyung physically froze. If your past questions didn't touch him enough, at this one the boy could feel his heart break in pieces.
“Oh...Sorry I don’t think I should’ve ask that…”
He closed his eyes, shaking his head and trying to hold back the tears that were desperately trying to escape from his eyes. For a moment you thought that you had fucked up the trust that you somehow had managed to establish between you two.
“It’s okay...I…” With a hand he scratched his eye.
“My best friend died. The night of the outbreak.” You widened your eyes at his confession, but you weren’t completely surprise but this news. Terrible things happened since the outbreak. And Taehyung suffered a lot from it, too. Just as you did.
“What was his name?”
“Jimin.” Taehyung answered, and for some reason you found yourself scooting closer to him as the conversation grew.
You could see that he had never talked about what had happened to him before, so getting him to open up was something that would probably help him. But it wasn't that easy for Taehyung. He was basically telling you all the darkest secrets and memories he had to keep hidden in his heart for a very long time. Maybe for too much time.
“How was he?” You asked and he smiled to himself.
“The cutest little shit I’ve ever seen.” You both chuckled at his words.
“He was shorter than me and skinnier, but for some type of reason he thought that he needed to work out more. I always hung out with him, almost everyday. Even my grandmother loved him.” You smiled sadly at him, listening attentively.
“He loved dancing and he always showed me the dances that he created during his free time. He was the sweetest soul, way too kind. We thought that we would survive this together.” You felt the pain in his words. Something you knew too much about. And you knew that his words hid something bigger than what he was trying to say.
“How…How did he die?” You reluctantly asked him. You hoped he wouldn't have gotten mad at your curiosity. But, to your surprise, he looked at you directly in the eyes instead.
“He tried to help a man, but he was already infected. He got attacked and I didn’t have a gun with me to defend him.” You gasped, thinking about the night of the outbreak and about what Taehyung had done for you when you first met.
“Is it...Is that why you took the gun from Jaesung?” You asked and he hesitated. He didn't know what to say at first.
“If only I had a gun... a gun with only one bullet, just one, with me... I could’ve saved him. Who is Jaesung to decide who dies and who doesn't? Someone lost his life because of me but another one is living for the same reason, so I don’t hate myself that much.” He muttered between cold chuckles and sniffles. You felt your heart ache at his words.
“It’s not your fault.” You said, bringing one hand to his shoulder, he stayed in place without moving it away. you stayed this way for a bit. it was comfortable. Even if you weren't hugging him, Taehyung still felt the warmth and the feeling of protectiveness coming from you. He enjoyed it.
“Can I ask you something?” He suddenly asked, looking at you in the eyes and you quickly answered, feeling like it was the least you could do.
“Why were you with him?” You widened your eyes at his unusual question, expecting something else.
“Oh…With Jaesung?” You asked and he nodded, serious expression stamped on his face.
“We met last year, but we had been together for like 3 months happened. I truly loved him but he wasn’t exactly the best person for me at that time. He was a drug addict.” You confessed and he looked at you shocked, not expecting it. “I guess I stayed with him because I was alone. I fell in love with him and I had no one else to tell me that I shouldn’t have. I only had my father with me because my mom died when she gave birth, but he was always working so Jaesung stayed with me.” You added, Taehyung nodded lightly before you started to speak again.
“He went around with bad people and did bad things, but for him I was ready to change everything in my life. I promised him that I would be there for him whenever he needed help and he eventually stopped using drugs.” You said but Taehyung understood from your expression that there was more.
“He…wasn’t exactly calm. Whenever we fought he could be…turbulent.” You explain and a little frown made his appearance on Taehyung’s face. He began to shift on the couch, trying to get closer to you.
“Y/N what are you trying to say?” he asked, his voice slightly deeper than before.
You looked at the fire and then back at him, sighing deeply before speaking up.
“He drank. Quite a lot. He couldn’t take no as an answer and sometimes he let it all out on me I guess.” As you looked away from his face, a light touch gained your attention and you blushed at the feeling of Taehyung’s hand moving your hair out of your face – behind your ear.
“What did he do to you, princess?” His answer came out as a whisper and you felt chills roll down your spine. You could feel the tension, and suddenly the weight of your secrets seemed heavier than ever.
“I went back home to him one night and he was completely wasted. He had this bottle of beer in his hand...and I-I tried to get it away from him.” His hand was still touching your own hand. You were shaking.
“He didn’t mean it. He was so sorry when it happened.” You murmured feeling the tears building in your eyes, trying to convince yourself more than Taehyung.
“He just threw it on the wall but he missed it and..he hit me instead. He gave me a huge scar on the thigh with the glass of that fucking bottle.” You confessed. Taehyung was trying his best not to burst.
“I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”
You spent the next days serenely. Nothing and no one disturbed the little shelter you two had built. Your days consisted of waking up on the back of the pick up, where Taehyung had placed a double sized mattress he had found in the bedroom. You had offered to sleep there together, but Taehyung refused and insisted you had your own space; he would have been fine on the couch.
After waking up and eating something, most of the times you went by the small lake in the back of the farm. There were no fishes, nor animals. It seemed like everything was frozen in time.
But it was okay. You truly felt like nothing happened before you got there. You've never felt so peaceful and happy, now that Taehyung and you had your safe place.
Sometimes he would join you by the lake, and you two spent hours laying on the grass near the water, just listening to each other breathing, the wind, and the occasional sound of birds in the trees.
You grew fond of the way the red leaves filtered the sunlight, the way the water reflected the moon at night, the way the breeze brushed your hair, making them feel like waves.
It felt like home.
And Taehyung felt the same way.
Especially when he accidentally brushed your hand with his fingers, or leaned to you so much that you could feel his breath on your lips.
You also caught him many times with his eyes on you. You could feel those deep, dark pearls on your skin. You wondered why.
What you didn't know was that the boy could have spent hours watching you, doing the simplest things or even doing nothing at all. And he caught himself blushing and smiling most of the times. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were captivating in a way he couldn't explain: he couldn't find words to.
Something in the way you moved, in the way you enjoyed that place, in the way you smiled, made him feel strangely inside. Something he hadn't felt in a very long time was booming in him: maybe he was falling for you.
You thought many times about staying there, forever.
But you knew you couldn't. You hadn't enough supplies to live there forever.
And when Taehyung, on the 6th day, told you "In two days we're packing" you could feel your heart shrinking a bit.
You would have missed this place.
On the morning of the 7th day, you began looking around the farm to pack all the things you would need in your imminent journey.
Taehyung did the same, and started to look around every single corner of the kitchen, hoping to find some hidden treasure that he would eventually need in the future.
He opened the drawer of the kitchen near the stove and, to his surprise, he found something that he didn’t expect. An old piece of paper wrapped in what seemed like a torn piece of flannel was placed untouched in there.
Taehyung opened it carefully, as if the was afraid the paper was going to crumble if he hadn't treated it gently enough and he tried to stop his heart from beating out of his chest.
As soon as he took off the cloth from the letter with shaking hands, a small ring came to his view – intertwined around the cloth that Taehyung was now squeezing in his hand.
Tears suddenly came to his eyes at the sight of his grandmother’s handwriting and, with a shaky breath, he worked up the courage to read it.
Dear Taehyung,
I don’t know if you’re going to read what I’m writing but I’m sure that you will eventually find your way back home to check on this place when you’ll have the possibility. I know that it’s different from what you remembered but this old house couldn’t survive the outbreak and – for our displeasure – neither did your old grandparents. We thought that they couldn’t touch us in our little farm, because we’re distant from the city, but we were wrong and the apocalypse made it’s way everywhere. Me and your grandfather are okay and on our way to the forest when we’ll peacefully stay forever next to each other. We’re on our fifth day after we’ve been bitten and, for what it has been said, tomorrow morning we’ll turn. I’m not sad nor desperate in this moment, because I’ve lived a great life so far and I knew that my time would eventually come, however the reason for my passing is way different from what I thought it will be – way more unexpected. I pray to god everyday that you’re okay and Jimin too, I was so worried when you decided to go in the city, but I know that you’re independent and strong enough to deal with this on your own. You’ll eventually fall in love and It’s a pity that I won’t be there to treat her like a daughter – but I’m sure that the love you’ll provide her will be enough. The ring that your grandfather gifted me is in here and it’s my will that you give it to her. In this environment, I know that falling in love is not something that you would accept because you always wanted to play safe, even when you were just a child. But remember that you can’t push away your feelings. Even in this disaster, I’m happy because I’m staying with your grandfather by my side and I need nothing more to be satisfied. I hope you’ll open up your heart as well.  I love you very very much and so does your grandfather. Never change who you really are because of the matters that are coming up, live your life without regrets and always be nice.
With all the love, Grandma
Taehyung felt something dying and growing at the same time in his chest.
The letter that he was still holding in his hands was so bittersweet.
He could hear his grandmother reading it, her sweet tone saying that she was alright and that she was going to be alright forever, even if that wasn’t the truth – and Taehyung knew that. He knew that they weren’t alright, and that Jimin wasn’t alright, he felt so guilty.
He disappointed everyone. His grandparents, Jimin, his grandparents.
But he was not going to disappoint you.
Taehyung could see you from that spot in the kitchen through the window, while you were planting flowers in the garden, directly in front of the entrance of the house. Looking at that sight, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Care to tell me why you’re planting flowers?” He teased, talking loudly enough for you to hear.
Tears were still in his eyes but you didn’t see them when you looked up to meet his gaze. You only saw that sweet smile on him and you couldn’t help but to grin as well.
“Because maybe who will come here after us will feel a it more at home if this place looks lovelier.” You responded, giving him a genuine and sweet smile. You reminded him so much of his grandmother. Always caring for others, always trying to see the better in the terrible world you were forced to live in.
The smile was still on his lips when he realized he still had the ring in his hand.
He was planning on keeping it and treating it like a diamond, he wanted to have a memory of his past always with him.
But then he thought about you, and maybe what he should have done was caring about the future, still remembering the past.
That was what grandma wanted.
Taehyung smiled sadly, putting the rung and the letter in the pocket of his jeans and made his way towards you.
Your clothes were covered of dirt and you looked like a child – having fun playing in the playground.
“Are you going to plant flowers all day?” He asked you, stopping in front of you, looking at you kneeled with an amazed look on his face.
“I just planted the last one, I think I should take a bath to get refreshed.” You said and he furrowed his brows at your statement.
“We don’t have water in our house.” He responded and you got up, smiling at him before walking away.
“There’s a lake for a reason.” You said and he followed you unsure.
“Aren’t you going to freeze?” Taehyung asked again and you scoffed, taking off your hoodie in front of the water.
He felt his breath stuck in his throat at your bold action.
“C’mon, I’m covered in dirt and I don’t even remember the last time I washed myself. The only thing that we have to remember civilization is hygiene.” You responded, taking off your pants as well and he stayed still, looking at you naked in front of him. He gulped, looking at your naked back before feeling a smirk coming up in his face.
You were only wearing your bra and your panties, but Taehyung was still a man and the outbreak couldn’t stop his personal needs.
“Are you flirting with me Y/N? Because getting naked in front of me is a pretty bold move.” He teased, crossing his arms in front of his chest – smirking when you turned around shocked to face him. You tried to cover up your surprise look with a more confident one before starting to speak.
“I don’t know…” You muttered, acting as if you were thinking – the water already up to your hips.
“Why don’t you follow me to find out?” You yelled before throwing yourself in the water, leaving a grinning Taehyung behind.
The water was cold, but it was refreshing to wash out of your body the dirt that you had on your skin since you arrived at the farm.
When you got out of the water, you opened your eyes only to find Taehyung busy taking unbuckling his belt and taking off his pants. His sweater was already on the ground and for the first time you had a perfect view of his toned body.
His tan skin shined with the reflection of the water and he had a small smirk stamped on his face as he walked in the lake towards you.
“So how is it? Cold?” You asked him, and he shook his head – bluffing.
“I fight with zombies every day, princess. I’m not going to make a fuss for some water.” He said cockily, still grinning while looking at your direction.
You rolled your eyes, splashing the water on his naked torso and he let out a loud scream.
“Fucking shit!” He jumped at the feeling of the coldness against his skin and you couldn’t help but to burst out laughing at his cusses.
Taehyung smiled at the sound of your laugh, feeling like he should’ve taken revenge and soon ran towards you.
“You like playing dirty uh? I’ll show you how to play dirty.” He muttered loudly enough for you to hear before picking you up and throwing you on his shoulder – ignoring your little cries and insults.
“What are you doing?! Tae the water is too shallow!” You screamed, trying to get out of his grip as he walked – chuckling. His hands gripped tightly your thighs and for a moment you felt a light blush appear to your cheeks, because you two had never been so close before. His torso moved up and down as he let out low chuckles that made your heart beat faster than before, but in a matter of a couple of seconds, his touch left your skin and you found yourself thrown in the water again – without warning.
Taehyung laughed, looking around the lake expecting you to come out ready to yell at him – but his heart became to beat faster when he was met with complete silence.
“Y/N?!” He yelled out, feeling completely shocked and afraid as he looked for you under the water – finally noticing you three feet away from him.
“Oh my fucking god!” He yelled, jumping in to take you out and afraid that he had hurt you by accident.
His arms wrapped around you as he brought you up to the surface, hugging you with all the power that he had in his body.
Your eyes were closed and he looked around your face, trying to see if you were hurt anywhere.
“Please tell me you’re okay.” He muttered shakily caressing your face before jumping at the sight of you opening your eyes.
“Dude do you like me that much?” You asked before cracking up for the prank that you had successfully pulled on him. Taehyung let you go, touching his heart with a hand before looking back at you.
“I didn’t think that you would fall for it.” You said in between the laughs, looking at his pale expression.
In that moment - looking at you with wet and shiny skin, a bright smile on your face and the sound of your clear laugh echoing in the air – he finally realized.
Yes, he did like you that much.
"Where will we go tomorrow?" your words broke the comfortable silence in which you were absorbed, still enjoying the freshness of the water.
"I guess I'll just follow the road. We need to find supplies, and places that have them are big cities, most of the time. We're not that far from one, if I'm not wrong. And we need to find a safe place.".
You listened quietly before you asked "Will you miss this place?".
Taehyung looked at you deeply "Of course I will. But we'll be alright anywhere safe".
As long as you are with me.
"I guess I'm gonna go back in, it's getting colder. You coming?" He asked you but you shook your head.
You wanted to enjoy all of it one last time
"Yeah, just in a bit." you smiled.
He smiled back before turning and reaching the shore.
He was right, it was getting colder - the landscape around you was beginning to turn golden as the sun went down and his body too: you could see his dark skin turning gold, illuminated by rays of light.
You had never seen someone so majestic.
He didn't look majestic in the typical prince way, neither he looked like a Greek god.
He looked so captivating and surreal because he was real. You could see little scars on his body, and those little imperfections that to your eyes seemed even more beautiful.
In that bright landscape he seemed even more bright to you.
You then turned around as well and gave a fond look to everything that surrounded you falling in love with that place once again.
And maybe it was because of the magic you two were living there, because you were well aware it wasn't just the landscape you were in love with.
Not many minutes later you decided to get out of the water, realizing that the clothes who you had used that they, were the only ones who were still more or less cleaned.
You felt the chilly air hitting your wet body, softly but piercingly and you hugged your chest, trying to cover up your naked skin.
“Fuck.” You muttered, beginning to walk towards the farm.
You stood in front of the car thinking about what could you do, when Taehyung brought you to reality.
"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you're gonna freeze!" he was looking at you from the back of the pick up – worry stamped on his face - and immediately started looking in your bag for clothes.
"I-I don't have anymore clothes" You answered stuttering, cussing in your mind at the sound of your voice, full of embarrassment.
As soon as he heard you, he immediately pulled out a t-shirt and a sweatshirt, running towards you.
He helped you wearing them, even though you insisted that you could do it by yourself, and he gave you quick rubs against your shoulders before walking inside the living room.
Taehyung had lit up the fireplace and ordered you to sit in front of it for a while – relaxing at the warmth of the fire. His shirt almost reached half of your thighs, and the sleeves of the sweatshirt were definitely too long for your relatively short arms.
I must look ridiculous. You thought, pouting every now and then while looking at the clothes.
The boy, on the other hand, didn't think you looked one bit ridiculous. You looked beautiful. And he felt something in his chest when he looked at you, curled in a ball in front of the fireplace, trying to warm up with his clothes on.
It felt right, seeing you with something that belonged to him. You felt his. Not in a possessive way – Taehyung felt like only he had the right and the duty to protect you, and to make you feel at ease.
He would have fought everyone to let you be safe.
You two sat on the couch for a while in silence without talking much, but Taehyung’s thoughts were interrupted by your sudden movement and your sweet voice, that asked him to join you on the back of the pick up for a while.
“It’s a great night, maybe we could even see the stars.” You told him, trying to convince him because you didn’t want to be alone – not when you knew that he could keep you company.
He looked at you, trying to mask his happiness at your request with a fake, annoyed tone.
“Ughh…Fine, princess.” He said getting up, making you blush once again with the pet name that he had decided to use for you.
You had already heard it before, but it always made your heart beat faster.
Not much after, you were both sitting on the mattress in the car, hearing the sounds of the night and looking at the small dots of lights in the sky.
“What is your biggest concern?” He suddenly asked, breaking the silence with his rough and low toned voice.
“Mh?” You turned your face towards him, distracted by the stars.
“Your concern. Do you have one now?” He asked you again repeating the question and you looked back at the sky, thinking deeply about the answer.
“Is ‘trying not to get killed’ too lame?” You said, making him chuckle lightly.
“I guess that everyone’s concern is related to surviving now. I would like to be safe…feel like I don’t need to worry about walking around without a gun or a knife, or whatever.” You continued and he nodded – understanding perfectly what you were trying to say.
“It would be nice.” He muttered, resting his head to the iron behind him while looking up.
“For how long do you think that this will go on?” This time around, you were the one that asked the question and Taehyung sighed before starting to speak.
“I think that it will go on for a long time. We should try to find a safe place and after everything will come to an end, we’ll just relax and maybe come back here to live at the farm.” He said, making you widen your eyes at his words. You didn’t think he would want to stay by your side even without survival purpose, but that affirmation made you feel happy inside.
“It would be nice.” You muttered, copying the tone that he had previously used and causing a small laugh to get out of his pink lips.
“You know what I’m afraid of?” He asked once again – a tint of sadness in his eyes in contrast with the curiosity that filled yours.
It was the first time for you to hear him speak this much.
“Forgetting about what It was like before.” You furrowed your brows, not quite understanding where he was coming from.
“You won’t forget about anything.” You said firmly and this time, he looked at you in the eyes – waiting for a further explanation.
“You have your memories and that’s the only thing that matters. You have emotions still livid in your mind and everything related to them will stay for the rest of your life.” You continued, noticing a small smile on his face.
You two went quiet after that, mesmerized by the hundreds lights in front of your eyes and you both breathed calmly as the stars hung above you – as if strung in the air by invisible strings.
They were filling the darkness, transforming the jet black color of the sky into a beautiful blue haze that hid galaxies in it.
You could have stayed there for an eternity, as long as Taehyung stayed by your side.
“Y/N?” Your name came out like a soft breeze from his lips and you felt chills run down your spine at the sound.
“What do you miss the most about the normality?” He asked without diverting his gaze from the little lights that made his skin shine as if it was porcelain.
You turned your head, looking at him and you felt frozen despite the, now warmer, weather.
You stopped your gaze to his features, admiring the beauty that he owned as soft bows of winds moved his long hair out of his eyes – thinking that a person like him was probably surreal.
From the moment you saw him for the first time as he saved your life – taking you under his wing to protect you from the nightmares that were becoming reality in the world – you knew that he was surreal and you could call yourself lucky, only because you had the chance to stay by his side.
“I wish I could love without being afraid.” You whispered without looking away from him, feeling your heart beat like drumrolls.
Taehyung moved as those words came to his hears, turning slowly his head to look at you in the eyes – losing himself inside them.
You stayed like this for a couple of seconds, just looking at each other eyes without making a sound and it seemed like an eternity before someone finally decided to do something.
Your breath got caught in your throat as Taehyung grabbed your face with his hands before smashing his lips on yours like he had tried to restrain himself from doing that for the longest time.
You melted as soon as his chapped, strong lips started moving roughly against yours. And when you started kissing him back, you immediately felt something passing in every single part of your body like a shock, in every vein, every nerve, every inch of flesh.
You didn't know what it was at first: fear, surprise, desire, arousal.
But as soon as he started nibbling at your lower lip you realized what kind of sensation was running through your bones. You parted your lips slightly to let his tongue in, but the boy kept on nibbling until he suddenly reclaimed your lips, brushing your tongue with his.
He kept on kissing you deeply until he moved his hands from your face and tightly gripped you hips, guiding them until you were positioned on his lap, your legs not covered anymore by this shirt –wrapped around his hips. You broke the kiss at the sudden motion, almost gasping for air and letting out shaky breaths.
"You have no much I wanted to do this..." he said against your throat with a very low tone, enough to send vibration directly to your lower body.
"No much I've wanted to touch you...". His warm hands started wandering on your naked thighs, under them, brushing your curves, while his lips were starting to suck and nibble on your collarbones.
Your lips opened lightly to let out a soft moan as he started, and you could feel him smirking against your skin "Are we sensitive already, princess? I just started." he whispered, lips now against your ear.
You wanted to feel him, you needed to feel him. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, and his lips left your soft skin so as he could pull the fabric off of him, immediately reattaching them to your neck.
His nibbles and sucks were getting rougher and stronger, causing you to let out louder moans and to lightly scratch his back, to which he responded with a low growl.
He stopped and let out a loud moan when he felt you grinding on his hard lap, desperate to find friction.
"Do it again, princess." he said, although he didn’t have the need - you were already grinding again and again, every time rougher than the previous.
"Fuck Y/N, since when you were- oh god- this needy, mm?". You smirked before starting to breathe against his ear, and every moan you let out went directly to his lap, sending shocks in his body. You tried to move your hips, but his hands kept them still against him. You couldn't move or find friction in any way while he kept on marking your skin.
"Tae, let me move...I need to move" you moaned out, but he seemed too busy to hear you, sucking harshly on your skin.
"I-It hurts, please". As you whined, he finally let your neck free and tapped his thigh.
"Sit here and start grinding. Let's see how much it will take you" he challenged you.
You immediately left his lap and positioned to hug his thigh with your legs, your hands on his strong, bare shoulders and started moving.
You weren't getting any friction, having still your panties on. Taehyung saw you struggling and started tugging at your panties, as a signal to take them off.
Once you removed the cloth, he groaned at the sight of you bare and harshly took your shirt off of you, leaving only your bra on.
As soon as your lips brushed his thigh, you rolled back your head. You hadn't any type of sexual activity since the outbreak and you had been feeling extremely sensitive for months now. Your loud moans were driving Taehyung insane and you didn't even notice how he started unbuckling his belt, taking out his member from his pants to arouse himself while looking at you riding his thigh. He started stroking himself as he kept his eyes on you, your movement were getting rougher at each grind as you watched him getting off.
"Holy shit princess, you look so good like that, getting off while thinking of me stroking against you, uh?".
"Oh my god.” You moaned - each grind sending you close to your orgasm.
“You like hearing me talking like this? I’ve been wanting to fuck you since I saw you changing for the first time thinking that I was sleeping next to you. Fuck, I just wanted to take you and bend you down on the car sit under me. Pumping my dick in you until you couldn’t walk anymore.” He moaned in your ear, taking off your bra to squeeze your breasts with his big hand. With a quick movement, he bounced his leg up – throwing you off the edge.
You came with a loud and long moan, slowing down the movement of your hips as you grabbed his hair, pulling it slightly and Taehyung growled at the sight, feeling close to his orgasm.
Looking down at the huge, wet spot that stained his pants under you, he reached his high as well, feeling so much relief at the release he had waited for so long.
You gave him small kisses along his jawline and he let out a satisfied moan, pulling you closer to his chest with his arms wrapped around your torso.
You did the same around his neck and Taehyung got up from his seated position – keeping you up with his hands on your thighs as he tried to place you lightly on your back, so that he could show you how much he was in love with you.
Unfortunately, because of the euphoria that he still had in his body – or because of the darkness of the night – he failed to measure well enough the size of the mattress, causing you to bang your head against the edge of the car.
As soon as Taehyung heard the loud sound, followed by a whine that came out of your mouth – the boy widened his eyes, distancing himself from your body to look at you better.
“Holy shit! Y/N are you okay?!” He panicked, looking guilty as you touched your head – already knowing that a bump would come out.
“Princess I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you that much?” He asked, looking at you with worry in his face – that soon dissolved when you started cracking up.
“We’re a mess.” You laughed, making him giggle at your words as he helped you out before placing a kiss on your forehead.
You looked up, letting a small kiss to his lips as he tried to lay you down again – this time keeping one hand under you head.
Taehyung started kissing the skin on your neck, where purple hickeys were already showing, and his hands caressed your body wandering around the naked skin. You could feel the heat that his body was realizing.
He touched your thigh, drawing small circles on the skin with his fingers and your breath got caught on your throat. You looked at him with an apologizing expression as he moved away to look at you in the eyes with furrowed brows, stopping all of his movements.
“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, searching for a source of unease on your face but you shook your head at his question.
“No, you did nothing wrong- It’s just that I’m a bit sensible there.” You said and he looked down on your thigh, widening his eyes at the sight of the huge scar drawn on the skin.
“Is it…?” You nodded, already knowing what the rest of his sentence was going to say and he hummed in understanding, tracing his fingers on the long scar with care and gentleness.
He moved away from you without listening to your small whine at the loss of his touch and he lightly opened your legs, placing himself between them.
You gasped at the sensation of his lips kissing the scar and your hand moved to grab his hair without you noticing.
He traced small kissed along the marked skin keeping eye contact with you as he touched around it with his lips.
“This doesn’t define who you are, it only shows that you’re strong and that you survived.” He whispered looking at you in the eyes, causing you to blush lightly before going on with his pecks, making you moan gently as he started kissing your groin – squeezing your legs with his hands.
When he realized that you felt at ease with the strange sensation that was flowing through your body, he started licking through your folds with his warm muscle. You felt every inch getting hotter and hotter as the licks became more rough, until he started teasing your clit with the tip of the tongue. Your breaths became whimpers and then loud moans as he alternated licks and sucks on the most sensitive part of your body: he was making you go crazy.
You tug on his hair almost seemed like you wanted him to stop, or at least that's what the boy thought. But your sounds of satisfaction were saying the complete opposite. And they got louder as soon as he inserted one of his long fingers to stretch you out.
"Do you enjoy it, princess? " he said against your clit, and you could feel every single vibration coming from his lips going straight inside of you.
Your response was a breathy and shaky "'Yes" followed by another moan, at the sudden sensation of having other two fingers inside of you. As soon as they started curling and moving, you didn't know how but you found the strength to grip his hair even tighter.
"God, Tae, don't stop please" you whimpered and you felt his lips detach from your clit a second, just to look at you with a smirk on his face. You could still feel his breath on your groin and you whined at the lost of touch.
"How could I not keep you satisfied, with those moans of appreciation that you let out of those delicious lips of yours." he whispered and breathed on your clit, reattaching to them immediately.
The pace of his fingers increased, and his mouth began to suck harder and harder.
It didn't take long for you to be so near to the edge, again.
''I-I'm close, oh fuck, so close" you let out pushing him even more towards your entrance.
He suddenly detached from you, taking his fingers out and you whined even louder, far too euphoric to complain. Feeling the urge to come, you touched your own clit and tried to come by yourself - but he grabbed your hands and put them above your head. "Not like that, princess. I want to feel you coming around me, okay? Full of my cock." he whispered directly on your ear, and the need to come was stronger than ever as he got out of his pants and boxers. You could finally see him entirely for the first time: he didn't look real. He was giving off an aura of desire, dominance: you couldn't help but stare at his features.
"Like what you see?" he smirked.
"You're stunning.” You muttered, causing him to blush at the sound of that compliment.
He didn't expect that. His smirk suddenly dropped, and he looked at you with wide eyes. He brought a hand to your cheek and kissed you deeply.
"You should see yourself, princess. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on.” He began leaving soft pecks around your mouth, down to your throat, then to your breasts as he spread your legs to place himself in between them with impatience. You knew that his touch would leave bruises on you but you were feeling too much pleasure to care.
He grabbed his hard cock, teasing your clit by brushing it against you for a moment – trailing it along your own intimacy until he heard a long moan get out of your lips – you were feeling something that no one had ever made you feel before, his touch was becoming like an addiction for you.
After he believed that he had teased you too long, he grabbed your hips roughly, pushing inside.
You wrapped your arms around his torso, scratching his back with your nails as you moaned in pleasure at the filling of his cock buried inside you. He groaned as well, moving slowly his hips – feeling how tight you were around him and how wet you were as he fucked you. As soon as both of you got used to the feeling of being wrapped around each others, Taehyung started to move more frantically, slamming his hips against yours and causing both of you to let out strangled moans and whimpers.
“You’re making me feel so good.” You groaned, receiving a moan from him in response.
He pulled you onto him with each thrust, fucking you roughly against the mattress without showing any sign of exhaustion.
“You feel so fucking good around me, so wet and tight for my cock.” He groaned, rolling his hips around you as he held onto your leg, pulling it against his chest so that he could bury his dick even more deep inside you – hitting your G-spot.
“Oh my fucking god.” You cried out, feeling a sense of pleasure that you had never experienced before. You pushed your hips against his, trying to get him to hit that spot again and he quickly understood what you were trying to do.
“Has no one ever fucked you this good? Mh? No one reached so deep inside you before?” He asked with a growl as he slammed his cock in your G-spot, causing you to gasp and moan louder then before while clenching the soft mattress with your hands.
“F-Fuck Tae, keep going.”  You moaned, feeling his hands on your ass cheeks as he raised your hips, moving them up and down to rub yourself on him.
You were just about to have your orgasm and Taehyung’s shaky breaths were telling you that he was feeling the same way – you closed your eyes at the enormous pleasure but he grabbed your face harshly, causing you to open them instantly.
“Look at me.” He gasped, looking down at your sweaty and naked body.
Your breasts were moving as he slammed himself on you and your teary, tired eyes were looking at him with arousal and pleasure – cumming on his cock.
“Shit, you look so pretty like this.” He moaned, feeling himself on the edge at the feeling of your hot, wet liquid on him.
“Cum on me.” You whispered, looking at him with your doll-like eyes as he pulled out from you – pumping his hard and throbbing cock with his hand. He rolled his head back as he reached his orgasm – hot and wet drops of cum reaching your breasts as he came without looking away from your body.
You were both still trying to catch your breath as he suddenly got up, looking for something in his bag. You wanted to get up as well but you were feeling too weak to move. Wondering was he was trying to do, you waited for him to lie back down when you felt a hand brushing your hip and thigh, and then a soft cloth against your chest.
You saw Taehyung leaned above you, busy trying to clean you up as good as he could. His other hand was still massaging your side. You blushed slightly at the sight of his lovely expression - once he was done cleaning your chest, he pulled away to reach in between your legs, squeezing your side just to warn you, the sensation of the cloth was probably going to bother you. You still felt sensitive down there, and Taehyung was trying his best to clean you up without hurting you.
After making sure that you were clean, he laid beside you covering you and himself up with a blanket, and moved your back near him, against his chest as his arms sneaked around your hips.
You could feel his heartbeat on your back, his soft breath on your heart.
You felt so peaceful. His hand started wandering lightly on your sides, belly and thighs as he spoke softly.
"Are you okay? ". His voice felt like honey, warm and golden to your ear.
“Yeah." you responded with a small smile on your face, but he couldn't see you, so you turned so that you could face him.
As soon as he saw your beautiful eyes, your pink, warm lips, something lit up in his chest.
You were so beautiful.
"Y/N... " he started shakily.
He was anxious. It wasn't easy for him, to let out everything. To let you know what he had felt for you since the beginning. It wasn't easy to tell you he loved you. But he had do. He needed to.
You were looking at him with a curious and slightly concerned eyes.
He brought a hand to brush the hair off your face, and brushed your lips with his fingertips.
"Y/N...I... I know this might sound scary to you, and honestly it scares me too. But I've been feeling this way since the first time I saw you. And I'm not talking about when I first saw you during the outbreak. I'm talking about when I first saw you as yourself. That's when I fell for you. I fell for you when you started arguing back, when you started being more comfortable with what you had to deal with, when you began opening yourself with me. I fell for you when I saw your dreamy gaze on your face as you looked around here. I fell for you when I realized what a beautiful, stunning, unique creature you are, Y/N. And you have no idea of how happy I am when I see you smile, when I hear you laugh, when I realize you're not scared to deal with this world. You make me happy in a way that no one else has ever had.".
He could feel your breath against his fingers. He could see the tears in your eyes.
But you also saw his.
"I love you and even if we were trying to stay together without catching feelings, I couldn’t help but fell for you." he breathed out, and in that moment you've never felt so happy.
You felt at home right there, in his arms.
"I love you too Tae. So so much" you finally said. You had waited to much to tell him.
And when you did you felt light as air.
Taehyung caressed your face, brushing his thumb on your lips before kissing them deeply one last time.
You felt sparks in you. For the first time you could feel the pure form of love, affection, on his lips.
You could have stayed like this forever and that's how you fell asleep, that night: with the brightest smile on your face, his heartbeat and the sound of the wind to sink you to sleep. You've never been more grateful that you were alive. And even if you had to fight the world to survive, it was worth it as long as you had him by your side.
The next day you woke up to the sound of birds and to the feeling of a soft blanket on your naked body. He was beside you, looking at you with the softest eyes.
"Good morning" you mumbled softly, still a bit sleepy.
"Good morning princess." he said kissing your nose. He was already dressed, and, wrapping the blanket around your chest, you felt embarrassed at your state.
He saw your cheeks heating up and chuckled.
"It's not like I've not seen you naked already" he teased you while getting off the back of the pick up.
You let out a small chuckle that soon went away, replaced by a smile.
"We have to go, don't we?" you said with a frown on your face.
"We'll come back. I promise." he was looking at you directly in the eyes. He wasn't lying.
You nodded with a small smile. You trusted him.
After getting dressed, you two went around the farm one last time to make sure you had everything. Ten minutes later you were on your seat. Taehyung started the car, and as soon as the landscape around you started moving, you felt a bit of sadness making its way in your head.
You saw Taehyung giving you a soft smile, which you returned and you found yourself on the road again.
“What do we need to find?” You asked Taehyung as he parked the car at the side of the street, looking in the distance at an abandoned shopping mall.
“Food, if you want you can also see if they have clothes for you because you don’t have many.” He said taking two guns out of the car – handing one to you.
You took it, holding tightly on it before following his quick steps and reaching the entrance of the building.
It was pretty big, the walls were gray and many holes and cracked marked them all around, there weren’t many things inside, probably because a shop this big attracted the attention of many people and you weren’t the first one that came up with the idea of stealing sources.
“Let’s split, you’ll check there and I’ll check here.” You said, looking at the cupboards with various snacks and foods. Taehyung nodded, heading out to look at the other aisle of the building where hopefully there were more things to take.
You stuffed your backpack with everything that you could find, cussing out loud every time you realized that the food you had in your hand was expired.
“Do you have anything in there?” Taehyung yelled from the other room, frustration vivid in his voice.
“Not much, the majority is expired but I have a bunch of sweets in my backpack. Maybe its enough.” You yelled back, walking towards the the other aisle where he was. Every shelf was completely empty and only dust filled the air.
“I guess we need to find another place; this one has nothing.” Taehyung muttered with a pout on his face before turning around – ready to go back in the car and drive down the road.
You were just about to follow him, ready with your backpack on your shoulders when you heard someone call your name.
You stopped in your track, confusion stamped on your face as you looked at Taehyung’s back.
“Did you heard it?” You asked him and the boy turned around, looking more confused than you.
“Heard what?” He responded, staying silent for a couple of seconds to heard if anything made a noise.
A loud coughing resounded in the empty building and you felt chills roll down your spine.
Taehyung grabbed your hand, ready to pull you out and ran away from there but you pushed his hand away.
“He called my name.” You murmured and Taehyung looked at you as if he was about to kill you.
“We need to go away Y/N!” You walked around the hallway with your gun tight on your hand, looking for the source of the noise when you suddenly heard your name again.
“Y/N! I’m here!” It came out like a murmur but you understood it as soon as that voice came to your ears. Taehyung tried to follow you and pull you back outside but you ran in one of the rooms, freezing at the sight.
You didn’t recognized him at first, but after a couple of seconds you understood: there he was.
Barely standing on those skinny legs, the remaining parts of the blouse he used to always wear to work coated in blood. Your eyes started watering as soon as he looked at you with a smile on his face.
"...d-dad?" you sobbed, ignoring the yells of Taehyung behind you,
He looked at you with hopeful eyes, but you saw a trace of sadness.
"Oh god Y/N I'm so happy you're here!" he sounded normal. But you knew he wasn't. You couldn't take your eyes off the bite on the exposed skin of his shoulder. Tears were filling your eyes. Why was he acting like that?
"Dad what...what happened to you" you were shocked.
"Y/N! " you heard Taehyung’s voice closer to you, but he stopped yelling as soon as he saw what was happening in front of you.
"I... I don't know..." your father looked confused at his shoulder, almost scared.
"Oh my god" Taehyung had finally reached you and held your hand tightly.
"He's delirious... I...I don’t know what happened.” You cried, looking at him full of fear and he answered with a look full of pity.
“I think he couldn’t sustain the loss of who was around him.” Taehyung said grabbing you by your hand – so that you wouldn’t get close to him.
Your heart broke. You couldn't let him turn into a zombie.
"W-when did they bite you? " you asked with a fake smile on your face, maybe he wasn’t understanding the gravity of what was happening.
"I think five days ago... I don't remember exactly.” Now he was smiling. It seemed like he turned into a different person in a matter of seconds. He wasn’t your father. He was far gone. Maybe you should’ve stayed with him the night of the apocalypse – if you did, now he wouldn’t be traumatized.
Your tears were painting your face as you thought about how he used to be, and what he had become.
"I can't let him go, Tae. I don’t want to. " you turned to him with imploring eyes and he looked at you with sadness.
"He's going to turn into one of them tomorrow, Y/N. We can't bring him with us. You turn after 5 days."
"He's the only member of my family I have left" you implored.
"I don't want him to suffer. Not again.". Your dad was walking around the room, like nothing was happening. It almost seemed like he didn't know he was going to turn into a monster.
"There's only one not let him suffer anymore...and to not let him transform. " Taehyung looked at you deeply holding your hands.
You knew exactly what he was talking about. You panicked, shaking your head desperately.
" It can't be the only way. " you were crying even harder.
"I'm so sorry. " he looked at you, tears forming on his own eyes. He was devastated too.
It was the only thing to do. You knew it.
"O..Okay…Okay." You whispered heavily, closing your eyes to calm yourself down.
"Can you try to get him to lay down? That way it won't be that difficult...". Taehyung asked with a soft voice, petting your shoulder and you nodded sniffling before turning away.
You started walking towards your dad who was now looking at some broken glass on the floor.
"Dad...hey dad, can you please lay down a bit? You should rest" you said to him, coughing to get a steadier voice. You heart ached more at every word. Every lie. Every fake smile.
"Sure, I think I might take a nap. Are we going home after that?" he asked you hopeful.
"Of course we will, dad. We're going bring you with us." Lies.
“I missed you so much Y/N I almost died from how worried I was. Luckily I didn’t and now we can stay together.” He said with a smile as he laid down looking at you – you felt your heart break.
As soon as he closed his eyes, you turned towards Taehyung.
He had his hands around his gun.
"Come here. " he said softly, signing you to hug him – so that he could hide your face in his chest.
"I can't do it... I can't" You sobbed.
"You can, Y/N. You're doing what's best for him, okay? There’s no other way." he pecked the top of your head, placing the cold gun in your hands before bringing you arm up, pointing at your father.
"I'm going to aim for you, okay? "
You nodded without looking away from the cloth of his shirt.
"Close your eyes. ". You did. You could feel your hands around the gun, his around yours.
Your fingers on the trigger. His breath against your ear.
"Everything will be okay. " You nodded through the pain.
As soon as the bang of the gun echoed in the air, you felt empty.
The gun fell on the floor and so did you, covered with tears.
After an hour after what had happened, you were back in the car seat next to Taehyung, as he searched for a place that could contain something useful. You felt numb and tired, almost as if you were just living a dream – or a nightmare – and you couldn’t get up.
When Taehyung started the car you didn't even notice.
You were too overwhelmed and started feeling nauseous as he kept on driving, until you told him to stop the car and threw up on the sidewalk. For a moment you thought that you were sick, but you knew that it was only in your head.
"It's going to get better, I promise". He kept on reassuring you, while driving to another forgotten place to rob.
Since you hadn’t found anything at the mall, you needed to stop somewhere else.
You wanted to ask him where were you headed, but words couldn't seem to exit your mouth.
The next hours passed slowly and quietly.
None of you said a word. Your gun was still on the dashboard, where Taehyung put it, and you didn’t dare to look at it.
It was getting darker outside, and even though the windows were closed you started to feel the cold air in your bones.
"Princess" he called you softly.
You didn't face him. You kept on watching the landscape moving around you. A sigh escaped from his lips.
"Y/N....we’re stopping for a bit. We have to find something to eat, we're almost out of everything. Okay?" he was looking at you with sad eyes and a hand on your thigh.
You nodded after looking at him, but when you two arrived at the place, you wish you never did.
You were in a small abandoned city and the road was empty, like everything else.
The aura of that placed was too ghostly. It was scaring you to death.
He stopped the car in front of an abandoned building that seemed in pretty good conditions but something still didn't feel right.
Once you got out of the car, you started hearing sounds; Glass creaking, wind blowing, doors moving.
You were getting more anxious by every minute.
"Tae this doesn't feel right. Let's go something else." you said tugging his wrist and looking towards the car.
"We can't, Y/N. This might be a good place to find something. We have to try." he said firmly.
"Have you not heard all those noises? We can't be the only one here, Tae."
"Fine, I’ll stay out here so that nobody enters. And if I see anything I’ll search for you right away."  he suggested. You were still unsure, but you needed to find things to eat – so you just nodded, going inside the dark and gloomy place.
When you entered the building, everything seemed normal. You couldn't tell what was his function, it was almost empty. Dust covered the walls and the rooms where lightened up by a couple of broken windows. The hallway didn’t have anything useful inside, so you decided to go up and see if on the first floor you could find some food.
You climbed the stairs as quietly as you could, still hearing some sounds now and then that made you freak out. You tried not to think too much about it, because you knew that your mind could play tricks – especially after what had happened with your father a couple of hours before.
The ends of the stairs led to what seemed like a kitchen full of cabinets, that you hoped contained something.
Walking slowly towards them, you started to open every pantry one by one, finding nothing eatable nor anything that could be useful for you or Taehyung.
When you reached to open the last cabinet, you heard a strange sound that made you froze on the spot. This time you were sure that it wasn’t anything made up by your mind, but you had actually heard that noise in real life.
Looking around anxiously, you tried to see what could have been and you took a knife out of your pocket to defend yourself from whoever could be there.
You stayed silent, looking at a cupboard that had the door ajar, but you decided not to walk towards it – feeling like it could be a bad idea.
You took one step back, trying to get out of the kitchen as quietly as possible, but something blocked your way and you ended up kicking a piece of wood that had probably fallen from the ceiling.
Letting out a small cuss, you backed away quickly, noticing something moving from inside the storage room and soon, a monster made his way out – looking directly at you.
The zombie had white eyes and blood all over himself, the skin was peeling off from his flesh and the clothes that he had on where almost all ripped off.
“Fuck!” You let out, looking at the zombie that was now chasing you, before running away – feeling adrenaline on your whole body as you tried to get away from him.
Your legs were working as fast as they could, but it wasn't enough, you almost slipped, trying to get out of the room - feeling the movements of the zombie getting closer and closer. He let out loud grunts and growls that made your chills roll down your spine.
You screamed as loud as you could, knowing that Taehyung wasn’t too far from you but as soon as you tried to look for him, the body of the zombie slammed into yours and you found yourself on the ground, crying and cussing in an attempt of getting it off of you.
Taehyung was keeping an eye on the entrance of the building when he heard something. Something similar to a muffled cry.
As he was tried to understand who might have let it out, he heard your voice and widened his eyes after he realized that you were screaming.
He started running as fast as he could inside, not caring about the broken glass under his feet - immediately getting up after he slipped on them. You kept on screaming and for a moment Taehyung thought that he was going insane, trying to understand where it was coming from. He began climbing sets of stairs as the screams grew louder.
He then saw you laying on the ground, trying to move away the zombie that was above you.
You were kicking, screaming, freaking out as you fought with all your strength the pale, bloody monster above you.
You started to feel excruciating pain as the monster grabbed you roughly trying to tear your flesh apart with his rotten teeth, but despite it you managed to kick him giving Taehyung the opportunity to shot him dead in the head.
The body of the zombie dropped down emotionless and Taehyung ran towards you, full of fear and regret as he helped you get up.
"Fuck, I shouldn't have let you come here alone, are you okay? Did he hurt you?" you were looking at him in the eye without talking - your eyes wide. He looked more frustrated than before after he got silence as an answer.
"Y/N, did you fucking hear me? Why the fuck are you looking at me like tha-".
As he put his hands on your hips, he froze and felt his heart stop and the touch of warm blood – spotting a huge stain that drenched your shirt. He looked down feeling tears form on his eyes at the sight of the bite.
"No..No…No." he tore your shirt and took a better look at the wound but all he saw was blood and teeth marks.
"No no, no this can’t be."He couldn't stop mumbling.
You felt your heart break at the sight of his body shaking, but you didn’t know what to do.
"M-Maybe you will not get infected, maybe you will heal. I-I'm sure we can do something to fix this." He quickly wiped away the tears from his eyes and he spoke with sore and broken voice.
"I-I'm okay Tae. It doesn't hurt.” You said with a trembling voice, taking his hands and he took you in his arms, knowing too well that all those words were only a lie. 
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Beating Some Sense Into You
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Pairings: Yoongi x Hufflepuff!Reader 
Summary: After five years of friendship and one year of being his girlfriend, Min Yoongi breaks up with you in the train on the way to Hogwarts. But something tells you he’s hiding something else. Or maybe it’s just you not wanting to face facts? 
Ratings: slow burn, slight angst, pining, lovers to enemies kind of
Featuring: Rogue Bludgers, Wise Maknae Jungkook, Taehyung’s vendetta against Jungkook, NamJiin playing Wizarding Chess in every scene they’re in, Hoseok as the bestest friend, and Jimin as the bestest friend ever but with alcohol
Word Count: 9.6k 
A/N: This was actually one of the first fanfic ideas I had but I never really knew how to progress the storyline until now. Even though Yoongi is my bias I kind of find it hard to write in his perspective because he’s pretty complicated. Anyway, hope you guys like this!
That damn Min Yoongi.
Considering the odds, it felt unlikely that you two would ever meet. He was a Slytherin in his second year while you were an incoming Hufflepuff. You spent most of your time swinging at Bludgers in the Quidditch field, he spent long hours playing the piano in the Room of Requirement. And Hogwarts was a big school, bigger than you ever imagined.
And yet, chance somehow brought you two together on your first day of class. You were wandering the hallways lost when a silver, swan Patronus swooped in and led you to your room. Min Yoongi tried to hide from you that day, but the sight of his dark, green robes and inky, black hair remained imprinted in your memory, saving it for the day when you would finally thank him.
That damn Min Yoongi. 
That damn Min Yoongi who somehow made his way from hallway greetings to Quidditch games, lunch meetings, and more. He was there when you needed help for your first midyear exams, during the first Christmas you stayed in Hogwarts, the first time you went to Hogsmeade, and all the birthdays, feast days, and mini-celebrations in-between. He was there when you lost the Quidditch championships and cried all night and when you learned that some of your closest friends betrayed you. In turn, you were there for him through his panic attacks, through his long nights of playing, and through the mental battles he waged with himself.
You were always there for him, and him for you. That damn Min Yoongi.
The one who somehow made you feel breathless and excited and complete throughout the day just by knowing you two would meet after classes in the courtyard. The one who didn’t hesitate to have a snowball fight in the morning even though it was a Saturday. The one who made you feel like scrolling through black-and-white stock photos of couples with love quotes calligraphed on them. The one who confessed that he would do almost anything for you because of how much he loved you. That damn Min Yoongi, who could make you forget your anger and the steal the words from your mouth with only a smirk.
The one who really, really, really, convinced you to believe in a ‘forever’ or ‘the one’ like how girls and guys do in sappy, trashy, novels.
And now, he’s saying that he doesn’t love you anymore.
You’re dumbfounded, still stuck in that haze of good vibes you got since you woke up this morning and knew that you were going to see Yoongi again on the train to Hogwarts. You get this instead. And you feel yourself shattering into tiny pieces but at the same time you know that with a smirk and a joking laugh, Yoongi can put you back together again.
But he doesn’t, and you remain broken. Because he has that kind of power now.
That damn Min Yoongi, breaking your heart.
Yoongi was wrong to think that he could fully bring himself to see you like this. Before, he loved the fact that he could melt your heart just by saying the right words, no matter how few, during the right moments. Now, he knows that this power he has of some sort is a double-edged sword, because it could break you as well.
And now, he’s watching the full extent of it.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” you said, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “I-If you just told me you’re joking, even if it is a bad joke, I’ll forgive you. Just please, please tell me you’re joking.” The sound of your voice makes Yoongi’s breath catch in his throat. He knows you’re about to cry and he knows he can erase all these negative feelings by doing what you’re begging him to do. But he can’t.
“This girl can’t possible be any good for you. And if you’re not going to do anything about this relationship, then I will.”
Yoongi should have known he couldn’t possibly keep his relationship with you a secret from his parents for so long. It wasn’t like lying to them about joining his friends to watch the Quidditch World Championships in Bulgaria. Yoongi would allow his parents to lock him up for a week or two or three for that for all he cared, but if they knew about you, it wouldn’t just be him getting punished. Especially since you were Muggle-born.
And that’s why he had to do this right now. Telling you about it would only make you interfere with things and get even more hurt.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” you repeated, shaking your head. Yoongi could tell just how excited you had been earlier to see him. He could even tell that you dressed up extra nicely and even put on a bit of make-up this morning. Of course, Yoongi loved how you looked no matter what, but seeing you go out of your way to dress yourself up made him feel even softer.
He wanted so badly to say that it was all a joke. Telling the truth would make things hurt less, for the both of you. Yoongi just didn’t trust himself to be able to protect you.
“It’s not a joke,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think I love you any more.” Yoongi feels his own hands shaking and clenches them into fists. It wouldn’t surprise him if you suddenly started screaming at him or yelling ‘I hate you’, even if it was against your nature to. That would make things easier, if you hated him. But of course, you do neither of those things.
“Is something wrong?” you ask instead. “I-I know that you never do anything without proper reason and it’s probably me who’s been doing something wrong so please tell me. P-please tell me if I’m doing anything wrong.” You reach out to take his hand but quick as a flash, Yoongi slaps it away.
The sound is deafening and Yoongi turns away to shield himself from the look of hurt and disbelief on your face. ‘Such a pathetic loser,’ his mind echoes. Yoongi swallows, once, before saying “I’ve said what I’ve said. You’re just making this harder than it already is.” He doesn’t even have to lie.
And with that, he walks out of the train compartment, leaving you all alone.
It feels as if his entire world collapses.
For the most part, you are kind of glad that Yoongi left you alone in the train compartment.
The last words he said sounded so cold that it made you tear up almost instantly. You couldn’t even stand to see his face right now, or anything else. It didn’t take long before you had your knees curled up to your chest while you sobbed into your arms. Even now, you would accept Yoongi if it was still a joke. Sure, you’d beat him to a pulp for doing such a bad joke, but you would still accept him. From the looks of it though, it didn’t seem like he was coming back.
‘What did I do wrong?’ you thought as you continued to cry, searching through your mind for any mistake that you might have done that would cause Yoongi to break up with you. But that only made you sadder. Even in those moments when you thought he would break up with you, like when you accidentally skipped out on a date because of Quidditch practice, Yoongi didn’t. And if he didn’t like something that you did, he would tell you straight away.
The sound of the train compartment door sliding open and Jimin’s voice startled you. You looked up with tears still running down your face to find Jimin and Hoseok standing in front of you.
“Hey, what happened? Is something wrong?” Hoseok asked, sliding into the seat next to you while Jimin took the one in front.
“Where’s Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin looked around. But one look at your face and a small shake of your head caused them to understand what had just happened.
“Was the fight that bad?” Hoseok asked, running a hand down your back soothingly. You felt your face scrunch up as you swallowed back a sob.
“H-he… broke up with me,” you hiccupped.
“N-no way…” Jimin breathed out in surprise. Even Hoseok had a look of disbelief on his face. “Hyung’s crazy about you. Did he say why?” You shook your head in response again.
“Oh Y/n…” Hoseok sighed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to let you cry on his chest. You accepted the invitation gladly. Besides Yoongi, your housemates Hoseok and Jimin were always there for you during troubled times.
“Why would hyung hurt you like this?” Jimin wondered out loud and gently stroked your hair.
“I don’t know if it’s something I did wrong,” you sniffed. “Maybe I screwed up.”
“Not even that would cause Yoong-hyung to break up with you,” Hoseok reasoned. “I know he loves you too much for that.”
“Do you think something happened to him?” Jimin asked. “I mean, this doesn’t sound like him.”
“I thought so too,” Hoseok agreed. You sniffed and wiped your eyes before facing your friends.
“Well, if he did, wouldn’t he tell me?” you asked. “He always told me about his problems. Maybe he lost his trust in me…”
“Stop thinking that it’s all your fault noona,” Jimin shook his head. You bit your lip and looked down.
“It still hurts,” you said softly, clutching at the sleeve of your shirt. You always thought that heartbreak wasn’t a real thing but now it felt as if you were running short of breath. “Like, really hurts.” You felt yourself replaying Yoongi’s words again in his head, therefore causing the sobs in your chest to come out again.
“I know…” Hoseok sighed and patted you on the back. “Just let it all out Y/n.”
“We’re here for you, you know?” Jimin added, sitting beside you on the seat and giving you one of his signature soft hugs. It did little to ease the pain you felt though. Because it was either that Yoongi broke up with you because of something you did, or because of something he didn’t trust you enough to tell you about.
“Do you want us to talk to him?” Jimin asked gently. Hoseok nodded in agreement. You looked up at the two of them and contemplated the suggestion for a minute. They weren’t just your best friends after all, they were also Yoongi’s. And you knew that they would do anything to help you two out.
But right now, you felt too drained to confront anything. Sighing, you shook your head.
“Thank you, really. Maybe sometime but not now,” you said. “I think it’s best if I don’t see him yet.”
“We understand,” Hoseok nodded, rubbing your shoulder.
“We could always ask Jungkook to beat him up,” Jimin suggested. “But like, lightly.” You looked at him and laughed slightly at the sudden appearance of Jimin’s sadistic side.
“Maybe save that for later.”
Yoongi was completely numb by the time he entered the compartment on the opposite side of the train car from yours. Inside, Namjoon and Seokjin were there playing Wizard Chess. Normally, Yoongi would have said or at least waved hello in greeting but now, he slumped down on his seat the instant he got in.
“What’s wrong?” Seokjin spoke up, looking up at Yoongi right before he moved his knight across the board.
“I didn’t even say anything,” Yoongi mumbled as he stared out the window, hoping that the distraction would somehow help him hide his turmoil of feelings inside.
“Exactly so,” Seokjin answered.
“And didn’t you plan to sit with Y/n on the way to Hogwarts?” Namjoon added. Yoongi felt himself wince at the sound of your name.
“Something happened, didn’t it?” Seokjin pressed. Yoongi turned to look at his two friends who already abandoned their chess game once they sensed something was wrong with him. He could hide his feelings from you, most of the time, but man was it difficult to hide from Namjoon and Seokjin. Especially considering he’s known Seokjin all his life.
“…I broke up with her,” he finally said.
“What the fuck?” Seokjin stated without hesitation.
“I second the motion,” Namjoon raised his hand.
“I… I don’t want to talk about it,” Yoongi sighed and shook his head. But as usual, his friends ignored him and pushed further.
“Did she like… cheat on you or something?” Namjoon asked.
“Idiot,” Seokjin elbowed him harshly. “Y/n would never do that.”
“Can’t you two just drop it?” Yoongi snapped impatiently. The look on Seokjin’s face darkened.
“Your family found out about it, didn’t they?”
Yoongi bit his lip, feeling himself relive the harsh conversation he had with his father when he discovered the song he had wrote for you. Who knew the old, pureblood man knew how to turn on a CD player? He looked up at Seokjin and finally gave up trying to hide from his childhood best friend.
“Yeah…” he finally nodded.
“Shit…” Namjoon said. “So, you broke up with Y/n to keep her safe from them?”
“Pretty much,” Yoongi sighed. “I couldn’t tell her the real reason. She might end up really getting hurt if she chooses to get into the situation too much.”
“But… you still told Y/n you were breaking up with her,” Seokjin said. “She must have felt terrible about it.”
“She did.” Yoongi closed his eyes and found himself thinking about how he left you crying in the train compartment. Hopefully one of your friends came by to comfort you. Especially now since he couldn’t.
“The two of you don’t deserve to go through all of this,” Namjoon shook his head. “I can’t believe people are still close-minded about Muggle-borns.”
“We’ll help you find a way around it,” Seokjin said. “I mean, we’re in our seventh year! Only one more year of sticking around your parents.”
“That’s true,” Yoongi smiled a bit, but only a bit. “I am really trying to find a way out of this. I… I don’t think Y/n is the kind of person I want to lose in my life.” It was a miracle, after all, that a friendship between the two of you grew. That made your relationship practically a double miracle.
Yoongi’s fingers drifted from his lap into his pocket where he still kept the tape he was planning to give to you. Even though he used a laptop and sound mixing software to produce music, in his attic of course, away from his parents’ prying ears, there was still a specific kind of charm in mixtapes. Especially if Yoongi was planning to give it to someone. He was a sap at heart after all. Composing and finally recording the song Yoongi wrote for you himself made him a double sap.
But instead, he broke your heart, making him an award-winning asshole instead.
“Y/n… Y/n!”
The sound of Professor Sprout repeating your name finally snapped you out of a haze. You looked down and found that you poured way too much squid ink into the soil of the potted Saturnian Heather you were taking care of. The petals of the blossoms, which were supposed to be a light lavender, had turned into a dark purple.
“S-sorry Professor,” you stammered, putting away the pitcher of squid ink. Beside you, Hoseok glanced at you with a concerned expression on his face.
“Dear child, are you alright?” Professor Sprout asked, looking at you worriedly. You counted yourself lucky that the class you spaced out in today was hers. Professor Sprout never got mad at you, or anyone for that matter. “You seem quite… under the weather.”
“Just lacking a bit of sleep, Professor,” you smiled in reassurance. But nowadays, it was getting harder and harder to smile. Professor Sprout gave a small smile of concern before turning around to address another student.
“Here, you can neutralize the squid ink with this,” Hoseok said, passing you a small pail of extra Dragon Dung.
“Thanks…” you mumbled, taking the pail from him and half-heartedly sprinkling some inside your Saturnian Heather flowerpot.
“Hey,” Hoseok nudged you gently. “Want to sit this class out?” he asked.
“Nah, there’s only twenty minutes left,” you shook your head. “And besides, I’ve skipped too many classes already…” you added. Ever since Yoongi broke up with you, practically three weeks ago, you were miles away from your usual self. Not only did you feel so lonely, even with Hoseok and Jimin around constantly taking care of you, but you were stuck in this haze of worry over Yoongi. But as much as you wanted to ask him, it felt like he was trying to avoid you. And seeing him do that hurt. A lot.
“You don’t have to go to Quidditch practice later if you’re not so up to it,” Hoseok added.
“No way!” you protested.
“As team captain I—”
“Hey, I may be heartbroken but I’m still the team’s number one Beater,” you cut him off. Hoseok raised an eyebrow in surprise before cracking a smile.
“Right you are,” he said, patting your head.
“And besides, maybe hitting a few Bludgers might cheer me up a bit,” you added, smiling to yourself at the thought. Quidditch always managed to cheer you up. In addition, the first match of the season was Hufflepuff against Slytherin. The match was also moved earlier in the year, meaning your team was going to face Slytherin in a few days. Despite the short length of time the Hufflepuff team had to prepare, you trusted Hoseok to have a few tricks up his sleeve.
Right after Herbology class, you headed straight for your Common Room to put on your Quidditch robes. You always had about four extra spares, especially considering how much Hoseok murders the team with practice. Three of them were still getting laundered but you dug an arm inside the chest at the foot of your bed to pull out your last spare from underneath.
“Got it!” you smiled in triumph once your fingers found the soft, silk-like fabric of your Quidditch robe. You gripped it tightly, yanking it out of your trunk, along with a few other things.
Namely, all the mixtapes Yoongi gave you.
The smile on your face stayed static before slowly disappearing once your eyes landed on the cases and cases of mixtapes, each one with a playlist title and tracklist on the cover written in Yoongi’s handwriting. Even though you teased Min Yoongi for six years for being an ‘old school sap’ because of all the mixtapes he gave you, there was no doubt that you treasured every single one of them.
You reached out a hand and picked one of them up. The word ‘Confession’ was written on the side of the case. Yoongi always resorted to music whenever he couldn’t find the words to say how he felt. It was about a year old, a year of you listening to it over and over again.
Five years of friendship, one year of being in a relationship. Was it really just going to end here?
You shook your head, not wanting to think about it unless you were prepared to end up crying by yourself again. Carefully, you tucked all the mixtapes back into your trunk, grabbed your Quidditch robes, bat, and broom before heading out of the door. Maybe swinging at some Bludgers would clear your mind.
It was an exaggeration to say that Min Yoongi missed you terribly. Late at night he found himself holed up in the Room of Requirement. Not necessarily to play the piano, he actually didn’t have the strength to ever since he broke up with you, but just because he wanted to be by himself more than ever. When the loneliness became unbearable, he’d go talk to Seokjin or Namjoon, the only ones who really knew what was going on with him, or Jungkook around the Common Room. Despite the fact that he was still pretty young, Yoongi had to admit that he had this uncanny ability of knowing when something was wrong with him.
Right now, he was sitting on his bed in the empty dormitory area. Yoongi still had a free cut since he wasn’t taking Herbology class any more in his last year. In his hand was a picture of the two of you from a few months ago. It was taken after Hufflepuff won the Championship match against Gryffindor. You were carrying the trophy with an exhausted but fulfilled smile on your face. Yoongi stood beside you with an arm wrapped around your shoulders and a proud, gummy smile on his face.
He missed you terribly.
“Hyung! It’s lunchtime!” Yoongi heard Jungkook call as he climbed up the stairwell leading to the dormitory.
“I’m not hungry…” Yoongi replied, tucking the photograph away under his pillow. Jungkook emerged from the doorway and sighed when he saw his hyung.
“You look terrible,” he said bluntly, walking over and sitting down on the bed. It was true. The lack of sleep formed dark circles under Yoongi’s eyes and he was pretty sure his face looked thinner than usual because he wasn’t eating well.
“Thanks for the compliment,” he rolled his eyes and flopped down on the bed.
“Still thinking about Y/n?” Jungkook asked, hovering over him. “I’ve been talking to Jimin. You know she’s just as wrecked about this as you are.”
Leave it to the maknae to be incredibly frank. If Yoongi didn’t feel so fucked up inside he would have laughed. “So, what are you implying?”
“For you two to talk it out?” Jungkook shrugged. “I’m Y/n-noona’s friend as much as I am yours’. I don’t like seeing either of you hurt…”
“It’s not that easy…” Yoongi sighed.
“I know,” Jungkook nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you know what is easy? Getting you to eat lunch at least.”
“I’m not hungry…” Yoongi muttered.
“Not an option,” Jungkook said. And with that, he hooked his hands under Yoongi’s arms and pulled him right off the bed.
“Hey! HEY! Let go of me!” Yoongi fought. But Jungkook’s muscles were way too strong.
“Time to eat lunch,” Jungkook sang as he continued to drag Yoongi out of the dormitory, only letting him go once he was sure that Yoongi was coming with him to the Great Hall.
“Ahh, you finally dragged him out,” Seokjin greeted once Jungkook dragged him over to the Slytherin table. Seokjin and Namjoon were already there eating and playing yet another Wizard Chess game.
“Hey,” Yoongi greeted and sat down beside Namjoon.
“Here, you need some protein,” his friend said, passing him a plate of grilled meat.
“I’ll have some,” Jungkook volunteered, clicking his chopsticks to get a piece before Seokjin pushed a plate of salad in front of him.
“You need less protein, you muscle rabbit,” Seokjin said. “Eat some vegetables this time.”
“Fine,” Jungkook pouted, doing as he was told. But judging by the way he eyed the plate of fried chicken next to him, he was still bound to get his share of protein.
Lunch with his friends did turn out quite okay, especially since Yoongi was able to finally get himself out of his room and eat a little. He could also tell his friends were working hard at cheering him up or distracting him somehow. Still, everything felt kind of different from when everyone was around eating together. Not only you, but Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung as well. But now, he could tell they were off taking caring of you instead. Yoongi found himself really missing his other friends.
After about twenty minutes, Yoongi decided to go back to his room and get ready for his next class. As much as he really didn’t feel like going, he knew that maybe it would distract him from thinking about other things. However, once he passed by the Quidditch field on the way, he couldn’t help but notice the Hufflepuff team in their bright yellow robes flying around the pit.
‘Right, they’ll be facing Slytherin soon,’ Yoongi remembered, leaning back against a wall to watch you guys. You were there too, swinging your bat at Bludgers like it was nobody’s business. Yoongi smiled as he watched you, you always were in your element whenever you played Quidditch.
Hoseok was busy drilling the Chasers at the other end of the court while the Beaters and the Seeker trained by themselves. You and your partner Beater seemed to be practicing by chasing after Bludgers and batting them at each other. But today, you seemed a bit… out of focus. The other Beater, Yoongi couldn’t remember if his name was Mike or Michel, managed to hit Bludgers that you were narrowly able to miss or bat back. Usually, you were the one doing that in practice. Now, you seemed to be distracted as you stared blankly ahead during some points.
“Y/n…” Yoongi found himself calling out loud when Mike/Michel hit the Bludger a bit to close to your head. You raised your bat a bit to block, but just barely. You didn’t seem notice, however, that Mike/Michel hit another Bludger right after, aimed at your broom. “Y/n!” he yelled even louder, running out on the Quidditch field to warn you. Yoongi saw you turn to him right as the Bludger hit the back side of your broom. Sending you spinning.
By now, everyone else in the Quidditch team came to watch. Yoongi watched in fear as you gripped your broom tightly while spiraling in the air. Finally, you managed to stop spiraling by leaning your body against one side long enough. Yoongi’s fear completely dissipated by the time he saw you and your fellow Beater fly down slowly to the ground.
“A-are you okay?” Mike asked once your feet hit the ground. “I-I should have been more careful. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” you smiled reassuringly despite the fact that your brain still fell a bit scrambled.
“Hey!” you suddenly turned around at the sound of Yoongi’s voice and saw him stalking over to you. There was an murderous expression on his face and before you knew it, he was yelling at Mike.
“You idiot! What are you trying to do, murder your teammate?!”
“N-no of course not,” Mike stammered.
“Yoongi, get off him. He said he’s sorry,” you scowled pushing Yoongi away.
“You clearly saw that she had just blocked one Bludger and yet you batted another one at her!” Yoongi continued.
“It’s p-part of practice,” Mike defended himself. “That’s how we always practice for a game.”
“You could have hurt m girlfriend!” Yoongi yelled, eyes widening once he realized what he just said. You felt your mouth hang open slightly. Yoongi turned to you, blinking in surprise at himself. “I… I meant…”
“Your ex-girlfriend?” you said coldly. You never heard your own voice sound like that. But all the sadness you had built up from before was replaced with rage. “That’s what you meant, right?”
“Y/n… I… I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean to what?!” you snapped. Yoongi looked down, at least he had the decency to look sorry. By now, everyone in your team was approaching you and Yoongi, no doubt to watch the spectacle. You knew Hoseok and Jimin would be the ones to reach you first before everything blew up. But right now, you could care less.
“You know why Mike didn’t do anything wrong?” you hissed. “It’s because he trusts me. He trusts that I can dodge or bat a Bludger and that I won’t fall. Something you seem to have trouble doing.”
“Yoongi,” Hoseok said, appearing beside you. You couldn’t read the expression on his face or what he was thinking. But taking a wild guess, you figured Hoseok was hurt having to talk to his best friend like this. “I think it’s best if you go.”
“Hoseok…” Yoongi bit his lip.
“Why can’t you just trust me?!” you yelled at him. “Why can’t you just trust us? Tell us what’s wrong.”
Yoongi opened his mouth, paused, before closing it again. His fingers fidgeted, his nervous habit, but he didn’t say anything. Appalled, you shook your head and stepped back.
“Unless you really don’t love me…” you said softly.
“Hyung…” you heard Jimin speak up beside you. You looked up and saw tears forming in his eyes. This must be hurting him as much as it hurt you. Beside you, Hoseok stood stiffly. It was so strange that your best friend, who always found something to say, was at a loss for words. You could barely handle the feeling of Yoongi breaking up with you, but it was so hard to watch your friendships falling apart too.
“Fine… don’t talk,” you shook your head, turned around, and walked away.
“Hey Y/n, watch yourself,” Hoseok reminded you. Your last Quidditch practice before your match with Slytherin tomorrow had ended hours ago but you, Hoseok, and Jimin were still in the field. You were the one who elected to stay for a while and practice your swing, even though you didn’t exactly need it. Hoseok and Jimin decided to practice by throwing the Quaffle around but part of you knew that they were just around to make sure you didn’t overexert yourself. Right now, you were quite near your breaking point.
“Yeah…” you panted, dropping your bat on the ground and stretching your tired muscles. “Let’s head back already.”
“Good call,” Jimin grinned. The corner of your lip tugged up in a small smile as you picked up your bat and followed your friends out of the field.
“Hey, when we win tomorrow, you should treat all of us to barbecue for dinner,” Jimin suggested, elbowing Hoseok.
“Why am I the one treating?” Hoseok frowned.
“You’re the team captain, of course you’re treating,” you stated.
“Exactly,” Jimin winked at you.
“Treating all of you would finish of three months of my allowance,” Hoseok protested.
“Ooh I have an idea! Why don’t you dance for the owner of the barbecue restaurant. I’m sure the manager has a soft spot for you,” Jimin suggested.
“But by then I bet I’ll be so tired so all I’ll do is this,” Hoseok stopped walking and waved his arms sideways like an octopus.
“Isn’t that just an imitation of Seokjin-hyung?” you snorted and the three of you laughed. Ever since the incident at the Quidditch field, the three of you found yourselves simultaneously ignoring the elephant in the room. Even though you were laughing, it was undeniable that there was still this empty feeling inside.
“I’ll go ahead to dinner,” Hoseok spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just need to get some notes from Namjoon and all.”
“Right,” you nodded, knowing full well that Yoongi may or may not be with Namjoon at this time.
“See you later,” Jimin waved as Hoseok left the two of you alone.
“So, the match really is tomorrow, huh?” you said, trying hard not to let the silence fall between you two.
“We deserve a break,” Jimin sighed.
“Yeah, I feel like my arms are going to fall off,” you groaned, rubbing the muscles on your shoulder.
“Not just that kind of break,” Jimin looked up at you. “A break from all this… emotional stuff too.”
He meant Yoongi. But right now, it seemed as if just mentioning his name was taboo. And now that Jimin mentioned it, you realized that maybe you do need this emotional break.
“What do you suggest we do?” you asked. Jimin gave you one of his smiles that bordered on shy and sly.
“Want to get wasted?”
“Hey, eat something,” Jungkook said, tossing a wrapped sandwich at Yoongi who was lying down on his bed.
“Not hungry,” Yoongi mumbled, brushing the sandwich off his chest to lie down on his side. He felt one side of the mattress give way as Jungkook sat down.
“Jimin told me what happened.”
“Everyone knows what happened.” The entire Hufflepuff team was there after all.
“It’s still not too late to fix tings,” Jungkook spoke up. Yoongi turned to him.
“How is it not ‘too late?’” Yoongi snapped. “I broke up with Y/n. I hurt her because she thinks I don’t trust her and that I don’t love her either. And now, even Hoseok and Jimin are pulled into this mess!” Jungkook blinked at him in response and looked down.
“Sorry…” Yoongi reached out to touch his shoulder. “You don’t deserve to be yelled at.”
“I understand, hyung,” Jungkook smiled slightly. “What is the truth behind all of this? I know Seokjin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung know but, you never told me.”
Yoongi sucked in a breath. ‘I guess it is okay to tell Jungkook,’ he thought.
“My father found out about our relationship,” he sighed. “And he threatened to harm her and her family once he finds out who she is and with all the power that he is, it’s all going to be too easy for him. I need to protect Y/n and this is the only way I know how.”
“Can’t you run away?” Jungkook asked. “I know you never cared about him.”
“I did think about casting that Obliviate charm but, where would I go?” Yoongi shrugged. “I still don’t quite know what to do with my life.”
“Well, erasing your father’s memory seems like a good place to start,” Jungkook pointed out.
“Yeah,” Yoongi laughed bitterly.
“I still mean it though,” Jungkook said softly. “I don’t think it’s too late for you two. Far from it actually.”
“How so?” Yoongi asked, sitting up on the bed. Jungkook sat down next to him and curled up his knees.
“You fell for her years ago, didn’t you?” Jungkook smirked at him. “Even I could tell and I was eleven years old at that time. And you waited for how long to tell her?”
“About five years,” Yoongi found himself smiling wistfully.
“Five years!” Jungkook exclaimed. “And Y/n knows that. That’s not something you forget easily. If you told her about everything, the issue with your father and everything, I’m sure she’ll understand. Maybe she’ll punch you for not telling you sooner, but she’ll understand.”
“But if she stays close to me, my father will find a way to hurt her,” Yoongi bit his lip.
“Y/n’s strong,” Jungkook insisted. “Even more so when she knows she has you watching her back. And if you think you friends are going to leave you guys to fend for yourself I’ll be really disappointed in you, hyung.” Yoongi chuckled.
“You know, you really are smart,” he said, ruffling Jungkook’s hair.
“Always have, always will be,” Jungkook smirked.
“Whoa, how did you get that in?” Your mouth hung open in surprise when you saw Jimin pull out a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey from his backpack.
“I caught our previous Hufflepuff prefect with it,” he grinned. “He’s not an alcoholic but he does like having a drink or two sometimes to de-stress. I didn’t tell on him so he left this with me once he graduated.”
“Damn Jimin,” you shook your head at him in awe.
“I guess we kind of need this now,” Jimin sighed, leaning back. The two of you had climbed your way to the roof from the observatory room, far from everyone else. You hugged your knees and watched as Jimin uncorked the bottle and passed it to you.
“To an non-stressful night,” he said.
“To a non-stressful night,” you repeated, taking a drink. They didn’t call the drink Firewhiskey for no reason. The liquor burned through your mouth and down your throat. It tasted bitter at first, but with a semi-sweet aftertaste, like burnt honey. It made you feel warmer on the inside despite the cool, wind on the rooftop.
“That hits the spot,” you sighed and passed the bottle to Jimin.
“You said it,” he grinned and drank as well. “We shouldn’t drink too much though, there’s still the game tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “You really think Hoseok will treat us to barbecue?”
“Not if he knows we’re drinking,” Jimin giggled. You laughed and took the bottle from him to take another drink.
“Remember when everyone else surprised us with a party?”
“You mean Taehyung’s so-called Post-Quidditch ‘Yacht Party’ but the ‘yacht’ was actually a giant red crocs shoe floating on the lake?” Jimin laughed.
“That one!” you grinned. “Geez, it’s hard to believe that was a year ago.”
“We threw Seokjin-hyung in the lake then.”
“And got into detention.”
“But busted out anyway,” Jimin completed. He sighed and drank some more Firewhiskey. “Those were good times.”
“Yoongi confessed to me that night,” you said quietly. “Right here on the rooftop.”
“You’re really going to talk about your ex here?” Jimin raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we supposed to de-stress?”
“He still doesn’t feel like my ex,” you said, hugging your knees close to your chest. You closed your eyes for just a second, but in that second, you felt yourself being transported back to that night. It was as cold as it was now on the rooftop and the warmth you felt then wasn’t from alcohol but from having Yoongi sitting close next to you, shoulders pressed against shoulders. It didn’t take much for you to remember the first feeling of his lips on yours, or the slight crack in his voice when he said ‘I love you.’
Before you knew it, tears started falling from your eyes.
“Let it all out, Y/n,” Jimin sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder while you buried your face in the long sleeves of your sweater. “We still have some time in our schedule tonight for some crying.”
“Pass me the Firewhiskey again?” you sniffed and reached your hand out. Jimin nodded and passed you to the bottle after taking a drink himself. The burn in your mouth and throat didn’t hurt so much and the Firewhiskey tasted a bit sweeter this time. But not even that was going to make you forget about Min Yoongi.
Yoongi didn’t quite plan for him to end up on the rooftop on a Thursday night, but here he was. Or, almost, that is.
After talking to Jungkook, and being force-fed a sandwich, Yoongi found himself wandering through the Hogwarts hallways, not quite planning where he was headed. And before he knew it, he was walking up the stairs leading to the Astronomy tower and the rooftop that held so many memories. ‘The universe really loves torturing me, doesn’t it?’ he thought leaning against the window frame when he heard two all-too familiar voices on the rooftop below.
“Noona! That’s enough! You’ve had way too much to drink.”
“Come oooon Jimiin. I only drank a bit.”
“Clearly that’s way too much. Geez, who knew you were such a lightweight?”
“You’re a lightweight!”
‘Jimin and Y/n?’ Yoongi frowned. He leaned down farther over the balcony where he was at and spotted Y/n and Jimin sitting on the rooftop just below. Jimin appeared to be holding a bottle up in the air while you were swatting at the air to reach it. Judging by the slight slur of your voice and your shaky balance, you were drunk.
‘What’s Jimin doing getting her drunk?’ Yoongi frowned. Of course, he knew Jimin would never make a move on Y/n. But proposing a drinking night was just plain stupid.
“You were just drinking and crying about Yoongi-hyung a minute ago,” Jimin groaned, holding you away at arm’s length once you tried to make a grab again for the bottle. “What the hell happened?”
‘She was crying about me?’ Yoongi blinked in surprise.
“Min Yoongi!” you practically screeched. “I hate you Min Yoongi!” Yoongi practically felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at how hostile you sounded.
“I know I know I know!!” Jimin hurriedly covered your mouth. “Now shut up or someone’s going to hear us.” You pulled away from Jimin and sat down again.
“I didn’t mean that.” Yoongi could practically hear your voice shaking as you spoke. “I still love him.”
He felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as soon as he heard those words. Even after all of the hurt he caused you, you still loved him. ‘Could I still make things right?’ Yoongi thought, feeling his hands grip the railing of the balcony tightly.
“Come on Y/n. Let’s get back to the room,” Jimin sighed, tucking away the bottle he was holding earlier and holding out a hand to help you stand up. “It’s late so there shouldn’t be that many people around.”
“Fiiine,” you stood up shakily before completely passing out.
“Aish, you’re so much trouble,” Jimin groaned, lifting you up in his arms. Yoongi leaned down farther over the railing of the balcony until he was right on top of you two.
“Need some help?”
Jimin almost dropped you in surprise at the sound of Yoongi’s voice. “H-hyung?” he squeaked.
”Up here,” Yoongi said. Jimin looked up and Yoongi waved in greeting before jumping over the railing and landing right next to the two of them. It took about five years for him to fully master that.
“How long were you there?” Jimin gazed at him in surprise.
“Long enough,” Yoongi shrugged. He held out his hands, gesturing to take Y/n from him. Jimin hesitated for a bit before handing her over. Y/n was completely passed out with her mouth partially hanging open. She was warm too and Yoongi felt himself smiling slightly at the feeling of his arms around you again.
“Let’s head back to the Common Room,” Jimin said simply, walking ahead to pass through a nearby window. Thankfully, there were less students roaming around the castle at this time. And those who passed by didn’t seem to notice anything suspicious. After a few minutes, Yoongi and Jimin were standing in front of the Hufflepuff Common Room.
“I didn’t mean to get her drunk, by the way,” Jimin finally spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck. “She got drunk after a few sips. Sorry about that, I should have watched over her more carefully.”
“I know,” Yoongi nodded. “You’ve been there for her more than I have these past few weeks, so it’s alright.”
“You know, she’s really hurting over you,” Jimin said, raising his voice this time. He never did this, unless he was really upset. ‘He must be bothered by this too,’ Yoongi thought.
“I know that too,” Yoongi said, looking down at your sleeping peaceful face. “But I know I have to explain things to her, and I will. I’m sure that that’s what I have to do now.”
“You better explain things to me too, and Hoseok,” Jimin added. “We’re all worried about you two.”
“I’m sorry about all of this,” Yoongi bit his lip. Suddenly, he felt you stir as you yawned and woke up.
“Shit…” Jimin cursed under his breath as you craned your neck to look up at the person carrying you. Yoongi felt himself tense slightly, remembering how hostile you sounded when you yelled ‘I hate you Min Yoongi!’ earlier.
“H-hi..?” he stammered.
“Jimin… what happened to your muscles?” you frowned, poking at Yoongi’s arm. Jimin and Yoongi exchanged glances and the younger Hufflepuff burst out laughing.
“I think that’s the universe’s way of saying you should work out, hyung,” Jimin teased.
“Shut up,” Yoongi flushed.
“Wait a second… this is Taehyung!” you gasped in surprise. Judging by your half-lidded eyes and very flushed cheeks, you were still very much drunk. Suddenly, the look of surprise on your face was replaced with rage. You clenched your fist and punched Yoongi right on the shoulder.
“Ow… Fuck!” Yoongi cursed. You pushed yourself away from him and dropped down on the floor in a clumsy fighter’s stance.
“You still owe me twenty Galleons!” you yelled. Then, your eyes closed as you passed out again. Yoongi used his uninjured arm to catch you before you fell.
“Geez, why does it hurt so fucking much?” he hissed as he rubbed his injured shoulder.
“She’s our best Beater, what did you expect?” Jimin said as he picked up Y/n again.
“Make sure she doesn’t punch anyone else, okay?”
“Make sure you explain yourself to her too,” Jimin added. “See you tomorrow, hyung.”
“See you,” Yoongi nodded. He might have just been hearing things or something, but you mumbled something along the lines of ‘See you, Yoongi’ before Jimin entered the Hufflepuff Common Room.
“God, I’m never going to drink Firewhiskey again,” you groaned, rubbing a hand across your forehead in an attempt massage the headache away.
“Shut up, Hoseok-hyung’s going to hear you,” Jimin nudged you. The Hufflepuff team was assembled at the bottom of the Quidditch field, ready to take off as soon as the game started. “Here,” Jimin passed you an aspirin. You took it gratefully, popping it into your mouth, and breathed out a sigh of relief as your headache slowly cleared away. You couldn’t afford to be distracted by anything else now a few minutes before the game started.
“Hey, what do you remember from last night?” Jimin asked. You frowned.
“I remember saying a bunch of stuff while I was drunk on the rooftop and then passing out,” you explained. The rest of the night was all fuzzy.
“Anything else you remember?” Jimin raised an eyebrow.
“Why? Don’t tell me I did something crazy,” you said worriedly.
“No, not really,” Jimin shook his head. “But man, you really are a lightweight.”
“Shut up, Park Jimin.”
“Alright, time for the first Quidditch match of the year,” the sound of the Quidditch announcer, Kim Taehyung’s voice boomed through the stadium. “Hufflepuff against Slytherin!” The crowd cheered. You, the rest of your team, and Slytherin mounted your brooms and kicked off in the air. The Hufflepuff team flew by where the rest of your housemates were seated, causing more cheers from the Hufflepuffs, before finally stopping at your end of the court.
“Both teams seem to be in great condition,” Taehyung continued commentating. “Will Slytherin win the game early with our Golden Seeker Jeon Jungkook catching the Snitch? Or will Captain Hoseok’s leadership and strategy win enough points for Hufflepuff? Since Jungkook wouldn’t share his chocolate milk with me this morning, I’ll be rooting for Hufflepuff.”
“Kim Taehyung!” Headmistress McGonagall’s scolded him. You sighed and shook your head at the younger boy’s antics.
“Sorry Headmistress,” Taehyung apologized. “I mean both teams are evenly matched, may the best team win. I still hate you Jungkook.”
“Kim Taehyung!”
“Sorry Headmistress.”
The game begins when Madame Hooch tosses the Quaffle in the air and blows on her whistle. You immediately dart off, chasing after a Bludger to your left. You don’t even have to turn around to know that Jimin has caught the Quaffle first.
“Aaaaand we’re off!” Taehyung cheers. “Hufflepuff Chaser Park Jimin is immediately in hold of the Quaffle and headed straight for the goalposts. He may be single ladies but I bet my entire collection of feathers that he only has eyes for Jungkook.”
“Kim Taehyung!” This time, it’s Seokjin-hyung yelling at him. You chuckle as you grip your bat, flying closer and closer to a Bludger. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot one of the Slytherin Chasers flying after Jimin. You speed your broom up to outpace the Bludger before swinging your bat and hitting the Bludger directly at the Chaser. The sound is glorious, and you feel a rush of adrenaline once the Bludger connects with its target.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot Min Yoongi sitting in the stands. It feels as if time slows down and you can feel his eyes on you and you only. You expect to feel a stab of hatred while looking at him but you don’t. He smiles and waves a little before Taehyung’s voice catapults you back into the game.
“Whoa! Tell me you guys saw that! Tell me you saw that awesome hit from our Hufflepuff Beater, Y/n L/n!” The crowd cheers and you feel yourself smile a bit before chasing after another Bludger. “Man, her biceps sure look scary,” Taehyung adds.
Jimin and your other Chasers managed to get more shots in while you and Mike do as much as you can to throw off the Slytherin Chasers, and prevent Jungkook from catching the Snitch too early in the game. Of course, Jungkook’s dodging skills are as formidable as ever.
“And another awesome bat by Y/n!” Taehyung cheers once you hit a Bludger at one of the Slytherin Chasers who was headed right for your goalposts with the Quaffle. They drop the ball only to be caught right after by Jimin again.
“Good work!” Hoseok yells at you. You grin and flash a thumbs-up before eyeing another Bludger. You chase it down on your broom when you notice something strange in its movements. Usually, Bludgers moved erratically in the air, darting to the sides as well as forwards and backwards. This one, however, seemed to have a fairly straight pattern. And… a target.
‘It’s enchanted!’ you thought frantically, tucking your Beater bat under arm and gripping tightly on the broom handle with two hands as you sped up. The Bludger dipped down, heading straight at the crowd of people sitting on the bleachers. Combined with the force of gravity, it was gaining speed even faster.
“Look out!” you screamed at the crowd below you. Your bat fell off to the side as you continued your high-speed chase. As you closed in on the Bludger even further, you finally managed to pinpoint its target.
That damn Min Yoongi.
“NO!” you yelled. Hearing the noise, Min Yoongi looked up just in time to see the Bludger heading straight for him. You urged your broom even closer before jumping off it, wrapping your arms around the Bludger and trying to change its pathway at least a foot to the side before plummeting down onto one of the seats.
Your vision went dark, but in the distance, you could hear Yoongi yelling your name.
“She’s going to be fine,” Madame Pomfrey reassured Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin, for what seemed like the umpteenth time. “No broken bones or anything, thank God. The blow on her head was pretty serious but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Will she wake up soon?” Yoongi asked.
“She should,” Madame Pomfrey nodded. “Or she may remain unconscious until tomorrow.”
“Can we see her?” Hoseok asked. Jimin and Yoongi nodded in unison. Madame Pomfrey looked over all of them before sighing and giving in.
“Alright, but only you three.”
“We’ll be quiet,” Jimin reassured her. Yoongi practically ran to the hospital bed where he saw you lying down. There were a few bruises on the sides of your arms from where you hit the bench while clutching the Bludger and there was a bandage wrapped around your head as well. But other than that, you still looked okay. That didn’t stop Yoongi from gripping the bedside railings tightly with rage when he thought about the person who must have enchanted the Bludger.
“Does anyone know who he is?” he asked out loud. “The one who controlled that Bludger?”
“Taehyung and Jungkook are still looking into it,” Hoseok answered, gripping his shoulder.
“It must have been on the Slytherin team,” Yoongi gritted his teeth. “I’ll hex all of them myself if I have to.”
“It’s better if you’re here for Y/n,” Jimin spoke up. “Madame Pomfrey said she could be waking up soon.”
“You’re right,” Yoongi nodded, sucking in a breath to calm himself down a bit. Suddenly, he saw you stir in your sleep before blinking your eyes open.
“Y/n!” Jimin exclaimed, rushing over to your side. You groaned and reached for the bandage on your head.
“What happened? Did we win?” you asked, blinking at the three of them.
“Geez, worry about yourself for once,” Hoseok chuckled. “But the match was canceled. Someone tampered with the Bludger and they’re still finding out who did it.”
“They were targeting Yoongi and—” you paused once your eyes landed on him. Yoongi felt himself swallow as he took a step closer to you.
“Y/n, I—”
“Are you hurt?” you asked, cutting him off completely. Yoongi felt tears well up behind his eyes at hearing your concern for him.
“Like Hoseok said, worry about yourself for once,” he choked out.
“We’ll leave you two alone,” Hoseok said. Jimin nodded and the two of them left the clinic. Yoongi grabbed a nearby stool and dragged it to close to you before sitting down.
“M-madame Pomfrey said your head was injured the most when you fell,” he stammered, still unsure of what to actually say to you. “But she fixed it up quickly. No broken bones or anything.” You studied him for a good while before leaning your head back against the pillow.
“I guess I still care about you more than I should…” you said softly.
“And I should have trusted you more than I did,” Yoongi added, glancing up at you. “I know it isn’t my place to ask, after everything I’ve done to you, but will you give me another chance?”
You bit your lip, contemplating what Yoongi just said. And right when he thought you were going to say no, you gave a simple nod of your head. He breathed out a sigh of relief and continued.
“My father found out about us,” Yoongi finally said. “Of course, he was furious, because of your House and bloodline, and he threatened to hurt you and your family if I didn’t stop seeing you. And with all the power and influence he has, I don’t doubt doing that was going to be difficult for him. He’s even fucking friends with the parents of other Slytherins. So, I had to protect you.”
“By breaking up with me…” you finished.
“It was hard,” Yoongi confessed. “I lost sleep over it. But seeing you hurt because of all this, that was the hardest thing I’ve had to face. I thought that concealing this from you would keep you safe but it ended up hurting you instead. And you’re right, it was wrong for me not to trust you.”
“How did your father find out about us?” you asked.
“That was mostly my fault,” Yoongi said somewhat sheepishly. “But he found this.” He pulled out a mixtape and handed it over to you.
“’One Year,’” you read the title out loud.
“It was supposed to be for our anniversary,” Yoongi swallowed. “The first track was this recorded message for you and my father must have found a way to play it while it was still in the tape recorder and—” Suddenly, you sat up and wrapped your arms around him.
“God, you are such a sap,” you chuckled.
“Y-you’re not mad?” Yoongi stammered, finding that he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands before finally wrapping them around your waist. ‘Yeah, this feels right,’ he thought, pulling you even closer to him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m still really mad at you,” you shook your head but clutched him even tighter. “I can’t believe it took you this long to say it.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” Yoongi mumbled. “I’m sorry it all had to come down to this.”
“Young man you have a lot to make up for,” you pulled away from him and grinned cheekily. For the first time in weeks, Yoongi felt butterflies in stomach rather than bowling balls. “You can start with wearing Taehyung’s bling-bling crocs.”
“God, not the bling-bling crocs,” Yoongi groaned as he imagined the red crocs and chains monstrosity that Taehyung created last year. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at you.
“You’ll have to wear it for a month,” you added. “No exceptions.”
“Fine,” Yoongi sighed. You grinned again before frowning slightly in worry.
“What about your father?” you asked.
“We’ll figure something out,” Yoongi took your hand in his. “I know we will.”
Suddenly, the two of you were interrupted when Jungkook and Taehyung, came running into the clinic.
“Yoongi-hyung!” Jungkook yelled, slowing down to a stop right in front of Y/n’s bed. “You can stay in my house during Christmas break!”
“Um…” you gazed at the two of them. “Is there something I should know about?”
“If you don’t have a place to go to,” Taehyung added. “You can stay in my house too during the summer. Grandma welcomes pretty much anyone to stay.”
“You’re… volunteering your houses for me to stay in?” Yoongi said slowly. Taehyung and Jungkook nodded.
“Aw, he’s going to cry now,” you smiled and patted Yoongi on the back.
“Sh-shut up,” Yoongi stammered, trying very hard not to cry at his maknae’s gestures. “But thank you guys, really.”
“Don’t forget the rest of your friends too,” Taehyung added. “I think Namjoon volunteered to share his closet with you. So did Jimin, mostly because you’re the same size.”
“We’ve all got your back, Min Yoongi,” you held his hand and grinned up at him.
“I know you do,” Yoongi nodded, squeezing your hand.
“Also, if you break up with me again, you’re dead you damn Min Yoongi.” Yoongi laughed and kissed you on the forehead. He didn’t care if Taehyung and Jungkook were watching. They could video the thing for all he cared.
“Who says I will?”
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smaubts · a year ago
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thinking of you
part twelve. jealous min | next
a.n. boongi is jealous 🤧
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