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#yoongi fanfiction
borathae · a month ago
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“Yoongi was a warrior in the Queen’s army, brave and loyal to his duties even if that meant protecting Her daughter, who can’t stand his presence in the slightest and who more often than not uses him as her way of taking out her anger. As one fateful night forces them to survive together, they soon need to learn how to live with each other.”
Pairing: Warrior!Yoongi x Princess!Reader 
Genre: Fantasy, e2l!AU, Smut
Warnings: LOTS of plot & worldbuilding, violence & fighting, wounds, deep hatred in the beginning, she is mean in the beginning but character development happens dw, slurs, cuddling for warmth *wink wink*, loss of virginity, they are both virgins fyi, kissing, missionary in a cave, Yoongi likes kissing her boobies and neck, Yoongi’s hands, also blonde Daechwita!Yoongi because he deserves his own warning
Wordcount: 21.7k
a/n: I always start one of these stories, thinking that I can’t love it more than the other ones, and I always end up proving myself wrong. Writing this story gave me so much JOY omfg please I would literally give my life for warrior!Yoongi. Also I know, I know :( it is once again so freaking long, but please :( give it a chance, I promise you that you will get lots of plot and Yoongi for your patience :(
~ Go to Index ~
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Yoongi heard the whispers and felt the eyes on him. They all knew where he was going and what was going to happen.
The princess had a fight with her husband.
The news spread like a wildfire this morning, reaching Yoongi by the evening. He had just returned from the Queen’s hunt when one of her servants told him to see her in her chambers immediately.
She was furious so they said before wishing him strength.
Yoongi felt nothing as he made his way to the princess’ chambers. He walked this walk a hundred times before. What was to come doesn’t faze him anymore. It was the whispers and stares, which never became easier to bear, no matter how often he climbed the stairs to her chambers.
Yoongi knocks twice. He doesn’t expect an answer and so he enters.
“You sent for me Your Highness”, he announces himself, falling to his knees in an instance. He places his sword before his knees, keeping his head lowered.
“Where were you?” she spits.
“I was out hunting with your mother.”
Slap.
Yoongi stays quiet despite the ache on his cheek.
“You kept me waiting, how dare you?”
“Your Highness, the Queen, she needed my company.”
Slap.
“Who do you think you are? How dare you talk back to me.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness.”
She grabs a bundle of his hair and tugs his head back.
Yoongi doesn’t react at the feeling. He tries not to look into her eyes, but fails. She looks furious tonight. The fight with her husband must have angered her deeply.
Yoongi doesn’t like her husband. Not only was he a simple fool, but he angered her on top of that. And when she was angry she sent for Yoongi to bear the punishments her husband should bear in his stead.
“Look at you, you’re so ugly”, she spits, twisting his hair, “do people tell you that? Do they tell you that you’re ugly?” she asks, running her finger down the scar on his face.
Yoongi closes his eyes, shuddering in disgust as her finger runs over his eyelid.
“Yes Your Highness, they do.”
“Good”, she places her hand all over his face and pushes his head back roughly, “and I hope they never stop.”
Yoongi never got the answers of why she was hurting him instead of her useless husband.
Some servants say it was because of the prince’s powerful mother and that the Queen therefore forbade her daughter to hurt her husband.
Others say it was because the husband was an emotional fool, who cries the moment the princess raises her voice at him and that the princess grew annoyed by the constant wailing.
Yoongi believes that it was simply because he was at the wrong place and the wrong time.
It was two winters ago when the princess married the prince of the Sand Queendom. She disliked him from the beginning for the way he looked and behaved. He angered her one night and in a fit of rage she struck him. Yoongi made the mistake of helping him to his feet again and it was Yoongi, who received the next strike. Ever since that day she always calls for Yoongi when her husband angered her and he has to bear the kind of punishment a husband should take by himself.
“You know, I told him to stay home and yet he still wandered the mountains with his friends”, she spits as she connects her hand with his face, “why is he always defying me?”
“I don’t –“
 “Shut up, I’m not talking to you!”
Yoongi closes his mouth and accepts the next slap.
“He cried again today, he is such a pathetic man. Why did mother choose such a terrible husband for me?”
Yoongi allows her to shake his head roughly.
“Stop looking like that. Why are you so ugly?”
“Please forgive me, Your Highness. I’m tired.”
“Fuck”, she grasps his cheeks tightly, “you’re even uglier when you’re tired.”
She leans down and smells him.
“Disgusting, you stink.”
“Forgive me, I was on horseback the entire day.”
She pushes him, making him fall on his elbows.
“Leave, your scent insults me, it’s no fun tonight.”
“Yes Your Highness, please forgive me”, Yoongi says, grabbing his sword to leave her room on his knees.
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The Queen was on a hunt again. Yoongi rides beside her, scouting the area for dangers. The princess joined their hunting group today. She left her husband at home, but took her horrible friends with her. They were giggling the entire time. Yoongi felt his head ache at the sound of it.
“I heard that some of Morrok’s people were sighted in the north forests three moons ago”, the Queen tells Yoongi.
“Yes my Queen, my people took care of them”, Yoongi answers her.
“I never doubted that Sire, but it makes me wonder what they were doing so far up north.”
“Perhaps they were on their way further north, I heard of a man creating an army of men, who share his mindset. They call themselves the Ravens.”
“Yes, I heard that as well. It seems that these days more and more men become victims of madmen.”
“Yes my Queen, so it seems”, Yoongi agrees.
“Mother!” the princess rides up to her mother’s side, “mother we are bored, when can we kill something?”
“Patience and if you keep chattering like that you won’t catch anything today.”
“But mother, Luthia saw a deer back there. Please allow us to check it out.”
“Very well, but take Yoongi with you.”
The princess looks at him and scrunches her nose up in disgust. Yoongi feels the same. He doesn’t want to spend time with the princess.
“Do I really have to?”
“Yes ___ you do.”
She clicks her tongue, “fine. Come Yoongi.”
“Yes, Your Highness”, Yoongi obeys and turns his horse.
The princess gallops off afterwards.
“Sire”, the Queen stops him.
“Yes my Queen?”
“Please keep her out of trouble.”
“Yes my Queen, I will”, he promises before galloping down the forest path.
He catches up with the princess and her friends soon enough. They were giggling again, but that stopped when they noticed Yoongi’s presence. He can feel every single one of their deathly glares on his face as he rides to the front to join the princess’ side.
“___ what is that fool doing here?” Luthia asks, eyeing Yoongi with disgust.
“My mother insists I take him”, you answer her and roll your eyes, “she still doesn’t believe that I can fend for myself.”
It makes Yoongi scoff quietly, just quietly enough that you wouldn’t hear it. 
“And she has to send him out of all your warriors?”
You look at Yoongi by your side, studying his face. He is frowning, scouting the area as he was told to do.
“I’m not happy about it either, but let’s pretend that he isn’t here. Tell us Luthia where did you see the deer?”
“I watched it run down this path.”
“That leads to the ruins of Bruinnen”, Yoongi murmurs.
“So? Do you want to tell us something?” Luthia spits.
“There are spirits in those lands, angry spirits.”
Luthia laughs and soon the rest of her friends, including you laugh as well.
“Those are legends, you simple fool, there are no spirits in the world”, Luthia says, riding up to Yoongi just to slap the back of his head.
Yoongi reacts, turning his head to glare at her.
“People disappear in those lands and you want to enter them like a reckless child?” he spits.
Luthia frowns.
“Now I understand your anger with him ___ he is way too noisy.”
Yoongi scoffs, turning to you.
“Your Highness believe me, you don’t want to enter the spirits’ lands.”
You laugh, “keep your mouth shut Yoongi. We are going.”
Yoongi twists the reins in anger. The princess is such a reckless child, one day she will get herself killed and maybe, just maybe, he will watch it happen.
The path is welcoming for now. High trees with barks of silver and red crowns of leaves. The sunlight enters the forest through little holes in the canopy, painting the paths and the surrounding scrubs ruby. The air smells fresh as well, warming your limbs.
“Tell me ___ isn’t he the fool, who helped your husband after you disciplined him?” another friend of the princess asks.
“Yes he is. He is the fool who thought it was his right to step in between”, you answer her with distaste.
The friend studies Yoongi’s face.
“He is just as ugly as you told me. Hey ugly”, she stubs his arm with the dull end of her arrow, “where did you get that scar from?”
Yoongi stays silent. In moments like these he wishes that he could live a different life. He enjoys being the Queen’s warrior as she was a kind woman, but truly when he has to be alone with the princess and her horrible friends he wishes that he could live a different life.
“He probably got it from helping another woman’s husband”, Luthia jokes, making them cackle.
“Or maybe he got it from fighting spirits”, the friend jokes.
Laughter bounces off the high trees, taunting Yoongi.
“No, but please be honest where did you get it from, ugly?” Luthia asks.
He knows that she doesn’t want to hear the truth. She wasn’t interested in him, she just wanted to poke fun at him.
“I can’t remember”, Yoongi murmurs.
“Ha! He says he can’t remember. Did you hear that? He probably hit himself with his own sword.”
Their laughter rings in his ears and forces a shaky exhale over his lips. He truly wishes to live a different life in such moments.
“Oh!”
The laughter stops.
“Look Luthia the deer”, you exclaim, pointing at the poor animal in the far distance.
“This is mine”, Luthia whispers and draws her bow.
She hits the deer on its shoulder, making it run away.
“Stay! You are not allowed to run away from me!” Luthia screams, kicking her horse roughly and galloping off.
“Luthia! Slow down!”
You turn to Yoongi.
“Go after her and protect her.”
“Yes, Your Highness”, Yoongi obeys as always, galloping down the forest path.
He meets the horrible woman at the end of the path.
Yoongi shivers, slowing down his horse. They have reached the border to the spirits’ lands. The once ivory path is corrupted by the black soil creeping out of the dark forest. The air was tense and the light sparse. The smell of death lingered on every inch of ground and the once proud trees were wilted and black, sparse of leaves and life.
Yoongi reaches the horrible girl. She looks at him and his fingers around the handle of his sword.
“What’s that? The forest looks so ugly here” she asks him in disgust.
“The border to the spirits’ land”, Yoongi answers her.
She looks at him.
“I didn’t ask for jokes right now, crip”, she spits.
Yoongi lowers his eyes in anger.
“I don’t make jokes, girl. Now let’s turn around and join the others.”
“No. The deer ran inside, I want my arrow back.”
“The arrow is gone, let’s leave.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“I don’t work for you”, Yoongi growls and turns his horse, “let’s leave.”
He can watch the princess and the rest of her horrible friends ride down the windy path and he is in no mood to fight for five more people if the spirits decide to show themselves.
“I am still higher in rank than you. Now you will show me some respect.”
Yoongi felt the cold blade of her arrow’s head rest itself on his shoulder. He clenches his jaw. The princess watched it happening, telling her horse to go faster in reaction.
“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out under his breath.
“Luthia, why are you holding an arrow against my warrior’s neck?”
“My arrow is inside this forest and this fool refuses to help me.”
Yoongi knows that she was lying, but doesn’t say anything. His chest fills with anger when the princess’ cold eyes land on his face.
“You are going to do as you are told and retreat Luthia’s arrow.”
“She can go herself, I’m not risking my life for an arrow.”
Shocked gasps cut through the air. The princess lowers her eyes in anger. Yoongi can watch how she raises her riding crop, closing his eyes in anticipation. The hit is harder than he had initially thought it would be, leaving a dark red imprint on his cheek.
“This was a warning, if you disobey me again I will strike you with my sword.”
Yoongi clenches his jaw, staying on his horse.
“Go!” she yells at him, raising her riding crop a second time.
Yoongi catches it, almost breaking it between his fingers as anger makes his grasp iron.
He pushes it away, jumping off his horse afterwards.
“There we go, ugly”, Luthia spits.
Yoongi takes two steps and then he falters, staring into the darkness of the spirits’ lands. He knows the legends. Knows the stories of people losing their minds in those woods. Knows the stories of people getting lost on the windy paths. Knows the stories of the people dying in those forests, damned to a fate of being forgotten. Yoongi doesn’t frighten easily, but at this moment he is so scared that he can feel his knees begin to shake.
“Go on you’ve come so far already”, the princess encourages him with a dark smirk.
Then a sharp pain in his shoulder. One of her friends poked him with the tip of her sword.
“Don’t make us wait.”
He sends her a deathly glare over his shoulder, draws his sword and sets foot into the forest. His foot had to simply touch the soil and he felt his bones fill with iciness. The air made it hard to breathe and even his heart seemed to struggle with pumping his blood through his veins.
The laughter of the horrible girls rings in his ear like distorted whispers of death.
Yoongi tightens the grip around his sword, having to swallow deeply to get air into his lungs again.
“I-if there a-are spirits w-with me, k-kill the g-girls in m-my stead”, he stutters, “they would deserve it”, he adds under his breath.
“Hey ugly! Found it?”
“Or are you busy fighting spirits?”
Laughter, shrill and loud. The magic in those forests corrupts it.
Sweat, he could feel it run down his forehead. Air. If his lungs don’t work soon he will faint.
Laughter. Laughter. Laughter.
“Ugly where are you?”
“Don’t run away!”
Air. Air. Air.
“Fuck”, Yoongi stops, seeking support against one of the trees.
It burns. His hand burns.
He pulls back quickly, staring at the black goo on his fingers. It was smoking.
“What is that?” he exclaims, wiping it off quickly “get off of me.”
He raises his fingers, they are shaking uncontrollably. Blisters. They weren’t here before. The tree burned him.
Air. Air. Air.
Yoongi grunts, blinking quickly. His vision is blurry. Where is the path? Where is he?
Intruder. We have an intruder.
Whispers, hundreds of them. 
Intruder. Who’s that? Intruder. Death to him. Death. Death. Death. 
Hands, black fog, they are closing around his limbs and neck. They fight him, trying to drag him to his knees. 
"Stay away", he chokes out, cutting through the air around himself. 
He fights! He fights back! Death to him! Death to every human!
“Ah!” Yoongi yells.
An arrow had hit the tree right beside his head.
Laughter.
Yoongi turns.
The princess has her bow raised, wearing an amused smirk.
“Look you made the little cub frighten”, Luthia squeals and giggles.
Yoongi looks at the arrow. White body, red feathers. It is one of the princess’ arrows.
“Come back Yoongi and don’t forget to take my arrow with you!” she calls out and cackles.
Yoongi feels his blood boil. He rips the arrow out of the tree and runs back to the others.
Come back! Don’t run! No! No! No! Death to all humans!
The fog follows him.
Laughter. They are still laughing at him despite the danger.
Don’t run little tiger! Don’t run!
One more step. Yoongi jumps, feet landing on the ivory path. His knees give up on him in an instance, his body sinks in on itself.
“Stand up ugly.”
Yoongi feels the icy gust of wind on his skin. Whispers are in the air. The horses become restless. The laughter finally dies down.
“What was that?” Luthia asks, drawing her sword, “hey ugly what did you do?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer her for catching his breath is all he can think of. His lungs burn as if the fogs had poisoned them. Oh he is so scared that tears have formed in his eyes. He can’t cry, not right now, not in front of them. He can’t cry.
“Yoongi! Stand up you useless man!” the princess spits.
Yoongi lifts his head.
“We want to leave, it is so icy here.”
He grunts. His sword comes in handy for he couldn’t possibly stand up without its help.
“Give me my arrow.”
Yoongi lifts it to the princess' fingers. His hands are shaking, aching from the burns on his palms.
“Ew what is that black goo? No, throw it away. I don’t want it anymore.”
Anger fills his stomach. Yoongi breaks the arrow and throws it on the ground. She scoffs and laughs.
“Now get on your horse or we’ll just leave you here.”
They ride back to the Queen, laughing about how they scared Yoongi and how amusing he looked when he startled. Truly in such moments Yoongi wishes to live a different life.
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The bells were ringing. Yoongi never heard those bells before. He was not supposed to hear them. Nobody was. They were supposed to stay silent until time had taken everyone and nature reclaimed the castle.
And yet they did, shaking the entire castle awake.
“Breach! We have been breached!”
Yoongi is on his feet in an instance, grasping his sword and running out of his bedroom. He had no time to do his hair or put real clothes on. The castle was under attack, his duties were more important.
Screams echo through the hallways. Some originated in anger, some in pain, some were distorted in fear. Yoongi made no difference between them. The castle was never supposed to be filled with screams. People ran, barely even noticing when they bumped into him. Yoongi looked into their eyes and saw fear. He understood them. Most of them never learned how to fight for fighting seemed unnecessary in the safety of the castle.
“Keep running! Take the tunnels leading to the mountains!” he tells them.
“Master! Young master!” one of the Queen’s servants, his hands were covered in blood.
He stumbles, clasping Yoongi’s arms tightly.
“Speak.”
“The Queen. She is in danger.”
“Where is she?”
“The ballroom, she locked herself up with some of her servants. They, they are trying to break through.”
“Keep running, don’t stop until you are in the tunnels”, Yoongi tells the young servant before he runs faster.
They are all running away. While he is chasing the danger.
The air smells of blood and burning flesh. The fight must be near. He can hear the shrill screeching of metal. Just round the corner. His soldiers are fighting bravely. Just like he thought, those are Morrok’s men.
“Fuck”, he presses out, leaving his soldiers. They will manage. He needs to make sure the Queen is safe.
Yoongi fights his way through the crowd. His hands were warm from the blood of other people covering them. He slices through all of them, leaving a trail of bodies behind.
Just down the hallway. Yoongi stops. Fire was illuminating the path. Shadows hid behind them, turning at the sound of Yoongi dragging his sword over the ground.
He tilts his head to the side, giving the intruders a menacing smile.
“What? Are we going to stand here all night?” he taunts.
They scream, storming up to him. Fools.
Yoongi changes his stance, lowering his eyes like a tiger watching its prey. He welcomes them all, punishing their foolery with precise cuts through their bodies.
They fall. Every single one of them falls under his punishing claws, they are just another addition to his endless path of corpses.
He listens. Silence. Thumping in the distance just past the fires.
“Fucking hell”, he presses out before running down the fiery hallway, “never like this element, way too hot for my taste”, he murmurs, shielding his mouth and nose with the help of his hand.
Thump. Thump . Thump.
It is rhythmic.
Just up those stairs.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Yoongi slays five more people.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Yoongi can see the ballroom. Five men are trying to break through. Yoongi quickens his steps.
Thump. Thump.
Then a punishing crack and the tall door falls apart.
“No!”
He runs and runs. The screams are unbearable in his ears.
“My Queen!”
Yoongi reaches the ballroom just in time to watch one of the men pierce the Queen’s intestines with a spear.
“No!” he roars.
“Kill him! It’s just one, kill him!” Morrok’s men scream, pointing their weapons at Yoongi.
He slays every single one of them, granting them deaths so painful even the fairies of death weeps for their souls. He spared one of them. The one carrying the spear. He spared him after cutting off both his legs. 
“Somebody help!” the man screams, fleeing from Yoongi.
He follows him over the floor, dragging his long sword behind himself and through the path of blood the man leaves behind.
“You are going to pay for what you did”, Yoongi growls angrily and blinded by rage he raises his sword to rip him apart like a tiger would its prey.
It is done. Yoongi stands in the man’s blood, hands shaking by his side for he was filled with rage.
“Sire.”
Yoongi turns.
“My Queen”, he is by her side in an instance, kneeling by her head, “my Queen don’t move.”
“Yoongi it was him, he let them inside.”
“Who did my Queen? Who?”
The Queen’s eyes flutter. She reaches for Yoongi’s hand. He grasps it tightly, soiling it with his dripping tears.
“My daughter…protect her…from her….husband…promise –“
“My Queen? My Queen?!”
Yoongi shakes her hand then her body then he touches her neck. No pulse.
“No, my Queen”, he presses out and whimpers, “my Queen forgive me, please forgive me.”
He closes her eyes with shaking fingers, forcing his tears down.
“I will protect her, I promise you”, he whispers, cupping her cheek, “farewell my Queen.”
He stands up with struggle for his knees wanted to give up in grief. He lost her, the woman who loved him as if he was her own flesh and blood. The woman, whose arms were wide open for him when he thought that the world didn't want him anymore. The woman, who gave him a chance at a new life and who taught him how to fight. And the woman he swore to protect with his life. He was supposed to die, not her. She was never supposed to die.
Yoongi sobs, fighting his way to the princess’ chambers. He didn’t know if his face felt warm from his tears or the blood of his enemies. Perhaps it was both, running down his cheeks and soiling his nightdress.
It was just over the courtyard. Yoongi felt his heart shatter with every corpse he passed. Those were his soldiers and his friends lying next to the enemy. All dead. It seemed as if he was the only one left alive.
He increases his steps. Was he already too late? Will the princess be dead already?
“Young tiger! Finally I looked for you everywhere! My wife, they took her”, the princess’ husband screams, running up to Yoongi with a dagger in his hand.
Yoongi felt blinding rage surge through his body. He let them inside. Safe her from her husband. The Queen’s words are ringing in his ears.
“You need to come with me please, I only have this measly dagger and I-I never learned how to fight”, he calls out.
Yoongi begins running. The husband smiles.
“Exactly, follow me”, he says excitedly, “it is just down by – “ his voice cuts off in a gurgle of pain.
Yoongi grunts and feels his sword pierce through the back of the traitor. He steps closer, forcing the blade through his stomach until his hand is touching the burning skin.
The husband gawks at him, asking him for reasons with just a look.
“This is for killing the Queen, you traitorous bastard”, Yoongi spits, twisting the sword and making the husband cry out his death screech.
Yoongi steps back, watching the pitiful corpse drop to the ground. He grunts, blinks his tears away and runs again.
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He finds the princess on his journey to her chambers. They are dragging her away. She is screeching, fighting against their grasps.
“My princess!” Yoongi runs.
He is not going to break the promise he made to the Queen.
“Yoongi?” she whips around, “help me, you useless man!”
Yoongi falters in his steps.
But then. There are six of them and he feels his arm begin to tire out.
“Help me! Please help me!”
Yoongi tilts his head to the side and watches her with lifeless eyes.
She never treated him well. Perhaps he could just turn around.
“Shut up you whore”, one of the abductors yells and slaps her cheek.
“No”, she screeches.
Yoongi watches as one of the men forces a piece of cloth into her mouth. It makes her cry miserably. His blood boils in anger.
They are going to hurt her. They are going to hurt her in ways he wishes not even on his deepest enemies.
Yoongi tightens his grip around his sword and runs.
He is not going to let them hurt her. He swore to protect her. The evil spirits in his head tested him and he passed. He is not going to run away, he is going to fight.
Yoongi fights bravely, slaughtering four of them.
“Get him Kentov.”
The tall man raises his hammer. It shatters Yoongi’s sword in an instance, forcing him to stumble back. 
“How?” he manages to get out and then fingers wrap themselves around his throat so tightly he sees darkness within seconds.
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Yoongi opens his eyes and gasps. He sits up, grasping for his throat.
“You’re awake, finally.”
He looks to his side then down at his wrists. They are tied up. Just as his ankles are. He looks back at you.
“My princess”, he croaks.
“Yes you failed, we got captured”, you spit.
Yoongi looks around. You and him were on a carriage, locked in a cage.
“What happened?” he asks.
You scoff and look away, “you passed out after failing to protect me, now we are locked in this cage on our way to heavens knows where.”
Yoongi shifts into a more comfortable sitting position, letting his head fall against the wooden stakes. He grunts, scrunching his nose up. His shoulder aches unbearably.
“I watched you hesitate.”
He turns, just his head. There is anger on your features.
“You hesitated to save me.”
Yoongi scoffs.
“Once we are back home I will tell mother of your disobedience.”
Yoongi grinds his teeth.
“Answer me!”
“Your mother is dead, Your Highness.”
“What?”
“Killed because your husband betrayed you. There is no home to go back to.”
Yoongi watches your eyes fill with tears and he falters. He never saw you cry before.
“No, don’t say that. You’re lying!”
“I fear that I am not.”
“No”, you choke out and weep miserably.
Yoongi turns away again and closes his eyes. He won’t comfort you, instead he allows his own tears to run down his cheeks, keeping silent.
They feed you rotten bread that night. You don’t eat anything, neither does Yoongi.
They keep you close to the group by the horses.
“This is your fault”, you spit.
“My fault?” Yoongi growls.
“If you fought harder we wouldn’t be in this position right now. Hungry and freezing.”
“Ha”, Yoongi scoffs, grinding his teeth.
“You are just as useless as my husband. May the Morguls rip his soul apart.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue.
“Where is my husband? Shouldn’t he be with those traitors?”
Yoongi lowers his eyes in anger, “I killed him.”
“What?”
“I cut open his stomach until I could watch life die out in his eyes.”
“How dare you? Do you want to be killed?”
Yoongi looks at you with dark eyes. You reach out and strike his face.
“Why are you hitting me?” he asks coldly, “I protected you.”
“You didn’t do shit. You hesitated, I saw you stop. You wanted them to take me”, you hit him a second time.
Yoongi grinds his teeth.
“If only my hands weren’t tied. I would choke the life out of you. This is all your fault, all of it.”
“My fault? I fought hard!”
“And yet my mother is dead. All of my friends are dead. Our people are dead. You failed to protect them. This all happened because of you!”
“With all due respect Your Highness, your words mean nothing to me and yes, perhaps I truly stopped for I remembered all the times you watched me suffer with amusement in your eyes”, Yoongi spits.
He watches your eyes fill with tears. Perhaps they were tears of sadness, perhaps they were tears of anger.
“Out of all the people and I am captured with you. Fuck, I should have just killed myself in my chambers.”
Yoongi scoffs and looks away.
“Perhaps you should have”, he murmurs.
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You had walked for seven days until finally taking a break. It was hard, your feet ached so terribly and your limbs felt as heavy as stone. The land changed. The forest became darker and the air tenser. They tied you to one of the crippled trees. It was wet around you, cold and the stench of rotting flesh was lingering in the soil.
“Where do you think they are taking us?” you ask Yoongi, barely keeping your eyes open.
“To Morrok”, he answers you dryly.
“Morrok? But I thought he lived south.”
“They are moving camp so it seems.”
“Why?”
“Talks of a strong leader in the north. They call him Rafkan.”
“Rafkan”, you repeat the name, “I heard whispers of that name.”
“Yes, Your Highness. He is one of the Nïuri. It is said that the Black Forest of the Night Queendom was once a forest of golden oak trees until Rafkan claimed it for himself six hundred years ago. His hatred poisoned the forest until it was the mirror of his dark heart.”
“But the Nïuri are peaceful people, they use their immortality to build forests, to nourish nature and to, to protect the history of this world. Why would one of them be filled with so much evil that his heart is able to poison an entire forest?”
Yoongi looks at you with dark eyes, “Spite, anger, perhaps he grew bored of being used as a woman’s punching bag.”
The silence, which follows is heavy on your heart. You lower your eyes.
“And you believe that Morrok wants to join Rafkan?” you ask quietly.
“Yes, I believe he does”, Yoongi answers you dryly, resting his head back against the tree he was currently leaning against.
You look at your captors. They are laughing and singing by a fire, feasting on the deer they had killed this morning. They looked like friends having fun. How can they be filled with such hatred? They killed everyone. Your friends, your mother, your siblings. They left you alone, murdered innocent people and now they are celebrating as if they were nothing but innocent friends.
“I hate them so much”, you press out.
“Me too”, he answers you dryly, fighting sleep.
They look at you then, talking quietly. You shiver under their glares. It felt as if you were prey watched by an unbeatable enemy.
“They are looking at us”, you whisper.
Yoongi tenses up and opens his eyes.
One of the men stands up.
Yoongi sits up straight, turning to you.
 “Put this on Your Highness”, he stresses.
“What? No! No, don't put dirt on my face”, you gasp, looking between Yoongi and his dirt covered fingers.
“I’m sorry Your Highness, truly”, he says.
“No, stay away, oh god the smell”, you say and gag, “no, where are you putting your hand? Stay away.”
“This is going to save you”, he says shakily, covering the insides of your thighs with the rotting soil as well.
“I will have your hands cut off”, you spit, wiggling away but to no avail.
“Hello hello”, the man announces himself.
Yoongi sits back, knee bouncing up and down nervously and eyes glued to the man’s face. He was pinning you down with his dark eyes, licking over his chapped lips hungrily.
“You know five months without a woman’s touch can make a man’s cock hurt unbearably”, the man begins, reaching down to twist your hair.
“I wonder how the cunt of a princess feels like. Is it tighter than that of a common witch?”
You squeak, heart beginning to race. You can see it. See it swell in his pants. Now you understand.
“Please don’t”, you beg.
The man smiles, “oh it’s always better when they are fighting me. Get up.”
He tugs on your hair, trying to get you to stand up.
“No p-please don’t do this.”
He chuckles, tilting your head up. Suddenly he stops, scrunching his nose up as he sniffles loudly.
“What is that smell?” he murmurs.
He twists your hair, leans closer and smells you.
“Urgh disgusting”, he exclaims, shooting away. His hand lands across your face harshly, “you dirty whore”, he growls, spitting on your face.
He turns, hurrying back to the others with curses leaving his throat.
“Oh god”, you choke out, reaching for your face. You feel for it, touch it despite the rotting soil on your skin, “you.”
You turn to Yoongi. He is looking at you, holding his breath.
“You saved me”, you whisper.
He lowers his eyes.
Yoongi stays quiet, ripping off a piece of his dress. He gets on his knees, turning to you.
“Please let me clean you, Your Highness.”
You nod your head, shivering when his fingers come to rest on the nape of your neck. He touches your cheek tentatively and begins cleaning you as best as possible.
“How did you know that this would work?”
Yoongi looks into your eyes for only a moment, faltering in an instance for looking at you was always paired with consequences.
“It’s what me and my sister used to do when the bad men came to our village”, he confesses quietly.
“What?”
“Our mother taught us how to protect ourselves against people wanting to use our bodies. She always told us to be disgusting, to shit or pee or vomit all over ourselves because the people wanting us harm don’t like dirty people.”
He cleans the last piece off, discarding the fabric somewhere on the ground. He lowers his eyes.
“I’m sorry Your Highness, for touching your thighs in such manners and for covering you in dirt. I shall take my punishment accordingly.”
You touch his chin, making him tense up. You tilt his head up, making him look into your eyes.
“Thank you”, you whisper and smile.
Yoongi is puzzled, furrowing his brows and blinking rapidly.
“Your Highness…”
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Yoongi had been missing for too long. They took him, dragging him away from you until you couldn’t see them anymore. It has been too long. The shadows have wandered too much. They shouldn’t be gone for so long. He should be back by now.
He helped you again earlier that night. They tried to come for you again so Yoongi helped you, he tried to cover your face in some animal’s feces. He got caught and got dragged away in your stead.
Two men stayed with you. They watched you the entire time, talking with each other about what they would do to you if only the boss would allow them. It made you press yourself against your cage in fear. You had never heard men talk in such ways before, you didn’t even know that they were capable of such thoughts in the first place. Until now you had only really heard a few of your fellow women talk in such manners and yet it seems that men were just as cruel in their thoughts.
They brought Yoongi to you once the sun began to set. He clearly struggled with his steps, stumbling every so often. One of the men had an iron grip around his long hair, keeping him from escaping.
“You’re back?” one of your two guards says.
“He didn’t scream, tzt, he is no fun”, the man whose hand is in Yoongi’s hair says, “walk.”
He pushes Yoongi, making him stumble to the cage. He unlocks it and throws Yoongi inside.
Yoongi collides with the ground in a painful groan, rolling on his back and keeping his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily.
“Sleep well fucker”, the man spits, locking the cage.
He walks off with the two other men, whistling a cheerful melody.
Now you are truly alone with Yoongi.
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Yoongi groans and sits up slowly.
“Fuck”, he presses out.
His eyes meet yours. He clenches his jaw.
“Did they hurt you?” you ask him.
“Tzt”, he looks away.
“Where did they hurt you?”
“Just leave me alone”, he spits, crawling into one corner of the cage to lie down again.
“I can help.”
“Keep it, your hands do more harm than good.”
That hits deep. You lower your eyes in shame.
“At least let me look at it.”
“No.”
“You swore to protect me, didn’t you? I can’t have you die on me.”
Yoongi stays silent.
“Yoongi this is an order.”
He turns his back to you.
You gasp. They ripped his clothes open at the back.
“Are those burn marks?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer you.
“They burned you, didn’t they?”
He sighs an annoyance.
“I can help you”, you say, crawling to him as best as your tied limbs allow you to. You place your hands on his shoulder.
He flinches away.
“Don’t touch me”, he growls.
“Where else did they burn you?”
He turns around. Anger is distorting his face
“I said to leave me alone!” he spits.
“But-“
“What good can cruel hands like yours do? You inflicted more pain on me than any other person and now you want to use them for good?” he lets his dark eyes run over your face, “I should have allowed them to drag you away.”
“Don’t say that”, you gasp, feeling your heart shatter in your chest, “please let me help”, you beg, cupping his ruined face.
He flinches away.
“This all happened because of you”, he growls angrily, “if you had been nicer to your husband he wouldn’t have felt the need to betray us.”
Silence.
You close your mouth, falling against the cage with a painful laugh.
He clicks his tongue and scoffs, turning his back to you again.
“Is that what you think of me?” you whisper, waiting for an answer that will never come.
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You have been walking the entire day. The sun is sweltering, punishing even. Your throat is so dry that the taste of blood has been lingering on your tongue for way too long. You are so close to the end of your strengths. But you weren’t worried about yourself, you were worried about Yoongi.
His skin was covered in sweat and yet he shivered. It was pale, grey even. He stumbled more than he walked. The redness on his back has grown, spanning all over his shoulder blades. It is almost reaching his neck too, spreading through his veins like a curse.  
“Yoongi”, you whisper.
He stays quiet, barely keeping his eyes open.
“Yoongi how are you feeling?”
He glances at you and scoffs.
“He needs a break!” you call out.
The men snicker, but don’t turn around.
“Please at least give him some water!”
“Quiet whore”, one of them whips around and slaps you across the face so hard you feel your lip break. You can’t barely feel the pain which follows, you are too worried for Yoongi.
“Please just one sip.”
“He wants one sip? Fine he can have a sip”, the man spits, grabbing Yoongi’s chin harshly to force water down his throat.
Yoongi gags and chokes.
“Stop that! Stop it!”
Their laughter taunts you.
The man finally lets go of Yoongi, making him cough and fall to his knees.
“I hope you enjoyed your water, Sire.”
Yoongi grunts, twisting the dried grass between his fingers.
“Let’s get going!”
The group begins moving again. Yoongi stays on the ground.
“Yoongi stand up”, you order him shakily, “I’m ordering you to stand up”, you stress, looking behind you at the two very heavily armed men coming closer and closer.
“Hey you! Keep walking!” they call out, quickening their steps.
“Yoongi please stand up”, you beg, tugging at the sleeve of his dress, “they’re going to hurt you if you don’t stand up.”
Yoongi doesn’t budge, panting heavily.
“They’re coming Yoongi”, you fall to your knees, trying your hardest to wiggle your head between his tied up arms. You could lift him like that, if only he would let you wiggle inside.
“Stand up!” the man yells and whips Yoongi on the back.
Yoongi tenses up and lets out an almost inaudible whimper.
“Stop that! He’s already standing up!” you scream.
You tug at Yoongi’s arm, “please stand up.”
“I can’t”, he whispers shakily.
“What? No, you have to. He is going to hurt you again”, you whisper with tears in your eyes.
“Time’s over, stand up”, the man barks and raises his whip.
“No!” you exclaim, hugging Yoongi’s back to accept the hit in his stead. You whimper, grasping Yoongi’s arm tightly. It hurts like nothing you have ever felt before, forcing the tears to run down your cheeks, “why are you doing this to him? He didn’t do anything wrong! Hurt me instead!”
The man scoffs, storing his whip back on his belt.
“Don’t you get it princess? You are reserved for Morrok. We’ll just have to hurt your warrior in your stead.”
“You monsters”, you sob, hiding your face in Yoongi’s back, “Yoongi please stand up”, you beg.
“I can’t.”
“Hey Kentov help this fucker up, it’s no good if he dies here”, the leader yells from the front. 
“Yes my Lord”, Kentov grumbles and grabs Yoongi’s arms, “stand up Sire, seems like the boss still wants you to live.”
Yoongi can barely stand. You are by his side in an instance, holding him as best as possible.
“I’ll help you. Lean onto me Yoongi.”
“Walk, we don’t have all day", Kentov and the other man push you and Yoongi.
Yoongi stumbles, you hold him as best as possible, forcing down a painful sob as looking at Yoongi’s face rips your heart apart.
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They leave you far away from the fire, shackled to a tree and with hunger plaguing your bodies. They hit you again - Kentov and the other man - when their boss wasn’t looking. It hurt you, but you didn’t care, not when Yoongi was lying beside you unconscious and barely breathing.
“See you tomorrow princess, sleep tight.”
And with that they leave whilst laughing as if life was the greatest joy. You glare at them, cursing them silently. Yoongi moves below you, moaning in pain.
“Yoongi”, you gasp, turning him around, “no, Yoongi please wake up”
You drag him back to the tree with lots of effort. You allow him to rest his head on your lap. He rolls to his side, pulling his legs to his chest before whimpering softly.
“Why are they hurting you? Why you?” you ask shakily, caressing his ruined face with trembling fingers. It rips you apart inside for he was never supposed to bear your sufferings or those of your traitorous husband. You sob, soiling his face with your hot tears.
“I’m sorry Yoongi, I’m so sorry for doing this to you”, a whimper shakes your body, “I’m sorry.”
You tug a strand of his blonde hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his cheek desperately.
“I will fix this. I, I can fix this”, you stutter and close your eyes, “I can fix this.”
Yoongi barely takes in the spells of your ancestors you begin to whisper. He feels that his face doesn’t ache as much anymore however. You sob, whispering shakily. The words are hard to remember. You never paid attention when your mother taught you the magic of your ancestors. You curse yourself for not being more attentive, maybe then you could have already escaped your abductors and Yoongi would have never had to suffer.
At least you paid attention when your mother taught you the healing spells of your people and while you remembered only one of the dozen spells you hoped that it was the one most effective.
Yoongi opens his eyes all of sudden, looking up at you.
You touch his back.
“No!” he squeaks and flinches away. He presses his eyes closed, trembling in fear.
“Please trust me”, you whisper and sob softly, “I will stop the pain.”
Yoongi listens to the words of ancient times, eyes filling with tears because he felt it hurt less and less with every word you spoke until it stopped completely.
You open your eyes, meeting his relieved gaze.
“Did I help?” you ask him.
He nods his head, furrowing his brows, “thank you so much”, he chokes out.
Your heart fills with relief and yet it keeps aching.
You whimper, cupping his cheek, “I’m so sorry, for everything.”
“Your Highness.”
“No, I’m not worthy of your respect”, you sob, “please call me by my name.”
Yoongi closes his eyes and whimpers quietly. You comb your fingers through his hair, hoping that this could lessen the pain in his mind.
“Forgive me Yoongi, I don’t deserve your forgiveness but please I am so terribly sorry”, you choke out.
Yoongi sits up with your help. He faces you, reaching out to cup your cheek and brush your tears away.
“We have to escape from here”, he whispers, “Your Highness, we can’t stay here. Who knows what they will do to you now that their restraints are gone.”
“I don’t care”, you whimper, “let them hurt me, at least I deserve to be hurt for all the cruelty I inflicted on others.”
“No my princess, you don’t want to live through this”, he insists, “you don’t know what they are capable of.”
“Why are you defending me? You said so yourself, I inflicted more pain on you than anyone else. They hurt you because of me. It’s my fault”, choke out and sob.
Yoongi grasps your face tighter, forcing you to look into his eyes. They were filled with tears, yet deep down you found comfort in them.
“I lost my sister to people like Morrok. I had to watch as they all took turns on her until she died from the pain and even then they didn’t stop. Don’t you get it? These people aren’t human and they are going to do the same thing to you once we reach Morrok.”
He rests his forehead against yours.
“I can’t let this happen to you. I made a promise to your mother to keep you safe and I intend on keeping it”, he whispers, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. 
“Yoongi”, you whimper, twisting the front of his dress. Your tears feel heavy as they roll down your cheeks, but they were nothing against the heaviness on your heart as you opened your eyes and realised that he had his closed. They were nothing against the invisible hand around your lungs as you realised that he exhaled shakily before opening them. They were nothing against the unbearable flutter in your stomach when they finally met yours.
“I will find a way, please trust me”, he whispers.
“I trust you Sire.”
He nods his head.
“Now turn around, Your Highness, I need to see if your wound is infected.”
“No, you don’t have to. I can heal myself”, you say, running your fingers over your lip to heal your cut in demonstration.
He hums in understanding and sneaks a glance at the men far away.
“You should sleep Your Highness, I feel like tomorrow we aren’t going to stop for a long time.”
“What about you?”
“I will make sure that nobody hurts you.”
“No, you should sleep in my stead. I’m not tired.”
“Your Highness I – “
You silence him by cupping his cheeks.
“This is an order, Sire.”
He falters, furrowing his brows.
“I’m not going to repeat myself”, you say sternly and settle back against the tree. You part your legs, “rest against me, I will keep you warm.”
He is hesitant, studying you from head to toe. You are offering him kindness, a warm place to sleep. This isn’t like you. What happened to the cruel princess he so liked to hate?
“Come here”, you order.
Yoongi obeys groggily. He wiggles between your tied up arms and rests against your chest. Every fibre in his body is tensed. This can’t be happening. You rest your hands on his stomach.
“Now rest back and sleep”, you whisper.
He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t want to rest his head back against you. This goes beyond his promise of protecting you.
“Rest”, you say sternly, forcing him to his luck with a gentle push with your hands.
Yoongi grunts, exhaling loudly the moment the back of his head collides with your shoulder.
You stay silent, abandoning Yoongi in his racing thoughts. The lines between reality and his memory of you are starting to blur more and more. Are you even the cruel princess or is your sudden kindness just a desperate act of survival now that you had nobody else but him? Did you truly want his best or were you simply trying to keep him by your side because you feared for your life? Did you care for him?
Yoongi drifted off to sleep before he could get his answers, snuggling into your chest and sighing softly.
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They are talking. Kentov and another man. They are talking a few steps away from you, having their backs turned to you and Yoongi. Yoongi watches them intently, studying them from head to toe to find weaknesses in their armour.
It was silent where they abandoned him and the princess, if they weren’t talking so much the silence would have been comfortable even. The princess was currently sleeping, resting her head against Yoongi’s shoulder. He felt her every shiver because of the cold night air, wishing for fire fairies to come to her rescue and warm her with their golden breaths. He knew that tonight must be the night of their escape. The whispers of Morrok became more. They must be close. He can’t wait yet another night and risk the princess’ wellbeing in the process.
The princess shifts beside him, pressing herself closer in search for warmth. He felt himself shiver less on the parts of his body she touches. She was warming him as well.
Yoongi lowers his eyes and concentrates on cutting through his ropes again. He watches his abductors as he works, planning his attack. The man next to Kentov is only carrying his sword tonight. What a fool. Kentov only carried a small knife, playing with it mindlessly. Oh what simple fools. It will be an easy task to overwhelm them.
He turns his head to the princess and nudges her with his chin.
“Your Highness wake up”, he whispers.
The princess purrs in her sleep, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. He truly felt guilty for having to wake her. She fought bravely through her tiredness. Yoongi knew that her healing magic kept her alive, for every other person would have long died of exhaustion. But even magic has its limits and it seems that tonight was the night her body forsake her. She fell asleep on his shoulder the moment she sat down. He should allow her to sleep, but he can’t.
“Your Highness wake up”, he tries again, shaking his shoulder softly.
You groan, blinking slowly.
“It’s time Your Highness”, Yoongi says.
“For what?” your voice was heavy in sleep.
“They are speaking of Morrok again. We are getting too close, we need to flee tonight.”
You finally lift your head from his shoulder, looking at him with heavy eyes.
“Now? In this darkness?”
He nods his head, “it will hide us.”
“I understand”, you nod your head slowly, blinking your eyes, “How are we going to flee?” you ask him.
“I will do it.”
“But your limbs are tied.”
“Not anymore”, he says, revealing his untied wrists and ankles.
“How?” you gasp.
“They were foolish enough to place us next to those sharp stones. I used them to cut through the ropes”, he explains.
He gets on his knees and cups your face. You feel your cheeks tingle at the touch.
“Now stay Your Highness, I will overwhelm them”, he whispers.
Yoongi moves fast and silent. Like a phantom of white light he dances around the two men, striking them down quickly. One falls down with his neck broken. Kentov startles, turning to his now dead friend only to run directly into Yoongi’s blade. Yoongi twists the sharp blade in the eye socket of the man, muffling his screams with a suffocating grip on his mouth. Finally, Yoongi watches the life die out of Kentov’s eye. He drops his body without making a sound, pulling the blade free and wiping it on the man’s clothes.
Then he turns back to you. There was blood on his face and hands. He closes the distance between you and him, cutting through your ropes.
“That was astonishing Sire”, you gasp, grasping his arm as he helps you stand up.
“That was nothing”, he dismisses you, hurrying back to the bodies. He takes one of the men, looking at you over his shoulder, “help me Your Highness, we need to hide the bodies.”
You help him, grunting quietly as you drag the heavy body of Kentov behind some shrubs.
“Now let’s run, we need to put distance between us and Morrok’s people.”
“Wait.”
Yoongi stops and turns. He watches you take off Kentov’s sword belt and strip the two men of their furs. You stand up, wrapping one of the furs around your body.
“Here take these.”
Yoongi strips the sword to his body and drapes the fur over his shoulders. The knife he stores in the belt as well, grasping your hand next.
“Now quiet, follow me.”
You run, using what little moonlight the tense forest allowed to shine through as your only guidance. Your legs wanted to give up on you. Sleep was still lingering in your veins, making your head so terribly dizzy. But you knew not to complain and to keep running. You weren’t just gallivanting through the forest on a moonlit night because it was fun, you were running for your lives. You aren’t allowed to stop. Yoongi said so himself, you and him needed to put as much distance between Morrok’s men and yourself as possible.
“I can see the end”, he calls over his shoulder, “hurry Your Highness it’s not long anymore.”
You watch his hair dance in the wind. Then the forest stops. The moon is blinding after the endless darkness, soaking his hair in silver lights and painting his skin in ivory. He turns, slowing down and touching your shoulders.
“Please hold on for only a little longer. You know this path don’t you?”
You nod your head, breathing so heavily you taste blood on your tongue. You have been running for too long, your healing magic is so close to forsaking you.
“We walked this path this morning, we just need to reach this forest and then we can hide in the shrubs”, he tells you, “hold on until then.”
Then you run again. You run over the endless fields, fighting the punishing winds. The furs are helping a little with the cold, but your eyes burned unbearably. You stumble and fall.
Yoongi turns, lifting you up quickly.
“Don’t stop now, it is not long anymore.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know Your Highness, me too. I’m terribly tired, but please find strength in your legs. We need to find shelter in the forest. Those fields are too open.”
The sky burns in the fires of the rising sun once you reach the forest. Behind you the moon was still setting, disappearing behind the black forest which seems like a dark spot in the distance now.
You don’t go far into the forest and then your legs are already giving up on you, dragging Yoongi down with you. You and him roll down a steep hill of sharp gravel and wet dirt, colliding with a high wall of red rocks in the end.
You groan, rolling to your back.
Yoongi grunts, head aching from hitting it against the rock on impact.
“I think my leg is broken”, you press out.
“Don’t try to move it”, he chokes out, holding his aching wrist. He is sure that he broke it as well.
“Urgh heavens”, you groan, forcing your body to sit up one last time. You stare at your slanted leg, moving it slightly. You hiss and bite down on your own hand, “oh, it is most definitely broken.”
“Don’t move it Your Highness”, Yoongi answers you, barely keeping his eyes open. Exhaustion is catching up with him.
You touch your broken bone and close your eyes. The words of your ancestors come easy to your tongue these days. Relief is instant. You can feel how your bone shifts back into its place and how your words mend the cracks.
“I healed it”, you whisper, carrying shock in your voice, “Sire, I managed to heal my broken bones.”
“Mhm, that’s good Your Highness”, he breathes.
“Sire your wrist and head”, you gasp, dragging yourself over to him. You touch his head first, whispering the words again. Yoongi sighs softly, moving his head slightly now that it wasn’t aching anymore.
“Hand me your wrist next, I will heal it.”
Yoongi is too weak to fight back, allowing you to wrap your fingers around his wrist despite the pain it causes him. The pain isn’t of long however and then blissful relief follows. His bones and tendons shift under your fingertips, healing under your spell.
“How is that?” you ask him.
He peels his eyes open slightly, nodding his head.
“Your magic is getting quicker Your Highness”, he whispers with his voice barely there.
“I know”, you smile tiredly, collapsing on the ground, “it drains me so much however.”
Yoongi hums, scooping you up in his arms. Like this you are sharing warmth again, finding comfort in his chest.
You fall asleep in an instance, sharing a deep slumber with Yoongi as above your heads the sun moves over the sky twice before your eyes finally open again. 
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You walked for five days then you reached a river. It was clear, reflecting the blue of the sky. You were drinking some of the water while Yoongi was washing his weapons and hands beside you when your eyes caught something moving in the reeds on the other side of the river. You squint your eyes to see better and gasp. A human!
“Sire, look there is someone in the river!”
Yoongi whips around, eyes squinted so he could see better. He picks up his sword and runs to you.
“Stay here Your Highness”, he orders you, jumping into the river.
It isn’t steep where you are sojourning, reaching Yoongi by his navel. He can wade through it easily. He turns around.
“Your Highness I told you to stay back”, he hisses.
“Well, I decided that I want to help”, you answer him.
Yoongi looks at the big stone you are holding and scoffs.
“With that?” he asks and nods at the stone
You sneak a glance at it.
“Yes.”
“Fine, if they move try to hit them with all your power”, he murmurs and grabs your hand, “don’t let go Your Highness.”
“I won’t”, you promise him, hating your skin for prickling at the feeling.
The body was stuck in sticks and high grasses. Yoongi squats down and turns it.
A man. Black hair. His face was handsome yet pale, his plump lips were blue and purple.
“Is he dead?” you ask.
Yoongi touches the man’s neck.
“No, he’s alive.”
“Then let’s help him!” you exclaim, dropping the stone to wrap your fingers around the stranger’s wrist instead.
Yoongi stops you.
“Why are you stopping me? Look, he is clearly hurt!”
You and him look at the bite mark on the man’s leg. Blood is dyeing the water red around the water. Yoongi reaches for the man’s chest then, pulling the ripped shirt away.
“What’s that mark? Is that a raven?” you ask, looking between the stranger’s tattoo and Yoongi’s face.
Yoongi seems worried.
“Just as I had thought”, he murmurs coldly and stands up, “come Your Highness it’s not safe here”, he says and grabs your hand.
“What? But we need to help this man”, you insist loudly.
“No. He is one of them”, Yoongi says, tugging you away from the stranger.
“One of them? Morrok’s people? But they don’t wear such marks.”
“Rafkan’s people, Your Highness. He is a Raven.”
You look at the stranger.
“But…he doesn’t look like one.”
Yoongi scoffs and tugs at your arm.
“We need to keep moving”, he says dryly.
“No, I want to help this man. Maybe they marked him against his will and he escaped.”
Yoongi looks into your eyes.
“Your Highness I – “
“This is an order, Sire.”
He grinds his teeth and sighs in defeat.
“Very well, we’ll help. But I’m not staying until he wakes.”
He walks back to the stranger and lifts him onto his back. He grunts, changes his grip on the stranger’s arms and walks back to you.
“I saw a shed a hundred steps from here, we’ll lie him down by the riverbed and then we’ll leave.”
“Thank you.”
Yoongi clicks his tongue, giving you one judgemental look before fighting his way through the water. You stay by his side, making sure that the stranger doesn’t slip off of Yoongi’s back.
“Do you think that someone lives in this shed?” you ask him.
“The chimney is smoking, so yes Your Highness”, he answers you.
“So let’s ask them for help. Or new clothes and some food”, you say. 
“No.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know whose side they are on Your Highness.”
You huff out air.
“You’re right, I didn’t even think of that”, you murmur.
Thankfully the river didn’t become any deeper so it was an easy task to carry the stranger to the riverbed and then set him down on the safety of dry land. You put a stone under the stranger’s head so he would rest more comfortably, even if that made Yoongi shake his head in disagreement. He watches you stand up with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“What?”
“Nothing”, he murmurs. He looks at the shed, a little less than fifteen steps up on the hill, “let’s go, Your Highness.”
“Where are we going now?”
“They have clothes hanging outside.”
“What? Do you want to steal that poor person’s clothes?” you gasp, wiggling your hand in Yoongi’s tight grip.
“Yes.”
“No. I’m not going to steal!”
“You don’t have to, I will.”
“Yoongi.”
He sends you a glare over his shoulder.
“We need new clothes, the weather is going to get colder. We are going to freeze in those measly dresses.”
You huff out air, “fine, but place this on their steps”, you say and take off one of your rings.
Yoongi accepts it with a grumble before stomping off to steal the clothes.
You watch him with a guilty sting in your stomach, biting on your fingernails nervously.
He returns with a heap of clothes in his arms.
“Let’s leave”, he grumbles.
“I can’t believe that we stole that person’s clothes”, you say, looking over your shoulder at the ever smaller growing shed.
“We paid for them, that ring is worth more than hundreds of those clothes. They will forgive us.”
You huff out air and kick a stone back into the river.
“Do you think the wounded stranger will be found soon?”
“Perhaps.”
“By the person in the shed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think they saw us taking their clothes?”
“I hope not.
“How long do you think we still need to walk?”
“Far enough that they won’t find us.”
“Do you know where this river will lead us?”
“No.”
“Do you know where we are?”
“No Your Highness.”
“Do you think this is still our home country?”
Yoongi stops and turns around. You almost collided with his body in the process, stopping with a surprised squeak leaving your throat.
“Please, for just a moment be quiet”, he hisses.
You pout, “are you forbidding me my mouth?”
“Yes Your Highness I am. We don’t know where we are or what lingers in those forests and your endless chattering will alarm everything in a radius of fifty miles.”
You cross your arms in front of your arms and furrow your brows.
“You’re rude.”
“Perhaps, but I am trying to keep you alive.”
“Fine”, you give in and huff out air, “I’ll be quiet from now on.”
He nods his head in agreement and turns back around to lead the way.
You are quiet for the rest of the way, watching the back of Yoongi’s head most of the time. He is using a dirty rag to keep his long hair out of his face. He ripped it off his nightgown and the hairstyle was messy. He also dearly needs a hair wash, but you weren’t any better either. Your smell is disgusting you.
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You find your shelter after an hour of walking. An abandoned shed beside the river. The windows were missing and the door was almost falling out of its hinges. It seems safe for the night, dry too and it had a working bucket inside. It was truly a welcome change to the otherwise cold and wet nights outside.
You sit down in front of it with an exhausted sigh, watching Yoongi throw the pile of clothes in front of your feet and then sit down as well. He begins sorting through the clothes in an instance, doing so with a concentrated furrow of his brows.
“You should go wash up Your Highness, I’ll take watch”, he tells you.
“Where?”
He looks up with bafflement on his face.
“The river?”
“But it’s cold.”
He scoffs and looks back at the clothes.
“Fine”, you murmur, “I’m already going.”
You hide behind a big rock so Yoongi wouldn’t be able to glance at you. Not that he would ever look at you when you were bared. You know that he was way too stuck up and obsessed with his duties to think so crudely.
You sink into the water with a loud squeak.
“What’s wrong?” you can hear Yoongi’s worried call.
“It’s so cold!” you tell him.
You don’t hear anything from him afterwards, but you know that he is most definitely scoffing right now, or maybe he is clicking his tongue instead.
The water isn’t just cold, it is icy. Your body is covered in goosebumps and shivers make your muscles tense painfully. You hate every second of being submerged and yet somehow being submerged in cold yet clean water feels like luxury after weeks of having to sleep in your own shit and piss.
And while the bath would have been even more effective with the help of soaps, you finally feel human again once you leave the river. You wrap your dirty clothes around your body, walking back to Yoongi barefoot.
“Ouch, ah, ouch”, you grunt.
Yoongi looks at you in worry, eyes widening when he sees the half-naked state you were in. He turns around quickly, scratching the side of his neck.
“Those stones hurt on the feet”, you say and sit down next to him.
He turns around even more, clearing his throat before he stands up. He has his back turned to you.
“I’m going to clean up now. I put your new clothes on the log over there”, he tells you nervously, hurrying down to the river afterwards.
You chuckle. He is so stuck-up sometimes.
Then you turn to the pile of clothes and begin to dress yourself. They are a big change to your ripped nightgown. The fabric is thick and sturdy, warming your limbs. You look down at your body. It is so peculiar to see your legs in trousers. They aren’t really tradition in your lands, for neither women nor men. You liked them however. They feel so warm. You could get used to it. 
Once dressed you do your hair, tying it out of your face and neck. Your mother always told you that it was important to keep the wet hair out of your neck on a cold day, otherwise a terrible cold could take control of your body. The memory makes your chest ache. Oh what you wouldn’t give to experience it once again, if only so you could freshen up your memory of your mother’s face.
You finish the hairstyle by tying a tight knot.
“Finally, oh I feel human again”, you sigh.
You turn then.
“Oh”, you gasp.
Yoongi isn’t hiding behind the rock. He has his back turned to you, the water reaches just above his hips.
You should look away. It is rude to look.
His body is sturdier than it seemed in the loose dresses of your people. Broad shoulders and a well defined back. Strong arms with lean muscles tensing and relaxing as he rubs his body clean. His skin is fair yet covered in scars. You wonder what could have happened to him.
Yoongi lowers himself then, grunting as he does. He disappears for a moment, making you hold your breath with him.
Suddenly he emerges with a loud gasp, stroking his hands through his hair. He has his head tilted back, giving you a glimpse of his face. His eyes are closed, his lips parted as he is breathing heavily because of the cold temperature.
You should look away. You are such a dirty woman.
Yoongi stands up again. The water drips from his body, looking like stars against the sunlight. He is farther out the water now, giving you a glimpse of the beginning of his bottom.
Your heart flutters. You should look away. You have to look away. It is not your right to watch him bathe.
He turns then. Your heart races. Time allows you to see his toned torso just enough that you can notice the dozens of scars covering his pale skin and then your eyes have travelled far enough up his body that your gazes meet.
You feel like your eyes may fall out of their sockets because of how wide you rip them open. You turn away in an instance, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“What is wrong with me?” you murmur.
You can hear his steps as he makes his way back to you. He leans down to pick up his clothes, his hair is dripping water on the ground. Your heart is racing uncontrollably. Oh how you hope that he won’t call you out on your staring.
“Are you liking the clothes, Your Highness?” he asks.
“Yes, they are warm”, you answer him, touching your own cheeks to stop them from burning.
“Good”, he says dryly then disappears inside the shed to change into his clothes.
You look at him again as he leaves, running your eyes over his shoulders and down his spine to his legs.
You laugh nervously, touching your chest to feel your racing heartbeat.
“Have I lost my mind?”
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Yoongi steps out after a while. He is carrying his sword. Your eyes meet, your heart beginning to flutter again. He knows what you are thinking and you know what he is thinking, yet neither one of you speaks it out loud.
“I’m going to hunt”, he says dryly.
“I’ll come with you”, you say, stumbling to your feet.
“No, stay here and prepare the fire.”
He steps closer, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. Your heart skips yet another beat at the gesture.
“Take this, use it against anyone and anything that isn’t me”, he tells you, placing a big knife in your palm.
You close your fingers around the handle, pulse racing in your chest.
“If someone tries to attack you, stab them here”, he says, pulling you closer to his body. The tip of the knife is digging into his stomach, his fingers feel strong around your wrist, keeping your hand in place.
You swallow, nodding your head.
“And if that isn’t possible, try to stab them here”, he explains further, moving the tip of the knife to his armpit, “and do it hard”, he adds, grunting quietly as he makes you poke him with the knife.
Oh you must be losing your mind. You have never felt such sparks before. As if millions of fire fairies were crawling over your skin.
“This is also a good place. If you cut deep enough it will kill them within seconds”, he says, guiding the knife to his groin, making your eyes widen in the process. His fingers tighten around your wrist, his legs part so he could show it to you better, “cut like this and they can’t walk”, he shows it to you, sending your mind into a frenzy.
You nod your head in understanding, eyes flitting up and meeting with Yoongi’s. He is frowning, he doesn’t falter under your gaze but you do. You never falter. You must be losing your mind.
“Understood?” he asks.
You clear your throat and take a step back, twisting the knife in your fingers.
“Y-yes thank you”, you say.
“Mhm”, Yoongi says, turning his back to you. He looks at you over his shoulder, “I’ll be back at nightfall. Don’t go too far.”
“I-I won’t”, you stutter.
“Mhm”, he nods his head in contentment then finally runs into the forest.
He soon disappears behind high trees and tense shrubs.
“Ha”, you let out and laugh breathlessly, “I must be losing my mind. I must be losing my mind. I just must.”
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You had been trying for hours to light this fire.
“Come on, how hard can it be to light a fire?” you murmur angrily.
The door opens and in steps Yoongi, carrying two rabbits. He studies you from head to toe then looks at the unlit fire.
"I was out for three hours, what did you do in this time?" he asks, squatting down next to you to take the stones out of your hands. 
"Trying to start a fire", you hiss. 
Yoongi hits the stones together. Sparks fly, the dry grass is catching fire in an instance.
“How did you manage to do that?” you gasp.
He clicks his tongue, sneaking a look your way. Yoongi blows on the embers until flames swirl in his breath and reach the wood. 
"Oh why is it smoking so much?" you gasp, coughing loudly. 
"Where did you get those twigs from?" 
"The forest, I picked them." 
"Did you pick them off the ground or off the trees?" 
"The trees of course, the wood on the ground looked dirty." 
Yoongi scoffs, shaking his head. 
"The wood is too wet, pick up the twigs off the ground next time." 
You huff out air, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way and scoffs. 
"What?" 
"You're belittling me." 
"I wouldn’t dare", he murmurs sarcastically and straightens up, "there we go, the fire should burn despite the wrong twigs. Come let's skin the rabbits." 
"What? Skin?" 
"Yes?" he quirks up his left brow, "unless you want to eat them with their fur." 
"No, n-no of course not I am just", you laugh nervously. 
"Have you never skinned a rabbit before?" 
"Of course not. Why should I have? I'm the princess." 
"Well", he clicks his tongue, "you're going to learn tonight”, he says dryly and throws one of the dead rabbits on your lap.
You gagged as you did it. You gagged and almost threw up. So Yoongi ended up doing the rest of your rabbit, giving you the task of fetching water from the river. You didn’t miss the judgment in his voice as he spoke.
You managed to fetch water, that task was easy enough for you. Oh you felt like such a useless idiot.
Yoongi in the meantime had stuck the rabbits into the flames to cook. He is staring into the fire when you enter the shed, lips pressed into a thin line and brows furrowed. 
He raises his head at the sound of the door closing. 
"You're back." 
"Yes I am and I got water."
Yoongi scoffs in amusement, looking back into the flames. You claim your previous spot next to Yoongi, placing the bucket of water between you and him. 
Yoongi fetches water, presenting it to you.
"Drink Your Highness." 
"Thank you", you accept it. 
The water is cold and tastes clean. After the torture you have been through you will always cherish this sensation. 
You prepare a bowl for Yoongi once you finish yours. 
"You need to drink too, Sire." 
Yoongi looks at the bowl then into your eyes.
"Thank you", he accepts it and drinks.
You look into the flames, watching the rabbits slowly turn brown. Yoongi cleans his hands in the remaining water, drying them on his ruined nightgown which he had crumbled up beside him.
"Do you think that we can return home one day?" you ask. 
"Yes, I truly hope you can." 
"And you?" you ask, turning your head to him. 
"I'll make sure that you will." 
"God, you are truly dedicated to your duties aren’t you?" 
"Yes, Your Highness, they are important to me."
"Is that why you accepted everything I did to you?" 
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way. 
"Yes." 
You sigh. 
"I truly feel terrible for my past, I never should have hurt you. You truly didn’t deserve it." 
Yoongi stays silent, fumbling with his fingers nervously. 
"You know", you look at his face, "I never actually thought you ugly. I just said it because everyone else said it" you pause, studying his face, "I apologize, you aren’t ugly." 
Yoongi blinks rapidly, lowering his head before turning away. He laughs quietly, almost in disbelief even, shaking his head and scratching the side of his neck.
"Where did you get the scar on your face from?"
He falters, sneaking a glance your way. You seem honest in your interest.
"From my days on the streets", he says quietly, "I don't want to talk about it."
"Forgive me for asking." 
He dismisses with a quick shake of his head. 
"Is that where you got all the other scars from too?" 
Yoongi touches his torso, "some of them. Many I got from protecting the Queen." 
You inhale shakily. 
"Fuck", he presses out and lowers his head, "I should have been with her. If I ran faster I could have saved her.  It's my fault that she is dead." 
"No Sire, no. It's not your fault. It was Morrok's people who killed her. You did your best. And if mother was here right now she would tell you that you are truly her strongest warrior." 
Yoongi lets out a trembling breath and squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t cry, not in front of you.
"And also thank you for deciding to save me and for keeping me safe", you say.
“Mhm”, he hums and nods his head. He is squeezing his own fingers so much that his knuckles are turning white.
"Can I be blunt with you?" 
"Yes."
"I'm a pitiful woman." 
Yoongi looks at you in confusion. 
"I never killed something before, all the trophies on the walls are that of my friends. I just pretended that they were mine.”
You laugh painfully, “and without you I would already be dead, I have no idea of the workings of the world." 
Yoongi scoffs, "yeah I noticed”, he murmurs, earning himself a glare from you. 
"Fine I'll take that blow”, you murmur and pout.
Yoongi chuckles deeply, shaking his head. 
"And yet", your smile falls, "I can't help but feel guilty. My mother insisted I study the spells of our ancestors and yet I never paid attention in her lessons." 
You throw a small piece of wood into the fire. 
"She taught me many spells, powerful spells which could have prevented all of this. And yet I never even tried to remember them. If I had then –" you ball your hands into fists, "– if I had then perhaps we could have fled weeks ago and you would have never had to suffer."
Yoongi studies you. Regret. He thought that he would never see such an emotion on your face. 
"I'm such a pitiful woman." 
"No you’re not." 
You turn. 
"You’re not pitiful just…spoiled.“
He makes you laugh, truly and honestly laugh. It confuses Yoongi, who had never seen you so happy before.
“Oh Sire”, you say and chuckle, “you know? There was a time when I couldn’t stand your bluntness, but I must say you are truly a cheer to talk to.”
You give him a smile. Yoongi looks at your lips and knits his brows, looking away for your reaction is utterly confusing him.
“I want to be different from now on. I want to study the spells of our ancestors and I want to use them to restore our home and to heal and nurture and be good”, you say and smile, “and I want you to teach me the arts of fighting.”
Your eyes meet. Yoongi seems flabbergasted.
“Can you do that for me Sire?”
He blinks rapidly, “yes Your Highness I-“, he clears his throat, “-of course I can teach you.”
You give him another smile, it makes him look away in confusion again.
“Thank you, Sire.”
He picks up a piece of wood and throws it into the flames.
“Call me Yoongi, Your Highness.”
“Fine, if you call me by my name as well.”
“I – “, he sneaks a glance your way.
He stands up all of a sudden.
“Where are you going?” you ask him.
“I’m getting new water”, he murmurs and storms out of the shed with the bucket in his hands.
“Why did he seem so flustered?” you whisper under your breath.
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Yoongi returns when the rabbits have long finished cooking. You waited with eating, lifting your head once he finally returns.
“Finally you are back, the rabbits have finished cooking”, you tell him.
“Mhm”, he hums, setting the filled water bucket down between you and him.
He sits down with his legs crossed, picking up his rabbit. He begins eating it in silence, staring into the flames.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“No”, he says.
You chuckle, “fine, let’s eat in silence.”
Once you finished your meals and discarded the bones in the flames, Yoongi takes his nightgown and rolls it up. He lies down on his back close to the fire, resting his hands on his stomach. He keeps his eyes open, staring at the roof with his lips pressed into a thin line.
You do the same. Roll up your nightgown and lie down on the ground. You chose the spot between the fire and Yoongi, resting on your side to look at him.
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way.
“What?” he asks nervously.
“Nothing, you just have rabbit on your cheek”, you say and reach out to clean it off the corner of his lips.
He furrows his brows and moves his head away. He feels so peculiar in his chest. Your fingers aren’t supposed to be able to touch him so tenderly.
“Sleep Your Highness”, he presses out, closing his eyes.
“Are we going to walk again tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
You shiver, pulling the fur over your shoulders.
“I miss our home”, you say, making Yoongi clench his jaw.
“I know.”
“I can’t stand the cold, it hurts.”
“Neither can I”, Yoongi answers you and tries to close his tunic as best as possible.
“Do you think that we will still have to walk for long?”
“Yes, the sun sets eight hours after rising. We are further north than I had thought.”
“How long does the sun take to set at home?”
Yoongi scoffs and laughs quietly, “you are asking me questions.”
“Well, do you know the answer?”
“Fifteen.”
“Well that explains why it is always so warm”, you murmur, reaching out to touch his arm.
He tenses up under your touch.
“Can we hold each other again for warmth?” you ask quietly and watch his chest rise and sink in a deep breath.
“If you insist.”
You hum then scoot closer to drape your arm across his stomach. You grunt and wiggle, trying to find a comfortable resting place for your head. Yoongi sighs in defeat.
“Raise your head.”
You follow. Yoongi places his arm under your head, closing it around you to press you closer.
Now you are resting on his shoulder, lips inches away from his neck and heart racing in your chest.
“Sleep well”, he whispers and closes his eyes.
“You too”, you breathe, letting your eyes flutter closed. 
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Birds are chirping and in the distance the river gurgles. The air smells clean, carrying a faint hint of the fading embers of the once bright fire of last night. It is bright behind your eyelids, making the otherwise blackness seem glowing red. You are alone on the ground for your arms are holding nothing and your stomach is terribly cold.
Then you finally open your eyes, rolling onto your back with a soft sigh.
“Oh I truly miss my bed”, you groan, stretching your torso in an attempt to get rid of the ache in your lower back.
You sit up.
Yoongi isn’t here, as a matter of fact, he even left the shed door open.
“Oh dear, hopefully he didn’t run off without me.”
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He didn’t run off. He is sitting by the riverbed, legs crossed and with the sunlight warming his limbs. He was currently trying to tie his hair out of his face, seemingly struggling with it.
“Good morning Sire”, you announce yourself.
He looks over his shoulder, “good morning Your Highness”, he murmurs and returns to his task of doing his hair.
"Let me help", you offer. 
He shakes his head. 
You sit next to him, crossing your legs. Then you turn your head to watch him. He is trying again, lips curled into a concentrated pout and long fingers struggling with picking up his hair.
"I slept well tonight", you say. 
"Good, you need the strength", he answers you, grunting when his hair falls out of his fingers once again. 
"I also really enjoyed rabbit. I must say it is wonderful to eat again." 
"I think so too”, his hair falls again, “oh heavens! Will you stay!?"
You laugh, earning yourself an annoyed glare from him. He looks ridiculous with half his hair in a slanted bun and the other half hanging into his face. 
"Please just let me help, I can’t have you walking around looking as if you fought a Morgul by yourself", you say in a chuckle, closing the distance between you and him. 
"Do you even know how to do that?" he asks. 
"Yes of course I do. I am the eldest sister. Do you have any idea how often my siblings come into my room to ask for their hair to be tied? So let me help." 
He grinds his teeth and huffs out air. He hands you the piece of fabric in defeat. 
"I spent too many days braiding and brushing and tying up hair that I could work as a hairdresser if I wanted to." 
Yoongi chuckles quietly. It makes you smile as well.
You first open his attempt at a bun. You shake out his hair, thinking to yourself that it looks like strings of gold in the morning sun. 
Yoongi is twisting the fabric of his pants. The touch makes him shiver. It isn’t his place to shiver. 
"Now, the secret to a good bun is a good comb, but we can’t ask for luxury here", you say and begin combing your fingers through his hair, "my fingers will have to suffice." 
You pick up the strands of hair which are still hanging into his face. Yoongi is fighting against the urge to close his eyes for your fingertips felt like heaven as they danced across his forehead. 
“Perfect. Now I have all of your hair in a tight hold”, you say, “now our traditional ways would ask for a pin to twist your hair around, however we don’t – “
Yoongi raises a stick, “could that work?”
You chuckle, “I can work with that. Oh Yoongi, this is going to be a peculiar hairstyle”, you say, twisting his long hair around the stick in the traditional ways of your people.
Yoongi grinds his teeth, eyelids fluttering. The twist makes his scalp tingle. He shouldn’t feel such reactions.
“Now, let’s see if the stick can hold your hair”, you say and let go, “it does! How wonderful!” you exclaim.
You place your hands on his shoulders, digging your thumbs into his tense shoulders.
Yoongi forces down a sigh, fighting against the urge to roll his shoulders into your touch.
“We are done”, you let him know, stroking your hands down his arms. His muscles follow your touch, tensing and relaxing. You watch the vein in his neck twitch as his heart skips a beat. Your lips tingle in funny ways, almost as if they wanted to feel the twitch.
You touch his elbows, squeezing them softly.
“You look alluring with your hair like this”, you whisper.
Yoongi’s head snaps around, his eyes round and widened and his lips parted in shock. You look at them for only a second before nervousness makes your heart flutter unbearably.
“Ha”, you laugh breathily, pulling your hands away, “please forgive me.”
Your gazes meet in a second of braveness before breaking again.
“Ha”, he lets out, lowering his head, “we should keep moving, we can’t afford staying at a place too long. It’ll alarm people.”
“Of course, we should move”, you murmur, staring at your fingers in disbelief. You touched him.
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You walk a lot this day, following the river until crossing it over a wooden bridge and following the sun instead. You were further up north than Yoongi had initially thought so he told you. That was the only conversation you and him had on your long journey for your mind was racing with something else instead, repeating the imagery of his golden hair between your fingers over and over again.
You touched him this morning and told him that he looked beautiful. You feel as if you were losing your mind, for whenever you looked at him all you wanted to do was stare at him a little longer. Perhaps you spent too much time with him as your only companion. Perhaps you were losing your mind and all the time spent with him made your brain develop a magical attraction to him.
Yoongi disappeared inside a cave ten minutes ago, leaving with a quiet “I will make sure it is safe, stay here Your Highness”.
You were waiting outside for a while, shivering in the cold and watching the winds swirl over the lands. Then you saw a squirrel, red bushy fur and big round eyes. It was breaking some nuts on the rocks just a few steps from you. You decided to follow it down the path you and Yoongi had walked up before. The knife is clasped tightly between your fingers, the tip of your tongue is sticking out the corner of your mouth in concentration. The squirrel is going to be yours tonight, you will show Yoongi just how well you can hunt too. You are so concentrated on hunting that Yoongi’s worried voice is like a whisper in your ear.
Just a few more steps and dinner will be yours.
“Your Highness!”
You give him no reaction, tiptoeing closer and closer to the stone the squirrel is currently sitting on.
“Don’t go there!”
Almost there. It can’t escape now.
“Princess!”
Yoongi tugs you back roughly, eliciting a surprised squeak from you. The squirrel jumps away.
“No!” you exclaim, whipping around, “you scared it away.”
“And you are inches away from dropping to your death”, he throws back.
Only now you notice just how tightly he is holding you and the beginning of the steep cliff under the tips of your toes. You shiver, taking a step back.
“How did I not notice that?” you gasp.
“I’m asking myself that too. Let’s go, the cave is safe for the night.”
He tugs at your arm, stomping up the path with his brows furrowed.
“You must think I am a complete fool”, you say, stumbling after him.
He sends you a look over his shoulder. You trip, stumble, catch yourself with the help of Yoongi.
“I was catching dinner.”
“Tzt”, he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You have to stop belittling me. I did your hair this morning”, you complain loudly, slipping on a rock.
Yoongi whips around and tugs you back up. His eyes are burning in anger. You ignore it, straightening your back as if nothing ever happened.
“So I am better than you at something too. Without me your hair would still look like a mess”, you say, reaching up to poke your finger into his bun.
Yoongi blinks rapidly and moves his head away.
“Stop doing that”, he says.
“Doing what?”
“Touch me like that.”
Your eyes flit to his lips. Yoongi can watch it happen, wetting his lips in response.
“Ha”, you let out, eyes flitting to the side, “I don’t know what you mean.”
He scoffs and turns his back to you.
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The fire is burning an hour later, warming your frozen limbs and illuminating the little cave. Yoongi caught two elkbirds. They are big birds with purple feathers and an orange peak. They looked beautiful. Their screams however sounded like songs of Morguls, bone shattering and it can make even the bravest warrior tremble in fear. Their flesh also tasted surprisingly similar to chicken, however one always says that about foreign meat so it was to one to decide how much truth they want to see in such a statement. It nourished your starved body however and that was all that was of importance to you tonight.
You stretch out your arms, holding your hands above the flames. 
“Oh how I have grown to love the presence of fires”, you say.
Yoongi nods his head, wrapping his fur around his torso tighter.
You chuckle, “I never thought that I would hear myself say something like that”, you laugh, “or that I would eat a elkbird for that matter.”
“Mhm.”
You stretch out your legs, wiggling your toes to warm even the most hidden parts of your feet. You can hear the storm outside. It was singing, howling in the valley below and carrying the snow of the high mountain peaks with it. You know that it is because you can watch it cover the ground outside your cave. It was significantly warmer in the cave, yet nothing can truly beat the comfort of your castle walls when the fireplaces were crackling calmingly and your body was submerged in a nice smelling bath. 
"Do you know what I'm going to do first once I'm home again?" 
"No."
"I'm going to take a long and hot bath. And I want it to smell like vanilla. And I want to eat Harken Cake and drink warm apple juice while I bathe", you say and sigh in blissful memory. 
"Mhm, that sounds nice", Yoongi agrees. 
"What are you going to do first?" 
"Make sure the castle is safe." 
"No not - gosh Sire I meant after our duties are done", you say and chuckle, "what are you going to do once everything is safe again?" 
Yoongi sneaks a glance your way and shrugs his shoulders.
"Come now, you must have something you want to do." 
"Sleep. I want to sleep in the comfort of my bed again with five blankets and a soft pillow under my head", he answers you and shifts restlessly, "and maybe I want to eat Harken Cake too and drink warm apple juice."
"Mhm that sounds nice. Oh Sire, I truly miss home." 
"I know Your Highness. Me too."
You turn so your back would be facing the fire. You shiver at first, feeling goosebumps run along your spine and arms. The change in temperature feels so nice on your skin. You can look at Yoongi in this position. His naked feet are buried in the fur you placed on the ground, his hands are folded, rubbing each other for warmth and his head is lowered slightly, eyes half-lidded as well. A single strand of hair had fallen out his bun, hanging into his face. It ends right where his eyebrow arches the highest.
“Do think that Morrok’s men are looking for us?” you ask him.
“I can’t say, perhaps. We killed two of their men and you’re the princess. They lost precious merchandise.”
“They are not going to find us, are they?”
He shakes his head.
You study his face. The flames cast dark shadows on his features, illuminating the rest in warmth.
“You truly aren’t a man of many words are you?”
“No.”
"Why?" 
"I don't have much to say or tell." 
"Oh come now Sire, now you are being mean to yourself. I'm sure you have many stories to tell." 
Yoongi raises his head, looking into your eyes with a sort of bafflement. He squeezes his own hands and lets out a breathy scoff, turning his head away. 
"Tell me something, Sire." 
He exhales through his nose and shakes his head. 
"Come, anything you want to tell." 
He sneaks a glance at you, bouncing his knee up and down twice. 
"I enjoy music", he says quietly, clenching his jaw in embarrassment afterwards.
"Music? Oh that’s nice. I enjoy it too. Do you have a favourite kind of music?" 
"No. I don’t know…" he looks at you again for only a second then he looks away, "…I like songs which tell a story." 
"So the ones with poems in their singing?" 
He nods his head, "or with...emotion in their melodies." 
You find yourself smiling. That is something you truly hadn’t expected from him, yet it feels so perfectly fitting for him now that you know. 
"That's lovely, Sire. I shall hold a festival of song and dance then once we are home."
He furrows his brows in confusion.
"It will be my tribute to you. For keeping me safe and also for being such good company in those endless weeks." 
He flusters, shifting on the spot and touching the side of his neck. You know that he is not going to answer you. He seems too overwhelmed for that. So you turn to warm your stomach and face, closing your eyes in contentment. 
“Are you good at keeping secrets, Sire?”
He hesitates at first. You look at him over your shoulder. 
“Yes", he finally says.
“Well then I want to tell you something because I trust you.”
Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
“I didn’t hurt you because you helped my traitorous husband, I hurt you because I was jealous of you.”
He laughs dryly. You turn and send him a glare.
“Don’t laugh, I am telling the truth.”
He stops laughing, looking at you with his face contorted in bafflement.
“Why would you be jealous of me?”
“Because my husband didn’t like what I have between my legs, but instead he liked what you have.”
Yoongi furrows his brows in confusion. You sigh loudly and turn back to the flames.
“I was never intimate with him because he couldn’t harden no matter how hard I tried. Later, I found him hiding behind the door to watch you train. He was touching himself.”
Yoongi widens his eyes and parts his lips.
“I hated you for it and I also felt ashamed”, you lower your eyes, “so I told everybody that I hurt you because you helped my husband that one time. When in reality I hurt you because I wanted revenge because you had what I couldn’t have.”
You sigh and laugh painfully.
“Perhaps that is also another reason why I called you ugly. I felt less ugly myself when I did it.”
Yoongi scoffs and lowers his head.
“Now tell me Sire, how often did you please him?”
“What?” he stares at you in shock.
You turn. There was no anger on your face, no jealousy or distaste. Just honest interest and perhaps childish hopefulness.
“You can be honest with me. Was it every night?”
Yoongi laughs dryly. He looks to the side, outlining the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
“I never pleased him, the only times I interacted with him was when I helped him up and later when I killed him.”
You let out a breath of relief and laugh.
“That feels good to hear. At least my marriage wasn’t as broken as I thought it was.”
Yoongi furrows his brows and grinds his teeth. He watches you throw a little rock into the flames and lower your eyes in sadness afterwards. Perhaps it was the long time he spent with you, but he didn’t like seeing you sad. Not anymore at least. He wants to see you smile. Perhaps he truly was losing his mind.
So he scoots closer to you, so close in fact that the fabrics of your clothes were touching. He drapes his fur across your shoulders, making you lean into him.  
“It wasn’t your fault”, he says.
You turn to look at him. He seems so tall in this position. You resting on the ground between his legs and him sitting on a log. You didn’t mind that he towered over you for the comfort in his gaze gave you the feeling that you and him were equal. 
“It wasn’t your fault that your husband liked the other kind of private parts. And it doesn’t mean that you are ugly.”
You blink rapidly and chuckle nervously. You turn away, staring into the flames with your heart racing in your chest. 
"Do you think I’m beautiful?" you ask him quietly, waiting for his answer with bated breath. 
Yoongi inhales through his nose and exhales loudly. 
"Yes", he whispers so quietly you almost missed it.
You turn, gazing up at him with sparkling eyes. He glances at you, looking up at the ceiling a moment later.
“You are going to fluster me”, you confess in a whisper.
He exhales in a nervous laugh and lowers his head. You study his features, finding magic in the way his nose curved. You draw closer until your arm touched his leg and he tenses up in nervousness.
“Are you like my husband too?” you ask him.
He shakes his head.
“But I never saw you with a woman. Most of my warriors found love with my servants. Why didn’t you?”
“Because they are fools. Love will blind one to one’s duties. If fewer of my men had their minds twisted by a woman then we could have protected the castle, but instead of following their duties they ran to rescue their lovers.”
“And you blame it on the magic of women instead of the human nature of wanting to protect the ones we love? Weren’t you also running to protect my mother?”
“Yes but I…” he falters, “…I did that because it was my duty.”
“Did you love my mother?”
He shakes his head, “not like my men loved their women.”
“But you loved her in a different way.”
“She saved me from death, I owed her.”
“Like a son owes his mother his life?”
“Perhaps.”
You sigh.
“My mother was a great woman. Truly, her death carved a big hole into my chest.”
“It plaques me too”, he confesses in a whisper.
You rest your head against his knee, making him tense up even more. Perhaps it was the dim light of the fire, perhaps it was the privacy of the cave or perhaps it was your body’s desire to feel another’s skin, but you placed your hand on his other knee and danced your thumb over it softly.
“Do you sometimes wish to love like a man loves a woman?”
“Your Highness”, he begins and sighs, “you shouldn’t ask me that question”, he says, moving his knee away.
You sit up, resting on your knees. You are facing him completely, making him visibly scoot back.
“Why not?”
“You don’t want this”, he says and points at his face, “it doesn’t belong side by side with a princess.”
“What makes you think that I was asking this question in my own interest?” you ask, slightly flustered.
Yoongi looks into your eyes, bewildered as well.
“Why did you touch me then?”
“I truly don’t know. Perhaps I lost my mind.”
“Perhaps you did.”
You laugh breathlessly. Yoongi’s eyes race between yours, flitting to your lips ever so often.
He tenses up when you touch his knee again, freezing up more when you straighten up until you are face to face with him.
“Perhaps”, you begin, allowing your hand to slip to the beginning of his inner thigh, “perhaps I truly lost my mind. I think I like you, Sire.”
He lets out a loud laugh, moving his leg away.
“You confuse me”, he presses out.
“Yes!” you exclaim and nod your head, “I confuse myself for I swore to never like you and yet here I am, enjoying your presence and seeking your closeness.”
Yoongi’s eyes race between yours.
“And I understand now why my husband liked you”, you say and laugh, “you see Sire? I am losing my mind.”
Yoongi turns his head away, fumbling with his fingers.
“Your husband was a fool.”
“Yes, he was”, you agree, leaning closer to brush your lips over his neck.
Yoongi raises his shoulder to his ear and flinches away. Your gazes meet in shock.
“Your Highness, did you drink?”
You shake your head, “how?”
“Then stop that. All this walking is making you delusional, you won’t want this once we are home again.”
You lean closer and place a kiss on his scar, right on top of his cheek. You pull back, holding your breath. And while you were holding your breath, Yoongi releases it shakily, eyes looking everywhere but your face.
You kiss it again and again and again until you kissed it from its beginning on Yoongi’s forehead all the way over his eyelid and down to its end on his cheek. 
You pull back after stubbing it with the tip of your nose. Your fingers are hooked behind his neck, your eyes race between his. You have never felt your heart race that much before
“Stop that", he chokes out, closing his fingers around your wrists to pull your hands away. 
You fight his hold, reaching for his face again. He moves away, pulling your hands from his face. 
"Why are you doing this?" he asks, eyes filled with nervous anger.
You kiss the corner of his lips, resting your fingers on his cheeks. He turns his head in your direction for a quick second, gazing at your lips with his eyes half-lidded. Another kiss. It flusters him, making him turn away again.
“Truly, you don’t want this. I'm not a good lover, my hands are rough from fighting and my f-face and body are covered in scars. I'm too ugly for you."
"No you’re not Sire."
"Ha", he lowers his eyes, "yes I am. The court would agree." 
"They’re fools."
"No. You –“
You silence him with a kiss, short and hesitant. He pulls away in an instance, laughing nervously. You give him a smile and draw closer, cupping his cheek and pulling his waist snuck against yours with a strong arm. 
"Ha", he lets out, squirming in your hold and looking at where your body touches his.
You lower your head, claiming his lips in a kiss again. It forces him to lift his head and to close his eyes for you were not intending to stop. You kiss him and kiss him and kiss him some more, sucking on his lower lip until he can’t help but sigh and touch your face. He cups your cheeks with such tenderness that one could believe he was scared to break you. His shoulders are raised to his ears, his legs restless as he squirms in your hold. And still his lips danced with yours, using your sighs and the crackling of the fire as their melodies.
Perhaps you truly had lost your mind for when he tried to pull away you chased him and kissed him deeper until the tip of your tongue was outlining his lips.
Perhaps you truly had lost your mind for when his lips parted and his tongue met yours in the middle, a sound of pleasure slipped past your lips and your fingers reached up to open his hair.
It falls in soft waves, framing his face and twisting between your fingers as you run them through his locks. He shudders at the sensation.
Perhaps you truly lost your mind for when he did the same to you and opened your hair to hold it between his fingers, it drove you on top of his lap until your stomach was pressed against his and you felt his chest trembling in a deep sigh.
Perhaps however you didn’t lose your mind and experiencing the feeling of finally being kissed back made you so addicted to the sensation that you became greedy. And perhaps it made you just that greedier because it was Yoongi you were kissing and he truly had the best lips to kiss.
Yoongi runs his fingers down your spine, dancing them up your back in soft swirls. He cups your face, fingers resting on the sides of your neck. They felt warm on your skin, carrying a sheer layer of sweat on the tips. You know that he was nervous. You were nervous too, you noticed it in the way your fingertips trembled as you ran them along his collarbones and shoulders.
You don’t like Yoongi. You told that to all your friends, your family and you were sure your servants knew as well. You thought it to be true and that it would always stay true, but now as if magic changed your heart you like him. It was scaring you so much that your stomach twisted when he showed the first indicator of enjoyment in the form of a trembling mewl against your lips. Perhaps however your stomach also twisted because you never heard such a sound before and it made you feel warm between your legs.
You break the kiss, resting your forehead against that of Yoongi. You keep your eyes closed, so does Yoongi. His shaking breath is tickling your cheek, intermingling with yours. You touch his cheek, running your thumb over his scar softly. It makes him sigh and his fingers twitch in a gentle grasp.
“I feel there is no going back from here”, you whisper.
“No, there isn’t”, he answers you, tilting his head up to run his lips along your cheek until you turn to claim them in a kiss instead.
He trembles in surprise, pressing his legs together. The movement makes you scoot up his lap and press your core against his crotch.
You and him break the kiss at the same time, both gasping in shock because of what you found.
“Is that how this feels?” you ask, sneaking a glance down his body.
“So it seems”, he murmurs, hiding it behind his big hand.
“Why are you hiding it?”
Your eyes meet.
“Because you are married and my princess.”
You shake your head, “I’m not married anymore, you made sure that I was free of that burden.”
You touch his chest.
“It is so exciting to be the reason a man hardens”, you confess and run your hands down his stomach, “can you show it to me?" 
He hesitates. 
"Please?" 
With a nervous sigh slipping past his lips he removes his hand, revealing the prominent dent in his pants to your eyes. 
"That looks so exciting", you whisper, rolling your hips over his thigh at the view, "ah, it makes me feel so warm between my legs." 
Yoongi swallows heavily, "I-I can feel that." 
You look up, cupping his face between your hands.
"Can you show me how it feels to be intimate, Sire?” 
Yoongi blinks rapidly. He shakes his head, “I, I don’t know anything about that.”
“Oh?” you blink vigorously.
He lowers his eyes.
“Well, then do you want to find out about it together?”
Yoongi falters in his answer. You speed up his decision by placing your pointer finger on the swell in his pants and stroking it softly. He bites down on his lower lip, inhaling loudly through his nose and furrowing his brows.
“Your Highness, we’re not of the same rank”, he chokes out, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. His hand is fighting your touch and yet at the same time it is pulling you closer. He has duties to fulfil and yet deep down his desire to follow them was lost the moment you kissed his neck.
“I don’t care, that is the great thing about being the princess, I can choose who I want to court.”
“And you choose me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you, Sire.”
Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He releases it in a surprised grunt as he feels your lips against his neck all of a sudden. You are holding his hair away, playing with it mindlessly as your lips continue their endless dance. You can feel his vein twitch as his heart skips a beat and for the first time tonight you are making a sound as well. It feels more exciting than you had imagined it to feel.
"Please Sire, I want to experience it with you", you plead, cupping his hardened length and rubbing it slowly. 
He grunts and trembles, big hands landing on your hips. He stands up with you then, carrying you to the fire to place you on top of the fur. You look at him. His golden hair is hanging into his face, falling on each side of your head and shielding you from everything except his features.
You reach up and trace his scar again. He closes his eyes and parts his lips in a shaky exhale.
Yoongi remembers many occasions where you touched his scar and yet he never felt such comfort from it as he does tonight. There was no disgust in your touch, no anger or coldness. Just tenderness and a certain awe, which left his chest feeling light. It also made it tingle as if fire fairies were fluttering inside of it.
He leans down and places a kiss on your neck in the same way you kissed his’. You shiver, picking up a big bundle of his hair. It tickles your skin, following Yoongi’s movements as he kisses along your neck to reach the other side.
You sigh his name and close your eyes, parting your legs for your middle burned unbearably. It allows his body to draw closer and for his hips to rest against yours. You can feel how hard he was, it rubs against your core and soaks your pants in your wetness. 
Kissing your neck comes so natural to him. He never did what his fellow soldiers did with their women. He didn’t even read about it, let alone talk about it to other people and yet in this moment he felt that kissing your neck was the only right thing to do. Not only for you, but also for him. Oh how many times he fantasized about wrapping his fingers around your neck and squeezing until you finally drew your last breath. Oh how many times he wished for you to slip on the stairs and break it in your fall. Those desires sound like those of a cruel madman in his mind now. He doesn’t want to destroy such a delicate neck anymore, not when he can worship it in kisses instead.
“Oh”, you let out and try to breathe only to end up choking on your air and having to laugh.
Yoongi lifts his head, looking at you in confusion.
“You made me choke on my own air”, you confess and laugh, “oh this feels so good. Do it again."
Yoongi licks over his lips and lowers himself again. He may know nothing about the intimacies between man and woman, but he knows that kissing your neck made you shiver beneath him. He knows that this was a good sign and so he continues what he is good at in fear that if he did something new you wouldn’t enjoy it.
You abandon his hair to touch his arms instead. They are tense in the position, holding up his body with little struggle. You run them along the ridges of his muscles until you abandon them for the sake of feeling his torso instead. First his neck, you run your fingers along the soft curve of where his neck meets his shoulders then dance them to the nape of it to play with the fine hair on it. For only a second you allowed your fingers to linger then it was already time for them to explore a new inch of his body. The movement made the strings of his tunic open at the front, revealing his heated chest to your fingertips.
He squirms above you, losing his way and kissing your collarbones instead of your neck. You sigh, slipping your hand into his tunic to caress his pecs. They were sculpted from the heavy fighting he had to do in his years as your warrior for the Glass Mountains with its Ruby Valleys and Emerald Lakes were always a conflict ridden country. It became worse with the arrival of Morrok the madman and Yoongi and his warriors spent many months away from the castle, ridding the land of his followers and keeping the peace for as best as possible.
You hope – as you run your fingers along every single scar – that you have enough magic in your fingertips to heal the memories they bear with them. After weeks and weeks of hunger, thirst and frozen limbs you know exactly the pains and discomforts he must have endured on his journeys.
You brush your fingers over his nipple, making him snap up in a shudder of his body and a shaky gasp. His eyes are widened, blinking rapidly. Your fingers rest frozen on his chest, allowing your warmth to soak even the deepest parts of his body.
“What?” you ask him.
“What did you just do?”
You repeat what you had done, watching how it makes his lips part in a silent moan. They close again a second later, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet them. Oh how rosy his lips are and how pretty they glisten in the shine of the fire.
You do it again. Feeling his nipple pebble and his chest rumble in a barely there moan. He exhales shakily, corners of his mouth curling upwards.
“What?” you stress, “why are you reacting like that?”
Yoongi moves without words. He opens the strings of your tunic and slips his hand inside. Your eyes widen. On the ceiling of the cave the flames make sceneries of dancing shadows appear and yet all you can truly take in is Yoongi slipping the tunic to the side, cupping your breast and then wrapping his lips around your nipple.
“Sire!” you gasp, fighting for air with your lips opening and closing repeatedly.
Such warmth. It seeps into your skin until it reaches your heart. You tremble as Yoongi flicks his tongue over your swollen pebble just this moment. You laugh and tug on his hair. He releases you with a quiet bop of his lips, flitting his eyes up in a silent question as to why you stopped him.
The truth was that the sensation scared you. It felt too good and you feared that if he continued you would lose control over your body.
“Did I go too far?” he asks with his voice slightly raspy in arousal.
You nod your head, “I fear that if you continue I might lose control over my body. I heard that it will subside again once you reach your high, but what if I am different and I will never be normal again?”
Yoongi scoffs, flustering you.
“Why are you laughing? What if you will never be normal either?”
“I stopped being normal the moment you kissed my neck, Your Highness, I’m not scared of losing myself.”
You lower your eyes, “now you are making me seem like such a coward.”
He chuckles softly, lowering his head to your chest. He darts his tongue out and flicks it over your nipple.
“Oh”, you gasp, widening your eyes for only a second before closing them. One more flick of his tongue and you let go of his hair to hold his shoulders instead. Perhaps you need to be braver. You survived being beaten and tied up in the cold, you survived having to walk for days without water or food let alone sleep. You will survive the unbearable heat of Yoongi’s touch as well, including all the consequences it bears.
Yoongi kisses the skin next to your nipple then follows the path his pointer finger paints until he is on your neck again. You shiver, hugging him closer so you could feel his naked chest press against your exposed breasts. You didn’t even know that another person’s skin can feel so good against your own.
“Yoongi”, you sigh.
“Yes, Your Highness?” Yoongi whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“I want to know how it feels to be breached.”
“Are you sure Your Highness?”
“Yes. Do you want to give me your innocence too?”
He looks into your eyes and then something happens to his face you thought would never happen to his face. The ivory of his cheeks turns the softest red. It spreads all across his nose as well.
“Yes, Your Highness”, he confesses, making your heart skip a beat in your chest.
So you and him undress messily, hiding under the fur not only to keep the cold out but also because it was too scary to share your state of complete nudity with each other.
Yoongi claims the spot between your legs, breathing heavily for his heart was almost giving up on him in excitement. While he never read about the intimacies between a man and a woman let alone talked to somebody about it, his mind still spent many hours imagining how it must feel like. And while a few weeks ago he never imagined to experience it with his princess, that image had changed ever since he snuck one fateful glance at your bared body as you bathed in the river.
Your eyes meet in a hesitant gaze.
“Are you just as excited as I am?” you ask him.
He nods his head.
“It will feel really good, don’t you think?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Come closer and breach me, Sire”, you stress, grasping his hips and rolling your own up to meet his middle.
He shivers at the sensation, bucking his hips forwards.
“Oh!”
He stops, eyes widening in surprise. He slipped inside, only an inch, yet it is enough to make his back tense and his legs shake.
“More”, you sigh, forcing him deeper by wrapping your legs around him.
Yoongi grunts and buries his face in the crook of your neck. This is better than he imagined it to feel. This is so much better.
“It burns a little. Does it burn for you too?” you ask him slightly out of breath.
He shakes his head.
“How peculiar, it feels so peculiar.”
Yoongi is fighting with his air. He truly didn’t think it would feel so good.
“Try to move”, you order him.
He moves his hips back and forth, forcing a loud moan to slip past his lips. He falters and stops, face feeling as if it was on fire.
“I apologize”, he whispers.
Oh your stomach is clenching so much. You have never heard him make a sound before. Yoongi can take every beating and torture life throws at him without making a sound and yet when he is buried inside of you, lost in pleasure, he can’t stay quiet. It is so exhilarating to experience.
“No, don't apologize. Hearing your sound made me wetter. Do it again Sire”, you encourage him. You run your fingers to his bottom and squeeze it gently, “move inside of me and make a sound, it feels so good when you do.”
Yoongi rolls his hips into yours smoothly and moans. You arch your back and wrap your arms around him.
“Yes, oh that feels so good”, you sigh and reward him with a clench of your walls.
He continues his slow movements, pausing in between to catch his breath. His stomach is tensing in such peculiar ways and while it tempted him to keep moving to see where this tension would lead him, he was scared that if he did he would reach places where there is no coming back from. So he pauses in between to leave sloppy kisses on your neck and gain back control of his body.
“Yes that feels really good, oh Sire this is so nice”, you praise him in soft moans, running your fingers through his long hair. It tickles your shoulders and parts of your face and short strands of it were sticking to his forehead as it became terribly hot under the fur. And while you felt pearls of sweat run down your own chest, you still hugged him closer with your other arm, making him lower himself until your breasts were brushing against his chest.
The new closeness makes his lower stomach rub against your core. It sends the most peculiar yet magical sensation through your veins. Warmth. Such incredible warmth.
“Yoongi”, you gasp, curling your toes and pressing your heels into the back of his thighs.
“Yes, Your Highness?” he asks, panting heavily afterwards.
“This feels better than good”, you confess and squeak softly. Your fingers twitch on his back until your nails are digging into his skin.
He grunts and sucks on your neck desperately. He rolls his hips into you, feeling you grind against him. You are so wet around him and so warm too. And oh so tight, he didn’t know that he could be squeezed that much. 
You pull him closer, burying your fingers in his hair. Your lips are pressed against his shoulder, your legs shaking uncontrollably.
“Oh my s-stomach is tensing”, you pause to gasp for air, “Sire, Sire I’m close.”
“Me too Your Highness”, he answers you and moans against the shell of your ear. It sends shivers all the way down to your toes. The shivers lingered in your middle for a while, making you squeeze around him.
Yoongi grunts and reaches for your hand. He presses it into the fur and squeezes it tightly.
“Don’t tense that much”, he chokes out, grinding his teeth.
“I, I can’t help – “, a gasp for air, “– help it.”
You squeeze his hand, Yoongi answers you by squeezing it as well. So tightly in fact that you fear he might break something.
“Your Highness, please relax”, he begs desperately.
“I…can’t…it’s…so…good”, you sigh and let your mouth fall open. A moan ripples through you then you grow silent as the tension on your stomach breaks in a second, leaving you to tremble and burn like you had never done before.
Yoongi grunts painfully and falters, hiding his face in your shoulder. You are squeezing him too much, he is too sensitive.
“Your Highness”, he chokes out shakily, feeling his mind become blank and his vision turn black as his body releases all the tension in a series of uncontrollable spasms.
You take his release with your eyes rolled back and your eyelids fluttering, basking in the sensations. So that is how it feels like when a man desires your body so much that an orgasm shakes him. It feels so exhilarating that a single tear of bliss escapes the corner of your eye and runs down your cheek.
Yoongi whimpers and shakes one last time, forcing a trembling breath past his lips. The pressure on your hand stops as he finally relaxes, a pressure on your chest replaces it as he collapses on top of you.
You close your eyes and relax under the weight of his body. You feel so warm again. After weeks and weeks of painful cold, you finally feel truly warm again.
“This was magical”, you whisper.
“Yes”, he agrees and nuzzles his nose against your neck.
“You don’t regret it, do you?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Please Yoongi, call me by my name.”
Yoongi lifts his head. He cups your cheek.
“___, it feels strange to say out loud”, he whispers and smiles, showing you the shape of his teeth for the first time ever since you knew him.
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@bts-fan-obsessed @anonymous2505 @jikooksgirl19 @lilmeowmeowyoongles @fan-ati--c @trusfatedk00kie @cravingforhotchocolate @seagulljk @kthblackgf @greezenini @pb-n-juju @issysor @callmejimmeo @aidam391 @fancycollectormoon @siadreams @submissive-bangtan @pandxthings @thisartemisnevermisses@thequeen-kat @jenjensworld @yjmim @cantchooseanamebye @yoongicenterofmyuniverse @seraphqueen123​ @halesandy​ @illicitmuse​  @justatiredpotato​​ ​ @parkdiaries​
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minyfic · 4 months ago
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not around - MYG | M
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↣ Min Yoongi, one of your closest friends, the popular guy, funny and charming, captain of the basketball team, aspiring rapper and producer, incredibly handsome and your crush for a long time, ALSO your best friend’s (head cheerleader) new boyfriend. Trouble begins.
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pairing: basketball player!yoongi x cheerleader!reader
based on this request.
genre: angst, fluff, smut, f2l
word count: 19.8K (when I write Yoongi I can’t stop)
play: not around by nova
warnings/tags: college au, heavy angst, Yoongi is so sweet, kind and oblivious, strong language, insecurities about body image, Y/N overthinks, Y/N's best friend is mean but Y/N turns into a ~savage~, mentions of infidelity, mentions of bullying, Y/N and her mum lowkey gossip, Y/N has big 🍒, Yoongi has a breast kink, 171229 Yoongi oof, slight Hobi action, explicit smut- slight public action, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, oral (f & m), titty fuck, brief handjob, spitting, riding, hickeys, protected sex
a/n: pleaseee listen to that song when they’re playing basketball together (if you remember). I cry each time I listen to it, it reminds me of Yoongi somehow.
“BANGTAN! BANGTAN! BANGTAN!”
Waving your pom poms in the air, you watch Yoongi dash along the side of the court, with a flick of his wrist, the crowd goes wild.
Suhee begins to chant Yoongi’s name, you and the squad join in. Yoongi waves at the crowd then winks in your direction, maybe you could pretend, that it was directed at you but Suhee’s squeal pierces straight through that thought.
“Love you, babe!”
She shouts over the jubilant whoops of the crowd, then gestures for everyone to begin the routine for the last time tonight, you sway your hips along with everyone else. It isn’t a surprise that your college has made it to the semi-finals, thanks to their captain, Min Yoongi.
The crowd chants along, his shy gummy smile makes your heart soar as he continues to wave and thank the audience.
The ruckus dies down, the team and your squad walk back inside the building to shower. You brush past Suhee and Yoongi who start to make out as soon as you’re inside, it doesn’t bother you anymore, you’ve gotten used to it, but the pit of your stomach does twist a bit at the sight.
You grab your black jacket from the bench and put it on, the skimpy black and gold outfit exposing your body to the cool air from the AC above you, goosebumps prickling your skin. Walking down the hallway, you feel someone sling their arm around your shoulder, her sweet scent surrounding you.
“Coming to the party tonight? Hoseok will be there~,” she pinches your shoulder, but you shrug her off and stuff your hands in your jacket pocket.
“I’m not in the mood tonight, Suhee.”
“Ah come on, you’re always such a grump.”
You roll your eyes, “I’m not a grump, I just have my priorities straight. I need the sleep for Monday’s test.”
“You can get all the sleep you need on Sunday night. It’s a Friday! Don’t be so fucking boring!”
“Yeah, Y/N,” Yoongi sidles up to Suhee’s other side, she wraps her arms around his torso as he kisses her forehead, you avert your gaze to the shiny floors and tighten your grip on your bag, “come have fun.”
You clear your throat, “I have a test on Monday.”
“And you say you aren’t boring…” she nudges Yoongi with her elbow and you swallow the lump forming in your throat when they both snigger.
“I’ll come, but I didn’t pack an outfit.”
“That’s okay, I’d rather you wear this skirt than those horrible flair pants.”
“Hey,” you can feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, eyes flickering to Yoongi who stares straight ahead, “we have different tastes you know.”
She rolls her eyes, “you mean bad taste,” you open your mouth to protest but she cuts you off, “come to the party, you can be DD,” she gives Yoongi the most seductive wink she can manage, “Yoongi’s coming over tonight and we’re gonna have fun.”
You whip your head to stare at them, “you’re coming over after the party?”
“Ugh of course, Y/N,” Suhee runs her palm down Yoongi’s chest, “Yoongi needs his prize after he played so well tonight.”
Resisting the urge to gag, you walk a little faster away from them, “okay”
That could only mean one thing.
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You regret ever agreeing to come to this shitty party. You’re sat in a corner, you have no choice because Suhee continues to nudge and shove you with her body as she climbs on Yoongi like he’s some sort of jungle gym, while you hold your cup filled with juice, because that’s all they had other than alcohol and you’re DD, as per usual.
Suhee moans and you sit up from the couch abruptly, walking to the kitchen because that’s the only place you can actually go to, you’re sure to walk in on a couple going at it if you dare to enter one of the rooms in this house of sin.
As you stand at the table filled with drinks, you shut your eyes and try to drown out the noise.
How did you even end up here?
You’d have to start from the beginning to answer that question.
Ahn Suhee, your best friend since preschool. Your mothers were friends, so naturally, you would hang out and play together while they gossiped and complained about their lives. It was fun, you remember, you were like the PowerPuff Girls, except you had missed a member so your cat, MiMi, took the role of the Buttercup.
She was Blossom and you were Bubbles, their characters fit your personalities even as you grew up.
Suhee, being the leader and always knowing what to do, where to play, all the new toys that you needed to nag your parents to buy for you because she got whatever she wanted with the snap of her fingers. You weren’t so lucky, your parents were working class people while hers were a pair of franchise owners.
She was kind and sweet, she would always share her toys with you, always made you feel included.
But as you grew up and got to high school, she evolved, while you were still ‘Bubbles’. Sensitive, easily taken advantage of and bullied. She had even abandoned you at one stage and joined a group of girls who were part of the reason why you had begged your mother not to send you to school. They had made the rest of your schooling career a misery. Your parents, being heavily involved in your academics had contacted the school when they noticed that your grades were dropping. And that drew attention to the fact that you were being bullied, because obviously, teachers don’t pay attention until you point something out.
Your mother was furious. She contacted Suhee’s mother, and everything was solved between the two of you. She had apologized and you were glad that you had your friend back.
“You don’t go to school for friends.”
“Focus on your academics and everything will fall into place.”
“You need to go to college and get a better job than me.”
You had listened to your parents, because you wanted a better life for yourself and them too. You wanted to make them proud.
So, you did just that, spending night after night studying for finals, securing your place in college and pretended not to care about your social life. You had no time to focus on anything else. Suhee had introduced you to the group of girls, they were…nice, but you didn’t miss their sniggering and light giggles behind your back.
You didn’t care, because it didn’t matter. But it did hurt.
Then, puberty hit. Hormones all over the place.
Kim Taehyung, fellow nerd who sat behind you in physics, handsome and funny. You wanted him to ask you to prom, and your hopes were up because he started hanging out with you and Suhee, talking to you frequently in class.
It was going to happen, you were excited. Going to prom with the most charming guy in your grade?
Until one day, while you were sitting next to Suhee at the lunch table, he had asked her instead, and she said yes without a second thought. Despite knowing that you had a crush on him. You didn’t think much of it. It hurt like a bitch to see them at prom together, but they suited each other. They were crowned Prom King and Queen and Best Dressed. She lost her virginity that same night.
You attended prom with your other fellow nerd, Kim Namjoon.
You admit that you were a little guarded after that, you had kept your secrets to yourself. There were occasions where you wanted to spill everything to your best friend. But you bottled it all up. Until one night, after ages, you had a girls’ night in. You sang like a bird, telling her everything you felt. Your new crush and friend, Park Jimin, the dancer that just moved in across your house.
Fickle, you were fickle.
It was the summer after graduation, and you were chilling outside your house, enjoying ice lollies, when you noticed that Suhee was laying down on the grass near the driveway, you used to do that when you were kids, so you joined her. Obviously.
She had taken off her jacket and was wearing a crop top with shorts. You were wearing a short summer dress when she had pointed something out, something that you didn’t even acknowledge yourself.
“Damn, them boobies are really coming in huh. Don’t let them get too big or you’ll just look chubby.”
That didn’t make sense to you or your mother when you had repeated her words later that evening.
Let’s just say, every insecurity you have up to this day, was created by her. Your best friend.
That night, mentioning that they’ve been chatting on Twitter for the past two weeks, she ditched you to visit Jiminie. She came over for breakfast the next morning with a massive purple bruise on her neck.
That was that, you learned your lesson.
You got to college and her parents had set you up with an apartment that you both could share. She couldn’t wait to party and meet all the hot guys there. Every second night, there would be a different guy in her bed, each one with the sense of humor similar to a celery stick.
She dragged you to a few parties and you ended up losing your virginity to a final year student named Kim Seokjin, he was hilarious and gentle, from what you can remember. You still chat to him now and again but he’s too busy in the working world.
Your first year at college was fun, both you and Suhee had joined the cheer squad. She had submitted a few routines and ended up becoming head cheerleader. She was good at her thing.
Then, like a warm blanket on a cold Winter’s day, draped across your figure, tucking you in. You had seen Min Yoongi, he had mint-colored hair back then, cat-like eyes focused as he ran across the court. You hardly heard him talk when the coach would discuss tactics with the team, you were there, practicing Suhee’s choreography.
You had been sitting on the bench, fixing your laces when he sat down next to you. Your heart was thundering in your chest. You were shy, you obviously didn’t have the guts to make conversation. But he spoke and everything just flowed from then on, he was as soft as his features, kind as he talked. You never would’ve guessed that he was friendly, and comical, his stoic exterior set an impression as you watched him before, but a friendship was formed.
One introvert to another.
Weak, you were weak.
Actually, you didn’t learn your lesson at all.
You had spilled all the information a few weeks ago. You would’ve given yourself a pat on the back for keeping it in for two years if you weren’t so angry.
You spoke about your crush to Suhee, and she was shocked because you guys were just friends. She had seen you talk to him on the court. The first game of the season was that night, and she had butted in on your conversation after the game. You refused to believe it when her flirt mode was activated, and, Yoongi, knowing that she was the leader of the squad, and how popular she was with the guys, had asked her out. And you lived up to your name of being her shadow.
You cried that night, because once again, they suited each other, the captain of the basketball team and the head cheerleader.
And here you are, gaze fixed on the way Yoongi grabs her chest with his veiny hand. Disgust rising in your throat. What if that were you?
You kick out that thought as fast as it entered your mind. Yoongi would never see you as anything beyond his friend, his girlfriend’s best friend. Always the third wheel.
“Y/N!”
Jungkook, one of the guys from your calculus class, potential nerd if he didn’t party so much, grabs your hand, and pulls you in for a hug. His strong chest pressing into yours.
“Nice to see you out for once,” his breath is thick with alcohol, his words slurred as they leave his mouth.
You nod and fold your arms across your chest, he leans in close, his breath tickling your ear.
“Wanna get out of here?”
Code for: wanna fuck in my car.
You place your palm on his chest and push him away, his smirk still in place. He has been trying to fuck you for the past three months now. He’s incredibly hot, one of the hottest guys on campus, but you wouldn’t, because he fucked Suhee and every person in this vicinity.
“No thanks.”
“Come on, don’t be boring.”
There it is, that word, boring. It seems to have replaced your first name.
Jungkook is yanked out of your sight, a smile graces your features when you see who makes his way toward you.
“Hoseok.”
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and dances a bit with you in his hold, “Y/N, how are you?”
You chuckle and break out of his hold, a strand of your hair getting caught on your chapstick, he lifts a finger to pull it away.
“I’m good. You?”
“Awesome.”
“Great game tonight!”
He smiles, the apples of his cheeks prominent, “thank you and great moves tonight!”
You’re forced to yell over the music, “we follow a routine!”
He snorts, “I know, you do them the best!”
Your cheeks heat, Hoseok is sweet. If only he was your type.
“Well well well,” Suhee walks into the kitchen with Yoongi’s hand clasped in hers, “it’s the lovebirds.”
Suhee has been trying to set you and Hoseok up, just because he’s Yoongi’s best friend. She said it would be fun to go on double dates. You had told her multiple times, that he’s just your friend and you don’t see him romantically. She insists that he likes you and that you should seize the opportunity. You’re not the type of person to date someone for the sake of it, you’re also not the type of person to lead someone on. She kept repeating that you should just hook up with him if you didn’t want to date him, but you know, if she isn’t lying about the fact that he has feelings for you, then the sex would mean more to him.
“Can I get you a drink?” Hoseok looks into your cup.
“No thanks,” you smile, “I’m DD.”
“Again?! You hardly leave the house and you’re DD.”
You shrug and he spins around to look at Yoongi, whose eyes are half-lidded, lopsided smile on his face. You can tell that both he and Suhee are drunk.
“You guys need to get your shit together,” Hoseok scolds, “let her have some fun.”
“Oh please,” Suhee cackles, “she doesn’t know how to have fun. Besides,”
She places her hand on the back of your head and pushes yours and Hoseok’s faces together.
“You two need to kiss already!”
“Suhee!” Adjusting your jacket in embarrassment, you grip her wrist and drag her out of the house, “time to get you home. Bye Hobi!”
“Need help getting them in the car?” He shouts to your retreating figure, but you wave him off, telling him that you’ll be fine.
The only thing you hear during the drive home is giggling and the sloppy sounds of lips on lips. You glance at the rear-view mirror to see Suhee with her hands in Yoongi’s blonde hair, his tongue down her throat. You focus on the road and with a few more agonizing minutes, you make it to your apartment with them stumbling behind you.
They don’t even take off their shoes as they run into Suhee’s room, you sigh and walk into the kitchen. Preparing a peanut butter sandwich for yourself.
Suhee’s moans begin, the sound echoing in the apartment as you get ready for bed. You cover your head with your blanket to block out her sounds, but the walls are thin and she’s being particularly loud tonight. You can hear the slaps of skin on skin but not a peep from Yoongi, he’s always quiet when they have sex.
As her moans get higher in pitch, you listen, listen closely, attempting to keep her sounds out of your head to hear that one particular groan. Deep and raspy, you imagine that’s when he cums, his long fingers gripping her body as he spills into the condom, body dripping with sweat.
Opening your eyes, wanting to kick yourself for thinking about them having sex, you turn the pillow over and fluff it up. You don’t really blame yourself, the only barrier is a white wall.
They’re quiet now, but your mind isn’t. It hurts to watch someone you developed feelings for love someone else, someone that is also close to your heart. A tear rolls down the side of your cheek.
Tired, you were tired.
Despite being aware of Suhee’s ways, you still empty your thoughts to her. You could call her your sister, you’ve known each other since you were five years old. You have this weird attachment to her, and she knows exactly how to get you to talk. You don’t realize you’re falling into her trap until it’s too late.
Suhee was there for you when MiMi died, you celebrated almost every birthday together, she calmed you down when you were panicking because you had gotten your period while you were on holiday together, she was there for you, just like you were there for her. But she has her bad habits, her flaws that she doesn’t consider an issue because the only person it affects is you.
You’re left with an even bigger chasm each time.
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The next morning, you walk to the kitchen, having already showered and done your skin care routine, you see Yoongi sitting at the kitchen table.
Adjusting your short, you make your way to the cupboard in the kitchen, “good morning.”
“Morning.”
God, his fucking morning voice? You feel a shiver run down the length of your spine. Fingers twitching to run your hands through his soft blond strands.
Get it together.
“How did you sleep?”
“Does it matter? I have a fucking hangover,” he chuckles, “and I have practice in ten minutes.”
You also have practice in ten minutes. His long fingers curl around the mug, and as always, your throat goes dry when you catch sight of the veins that branches up to his arm. You take a deep breath and sit opposite him as you peel your banana. His eye flicker to the yellow fruit then back to your face.
Taking a bite, you try to sound nonchalant, “I have practice in ten minutes too, I can give you a ride.”
Your lips hover over the fruit as he answers, “thanks…”
Peeling back a strand from the flesh, you stare at it as you chew.
“Would you just eat the damn thing? You’re making me nervous!”
You splutter, looking at the harmless fruit in your hand then back at him, “how am I making you nervous?!”
“I don’t know?! It looks like a dick!”
Choking, you cover your hand with your mouth, your heart quickens its pace. You made him nervous by eating a banana…because it looks like a dick?
“That is rude, Min Yoongi. A woman should be allowed to eat a banana whenever she wants.”
Biting off another piece, you see his eyes watch your movement, your palms feeling a little sweaty.
“I’m sorry, okay. I just- have a dirty mind and it doesn’t help that it’s a phallic shaped fruit!”
Your words die on your tongue when Suhee walks into the kitchen and buries her face in Yoongi’s neck.
He rubs her arm, “good morning baby.”
You stand up to toss the banana peel in the trash, then place your hands on your hips when you notice that Suhee hasn’t showered yet and you have practice in less than ten minutes.
“We have practice in five minutes, Suhee.”
She groans, and rubs her temples, “I might be a bit late, is that fine? You can take over for me, just for a bit.”
Yoongi stands up from the table to wash his mug while she’s still latched onto him.
“I’m gonna catch a ride with Y/N.”
She looks at you, then back at him, then shrugs, “okay, see you guys later,” with a peck on his lips, she trots down the hallway and into her room.
Grabbing your keys and bag from the lounge, you wait for Yoongi as he ties his laces, your heart skipping a beat when he stands up to his full height and puffs out his chest.
“Let’s go.”
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Yoongi hums along to the song on the radio, you’re trying to focus on the road and not his toned thighs that peek out of his shorts. You’ve given Yoongi a ride before, but never without Suhee, this is the first. You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you begin to sing under your breath too. From the corner of your eye, you see him whip his head to look at you as you continue, head bobbing with the beat.
“You like this song?”
You nod, “yeah.”
He smiles, “me too. I listen to hip hop mostly, sometimes R&B,” he looks down at his fingers, “Suhee doesn’t like R&B.”
Chuckling, your eyes scan the parking lot, “I know. She hates it. I love it.”
He points to an empty space on your right, “thanks. Do you listen to hip hop?”
You begin to reverse in the parking space, “hmm, not all the time but I do have a few tracks on my playlist.”
“Ah I see. It’s so funny, you and Suhee are best friends, but you’re like the complete opposite,” his shoulders shake as he laughs, you turn your head to look at him at his statement.
The complete opposite?
He unclicks his seatbelt, “I mean, you have different tastes in music, in dressing, even in food. You like meat but she doesn’t, right?”
You nod, unable to speak as he continues to compare the two of you.
“She likes to party, you don’t. You’re like a ner- I mean, studious but she isn’t.”
Gripping the wheel a little tighter, you try to keep your voice stable as you speak, “so? I’m my own person. Just because we’re best friends, doesn’t mean we have to be each other’s carbon copy.”
“I know, I know,” he turns his body to look at you fully, “how did you two become best friends anyway? Just curious.”
She didn’t tell him. Of course, she wouldn’t. It isn’t important to discuss your best friend with your boyfriend.
Clearing your throat, you keep your eyes on the field in front of you to avoid meeting his gaze that seems so attentive, “our mothers were friends, so we like, know each other since preschool.”
“Really? Wow,” he pulls a strap on his bag, “she didn’t tell me that.”
You unclick your seatbelt and open the door, but he keeps talking, “must be fun to be friends with someone like her for such a long time.”
Yeah. Fun.
“Should I give you a ride home after?”
It seems like you broke into his thoughts because he takes a minute to answer, “uhm, I’ll let you know.”
He opens his door and jogs off to the court while shouting ‘see you later’ over his shoulder.
That conversation had effectively dampened your mood. The complete opposite? What did he mean by that? She’s attractive, you aren’t? She’s interesting and fun, you aren’t? He described being friends with her as fun, if anything, being friends with someone like Suhee is tiring. And the conversation you just had with him proves it.
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Practice ends and Suhee didn’t show up. It isn’t like her to abandon her squad, unless she was really suffering, after partying so hard last night. She looked fine this morning. You try to call her, but she doesn’t answer her phone.
“Hey, Y/N,” Naya runs up to you, her ponytail swinging behind her.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Just came over to tell you what a good job you did today,” you feel your cheeks flush, “you’re so strategic and like,” she searches for the word with a finger on her chin, “calm, with us.”
Giggling, you wrap your arms around her shoulders, “thank you, but I don’t think anyone could take Suhee’s place as head cheer.”
She pats your back, “the squad and I think you can. I mean, if Suhee were to ditch us, we won’t even worry.”
A nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you pack your bag, the sun dipping beneath the horizon, “she can be a bit…strict.”
“Overly strict if you ask me. Anyway,” she gives you another hug, “I’ll see you on Monday, enjoy the rest of your weekend!”
“Bye~”
Suhee might be your best friend, but you do admit that she can be a bitch sometimes. Not only to you but especially to girls you know she thinks might be a threat. Her nasty attitude toward them worsens when her superiority is challenged, the rest of the squad can’t even express their opinions without an eyeroll from her. But you try to find a common ground if an issue arises.
You hold up your hand to block the sunlight as you scan the court, seeing a lone figure bouncing the basketball before shooting. Shoving your hands into your jacket pockets, you make your way to him, admiring his silhouette from behind.
“Hey,” you call out to him, he turns around and smiles at you, “need a ride?”
The ball hits the ground once before you catch it in your palms, looking up to be met with a mischievous grin.
“Wanna play?”
You match his grin, “sure.”
Bending your knees, you bounce the ball behind your back and catch it in your other hand, before moving around him. His eyebrows raise in amusement, his mouth forming an ‘o’.
“Ooooh, someone’s got moves,” he crab-walks in your direction.
You giggle, “you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Gaze fixated on the hoop, ball bouncing in your left hand as you run in its direction. Bending your knees as far as it can go, you catch the ball in both your hands and spring up to dunk it, when two hands grip your waist and pull you down, you yelp as the ball leaves your hands and misses the basket, bouncing away dimly.
You spin around and bang your fist on Yoongi’s chest, “that was a violation!”
His eyes crinkle with mirth, “I know, but you looked so focused and cute. I couldn’t resist.”
You swallow, chest heaving. Cute?
He walks to the ball that now bounces weakly off the ground then thrusts it in your direction, “free-throw.”
Wordlessly making your way to the foul line, you bounce the ball twice before holding in your palms, squinting as you bend your knees.
You feel him come up behind you and touch the backs of your knees which almost buckles at the contact.
“Bend these a little more,” he speaks directly into your ear, you can feel the blood rush to your head.
Ignoring the way he still hovers behind you, the ball leaves your hold with a strong throw, it hits the backboard and goes straight through the basket.
You throw your arms up in the air and twirl around to see Yoongi with his gummy smile lighting up his face.
“Okay,” he walks over to the ball again and dribbles, “defend.”
Rushing over to him, the ball still bouncing off the ground, you make grabby hands at him while he spins around, his back hitting your chest, an ‘oof’ sound coming from you.
Arms still flailing around, you try to move around him but his back keeps bumping into your chest, you whine.
“Yoongi!”
He tilts his head to the side, his eyes almost half-lidded as he smirks, “what’s wrong, princess?”
Huffing, you press your shoe into his calf.
“OW!”
An evil laugh spills from your lips when you get a hold of the ball and dribble in the direction of the basket.
“Not so fast!”
He places his hands on your hips and spins you around, giggling as he continues to spin in circles. The ball slips from your hands when he finally sets you on the ground but attacks you with tickles.
“Yoongi! Stop!”
“Never!”
Crying out and trying to push his hands away from your sides, you fall backwards while his fingers continue with their assault. Gasps echoing in the empty court, he places his knees on either side of you and moves his hands up to your armpits.
“NO YOONGI STOP PLEASE!”
Tears begin to prickle your eyes and he finally relents, his palms placed near your face as his chain dangles over you.
The laughter dies down and you stare up at him, his eyes seem to twinkle in this lighting.
His phone rings and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the position you’re in, he seems to realize too, and he moves off your body while reaching for his phone.
“Hey babe.”
You dust off your skirt and stand up on shaky legs, heart not catching a break as you run to your bag.
“Suhee.”
Jumping in fright when you hear his voice behind you, you place your palm over your chest.
You catch up to what he said, “oh okay. Do you still need a ride?”
He shakes his head, “nah. I’m meeting Hoseok at the barbecue place a few streets away.”
Nodding, you hold your bag under your arm as you wave at him, he does too, a little awkwardly.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” you smile.
His lips stretch but the corners don’t lift, he wipes the side of his nose with his knuckle, looking down at his shoes, then somewhere behind you.
“Monday.”
That night, you hope to dream of a pretty boy who spun you around in the air, like you were the only two people who existed in that moment.
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“Could you drop me off here?”
Your eyebrows furrow, “why? The court is on the other side of campus.”
“Fuck, Y/N.”
Pulling over on the side of the road, you park outside the swim stadium building.
Without even informing you about the plans for today’s cheer practice, she jumps out of the car and blows you a kiss as she runs into the building.
Maybe she’ll be a little late for practice today.
As you’re walking toward the rest of the squad who are already warming up, you wave.
“Hey guys.”
“Hey Y/N.”
“Hi.”
“Hey girl.”
“Heyyy.”
“Y/N,” Naya grips your arm as you’re trying your hair into a ponytail, a serious expression on her face, “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
She pulls you into a corner away from the rest of the girls who chatter and giggle.
“Where’s Suhee?”
“She’ll be here in a bit she told me to leave her at the-“
“Pools?” She cocks an eyebrow while yours pinch together.
“How did you know?”
She sighs and looks around, making sure that no one can hear what she’s about to say.
“I heard something, I don’t know if it’s true. But I thought I’d tell you…”
You lean in closer to hear her better, palms sweating in suspense.
“Suhee is dating Youngsik from the swim team.”
Stepping away from her, your eyes dart all around her face in disbelief, “Youngsik? She’s with Yoongi!”
Her manicured nails glitter as she curls her hand around your wrist, “yes. She is cheating on Yoongi.”
No.
That can’t be true.
Looking away from Naya, you see Yoongi on the other side of the court, goofing around with Hoseok.
“I-“
“Look,” your gaze locks with hers, “if you don’t believe me. Go see for yourself. Today after practice. I know that she won’t even turn up today.”
With that, her eyebrow jumps as she walks away from you, a sad smile on her face.
You feel your throat begin to constrict when you notice Yoongi running toward you.
“Hey, Y/N.”
Busying yourself with tying your laces, you mumble a ‘hello.’
“Where’s Suhee?”
Undoing your laces and retying them, you shrug, “don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Yes.”
He laughs, “you should know where she is. You’re always following her around.”
Whipping your head up to stare at him, his eyes almost shut with how he continues to laugh. And mock.
“I’m not her fucking PA, okay? I said I don’t know where she is,” you grit your teeth, slamming your other shoe on the bench as you begin to tie its laces.
He backs away from you, “geez, okay Y/N.”
You watch him jog over to the center of the court then glancing back at you before he joins the rest of the team.
“You shouldn’t be mad at him,” Naya whispers.
Taking off your jacket and tightening your ponytail, you begin warming up, “I know.”
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Naya raises an eyebrow in your direction as she walks away, one that you know is an ‘I told you so.’
Like she said, Suhee didn’t show up for practice, and you had to take her position yet again. The rest of the squad didn’t seem to mind. But you know that you shouldn’t get comfortable.
Taking a deep breath, you park outside the building and switch off your car.
You hope, desperately, that what Naya had told you earlier was just a rumor. Suhee might’ve had a lot of flings, but she isn’t a cheater. And she’d be stupid to cheat on someone like Yoongi who treats her so well.
Heart pounding in your chest, you walk up the small pathway when a couple sitting on a bench near a large tree catches your attention. You’d recognize that bright pink scrunchie anywhere.
Their backs are facing you as you hide behind a wall, trying extremely hard to figure out if it’s Suhee.
The girl turns her head to look at the boy next to her and your shoulders sag in relief when you see that it isn’t Suhee. Bright pink scrunchies are popular. You’re about to turn away when the sound of giggling urges you to stop and listen. Following the sound, you try to press your foot softly on the ground so as to not alert whoever it is of your presence lest you add another weird name to the list, like ‘stalker’ or ‘perv.’
As you’re walking further behind the building, you jump back when you see a guy pressing a girl in a familiar black and gold skirt against the brick wall. Chewing on the corner of your mouth, you move a little closer and sprint behind a tree.
Catching your breath, you peek over the trunk when you catch sight of Suhee, one leg secured around the guy’s, Youngsik’s waist as she kisses him shamelessly. You can almost hear her moans from where you’re standing.
Jaw touching the grass in shock, you gather yourself and realize that it’s pointless to be watching them like this. When you reach your car, you grip the steering wheel and hold in your screams for when you’re in the privacy of your room.
What the fuck.
How could she?
No matter the type of person she is, you’d never think she would do something like that.
You’re so on edge that your soul almost leaves your body when your phone rings. Cursing when you see that it’s Yoongi calling. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you answer the call and put on the fakest smile, despite him not being able to see you.
“Hey, Yoongi!”
“Hey, uh, Y/N.”
“What’s up?”
“Uhm…Are you still on campus?”
You look around, clutching the phone a little tighter, “yeah. Why?”
“Where are you?”
“Library! I’m…at the library. Yeah.”
“Oh, uhm, could you give me a ride?”
“Sure!”
With that, you hang up and switch the car on, pulling onto the narrow road as fast as you can as you drive back to the court.
Wait.
Why are you driving fast?
The quicker you get there, the quicker you’d have to face Yoongi. Shit.
Before you know it, you reach the court to see Yoongi standing on the side of the road.
“Thanks,” he buckles in, and you drive off, keeping your bottom lip secured between your teeth as the image of Youngsik and Suhee keeps flashing in your mind.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Your voice is a little high-pitched. More than usual.
“For what I said earlier about you always being with Suhee. I just meant that-“
“It’s fine. Yoongi.”
You can see him nod in your periphery.
The sun has set, and the sky is shrouded in a dark blue hue, stars dotting the sky as you drive. You’re glad that he chooses to be silent for the rest of the drive, you still need to work through what you just saw.
Your best friend ditching cheerleading practice to canoodle with a guy that is not her boyfriend. You’re ashamed and…heartbroken, you don’t know how to place your thoughts. She seems to be so in love with Yoongi, as he is with her, any person of sound mind would know that he cares for her deeply. One thing you’d never forgive is cheating, she’s shrewd and cruel and-
“Hey, what’s going on there?”
Glancing out his window, you see that there’s a crowd near the lake on your right, beams dancing in the air, loud music reaching your ears.
“Let’s check it out.”
“What?” You step on the gas, so you pass the road that leads down to the lake.
“Come on, Y/N. It looks fun. We could do with some fun.”
Groaning, you turn onto the dirt road, eyes flickering to his face to see him sport his gummy smile as you approach the dancing bodies.
Parking off a safe distance away, you step out of the car and follow him to the edge, your eyes catch on the moon, its reflection on the water makes your breath hitch.
“Y/N!”
Yoongi waves you over to follow him, the light breeze whipping your hair in front of your face, you tuck it behind you ear as you take each step cautiously.
He sits down near the edge, his knees held up to his chest. You stand near his seated figure, he pats the space next to him. Rolling your eyes, you sit down, rocks poking into your butt. The people around you laugh and chatter, swaying with the music as they enjoy the evening’s serenity.
“It’s beautiful,” he speaks, hands clasped in front of him as he stares up at the moon.
Your heart clenches in your chest at his soft tone, stars twinkling in his eyes as he tilts his head up. Admiring the curve of his jaw, his puckered lips and buttery skin, you look straight ahead when he tilts his head to look at you.
His raspy chuckle catches your attention, “I come here often.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he sits back on his palms, his chest puffs out while you hold your knees to yours, “to clear my thoughts.”
Looking back at him, he has a blank expression on his face, his eyes following the flow of the water, he meets your gaze, and you have the desire to tell him everything. He doesn’t deserve to be cheated on when he’s such a good guy. Obviously, you have a crush on him, but even if you didn’t and you found yourself in this situation, you would’ve still had the urge. Because no one deserves to be cheated on, especially someone like him.
“Did Suhee respond to your message?”
Groaning inwardly, you shake your head and divert your attention back to the moon, “I called her, but she didn’t pick up.”
“She didn’t reply to mine,” he sighs, tipping his head back.
“Should I try calling her again?”
He shakes his head, “nah, she’ll reply to me soon.”
Nodding to yourself, you shut your eyes and breathe in the fresh air, the thick smell of wet grass fills your nostrils. Music still playing behind you, your foot taps to the rhythm, letting it drown out your thoughts.
“Do you want to do dance?”
Eyes flying open to look at the boy who has a goofy smile on his face, he gestures with his eyes to the gyrating bodies behind you, wiggling his eyebrows. You shove his shoulder, his body shakes as he laughs.
“You know I don’t like to dance.”
He holds his stomach, “me too, that’s why I asked.”
Laughter bubbling to the surface, you join in, cheeks aching with how hard you’re laughing.
“Don’t you miss those days, like your childhood I mean, running around without a care in the world? I miss it, especially when I come here…I miss my parents.”
You’re still looking at him as he continues.
“They weren’t happy with the choice I made, you know, music. I miss them in times like these. When I’m happy.”
He’s happy right now? Laughing with you? You feel a lump form in your throat.
Chuckling, he shakes his head, “sorry, this lake has a weird effect on me.”
“It’s okay…I miss the person I want to be.”
“What?”
Clearing your throat, you kick some sand into the water, “I mean, I…have this uninhibited version of myself in my head, for as long as I can remember, but I don’t think I’ll ever be her.”
Silence settles between the two of you, the wind creating ripples on the water. It’s too quiet and you’re about to make a joke out of what you just said when he cuts you off.
“Work on your inhibitions.”
Your eyes flicker back to him, an unfamiliar expression on his face.
“You said you have an ‘uninhibited’ version of yourself, get rid of what’s preventing you from being her.”
His words replay in your head, and you’re thinking of everything that might be holding you back. Your self-image? Your insecurities? Suhee?
“In my opinion,” he nudges your shoulder with his, “I like this version of you.”
He laughs, while your heart drops to your stomach. How can one guy be this sweet?
You giggle and he nudges you again, you realize that he’s this comfortable with you, because you’re his friend.
When it dies down, the reality of the situation hits you. It’s wrong to crush on your best friend’s boyfriend. Clearing your throat, you stand up and dust off your skirt, checking the time on your phone, 7:17PM.
“We should get going.”
He nods, then lifts his arms up in your direction, “pick me up.”
Heart working overtime in your chest, you ignore the tingling feeling you get when you grab his palms, planting your feet on the ground to yank him up, only for him to pull you down even harder. With a cry, you fall flat on his body, hands splayed on his chest.
Hair covering your eyes, you look up at him, his eyes wide, “I’m sorry.”
You realize that your body is pressing down on his and you move your palms from his chest to place them on either side of his shoulders so you can sit up, when his hand comes up to move your hair away from your eyes, gaze locked on yours.
Lump still in your throat, you stand up abruptly and spin around, running back to your car.
Heart beating erratically, you want to bang your head on the window. Why why why is life so cruel to you?
The car door opening makes you snap your eyes open, trying to calm your breathing. When you hear his seatbelt clicking in, you start the car and drive as fast as you can to his apartment.
“Goodnight,” he pulls out his bag from the backseat.
“Night.”
Zooming off into the distance, you don’t even notice the figure watching you as drive off, a frown on his face.
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You unlock the front door, utterly exhausted after today’s events. Why does it suddenly feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders?
Kicking off your shoes, you startle when you see Suhee sitting at the kitchen table, yoghurt container in her hands.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Fuck, you scared me.”
She cocks an eyebrow, “saw your reflection probably.”
“Ha ha,” you place your keys on the counter and walk over to her, seeing a sandwich placed on a plate.
“Is that mine?”
“Yep,” she shoves the spoon into her mouth.
She usually makes you food when she-
Oh no.
She wants to talk.
“I think I’ll take this to my room.”
“Nope,” she stares into the half empty container, “you’re gonna eat here. Don’t want to drop any crumbs in your room. Plus, I know you’re hungry.”
Sighing, you pull out the chair and sit next to her, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite.
If your mouth is full, you won’t have to answer, right?
“I always knew you were a voyeur.”
Choking, you bang your fist on your chest and she tsks, walking to the sink to fill a glass with water then places it in front of you.
“What?”
“You think I didn’t see you, spying on me today.”
Swallowing the last chunk of bread in your mouth, you raise an eyebrow, “I wasn’t spying. I just needed to-“
“To what? Gather evidence so you can tell Yoongi, and he’ll break up with me so you both can live happily ever after?!”
You bristle at her tone, “what the fuck are you talking about? I heard a rumor, and I refused to believe it, so I decided to see for myself.”
“Okay,” she folds her arms, “you saw? Now what?”
“How could you, Suhee? He’s such a g-“
“Oh please,” she scoffs, “guys like him are good to play the boyfriend role. Nothing else.”
“Boyfriend role? So, one dick isn’t enough for you?”
She laughs, her teeth on show as she throws her head back, “correction. His dick isn’t enough for me.”
“You seem to thoroughly enjoy it though!”
“Damn, you keep proving me right, I knew you listen in on us while we have sex!”
“That’s because I live here, and you scream like a banshee!”
She sits down on the table, rubbing her temples as if you’re the cheater and you need a scolding.
“Listen, don’t tell Yoongi.”
Scoffing, you stand up to rinse your plate at the sink, “he’ll find out soon enough, I’m pretty sure everyone knows since it managed to reach me, and I hardly speak to anyone.”
“So, who did tell you?”
“A little birdie,” you dry your hands and walk down the hallway, she follows you into your room, socked feet pressing into the carpeted floor.
“Someone from the squad then?”
You busy yourself with looking for pyjamas, “no…”
“Come on, I know when you’re lying to me, plus they’re literally the only girls who you talk to other than me.”
“Yeah, one of them told me. But it won’t be long until Yoongi finds out.”
“Is that a threat, Y/N?”
You toss a sleepshirt onto your bed, “no it isn’t. I’m just saying, rumors spread like wildfire around here.”
“It won’t, if I’m careful enough.”
Pulling out a pair of socks and pink sleep shorts, you narrow your eyes at her, “why are you even doing it?”
“Youngsik is nice, but so is Yoongi. It’s complicated Y/N, I don’t expect you to understand when you didn’t even have one boyfriend in your entire life.”
Tears prickle your eyes at her jab, but you blink it away.
“Stop cheating on Yoongi, Suhee. He’s gonna-“
She steps into your personal space, “he won’t find out, unless you tell him. I’m being careful. You cannot tell him.”
Taking a step back, you look up at her with wide eyes. She kisses your head, “now why did you get home so late? Usually, you’re back home before 6PM.”
She lingers at your doorway, while you grab a clean towel from your drawer.
“I was with Yoongi.”
“Keeping my boyfriend entertained. Nice.”
“Someone has to do it since he has a lousy girlfriend.”
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Staring out your bedroom window, you tap the end of your pen on your desk, fist placed under your cheek as you watch the leaves float in the air.
Maybe if you weren’t so shy, if you weren’t so quiet and reserved, if you weren’t you, Yoongi would’ve been spared the hurt that is inevitable. You know it won’t be long before he finds out, but you definitely won’t be the one to break it to him.
He’s so clueless and in love, bile rises in your throat.
There’s nothing you can do about it either, Suhee will hate you forever if you had to tell Yoongi and you don’t even know how Yoongi would react if you told him. Would he yell and shout? Would he pretend not to care? Would he break up with Suhee? Would he forgive her?
How does someone react when they find out that they’re being cheated on?
It hurts, yes it does, of course, they’re going behind your back when you were supposed to be the only one for them.
You still don’t know what goes on in Suhee’s head, and you won’t pretend that you do know. She’s playing some sick game, while you sit back and watch.
She’s right, if you tell Yoongi, she can easily say that you have a crush on him and you just want to tear them apart. Which would end terribly, Yoongi will probably never speak to you again.
Suhee is manipulative and Yoongi will listen to her over your reasoning.
Girls like Suhee get their way, that’s the reality of life.
Your phone rings and your mood brightens a bit when you notice that it’s your mother calling.
“Hey, mom.”
“Heyyy, how are you doing? What are you up to?”
Shuffling over to your bed, you fall back on the plush covers, “I’m good. Not much, was just studying.”
“Oh no. Something’s up. Something’s bothering you.”
Rubbing your palm down your cheek, you nod even though she can’t see you, “it’s Suhee.”
“Ugh Suhee? You’re still friends with her? I told you a thousand times before, you’re not kids anymore. You’re in college! You can be friends with whoever you want! Fight whoever you want! Kiss whoever you want! Fu-“
“Mother!”
“I’m just saying, Y/N. You aren’t forced to be her friend anymore, even if you live together.”
You throw an arm over your eyes, “I know, I just…I’ve known her my whole life and I-“
“I know, I know. It’s hard because you’ve been friends for so long.”
“Mhm…”
“So what’s the issue with her?”
You sigh, “she’s cheating on Yoongi.”
“Goodness, didn’t think she was the cheating type.”
You spring up from the bed, “I know!”
You hear your mother sigh over the phone, “she’s cheating on Yoongi with who?”
“Some guy from the swim team.”
“Ooh, athletic. Yoongi is athletic too. Doesn’t he play basketball?”
“Yeah, he’s super athletic.”
“He’s also the guy you had a massive crush on since you started college?”
“Yes! I mean, yeah,” you clear your throat, “he was.”
“You’re friends with him, am I right?”
“Yep.”
“If I were you, I’d snatch that boy for myself.”
Groaning, you stand at your door to check if Suhee came home, “Suhee is my best friend.”
“Still don’t know why…” She mumbles under her breath, but you caught what she said.
“You aren’t helping mum!”
“I’m sorry! I’m just saying.”
You sigh and flop back down on your bed, cheek pressed against your cat plushie, “I asked her about it.”
“Wait, you asked her about what?”
“Why she’s cheating on him.”
She gasps so loud that you have to pull the phone away from your ear, “that is a big change! Calling her out on her shit!”
Rolling your eyes, you bring the phone back to your ear. Your mother needs to stop watching so much Netflix.
“She said I shouldn’t tell him because she’ll just tell Yoongi that I’m lying, and I just want to break them up.”
“That is manipulative behavior, Y/N, ditch the bitch.”
“MUM!”
“Dad just got home. I’ll talk to you later. Bye~”
“Bye~”
As you set your phone back down on your desk, you realize that your mother is right.
You recall Yoongi’s words from last night, about your inhibitions, the things that hold you back. It’s time you get rid of them, one by one, no matter how difficult it might be.
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“I’m thinking of going on a 3-day fruit diet before the Halloween party.”
You swirl your straw around in your milkshake, watching the milky froth bubble up.
“Yah! Y/N! I’m talking to you!” Suhee snaps her fingers in front of your face, her loud voice grabbing the attention of a few people who sit near you in the coffee shop.
“What did you say?”
She sighs, “I said, I think I’m gonna go on a 3-day fruit diet before the Halloween party. Wanna join me?”
You shake your head, “I’m happy with my figure right now.”
“Really? Why did I even ask you?”
She flicks her hair over her shoulder, “so, what costume are you gonna wear?”
“Hmm not sure.”
“Well, Yoongi and I are going to match our outfits. You know like a sexy nurse and hot doctor. Or even better, school teacher and naughty student.”
You look up to see her daydreaming, twirling her red hair around her index finger.
“Seriously? School teacher and naughty student?”
She shrugs, “we haven’t found the outfits yet, we’re still figuring it out.”
You chuckle as a thought crosses your mind, taking a sip of your milkshake.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” you giggle.
“Tell me!”
“I was just wondering why you aren’t pairing up your outfit with Youngsik’s.”
You can see the anger build up in her black eyes and you know she’s about to blow up until a deep voice makes the both of you whip your heads around.
“Y/N.”
The tall, dimpled man makes his way toward you, you stand up from your chair to pull him in for a hug when you recognize who it is.
“Joon!”
“Ahh,” he bends down to cover your body with his, “it feels like ages since I last saw you.”
Pulling away from him, he looks you up and down, you blush under his gaze, “you look great!”
“You too,” you giggle, hand coming up to pinch his bicep, “beefing up I see.”
He rubs the back of his neck, an old habit you’re all too familiar with, “yeah.”
“How’s chemical engineering going?”
He raises his eyebrows, “I won’t lie, tough. But I’m managing, I chose that career path for a reason.”
You nod, “true true.”
“Anyway, I’ll see you around,” he hugs you again, “and I’ll text you! Was so good to see you again!”
Smiling to yourself, you sit down in your chair, humming happily, ignoring Suhee who gawks at Namjoon’s retreating figure.
“Okay. Who the fuck was that?”
“Why am I not surprised that you don’t remember him,” you lean forward, “that’s Kim Namjoon, he was in high school with us.”
She stares up at the ceiling, trying to remember, her face lights up, “ahhhh! He had the mushroom haircut, right? Damn, he’s so hot now.”
Scoffing, your straw makes a loud sound as you slurp up the last bit of ice-cream, “is anyone safe around you?”
She shoots you a glare, “someone has a bit of a big mouth these days.”
You direct your attention to the barista as she stacks the cups near the coffee machine.
“Anyway,” she throws some change on the table and adjusts her dress that just makes it to cover her ass, “I have to go meet my boyfriend now. Can’t wait to see your boring costume this year. Love ya!”
Yoongi or Youngsik?
You have no idea.
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One goal: choose un-boring Halloween outfit.
You’re sitting with a mug of piping hot tea, browsing a costume site. You find one that you think is cute, but the price urges you to keep scrolling.
You want to wear something sexy this year, you’re into it.
Last year you wore a (now that you look back) horrible checkered, pink and white dress. You were Mary and Suhee was the sexy little lamb.
Bonnet tied under your chin, you shiver at the memory.
You’re definitely going sexy this year. You want to pick something that suits you, something that correlates with your personality and interests.
A full black latex outfit catches your attention. It reminds you of-
CATWOMAN!
It’s perfect, you like superhero movies, you watch them almost every weekend.
Yoongi likes Batman…
The outfit you found on the site is way too expensive, but you think you can gather black pieces here and there and put together an outfit. All you need is cat ears. And a utility belt. Thigh high boots? You already own leather tights…
It’s going to cost a lot, you might have to use some of your savings.
Not wasting any time, you add the desired pieces to your cart.
Great. Delivery a week before the 30th of October.
Enough time if you change your mind.
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Placing your leg on the bench as you stretch, you watch Suhee and Yoongi cuddle across the court.
“Funny she’s here today,” Naya speaks up from her spot next to you, “must be Yoongi’s turn.”
Sucking your lips in, you hold in your laugh as you roll your shoulders back, “glad I get a break from pretending to be head cheer.”
Suhee runs in your direction, Yoongi watching her as she goes.
Naya places a hand on your shoulder, “I’m not.”
“Okay guys, come on. That’s enough stretching and warming up.”
She clasps her hands together as you and the rest of the squad gather in front of her, she turns a bucket upside down and stands on it so she’s higher than the rest of you.
“I wanted to make an announcement,” she begins, “I know, I haven’t been here for the last two practice sessions but it’s okay! You won’t have to deal with Y/N any longer,” she laughs.
“Anyway, I wanted to say,” her fake smile disappears, “I think we should direct our attention to other things. More important things, like focusing on the routine and choreography and studying, or whatever. What I’m trying to say is…refrain from spreading rumors and gossiping. We don’t waste our precious time here.”
Naya’s gaze is set on you as Suhee continues to talk.
“The semi-final is on Saturday, and we need to work!”
She punctuates each sentence with a clap of her hands.
“Now let’s go!”
Everyone cheers except for you and Naya who’s still watching you closely, her pretty face contorted into a frown.
You hope she doesn’t think that you told Suhee…You did, but you didn’t say who told you.
After the game, you grab your bag and run to Naya who ignores your shouts of her name.
“Naya. I just wanted to-“
“Save it, Y/N. Why don’t you go suck Suhee’s ass some more.”
You feel a pang in your chest.
Gripping her shoulder, you spin her around, “I didn’t tell Suhee that you told me about her…cheating.”
She folds her arms, “great.”
“She said she saw me spying on her and I told her that I knew, and she obviously knows that the only girls I talk to are the cheer squad.”
You take a deep breath, “I didn’t tell her who told me, I sw-“
“Y/N,” she places a hand on your arm, “relax. It’s okay. I get it now.”
Looking at her a little wide-eyed, chest heaving, she chuckles.
“So wait. You were spying on her?”
You point to the road, “the day you told me, I decided to find out for myself, and I saw her and Youngsik making out.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, she’s a real bitch,” she gestures behind you with her eyes.
Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach when you see Suhee sitting on Yoongi’s lap, her hand in his hair as she kisses him.
Guess he won’t need a ride today.
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“This game will determine who goes to the final round. So, girls, I wanna hear you cheer our boys like your life depends on it!”
Suhee can be so dramatic, but you all do your job and cheer them on.
Hoseok winks at you as he runs past the group of squealing girls.
Naya nudges you, “I think he likes you~”
You watch the icy blond, slender physique appearing feather light as he jumps in the air.
Next, Yoongi runs past you, and he smiles at Suhee, his eyes meet yours for a millisecond and your heart skips a beat.
“But you like him,” Naya says, her voice a little dim.
You turn your head to look at her, mouth open.
Suhee blows kisses at him, his gummy smile in place as his friends shove him around and tease him.
You pick up your pom poms, “does it matter?”
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Twenty minutes pass and the team take a break, Suhee hands Yoongi a towel while you hand out juice to the guys.
“Thank you, Y/N.”
Hoseok beams at you. When you get to Yoongi, Suhee grabs the bottle and waves you off as she feeds him.
Sitting down on the bench, Naya taps your shoulder and points somewhere behind you, you see Youngsik watching Suhee and Yoongi, his hands gripping the bar in front of him. When your gaze travels back to Suhee, you notice that she keeps looking back at him, glaring while she runs her fingers through Yoongi’s sweaty strands of hair.
Shaking your head, you take a swig of juice and stand up from your seat, joining the rest of the squad as the second half begins. This part of the evening is when your heart starts to pump a little faster, hair raising at the back of your neck as the crowd roars, coaches cussing and screeching at the players.
You stop dancing with the rest of the girls when Hoseok searches for an open pass, Yoongi comes rushing in and with a quick throw, the ball goes flying through the basket.
Without thinking, you yell Yoongi’s name, he whips his head around to see you jumping up and down. He smiles then shoots you a thumbs up, like you’ve just scored for the team. Smiling back at him, you gesture for the squad to join in, keeping one arm propped on your hip while the other stands high in the air, waving back and forth.
A bit delayed, Suhee joins in, chanting with the crowd.
When the clock nears zero, you feel the blood rush to your ears when Yoongi faces off with his opponent. He bounces the ball to Hoseok, your eyes darting from the clock to the players, panting as they try to block Hoseok, who beats the buzzer and dunks the ball into the basket.
Screams echo in the vicinity, crowd cheering as Bangtan’s team makes it to the finals. They shout Hoseok’s name, picking him up on their shoulders while he holds his fists in the air. When they put him down, he runs to the crowd dramatically, giving each of them high fives.
The coach’s tie comes loose with how high he’s springing up in the air. You giggle, hugging the girls around you. Hoseok stands in front of you, you yank his hand and pull him in for a hug.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders as tight as possible, squeezing the air from your lungs.
When you break away from his hold, he keeps his hands on your elbows, staring down at you.
To your horror, everyone begins to chant kiss kiss kiss while you look around awkwardly, seeing Suhee laugh and point at you.
“You’re boring.”
“Why did I even ask you?”
“You’ll never do it!”
Taking a deep breath, you see Naya give you a smile that appears encouraging, eyes still scanning the crowd, Yoongi comes in your line of sight, his eyes darting between you and Hoseok.
Holding Hoseok’s cheeks in your hands, you lean up on your tippy toes and press your lips to his, feeling his hands settle on your waist. The crowd goes even crazier, hearing your name fill the air. His soft lips move over yours, without thinking twice, you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him down as your tongue rolls over his. When you pull away, a string of spit connects your lips, you purse the flesh to break the line that connects the two of you.
Hoseok seems a little shocked, his teammates nudging him, his cheeks tinted red. The squad does the same to you, giggling as you hide your face behind your palms.
You miss the look of disbelief on both Yoongi’s and Suhee’s face.
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The kiss might’ve spiked your confidence, it felt good to be at the center of attention for once.
Hoseok messaged you later that night to ask what the kiss meant, you had said it was a celebratory kiss, as simple as that. You haven’t stopped texting since that night.
You’re dotting black near your upper lip, eyeliner held tightly in your hand as you draw on whiskers to complete your costume that hangs up in your cupboard.
The image of Yoongi watching you and Hoseok is etched in your mind, his lips were shut, an indecipherable look on his face. You’ve had enough time to think about it, he had that reaction because Hoseok probably didn’t tell him that he had feelings for you. They’re best friends, they talk about everything. The kiss must’ve been a surprise to him.
You have no idea what outfit Suhee is wearing for tonight’s party.
“Y/N,” she stands at your doorway, “I’m heading to Yoongi’s to change.”
You hum.
She picks up your glass filled with your smoothie mix, “is there almond milk in this?”
“Yep.”
“God, Y/N,” she sets it back down with a clink, “I told you almond milk makes your boobs bigger!”
You apply mascara, “maybe you should have some.”
She stomps down the hallway, you heart the front door slam shut. Laughing to yourself, you take off your gown and put on your outfit.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you smooth your palms down your hips. You feel a little nervous, you’ve never really worn an outfit like this before, each curve and dip of your body is accentuated.
Shaking your doubts away, you grab the black cat-ears and place it on your head, cocking your head to the side as you survey your outfit. You had practiced your makeup thrice before tonight and you think it came out pretty good this fourth time.
When you get to the party, all eyes are on you, you feel extremely exposed, heads turn as you walk deeper into the house. You’re having an internal battle, keeping your arms at your sides instead of crossing them over your chest like you usually would when you’re feeling uncomfortable.
“Oh my God, Y/N,” Naya sidles up to your side, you don’t even look at her outfit because you’re too busy staring down at the tip of your boot, “you look so damn cute!”
Blushing, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “uh, thank you. Have you seen Suhee?”
She points to the balcony, you see her leaning over the railing, she’s wearing what seems to be uniform? She turns around and waves at you, as you’re approaching her, you squint your eyes and look her up and down while she does the same.
“Are you supposed to be catwoman? Cute.”
Nodding, you point at her collar, “and you’re…?”
“Sexy air hostess,” she twirls around.
“Ah.”
“Y/N,” she holds your arms and pulls you close so her lips are pressed to your ear, “I need a favor.”
You catch a whiff of alcohol. Meeting her gaze, you nod for her to continue.
“I need you to keep Yoongi occupied for a while.”
Your eyebrows furrow, “why?”
“Because,” she whispers, “Youngsik is here and he’s kind of not talking to me. I need to make it up to him.”
You’re about to walk away but she grips your hand, “please, Y/N. Don’t you wanna show Yoongi your outfit?”
Shoving her away, she calls to your retreating figure, “thanks, Y/N!”
As you’re turning around to tell her that you are NOT going to do her that favor, you watch her pull Youngsik into a room, giving him all the bedroom eyes.
Cursing internally, you walk out of the stuffy house. How does Suhee manage to drag you into her bullshit, every single time?
“Y/N?”
You could recognize that voice anywhere. Spinning around, your jaw touches the floor when you see his outfit.
Decked out in uniform, he’s wearing a pilot costume.
That’s all that registers in your brain because he looks so fucking hot in his outfit. A single silver earring dangling from his ear, silver rings on each finger.
His mouth is open as his eyes rake down your figure, he takes a step closer to you, you do the same.
“You look-“
“You-“
You both speak at the same time, and you gesture for him to continue but he mirrors your action.
“No,” you laugh, “what were you gonna say?”
“If I say what I really want to say,” he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, “then I might be in trouble.”
Cheeks heating up, you tilt your head to the side, feeling particularly bold tonight, “why?”
He sucks a breath in, gaze lingering on your chest. Typical male.
“Promise you won’t tell Suhee?”
You want to laugh on his face, his girlfriend is literally fucking someone else right now and he’s worried about giving you a compliment.
“Yeah,” you shrug, “I promise.”
Taking another step closer to you, his chest is a few inches away from your face.
He leans down to whisper, hands tucked in his pockets, “you look fucking sexy.”
You almost choke on your own spit when his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.
Oh.
You were expecting a:
“You look nice.”
“You look good.”
“You look pretty.”
But “you look fucking sexy”? Nope, your pussy is not throbbing right now.
Clearing your throat, you’re trying extremely hard not to push your thighs together because he’s still watching you. Giving him a tight-lipped smile, you mumble a thanks.
“You’re welcome.”
Why is he still whispering in that sexy deep tone?
You see him take a sip of his drink in your peripheral vision. Silence, except for music and noisy chatter coming from inside the house, settles between the two of you.
“So, you and Hoseok huh?”
You turn your head to look at him, “what do you mean?”
“You guys are dating? I was there…at the game…I saw the kiss.”
“Really?” You hold your chin, “Didn’t see you there.”
His eyes widen, “I was there! I assisted his-“
“I was being sarcastic, Yoongi.”
“Oh,” he laughs dryly, “so…the kiss?”
“What about it?” You tease.
“What’s going on with the two of you?”
You shrug, fixing the cat-ears atop your head, “it was just a celebratory kiss.”
“A celebratory kiss,” he repeats.
“Yep.”
“Why didn’t you kiss the whole team and coach if it was celebratory?”
You chuckle, “what?”
“I’m just saying, if it was celebratory,” he drags out each syllable, “and the whole team won. Why didn’t you give everyone a ‘celebratory kiss’?”
Someone might think he’s discussing basketball tactics with the way his hands track his words, a serious expression on his face.
You don’t say anything, fiddling with your utility belt.
“I miss the old Y/N.”
You whip your head to look at him, “what?”
He stares straight ahead, repeating his words, “I miss the old Y/N.”
“What are you-“
“I miss the Y/N who doesn’t give out ‘celebratory’ kisses, the Y/N who dresses up as a ghost for Halloween, the Y/N who-“
“Yoongi,” you interrupt, unsure of where he’s going with his rant.
He misses the ‘old you’?
The one who let Suhee walk all over her, the one who had not an ounce of confidence even in her own home.
“What are you talking about, Yoongi? This is me. This is who I am. I’m sorry if there’s a certain ‘Y/N’ standard that I need to follow.”
To be honest, you spent all week gathering the courage to wear this costume, to come out of the apartment wearing a full face of makeup and done up hair. And here he is referring to the old you, the you that you liked the least.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Y/N. I just-“ he sucks in a breath “-I was talking about the Y/N that I first met. You know the cute, quiet one?”
“Cute. That’s all everyone ever says, cute.”
You smack your palm on the railing, bracelets jingling.
“Yes, because it’s true Y/N. The same cute girl that I had feelings for!”
Your eyes bug out of your head, “what,” voice like a puff of air.
“I know you don’t see me like that,” he’s twisting at his rings, not looking at you, “Suhee told me. But I caught feelings for you…since our first year. You were shy and it made sense that you wouldn’t have feelings for someone like me. But I did. And I wanted to ask you out, but I was hesitant, so I asked Suhee for advice and she told me that you see me as a friend. I guess I saved myself from embarrassment but here we are.”
Blinking at him, what he just said doesn’t seem to sink into your brain until a few moments later.
“Still embarrassing myself,” he chuckles nervously.
“S-Suhee told you that I didn’t have feelings for you?”
He nods.
Anger bubbles to the surface. Because she knew, she knew how much you liked him, and she lied.
“Anyway,” he brings up his hand to rub a knuckle on the side of his nose, “did you see her? She said she needed to use the restroom half an hour ago.”
You’re babbling, nails digging into your palms.
“She went in one of the rooms.”
“Alright, I’ll see you later.”
As he walks back into the house, you see Hoseok near the doorway.
“Hey,” you walk up to him and pull him out of the house, “you look great.”
“Wow, Y/N,” his gaze travels from your face down to your shoes, “you look so cute,” he pinches your cat ears.
“Thanks, uhm, do you wanna talk?”
You gesture to the poolside, and he nods, “yeah yeah sure.”
He’s talking, handing you his drink, throwing an arm around your shoulder, but you aren’t listening.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he leans in closer, and you smile at him, hands clasped in your lap, “can I kiss you?”
You place your palm on his chest and shake your head.
“I-“
“Y/N!”
You turn around to see Suhee running down the stairs and in your direction, heels in her hand, tears streaming down her face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
You stand up and Hoseok follows you, hand lingering on your back.
“What are you-“
“I told you to keep him occupied!”
Her hair is messed up, mascara streaking her cheeks. You look at Hoseok, awkwardly, then hold your palms up placatingly.
“Suhee, we-“
“Shut the fuck up! You’re so fucking useless,” she pokes your forehead with her index finger, you stumble in your heels, Hoseok catches you by your elbows, “because of you I lost him!”
“Suhee, what is your problem? Is that any way to treat your best friend?”
“Oh shut the hell up Hoseok! She doesn’t fucking like you!”
You look up to see Hoseok staring at you with wide eyes.
“Hobi, I-“ you hiccup.
“Let’s see if he still sticks by your side like this,” Suhee shouts as she stomps off to her car.
Tears are brimming over, the lump in your throat burns as you try to take a breath.
“Hey, Y/N,” his voice is soft, finger swiping a tear that rolls down your cheek, “it’s okay. You’re okay.”
He pulls you into his embrace, your tears staining his white shirt.
“I’ll still be your friend,” he giggles.
You look up at him, when another booming voice cuts through your thoughts, leaves crunching under their hurried footsteps.
“Did you know?”
Stepping away from Hoseok, you see Yoongi staring at you, blood trickling down the side of his lip.
“Yoongi, you’re-“
“Did,” he shuts his eyes and inhales a shaky breath, “you know?”
His eyes are wild when he opens them again, piercing into your own.
“Did she know what, Yoongi?”
He looks between you and Hoseok, poking his tongue into his cheek.
“Did she know that Suhee was cheating on me?”
You can feel Hoseok’s gaze burning the side of your face.
Your eye twitches, “Yoongi…”
He laughs, running his fingers through his air as he walks away, “some fucking friend you are Y/N.”
“Yoongi!” Your chest feels like its closing up, panting as you call after him, but he doesn’t stop running.
“I’ll…text you,” Hoseok runs after him, leaving you with the stagnant pool, no breeze waving the leaves around, even the crickets are silent.
Silence.
The opposite of what’s happening inside your head.
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Struggling to open your front door with your heels and purse in hand, your cat-ears fall forward and blocks your vision. Cursing, you finally get the key in the lock and twist, huffing as you stumble into the dark space.
Sniffing, you check your phone for any response from Yoongi. He hasn’t answered any of your calls or texts.
You place your keys on the counter when the lamp in the lounge goes on, startling you.
“Y/N,” Suhee’s voice is nasally, her eyes puffy. A state you’ve never seen her in before.
Sighing, you throw your heels on the floor and sit down on the couch in front of her.
“How could you do that to me? How could you?”
Eyes the size of saucers, you turn your head to stare at her, hands dropping from your face.
“How could I?”
You throw your head back as you cackle, not sure if you heard her correctly.
Facing her, you point a finger in her direction, “how could you? You told Yoongi lies, all you ever told him was fucking lies! About me, about yourself, about your whole fucking relationship!”
She bangs a fist on the table, “don’t fucking talk about my relationship!”
“I think I fucking can! The whole reason why you were even together was because of me! You lied your way into that relationship!”
She stands up from the chair to tower over you, “you would’ve never been enough for someone like him! He-“
Matching her height, you place a hand on her shoulder to push her out of your personal space, “how the fuck do you know that? You knew how much I fucking liked him! But you didn’t even give me a chance! That’s what you always do! Hogging all the guys that give me a bit of attention!”
“Wait wait wait, you’re mad at me right now?” She places a hand on her chest as she laughs, “you fucking ruined my relationship!”
“No,” you take a step forward, “you ruined your relationship. He was bound to find out eventually.”
“You know what, Y/N. I never knew you could be such a fucking bitch. What happened to you? Suddenly grew a pair?!”
Shoving her away from you, you walk down the hallway, “I’m fucking done with you Suhee!”
You’re bawling, but she doesn’t give up, still shouting at you from your doorway.
“Without me, you’re no one!”
You’re about to slam the door in her face, when she shoves her foot between the door and doorframe and overpowers you, backing you up in the room until you fall on the bed.
“My parents pay for this place, and I want you and your pathetic ass out!”
“Fine by me! I won’t have to keep up with your whoring around anymore!”
She gasps, while you lay back on your elbows and with a huff, she leaves your room and slams the door shut behind her.
When it’s quiet, you sink down on your bed and cover your face with your palms, heart pounding in your ears as you unzip your jacket and fling it across the room.
You are done.
You don’t need her. You’re done with her manipulation and games.
With blurry vision, you grab your laptop from your desk and search up cheap apartments around campus. Fingers trembling as you type.
Hand searching the blankets for your phone desperately, you search for a contact, snivelling when they answer the call.
“Mum…”
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Cheerleading practice rolls around and you don’t miss the whispers and sniggers directed at Suhee. She looks drained, hair up in a bun as she warms up.
“Hey,” Naya sits down next to you on the grass.
“Hey,” you smile, playing with the cap of your water bottle.
“I heard about what happened on Saturday at the party.”
“Yeah,” you take a sip of water.
“I guess you’re finally free of her,” she gestures to Suhee who is now staring at her phone screen.
“I also need to find a new place.”
“What? She kicked you out?”
“Yeah,” you sigh, indifference painting your features.
“Don’t you guys like, split the bill?”
“It’s complicated.”
She nods then taps your knee to get you to look at her, “I actually live with Taehee and Sooyeon, but Sooyeon is moving in with her boyfriend who literally lives right next door. If you want, you could take her room.”
You blink at her.
“I mean, if you want to, or until you find a better place.”
“Why are you so nice to me?”
She laughs and stands up, dusting the grass off her skirt, “pay it forward.”
Suhee doesn’t even glance at you as everyone practices the choreography for the final and once practice is over, she speeds off in the direction of the swim stadium.
“I’ll text you the details,” Naya runs off with Taehee and Sooyeon, the other girls that you might be living with soon.
You can hear the thud of the basketball echo, when you turn around, as expected, Yoongi stands at the center, the golden hour hue makes his blond hair appear like a halo.
Chest puffing out as you take a deep breath, you walk over to him.
Without turning around, he greets, “hey, Y/N.”
“Hey,” voice soft.
Finally, he spins around to look at you, looking a little brighter than the last time you saw him.
“How are you?”
Drawing circles on the ground with your shoe, you keep your eyes on the movement, “Good.”
You hear him sigh, “I’m sorry,” you meet his gaze, “for how I reacted at the party. You’re not the one I should’ve been mad at.”
“Don’t be. I should’ve said something.”
The ball bounces from his hand to be caught in the other, “nah, she’s your best friend. Best friends keep your secrets, right?”
“Was.”
“What?”
“She was my best friend.”
He blinks at you, scratching his ear, “oh.”
The ball bounces twice before you catch it in your hands.
“Wanna play?”
Despite being exhausted after such a long day, you’re glad to see him in a completely different mood than you expected him to be, you nod.
Bending your knees, you dribble and move away from him. He comes up in front of you and snatches the ball from your hands, flying as he dunks it.
He runs back to you, while you try, sluggishly, to get the ball back.
“What?” He pants, “no fancy moves today?”
Rolling your eyes, you grab the ball from him and back him up, his black eyes, lit by the molten sun, fixed on yours. Turning on your left foot, you press your back to his chest and shoot, going straight through the basket.
He claps, lips sticking out exaggeratedly, pretending to be impressed.
The ball bounces in front of you again and you’re about to grab it when he beats you to it and grabs your wrist, dragging you a few feet away from the basket.
Looking at him a little confused, he pulls up his shorts and bends his knees, ball leaving his hand with heavy touches.
He bounces it to you, “go go.”
Springing off the floor, the ball is in your control as you step to the side away from him, in a flash, he snatches it from you and dunks it again, swinging from the basket, flaunting his strength as he pulls himself up then jumps down.
Heart pounding in your chest, you grab the ball and jump up to shoot when he yanks you away from the basket, squeals tumbling from your lips as he spins you around and sets you down, reminiscent of the last time you played together.
He stands behind you, hands still of your hips. You turn your head around to look at him, face a few inches away from his, eyes flickering to your lips.
Your palms are sweaty, chest beginning to hurt with each breath. His eyelashes flutter as he shuts his eyes, you watch the pretty strands, his breath tickling your lips.
Abruptly, you break out of his hold, no matter how much you wanted to connect your lips and kiss him like it’s the last thing you’ll do. You can’t.
He watches you intently, almost like he’s trying to figure out why you didn’t kiss him.
“I-“ you swallow “-I don’t want to be a rebound.”
He picks the ball up from the ground, tossing it from one hand to the other, “a rebound?”
You nod, “yeah.”
“I’ll show you what’s a rebound.”
Moving swiftly across the court, the ball soars in the air and leaves his hands only for it to bounce of the backboard, then the rim of the basket. But before it can touch the ground, he springs up and dunks it, legs dangling off the ground.
You watch the ball bounce away somewhere toward the trees behind the court. He picks his bag up off the floor and slings it around his shoulder as he makes his way to you.
He moves your hair away from your face to whisper in your ear, his musky scent clouding your mind, “that’s a rebound.”
Palm still on your face, he kisses your other cheek, lips lingering on your skin, heat spreading all over your body. When he pulls away, he winks at you and delivers his blinding gummy smile.
He puts on his black cap and runs across the road, leaving you gobsmacked with your palms pressed to your cheeks. Heart growing wings, threatening to leave your chest with how fast it’s pumping.
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“We’re having an afterparty whether we win or lose,” Taehee holds a finger up in front of Naya’s face.
You laugh, tying your hair up as you watch them in the reflection.
It’s another Saturday night and the final game of the season, it’s also five days since you moved in with Taehee and Naya, their apartment is always buzzing with good energy. You thank Naya everyday for letting you move in.
“You guys ready?”
“Yep,” you grab your water bottle and car keys from the coffee table.
You moved to a new apartment and coined new friends with it, they’re all so sweet and caring and they flood your days with positive affirmations while you do the same.
As you’re walking down the stairs of the pavilion, you catch sight of Suhee and Youngsik. Her arms are wrapped around his head as she sits on his lap. When she sees you’re watching, she dips her head to kiss him.
Coach Kim is busy talking to the team. Hoseok stands with an arm over Yoongi’s chest, they listen attentively to him as he bangs his fist on his palm.
They disperse and sit down on the bench while the others warm up.
You’re rolling your neck back when Yoongi stands in front of you, smile in place.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey, Yoongi.”
“You look pretty,” you’re about to thank him until he adds, “cute. Pretty cute.”
His shoulders shake while you roll your eyes, “good luck out there.”
Finger reaching up, he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze tracking the movement, “I have my good luck charm right here.”
Face probably as red as your seat, you shove him away from you, “you’re so cheesy.”
He cups his hands around his mouth as he yells, “you love it, Y/N.”
Naya and Taehee’s elbows are digging into your sides the whole time, so when you finally look at them, you find yourself blushing extremely hard.
“Oh my God~”
They’re mumbling under their breaths, and you try to shush them.
“You and Yoongi huh?”
Both you and Naya turn around to see Suhee sitting behind you, her chest pressed to her thighs as she leans down to whisper, “enjoy his small dick.”
With a giggle, she trots away to grab her pom poms and starts the routine without the rest of the squad while you and Naya glare at her.
When your gaze travels back to Yoongi, you see him glance at Suhee, his mouth in a thin line.
“Come on,” Naya tosses your pom poms in your lap.
Bangtan is off to a good start, 16-6 after the first half ends.
You’re about to pick up the crate of water when Suhee steps in front of you, handing water bottles to each of the players. You watch her closely when she gets to Yoongi, bending down far too much as her cleavage becomes exposed to him. He’s too busy talking to Hoseok to even look at her.
“If he has a small dick,” Naya imitates Suhee’s voice, making you laugh, “why is she doing the most to get his attention?”
Suhee is now crouched down in front of him as she ties her shoelaces then stretches her arms over her head to fix her ponytail, her stomach peeking out.
You know that Suhee never backs down that easily.
Getting back in position, the crowd chants along with your squad as the players work on quick feet, coach Kim yelling defense as the opposing team tries to shoot. The crazed audience hangs on to the edge of their seats when the clock nears zero, securing the fate of Bangtan’s basketball team.
Your hand comes up to chew on your nail when a player from the other college’s team grabs at Yoongi’s hand while he tries to spring up to shoot, yanking him away from his initial spot. The referee awards Bangtan with two free throws. Yoongi moves away from the backboard to stand at the free throw line.
The crowd goes silent as Yoongi cracks his neck. You can only see the back of his head but you can picture the intense look he must have on his face. With a flick of his wrist, the ball hits the backboard and bounces off the ground, ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ filling the air. Yoongi’s shoulders slump in what you think is disappointment, but he gets the ball again and prepares for his final shot.
The air is thick with tension, you can’t even pretend to imagine what it must be like to have all the pressure on you, how it would feel to have the fate of your entire team in your hands, whether or not you win this season.
Yoongi bends his knees, bobbing up and down slightly before the ball cuts through the thick air and with a satisfying whoosh, it proceeds straight through the basket.
Everyone jumps for joy, the team wastes no time in picking Yoongi up, almost tossing him in the air. Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling, hugging each of the squad members.
“We did it!”
Coach Kim fist bumps the air, tie swinging around wildly as he does some weird dance.
A shower of black and gold confetti comes down, ear ringing with all the noise and fuss.
Your palms are aching and red, sore as you continue to slam them together, pom poms lost somewhere on the ground.
Feeling a pat on your shoulder, you spin around to see Yoongi with a goofy smile on his face.
“Do I get a celebratory kiss?”
You’re about to nudge him away with your hip when you notice him lick his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he moves a little closer to you.
Nervously, you look around to see everyone watching you. Much like the night of the semi-finals which wasn’t too long ago, except you kissed Hoseok, who is now the on-looker.
Bile rising in your throat, you curl your fingers around Yoongi’s wrist and pull him through the double doors, the light from inside hits the shiny floors as you drag him into a dark corner.
You don’t want to be named someone that kisses a different guy each week, but you really want to kiss Yoongi.
Slamming him into a nearby wall, he looks down at you with a perplexed look on his face.
“What are hmmf-“
You grab his cheeks and smash your lips to his, moving fervently, tasting his cherry-flavored chapstick. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, hands pulling your hips against his. Moaning, your weave your fingers through his hair, head moving this way and that as your tongues clash. You can still feel the confetti raining down on you, the muscle in your chest pumping with a thunderous beat.
Breathlessly, you pull away, eyes struggling to open, so immersed in his touch.
“Wow,” he pants, and you finally look up at him, half of his face illuminated.
Smile splitting your face, you realize that you kissed Min Yoongi, the guy you’ve been crushing on for the past two years. The guy that has feelings fo-
Wait.
“Wait,” your eyebrows furrow.
His thumb rubs over your hip and you realize that your bodies are still packed together, you try to move away but his iron grip keeps you in place.
“What is it,” his voice is just above a whisper, so gruff.
“Do you have feelings for me?”
He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, “yes I do,” you gasp when he presses his hips against you, feeling his very large bulge dig into your stomach.
“I have so much feelings for you.”
He keeps rocking his hips against you all while bringing your own forward, his leg slotting between your thighs.
“Yoongi,” you squeal, “someone could see us.”
“Did you get here with your car?”
You nod, jolting when the skin of your thigh rubs against the material of his shorts, “with Taehee and Naya.”
“Text them,” you purse your lips when his thigh meets your center, feeling the wetness pool there, “tell them that they need to find another ride.”
Head falling forward to his shoulder, you nod again.
“Let them know that you’ll be coming home with me.”
Unable to speak, he moves you away from his body and drags you down the hallway toward the exit, feeling your pussy clench, panties damp with your arousal.
He shoves his hand into your jacket pocket and pulls out your keys. Hand still enclosed around yours, he opens the passenger side door and buckles you in, despite your protests. As soon as he closes the driver side door, his lips are on your neck, teeth nipping on your soft flesh. His hand comes up to close around your breast, each press in time with his suckles on the column of your throat.
You hear muffled talking, and you tighten your hold on his hair to pull him away, but he just groans, the sound reverberating through your body.
“Yoongi,” you gasp, his hand squeezing your other breast. Tugging on his hair a little harder, you pull him away from your neck, he looks up at you with blown out pupils and puckered lips.
Looking out the window, you point to a few people who are walking to their car, “people might see us.”
“Fuck,” his thumb and forefinger pinch your stiffened nipple through the fabric, “I want you.”
Grinning at him, the throb between your legs makes you clench your thighs together, “I want you too.”
Begrudgingly, he switches on the engine and drives onto the road. You can’t tear your eyes away from his posture, streetlights casting a glow on his features, flexed arm gripping the steering wheel.
“What are you thinking?”
Resting your hands in your lap, you shake you head, “nothing, you just look incredibly sexy when you drive.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Hand me your panties.”
“What?”
“Hand me your panties, princess.”
His eyes stay on the road as he repeats his request, no, order. Your hands lay flat on your thighs, as if by his words, your undergarments would magically come off.
“I’m- I’m wearing shorts underneath my skirt.”
He turns onto his apartment street, “hand me those too then.”
“We’re almost-“
“I’m waiting, princess.”
Staring at the side of his face, you pull off the black shorts and place it in his awaiting palm, which closes twice to indicate that you aren’t done.
With flushed cheeks, you drop your white cotton panties into his hand. He hums and keeps it in his enclosed fist while you avert your gaze to the road.
Wordlessly, he parks your car and steps out. When you join him on the pavement, he grabs your hand and pulls you all the way up the stairs and in front of his apartment door. Your other hand holds the hem of your skirt down uselessly, you still feel the cold night air touch your soaking folds.
You’ve never been to his apartment before, you know he shares the place with Hoseok. But you don’t even have time to explore, he pulls you into the first room down the hallway and locks the door behind him. Hands on your hips, he pushes you down to sit on the bed then pulls off his jersey, skin glistening with sweat.
“I should shower, I’m sweaty.”
Shaking your head, your greedy hands smooth up his chest, “I’m sweaty too.”
He bends down and places a finger under your chin, lips hovering over yours, “I like you sweaty.”
Spreading your legs so he can fit between them, you pull him down with you on the bed, “me too.”
The kiss is all tongue and teeth, spit mixing when he swirls his tongue around yours, grunts coming from him when your twist your fingers in his hair. You feel his hand run up your inner thigh, arousal seeping out of you when he thrusts his tongue into your mouth. Suckling on his bottom lip, you moan when you feel a finger run up your slit, collecting your juices on the pads of his fingers.
Squirming under his weight, he breaks away from you, teeth tugging on your upper lip.
You sit up a bit as he pulls off your vest, sighing when you let your hair loose from the tight ponytail.
His eyes stay glued to your chest as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and once the material is nowhere in sight, his mouth is latched onto your nipple, hand coming up to pinch the other. He’s merciless with his tugs and suckles, teeth grazing your perked buds, cries of his name joining his satisfied sighs.
His hand continues with its ministrations, earning moan after moan when he begins to swirl his index and middle finger around your clit, his hand unseen as he works you under your skirt, your legs spreading wider.
Happy with the way your nipple turns a bright red as he tugs it between his lips, he moves on to the other, gaze locking with yours when he sticks his tongue out of his mouth and flicks the tip over your hardened bud, spit coating it, lapping and sucking, moaning like he’s the one being stimulated.
You feel his fingers prod at your entrance, his thumb pressing against your clit. He pushes two of his fingers inside your pulsating hole, his thumb flicking your clit from side to side, drawing moans from your swollen lips.
His mouth stays enclosed around your nipple and with a final nip, he moves up to suckle on the tops of your breasts, his fingers building a steady pace, your walls squeezing around him. Purple blooms on your supple skin, he seems proud of his work as he moves to your other breast, teeth sinking into the flesh, his tongue lapping at the skin to soothe the burn.
“You’re squeezing my fingers in,” he speaks against your body, hair sticking to his forehead, “so fucking tight.”
He picks up the pace, the sounds of squelching reaching your ears as he hooks his fingers on each push in, your hand flies down to grab his wrist when he touches the spot inside of you that has you twitching. Your dreams couldn’t compare to the sight of his flushed cheeks and glistening lips, fire swirling in his eyes.
“Fuck, right there, princess?”
Eyes closing, you nod, whimpering when he twists his fingers inside of you, his thumb moving languidly over your clit. You feel the pressure build, walls hugging his fingers with each drag and press.
He seems to notice, and he begins to kiss down your stomach, his head disappearing under your bothersome skirt.
His fingers still plunge into your sopping pussy, mewls tumbling from your lips with each thrust. The first swipe of his hot tongue has your back arching off the bed, high approaching a lot faster when he wiggles it against your clit.
“Yoongi, fuck.”
His other hand comes up to fondle your breasts, fingers massaging your walls, tongue curling around your clit. When his lips wrap around your pulsating bud, he suckles, thumb pressing down on your abused nipple, you cum, seeing stars behind your eyes, heat enveloping your body.
Chuckling tiredly, your hips move against his face to ride out your high.
When he reappears, his face is bright red, sweat collecting at his temples. You notice the purple marks that dust your chest, marks made by him.
He pulls down your skirt, you see his cock pressing against his shorts. Hand going down to rub his massive erection through the fabric, his eyes shut, grunting, leaning into your touch.
Sitting up, you push him down on the bed, pecking every inch of his skin. Holding eye contact, you curl your fingers around the edge of his shorts, licking your lips when his length springs free. He tangles his fingers in your hair, watching your every move.
“Y/N,” he rasps, “wanna fuck your tits.”
Gripping the base of his cock, your mouth falls open at his request. You’ve never done that before, your gaze flickers from his girthy length to his face.
Noticing your slightly puzzled expression, his thumb rubs your cheek, “get it nice and wet first, princess.”
Taking a deep breath, your lips hover over his dusty pink tip, he hisses when you squeeze a bit around the base. Tongue darting out, you massage the head with the wet muscle, spit trickling down his length.
“That’s it,” he bucks his hips, “spit on it.”
Gathering a pool of saliva, you purse your lips and let the liquid drip, fist pumping once to spread it all over his cock.
“Come on, Y/N,” he taps your cheek with his thumb, and you look up at him, the sight makes your breath hitch, his eyes are half-lidded, staring down at you, lips swollen.
“Spit on it.”
Shutting your eyes, you hold the tip to your mouth and let the spittle fly out of your mouth with a noisy sound, flattening out your tongue to lick the vein that runs on the side.
“Fuck yes, love it when you’re dirty for me.”
Moaning at his words, you wrap your lips around the head, sinking down, hollowing out your cheeks, taking him as far as you can before you’re pulling back, taking a deep breath, then sinking back down, his fingers tug at your strands, making you moan around his length.
Twisting the base, your tongue presses against the underside as you take each inch, his hips lift off the bed when you place your palms on his thighs and take him all the way to the back of your throat, swallowing around his length, breathing through your nose.
“Shit, fuck,” he yanks you up by your hair, away from his length, “you’re gonna make me cum, still wanna fuck those pretty tits.”
Wiping your chin with the back of your hand, you bite your lip at his words.
He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, your tongue traces his cupid’s bow, hands rubbing up and down his sides.
You adjust your position as you kneel in front of him, his cock slick with precum and saliva.
His hands smooth down your neck then to the sides of your breasts, keeping his gaze on your mounds, he pushes them together, thumbs rubbing over your nipples, still sore from his earlier attack.
“Keep them like that for me, princess.”
Obliging, you place your hands on either side of your breasts to keep them together while he pumps his cock, the slick sounds reaching your ears. Your eyes meet and he gestures for you to move closer. He places the head of his cock under your breasts and when it pushes through the top, he lets out a guttural moan, neck being exposed as he leans back on the bed, his palms holding him up.
Getting the gist, you move your breasts up and down over his length, seeing the slit dribble out precum, smearing over your skin. His groans of pleasure urge you to move faster, bouncing over his length, you press them together as much as you can, spitting down on his twitching cock.
“Fuck, Y/N, just like that, ah fuuuuck,” he slips down to his elbows, hips lifting up off the bed as he thrusts.
You don’t know where to look; his cock that’s fucking into your boobs or his expression of pure bliss.
Moving a little faster, your tongue darts out to split his slit on each thrust, tasting the salty beads that collected.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” he paints your skin with white, gasping, some enters your mouth, some hits your chin. You slow your movements, stroking his softening dick as he gives you a fucked-out smile that has your cheeks flushing even more.
You don’t even have time to survey the mess before he’s pulling you up and wrapping his arms around your body. You feel sticky with sweat and cum.
“You have no idea…I wanted to do that for so long,” his hand runs down the back of your hair.
Your arms encircle his torso, still a little shocked at what just happened.
Min Yoongi is cuddling you, you’re cuddling him. Nuzzling into his chest, his sweet yet musty scent surrounds you. You grimace when you feel his cum drying on your chest.
“Yoongi,” he hums in answer, and you look up to see him almost dozing off.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hall,” he mumbles.
Giggling at his sleepy state, you look around to find your clothes when you see a T-shirt of his hanging on a chair. Putting on the grey piece of clothing, you pad down the hall and head to the bathroom.
On your way back, you think he might be fast asleep with the way he lays motionless, blanket lifting with his steady breaths, until he speaks.
“Y/N?”
You see him pat the space next to him. Moving under the blankets, you push his hair away from his face, his eyes are still closed.
“Hmm?”
“Spend the night,” he slurs.
Settling next to him, you press your back to his chest, his arm wraps around your waist and tugs you closer.
“Goodnight,” you intertwine your fingers and bring your hands up to your lips, kissing the back of his hand.
He does the same, kissing the back of your hand, “goodnight.”
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You wake up the next morning, stomach crying for food.
Kissing Yoongi’s forehead, you take a moment to appreciate how cute he is as he sleeps, you’d never say it’s the same guy from last night with hungry touches and wild eyes. You fight the urge to pinch yourself, almost like you’re living a dream. Waking to Min Yoongi’s angelic face feels surreal to you. It felt impossible for the longest time.
As quiet as you can be, you open his room door and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you turn around the corner to find the kitchen, seeing Hoseok who is sitting at the table. You tug the hem of Yoongi’s shirt down when he looks up at you, crossing an arm over your chest.
“Hey, Y/N. OH! I’m not looking, I promise,” he spins around so his back is facing you while you walk further into the kitchen with heated cheeks.
“There’s coffee over there,” he points to the counter on the left, mugs next to the machine for convenience.
You fill a cup and sit on the other side of the table, sliding down a bit in the chair.
“You can…turn around now.”
You glance at him when he calls your name, feeling a little awkward in his presence. You hope you weren’t too loud last night.
“I’m happy for you and Yoongi.”
Your lips hover over the rim of the mug, feeling guilty for everything that happened between the two of you.
“You were Yoongi’s before I even knew you.”
You stare at him, eyes narrowing in confusion.
He shrugs, “Yoongi liked you way before I even knew you existed. I honestly didn’t know until recently.”
You listen to him, placing the mug on the table.
“If I had known…I’m just really mad at Suhee. She cheats on Yoongi then tries to win him back by telling him the truth. Like that’s going to solve anything.”
“The truth?”
“Yeah…She told Yoongi that you liked him from our first year, but she said she loves him now. Even though I saw Youngsik with her that same afternoon,” he scoffs.
That doesn’t surprise you at all, she will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Maybe she did love Yoongi? No. That can’t be. You’re faithful to the person you love.
“Anyway,” he drums his fingers on the table, “I have to be somewhere, I’ll see you guys later.”
His lips stretch, small dimples forming in his cheeks.
“Bye, Hobi…Thank you.”
He salutes, then steps out of the apartment.
You drain the mug and return to Yoongi’s room, seeing him sitting up with his back leaning on the headboard.
He smiles at you as you enter, his gaze lingering on your (his) T-shirt.
“Morning, princess.”
“Morning,” you smile, sitting down next to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek, like this is completely normal, like you’ve been doing this for years.
“How did you sleep?”
You rest your cheek on his bare chest, “haven’t slept like that in years.”
“You look good wearing my T-shirt.”
Tilting your head, you place a kiss on his chin, “thank you.”
He clears his throat and takes both your hands in his, nudging you to sit up.
“I know it might seem a little too soon,” he begins, your eyes search his, “but I’ve had feelings for you since the first year.”
You grin, “I know.”
“Yes, and what I wanted to say is- I mean, what I wanted to ask…” He trails off. Your heart begins to race.
You poke his cheek, “go on~”
His thumbs rub the back of your hand, “will you be my girlfriend?”
Deciding to tease him as well as get a little clarification, you stare up at the ceiling, “weren’t you dating Ahn Suhee a week ago?”
“If you’re talking about Y/L/N Y/N’s best friend then yes, yes I was.”
“Former,” you correct.
“Right, right.”
“Hmm, I don’t know if he still has feelings for her.”
He shakes his head frantically, “none, none at all. Might seem hard to believe but when someone proves to be a terrible person, they make it easy to un-love them.”
“Un-love?”
You tap your chin.
“Is that a thing?”
“You know what I mean, Y/N!”
He tackles you and you yelp, falling back on the bed, your hair sprawled across the sheets.
Gazing into his black orbs, you lift a hand to cup his cheeks, checking if he’s real and not a figment of your imagination.
He places his hand over yours, “if you have doubts…then we can take it slow.”
You think about what that could mean, “take it slow?”
“Yes, princess. Take it slow, I don’t want to rush you into anything and fuck up this whole thing.”
“I don’t want to fuck it up,” you pout.
He presses his thumb to your bottom lip, “then we’ll take it slow, okay?”
“Okay.”
His eyes stay glued to the way his thumb rubs on the flesh, “but right now…”
“Right now?”
You’re breathing a little heavier, seeing the lust-filled look in his eyes return.
“I want- no, I need to fuck you. Keep thinking about those pretty sounds you made.”
His gaze travels down to your clothed breasts, one of the bruises he made visible to his eyes.
“Want to make you mine, cover your body in this,” you hiss when he touches the sore spot.
Grabbing your waist, he pulls you onto his lap, his hands settle on your bare thighs, pushing the grey material up. The familiar thrill gathers between your legs, spread open and waiting. Memories from last night flood your mind, how he pleasured you, how good he made you feel, it all collects in your core, and you rock your hips against his bulge, whining when he doesn’t make a move, observing you.
“So needy for my cock,” he grips your hair harshly and captures your lips in a heated kiss, your hands smoothing up his shoulders to rest on his neck.
You feel his fingers tickle your inner thighs, ascending to your folds, he licks into your mouth as his tongue swipes up your folds, moaning as you jerk your hips forward wantonly.
Kissing down his jaw, your tongue traces the outer shell of his ear, hearing him gasp and press two fingers into you at once. You nip on his earlobe, mewling when he scissors your ridged walls, prepping you for his cock that presses into your thigh. Hard and throbbing, all for you.
He removes his fingers, and you watch as he pops them into his mouth, your pussy clenching involuntarily when he groans. Pushing you back down on the bed, you grip onto his shoulders, ravenous with the way he pulls off your shirt.
“Wanna eat you out,” he wraps his arms around your thighs, yanking you further down on the bed.
“Yoongi, I need you,” you sit up on your elbows, suckling on his neck, tongue darting out to lap at his Adam’s apple.
The ache between your legs is becoming unbearable, “want your-,” feeling a little shy despite being stark naked. He chuckles at your sudden change in character.
“Want my cock?”
You feel more of your juices leak out of you, his raspy chuckle sending tingles down your spine.
Nodding meekly, you wrap your legs around his waist and run your fingers through his hair, pushing him against the headboard, your nipples rubbing against his muscular chest.
One hand stays on your ass as he reaches over to pull out a condom from his nightstand, mind fogging up with desire, you had almost forgotten. He rolls the latex down his length and guides it through your folds, his hand squeezing your ass when you lift your hips and sink down inch by inch, burying your face in his neck.
“So fucking tight,” he grits out, your mouth hangs open, the tip reaching deep inside of you, you feel stuffed full with his cock.
He sinks his fingers into your hips and lifts you up, only for you slam back down, your moans muffled by his sloppy kisses.
He begins to thrust into you, knocking the air from your lungs while you sink your teeth into the junction between his neck and shoulder, tears prickling your eyes with how good he’s stretching you out, how good it feels to have him massage your walls. He guides your body in time with his thrust, setting a pace that has you crying out, his cock brushing that spot with each drag.
The pull out of your walls seems electrifying, but each time, you change your mind when it pushes back in, your brain seems to short-circuit.
Body going limp in his hold, you let him guide you over his cock, panting and grunting, pressing into you, each lift of his hips, each rub of his cock has you close to unravelling and when he keeps himself buried deep inside of you and you roll your hips around, when he adds his thumb to your clit, flicking at break-neck speed, and leans down to capture your nipple in his mouth, you feel a wave of goosebumps prickle your skin, walls closing around him with a vicelike grip, you cum around his twitching length.
Spasming in his hold as you collapse onto his chest, he helps ride out your orgasm, riding out his own too. You’re unable to form a coherent thought, muttering ‘wow’ and ‘thank you’ as he pulls out of you and discards of the condom, using his grey shirt to wipe you down.
You feel a blanket being draped over your figure, sleep washing over you once again.
Mumbling, you don’t know what you might be saying. The last thing you see are two cat-like eyes blinking at you, and the last thing you hear, is an “I love you too.”
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a/n: feedback is appreciated.
⤺Masterlist
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taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon
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moon-write · 2 months ago
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his entire world.
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summary: an especially fussy dae makes it difficult for you to enjoy your friends’ wedding pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dad!bts, fluff rating: g word count: 1.3k tags/warnings: crying baby, mentions breast milk (barely a sentence)
song inspo: the night we met | lord huron
a/n: for anon, ah I loved writing this request. Dad yoongi is probably my favorite to write for 🤫 I changed it to where reader is the one who gets spilled on, I felt it showcased Yoongi more that way. I really hope you like it! Also need to dedicate this to @hyungieyoongi because she’s a boss & working so hard. I hope this dad!yoongi fluff can be a bit of an escape for you bestie.
can be read as standalone, but the characters are apart of my canon series: a serendipitous life
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Everything was perfect. A blue sky, a balmy breeze, an intimate setting with friends and family. You were beaming as you watched two of your closest friends recite their vows to one another.
Well, almost perfect.
If not for your fussy one-year-old who hadn’t stopped whining since the ceremony began. You and Yoongi played hot potato with Dae, it only worked for a few minutes before your son was squirming again.
Yoongi patted his son’s back, gently shushing him. “He didn’t nap on the drive here,” you whispered while the groom said his part, “so his sleep schedule is off, that’s probably-”
A blood-curdling scream bellows out of your baby, causing those around you to jump. You feel your face heat up, ripping Dae from Yoongi’s arms, passing through with whispered apologies with a crying Dae. Before Yoongi could offer to take him, knowing you would want to see your friends end this sweet moment with a kiss, you were gone in a flash.
“I know, baby,” you groaned once secured in a secluded area, bouncing your son in your arms. He cried from his deepest depths, rubbing his face on your shoulder. In your haste to escape to avoid disturbing the wedding any further, you forgot to ask for the keys to the car where you hoped to soothe your son to sleep. Claps and cheers could be heard minutes later, likely your friends were announced married followed by a kiss. Hopefully, your husband will remember to take pictures for you.
Yoongi sought after you once the ceremony let out, finding you pouting beneath a tree. He could hear Dae whimpering, taking him back in his arms but not before kissing your forehead; “I missed the best part,” you whined, on the verge of tears yourself. With a breathy chuckle and sympathetic smile, Yoongi just hands you his phone and you repay him with a grateful kiss. The video was great, maybe it was your tired baby that had you feeling sorry for yourself-you just wanted to see your friends seal their vows with a kiss in person.
“The drive to the reception area is about 20 minutes,” Yoongi begins to reason, wiping Dae’s tear-stained cheeks in the process, “maybe he’s tired himself out enough to knock out on the way there.”
You rub Dae’s healthy head of wavy locks while he hiccupped the last of his tears away, “I love you son, but please, for the love of God, sleep for mommy,” you coo making your husband laugh.
Call it wishful thinking? A request fallen on deaf ears?
Whatever it was, a peaceful baby was not on your side. Rather, you watched the table you and your family were sitting at dwindle the longer Dae cried. No, he wasn’t fussing anymore. He wasn’t whining. He was screaming in short bursts.
“Honey,” Yoongi was calm, he was always calm and it drove you crazy sometimes, “I don’t think he wants his bottle.”
“I can see that,” you say while making another attempt to press the rubber tip against Dae’s pouted lips, “but I can’t feed him in this dress, I’d have to take it off completely!”
Frustrated. You were frustrated.
Yoongi sighs, rubbing his hand against your shoulder, “let me try-”
Dae challenges the volume between a talking crowd and dinner music, screeching into the air and knocking the bottle clear out of your hand. Milk squirts out of the tip and all over the top part of your emerald green dress, catching the ends of your hair. Yoongi clams his lips together and you can see his cheeks turn pink, “I swear Yoongi if you laugh-”
“Go-” Yoongi takes your son, holding his tiny battering hands into his large one, “I’ll take care of him, just go clean up then find your friends.”
“I’m not leaving-”
“Go enjoy yourself, sweetheart. I’ve got this,” your husband is practically pushing you out of your seat. You get up, heading straight for the bathroom and breathing a breath of relief while tears flood your eyes.
Of all people, your husband knows best. Yoongi understands your frustrations and even more, he knows your limits. Being first-time parents, the challenges felt insurmountable at times. Given a difficult pregnancy, sometimes it felt like life wasn’t fair ever. You both love your son, of course, you love your son. But there were days, like today at your friends’ wedding, that Dae seemed to know when to push your buttons a little harder.
Yoongi continued in a calm timbre, kissing Dae’s hand that was pushing against his cheek while he cried in his father’s arms. He caught the sorry glance from a few of the members as he passed through the dining area, pinching a smile, “you are making us look great, son.”
Dae cries. He pushes against Yoongi’s chest, his neck, and his chin. He wails to the point his cheeks are bright red and prickled with hot tears. Yoongi doesn’t let up, holding his son and even setting him on the ground, keeping his large hands around his son’s stomach. Just let it out, Yoongi thinks to himself. He blinks slowly, using his fingers to clear Dae’s tears now and then.
“You’re sleepy,” he manages to chuckle when Dae starts to soothe beneath his dad’s touch, “stop fighting me.” Dae breathes in short bursts, allowing Yoongi to wipe his nose properly this time. Yoongi grimaces, not having a tissue on him or the baby bag, he wipes the remnants of his son’s tears on the inside of his suit jacket. No one would ever look there.
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An hour or so passes when you search for your husband and Dae. This time, you have a smile on your face despite the faint stain of breast milk splattered across your dress. You were able to spend time with the bride and groom and a few friends (and a couple of glasses of champagne)all thanks to your husband. The dancing had already started, to which you got a few in before missing your baby. Who were you kidding, you missed him the entire time but the temporary separation was nice.
Coming back from the restroom after freshening up, a mellow song was now playing beneath the white canopy. Dusk rolled in and the sky was darkening. The string lights were on and almost everyone was out of their seats, slow dancing on the dance floor. Your search for Yoongi and Dae wasn’t long-you had to bite your lip when you finally spotted them.
A few more moments alone wouldn’t hurt. You stand next to a post, holding your hands together and watching the two greatest loves of your life. Dae was asleep in your husband’s arms while Yoongi moved slowly, swaying from one foot to the other. Back and forth back and forth. Yoongi smiles into a kiss, pressing his thin lips against Dae’s head. Taking his pointer finger to rub against your son’s cheek. You watched his mouth move as he whispered something to your sleeping baby.
“Hey,” you stroke your husband’s back and he turns his head to follow you until you're standing in front of them. His smile is wide, it’s warm and it’s reflective of home. His large hand continues to pat Dae’s bottom while he sleeps in his arms. You peer around, Dae’s chubby cheek pressed and pushed against Yoongi’s shoulder. You kiss his nose before looking back at Yoongi.
“Did you have fun?” Yoongi asks, resting his cheek against Dae’s head, dark eyes sparkling down at you. You almost lose yourself in them, reaching up to run your hand back through his hair. You nod, thanking him with a soft kiss. Yoongi groans against your lips, another smile stealing you away.
“Come here,” Yoongi is pulling you in with one arm before you can say otherwise (not that you would), securing it around your shoulder. You hold him by the waist, one hand resting over Yoongi’s that is held against Dae’s back. He has his entire world in his arms, the three of you slowly moving to the gentle music.
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jtrbluv · 4 months ago
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p.o.v. | myg
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summary: you were eight when you first met your soulmate. then you were eighteen when you realized that the boy who just got hired at the local record store next door, is also your soulmate. the issue at hand: you are the only one that knows.
pairing: yoongi x reader (fem)
genre: fluff, angst, soulmate!au, redstringoffate!au, college!au, high school!au
word count: 17.9k
warnings: PG-15, mentions of divorce, profanity, one year age gap (reader is 18, yoongi is 19), pg-15 food play (is that even a thing), yoongi works at a fucking record store
A/N: well damn. it's the way this is technically not even a week overdue but literally 7 or 8 months overdue... I'm so sry bae @koushiningg! i’d like to thank @allurence , @pjmsdior​ , and @bangtans-peaceful-piegon​ for beta reading!! y’all fr have my whole ass heart. and sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes or mistakes in general, this is unedited!!! 
— playlist.
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You were only eight years old when you discovered Min Yoongi was your soulmate.
Living in a society where love was predestined all thanks to a little red string on your pinky, made you inescapably curious. So from the moment you gained the ability to string words together into coherent sentences, you would press your parents on everything you could about the scarlet thread on your finger, garnering knowledge the more your questions frequented.
Maybe it was the fact that the foundation of where you grew up was constructed around finding “the one” in order to achieve peak happiness. It was absurd. Yet everywhere you looked you were surrounded with proof in the most palpable of forms.
And in the plainest or most kitschy of ways.
Honorable mention could be your older cousin orchestrating the most flashy of proposals—quite literally renting a billboard on one of the busiest highways that read “Honey, I rented a billboard! Meet me back at the Silverlake Hotel for a special surprise! Yes, it’s Johnny. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you.”
Your parents were high school sweethearts—meeting at the tender ages of fifteen and staying attached by the hip ever since.
Your dad was the one who was able to see the string in their case. And he would describe to you how only one person out of the relationship can see it—how it appeared to trail off into a gradient of nothingness—and how the closer he had gotten to your mother, both physically and emotionally, the more visible it was between them. It was only until he had confessed to her that she was able to see the connection between the strings as well.
You took pride in having the ability to visibly see the string for yourself, and being the one to discover who it would be connected to one day. But what you didn’t realize was how soon the discovery was going to be made.
Especially not when you were seven years old, clad in a purple unicorn hoodie littered with sequins and jeans that were embroidered with flowers—your knees scraped and small fingers soiled with sand.
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“Are you okay?!” A small raven-haired boy shouted out, his small legs hastily sprinting to your side after seeing you face-plant into the wet sand.
Your thoughts are intruded as you noticed that the sand had a red thread trailing out the surface and into the air. The red thread emitted a golden sheen that you were able to see despite your hands carrying fistfuls of sand.
The boy that appeared to be around the same age as you was dusting the sand off of your sleeves and pants, dismissing your lack of response and how you were ogling at him with eyes that took up half of your face.
And then his hand brushed against yours.
“What are– ! Who are you?!” You exclaimed, ripping your hand out of his grasp only to gawk at how bright the string was glowing without any sand to obscure it.
“O–oh I’m sorry, you have sand all over you,” he tells you shyly, retracting his hands, as if you didn’t already know. “But my name is Yoongi, Min Yoongi.” He smiled sweetly with an evident gap due to the loss of his two front baby teeth. His small hand outstretched towards you, offering a handshake.
“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You timidly smiled back as you slid your palm into his, shaking his hand while unknowingly transferring all the sand onto it.
After you shake hands he rubs the sand on his pant leg, an adorable giggle escaping his lips as you mutter an nth number of apologies.
“Don’t worry about it!” He beams, his eyes turning back to an older, slender woman with a frown on her face motioning him to come towards her. “Sorry, but I think I should go back to my mom. She’s looking for me.” He said as he began to stand up.
“No, it’s okay! I don’t want you to get in trouble anyway.” You quickly told him as you continued to wipe your hands against your jeans.
He nods with a smile. “I’ll see you around Y/N. It was nice meeting you!” He beams as his little legs start sprinting in the opposite direction— the glow that surrounded the thread fading, the farther he ran.
You frantically waved your arms back and forth, exchanging looks one last time before walking back towards your family with only traces of a smile left on your face.
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Here you are ten years later, still equipped with the same amount of clumsiness and childish outlook as you did when you were eight, except now you were eighteen and about to graduate high school.
You hadn’t forgotten about your soulmate, but the inevitable reality of growing up shifted your mindset—your priorities were centered around applying to colleges and trying to keep your grades up despite having a terrible case of senioritis.
The red string on your finger was serving as a solid reminder that you haven’t seen your soulmate in years and weren’t likely to see him anytime soon.
As the years ticked by, it became harder and harder to recall and visualize his features—as if there was a ticking time bomb in your memory nerves, only a matter of time until all the memories would be blown into bits and you would be left with a shoddy visualization of the boy you once ran into. You wondered if you would even be able to recognize him now if it wasn’t for the fact that you were quite literally, bound together by fate.
Occasionally, out of fear that you would forget his name and his face, you’d set aside time to relive the moment in which you met him ten years ago at a beach that was hundreds of miles away from home and felt light years away from the present. You’d shift into the desired reality where you’d get to come in contact with the boy that had a gentle aura, sweet smile, and kind-hearted actions. You never were able to find men, let alone boys like that these days anyway.
Yet the security of knowing and seeing your soulmate still wasn’t enough for you. As much as fate was able to bind people together by string, there have been many instances where the string, well, was just nothing but a string. Soulmates never finding their other half. Or spending their lives with someone that wasn’t destined to be theirs. Even the rarity that fate makes a mistake and the two predestined lovers just simply don’t click like they’re supposed to.
Even though fate bounded you two together, to what extent was fate willing to go through for your paths to crossover again?
Hint: More than you think.
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You kick a pebble to the side of the road.
Letting out a sigh, you run a hand through your untamed hair, your feet taking you to a destination unbeknownst to you. You just need to get out of the house. Another glance at your sloppily scripted notes would leave your mind spiraling into an even deeper pit of frustration and laziness that you don’t have the energy to pull yourself out of right now.
In other words, you need caffeine.
You take a trip to the local coffee shop you are a regular at. The shop greets you with the soothing aroma of coffee beans—taking a moment to inhale as the scent wafts through the air. To your surprise, you see one of your good friends, Jisung, at the register. He’s in the middle of taking someone’s order until he gives you a sideways glance, having a double-take and waving to you after the customer finishes paying.
“Someone’s having a rough week, aren’t they?” He says under his breath, brows shooting upward as his eyes trail up and down your disheveled state.
You cross your arms, the cinch between your brows that hasn’t seemed to fade ever since the start of finals week deepening, “And somehow you aren’t because…”
“I’m smart and only took the classes required to graduate,” he reminds you, “the only final I'm concerned about is my dance final.”
“Well, lucky you,” your words trailing off as your eyes bore holes through the glass cabinet filled with an array of your favorite desserts. Maybe if you stare long enough, the glass will vanish and you can swipe a meringue without anybody noticing.
He smiles at your dismissive behavior. Your decision to make most of your schedule advanced placement and honors classes never boded well with him to begin with. He had warned you countless times about your demanding course load and how it was going to bite you in the ass later on. You both knew that he was right, but you also both knew that you weren't going to do anything about it. Per usual, Y/N.
“The usual?” He asks.
You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets to scrounge for your wallet, “Give me an extra shot of espresso.” You add.
He halts as soon as the words hit his ears, setting your cup down on the counter and turning back towards you with a quizzical look on his face, “Only if you don’t pull another all-nighter.”
“I swear I won’t!” you exclaim in an attempt to reason with him but to no avail, “I just need a little pick me up, because sadly, as much as I’d wanna pull another all-nighter, my body can’t take it.”
The crease of his brows deepen even more until he eventually relents— noticing the way your eyes are nearly half-shut and the bags are about ten shades darker than their usual tone, your shoulders slouched in your jacket that was already five sizes too big, “Alright, but I only believe you ‘cause you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
“A day and a half.” You correct.
“And a whopping five espresso shots later. And to think you call me the insane one.” He scoffs. You can almost hear the pout on his face if he wasn’t preoccupied with the espresso machine.
You let out a yawn, far too tired to banter with him right now. There was always plenty of time for that anyway. “Fine. We are both insane, actually no I think ‘stupid’ is a better word to tack on there, hence why we’re friends.”
He twirls around with a grin on his face, holding your drink in his hand as he places it on the counter. He's been only putting four shots of espresso the entire time he’s been making these drinks for you just because he doesn’t want to see the jittery aftermath and sudden caffeine crash that he knew could potentially occur. “Hey, it only took you three years to admit it.”
You roll your eyes, giving him a swat on the shoulder that he dodges, “Yeah, yeah… but hey, when are you getting out of here anyway?”
“I’m working a closing shift so I still have another hour left. Don’t worry about me, go home and finish up so you can rest. You have econ tomorrow right?” He asks while closing a lid onto your drink.
You sigh, more than ever wanting to slam your head against the counter, but you digress, “Yeah.”
“You’ll be just fine. Now c’mon get outta here and go back home.” He says while sliding your drink towards you and nudging you towards the exit.
“But I haven’t paid?”
“On the house.”
You set your drink down with a frown. “Han, no.”
He laughs. “Why not?”
“You already give me your employee discount every time I come here, just take my money.” You spit, shoving your dollar bills into his chest.
He giggles at your frustration, standing grounded despite you punching money into his pecs. God, this boy really needed to stop spending his days only dancing or going to the gym. “But I don’t want your money.”
You audibly sigh, not having a single ounce of energy to be arguing with him right now, but you yelp in exasperation, “Jisung!”
“Y/N!” He mimics your pleading tone in an obnoxious high-pitched voice that was octaves higher than your actual one, your hand plopping to the counter in defeat.
You grab his wrist, forcing his fingers open as you slap the bills into his palm and close his hand into a fist. You swiftly grab your drink and run out the door, momentarily pausing to peek your head through the door and yelling a “Thank you! Love you!” before scurrying out, fumbling with your coffee in the process.
He stares at the door incredulously long after you leave the premises, shrugging and shoving the money into the pocket of his apron.
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Your hands are wrapped tightly around the cardboard cup, clutching it close to your chest in hopes that the heat would emanate to the rest of your body as you continue to drag your feet along the bustling sidewalk.
A few stores down from the coffee shop is the record store that’s had its doors open for as long as you can remember. Memories of the adorable elderly couple who always greeted you replay in your mind as you step foot inside.
It always personally irked you that you rarely purchased anything while you were there. One of the main reasons besides the most obvious one: not being able to just buy one, is the fact that you didn’t even own a record player to begin with. And displaying it on your walls like some wannabe ’pinterest indie grunge 90s aesthetic’ inspired room (which you would definitely have if you weren’t broke™️) was out of the question, because having only two vinyls on your wall is very much lame yet very much something you would do.
As if on cue, your legs involuntarily take you to the first table that’s right behind the door— which you have grown to remember is always full of their latest shipments and newest presses. You always made a mental checklist of the records that you would consider buying in the future once you had the money for them. The list is embarrassingly long to the point where you’ve sadly had to make a note on your phone reserved just for the occasion.
Your eyes are practically glued to the Selena album that sits in the box that you don’t notice the man trying to greet you.
“Um, excuse me miss, hi, are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Oh, I was jus—“
You freeze dead in your tracks— the record you were holding in your hand dropping back inside the shelf with a thud. The string on your finger is gleaming brightly as ever. It’s striking. It’s blinding.
And it’s directly connected to the pinky of the man standing right in front of you.
It takes you a few seconds to register that you look positively perturbed, and that the only justification you have, isn’t good enough because of course, he can’t see the string. Your jaw is practically down to your knees, blinking vehemently at the man that was standing still with a polite smile on his face, your eyelashes could probably counteract as a fan. It can’t be. Maybe if you blink fast enough he’ll just disappear.
Never mind, he’s still here.
No, there’s just no way.
Surely, there’s no way my soulmate is standing in front of me. Again.
Coughing into your sleeve, you barely manage to slip out, “I’mjustlookingaroundbutthankyou!” You say, the words coming out all at once, as you take a moment to gasp for air.
He chuckles softly, the distinct and unfamiliar noise akin to dripping saccharine to your ears, “Alright, just let me know if you need anything, I’ll be back there.” He says while cocking his head towards the register.
You nod as he starts to make his way back behind the counter. You slowly turn back towards the shelf, mentally giving yourself a nice big slap to the cheek acting like that after finally seeing your soulmate after ten years.
Ten years… oh my god.
Pretending to flip through more records, you start to converse with yourself in your head, trying to formulate a plan as to what your next move should be.
Now, the smart and most obvious thing would be just straightforwardly telling him that you two are soulmates and that you can see the string connected between the two of you.
But you are not smart nor good at befriending strangers.
You swallow down some of the anxiety in your throat, grabbing the Musiq Soulchild record that just so happened to graze your fingertips. You’re nearly tiptoeing to the register, the man looking up at you with a smile as you timidly place the record on the counter and slide it towards him.
“Musiq Soulchild, good taste.” He says, smiling as he exchanged a delayed glance between you and the record.
“I appreciate it.” You manage to whisper, staring down at your untied shoelace.
He scans the record as you whip out your wallet and look for your card. If you were correct, you had enough money to pay for the record, and by the record means just the record alone.
In hindsight, you would know better than to buy, sorry scratch that, go bankrupt for materialistic things just because there was an attractive guy as a cashier. Luckily, you had the justification of this particular guy being your soulmate so the whole act wasn't that lame. Even for you.
The radio silence isn't deafening thanks to the soft 80s rock humming in the background. Your head naturally bobs along to the beat of the familiar Tears for Fears song that your dad used to play in the car all the time. The tune alone isn’t able to rip you out of your thoughts as you watch the hands of the man in front of you drumming his fingers on the counter to the rhythm of the song.
His hands, are gorgeous. Dare you say the prettiest hands you’ve probably ever come across on a man.
Y/N. Stop it.
The thought of you coming back to the shop only to "coincidentally" run into your soulmate sounded ludicrous—your wallet already screaming at you and your mind wracking itself just to come up with conversation starters. Since your time was running out and his unprecedented presence here is piquing your interest anyway, you say,
"I don't think I've ever seen you here before."
His fingers pause on the counter, his head perking up, "Oh yeah, I just got hired here last week."
"O-oh that's cool," you stutter, stumbling on your words and struggling to sustain the flow of conversation. He smiles at you while he rings you up.
"Are you from around here?" He asks.
You nod, "Yeah, I've known this place for as long as I can remember. I guess Mr. and Mrs. Yang needed some extra help around the shop. You're the first person to be employed under them."
He hums, "They told me that when I got hired, I guess there's been an influx of vinyl purchases lately and they've been expanding their inventory. They thought they could use some extra help." He informs you while sliding you the receipt—carefully bagging the record with his lip tucked in his mouth. Cute.
Picking up the receipt, your eyes immediately scan for a name, specifically the one of the man ringing you up, "Ah, that makes a lot more sense.” Aha! Got it.
Cashier: Yoongi
You can’t even stop the words that come out of your mouth next, “Oh, fuck.”
His head shoots up, “Sorry?”
You snap your mouth shut, “Oh, nothing! Do you happen to live around here by any chance? I don't think I've seen you around this area before."
He shakes his head, some of the ebony strands of his hair falling into his eyelashes, "I moved here in the fall for college actually. I've been meaning to get a job but I wanted to get adjusted to school a couple of months before trying to branch out."
"Wow, that sounds so exciting, congrats!"
Thank God I just turned legal.
It took nearly all your willpower to keep your eyes off of the suffused piece of string and the way it swayed along with his hand movements. Instead, you let your eyes focus on the curve of his lips and the pink flesh of his smile. Just merely looking at him made you feel effervescent—as carefree and light on your feet as the child you once used to be. The same one that genuinely believed they had a shot with Zac Efron when they were younger. And the same child that had their feet frolicking against the sands and their eyes looking past the limitless blue water—running into a boy with a youthful grin but manners beyond his age, and droopy eyes that haven't changed since you first saw him.
He slides you your bagged record. You look up at him to see the apples of his cheeks raised into an endearing close-mouthed grin. You mumble a small 'thank you' and turn around to exit the shop before he stops you,
"Wait, I don't think I caught your name?"
An enormous lump builds in your throat. After all this time, you've managed to remember his name for the sake of already knowing that he was your soulmate, but what about him?
"I–I'm Y/N."
"Well, hi Y/N. I'm Min Yoongi, but you can just call me Yoongi."
You nod, clutching the record even closer to your body as you smile at him in acknowledgement. "It's been nice to meet you Yoongi, I hope you like it around here."
He leans over the counter, resting his forearms on the wooden surface as he speaks, "I'm not too worried about that," his grin widens as he takes in your stunned expression, "see you around Y/N, take care."
"You too, Yoongi," you reply with a small smile, turning back around to exit the shop with an empty wallet but a content heart with flushed cheeks to match.
"Was that Y/N?" Mrs. Yang asks as she leans against the doorframe to the break room.
Yoongi grabs a couple of boxes to the front of the store to organize, turning around to face Mrs.Yang, "Yes, it was, she just stopped by to pick up a record."
"Y/N bought something?"
He pauses to turn around to his boss, "Yes ma’am, she just bought one right now."
“Wow, that’s a first.”
The box he had just nearly slips out of his arms, but he manages to lift his leg up to support the base. His brows scrunch in confusion, reflecting back on you telling him that you’re an avid visitor of the store, “Ah, really? She was telling me how she comes to the store all the time.”
"That is true, she’s stopped by all the time ever since she was young. She just never buys anything when she comes here," Mrs. Yang chuckles, fondly looking back at all the times where you would casually stroll in just to routinely talk to the couple and go on about your day without purchasing anything. They never minded it of course, always treating you as one of their own and even offering you meals at times.
"Oh, I see," he drags out the syllable—the cinch in his brows dissipates the longer his eyes drift towards the exit.
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Acquiring five hours of sleep is considered a feat to you. A trivial feat but a feat nonetheless. The duration of your R.E.M. would’ve been longer if it wasn’t for the thought of your soulmate keeping you awake. The fact that this fate-driven world could methodically bring you two together like this was something you wouldn’t have ever fathomed. At least not outside of the universe formulated by your deepest desires or the stories of other people’s firsthand experiences.
As much as the expectancy of being with your soulmate was so close within reach—nothing a few minutes of light jogging and a little sip of courage couldn’t withstand, you know you had many commitments you had to stay dutiful towards. You knew yourself enough to grasp that if you were to let your mind wander off towards everything of importance to you, you weren’t going to get anywhere or get anything done.
Most times, your self-control and habitual tendencies would swallow you whole—your heart’s voice speaking volumes louder than your mind. Your interaction with Yoongi caused your heart to transport back ten years in time, where you were able to mature quicker in the realm of romance than most of your peers.
The nights where you would go to bed thinking of him and wake up with the same visions of him corrupting your thoughts, were something you grew to gain control over as you aged.
After years’ worth of a hiatus, you dream of him again that night.
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With one final down and more left to go, you head off to your local library after school to get some more work done.
You stop by at the coffee shop first—needing your daily caffeine intake to get you through the rest of the day. You don’t see Jisung there, but you quickly rewind back to the morning when he had told you he was going to practice his dance final after school. So with a cup of coffee in one hand and a backpack strap in another, you retreat to the first empty table you see.
Laying all your belongings flat on the table, you slump in the wooden chair—your head rolling back and hitting the top of the backrest. You look fixedly at the ceiling, trying to outline your game plan of how you were going to tackle your schoolwork today. If you didn’t adhere to it (which you usually didn’t), at least you can say that you thought about it.
You let your eyes flutter shut, basking in the stillness of the moment and the lack of brainpower you weren’t being required to use.
“Y/N?”
You jerk in your seat, your knee striking against the edge of the table as your eyes shoot open only to see the last person you wanted to bump into. His face is hovering a couple of feet above yours as he’s standing right next to you. His close-lipped smile is the only thing that envelops your vision for a few seconds before you tear your gaze away, your cheeks turning embarrassingly hot.
You don’t even hear him asking if you’re okay, the voices in your head yelling louder and the pain in your knee growing substantially as the seconds pass. You can already envision the big barney-like purple splotch that was going to be there.
“Yoongi? What are you doing here?” You blurt out, wincing at the obvious question considering the fact that he too, is a student and can go to the library whenever he pleases.
“I have midterms this week, and the library at my school is packed,” he says, widening the distance between you two as he moves into your field of vision once more, “is it okay if I sit here?” He asks while pointing to the chair across from you.
“Of course.” You quickly respond, rubbing at the spot where you hit your knee while trying not to noticeably grimace in pain.
He sits down across from you, starting to take his belongings out of his bag and setting them on the table. “Sorry for scaring you, I didn’t mean to.”
You chuckle nervously, running a shaky hand through your hair, “It’s okay, I should be studying now anyway.”
He nods in return, giving you a small grin before proceeding to his own work.
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You’ve been staring at your laptop screen for half an hour now. Hoping that maybe if you stared long enough, the words would just magically materialize onto the empty word doc.
You purposely remained slumped in your chair, letting your screen obscure the view of his face so you could only see his eyes up to the strands of his tousled hair.
It wasn’t the first time you were forced to write an essay on a book you’ve never bothered to lay an eye on. Yet it was the first time doing so with your soulmate sitting right in front of you—your focus meter depleting rapidly as you continued to sneak glances at the top of his head.
After minutes of reading chapter summaries and trying to pick the best quotes that would correlate to the essay prompt, you sit back in the chair, taking a long sip of your coffee.
As you lean down to place your cup back on the table, you sideways glance at the man to see him yawning into his sleeve. He sniffles, the tip of his nose slightly pink as he blinks hard before proceeding to type on his laptop once more.
“Do you want some?”
“Hm?” His head peeps from the screen, his eyes peering towards you before glancing at the cup in your hand.
“Some of my coffee.” You reiterate, sliding the cup towards him.
He hesitates, his focus flickering back between you and the cup, “Are you sure?”
“I insist,” you assert, sliding the cup even closer to him, “We all need our caffeine.”
He chuckles, nodding in thanks to you before taking the cup into his hands and sipping into the contents. “This is really good.”
“It’s actually from that one place that’s a few doors down from the record store.”
“Ah, I’ve been meaning to try from there, but I just haven’t gotten the chance to.”
“I go there all the time, I’ll gladly vouch for the place.” You tell him as you step back to your seat.
He lowers his screen slightly, forcing you to see the entirety of his face— your focus meter blown to smithereens. “I guess you just happened to catch me on a rare day without coffee. I swear at this point, coffee is preeminent to water.”
Chuckling at his remark, you lower your screen as well, “Coffee is fucking amazing. I probably would've been knocked out cold by now if you hadn’t scared me.”
He scrunches his nose and you swear you almost audibly squeak at just how adorable he is, “I still feel bad for that, but I figured you would’ve been more mad if you knew that I just let you fall asleep there.”
“Well yeah, you’re not wrong about that.” You admit. You can hear him laughing on his end so you look up— the corners of his eyes are crinkled up and his gums are on full display. His shoulders are shaking as laughter escapes his lips. He’s beautiful. You can’t help but laugh along with him.
As your laughter fades, you sigh, “At this rate, I’m not going to get anything done. But is it bad that I'm not mad about it?”
“What grade are you in?”
“I’m a senior. I just turned eighteen.” Of course, you’d make that clear.
He hums in acknowledgement, “As much as I’d want to encourage you and tell you to keep going, it’d be hypocritical of me. If high school procrastination is harmful, then senioritis is just a lethal force of nature.”
You huff, “I couldn’t have said it any better than that.”
He fumbles with his jacket zipper, clearing his throat, “Do you need any help?”
“No, it’s alright. I know what I need to do… I just don’t feel like doing it.” You admit sheepishly.
He nods, his fingers start to drum in the table before he says, “Just take a nap then.”
A cinch forms in between your brows. “A nap? Here?”
“Yeah, I can wake you up,” he says nonchalantly.
You laugh at the thought of you potentially drooling all over the public desk, “I think I can manage without one.”
He clicks his tongue, his head tilting to the side, “It’s just a nap Y/N, it won’t hurt you.”
A nap does sound good. Especially after hearing him suggest it after saying your name. “I mean I guess, but I’ll only take like ten minut–”
“Y/N, cut yourself some slack. I can sense sleep deprivation when I see it.”
You gasp exaggeratedly, in mock offense. You hope he doesn’t sense the indication of worry there too because, shit, did you actually look as tired as you feel? “Wow, thanks.”
He chuckles, forcing another smile to come out of you, “The only two times I’ve seen you, you’ve had a coffee in your hand.”
“Well, maybe I just like coffee.” You quip. Okay, the eye bags aren’t that brutal today, thank God.
“And you just admitted to me that you almost fell asleep, but I woke you up.” Fuck I did, didn’t I.
You exhale deeply, raising your hands in defeat and surrender, “Fine Mr. Alarm Clock, choose a duration.”
“An hour.”
“An hour?” You stare at him incredulously as he smiles at your uptightness. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting here.”
“I was planning on being here all day anyway, it’s okay.” He reassures you.
“Fine,” you relent, “half an hour.”
“An hour.” He counters.
“Forty-five.”
“Deal.” He smiles. “I’ll wake you up in forty-five.”
You frown at him, using all your might not to smile at the way he was looking at you right now. With a deep sigh, you shut your laptop, scooting it to the side and crossing your arms on top of the desk. Shaking your head in dismay, you look back at Yoongi one last time.
“Forty-five,” he coos. You stick your tongue at him before placing your head in the nest you created with your arms, quickly drifting off to dreamland.
I don’t need to tell you what I was dreaming about, you probably know by now, you pricks.
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“Y/N.”
“Y/N.”
“Y/N.”
“Y/N. Wake up.”
Yoongi’s been trying to wake you up for four minutes now. His futile attempts at a hushed whisper yell are starting to piss off the people at the tables around you. He stills in his actions for a moment, not wanting to inconvenience anybody any longer.
Standing up, he leans down and reaches across the table, softly tapping on your sleeve, “Y/N.”
You groan, sliding your arm away from his touch as you fall back asleep once more. He sighs, looking languidly at the top of your head, considering another way to wake you up. But he refrains and taps your arm once again, not pausing this time. “Y/N, come on.”
“Hmph…” you groan into the fabric of your sleeve, your head slowly rising as you attempt to rub the sleep from your eyes. “Mmstop…” You mumble into your sleeve, squirming under the constant tapping on your forearm.
Your head shoots up from the crook of your elbow, your eyes still closed shut, “What?!” You retort loudly, the man sitting in front of you doesn’t react in the slightest as a chorus of shushes are all made towards you. You scratch your head, curling into yourself at the realization of what you had just done,
“Sorry, everyone.”
He blinks. “You’re awake.”
“I am.” You mumble softly, straightening yourself in your seat. It would be a lie if you were to say that you aren’t slightly alarmed to have his face be the first thing you see when you wake up. Then you soon remember that he had advised you to take a nap, in which you complied.
You’re far too drowsy to notice the way his eyes have been fixated on you this whole time, and it’s probably better that way. “Do you feel better?”
You nod, “I do.”
And with that, his lips curl into another close-lipped grin. “Go finish your essay so you can head home and sleep.” He advises, but by the way his mouth stretches into a big yawn afterwards, it seems like he’s in dire need of sleep more than you.
“Alright,” you reply monotonously, opening your laptop screen, the sudden brightness making you flinch, “only because you said so.”
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Hours pass by a lot quicker than you account for. Picking up your phone in what felt like potentially half an hour but realizing that nearly that plus a whole two hours had ticked by.
All you could clearly recall was at one point, you decided that you were in critical need to purge out the thoughts inside your head about the man sitting across from you. You were so inwardly embarrassed to be ogling over the man who was just minding his own goddamn business. After minutes of fumbling through your bag to find your earphones, and additional minutes just to untangle the mess itself, you narrowly succeed.
It was tremendously difficult for you to stay in work mode when your mind was in complete disarray. You’ve barely been given time to process that your soulmate is once again back in your life—not just for a scant amount of time that only allowed for the exchange of names, not without a single clue of where their whereabouts are, and not without knowing what they look like all this time. You had all this information now, along with the maturity and ability to solidify this interconnection once and for all. Yet your inner diffidence and unease hindered you from having the confidence to reveal yourself to him.
You told yourself you were going to work up to it.
Eventually.
He inhales through clenched teeth, “Crap, sorry for drinking so much of your coffee.” He says as he clinks the cardboard cup on the table, the lack of swishing insinuating that there was nothing inside.
You wave a hand dismissively, “No, don’t worry about it. You made me take a nap anyway, you need it more than I do.”
His lips twitch into a lopsided smile, conveying that he still felt bad regardless, “Have you made any progress?”
“Yes, actually. I finished that stupid essay and now I’m just studying for another final. You?”
“Just working on a thesis paper that I had two months to work on, so the usual.” He chuckles dryly.
You grimace at the thought of the situation, knowing that you have been in that same predicament far too many times, “That sounds rough, I hope you can finish it soon.”
He snickers, “Shit, I hope I can too.”
You can’t help but laugh at the comical expression that paints across his face— yet the sound of him swearing in that husky, subdued voice of his causes a pang in your chest.
“Are you heading out soon?” You ask as you slowly shut your laptop.
He leans back in his seat, “Probably, or else I might end up passing out on this table too.”
“See, I am not the only sleep-deprived student in this world, Yoongi.”
“I never said you were Y/N, knowing myself, I’m probably worse than you.” He assures you, clicking away at his keyboard.
As you start to pack, you notice him examining the label on the cup before throwing the empty contents into a nearby trash can, swiftly making it in one go. “We might not know each other that well, but if it was up to us, the whole education system would be abolished,” you say.
What you don’t notice is how his focus immediately zeroes in on you after saying that. His eyes conveying an unreadable expression along with the slight quirk of his lip and brow that have you frozen stuck in your seat.
“Hm?” You squeak.
“You flatter me Y/N.”
You sputter at his words. “Uh—“
“What the hell, are you psychic or something?” He teases, cutting through the one-sided tension with a hearty laugh.
You manage to hide your surprise, reciprocating the laughter while trying to reply back with another rhetorical question, “Would you even believe me if I said yes?”
“For the sake of us just meeting, I will not answer that.” He replies, receiving an audible gasp on your end which makes him fold over even more.
You roll your eyes playfully, chomping down on your bottom lip to stop the smile that threatens to split your face in half. At last you stand up, slinging a backpack strap over your shoulder, “Okay, I think I’ll head out now.”
He nods, tending to his own belongings, “Are you driving home?”
“Oh no, I live like a ten minute walk away from here.” You inform him.
“But it’s pretty dark out right now,” he halts in his actions, his head turning towards the window as it clearly displays the lack of sunlight replaced by a navy sky, “I can take you home if you want.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s okay, I don’t wanna be a bother.”
“I think it would bother me more if I knew that something were to happen to you,” he counters, shutting his laptop and turning towards you.
You open your mouth to respond but are unable to formulate a rebuttal. His eyes soften as he takes in your lack of reply, voice going softer than usual, which was already soft to begin with. Why did he feel this sense to be protective over you? He just met you, didn’t he? “I won’t push you if you don’t want to. I don’t know why but… have we ever met before?” he asks while scratching the back of his ear.
“I—,” You can’t tell him the truth. At least not now. And so you don’t, “I’m not sure we have.”
He nods, “Hm, alright.”
“You can take me home.” You suddenly blurt out.
His brows shoot up in surprise, “What?”
You chuckle nervously, smiling in hopes that you appear less suspicious, “You can take me home,” you reiterate for both him and yourself.
“O-oh alright,” he stammers, standing up from his seat.
You follow him out of the library, keeping a safe arms distance away so he wouldn’t see the way your face was getting hot. You tap on your phone, pressing at the blank screen to emulate as if you were texting someone to avoid awkwardness and forced conversation. It wasn’t helping in your case but at least you could look a tad bit less insane.
He lets you into his car, asking you for your address so he could find the directions. His car smelled of pine and men’s cologne. It was very pleasant and not at all pungent like others you have encountered in the past. Before leaving, he fishes through his center console, pulling out his aux cord and offering it to you.
Bewildered is an understatement. To be in a car of someone that you barely know, let alone just met yesterday, and you’re being handed the aux? The amount of trust that runs through the notion is much deeper than one would assume, or at least that’s what you always perceived it as.
You point at yourself questioningly. “Me? Are you sure?”
He smiles, nodding and placing the cord in your lap. “I trust that you have good taste.”
“I am honored you think so for working at a record store.”
He smiles again. The same shy one that causes him to turn away most of the time from what you’ve noticed. You almost want to grab his face and turn it around just to see it. “I won’t judge, you can play whatever you want.” He says, turning away as he starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot.
Obviously, you care. Plugging the cord into your phone, you begin to scroll through all your music, trying to find a playlist that you think would most match his musical preferences. After realizing that you were almost at your house, you quickly tap a song on your playlist for winding down.
His finger taps the steering wheel at the sound of the song starting, “Giveon?”
Good choice, Y/N. “Yeah.”
“See, I knew you had good taste.”
Your lips quirk up into a grin, “I’m happy you think so.”
The two of you sit in silence for the rest of the ride home. Coincidentally, the song comes to an end as he pulls up in front of your house.
You step out of his car, turning towards him before shutting the door, “Thanks for taking me home.”
He shakes his head. “It’s the least I can do for drinking all your coffee.”
You roll your eyes, smiling at him, “I told you it’s fine, all that matters is that it got drunk in the first place.”
“Whatever you say,” he huffs, “you should probably get inside, I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
You nod, turning back to glance at your house before turning back to him, “Alright, I will. Thanks again Yoongi, drive safe.”
“Will do, goodnight Y/N.”
“Goodnight.” You say as you shut the door and wave through the window, trying your hardest not to look at the glowing string. He waves back before retracting his focus back to his steering wheel. You watch him drive off before going inside your house.
As you get yourself ready for bed, your mind is constantly bombarded with thoughts of your soulmate and nothing else. You go to bed once more with a new and unfamiliar warmth brewing deep inside your chest.
You dream of him again that night.
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It had been awhile since you were able to have such good sleep. You rarely used the term ‘slept like a baby’ because frankly, you couldn’t relate. But last night was the closest sleep you had gotten akin to the phrase.
Pushing past through yet another final and being exempted from the other could equate to a not shitty day for you. Because of the progress you were able to make in terms of your studying (besides the fact that you spent half of your day with your soulmate), you make your way back to the library again in hopes of having another productive day.
Being the hopeless romantic you are, you had a sliver of hope, just a little that maybe he would come back here to work alongside you once again.
After an hour of sitting by yourself, you came to the conclusion that you were being way too optimistic about the coincidence.
With your hardest final being tomorrow, a subject in which you sorely wished you had never enrolled in, also cause of many migraines and frustrated tears, Calculus— you decide to get started on it since you knew it was going to be the most labor-intensive.
You’re nearly about to rip the hairs out of your head from staring at your math teacher’s crappy explanations and poorly drawn graphs until someone’s jacket swipes against your chair. Two cups are set down in front of you as a man drops his backpack to the floor and plops onto his seat across from you, slightly out of breath and hair sticking to his forehead.
Your eyes widen, smiling at the sudden realization of who was sitting in front of you, “Yoongi?”
“Hi, sorry, I went to go grab us some coffee,” he says while sliding a cup towards you.
“Wha— Yoongi you didn’t have to.” You tell him, the action alone almost literally brought tears to your eyes. It was so sweet. A boy just bought you coffee. And at small observation, it was your exact order to a T, too.
He shrugs, his lips pressed in a line, “But I wanted to.”
The gesture makes you speechless. He’s standing there with the smallest of smiles, a cardboard cup in his hand and the thread shimmering like a slinky between the two of your figures. Your chest heaves at the pure sight in front of you, rising and sinking before spitting out, “I— thank you.”
“It’s nothing, really.” He dismisses with a shake of his head, sounding like he just checked a box off his grocery list. But his gaze flickers to every spot in the library besides wherever you were, wanting to hide the way his face was turning completely flush. He hated how his face could convey so much about him even after trying to uphold a stoic attitude most of the time. Being with you had to be the most he’s ever struggled with in terms of this issue, though.
You’re willing away the instinctive notion to gawk at him like he was holding out an elixir that would add plus twenty years to your lifespan. Even though he was holding out a cardboard cup of plain coffee that probably cost him some spare pocket change.
He decides to occupy himself by setting down his belongings while avoiding your lingering gaze.
You were terrible at the art of subtlety.
But he thought it was so goddamn cute.
“What are you smiling at?” You speak up. He had been unknowingly grinning at his Business Law and Ethics textbook like a complete fool. Oh God.
Clearing his throat, he faux coughs into his sleeve to hide the hot pink tint that was decorating the apples of his cheeks. “T-this coffee… tastes really good.”
You let out a small chuckle as he swipes the cup off the table and begins to down the contents of the cup like he’d been deprived of liquids for the past week.
Damn it, you’re so cute.
His lips detach from the cup as he blurts out with his eyes wide, “I’m so… what?”
Your eyes mirror his, widening at the realization that you just said he was cute, out loud. Before you know it, your hand reaches out to snatch your coffee, taking one long swig before setting it down on the table with a thunk.
“I mean the coffee– like the packaging!”
His brows furrowed together, making you want to almost groan in exasperation for his need to mock you. There is definitely not anything rather special, or cute even, about a cardboard cup. “Wait, what about the packaging?”
“It’s biodegradable and… nice-looking.”
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With the two of you frequenting the local library in the middle of finals season, many people seemed to have the same idea of studying here as well.
The most likely underpaid librarian is far too engrossed in her own recreational reading to try to settle the commotion of all the students in the library. And it just so happens that the children’s tutoring program had started its hours as well.
The noises were starting to overpower the lo-fi beats you had been routinely blasting into your ears, and it was beginning to get really hard to focus. Looking up at the man sitting in front of you, you could infer that he was struggling as well— fiddling with the empty coffee cup at his hand as he stared off at the children sitting at their miniature-sized desks and missing the lines of their coloring pages.
If you were mistaken, you can make out a lot of peers from school, and in all honesty, you did not want to be seen by them right now. Small talk was never really your forte anyway.
“Hey.”
Yoongi’s focus shifts to you with a raise of a brow.
“I think I might head home early, it’ll probably be easier for me to work there.” You tell him, already feeling the fragments of guilt poking at you since he already had the predetermined plan of meeting you here. And even buying you a coffee and remembering your exact order above all.
“I’ll make it up to you by buying you coffee next time, I swear.” You laugh off to relieve some of the guilt that was still eating away at you.
“Nah, it’s not needed. I was thinking of heading to my school‘s library in a bit anyway.” He responds with a deep sigh and visible fatigue in his features.
You stand there wordlessly, feet unwilling to move from their current spot, the guilt quite literally eating away at your ability to walk all of a sudden.
“Y/N.”
He snaps you out of your statued reverie. “What?”
He crosses his arms, “It’s fine I promise, don’t worry about it.”
Slouching, you slither your way back down to the seat, “No, I feel so bad.”
“But what did I do?” He smiles, the sound that comes out of his lips a little hesitant and akin to a chuckle but sounded more like he was trying to get a hairball out of his throat. You smile back.
“Nothing.” That’s the problem.
Jutting out his bottom lip in concentration, he sets his arms on the table to direct his focus towards you, “Okay, why don’t you just come with me then?”
You point at yourself, as if he was directing his question to someone else other than you. “Am I allowed to come in there with you?”
He nods easily, giving you the presumption that you were far too worried about it, “They don’t manage who comes in and out of there anyway. And you can pass as a college student.”
“Well, I hope I do. I’m literally going to be there in like a few months.” You note, because other than the piles of schoolwork all your teachers assign and the near lucid dreams about the boy sitting in front of you, college was another topic of interest that took up a lot of real estate in your mind.
“That’s true. Let’s head out then.”
You two leisurely vacate from the commotion of the library, hopping into Yoongi’s car and dipping before the parking lot becomes more filled.
The car ride had the same comfortable silence it had the first time. He handed you the AUX with the simple instructions of ‘Just play something that won’t put us to sleep.’ with a long yawn at the end to top it off.
And so you turned on the playlist that you prepared for the event of when you could finally drive on your own and blast whatever the hell music you wanted.
You can see his cute head bobbing to the rhythm as he continued to drive, and so you forced yourself to look away and lean against the window. The vibration of the bass against your cheekbone was the only thing keeping you from conking out entirely.
He pulls into the parking lot, and you finally sit up—taking a moment to scan the university and its rather large campus. If you thought the library parking lot was full then your eyes must have been undermining themselves because there was such a sparse amount of parking spots, you weren’t even sure how Yoongi managed to find one so quickly.
Catching sight of all the students roaming the streets, you begin to partake in your people-watching habits. One thing you could clearly detect was the bustle and hastened pace of the students, probably rushing to crash in their dorms or their next class or to snatch a free table at the library.
“Are you sure I can just go to the library here?” You ask him once more as you step out into the chilly spring breeze.
He leans against the car door, talking to you over the roof of his car, “There’s so many people that go here, I’m telling you they won’t notice.”
“What if I stick out?” You argue, a very shitty argument may you say.
He laughs, raising a brow at you, “Do you want to stick out?”
“I want to be practically invisible.” You joke, except you’re not quite sure if it’s really a joke after all.
“Alright,” he leans down to open his car, getting something that you can’t quite see out of the backseat. “Put this on.”
He throws the undisclosed object to you, and you bear hug it in midair to catch it. You unfold the wrinkled fabric in your hands, and read the big, imprinted letters of the university on the front of the sweatshirt.
“See. Now you’ll look more like a student than half the people that actually go here.” He says with a smirk.
You roll your eyes, setting your backpack down to slip the sweatshirt on. Pausing halfway, your face is buried in the thick fabric when the sweet scent of his cologne hits your nose. Dismissing it, you pull the rest of the sweatshirt onto your body—the sleeves were far past your hands, the hem reaching the middle of your thighs. Throwing the hood over your head, your eyes land on the red string on your finger that has implacably maintained its glimmer.
Looking up from your hands, you notice Yoongi’s eyes shift quickly to avoid yours. He presses a button to crack open his trunk, grabbing his belongings out before reaching out to shut it close.
“Pause, is that a guitar case?” You point out before he can shut the door.
“Oh,” he blurts out, almost forgetting that he had it in there, “Yeah, it is.”
Your eyes remained on the black case, amazed at the sight like you’ve never seen one before, “You play guitar?”
“A little.” He replies reservedly, a tint of pink spreading across his cheekbones.
“Can I hear you play one of these days? I have a feeling you're bluffing.” Your eyes narrow, trying to milk the true talent of this mysterious man out of him. You don’t know him too well, almost not at all, but you could guess that he has a lot of love for music.
He smirks, shutting the trunk close before leaning on it, “And why would I bluff?
“I highly doubt you just have a whole guitar in your car that you only play ‘a little’ of.” You assert, mocking his tone by making your voice go several octaves lower. His lips stretch into a grin, tucking his lips into his mouth to withhold the laughter that was about to seep out of his lips.
Walking through the campus, you stay closer to his side; in case of the situation that you would get lost in the crowd with a bunch of people you didn’t know at a place you have never stepped foot in until now.
“You look like one of those Harry Potter things.” He states without looking in your direction.
You glance towards him, brows scrunched in thought, “Dementors?”
“Yeah, those. I can’t even see your face and you’re looking at me. I think.” He teases while leaning down to meet you at eye level. You scrunch your face in disapproval, and he mirrors your face exactly—scrunching his nose and puffing up his cheeks before you two lose it and break out into laughter.
“I probably look two feet shorter with this on.”
“You do.”
“Hey!” You gasp, feigning and exaggerating the anger in your tone. You cross your arms, your hands still enveloped in the fabric and nowhere to be seen as you trudge your way besides the boy.
After so much walking, you two finally make it into the library.
The building was bustling with students, all clad in sweatpants and solemn expressions to express the mutual disdain they all carry for finals week. And you realize you are one and the same.
The library is quite big, standing at around four stories from what you can observe, with plenty of books and supplies along with plenty of open areas for these debt-ridden students to be spending most of their days and nights studying. Which was also going to be you pretty soon as well.
How exciting.
“I’d get us a study room, but they’re all reserved. And I think we’d both need campus IDs anyway,” he tells you, coming to a stop at a table that neared the corner of the first floor.
“No worries, I don’t mind wherever we sit.” You affirm as you sit across from him.
You guys resume your study session as if Yoongi didn’t have to travel through half an hour of rush hour traffic just to get here. Both of your books and pencils are scattered in a disarray on the table, the blue light from your computers shining on both of your faces per usual in hopes of getting another productive day of studying down, as it was the final stretch of finals week, and then graduation coming faster than you could comprehend.
Maybe you were in over your head, but just being here, sitting in a collegiate library with your head buried in your Calculus book and your soulmate just inches away—it seems like you were already getting a glimpse of the future and what it could entail. And for the first time in this entire year full of people telling you how fast things are going to come at you and how time just seems more like an illusion, without a moment to sink in what’s around you and dwell on the brevity of events.
It felt like you were beginning to accept this without the inclinations of fear creeping through your mind and body.
“Y/N?” Yoongi calls out to you. He notices that your eyes have been glued to the window for a fair amount of time, your chin propped on your palm as your curious, doe eyes stare into the swarming, bustling quad. “Are you okay?”
Yoongi knew you were very pretty from the moment he saw you, but it was the first time he was able to observe you, or admire you closely if he was being completely frank. The sun bathed you in it’s golden embrace, it’s bright streaks of light dancing upon you like you were the only one in it’s line of sight. It accentuated all your greatest features, kissing you with it’s celestial touch that made you look all the more ravishing and real and so intimate despite being more than an arm’s length away.
You know those few moments that you experience in your life where for that small, fixed moment in time everything just feels like it’s where it supposed to be—as if the moment was written in verbatim for you to live through, experience, and later on treasure and later look back on with fondness and a smile.
Your eyes shift to him, softening as you notice the gentle smile adorning his lips, his dim eyes twinkling from the effects of golden hour, in which you reply back with your own lazy grin. Your eyes tear away from his face before you could feel yourself falling into oblivion and for what felt like getting completely lost in his orbs without reservation.
You chuckle, eyes casting down back onto your laptop, “I’m fine, you?”
Yoongi didn’t know you all too well, and it was indefinite how long you would be placed in his life. But in this very moment, where it felt like you were the only one present in a library filled with hundreds, he knew that even if you were to leave tomorrow and you two were to never cross paths ever again after that, he wouldn’t be able to forget you.
Even if he tried.
And he was already scared of losing you, but then again, you weren’t even his to begin with.
You were under the sun’s bewitching kiss, but he was pretty sure that he wanted to kiss you just a little bit more.
Yoongi can’t seem to look away from you, “I’m great.”
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Shutting the screen of his laptop enough for you to notice he says, “It’s getting late, do you need to be home soon?”
You shake your head, your hands reaching up to your hair and pulling the hair tie that’s just barely been holding your hair up and out of your face for the past few hours. “Nah, I told my parents I’ll be studying out late with friends. They’re pretty lax about curfew and stuff as long as I don’t show up home at like 4 in the morning.”
Your words emit a chuckle out of him, “Good to know, it’s the perks of finally being legal coming to fruition, huh.”
Nodding in agreement, your brows raise at how true of a statement it truly was, “No actually, as a joke I would make the argument of how they can’t micromanage me anymore since I’m eighteen, but then they agreed with me and I just ran with it I guess.”
The aftereffects of studying without much abating was starting to catch up to you—your yawns becoming more frequent as the sun started to set and people slowly started to simultaneously leave but also file in for some late-night, last-minute cramming.
“Are you leaving town for college?” He asks while shutting his laptop, giving you his full attention.
“Yeah, I am,” you sigh, “it’s actually not too far from here, but it’s like an hour and a half away from home so I’m dorming there.”
“You excited?”
You take a moment to think about it, deciding to just be outright. “Scared more than anything, if I’m being honest.”
“I can promise you it’s not as scary as it seems, it just takes some time to get adjusted to, of course. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He tells you, and despite many people saying words so similar to his, the fact that he’s saying it directly to you makes you want to believe it just a bit more than all the others.
“You’ve probably heard the same inspirational spiel from so many people, so I’ll save you the headache.” He chuckles, knowing that he too, was just in the same position as you only a year ago.
“No but, I feel like you’re more trustworthy of a source considering you just graduated last year,” you reassure him, “instead of a bunch of 50 year olds whose tuition was probably the cost of a textbook now.”
“The fact that it’s true is just fucked. We’re set up for failure before we even start.”
You nod, both of your faces having the same expression of ‘tell me about it’ painted across them.
Yoongi pops up in his seat, “Is it too late for you to get food? I’m starving.”
“God,” you huff out in relief, “I was hoping you didn’t hear my stomach growling this whole time.”
He clicks his tongue, a smile spreading across his cheeks, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
You shut your laptop this time. “But what if you weren’t hungry?”
As soon as you zip your backpack closed, he takes you by the wrist—slinging his own backpack over his shoulder. He glances over his shoulder back at you, his eyes crinkled up and his gums on full display. The first time you’ve seen him smile this bright all day.
His beauty is blinding.
“Let’s get out of here.”
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“Never ever let me scarf down McDonald’s that fast ever again.”
He laughs, the raspiness of his voice making him sound like he was out of breath. Or he might be, but you’re too over-satiated to be aware of what was going on. “Please don’t yak in my car, I’m not cleaning up after you.”
Leaned back in the passenger’s seat, you get up slightly, just enough to nudge him in the shoulder. “Don’t make me consider it, asshole.”
“Alright, no Mcflurry for you then.”
“No!” You shoot up in your seat, leaning over the center console in which he holds the cup out the window.
He smirks, leaning in towards you, “I thought someone wasn’t hungry, hm?”
“I just ate too fast, I did not say anything about being full.” You explain with a frown, eyes glued to the cup that he was still holding out the window. “At least don’t waste the poor thing.”
He concedes, bringing the cup back inside the car and handing it to you, “Hold on, let me get one more bite.”
You nod while holding the cup for him, watching him closely in case he ends up downing the entire thing the moment you look away. He’s aware of your focus on him, and as the spoon is about to enter his mouth, he dips a finger in—leaning forward to smear it across your cheek.
“Yoongi!” You shriek as he drops the spoon into the cup and makes a run for it—fiddling with the handle of his car door and running out.
You run out as soon as he does, scooping up as much ice cream into your hand as you can as you scan the premises for any sight of that boy.
Because right now, revenge tastes sweeter than any ice cream.
Noticing a lock of hair peeking out from the rear end of his car, you inch towards his trunk, keeping your hand behind your back as you jump around the corner to face him.
His eyes widen in horror at the entire scoop of soft serve in the palm of your hand, and he attempts to make his pursuit, only to realize that you two were parked in between two other cars.
You manage to get ahold of his jacket sleeve, and instead of Yoongi running away, he relents. Turning around and accepting his defeat as you greet him with a smug smile, bringing your dripping palm into his line of vision.
“Okay, that’s just unfair.” He deadpans, staring into the obscene amount of ice cream in your hand, the cup got discarded somewhere along the chase.
Taking a swoop of it in your finger, you reach up to place a dollop of it right on the apple of his cheek—swirling it around to make a circle. You do the same thing on the other side.
“You look pretty,” you say, because he does. He always does.
He takes your wrist, dipping his finger into the ice cream before placing some of it onto the tip of your nose, “You look much prettier.”
“Mine as well stick a cherry on my nose at this point.”
“Oh, you know that would’ve been the first thing I’d do if I had one,” he teases, thinking you would make a very cute Rudolph.
Yoongi reaches into his car to get a couple of napkins as you try to get rid of the dripping, sticky mess on your fingers.
Before you realize, he gently grabs your wrist again, wiping your palm with the napkin before he could clean off any of the mess on his face.
You stare at him as he wipes your hand, the way he holds your wrist so delicately with his calloused fingers. Grabbing one of the bottles of water in his car, you saturate a napkin, before reaching up to help wipe some of the ice cream off his face.
“You don’t have to—“
You smile, hands leaving his face momentarily, “It’s fine.”
He stands there, unable to make eye contact as his eyes shift to every single thing surrounding you two except you.
You can’t make any eye contact either, thanking the dim night sky for the fact that he can’t see how fierce you’re blushing right now.
Grabbing a napkin from his pocket, he pushes some of your hair back with his other hand, leaning in closer to get a better look of your face before bringing the napkin up to wipe away the big smear of cream on your cheek.
You freeze at his actions, his face clean for the most part as he begins to wipe away at the mess he caused. Not that you were complaining anymore.
He takes a finger and swipes off the dollop of cream he put on your nose— pausing for a bit before inching forward even closer, smearing the remaining cream onto your lips.
Without thinking, you’ve been inching closer this whole time too, so close in proximity where all you can see is his face, all his beautiful details and lack of imperfections. Did he always have a mole on his cheek there?
When he finishes smearing the cream onto your lips he wipes the excess off his fingers with a napkin, eyes stayed focused on yours. And you realize this is the first time you two have held eye contact for this long.
Your eyes flicker to his lips, but you immediately regret it as the corner of his lip curls up to what would resemble a subtle smirk. You feel him lean in closer, your bodies millimeters from colliding in the already tight space between two cars— but he pauses in his spot before your lips can meet, leaning forward to whisper in your ear.
“Only if you’re okay with this, Y/N.”
His breath tickles the shell of your ear as he’s perched over your shoulder. Bringing a hand up to the nape of his neck, you gently guide his head back to meet face-to-face once again.
“I am.”
You’re not quite sure who closes the gap first, but your lips meet and a flurry of instant shockwaves shoot down your spine at the initial touch. He brings a hand up to the small of your back, pulling you in closer so that there’s no space in between your bodies.
While getting your first taste of him, the taste of the cold ice cream lingers on your tongue, and you’re wondering if this was just what exactly he had intended. You feel your mind go fuzzy, numb-like as he continues to kiss you, and you kiss him back, and you swear you’ve never felt more at home than you do right now— wrapped in his arms, lips against yours, and sending the gleam of the string glowing as bright as it ever been before as he continues to kiss you.
Your lips detached, and the two of you are almost out of breath, panting as you two stare at each other in bewilderment of what had just occurred.
“Sorry, I got carried away,” he admits shyly as he tucks a loose strand of your hair away.
“I think I like eating my ice cream like that, I don’t know.” You tease, your hand reaching down to intertwine your fingers with his.
“Oh, do you now?” He scoffs, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead as you lean into his chest.
“Yes, I do,” you speak into his shirt, “but it’s getting cold, can we go in your car?”
He laughs as he opens the door he was leaning against, scooting so there was enough space for you in the backseat.
As soon as you get yourself situated, you sigh, your body slumping against his backseat, “Yoongi, I have something to tell you.”
“Am I in trouble?”
Quirking a brow, “Do you wanna be?”
“Possibly.” He says in a low whisper, a small grin etching itself onto his features.
Oh God, you don’t think your heart can handle much of this any longer.
“Okay, I’m not sure if you remember but I know I do,” you chuckle, your mind briefly glossing over just about how much of your time had been spent daydreaming about the boy sitting right in front of you— if he was doing okay, if he was smiling right now, how he looked, if he ate breakfast that day. You tell him, glancing up to stare into his eyes under the dimness of being in his car, “We’ve met before.”
His head tilts, brows raising slightly at the confession, “We have?”
“Yeah, now this might sound creepy as fuck,” you say, letting out a hollow chuckle in the air to ease your nerves, and to hopefully sound less like a sputtering fool, yet it was already too late for that, “but did you happen to go to Pacifica Beach 10 years ago? With your family?”
“No fucking way,” he deadpans, and you’re slightly taken aback at his choice of words, his expression unreadable, but you weren’t sure if it was because of the way your heart was beating erratically in your chest, or if it was because it was nighttime and the lights inside his car weren’t working, “Are you the girl? The girl that fell in the sand?”
Your jaw nearly drops to your lap, you shake your head, shaking off some of the astonishment and awe on your features, “You remember?”
“I mean, yeah, at the age of nine I thought you were pretty hot,” he confesses with a smile, making you laugh and alleviating the tenseness in your shoulders, thankful for the boy in front of you always knowing the right time to say certain things, a talent in which you wish you had, “Even for getting wet sand all over my favorite shorts.”
“I think I’m still as clumsy as I was ten years ago, unfortunately.”
“It’s cute, don’t worry about it.” He says like it was something so obvious. Like his words weren’t going to make you want to curl up in his seat even more. “How did you know it was me?”
Oh, here we go. You take a deep inhale, fingers grasping at the hem of his sweatshirt. “That's the thing… you know the whole red string soulmate thing.
You can’t make this out in the darkness, but his lips press into a thin line, he stares down into his lap while nodding at your words. “Yeah, what about it.”
Damn it, just say it already.
“The string is connected between us, Yoongi.”
His head perks up, “So that means—”
“Yoongi,” you whisper, reaching across the seats to gently take his hand into yours, “we’re soulmates.” You say just loud enough for him to hear, admiring the way his hand fits quite nicely in yours.
His head droops down, avoiding your gaze as he tries to slither his hand out of your grasp. Your eyes widen at his actions, creases of worry developing on your forehead at his lack of enthusiasm, or lack of anything for that matter.
He coughs dryly into his sleeve, awkward, and not at all seeming like he registered anything you had just told him. Like you just told him the weather forecast or that his laundry was done.
“I see.”
Scooting back towards the door, you stare down at your lap, wishing that the darkness of the night sky would swallow you whole and that you could take back the last ten minutes. If the genie of Aladdin popped up right now, it would be the first wish you would request.
The mood had evidently changed, in the matter of your brief confession and his lack of reaction thereof. The silence was thick like fog, suffocating you, encasing you, and you don’t think you have ever regretted saying something so much until this very moment.
Years and years spent imagining this very moment that you would confess to your soulmate the truth about your ability to see the string, was blown into oblivion. No chance to take it back, to reverse time and keep your words contained in the cabinets of your mind for safekeeping. Everything was all laid out. Whether you liked it or not.
And you just screwed it all up.
You can feel yourself nearing to tears, your eyes brimming to their capacity, eyelashes damp, “Yoongi, did I say something wro—”
“Sorry, Y/N,” he cuts you off, “I forgot I have to do some last-minute packing before I leave tomorrow. I’ll drop you off back home.” He says, immediately opening the door and retreating to the driver’s seat.
You quickly wipe the tears from your eyes as you quickly trudge to the passenger’s side, refusing to make eye contact with him as you plop yourself into his seat and stare out the window as he starts the car and leaves the parking lot.
He plays music from his own phone to avoid half an hour of silence. You two don’t say a single word the whole time, and you don’t bother to spare him a glance—letting the tears you were trying so desist, escape freely down your face and onto the sleeves of his hoodie as you stare out the window.
Finally reaching your house, you hastily get out of his car as soon as he puts it in park—not returning his hoodie, and not sparing a single glance behind you as you had no intentions of speaking to the man who had just ruined every ounce of longing and expectation you had to meet and fall in love with your soulmate.
As soon as you fall under your covers, your sobs wrack your body for what seems like eternity, unable to calm yourself down and instead deciding to cry all your feelings out— only able to fall asleep once your body grows too tired to cry any longer.
Min Yoongi was going back home tomorrow, and if you never spoke to him again after today, so be it.
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Curse Min Yoongi for being the cause of your puffy, red eyes and lack of sleep the day that you graduate high school. This day was supposed to be a day of utmost prominence, given your age, and new beginnings—a close on a chapter you were sure you would look back on with both fondness and distaste with years to come.
But instead of focusing on that aspect of today, you could only dwell on yesterday. Yesterday night, in particular.
The day of your high school graduation, you were awoken to your phone blaring ceaselessly into your eardrums—your phone placed accordingly so you were sure that you would wake up early enough to get ready, save your damaged ears.
Your lids were heavy, and after what seemed like five alarms had passed you grumble out of annoyance as you swipe your phone off your bedside table. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you turn on your phone to realize that the sound from your phone in fact, wasn’t an alarm, it was from someone calling you.
Yoongi was calling you.
At 4:30 in the morning.
You shoot up in your bed as you read the name that pops up on your screen. Pondering for a bit before swiping to answer, you bring your phone up to your ear.
“Y/N?”
“What do you want, Yoongi? It’s really early.”
“Can I talk to you?”
“Now?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, you know I’m leaving today.”
You groan, “I’m also graduating today, Yoongi, Can you just tell me over the phone?”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. But this is something I need to tell you in person. Please, I swear it won’t be long, and I’ll buy you coffee and breakfast.”
You sigh into your phone, your curiosity getting the better of you. “Fine.”
“I’m sorry for how I acted last night, Y/N. It was cowardly of me, and I just need to explain some stuff to you before I go.”
“Okay.” You deadpan, holding back tears once more. Although they never really stopped, honestly.
“Alright, thank you, Y/N. I’m outside your house.”
You hang up, as you slide out of your bed, walking up to your window to peek through the curtains to see that he was, in fact, parked on the curb in front of your house.
Slipping on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, you brush your teeth and leave the house with your phone in your pocket and your heart no longer on your sleeve in the presence of Min Yoongi.
You stood in your bathroom for a little longer, contemplating and backtracking on everything that had occurred this past week—the insurmountable amount of highs in comparison to lows.
You couldn’t help but think that it was destined for you to meet Yoongi and as much as you could pretend to hate his guts, pretend that you don’t love him or like him, or hate him, he would find some way to slither himself back into your life.
But back when you were seven, getting visions of a boy you didn’t even know and having this gnawing feeling at your heart due to the fact that they weren’t beside you—how were you supposed to comprehend that back then?
That same sense of control you thought you once regained as you aged was seeping out of your fingertips. All those unanswered questions that had you brimming with ambivalence were getting answered one by one.
Everything you had imagined him to be was appearing right before your very eyes. From the way his own pupils carry stars that appear to be handpicked from the sky itself, to his round cheeks that you would puff up when he was concentrating on something, turning rosy whenever you’d say something to provoke him, his rough and cold hands that you couldn’t wait another minute to be held with. His mouth that speaks words of wisdom beyond his years, but also snarky remarks that make it hard to withhold your laughter. The natural, deep timbre of his voice and the raspy laugh that you could hear on repeat for the rest of your life.
He was everywhere. And he was everything but avoidable.
It took years later for you to realize that fate had its own way of working. Regardless of all the stunning people you had encountered, that had charmed you, that had you swooning for them—they were never going to get anywhere near the same effect that Min Yoongi had on you.
The only sand you were having to confront now was the hourglass tracking the amount of time you had been stalling to tell him— the final grains slowly making their escape to the bottom to join the rest of their friends.
You walk out your front door only to be greeted by him standing at your doorstep, a bouquet of flowers in his arms.
“Congrats on graduating today.”
Your eyes flicker from his face to the flowers as he hands them to you. You wordlessly acknowledge him, giving him a tight-lipped nod in appreciation as he turns around and goes to his car, you trailing behind him while keeping your distance.
You climb into his car, slamming the door shut and throwing your hood over your head—presuming the position you had the night before on the drive home, your chin in the palm of your hand as you stared out his car window with the flowers resting in your lap.
Yoongi looked over at you from time to time, knowing that he very well deserved this cold demeanor from you. He stayed quiet and kept driving to his destination, waiting until he would get there to say what he wanted to say.
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You lull into sleep as he continues to drive, your forehead resting against the window of his car. At a stoplight, he glances over your figure to see your eyes shut and he makes a note to take his turns more carefully so he wouldn’t disturb you.
He parks on the side of the road as he reaches his stop. The car stops humming and your eyes peel open as he opens his car door. You slip your hood off enough to see out the window and you notice that you’re at the record shop you’ve probably been to hundreds of times, and now, Yoongi’s workplace.
He fishes out the keys in his pocket as he starts to fiddle with the door handle. It’s pitch black outside, no one to be seen while none of the shops on the downtown strip are open, or about to be open anytime soon.
Unlocking the door, he motions you to go in first. You step carefully into the shop, noticing how everything is in pristine condition— the shelves stocked for the most part and the floors sparkling.
“Is it okay that we're in here?” You ask, taking in the quietness of the store and how weird it felt being here without all the noise from all the people you’ve grown up on the same streets with.
“Yeah, they’re both out of town so we’re closed for the weekend.”
You nod, as you continue to window shop at all the records. Yoongi locks the door behind him, walking past you as he begins to make his way towards the back.
“Follow me.”
And you do, you don’t have a choice, really. He shuts off the lights to the store and pulls the switch to the small overhead lamp in the middle of the breakroom. The small, vintage looking lamp manages to illuminate the room just enough for you to observe the rest of the space.
It reminds you of a basement that older homes have, wooden and simple, but comfortable enough to be labeled as a break room. A couple of shelves filled with boxes stood in the corner of the room, the rest of their inventory, you assume.
A worn out leather couch stands on the other side, the leather fading to a lighter shade of brown a tad on the armrests, but still looking intact overall.
A mini fridge stood next to it with a microwave and coffee maker on top.
But the most noticeable piece of furniture in the room was the record player.
It stood off on its own, kept more hidden to be treasured aside from everything else. Unlike the other record players that you would always see in the store, this one looked different.
The others once were probably newer models, with improved needles, buttons and improvements in technology to make it easier to play whatever records one may choose. While the record appeared spotless and clean, it looked like no one had used it in a really long time. It stood on a wooden podium, kept safe in a glass case.
Tearing your focus away from the record player, your eyes scan for Yoongi as you find him patiently waiting for you on the leather couch. He’s hunched over with his arms resting on his knees, hands clasped together as he stares at the floor.
You sit across from him, squishing yourself against the armrest to be as far away from him as possible.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” You ask. He sits upright on the couch as he continues to look forward instead of at you. You do the same.
He sighs, turning towards you. “First off, I just wanna say sorry about last night. I completely blew you off when I know you had just disclosed something that was really important to you—“
“To me?” You cut him off, appalled.
“Y/N,” he calls out, and for the first time you look at him straight in the eyes, shooting daggers as you give him the most intense glare you could muster, “I don’t believe in soulmates.”
Your eyes soften on their own accord. You were shitty at concealing your feelings, and you were sure that your face was expressing the immense amount of sadness his words are making you feel. You turn away from him in hopes of him not noticing. You can feel your bottom lip quivering, another wave of tears threatening to deter your vision.
You scoff, feeling the beginning stages of anger starting to creep into your body. “Did you bring me here just to tell me that?”
Yoongi heart breaks upon seeing your face fall at his notions. “I’m here to explain why.”
Taking a deep breath, you stare back at the wall in front of you, giving him a perfunctory nod.
“My parents were soulmates, they met in high school, and got married right after they graduated.” The irony.
“They had me a year later when they both were in college despite having financial troubles, but from what they told me, that was when they were the most happy,” he explains, a crooked smile making way across his lips, “Knowing that they had a son on the way, and going to school, and being able to see each other between all the commotion and everything in between.” He continues further.
He exhales, shaky and hollow, before going on, “That day when you first met me ten years ago was the last vacation I ever went on with my mom.”
You look up, your focus slowly shifting towards him, the guilt managing to ignite through your system in flames, “Yoongi, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do. It’s fine,” he tells you with a chuckle to help soothe his apprehension about the subject. “It's just… my mom left when I was still so young, and I had no idea that something was going on. It was like a bomb had dropped, you know. They were perfect in every way when I was growing up—stable jobs, a home they can call their own, always acting so civil and domestic and loving towards one another. I thought everything was fine, or at least it seemed that way. And then suddenly one day it wasn’t. We went from eating dinner every day together as a family to my mom sending me postcards every holiday and visiting once a year.”
You notice that the pace of speech starts to quicken the more he explains, becoming more frantic. Scooting closer to him, you place a hand on his, stopping him in his panic. “Yoongi, you don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable. You don’t owe me or anyone an explanation, okay? I was being selfish, and I should’ve been more considerate.”
He shakes his head, fingers curling around his as he offers you a small smile. “No, I want you to know, and I should’ve communicated better.”
You nod, enclosing another hand around his and squeezing it.
“I don’t know,” he starts off, more controlled, “It’s like she just stopped caring. And yeah, after that I just thought that soulmate shit was all for show. Because it just didn’t make sense to me how a red string can determine so much about a person's life when they can change the course of everything so easily.”
You hum, because his justification was very much valid. “No, you’re right.”
“Same with love, in a sense,” he continues, placing his other hand atop of yours as he sits back, the conversation coming easier to him, “to put so much of yourself into one person just seems so… I don’t know… unrealistic. All that vulnerability and trust that goes along with being in a relationship just seems like too much to ask for from one person.”
All you can do is nod. As much as you wanted to say that you were willing to go above and beyond for him, you know that your words wouldn’t be able to be evince what you wanted in place of actions.
“I think that’s why being with you scares me, in a way.” He admits, glancing off to not gauge what reaction his words had gotten out of you. He’d rather not see.
“Seeing this string so clearly makes me even more scared,” he explains furthermore, detaching his hand from yours to bring it up to his field of vision.
“You can see it now?”
“I started seeing it when you told me last night.”
A small grin makes its way onto his lips. “Even if I try not to think about you Y/N, there’s no way I can’t.” He tells you as he fiddles with the gleaming thread, intertwining it around his fingers before letting it fall loose around his wrist.
“I don’t know what this feeling is, do I like you? Do I love you? I’m not sure,” he says, “I just know that whenever I see you, I feel happier when you’re around. And that I wanna keep you safe and be the one that makes you happy, too. It sounds so simple, but it feels so complicated to explain.”
“I feel the same way, Yoongi.”
“I just- I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want what we have to be temporary, to be short term. I don’t want you to just be another girl who exits just as fast as they enter. But whatever love is, I think I’d be willing to try with you.”
“Yoongi,” you say, tears brimming at the seams of your already swollen eyes, thanks to your previous flash flood from only a few hours prior, “you’re gonna make me cry, again.”
He scoots closer, his knees bumping into yours as his eyes gloss over you tenderly. You’re avoiding his eyes, using the back of your palms to blot the tears on your cheeks. “I’m sorry for making you cry in the first place.”
“Please don’t be sorry. I was being insensitive.” You counter, tasting the teardrops at the seams of your lips.
“How could you be insensitive if you didn’t know what was going on?” He declares. As you let your hands fall to your lap, your tear ducts managing to quiet down for a moment, you feel another pair of hands brush over your own. “How about we just forget what happened last night? We’re flawed, we’re human.”
You chuckle, twining your fingers into his. “I think I’d like that.”
As you turn to face him with a smile, he brings his hand up, looking as if he’s about to scratch his head. His hand pauses, decidedly running a hand through his hair, and moving carefully to reach out towards you.
He brushes the pad of his thumb over your dampened cheek, his touch so soft and gentle that the sensation is barely felt. But you know, oh you know it’s there. The rest of his fingers come to find their place around your jaw, as he uses his other hand to mirror the same motions on the other side of your face.
Yoongi has you almost entirely in his hands. And even with your cheeks wet, hair a mess, wearing clothes that were tattered and two sizes too big, and eyes swollen and red from all the pain he had inflicted upon you— he thought you were so beautiful. Stunning, nonetheless.
He stands up from the couch, holding a hand out for you in hopes that you would grab it. The iridescent string moving in waves as he reaches toward you. “Follow me.”
And so you do.
He brings you out of the break room and back into the store. Switching on the lights, you’re greeted by the overhead buzz of the lamps. Taking a glance out the door, you notice the sun’s rays beginning to make its entrance for the day. Yet it was still far too early to see any signs of civilization out.
“Pick a record.” He tells you.
“What?”
He smiles, all gums, “Pick anything. It’s on me.”
You shake your head, leaning against the register. “No Yoongi, oh my God. No way.”
“Why not?”
“It’s expensive.” You say, crossing your arms for added emphasis.
“And I work, I work here. Think of this as a graduation present.” He reasons, walking deeper into the store as he skims a hand along a shelf of vinyls.
You toe past the register, walking up to his side as you took his forearms in your hands. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he affirms, and the assuredness in his eyes makes you feel like there’s no way you could say no, “Now go pick something out.” He tells you, placing his hands on your shoulders and giving you a slight push towards the shelves.
Your eyes scan the possible hundreds upon hundreds of vinyls that took residence in the shelves, most of them likely artists you’ve never heard of.
Fingertips riding along the spines, you begin to seriously browse, already feeling bad enough for the act of getting an album for free. You didn’t want to add insult to injury by taking an eternity to pick something out.
Too occupied and immersed in finding something, because there’s so much inventory meaning a considerable amount of options to choose from. Narrowing it down to one began to be harder than you thought.
A pair of arms, bigger and clad in a black hoodie, wrap around your waist, hands securing at the curves of your waist as you get pulled in closer.
You feel the soft huffs of his breath tickling the nape of your neck, in which he later rests his chin in— holding you so tight in fear that he might lose you again.
Smiling at the sensation, you place your hands over his, gingerly rubbing the backs of his hands with your thumbs. You tilt your head to the side to rest yours over his tufts of hair, “Hi, there.”
“Hi,” He speaks into your neck, the tickling sensation making you squirm a little.
“I don’t know what to pick, there’s so much to choose from.”
You feel his head move, he nods into your shoulder. “Why don’t you just go to a random section and pick one blindly?”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”
Scanning what each shelf had been individually labeled with, you decide to make your way over to the most popular presses, Yoongi still pressed up behind you as you two shuffle towards the shelf. As you stop in front of it, you grab his wrist, slapping his hand over your eyes.
Blindly grabbing at air, your hands finally drop onto the albums, fingertips gliding over several before stopping at one unbeknownst to you. Hesitantly, you grab it, sliding it out of the other array of albums.
“Ready to look?”
“Yeah.”
He removes his hands from your eyes, your vision coming back to you. You look down to see Stevie Wonder’s ‘Songs in the Key of Life’ in your hands, and you’re more than elated about your pick.
Wow is the only word that manages to leave your lips.
He hums in shared awe, “We should play it.”
“Are we allowed to use the record players here?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Taking your hand, he leads you to the breakroom once more until he stops in front of the record player in the glass case, still appearing like it hadn’t been used or touched in years.
“Does it still work, you think?” You ask, feeling like you two were overstepping your boundaries even more by attempting to use this.
He wipes some of the dust off of the glass case with his sleeve, carefully unlatching it and lifting it open, “I guess we’re about to find out.”
To your surprise, the record player appears to be in mint condition aside from all the dust and debris that had gathered on the case. It looks practically new.
Yoongi lifts the arm, sliding the record out of the case and onto the turntable. He cautiously cleans off the needle before slowly placing it on the vinyl.
“If it works, can I pick the song?” You ask meekly as you tiptoe to peer over his shoulder. His hands and fingers, although appearing to be rough and calloused, were much more nimble then they seem as he carefully handled the antique machinery.
“Alright,” he huffs out, glancing over his shoulder at you, “it should be all set. Just tell me what track number you want.” He tells you, handing you the vinyl sleeve so you can find what song to play.
You already knew what song to play though. You just needed to know what number it corresponded to. “Track two.”
A small smile creeps onto his lips, as he shifts his focus for you back to the record player. Tucking his bottom lip into his mouth in concentration, he lifts the arm once more, his eyes scanning for the very next groove vinyl as he gently places it there.
You don’t realize you’re staring off into space until you feel a hand on your wrist— the contact surprising you a bit and making you jump. He smiles, motioning back to the record player as he gently tugs your wrist to stand next to him.
“Just press play right here.”
Hesitancy is what you feel. You’re not exactly sure why, it’s not like you’re being asked to do something grandiose or complicated. And regardless of how much sleep you had gotten or, at least wish you had gotten, he wasn’t asking much of you.
But you press it.
The vinyl gradually begins to spin, and you can detect the intro of the song— faint keys of the piano playing in a melody that brings a smile to your lips.
Yoongi looks at you fondly, you begin sidestepping to the rhythm of the song. He steps back to crash back onto the couch.
Reaching out a hand, you turn towards him with a pout, “Get up.”
He rolls his eyes playfully, feigning annoyance but the affection he holds for you clearly appears up more than the latter. He slides his hand into yours, letting you tug him up from the couch.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?”
Glancing down at your hands, you see the string swirling around your figures, it’s light emitting a glow as bright as you’ve ever seen. Yoongi notices you looking down, and his eyes trail down to your hands. He reaches for them, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours, and squeezing them briefly before looking back up.
“Dance with me.” You say under your breath, detaching and bring your hands up to rest on his shoulders.
Your hands trail from his shoulders all the way down to his hands, grabbing both of his wrists and placing his hands on the small of your back. You look back up to see him chuckling at your assertiveness, and as you place your hands back on his shoulders, you can feel him bring your body closer to his, and so you wrap your hands around the nape of his neck, similar to those cheesy prom scenes in a coming-of-age movie.
Well, you two weren’t very far from that. You both had wide, lazy, and near foolish grins painted across your faces, eyes half-lidded and worn out from the day before. Rocking side and side to the beat of the music, the ends of his bangs falling into his eyes, his gums on full display as his smile does everything but fade.
The small overhead lamp that just barely served its function to illuminate the break room wasn’t on. It didn’t need to be.
Not when the man standing in front of you was finally here, his presence feeling extrusive almost. Even more than the string that’s been stuck to your finger all your life wasn’t compared to any of this— none of it prepared you for the moment that you would finally be standing in front of your soulmate, experiencing how it felt to be cherished and loved. You felt whole.
“You gonna miss me?” You tease, tilting your head as you rest your forehead on his.
He smiles, “I’m not going there for the whole summer you know, only a month.”
“Really?”
“Yup,” he affirms, pecking the tip of your nose, “then I’m all yours.”
You kiss him. It’s not as intimate as the kiss you two shared last night, but you’re grabbing him by the sides of his face, inching closer to slot your lips into his before pulling back with a smile.
He strokes a hand through your hair gingerly, his fingers hooking under your jaw “You’re beautiful.”
“Don’t miss me too much, eh?” You taunt, although you feel yourself automatically sink into his touch.
“Oh, shut up.” He cuts you off with a wide grin, leaning forward to shut you up with his lips.
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thank u so much for reading!!! <3
masterlist
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dilfsugaaa · a month ago
Text
Falling for Sin [1] | M.YG
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summary: “I have heard shy girls are the loudest on bed. I wanna see it for myself.”
Yoongi, the florist next door, falls for the already-smitten-with-him high school student, Y/N. but for her, is loving him a sin? how does her world crumble when her elder brother comes to know of their forbidden relationship?
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pairing: florist!yoongi x female reader
rating [over the series]: explicit | 🔞 
word count: 2.5k [for this part]
genre/au: smut/fluff/angst, porn with plot | flower shop au
warnings [over the series]: age difference (not too much but still uncomfortable for some readers), loss of virginity and innocence, hickeys, shameless smut, voyeurism (both accidental and intentional), dark and tragic themes, outdated and conservative school of thought, yandere! (kind of), this screams bad!
a/n: originally posted to my wattpad, and ao3. slightly rewritten.
my first het fanfic ever (actually started January, 2021). this might be shitty so reader discretion is advised.
the pov of the o/c is that of an eighteen year old, and hence she sounds innocent when she’s doing the narration.
also, this fic has been split into parts and has been written in the first person pov, which is alternately of the female reader, and that of Yoongi. links to the different parts can be accessed via my masterlist!
ao3 | wattpad
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Y/N P.O.V.
01/18/2021
6.30 AM
"Did you hear about the new flower shop?" Taehyung asks me, putting down the city newspaper he has been reading and folding it.
"How would I know? They rarely let us know anything other than what is already in our school textbooks." I reply, taking a long last look at my school uniform in the life sized mirror and ensuring that it looks proper. The skirt is a little too short for my liking, though.
"I will take you there when you come back home today from school. I remember when we were little you used to love with flowers, basking in the positive, floral proximity of them." Taehyung waxes poetic, smiling at me. I return the same expression.
"Well yeah, why not? Now, bye!" I mouth, wolfing down the last of the breakfast cereal in my bowl and push past the main door of our apartment. I don't want to be late to school. Who wants to get early morning detention anyway?
"Bye, honey-sweet!" He waves at me. I hear the door click shut behind me.
I half-run, half-walk to the bus stop to catch the first bus I can get to school. I am luckily on time. Since I am among the first passengers in here, I get to the second last row which is my favorite one, and seat myself beside the window. Ninety minutes to school. I sigh as I let my head rest against the back of my seat.
8.30 AM
We file into our respective classes soon after the morning assembly is over. It is Chemistry for me. I make my way to the classroom and find the teacher, Mister Park, grading our test papers from the previous day.
"Good morning, Mister Park." I bow to him while walking towards my bench.
"Good morning, Y/N." He smiles at me. "This test of yours went better than all of your previous ones. Keep working hard!"
"I will, Mister Park. Thank you." I reply out of courtesy and make myself comfortable on my seat. I turn to take my organic chemistry textbook out of my bag.
Slowly everyone arrives into the classroom. The teacher stands up. "Here, class! I have graded all of your test papers on the topic, general organic chemistry, and every one of you has done exceptionally well." He beams, handing us our corrected answer sheets on our desks. "Since you guys have begun to find the lesson really easy, remind me to raise the difficulty level next time." He smirks. The class groans collectively.
"Open your book on the forty-seventh page. Kim Y/N, stand up and read the text out loud." He commands me. "The topic is hyperconjugation."
I start reading. "Hyperconjugation is the delocalization of the sigma electron. It is also known as sigma-pi conjugation or no-bond resonance. It occurs in..."
As soon as I finish reading the full text on the said page he asks me to sit down and then starts explaining the concepts one-by-one.
I gaze absentmindedly out of the window. I would rather sleep than listen to this shit. 
Then, just as I am about to doze off, a small piece of white chalk hits me. I get snapped out of my siesta.
"Kim Y/N, am I this boring?" Mister Park Jimin runs his hand through his beautiful blond hair, an amused expression plastered on his face.
"Sorry, Mister Park, I-" I begin.
"You don't need to be sorry, Y/N. Drink some water and try to refocus. So, where were we? Yes, so, hyperconjugation is a permanent effect. What this means is that..."
Dammit. I had better concentrate now. As it is, this was a major embarrassment.
The rest of the class goes by with me trying my best not to fall asleep and him outlining the whole concept explicitly, to the best of his ability.
3.30 PM
I am back home. I ring the doorbell.
"How was your day?" Taehyung asks me. He is clad in an off-white apron that has cooking stains on it. Not his favorite one, but he wears it because he says it helps him visualize himself as a professional chef, for some reason. I mostly disagree, though.
"It was tiring, to say the least...uhhh, what's with that?" I point at his apron.
"Oh this! Well, I was in the mood to, you know, bake some great delicacy." He says proudly.
"And what 'great delicacy' have you baked?" He is such a mood.
"Chocolate pudding!" He exclaims, emerging from the kitchen carrying a large dish with the pudding on it. Admittedly, it looks fabulous. I just want to dive in.
"Get yourself a spoon, girl. This is gonna be today's lunch." He declares.
I run to the kitchen to get a spoon. This is not the kind of lunch anyone’s used to, anyway. More like a scarce opportunity.
Both of us are busy digging our spoons into the pudding and grabbing mouthfuls. After a while, all of a sudden, Taehyung turns to face me. "We have to go visit the new flower shop before it closes for the day."
"Ahhh yes! I'll go get ready." I mouth. 
4.51 PM
The flower shop has such a beautiful appearance, I wonder what the owner looks like.
Set in red brick and mortar, the shop looks like the protagonist's house atop a hill in some age-old fairytale. It has a mystic feel to it, a feel that entices you to enter the building and explore it, expecting to have a tryst with the unknown. A small bell, made out of copper, hangs at the entrance. Before getting into the shop, the visitor has to ring it. Surely to let the florist know some visitor has arrived, and that they would like to take a look at the flowers on offer.
It is almost as if I am frozen at my place, drinking in the magical surroundings of the red building. The dreamer inside of me has been awakened and my mind is full of countless adjectives to try to describe the indescribable.
"Y/N! We can't flex here all day, you know..." Taehyung shakes me by my shoulder, harsh but soft.
"Yes...yeah, let's go in." I reply, still dazed.
Taehyung rings the bell and I push the glass door open. At this hour, we are the only visitors in here.
A pair of eyes looks up from behind a massive flower décor that seems to be a work in progress. Those eyes meet mine. I look away instinctively.
"Welcome! What can I do for you?" That man, presumably, comes up in front of us.
Gosh, he is so handsome. 
I can't contain myself. That pale skin, those cat-like eyes, that gummy smile...this place is full of beauties, I am pretty sure by now. I draw in a sharp breath.
"We just dropped by to have a look around here." Taehyung replies. "You have just opened shop here recently, right? What is your name?"
"I am Yoongi. Min Yoongi." He smiles at us, all warm and welcoming.
"So, Mister Min, do you prepare all of these decorations by yourself?" My elder brother enquires.
"Yes. I work on them by myself, with flowers that I freshly pick from the garden at the back."
The topic of their discussion bores me. I zone out, and instead choose to observe Yoongi with a fascinated admiration. His name, it is just...beautiful! I think it means that red pearl in our language, and if you ask me, it is a beautiful one, and he is true to its meaning. 
I peek at him. His well-toned muscles, his slender body which is clothed black...I take in each detail, visually feasting my eyes.
We walk around the shop. There is a variety of decorative flowers in here, all arranged on huge gilded silver-colored shelves and vases, atop long red pieces of satin. For the customers who wish to buy fresh flowers and ornamental plants for their homes, there are those too, arranged in colorful and neatly pruned arrays.
Taehyung seems really very happy. There is no denying the fact that this visit to the florist's has rekindled lost memories of our childhood, wherein we used to roam around town back in our native city of Daegu, together visiting lush lawns and deep thickets that burst with the freshness and abundance of flowers. "Well, I think I have fallen in love with everything in here. I wish to buy some pots." He whispers to me.
"I would love it if you do that." I speak in the affirmative. I can't help but admit that the place, combined with the beautiful fresh flowers, gives off surreal vibes.
Yoongi walks past us and in the process, my left hand brushes past his. He chooses to ignore the contact and approaches Taehyung. "I think I can offer a discount to first-time customers like you." He flashes that dangerously adorable gummy smile at him. Taehyung's face takes on a relieved expression. "I love your generosity. I will place my order now and send in the money tomorrow. Will that be okay?"
"I guess that would be fair enough." Yoongi replies as he walks to his vintage-looking cash register, almost as if it time traveled its way here from the 1950s, with one of those time machines from superhit science fiction flicks. It is kept on top of the cashier's desk. He is apparently in charge of all the duties in here, that encompasses tending to the plants, selling them, and drawing up the checks for payment; apart from keeping the place clean. He must be working hard, quite a lot of it.
Taehyung walks up to the desk with me by his side. Yoongi grabs a royal blue ink pen and his notepad, I presume, and starts jotting down stuff. "What is your name, sir?" He asks my elder brother.
"My name is Taehyung. Kim Taehyung."
"Can I know her name as well? Just in case you are not able to come here and then you will send someone else in, who I assume would be her, I need to know who-"
"I am Kim Y/N." I interject. I shouldn't have done that though. It seems as if he has taken offence to it. He looks at me and opens his mouth as if to say something, then decides to shrug it off. He writes our names on the page, one below the other. 
His handwriting is just beautiful. Nothing else.
"What plants would you like to take home?" Yoongi asks my brother next, tapping his pen against his white knuckles while looking at him.
"For now I would opt for white roses and Shiloh." Taehyung seems to have decided on a choice. "What do you think, Y/N?"
"Uh...that is cool!" I say, obviously not being able to catch what he said because I was busy worshipping Yoongi in my head.
Before I know it, the cash receipt has been drawn up and the check is all ready to be settled. Yoongi walks over to the nursery and comes back with two pots, white roses in full bloom in one and beautiful purple buds of Shiloh in the other. "Where do you want me to load these on?"
I realize just then that we have spent over two hours here in this shop. Time flew by so quick.
"Could you deliver them home? We don't own a car and the scooter does not have space to-"
"Sure Mister Kim. I will ask my brother to drop the plant pots off at your home." Yoongi puts the plants down, interjecting with his suggestion to help. He straightens his back, and yanks his head backwards, in the process of stretching his body. I get a glimpse of his wonderfully sculpted Adam's apple and his neck. I'm almost ready to pass out.
Is he an incarnation of God? I am left gaping.
My brother nudges me. "Y/N..."
"I am coming." I answer impatiently as I walk to the exit where my brother is standing. I turn around one last time, just to take a last long look at the beautiful man, who smiles at me. I give a slight, hesitant smile in return.
9.30 PM
Taehyung comes to my room and knocks at the door. "Hey, Y/N!"
"Yeah, Tae?" I call out.
"Can I enter?"
"Why not?"
He enters the room and sits on the edge of my bed. I am at my worktable, finishing all of my school assignments for the next day at school. He smiles at me. "Working?"
"Yes." I reply.
"Which subject?"
"Math. And after that, English Literature."
"Keep studying, then." He stands up and makes his way to the door. "Good night, Y/N! Don't stay up too late!"
"Sure, Taehyung. Good night!" I squeak in response. He smiles while closing the door. I smile back.
What should I do next? I take my math worksheet out of the folder. It is on the topic of complex numbers. I put it back. I struggle with math as it is already, and my head is spinning as a bonus. Because of thoughts. Thoughts about a handsome man, who I met today for the first time. Thoughts about his chiseled jawline, and his face that was both cute and handsome at the same time. Simultaneously. Thoughts about his thighs, that seemed strong, just like a rod molded out of wrought iron. I close my eyes and smile to myself, color warming my cheeks up.
He is not alone on his job, though. Unlike what I had made out earlier in the evening. At the flower shop. He has a brother to help him out. I am curious to see for myself if his brother is also as handsome with godlike features as he is.
And what was with that parting smile? It spoke volumes. Has he taken fancy to me? Does he find me special? Do I interest him? 
Nah-uh. My silly-ass mind is probably playing tricks on me. He is so good-looking, a million girls would queue up for him in just one call. Who knows, he probably must be in a committed relationship already. And anyway, it is basic courtesy to greet a person, while meeting or parting. That must be the correct reason. Don't overthink, Y/N! Fucking don't!
I sigh loudly and close my notebook rather loud. My head is all muddled up with half-cooked thoughts by now, and I will have to complete my schoolwork by waking up early next morning to avoid getting into the bad books of my teachers. They are a stingy lot, for all I can say. How the fuck can anyone be so cautious in giving good grades to their own students? I always wonder.
I had better go give my head some rest now. A good night's sleep. I jump into my bed, not caring to make it, and cover myself with the large Korean mink blanket that’s my most prized possession, the last image occupying my mind being that of Yoongi. 
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softyoongiionly · 4 months ago
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Not Even a Mouse
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Summary:  The week before Christmas, you are tasked with delivering some paperwork to your father’s former business partner in order to secure your ownership of their legendary toy store. However, things don’t go as planned and a sudden blizzard keeps you cooped up inside the tiniest town you’ve ever seen, Snow Falls. You keep telling yourself that it’s the weather that’s keeping you here, but after a visit to Min’s Mini Mart, you aren’t so sure anymore…
Title: Not Even a Mouse
Pairing: Single Dad! Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Romance, FLUFF, Smut (18+ only please)
Warnings: explicit smut (penetration, love bites), language, mild angst, mentions of blood, really bad weather, mentions of bad parenting/abandonment (not Yoongi), swearing, brief mention of cancer, nightmares and anxiety
Word Count: 14.7k
Special thanks to: @bulletproofbirdy​ @gldnrecs​ for always being around and keeping me sane, and also for your incredible minds and contributions to the plot. I love you lots. To @yoonia​ @randombtsprincessa​ and @yeoldontknow​ thank you for hyping me up and being the cutest ever! I love you!
Author’s Note: This story is written for the Christmas in July project hosted by the INCREDIBLE @kookdiaries @kithtaehyung and @xiaokoo​! I am apart of the Hoeliday Well Spent theme, and I’m so excited for the amazing fics that are coming out! This fic is loosely inspired by the film, Christmas Inheritance. I hope you enjoy :D
“All commercial flights out of the northeastern region are delayed until further notice. Our expert team here at TXT613 is predicting that the winter storm will move into the surrounding cities of Candy Cane Lane, Sleighbells, Chestnut and, Snow Falls at around 6:30pm. This system of storms is gaining traction as we speak and is expected to bring about catastrophic snow fall in the regions on our screen. We advise those who are living or lodging in these cities to have the necessary supplies and prepare for a potential loss of power.”  
You’re leaning on your elbows, helplessly watching the screen. The bar you are sitting in his bustling with activity, but no one seems to pay much attention to the disturbing content playing through the speakers.
“Excuse me?” You call softly to the bartender, “How long do these things normally last?”
He cocks his head for a moment before glancing behind him at the screen, “The weather? Oh well-“ He chuckles as he sets a glass onto the countertop, “-if their predictions are correct, you’re looking at a delay of at least a few days, maybe even a week…”
Your eyes widen, “A week? But I’m supposed to be on a flight tomorrow morning…”
The bartender chuckles again, quite endeared by your whining, “Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen…” He glances at the insignia on your passport case, “…you’re here to meet with Mayor Sweetree, right?”
You continue to pout before narrowing your eyes in confusion, “How did you know?”
He smirks, “Small town. And uh-“ He points to your passport, “I recognize the logo, the fact that we have a famous toy inventor as our mayor is kind of this town’s only claim to fame.”
Marvin Sweetree was a long-time friend of your fathers. He helped start your father’s toy business, Sweet and Company, and invented many of the brand’s best-selling items. Marvin parted ways to settle down in a smaller city with his family, but still kept some of his share in the company. Recently, your father has decided to retire and pass along the business to you, with Marvin requesting that you meet with him in person to discuss a potential sale or future partnership. Your meeting was to take place this morning, but the mayor cancelled due to him needing to prep for the storm.
“He and I were supposed to meet at a place called The Snowman?” You question, not entirely sure if you remembered the name correctly, “But he sent me an email saying that he wouldn’t be able to meet for me until after the storm...”
You can hear your voice beginning to trail off as the stress of the situation you are now in is taking over. There was not enough in your carry-on suitcase for a week long trip in a town you were wholeheartedly unfamiliar with. Something about being trapped also caused the bitter flavor of anxiety to crawl slowly up your throat.
What the hell were you going to do?
Luckily, the bartender seems to notice your discomfort, and extends his hand your way.
“Hey-“ He calls, pulling you from the swell of panic, “I don’t believe I introduced myself…my name is Yeonjun.”
Still visibly uneasy, you shake his hand, “Y/N. Nice to meet you…”
Yeonjun flashes a wry smile, his black hair falling into his face momentarily before he speaks again, “So you’re not all alone in the middle of nowhere anymore huh? You now know the charming bartender who just so happens to be born and raised in Snow Falls.”
His comments put you at ease despite the fact that his confidence makes you roll your eyes a bit.
“Can the charming and incredibly humble bartender point me in the direction of somewhere to stay then? Since we’ve become friends so quickly?” You inquire, trying to ignore how charming he really was.
Yeonjun chuckles again, pleased that he was able to interest you, “I can. The Icicle Inn is just down the street; if you leave the bar and hang a left, you can’t miss it. If you need anything else- food, toiletries, novelty snow globes…” He elaborates, pointing a finger to his left, “I recommend Min’s Mini Mart. The owner, Yoongi, is a really nice guy and knows this town almost as well as I do.”
As he’s talking to you, you’re writing some of the info down in your phone and making a mental note of what you have in your suitcase.
“Got it.” You look up and shoot a genuine smile his way, “Thank you so much. I’ll definitely have to stop by- I only brought enough stuff to last me a few days.”
He nods with a bit of sympathy on his face, “I’m sorry you’re stranded. The conditions should clear up by the end of the week, so I wouldn’t worry about being put out for too long. But-“ His expression grows slightly serious, “-this storm is going to be brutal, so just make sure you’re indoors by tonight, ok? I don’t want to hear that we lost another tourist to the Yeti…”
Your eyes widen momentarily before Yeonjun starts laughing, waving his hand in dismissively.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding…” He laughs still, the volume increasing when you throw a stray toothpick his way, “…we banished him years ago.”
“I think your charm is starting to wear off.” You grumble, trying to stifle a smile at his infectious laughter.
“You admitting that I had any in the first place is good enough for me. I’m a bit out of practice when it comes to talking with strangers.”
A lone patron takes a seat on the stool beside you, looking at Yeonjun expectedly.
“Be right with you sir.” He smiles before taking a bit of a receipt paper and scribbling his info onto it, “Here’s my number- text me if you need anything. I live upstairs with my old man, if the Inn doesn’t work out, you’re free to crash on the couch.”
Placing your fingers on the thin material, you smirk fondly at the kind stranger behind the counter, “As long as the Inn isn’t haunted or housing bedbugs- I should be out of your hair. But seriously, thank you so much. I’ll be sure to leave a sterling review for-“ You lean over to catch a glance at the sign again, you hadn’t even bothered to read it when you came in earlier, “Blizzards and Billards…”
Yeonjun chuckles, “Oh you won’t find us on Yelp, my dad doesn’t believe in it. But please stop by before you head out though, yeah?”
You laugh, nodding a bit before scooting off of the stool, “I will. Thank you again.”
He gives you a half-hearted salute, keeping that same brilliant smile as turns to assist the man at the bar.
Your cheeks are a little hot as you navigate towards the front door; it’s been a while since anyone has sent any charm your way. You weren’t entirely sure if he was flirting with you, but he was handsome and made you feel visible, which is something you’re not used to.
Part of the reason you so desperately wanted to take over your father’s business is because of your current job. You work as an editor for a high-profile children’s book publisher, and although the job started out being everything you could have hoped for, you quickly realized that the company was only interested in turning a profit.
After one incredibly upsetting meeting, you had taken a taxi to your father’s office downtown and burst into his office with tears streaming down your face. It was on this day that he decided that you were the perfect person to take over his beloved business. He believed that you understood the true meaning behind the brand, and would never allow greed to stand in the way of the company’s mission.
Securing your coat around your body, you grit your teeth and face the bitter cold that awaits you. The main street of Snow Falls is beautiful. The entirety of the road is lined with various shops and offices that all seem to stack neatly upon one another, each of their rooftops blanketed with snow. The people of Snow Falls go about their business, unbothered by the impending storm.
Making your way to the Inn, you pass a young couple who lean into one another in an effort to shield themselves from the cold. They laugh as a particularly aggressive gust of wind whips through the town square, only causing them to huddle closer.
You won’t lie, the sight of them is bittersweet. Sweet, because of the love wafting through the winter air. Bitter, because you are left longing for it.
As promised, the Icicle Inn is hard to miss. It stands a few stories high with both fake and real icicles adorning the edges of its roof. The exterior is held together by a rich mahogany with white paneling running parallel and perpendicular. It looks like an old Tudor style home with an inviting wooden sign that reads:
The Icicle Inn est. 1899
Luckily for you, the Inn has plenty of vacancies and the owner was nice enough to through in a ‘shitty weather’ discount as they had aptly described it. Once you make it up to your room, you unpack your things to get an idea of what you needed from the store. You have enough clothes to last you for the next few days. You would worry about stopping by a local boutique if things got worse, but for now you figured you could mix and match with what you have. After going through your suitcase, your main issue seemed to be your lack of food and your lack of a proper blanket.
You wanted to buy a big fluffy one at the airport, but it had totally slipped your mind. In addition to your comfort items, you figured you might as well pick up some full-sized toiletry items just in case.
Min’s Mini Mart had been on the corner of the cross streets that lead to the bar and the Inn. You remember passing it on your way here, so it’s quite easy to retrace those steps to the storefront.
A shiny red sign with neat white letters hangs above the automatic doors, the outer edges of it caked in snow. You have to tighten your coat against another burst of wind as the doors slide open. Thankfully, the inside of the store is toasty and inviting, much like the other establishments in Snow Falls.
The typical fluorescent lights are nowhere to be found in Min’s Mini Mart, and neither are the loud signs which normally jump out at you the moment you walk in. Instead, you are met with warm lightening and hand written signs that neatly label different aisles and products. The store seems to be a one stop shop for groceries and necessities with a little bakery called Haneul’s tucked away in the corner.
You can’t see anyone in the store just yet, but the low hum of music coming from the speakers lets you know that it’s open for business. Making your way down the first aisle, you see some new snacks that are definitely enticing, but as you reach out for a bag of chips, there is a pitter-pattering that seems to sneak up behind you.
“Hello! Welcome to Min’sminimart-” A little voice seems to slur behind you,  “How can we help you today?”
Turning around, you are slightly confused when you aren’t immediately met with the figure this voice belongs to. You have to direct your eyes much closer to the linoleum to find the identity of your greeter. 
A boy, no more than six years of age, is smiling up at you with an eager disposition. With fluffy black hair and puffy little cheeks that rival cupid themself, he adjusts the tiny red sweater vest that adorns his torso and says, “Can I help you find anything, ma’am? We are having a big sale today!” 
Through the onslaught of adoration, you are a little concerned that this small child is running this store himself, but when you see that his name tag reads “Haneul” (instead of Yoongi) you breathe a sigh of relief. 
Maybe he’s the owner’s son?
“ Oh hi! I’m looking for some snacks to last me through the storm, do you have any favorites?” You inquire, trying to stifle the massive smile threatening your lips.
Haneul lights up, nodding eagerly, “Yeah! C’mon, I’ll show you!”
His little shoes create a musical against the flooring as he scampers off in front of you.
Picking up your pace, you do your best to keep up with him as he rounds the corner at the end of the household items aisle. Haneul comes to an abrupt stop in front of a series of chip bags before looking earnestly in your direction, “Do you like spicy?”
You almost giggle at the intensity of his tone, but you want to show him you take him seriously, “I love spicy.”
His gums peek out from his top lip, his satisfied grin stretching wide across his tiny face, “Me too! Appa never lets me have these ones though because they say-“ He narrows his eyes a bit as he drags his finger across the words, “ ex-treme spice-“ You bite your lip in admiration as he sounds the words out, “He says they are too spicy for me, but since you’re bigger than me- you’ll be ok.”
“Is your appa around here somewhere?” You inquire, still somewhat concerned that he is all alone.
As he is shoving several bags of spicy chips into your shopping basket he nods, “He’s in the back room counting things. He always counts things before a storm, cause sometimes things go missing.”
Silently, you breathe a sigh of relief that he is not, in fact, running the store himself, “Oh that’s a good idea. I’m sure you and your appa work really hard at keeping the store stocked up.”
He nods as he tucks two more bags of spicy chips into your already full basket, and you let him because how the heck are you supposed to tell this kid, no?
“Mhm…” He hums thoughtfully, “Our store got really messy after the last storm. Appa had to spend a long time cleaning it, but he wouldn’t let me help him because of the glass everywhere.”
“The glass?” Your eyes widen a bit as he grabs a hold of a packet of jawbreakers. “Were the windows broken?”
“You can eat these for a long time, so I think they will be good for the storm.” He explains, rather business-like. And again, you are in no position to question his judgement, “Yeah- people came into the store when Appa and I weren’t here and took some stuff without paying.”
Oh goodness.
“I’m so sorry.” You sympathize, “At least nobody got hurt right?”
He looks up at you with a grin, “Oh no! It’s okay, Appa said they were just hungry. He says that sometimes people can’t pay for the things they need, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need them still. So he wasn’t upset or hurt, he was just happy they got some food.”
This interaction is proving to be extremely heartwarming. The fact that this little boy seems to have so much insight into the world around him was truly impressive. Speaking with him has lifted your mood considerably, you almost forget that you are stranded in an unfamiliar place.
“Your appa sounds like a really nice man.” Your voice carries just above the background music whilst Haneul adds another piece of candy to your basket, “And he’s definitely right about people getting what they need, that’s very important.”
“He’s SO nice…” He confirms, his expression animated, “Unless he stubs his toe, then he says a lot of bad words. But he never says them to me, so it’s ok.”
You find yourself resisting the urge to coo at the small boy in front of you, but it’s growing more and more difficult. He leads you out of the snack aisle and just as you are about to respond, you hear the sound of footsteps coming from behind a black curtain.
“Appa! We have a customer!” Haneul chirps, taking off towards the sound.
“Be right out, adeul!” A much deeper voice responds, with a bit of raspiness on the end of it, “Is it Mrs. Acres? Just give her the bread that we wrapped up this morning, ok? Appa left it on the counter…”
Haneul snickers, “It’s a different Mrs. I don’t know her name yet, she is new…”
His observation makes you giggle, but it makes perfect sense in a town like this. You imagine that most people are on a first name basis.
With a bit more shuffling, you finally see a man emerge from the storage room. Something immediately shifts in your chest, your heart going a little wonky as you take in the sight before you. He is a spitting image of his son, with the exception of his black hair being combed down the nape of his neck and resting just above his soft brows. His lips are pink and pout naturally below his button nose, and his eyes are the same shade as Haneul’s but slightly darkened with his own experiences.
He's dressed casually, a pair of dark-washed denim jeans with a red flannel tucked in to the waistband. His black work boots clunk against the linoleum whilst he tries to get a good look at his surroundings, his eyes adjusting to the light.
“Appa, see? She’s new. I helped her find snacks for the storm.” Haneul points proudly to the shopping basket causing his father to chuckle, his expression decorated with adoration. But when he finally looks up to meet your eyes, his expression shifts rather quickly to something else.
“Oh, hello-“ He grins, straightening up a bit, and nodding to the basket “I see you met our employee of the month…”
You have to be subtle when you respond to ensure that your voice doesn’t crack under your nerves. It would be a crime to deny how unbelievably attractive this man is…
“Employee of the month huh? You never mentioned that…” You chide, smiling at Haneul who seems to shrink into his father’s side, a shy giggle leaving his mouth, “I sure did. He was very helpful, I can see why he’s your best employee.”
The man’s grin seems to broaden, his hand patting Haneul gently on the back, “He definitely makes me step my game up, that’s for sure.” He wipes his free hand on the front of his shirt before extending it towards you, his fingers long and rather elegant looking, “I’m Yoongi by the way, thank you for coming in. Did you just move to town?”
That pesky heart of yours stutters beneath your sternum as you shake his hand, “Y/N,” You smile, “No actually, I was here on business, but all flights out are cancelled due to the storm. I’m over at the Icicle Inn right now.”
Yoongi frowns as he releases your hand, “I’m really sorry to hear that. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your holiday. The flights usually resume schedule in a few days, so I’m sure you’ll be able to get home in no time.”
There is something about the way he speaks that compels you to believe him. Being a complete stranger, Yoongi shouldn’t be comforting, but his soft smile and even softer words soothe you.
“I hope you’re right-“ You smile, “I only brought enough stuff to last me a day or two.”
“You have the chips now!” Haneul pipes up proudly, “At least you won’t be hungry.”
His little voice makes your smile widen as you lift up your basket, “All thanks to you, Mr. Employee of the Month.”
He giggles shyly before turning to rub his face on his father’s shirt. Yoongi smirks, fondness blooming in his brown eyes. He scans over your basket, chuckling to himself when he notices the contents.
“You made some great choices, Han-ah.” He admires, not wanting to discredit his son’s decision to fill your basket up with chips and candy, “Can you go to the bakery and make sure all of the dough is rising? Appa has to get it in the oven soon…”
Haneul lights up at his assignment and nods eagerly, “Ok! Should I take pictures to show you like last time?”
Yoongi’s lips twitch and he retrieves his phone from his pocket, “That’s a good idea. Just make sure you have clean hands ok? We don’t want any Haneul cooties in the bread…”
The little boy narrows his eyes, “I don’t have cooties! You said they were all gone this morning.”
Yoongi nods earnestly, glancing over at you, “I did. They go away every time you wash up, remember? You have to wash up often so they don’t build up.”
Haneul groans, “Daaad. Don’t talk about this in front of strangers. Now Mrs. Y/N is going to think I’m gross.”
His logic makes you giggle, “I don’t think your gross at all! Everyone has to make sure they wash their cooties off.”
Haneul looks amazed, his little eyes scanning over your clean dress, “Even you?”
You nod, trying to keep a straight face, “Even me.”
He turns to his father, still slightly shaken by the news you’ve just delivered as he holds out his palm, “I promise to wash my hands.” He vows as he cocks his head, “Should I wash your phone too? Do phones get cooties?”
Yoongi shakes his head vehemently, “No, we don’t need to wash it. My phone would break if you put it in water, just make sure you clean your hands and dry them really good ok? Then come show me the pictures you took.”
Haneul is pleased with his answer, offering him a sweet smile before turning to you, “I’ll be right back ok? Don’t leave until I can tell you goodbye, it’s one of my jobs.”
And how could you refuse? Grinning, you offer a thumbs up and vow, “I’ll wait for you by the door, I wanna see those pictures too.”
Yoongi watches with an open mouthed grin whilst Haneul scampers happily towards the bakery. Shaking his head, he turns back to you and gestures to your basket, “I can take this from you. I’m sure you didn’t come in to buy 5 bags of spicy chips and uh-“ He cocks his head, his gums peaking out just like Haneul’s did as he chuckles, “-did he put jawbreakers in here?”
His grin makes your cheeks hot, the close proximity of him beginning to affect you.
“He did. He said I could eat them for a long time, so they would be good in a storm.”
Yoongi’s laughter increases a bit, settling the basket into the crook of his arm, “Aish, that kid. He’s too much.” His eyes meet yours now, and there seems to be something moving in the air between you, “If he asks, let’s just tell him I had the snacks delivered to your room, yeah?”
You’re mirroring his grin now as you reply, “Sounds like a plan. Although, to his credit- I do love spicy chips and jawbreakers. I just don’t think they are going to keep me very warm.”
He shakes his head, the remnants of a smile still on his lips, “I appreciate you entertaining him. He gets pretty nervous during storms so I’m sure meeting somebody new was a good distraction.”
You frown, “I can imagine. I’ve heard these storms get pretty brutal out here- Also, visiting your store has been the highlight of my trip so far. I would take hanging out with that kid over stuffy board meetings any day.”
Yoongi’s eyes light up with curiosity, “You came here for one of those meetings? Snow Falls isn’t usually the place for that sort of thing, unless you’re with a developer or something…”
The tone in his voice shifts at the end of his sentence, leaning towards something that resembles judgement. For some reason, you’re eager to reassure him that you aren’t some corporate vampire coming to rob Snow Falls of it’s small-town charm.
“No, I’m not. My job back home is in communications, but I’m supposed to take over my father’s business soon. That’s why I’m here actually- Mayor Sweetree is his former partner and he’s asked to meet with me to discuss the transfer.” You explain, your voice a bit wobbly with nerves.
Yoongi defrosts immediately, his supple lips now curving towards another smile, “The toy business, right? That’s where you’re taking over?”
Your body warms up at the thought of his approval, “Yeah!” You say a bit too loudly before nervously adjusting your volume, “That’s exactly where I’m taking over.”
He hears the increase in your voice, and chuckles warmly in response, his heightened ability to catch on to other people’s emotions allows him to sense a bit of nervousness coming from you, but he can’t for the life of him figure out why.
He only knows that he feels the same way.
“That’s really cool. I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job.” His warm expression hits you in the middle of the sternum, your mind swimming with different ways to keep him smiling, “I’m sorry you couldn’t have done this meeting by video, the mayor is a little-“ His features scrunch as he tries to find the right word, “-superstitious.”
You nod, your lips unable to stay in a straight line, “So I’ve heard. But honestly, it’s alright. I could use the adventure; my job has kept me from being able to travel anywhere interesting for far too long. It was unexpected but, I can’t complain…”
Yoongi smirks, “Neither can I.”
The way his voice seems to deepen does a number on you. It’s not clear whether or not he intended to flirt with you, and you’re doing everything you can to convince yourself that you are overthinking what he just said. Thankfully, Haneul interrupts your internal crisis,
“Appa! Uncle Kookie is calling…should I answer it?”
Yoongi makes sure you have everything you need before sending you on your way with a hefty discount and, assures you that if you need anything, he was around.
After you leave the store, you do your best to get his smile out of your head. Your week was already full of variables as it is, you really couldn’t afford to throw in another one.  
Still, it’s a difficult task. You don’t think you’ve ever felt a spark with a stranger before, but it was very possible that you had mistaken small town hospitality for flirting.  
He was really cute though.  
The first night of the storm hits like a ton of frozen bricks. The angry blanket of snow washes over the tiny town of Snow Falls like it held a grudge, and it made the Icicle Inn creak and groan all night. The next morning you spoke with your dad to inform him of all of the madness that had ensued over the last 24 hours.  
He administered a heavy dose of worry, expressing his doubts that you would make it back home before Christmas. Of course, you did your best to reassure him, making promises that you would be checking your travel app any chance you got to look for updates.  
The bit of positivity you had offered was quickly squashed when you received a call from the front desk informing you that one of the main pipes had frozen over, which would mean that the water was shut off until further notice.  
Wonderful.  
Slumping back against your pillows, you decide that you could probably manage without water for a little while, but when the TV shuts off- you decide that you’ve had enough.  
You call the front desk back and ask them if it was safe to go outside, they inform you that it was and recommended a coffee place just down the street.  
Bundling up in your thickest coat, you make your way down the icy road towards the quaint little building situated right beside Yoongi’s store. Even through all of the chaos, your mind can’t help but wander back to him.  
Attraction is annoying like that.  
On your way there, you decide to text Yeonjun to see if he has any alternative suggestions; you couldn’t hardly stay at an Inn without running water or electricity for your entire trip.  
You: So... 
You: The Inn lost power and water for the foreseeable future 
You: that couch of yours is sounding really good right about now 
He responds moments later. 
Yeonjun: RIP 
Yeonjun: I should have warned you about that, the Inn is hooked up to it’s own generator that usually takes a shit during blizzards 
Yeonjun: You’re welcome anytime, my old man drives trucks so he probably won’t be home until next week 
You don’t think it’s a great idea. But you aren’t sure what choice you’re going to have. You’d rather sleep on a strangers couch than go without your phone for more than 24 hours.  
Modernity is a curse.  
You: I’m going to get some caffeine in me and get back to you.  
You: I’m worried my technology-obsessed brain is making all of the decisions for me.  
Yeonjun: lol fair enough 
Yeonjun: just give me about an hour before you come by, I don’t want you to see all of my dad’s takeout boxes 
Yeonjun: or my dad’s clothes everywhere 
Yeonjun: He’s really messy 
You snort as you see his messages come through, quickly typing your reply before shoving your phone in your coat pocket. 
You: I’m sure HE is 
The coffee shop is adorable, much like the rest of the town, the smell of espresso immediately calming your nerves. 
No matter what city you’re in, walking into a coffee shop always makes you feel at home. There is something consistent about them, something you find extremely comforting. 
And speaking of comforting... 
“Appa, can I have EXTRA whipped cream this time? They don’t ever put enough.” A familiar little voice inquires behind you. 
You hear the same chuckle that made you smile the day prior, as another familiar voice answers him. 
“They put plenty, son. You just don’t eat it in time, I told you that the hot chocolate melts it.”  
“But can we just ask- pleaaaase? I will ask for a spoon too so I can eat it...” 
You hear Yoongi’s grin in his reply as you wonder whether or not to turn around,  
“We can ask.” He concedes, “But remember to be polite about it. These people work very hard, and they keep your Appa alive...” 
Haneul giggles, “No they don’t- your blood and guts keep you alive, that’s what you told me last week.” 
“Appa is different.” Yoongi explains matter of factly, “He runs on iced Americanos.”  
You bite your lip, trying not to laugh as you near the counter. 
“We should go to Dr. Namjoon then, maybe he can write you a precipitation...” 
You expect Yoongi to chuckle again at his mispronunciation, but he doesn’t. 
And instead he says, “Very good word, adeul. But that is the word for rainfall, remember? The word you’re thinking of is prescription.” 
“PreSCRIPTion...” Haneul tries out the word on his lips. 
“Good job. They sound similar huh?” 
“Yeah-”He sighs hopelessly, and you are honestly contemplating how one single child could be so adorable, “Appa, do you think that Mrs. Y/N will come back to our store? She was really nice...” 
Yoongi bites his lip at the thought of you. Truth be told, he was kind of wondering the same thing... 
Before he’s able to answer, you peek behind your shoulder to see if Haneul will catch a glimpse of you.  
And he most certainly does.  
“Mrs. Y/N!”  
He and Yoongi are both dressed in matching Christmas sweaters. Both of them are knitted together with royal blue wool and decorated with white snowflakes, and they are entirely too cute to handle. 
“Mr. Employee of the Month, how are you?” You bow your head slightly causing him to giggle, tugging Yoongi eagerly. 
“I’m fine thank you, and you?” He rushes out, rather rehearsed, “Did you finish all of your snacks? We have more at the store if you need them. We’re closed today...but I’m sure Appa can break in for you.”  
Yoongi laughs softly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. 
“I haven’t finished all of them yet actually, you helped me out so well that I probably won’t have to go back for a little while.” You assure him, “Good morning, Yoongi.” 
He nods toward you, a small and rather shy smile on his lips, “Morning. How was your first night?” 
“Well-” You start to answer him but you’re next in line, “One sec. Hi, good morning can I get a-” Your eyes scanning the menu, “-a large vanilla latte please? With an extra shot?” 
The barista nods as they punch your order into the computer, “Will that be all?” 
Yoongi cuts in, “And can we also get a kids hot chocolate with- EXTRA...” He winks down at Haneul, “whipped cream and a large, iced Americano.” 
He’s already pulling out his wallet before you even realize what’s happening, “Good morning Charley, did you and the folks make it through last night ok?” 
“Yoongi-” You protest but he ignores you playfully and hands a $20 to the barista. 
“Y/N-” He counters innocently. 
“It was ok, Yoongi, thanks.” They answer him, “Dad fell asleep with all the candles on, but thankfully we only use the self-extinguishing ones now.”  
Yoongi chuckles, “That’s probably for the best, I’m glad everyone’s doing ok. Keep the change yeah? Tell your folks I said hi...” 
“Thank you, Yoongi.” They smile, throwing the change into the tip jar, “I’ll call your name when it’s ready.” 
You're still looking at him in disbelief, “Thank you, Yoongi-” You complain as the three of you move off to the side. 
“Appa, why is everyone calling you Yoongi? I thought only grandma and grandpa called you that...” Haneul chimes in, rather confused. 
“Yoongi is my name, just like Haneul is your name. Everyone else but you calls me Yoongi.” He explains patiently. 
“Nu huh, not everyone. Uncle Kookie calls you hyung...” 
“That’s very true, but hyung is just a term of respect because I’m older than him. You’ve heard him call me Yoongi-hyung right?” 
Haneul’s eyes light up, “Oh yeah, that’s true. It’s so weird that you have a name.” He glances at you, seemingly remembering your presence, “Do you like our matching sweaters? Appa made them with the ladies from the bingo nights, aren’t they pretty?” 
You’re smiling at the small boy beside you, loving the way that he hops from one point to another.  
“Did he?” You look to Yoongi, who immediately straightens up, growing rather shy now that the attention is on him, “They are beautiful! He did such a job with them. Are they new?” 
Haneul nods, his smile widening, “Yeah! He makes us new ones every year, but this one is my favorite because it’s blue- our favorite color.” 
Yoongi is watching the two of you, his heart filling up with something that he has never felt before.  
Something that he feels the need to dismiss rather quickly.  
You gasp, “Your favorite color is blue? Mine too! It’s the best color huh?” 
Haneul tugs Yoongi’s hand excitedly, “It is?!? Appa you should make her a sweater too, so she can match with us.” 
Yoongi’s lips part and you shift slightly at the weight of Haneul’s suggestion. He’s too young to understand what he’s said, and thankfully the barista is calling Yoongi’s name before either of you have to address it. 
The three of you sit a nearby table, your conversation shifting to slightly less complicated topics.  
“How are you liking the Icicle Inn? Haneul and I have only ever been there for events and stuff, are the rooms nice?” 
Yoongi asks over the rim of his Americano, not even flinching at either the taste or the temperature. 
“It’s really nice but the power and the water went out last night. The front desk called me this morning to tell me that they weren’t sure when they were going to get it back on.” 
Yoongi frowns, suddenly looking very concerned, “Really? They don’t have even have an ETA for the maintenance team?” 
You shake your head, feeling the weight of your discomfort all over again, “They said they would call with an update as soon as they can. But they offered me a refund for the remainder of my stay, so that can’t be a good sign.” 
Haneul is distracted by his drink but when he opens up his lid, he looks expectantly up at Yoongi, “Excuse me, Appa?” 
If this kid was any cuter, you would probably implode. 
“Yes?” Yoongi murmurs softly, patting his back. 
“Did you get me a spoon?” 
“Oh! Yeah, let me go grab one for you, son. One second...”Yoongi slips out of his seat and rushes over to the bar top before coming back with the utensil in hand, handing it over to a very happy Haneul, “Here you go.” 
“Thank you!” He smiles, whipped cream on his nose. 
Yoongi chuckles, using the pad of his thumb to wipe it off, “You’re welcome, Rudolph.” 
As he takes his seat, Yoongi looks a little nervous again, his eyes flitting towards Haneul who is now fully engrossed in his mission to eat all of the whipped cream out of his cup. 
“I’m really sorry you’re in such a rough situation. I wish I was better at predicting the weather but-” His hand finds its way to the back of his neck, “Haneul and I normally make stew on the first day of winter storms, you’re more than welcome to come over and take a shower and charge your phone if you need to.” 
“Oh- Yoongi, you’re really nice but I wouldn’t want to impose...” 
“Wait no! Can you come please? Appa- can she? I finally show someone the dollhouse you made for me!” Haneul pipes up yet again, destroying any sense of logic you have left in you. 
Yoongi just raises a brow, fighting the smile that’s threatening to take over his lips, “She is welcome to come over, if she wants to. It would be our pleasure.” 
He knows that you are declining for the sake of politeness, but he’s still nervous of rejection.  
He would be lying if he said he was only inviting you over to be kind, he had his own reasons for wanting to spend more time with you.  
Even if it was a little risky... 
“If it’s not any trouble-” You begin, shooting a pointed glance at Yoongi, “-then I would love to come over.” 
“Yay!” 
Yoongi and Haneul walk you back to the Icicle Inn so that you can collect some of your things before the three of you hop into Yoongi’s black pickup truck and drive down the main road towards their home.  
When you finally arrive, the sight of the brick cottage tucked away against the snowy trees makes your heart flutter around in your chest. It was picturesque, resembling something out of every Hallmark movie ever, and you’re suddenly forgetting that you’re stranded in this town in the first place.  
For the first bit of the evening, Haneul gives you the grand tour, whilst Yoongi begins to prepare the ingredients for dinner. Even though Haneul is reluctant to do so, Yoongi eventually convinces him to let you have some alone time to shower. 
The hot water against your skin did more than the latte had, and for the first time in 48 hours, you started to feel like a person again.  
Dinner was incredible. Haneul had been bragging about Yoongi all night, explaining to you that his dad could do anything in the whole world, which of course led to Yoongi overflowing with modesty.  
The weather worsening outside, leads Yoongi to explain that he probably wouldn’t be able to take you back until the morning. He profusely apologizes for his lack of foresight, but you’d be kidding yourself if you said you weren’t happy to spend more time with them.  
During the cleanup after the meal, you insisted on sharing the duties with Yoongi. It’s at this time, you learn a bit more about the little family that had already begun to steal your heart,  
“Is it just you two?” You breach the topic casually, not wanting to be too invasive. 
Yoongi nods, “Just us. My family comes out here often, most of them live over in Chestnut.” 
Smiling, you focus on rinsing off one of the wooden spoons he hands you, before inching towards your next question. The lack of ring on Yoongi’s left hand did not escape you. The observation had been lingering on your mind for quite some time, “That’s great that everyone lives close. Does his mom live there too?” 
Yoongi smirks to himself, knowing very well where this conversation was headed. 
He’s had to have it many times. 
“I’m not sure actually, I haven’t seen her since Haneul was born.” Before you’re able to ask any follow-up questions he adds, “We were young. She took off as soon as they discharged her from the hospital. And before you ask, yes I’m ok and no, I don’t ever plan on reaching out to her; I will leave that up to him, when he’s ready.” 
He has a bit of humor in his voice, so you’re really hoping you didn’t offend him, but the anxiety in you compels you to say something anyway, “I didn’t mean to pry-” 
“You didn’t...” He smiles, handing you a soapy bowl, “...and that’s why I told you.” 
You feel relieved, returning his smile as you take the bowl from him, “He’s an incredible kid. You’ve done an amazing job with him.” 
Yoongi’s heart fills with pride, but he brushes you off, keeping humility at the front of his mind, “He’s done an amazing job with me. I’m not sure where I would have ended up without him.”  
And he leaves it at that, and so do you.  
But the silence that falls over you isn’t uncomfortable, none of what has happened between you is. 
After he makes sure you have everything you need on the couch, Yoongi gestures towards his bedroom, “I’m just in there if you need anything. Again, I’m really sorry about tonight. I promise you the couch is really comfortable though, I’m still paying it off...” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck again. 
“It’s totally fine. I’m actually relieved to stay somewhere with electricity...” You murmur, laughing lightly, “Honestly, thank you. You have been so-” You wrack your brain for the right word, but your attraction to him gets in the way, “-good.” 
He raises a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching, “Good?” 
You clear your throat, “Yes, good. You’ve been good. Actually, you’ve been great, good and great. G and G.” 
He snickers, a little of judgement in his eyes, “G and G. Is that a slang term where you’re from?” 
“Nope...” You want to smack yourself for how silly you sound, “I just made it up right now. Cute, right?” 
He cocks his head, and with a smirk he says, “Very cute.”  
And he really doesn’t sound like he’s talking about the same thing anymore... 
“Goodnight.” You wave as he turns around to head towards his room. 
“Goodnight.” He calls softly, still smirking a bit to himself as he shuts the door.  
Good grief.  
G and G. 
Yoongi hadn’t been wrong about the couch, it was incredibly comfortable. After he went to bed, you immediately fell into a deep sleep, relishing in the way the cushions encompass your entire body.  
You are awoken far too soon however, to the sound of hiccupping coming from Yoongi’s room. Groggily, you wipe your eyes as you try to assess the source of the sound.  
It’s then you notice Yoongi’s bedroom door open, the light from his bedside lamp flooding the space. You can vaguely make out the fact that he is sitting up with something cradled in his arms, and when the hiccupping resumes, your heart sinks as you realize what’s happening. 
“Ap-Appa! It was really scary, the monsters were chasing me and- and – and I couldn’t- I couldn’t get a-way! My feet weren’t mo-moving a-at all!” Haneul is crying, sobbing actually as he clings desperately to his father’s shirt. His little face is stained with tears and tucked into the crook of Yoongi’s neck.  
“Sh sh sh, it’s ok. Appa is right here hm? You’re safe here, it was just a bad dream.” Yoongi’s raspy voice is soothing even to you as his large hand rubs gentle circles on Haneul’s back, “Can we take a deep breath just like Appa does when he gets scared? Do you remember how?” 
“N-No...” Haneul is overwhelmed again and starts sobbing, “I don’t want Appa to be scared!” 
“Hey hey—Appa isn’t scared right now. This is just how Appa breathes when he gets scared, ready? I’m going to show you....” Yoongi leans him back just a bit, keeping his motions slow, “Appa takes a deep breath like this...” He takes in a breath through his nose, keeping his eyes on his son, before blowing cool air through his pursed lips over Haneul’s heated face, “In through our noses and out through our mouths, can you try one with me?” 
Haneul nods, tiny hands gripping his dad’s shoulders like a life raft. 
The two of them breathe together and when Haneul puffs out a clumsy breath onto Yoongi’s face, he finally loosens up and giggles. 
“Good boy-” Yoongi chuckles, patting his back, “Can you try one more?” 
Haneul nods again, repeating the same steps with his dad until he visibly relaxes in his arms, his tiny body exhausted from all of the adrenaline. 
“Are you feeling a little better?” Yoongi murmurs softly, his thumb brushing away more of his tears. 
“Y-yeah...” Haneul mumbles, still gripping his t-shirt, “Thank you, Appa.” 
Yoongi smiles with all of the adoration one person could possess, “You’re welcome, love. Let’s get you cleaned up really quick ok?” He leans in to kiss the top of his head before reaching for the tissue box on his nightstand. Clumping up a few of them, he holds them up at Haneul’s nose before telling him to blow into the wadded tissue.   
He sets that aside before gathering one or two more and wiping the rest of his tears, “There we go, there’s my handsome son...do you want some water?”  
When Haneul nods, Yoongi reaches for the blue water bottle he had filled up for him before bed and hands it to over.  
After a few big gulps Haneul murmurs, “Can I sleep in here with you? I’m too scared to go back yet...” 
And of course Yoongi says yes, because if you thought you were powerless against Haneul, you were wrong.  
No one could ever compete with Yoongi on that one.  
You tuck back into the couch, not wanting them to know you had woken up.  
And as you’re drifting off to sleep, you can hear two voices coming from the bedroom, each of them so alike and so different at the same time. 
“I love you Appa.” 
“And Appa loves you.” 
Boy, you were in trouble. 
The next few days almost don’t feel real to you. Yoongi drives you back to the Inn the following morning, only to find out that everything was still down. After some discussion, Yoongi reassures you that you would be absolutely welcome to stay at his place until the airports reopen.  
And honestly, you aren’t really in any position to deny him...for multiple reasons.  
The weather worsens, but your time in Snow Falls certainly does not. Yoongi and Haneul ensure that you are properly entertained and properly fed. You seem to nestle into their routine quite easily, and it almost feels like you’ve done this all before.  
Like you’ve never been anywhere else.  
It’s scary but, maybe it’s possible that something is in the air, like maybe Christmas miracles are a thing.  
You and Yoongi fell into a bad habit of flirting when Haneul goes to bed, but it never progresses anywhere. However, you’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t notice how much you felt towards this man already.  
There was something between you, but you just couldn’t get a hold of it. Every time it would pass you by, it was as if you were too afraid to grasp at it.  
It was too real.  
When the three of you get back from the mini mart, roughly six days from the start of your trip, Yoongi snorts as he sees a foreign object parked in front of his house. 
It’s a black Cadillac with tinted windows and incredibly out of place in Yoongi’s quaint little driveway. 
“Who’s car is that?”  
“Appa! Uncle Kookie’s car is here!” Haneul answers for him, now bouncing in the middle seat with excitement, “Is he here for a surprise?” 
Yoongi chuckles, “I guess so.” He replies before addressing your question, “My brother does this a lot- I should have given you a heads up.” 
Haneul is practically climbing over you as Yoongi puts the car in park, causing you to laugh even as his father reprimands him.  
“Ah ah- say excuse me please.”  
“Excuse me!!!” Haneul laughs as he takes off running towards the front door. He yanks it open, eyes scanning the room for his favorite intruder as you and Yoongi trail behind him. 
“Uncle Kookie? Are you here?!” He yells into the living room. 
A beat of silence passes before a voice that is falsely deepened rings out from the behind the kitchen wall, “Uhhh excuse me? What are you doing in my house?! I don’t remember inviting anyone over...” 
This pleases Haneul beyond belief, his little giggle echoing off of the walls, “Nu huh! This is mine and Appa’s house! You are OUR company! Uncle Kookie- I know it's you! 
“Cookie?! I am not a Cookie! I am a human person, good sir! And who is this Appa you speak of?” The voice sounds affronted, “He sounds smelly...” 
Haneul is doubled over in laughter, his cheeks the color of cherry tomatoes as he stumbles eagerly towards the voice, “No, my Uncle Kookie is a PERSON-” He emphasizes through his laughter, “I just call him Uncle Kookie because of his name! Come out so I can check if you are him!” 
The voice falters for a moment, “This uh- this Uncle Kookie of yours, is he pretty cool?” 
Haneul nods with enthusiasm, “He’s so cool! He has a fast car and pictures all over his arms, and he’s SUPER strong-” 
“Hmmm-” The voice muses, “He sounds VERY cool. It’s almost like he’s cooler than your Appa, huh?” 
Yoongi rolls his eyes and Haneul immediately flashes a worried look towards his father. 
“Well only a liiiiitttle bit.”  
Yoongi and you snicker at Haneul’s honesty, loving how guilty he looks as he says it. 
From around the kitchen corner, the voice booms, “That’s my boy!” He cheers before a man finally shows up at the end of the walk-way, “GET OVER HERE, SPIDERMAN!”  
“MR. STARK!” Haneul screeches as he takes off running towards his Uncle. When the man bends over to catch him in his arms, you finally get a good look at him.  
He is slightly taller than Yoongi and dressed in all black. His winter flannel is hung over the back of the couch which explains why he’s stood in the house in just a tank top. You can see that both of his muscular arms are covered in a series of intricate tattoos and that his right eyebrow is adorned with a piercing. Silver hangs from his ears and neck, and his giant doc martens pair well with the sound of Haneul’s little feet dancing across the wood.  
He wraps around his uncle like a spider monkey, arms and legs securing themselves as best as they can on his torso.  
“How is my favorite nephew???” Jungkook’s mouth is fixed in a wide grin as he hugs him as tight as he can, standing up with his nephew still attached. 
“Good!” Haneul giggles as the two of them get closer to where you and Yoongi are stood, “I missed you. How did you get here through all of the snow?” 
“Becaaaause I missed my nephew and-” He glances toward Yoongi, “my brother, and-” He pauses as his eyes fall on you. He turns to whisper loudly in Haneul’s ear, “Who is that lady with your Appa?” 
Haneul is laughing yet again at his uncle’s antics, “That’s Mrs. Y/N. She’s our new friend, she got stuck here cause of the snow...” 
Jungkook smirks, his eyes finding his older brother’s, “A friend huh?” He speaks at a normal volume before doing the same loud whisper into Hanuel’s ear, “Is she nice?” 
Haneul giggles as he nods once more, “She’s really nice, I think Appa likes her too…”
“Alright-“ Yoongi cuts in smoothly, causing his younger brother to snicker mischievously, “You didn’t tell me you were coming, I would have told you to wait. Did you drive here????”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you- and no I didn’t drive here-“ He says matter of factly, despite the fact that his car is literally sitting out front, “I flew here, didn’t I?” He asks Haneul, “In my War Machine Mark!”
Haneul laughs for the millionth time, clinging to him as he nods exuberantly, “Yeah! Appa, Uncle Kookie only brings his car as a cover up, or else Thanos will find him…”
Jungkook winks at Yoongi, “Yeah hyung, we’ve told you this a hundred times. Haven’t we?” He asks Haneul, who nods through his laughter before pointing at Jungkook’s face, “Y/N, this is my Uncle Kookie I was telling you about! I told you he’d be here for Christmas, he never misses it!”
Affectionately, Haneul places his hands on both of Jungkook’s cheeks and smushes his face together, snickering as his uncle’s features become slightly deformed. With a smushed face, Jungkook extends a hand towards you,
“Nice to meet you,” He says, his words slightly muffled my Haneul’s affection, “I’d say that I’ve heard so much about you, but my hyung here never tells me anything.”
You giggle, leaning forward to shake his hand firmly before releasing it, “Well I’ve definitely heard a lot about you. It’s nice to put a face to the famous Uncle Kookie.”
Jungkook smiles now and its far sweeter than anything you’ve seen from him so far, “Was that you huh? Were you bragging about me?”
Haneul is cuddled into him now, a small grin on his face, “Mhm.”
Jungkook flashes a look towards Yoongi, something wordless moving between them before he shifts Haneul onto his hip.
“So what’s for dinner, hyung? All of that flying has me STARVING…” He sings dramatically, smirking as Haneul laughs yet again.
It’s one of his favorite sounds.
Originally, Yoongi had planned to order takeout from a local restaurant, hoping to get it in before the storm picked up again.
But Jungkook showing up resurrected his desire to make another homecooked meal, wanting nothing more than to ensure that his younger brother was well-fed.
You knew that Jungkook arriving was special to Haneul, but you didn’t quite understand the significance until you overheard a conversation between the two of them on the way back from the restroom.
“Uncle Kookie- can I see your scar again?”
From around the corner of the hallway, you see Jungkook adjust his shirt to show off what Haneul asked for.
“It’s looking better!” He cheers with a smile, “Did the stuff Appa and I made for you work?”
You hear Jungkook chuckle, “Yeah it did. It’s fading a lot huh? I put on that stuff every day…”
“Whoa- that’s so cool.” The little boy muses, “That means you’re not sick anymore right?”
Your heart sinks.
“That’s right. All of the doctors took out all of the sickness last year, remember? Now I just have to go back for check-ups to make sure it doesn’t grow back.”
“It won’t right?” Haneul immediately sounds worried.
“Nahhhh of course not.” He chuckles, “I’m IronMan, remember? I’ll always be around…that’s why I kicked it’s butt so hard the first time.”
Haneul sighs, “I think I hate cancer more than Thanos.”
Jungkook pulls him in for a hug then, allowing him to settle on his chest before murmuring, “Me too, spiderman.”
Yoongi’s family has been through so much, you think, and you’ve barely even scratched the surface.
And although you didn’t know Jungkook, you’re very happy to hear that he’s better; you couldn’t imagine what that must have been like for him.
The two of them don’t remain still for very long and just before dinner, they break out into an all-out NERF war that Yoongi has to squash once they nearly break one of his vases.
He also reassures you that Haneul doesn’t own any NERF guns, and that he only allows him to play with them when Jungkook is around.
He’s not a huge fan of toys like that.
You offer to help Yoongi with the dishes after dinner, so that Jungkook can watch a movie with Haneul, which he explains will have them both falling asleep within a half hour.  
And as you take your place beside him, the smell of the sudsy water reminds you of the many nights you spent alone in your apartment. Your coffee table rarely ever clear because it was always haphazardly decorated with meeting notes and projects you had no passion for. Loneliness had been a constant friend since you moved downtown. The scent of the mild dishsoap brings you right back to all of those evenings spent wondering what it would be like to have a partner washing the cutlery beside you.
What would it be like to share the small space of a studio kitchen with another person, to feel their presence, to bump into them accidentally, to have them wrap their arms around you, staining your shirt with dishwater…
It was a niche daydream, you’ll admit. But the sound of Yoongi dragging the sponge across the ceramic of the plate feels like home.
He feels like home.
“So what’s the verdict?” Yoongi murmurs beside you with a slight quirk to his lips, “Did you like everything?”
He’s obviously referring to the steak and steamed vegetables he had presented to you earlier, but the question coming in the midst of your train of thought makes you want to spill your guts to him.
“It was amazing, as usual.” You compliment, “If you ever decide to branch out in the restaurant industry, the top chefs are gonna be in a lot of trouble…”
He snorts and shakes his head, but his cheeks turn the color of compliments, “You’re too much. The method I used was new, but I saw Chef Baek do this on his recent special, and I figured I’d try it out.”
You grin, “Chef Baek would be very proud.” His cheeks darken as he passes you a soapy bowl your way, “I can’t remember the last time I ate so well- aside from coming here the other day. My attempts at cooking never really panned out…” You trail off before turning to Yoongi, who is already looking at you with utter disgust, despite the growing smile on his lips, “…get it?”
He rolls his eyes, nudging you playfully with his elbow, “Just because I’m a dad, does not mean I appreciate dad jokes. Even if that one was kinda good.”
“Kinda?!” You whine whilst minding your volume; There are two sleeping boys in the next room.
Yoongi snickers, “Yeah kinda. You’re lucky that I even gave you that rating. When my older brother Jin tells them, I usually just leave the room.”
“Your sense of humor needs to be refined, Min Yoongi. Dad jokes are a work of art…”
He finds it ironic that you would describe art and not recognize the masterpiece that is your face, but he continues to keep the mood light. If he uttered every single thing he thought about you, you’d think he was out of his mind.
To be fair, he kinda felt like he was…
“Art is subjective.” He counters, “But if they make you laugh, then I can’t really hate them too much.”
Something about his response makes your stomach turn the same way it has been all week. The same way it turns every time he subtly makes you feel like he might be reciprocating the rapidly developing feelings inside your heart.
“No? Why is that?” You press for the first time, still attempting to remain casual.
Yoongi’s scrubbing slows down, “Because I like your laugh.”
You mirror him in a way, allowing your focus to slowly unfurl from the sink, lips parting as the two of you face each other.
“My laugh?” You breathe, “Why?”
Yoongi wets his lips subconsciously, not trying to intensify the moment but the way your mouth parts, makes him thirst for something he’s never tasted.
“It’s cute.”
Swallowing, you wonder if the urge you’re feeling to lean closer to him is going to end well. But you struggle to find the will to resist any longer.
Your heart increases slightly, your lips now on a mission separate from the logical side of you. Yoongi’s lips seem to be on the same trajectory, the faucet running carelessly in the background as he desperately wishes his hands weren’t covered in soap.
In your clouded decision to give in to all of the desires that have been slowly brewing over the past week, you make the crucial mistake of forgetting that you are rinsing off a large kitchen knife.
The sound of metal clanking against the bottom of the sink causes both you and Yoongi to jump, and before you realize it, you can feel a stinging sensation across the tip of your left index finger. Yoongi catches the sight of blood immediately, his parental instincts taking over.
“Oh shit-“ He mutters as he springs into action, “Are you ok? Let me help- we need to run your finger under the water, I have a first aid kit in the drawer by the oven.”
You’re not really sure what he’s referring to, your lips still very focused on their original plan, but given that Yoongi seems a little frazzled, you decide to look over to assess the issue.
Eyes widening, you finally spot the red liquid oozing out of the small cut on your index finger.
“Oh wow, I didn’t even feel that-“ You muse, somewhat concerned at your ability to be distracted, “Shit, I’m getting blood all over your sink, I’m so sorry.”
Yoongi’s face wrinkles in disbelief, “Are you seriously apologizing to me for bleeding?”
You laugh at his expression, “I’m just saying it looks like a crime scene in here, I don’t even think the cut is that big.”
He shakes his head, “It probably isn’t, cuts like this have a tendency to bleed a lot.” Through his explanation, you are faced with the task of handling the feeling of his long fingers gently securing themselves around your wrist.  His touch scatters electricity across the surface of your skin, the grip he employs incredibly delicate, just like the rest of him.
“Is that ok?” He murmurs, eyes focused entirely on the task at hand.
You curse yourself for the intrusion, wishing desperately that he was touching you for an entirely different reason.
“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt-“ You assure him, “I don’t think I would have noticed if I hadn’t heard the knife fall…”
The corner of his mouth turns up a bit, “Me neither.”
You see him swallow then, his lips moving uncomfortably around the dryness in his mouth. He reaches out to turn the tap off before grabbing a clean dish towel from beneath the sink.
“Here- wrap this around your hand while I grab the first aid kit.”
Wordlessly, you nod and do exactly as he instructed but your eyes stay on him all the while, watching with adoration as he fusses around the kitchen.
“Do you have a first aid kit in every room?” You tease, remembering quite well that you saw one in the bathroom the other day.
“In most rooms yes. You’ve met my son,” He points out, chuckling to himself, “And now you’ve met my younger brother- between the two of them, I go through a lot of band aids.”
He’s guided you over to the fridge now, his hands gently undoing the little white box before searching through its contents. His reasoning makes you giggle, which only broadens the grin on his lips.
“There it is again-“ He points out the sound, his eyes flickering up towards your face momentarily before pulling out the Neosporin.
The comment makes your heartbeat level up, your toes wiggling in the confines of your shoes as your body tries to work out all of the feelings inside of it.
Silence settles over the two of you for the moment, with the only sound coming from Yoongi unscrewing the cap on the tube. The wind is whistling rather violently outside of the house, but it does nothing to distract you from fixating on the movements of his fingers. With a tiny glob of Neosporin, he moves over the small laceration and begins dabbing some over the length of it. You can hardly feel it, his touch featherlight and nearly shaking beneath the weight of his precision. And yet, just like the everything about him, you are captivated.
Yoongi’s doing his best to focus on tending to your wound, but he can feel your eyes on him. They are resting somewhere between the tip of his nose and his bottom lip, and he is worried that if he looks up, he’s going to abandon his current mission.
So he settles for a snarky comment, as usual.
“This is a lot harder with you staring at me-“ He chuckles uneasily, his cheeks returning to that same shade of pink.
And this time, you smirk, enjoying how quickly you can fluster him, “I believe in you.” You retort, “Looking at you makes it hurt less…”
His teeth and gums are out now, his smile fully formed but his eyes are far from meeting yours, “I thought you said it didn’t hurt.”
You bite your lip, “The adrenaline is wearing off.”
He shakes his head, his teeth now mirroring your own as they find his bottom lip, “That’s not exactly what I was hoping for.”
Your brows raise, your heartbeat finding its way up your throat once more, “No? What were you hoping for?”
Yoongi’s chest rises with the depth of his breath, his fingertips smoothing over the top of the band-aid that now adorns the circumference of your finger.  
Finally, he looks up at you, mouth parted with the instability in his breath. There is something hidden inside his pupils, something that has been trapped for a long time, something you want to release…
“I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing anymore.”
You lick your lips, which causes Yoongi’s eyes to immediately find them, the desire for you nearly unbearable.
“I think we are-“ With your response, you allow your fingers to curl around one of his. And as you summon all the bravery within you, you whisper, “-but just to be sure, you were talking about kissing me right?”
Yoongi can feel the rasp in your voice as it travels down to the base of his stomach, his body flushing hot with desire as he watches the movement of your hand. It’s just his finger your gripping, but he is overcome with the thought of it being another part of him.
He nods, not trusting the ability to speak at the moment, lips slowly beginning to chase yours, before he hesitates.
“Do you- do you want me to kiss you?” He whispers, eyes leaving yours to find your lips instead.
Your palm cups the outside of his cheek, which is incredibly warm to the touch, your pinky resting near the corner of his mouth. Without responding, you brush the tip of your pinky over his top lip, marveling at just how soft he is, and repeating the same motion on the bottom lip too.
Yoongi’s breath rushes between your pinky and ring finger, and after holding each other’s gaze once more, you finally give in and kiss him.
And his mouth is nearly dried out with anxiety, but this is easily remedied by your eager tongue as it peeks just under his top lip. You can feel the grip he has on your waist, tender but deliberate, just like the rest of him. The kiss is messy, the two of you entirely out of practice and consumed with desire, but even as you bump noses, you couldn’t find the will to care.
You want him, all of him, in every way there is to want.
Yoongi’s hands are getting braver as he presses his hips against yours, the feeling of your body doing a number on his self control.
Still tucking into your mouth, he presses the tips of his fingers just above your ass, as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. The couplet of sensations elicits the tiniest sound from the back of your throat, but it’s enough to drive him crazy.
“Fuck-“ He grunts hungrily, and without thinking, he pushes you up against the refrigerator. The sound of the magnets falling to the floor feels much more like an avalanche, the whole world stopping in the wrong way, the two of you rendered frozen.
Disconnected from the kiss, Yoongi rushes over to peek around the corner of the kitchen, to assess the damage.
“Who’s there?” Jungkook’s sleepy voice grumbles, his nerf gun pointed in the air, eyes half open as he grips Haneul against his chest.
“Just us- we dropped something in the kitchen. Go back to sleep…” You hear Yoongi assure him, and thankfully Jungkook accepts his answer, mumbling something incoherent before his head falls back against the cushions.
Slowly, he turns back to you with a look of disbelief, “I literally have no words…”
And you’re giggling now, with your hand over your mouth, trying your best to keep quiet but really struggling when he starts to chuckle along with you.
“Your kitchen is cursed.” You whisper through your laughter, glancing at the magnets scattered on the floor. Instinctively, you move to collect them, but Yoongi’s suggestion stops you in your tracks.
“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”
He sounds nervous but entirely sure of himself, some of his buried confidence surfacing in the face of his arousal.
He wants you, all of you, in every way there is to want.
You bite your lip, which already misses the feeling of his tongue, “Yeah- we can come back and clean up, or whatever…”
He chuckles, holding out his hand as he flicks the switch on the wall, “Yeah… or whatever.” The kitchen light is reduced to nearly nothing, the only visibility provided by the light from the living room television.
The two of you tiptoe down the hall, careful not to disturb the two sleeping boys cuddled up on the sofa. Yoongi leads you into the darkness of his bedroom, and as he shuts the door his fingers hesitate at the knob.
“Is it ok with you if I lock it? He forgets to knock a lot of the time…” He murmurs, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but dreading the thought of his son wandering into his bedroom.
“Of course-“ You reply, “Do you think he’s gonna wake up?”
The sound of the lock clicking in place is much louder given the meaning behind it, and Yoongi is already making a move to be closer to you as he replies, “No I don’t think so-“ His hands are back on your waist again, “-if he does, Jungkook will help him with whatever he needs.”
And Yoongi feels really selfish as the words leave his lips. He hasn’t had a night away from Haneul since he was born, and even though he is just in the next room, he feels guilty for putting himself first.
“Ok good-“ You whisper, and the palm of your hand is caressing his face now as you giggle softly, “Hi…”
He sighs in relief, still a little frazzled regarding everything that’s transpired over the past thirty minutes, “Hi…”
When you lean in to peck his lips, you’re anticipating that there will be no more interruptions, but Yoongi squashes this dream of yours rather quickly.
“Wait-“ He breathes, trailing off into a bout of snickering when you groan, “Just let me set the mood really quick…”
The feeling of his body detaching itself from you is absolute agony, even though his careful movements towards the candles on his dresser are incredibly endearing.
You come up behind him, watching his shaky hands attempt to light the wicks. He can feel your presence, his heart hammering away in his chest whilst he tries to focus. Thankfully for him, you wait until the candles begin to glow with warmth before deciding to put your hands on him. Dragging your nails lightly through the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck you coax his head to the side to accommodate your desire to kiss on him.  
He swallows, eyes falling shut as you sponge wet kisses along the fault line of his sanity. With his hands lingering in front of him, he surrenders to your motions on his skin, the entirety of him touch-starved; it’s been so long since he’s done anything like this.
Your lips are making the journey up his neck, delighting in the way he seems to shiver beneath you, “I think the mood has been set, don’t you?”
Yoongi lets out the breath he was holding, moving just enough so that he can turn around in your arms. He catches a glimpse at you for the moment, before rushing into another kiss, his lips connecting to yours with the same eagerness he had in the kitchen.
His hands slide underneath your sweater, sighing out at the feeling of your skin, all of it so much better than he could have imagined.
You’re walking him back towards the bed, kissing at his lips all the while, your hands winding their way behind his neck as his own get braver on the small of your back. The back of your knees hit the edge of his mattress, and he has a half a thought to push you onto his bed, before suddenly remembering that he forgot all of the moves he used to pull.  
It’s been so long.  
He is incredibly out of practice, but he wants you so bad and he needs you to know that. 
But he’s forgotten how. 
Unbeknownst to him, you’ve been picking up on his panic. You notice the way his lips falter against yours, the way his tongue seems to lose direction, and the way his hands unstick from your waist... 
“What’s wrong?” You whisper, sealing your question with a kiss. 
Yoongi chuckles, the sound almost unnatural as his hand comes up to rub behind his neck. He licks his lips, wanting to savor the taste of you even while he’s embarrassed.  
“I’m uh-” He looks away for a moment, lips still quirked up in a nervous grin, “I’m alright, it’s just...” 
You cock your head, eyes wide with a type of tenderness he has only ever seen from you.  
God, you’re really fucking beautiful, he thinks.  
It’s unreal.  
Why was he overthinking something so perfect? 
“Do you want to stop?” You check, intertwining your fingers with his before bringing his knuckles to your lips.  
Yoongi wants to cry when you place a kiss to the backs of his fingers. If he were a different man, he would have been leading your mouth all over him, responding in kind, sucking at every inch of you, bending you over the end of his bed... 
But he isn’t. 
He’s Yoongi.  
And all he knows is that he wants the woman, you, standing before him.  
But he hasn’t the faintest idea of where to start. 
Yoongi shakes his head at your question, “It’s been a really long time since I’ve been with anyone.” He admits, still watching the way you brush your lips over his fingers, “I’m really out of practice, to say the least. I think I’m siking myself out a bit.”  
You feel immediate relief, your lips forming around a smile as you kiss his hand gently, “It’s ok- it's been awhile for me too.” Looking up at him, you catch him staring at your mouth again, his expression almost innocent, “Why don’t we start here?” 
Yoongi’s eyes follow every move you make, even as you back away from him and crawl onto the bed. You’re on your knees now, your jeans stretching across your skin uncomfortably, the sensation serving as another reason to rid yourself of them. 
“Stay right there...” You call softly, but Yoongi couldn’t move even if he tried. 
Not yet at least. 
He nods, unsure of what to do with his hands now that they aren’t wrapped around you anymore; it’s just another sign that, that’s where they belong.  
You lock eyes with him, lowering the intensity of your gaze in an effort to ease his nerves, even as your fingers find the hem of your sweater.   
Yoongi’s heart quickly finds itself thrashing against his sternum, his lips parting in awe as you expose yourself to him. You’re in a cherry red bra, the lace doing a slightly poor job of containing your breasts. But he isn’t complaining.  
You’re sliding your hands up your body now, keeping your eyes on him before allowing them to flutter shut as you grip your chest. Making a show of yourself, you push them together and murmur, “You would fit so nicely right here, don’t you think?” 
Yoongi huffs, a light chuckle hanging on the end of it, as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re going to give me heart attack...” The giggle that leaves your lips spurs him on, but before he is able to climb onto the bed with you, you’re stopping him. 
“Wait- I wanna see you now.” You request, batting your lashes at him, and he is starting to recognize just how dangerous you really are.  
Yoongi smirks, “I don’t remember agreeing to put on a show...” 
“Please?” You pout, sitting back on your knees, as you look at him expectantly, “I’ll keep going...” 
His smirk broadens, his hands sort of lingering at his collar, “Are you trying to bribe me?” 
The tone of his voice makes you smile, “Is it working?”  
Yoongi chuckles, the sound heating the surface of your skin, “Unfortunately yeah, think I’d do anything to get me on that bed with you.” 
You’re giggling again, feeling very young all of the sudden, “Well get to it then, I’m getting cold...”
Yoongi bites his lip, keeping his eyes on you as he slowly removes his shirt. Finally seeing the full expanse of his skin, you are leaning forward on your knees a bit, desperate to touch him. His skin looks so soft, his hips flaring out just a bit, his pecks raised slightly to signify his many hours moving boxes in his store.
Just below his collarbone, you see a tiny bit of black script written in Korean, which you assume is for Haneul, and Yoongi immediately confirms your suspicion.
“I got this right before he was born-“ He explains brushing his fingers over it, “It’s held up really well.”
You smile, “It has.”
Yoongi kind of stands there for a moment, looking nervous all over again, before you find your back over to him.
“Hey-“ You whisper, cupping his face, “You’re amazing…ok?”
Yoongi wants to argue with you, feeling insecure at someone seeing him so exposed after so long. But the way your lips tuck in between his own, kill doubt he’s ever had about himself.
At least for the time being.
He’s happy to be kissing you again, and even happier when you say,
“Will you take off my bra for me?”
Clumsily, he removes the garment, throwing it clear across the room in frustration which makes you giggle against his lips.
“It’s stupid-“ He pouts, referring to your bra.
You mirror him as you comb your hands through his hair, “So stupid…”
Moments later, the two of you have finally rid yourself of all of your clothes. Yoongi is hissing between your legs, his latex-covered dick brushing against the thick viscosity of your aching cunt that flutters desperately for him.
“I’m literally throbbing-“ He mumbles into your mouth, as you both continue making out.
You’ve been prolonging it, because you know neither of you will last very long. Your clit is pulsating at the thought of being touched, rubbed, licked, sucked…
Really anything at this point.
And it’s almost torture.
How much you want one another, but how quickly your unification will be.
“Me too-“ You agree, your nails tickling over his back, “I’ve never been this wet for anyone else?”
Yoongi’s eyes darken at that, “No? Are you going to get me wet?” His salacious question is paired with a light thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock pushing against your entrance.
“Mhm…” You mumble, both hands coming up to cup his face, “Will you put it in?”
He groans softly, eyes squeezing shut as he desperately tries to get a hold of himself. He’s nodding, knees fully resting on the mattress as he backs out of your grip.
With a closed fist, he strokes up the length of his dick a few times, his lust-filled gaze zeroing in on you, darker than ever before.
“I’m really not going to last very long- you gotta tell me if you don’t finish for me, ok? I want you to get off so bad…” He grunts, pursing his lips before it turns into a moan as he lines himself up at your pussy.
“I’m not going to either- just tell me when you’re close…” You reach for his hand, preparing for the feeling of him finally filling you up.
For the final time, he stops himself, his gaze flashing with a bit of innocence as he asks, “This won’t be the only time- right?”
He’s checking.
He’s making sure that you plan on sticking around after this winter week from hell is over.
That you’re here for the long haul…
That he isn’t crazy for falling for you so quickly…
And all you offer is a smile, full of promise and full of emotions that you can’t quite articulate just yet, “This won’t be the only time.”
With that, he fills you up. The length of his cock doesn’t reach the depths of you, but the way Yoongi flexes his hips doesn’t compel you to care.
You can see the way your pussy affects him, his lips finding the crook of your neck, sucking and biting in a desperate attempt to keep quiet as he eagerly fucks into you.
“Fuck me.” He whisper hungrily, biting particularly hard when your hips start meeting his, “Pussy’s ‘sso good…”
“Yeah?” You coo softly into his ear, nibbling on the shell of it, “Is it going to make you cum?”
He’s nodding, the sound of his heavy breath catching on the softest of whimpers, knowing full-well that neither of you can make a sound.
“Want you to cum though….” He mumbles drunkenly, one of his hands sliding between your sweaty bodies, “Want to feel you quiver around my cock.”
You have no idea where his mouth is coming from, but you aren’t’ complaining. The fact that your body can make him talk like this only turns you on more.
 “Touch me.” You whisper, spreading your legs even wider, “I’ll cum for you right now…”
His eyes snap towards your own, his pupils nearly taking over his irises, “Yeah?” He hums, the pads of his fingers the pulsing bud at the top of your cunt, “You’ll cum right now for me? All over my dick?”
He’s whispering to you but he’s words feel so loud, and as he starts moving over your clit, you have no choice but to nod as you clamp your hand over your mouth.
He smirks softly, eyes locked onto you as he increases the speed of both his hips and his fingers, “Shhhh- not a sound, ok? Let me see it…”
And Yoongi thinks you put on a better show than any porn star in the business.
He also thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
The way your cunt flutters through your orgasm is too much for him to handle, his body collapsing onto his elbows. He noses your hand away from your mouth once you’re finished, he is looking nervous all over again, like he isn’t ready for what he’s about to feel.
“I’m going to cum so hard—” He whines softly into your mouth, his hips moving unevenly inside of you.
You kiss at his face, offering him a sweet pleasure-induced smile, as your hips begin to meet him half way.
“I want it- can I have it, Yoongi?” You coo, sucking at his bottom lip, “Please?”
And his whole body shudders, his fists curling into the pillows beside you as he sucks at your neck once more, muffling all of the cries that leave his throat against your skin. He empties himself inside of the condom, trembling beneath the weight of his orgasm and, the weakness in his limbs.
He can’t hold himself up any longer, but he slowly rests his body ontop of your own, not wanting to crush you.
Although you’d be glad to bear the weight.
Carding your fingers through his sweaty hair, you gently press kisses against the side of his face, wanting nothing more than to be all over him, even after the two of you had finished.
He’s still shaky, his whole world seemingly turned upside down.
But in the best way.
“Are you alright?” You finally murmur in the silence, kissing his ear
With a low chuckle and muffled chuckle, he responds, “I’m good- good and great actually…”
You grin, feeling overcome with your affection for him, even as you pinch his side.
“G and G… as some people call it.”
“I hate you.” You giggle
But it couldn’t be further from the truth.
This week had changed your life, that much was certain, even if there was so much still in the air.
Yoongi still had a son to worry about, and a business to run.
And you still had business to take over, and a rather fickle mayor to track down.
But you knew that you belonged here.
With Yoongi, with Haneul…
Where the snow falls in Snow Falls.
Even if the world was still so loud, you knew that you’d find a way to quiet it.
And the next morning, lighting up the lock screen on your phone comes from the first part of your new journey.
Email from: Mayor Sweetree
CC: sweetandcompanyY/F/N@sweetandcompany.com
Subject: New Plans and Bad Weather
Body:
Y/N!
So sorry I’ve had to cancel our meeting this week! I’m firmly against doing business during bad weather. Now that the forecast is clearing up, I’d like to get together as soon as possible. How does tomorrow afternoon sound?
Before you agree, I want to know your thoughts on a very important project I’ve been considering for quite some time. Your response will let me know how I should proceed.
What do you think about opening up a new flagship store right here in Snow Falls?
Looking forward to working with you,
Mayor Sweetree  
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yoonlattesworld · 20 days ago
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His two girls
Single dad!coldceo yoongi x secretary reader
Read my other yoongi one shots here
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Single dad yoongi x reader one shot
Summary:his daughter loves you and so does he. But somehow,his ex wife tries to come in between you and yoongi won't tolerate that
Genre: fluffy fluff! No warnings
Author's pov
You were walking towards your desk after printing some papers with the sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor. Too busy looking at the papers in your hands that you didn't notice a small figure running towards you. You let out a surprised yelp when suddenly two small hands wrapped around your legs causing the papers in your hand to almost scatter on the floor. "Angel!" Looking down your eyes softened while a bright smile adorned your face matching the Little girl's in front of you. "Oh my! Hello little miss, I didn't see you there!" The little girl giggled gleefully when you crouched down to her small height and tapped her cheek. "Daddy let me come here because I completed all my homework! Oh! Angel, do you want to swee my new drwaing?" She asked excitedly while you nodded with the same excitement and she raised her arms wanting to be picked which you immediately did. Holding both her and the papers you started walking towards her dad's office who is also your boss. Your boss Min Yoongi is one of the most successful businessmen in the whole Korea and you are his personal secretary.
The little girl in your arms is his only daughter whose name is Min Ga-in. She is 5 years old and you met her a year ago when Mr min brought her to his company for the first time. He is a single dad and you always felt bad for Ga-in because she has to live without her mother at such a young age. Mr min divorced ga-in's mother when ga-in was 3 years old. It was an arranged marriage and after 1 and half years of being married they both had Ga-in. Everything was going fine until he came to know that his ex wife didn't treat his daughter nicely. He knew that she was just with him for his money but he didn't expect that she would hit his daughter behind his back. The day he found those bruises on his daughter's delicate body,he filed a divorce and raised Ga-in alone. You have been here for 2 years and everyone at the company adores you because of your sweet and kind nature. Min Yoongi was the complete opposite of you. He is known for his cold nature but everyone except for you knows that he is always soft and gentle for you. Baby Ga-in immediately took a liking for you because of your sweet nature. You and Yoongi are her favourite people. Smiling to yourself listening to her gibberish you went to knock on the door but Ga-in pulled your fingers and whispered"can i knock?pwease?" You nodded and she smiled widely knocking on the door with her small fist.
She giggled hearing her father's deep voice " come in" you kissed her head and opened the door walking inside to see him looking at some documents. While Yoongi, who heard your footsteps, looked up and for some reason,the sight in front of him melted his heart. His eyes softened while a small smile creeped on his face seeing you holding his daughter while smiling at him. Ga-in smiled widely and wiggled to get out of your hold and you put her down as she ran to get something from her bag. Giggling at the little girl you looked at Yoongi to see him already looking at you. There was something in his eyes which you couldn't decipher yet it managed to bring a small blush on your soft cheeks. Looking down you walked towards him and placed the papers on his desk "here are the papers you asked for mr min" while taking the papers, Ga-in came back and shoved a piece of paper in your hands "look!" A little confused, you took the paper while Yoongi sighed. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw three figures drawn messily. "It's you and me and dadda!" You bit your lip and looked down at her patting her head "it's really pretty! I didn't know you could draw so well, little miss!" She giggled, getting a Little shy and mumbled"thank you angel" you smiled and gave her drawing back then looked at yoongi who was looking at you both with fond eyes. "Mr min?"
He was snapped out of his daydream hearing your soft voice and cleared his throat."y-yeah you can go now. It's perfect" he said in his deep and raspy voice while looking at the papers and you nodded shyly and turned towards Ga-in'' I will go now sweetheart but you can come find me if you need anything okay?" She nodded smiling brightly making you smile too and you made your way out of the room. Walking towards your desk you took a deep breath trying to calm your pounding heart. You didn't know why but the way he looks at you makes you nervous and giddy at the same time. You still remember the day when he fired one of his best employee because he tried to touch you inappropriately. You remember how his eyes looked so cold and scary. While yoongi took his daughter in his arms, making her sit on his lap. She cupped his face in her small hands and said"dadda do you like my angel?" His eyes widened while she giggled and mumbled"so jiminie uncle was right" yoongi narrowed his eyes and said "what did you say?" "Nothing"she shrugged her shoulders and resumed back to drawing again. You were peacefully working on your laptop when suddenly "ma'am you can't go in there. You aren't allowed to meet her" looking up hearing the sudden commotion you stood up and walked towards the source of voice. You were surprised to see two guards and the receptionist trying to stop a woman.
"Listen here I don't need anyone's permission to meet my daughter so leave me alone!" The woman said, yanking her hand away and turned towards you. You gasped softly when you saw her "Miss Jieun?" She scoffed and looked at you from head to toe scrunching her face in disgust. Biting your lip you went towards her while she kept on glaring at you"ma'am can i ask why are you here?" You asked her politely while she just flipped her hair back and confidently said "I am here to take my daughter." "what?" You said feeling nervousness growing inside you. You know how she treated that little girl and you didn't want her to suffer again. Just as you said that,a middle aged man came running towards you both while panting.'Her lawyer?' you thought to yourself. She looked at him and said "c'mon" he nodded and she pushed you aside and walked towards Yoongi's office as if she owns this place. You immediately rushed after her to stop her but you were late as she already pushed the door and stomped inside his office. Yoongi looked irritated to see who the hell just came into his office but his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched seeing his ex wife standing in front of him with a smirk on her face. Ga-in's smile dropped and her hands fisted Yoongi's shirt tightly. Yoongi saw you running inside and your eyes widened slightly sensing the atmosphere. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"
He growled while she pouted and said "is this how you welcome me when we are meeting after 2 years? I'm hurt ``Yoongi took a deep breath trying to control himself and looked at you "take Ga-in out of here" you nodded and immediately went towards him and picked her up while she snuggled in your neck not looking at her mom. You looked up at Yoongi to see him looking at Jieun with his jaw clenched. You hesitantly put your hand on his arm knowing he can't control himself when he gets angry. Looking at you his eyes softened and he kept his hand on yours mumbling "go. It's okay" you nodded and started walking out not noticing the way Jieun was giving you a dirty glare. After he was sure that you and Ga-in were out he looked at her and said "why are you here" she smirked and said"sit down. Let's talk" he forcefully made his way to the couch and sat in it looking at her sitting opposite to him. "Now I will get straight to the point. I want Ga-in. I am here to take her ``Yoongi's eyes darkened and he growled "what?" She sighed and said "c'mon yoongi we both know that she needs a mother. You can't take care of her alone. So just listen to me and give me her custody" the real reason she wanted for was that she wanted yoongi back. She thought that if she could take Ga-in,she can win yoongi back too. She wanted his fame and reputation."'No" Meanwhile you were standing outside trying to calm the little girl who was crying "i-is she going to take me ?" She asked you and you immediately shaked your head "no sweetheart. Dadda won't let her do that, right?" She nodded and hugged you tightly.
"Hey what's wrong sweetie? Stop crying i promise we won't let her take you away from us" you shushed her gently and she looked at you with tears all over her face"angel c-can i tell you something?" "Of Course honey." You said soothingly "y-you won't get mad?" She asked looking scared and you shook your head "I promise I won't" she sniffled and pulled you closer to whisper in your ear. But then She said something which felt like someone just pierced daggers in your heart. "Come with me" you held her hand and took her back to his office. Opening the door you bragged in with Ga-in following you and all the eyes fell on you. "Y/n what are you doing here?" Yoongi asked you sternly but you looked at Jieun who was looking at Ga-in. Crouching down you gently put your hands on her shoulder and said "Ga-in can you tell dadda what you just told me? I promise I won't let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?" She nodded almost immediately and looked at her dad who was looking at you both with his eyebrows furrowed. "Dadda s-she hurts me. P-pwease don't let her take me. I-i want to stay with you and angel" she started crying while you took her in your arms. Yoongi walked towards you both and crouched down "babygirl what are you saying?" You noticed how Jieun suddenly got quiet and Ga-in said "s-she tried to hurt Angel too. She hurt me too. I'm scared I don't want to go with her"
she started crying harder and you could feel tears pricking your eyes too "what" he looked at you and you hesitantly whispered "t-that day when i took Ga-in with me to the market..we met her there a-and she.." "she what?!" He growled furiously and Ga-in said "s-she slapped my angel!" Still crying in your arms. His breathing got heavier,a sign when he couldn't control his anger. He stood up to see Jien trembling in fear and she shouted "she is lying! That slut teached our daughter those lies! You know i would never-ahh!" her sentence got cut when yoongi grabbed her arm tightly and dragged her towards the door. He threw her out of his office making her stumble and fall on the floor. He glared at her lawyer who immediately rushed out not caring about his client. "Yoongi you can't do this to me!" She shouted still on the floor while he scoffed and smirked angrily"be thankful to y/n and Ga-in because if they weren't here,you would have been dead by now and Ga-in doesn't need a mother like you when she already have y/n who treats my daughter like her own." And slammed the door shut on her face while the employees around her started whispering and recording her.Breathing heavily he turned around to look at you both and his eyes softened. He took Ga-in in his arms and his one hand snaked around your shoulder pulling you close to his chest. You gasped feeling him kiss your forehead and gripped his shirt tightly. "Shh it's okay...she's gone now"he said calming his daughter who cried for a few minutes and then fell asleep on his shoulder. He slowly stood up and Gently placed Ga-in on the couch.
You stood there looking at the floor when he came in front of you and made you look at him "why didn't you tell me?" He asked raspily which you started stuttering"i-im really sorry i was s-scared because she tried to hurt Ga-in and said t-that she will ruin your reputation but then Ga-in told me t-that Miss Jieun came to her school too that's w-why-" at this point you started sobbing, scared that you made a mistake and yoongi immediately wrapped his arms around you holding you close to him "shh it's okay. It's not your fault babygirl. I'm not mad at you" you sniffled and pulled back to look at him while he wiped your tears. Your heartbeat fastened when his gaze fell on your lips. You bit your bottom lip nervously while he let out a deep groan and smashed his lips on yours. You gasped and clutched his shirt as your hands rested on his chest and he pulled you closer. He deepened the kiss pulling you closer leaving no space between your bodies. His hands wrapped around your waist tighter and he let out a low growl biting your bottom lip gently. You gasped and whimpered when he pushed his tongue inside your mouth. Your knees weakened under his touch and you stumbled a bit but he bend down a little and his hands wrapped around your mid thighs. He picked you up as you held his shoulder for support and he placed you on his desk. Gripping your thigh he kissed you as if you were made of glass. He was controlling himself knowing it was your first kiss. A few seconds later you tapped his chest feeling lightheaded. He pulled back breathing heavily and leaned his head against yours. "Fuck i can't control myself anymore. I love you...so fucking much" you blushed profusely and he whispered"say it kitten. Do you feel the same?" You nodded shyly and mumbled"i-i love you too" "you are mine" he growled and buried his face in your neck his arms tightening around your waist"w-what about Miss jieun?" He smirked and said "you don't need to worry about it kitten"he will make sure that she will pay for hurting his two girls. "Is angel my mommy now? Like dadda said?" You both looked up wide eyed to see a sleepy Ga-in looking at you both. "When did you woke up babygirl" yoongi asked her as you got off his desk fixing yourself "just now when you said i lub you" You went towards her and hugged her small body "would you like it if i become your mommy?" "Yes!" She shouted and you both giggled. Yoongi was watching you both with soft eyes and a fond look on his face replacing the cold one. A second later,you felt two strong arms wrapping around you as yoongi pulled you both towards him. Kissing both of your head he mumbled"i love you both" Ga-in giggled and said "we luw you too dadda"
The next day a video of the daughter one of the most successful video went viral. An employee at yoongi's office recorded the whole conversation plus the part where he kicked Jieun out. Every one was shocked to find the truth behind their sudden divorce. And Jieun's whole carrer was ruined by a single video. Her father denied to take responsibility for her actions and made her reveal the truth to the media where people found out that she used to abuse her own daughter. Not being able to handle the embarrassment and shame,she left korea. And is now living alone in LA.
*3 years later*
You smiled looking at Ga-in who was busy playing with a dog. Right now you,yoongi and Ga-in were in yoongi's hometown Daegu. You all came to spend a little family vacation here. Ga-in wanted to go to a park so here you are at Duryu park watching the pretty cherry blossoms.You watched her bid goodbye to the dog as it's owner started walking ahead. "Mom! That dog was so cute! When will we get one?" She asked while pouting as she reached infront of you and sat besides you on the bench. You giggled and put your finger on your chin pretending to think"hmmm I don't know maybe when you are all grown up to take care of it?" You laughed when she started whining "but i am all grown up! I'm 8 years old already!" You smiled and put an arm around her shoulder pulling her close to you while your other arm went to your 3 month old belly. "Won't you help me take of your little sibling?" She nodded immediately "so we can get a puppy when the baby is a little older don't you think so? It will be hard to take care of both of them right?" She sighed and nodded knowing you were right. "Here is your icecream" you both looked up hearing his deep voice and smiled brightly looking at yoongi coming towards you both with a bag in his hand" "Dadda!" Even though she is 8 years old,she still calls her father dadda and you her angel. "Here is your icecream sweetheart" he said handing Ga-in a chocolate cone. "And your orange juice" you smiled happily taking your favourite juice making him smile too. He sat besides you both and drank some water putting an arm around your shoulder as Ga-in sat in between you both. "Are you feeling tired babygirl?" He asked rubbing your shoulder gently. You shaked your head too busy drinking your orange juice while rubbing your small bump"and you sweetheart?" He asked Ga-in and she immediately shaked her head . She finished her ice cream and said"Can i go towards the lake please?" You took the ice cream wrappers from her and nodded "yes you can sweetie just be careful"yoongi told her pressing a kiss on her head and she nodded and ran towards the lake. Yoongi pulled you closer and you looked at him with a soft smile on your face. He gently rubbed your belly and pressed his lips on yours.
You both got married last year and you officially adopted Ga-in 2 years ago. 2 months ago you found out that you are pregnant and yoongi's protectiveness increased for you and Ga-in. He promised himself that he will never let anything happen to his 3 angels. He couldn't be happier. The day you accepted his proposel,was the day you saw him crying for the first time. And the second time you saw him cry was on your wedding day. You remember how tears of happiness filled his eyes when he saw you walking down the aisle.Pulling back you both smiled at eachother as he tucked your hair behind your ear. Standing up he took your hand in his bigger one and You both walked towards Ga-in .you hugged her as she smiled and kissed your cheek. Yoongi wrapped his arms around you both protectively and both you and Ga-in smiled happily feeling safe in his arms.
Yoongi couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with his little family.
But neither of you knew that a pair of eyes were watching you three from afar. Jieun smiled sadly wiping a small tear that escaped her eyes and turned around to walk away "i deserved it" she did moved on but the pain she caused to her daughter and yoongi was still fresh in heart. She admitted that she was using yoongi for her own needs to and she didn't liked her daughter because she stole the spotlight from her. But as she lived alone in LA for 3 years,she realised her mistake but she couldn't face yoongi or his daughter again. "Ooff-" she stumbled back at the sudden force but a hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back up. Her eyes widened as she realised she was almost hugging a random man. "You seem to be in a hurry my lady" looking up her heart started pounding when he smirked at her. " The name is Lee yeonjun and you might be?"
Maybe it's time to start a new life
Smiling a little she replied"Han jieun"
Author's note:heyyoo guys! It's your lazy author here. I hope you are enjoying these stories and I'm sorry! I changed my users. I didn't really liked "certainlilmeowmeow" so i changed it. I love it so i hope you guys like it too! I will be back with a new story soon so see you guys later!!
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helenazbmrskai · a month ago
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Cure For Sleep Deprivation
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Title: Cure For Sleep Deprivation
Pairing: Demon! Yoongi x Farmer! Reader
Genre: Horror, Angst, Fluff, Farm AU, Amnesia AU, Demon AU, Fantasy
Sin: Sloth
Summary: You’re just an ordinary girl inheriting your parent’s animal farm far away from the city. Everything is normal until you catch a sleeping boy inside the tool shed who can’t remember why or how he got there. On top of that after his sudden arrival, you keep having these nightmares and what’s stranger than that is that Yoongi is in every one of them.
Warnings: amnesia, nightmares, mention of oc dying in her dream, small character death (oc's grandparents), blood, some creepy vibes, mention of a dead rabbit in one small scene, slight horror elements but nothing major spookiness, smut, unprotected sex (always be safe this is only fiction!) magic demon saliva, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, oc tells him to stop but everything is consensual, bathroom sex, couch sex, big dick! demon yoongi, kissing, marks/hickeys, dirty talk, cockwarming, handjob, vaginal fingering, oral (f), lots of cum, creampie, yoongi fucks you into sleep
Word Count: (6,1k)
Author note. Part of the Seven Deadly Sins Collab hosted by @yutasgalaxy @thebiasrekkers Admin T & @sugasbabiie​. Don't forget to check out the masterlist for more spooky fics! Happy halloween!
Menu: Masterlist l Be part of my permanent taglist to recieve a notification when I upload a new fic! 
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You’re standing at the edge. Under you, there are thousands of sharp rocks paving the way down to your demise but don’t be mistaken. The trail is dangerous, one wrong step and you could fall to your death but strangely enough, you’re not afraid. You’re secure in warm arms that snake around your torso like twines. The feel of his breath rhythmically tickling your earlobe keeps you calm.
You’re confused but not scared.
You’re pushed against a firm chest and your breath hitches when he kisses your jaw. He’s whispering something into your ear but you’re unable to tell what he says. The wind blows away the sound.
As soon as his arm loosens around you you attempt to turn around but he’s not there and you’re falling. Your eyes only focus on the blue sky. Your body feels like it stands still when in reality you’re shrinking. You’re falling but you don’t feel a single thing. The only indicator that you’re moving is the wildly blowing wind under your body keeping you afloat.
You’re drowning and your lungs fill up with water. Your hands reach for the surface but the pull is too strong it gets harder to breathe until your eyes come out of focus and the bubbles stop coming. You see him standing by the shore right before your sight goes dark. He let you fall.
Your body jolts awake reflexively, your eyes are open but only see dark. You woke up as soon as you died in your dream.
Unstable hands find your phone laying on the nightstand, it’s 5:21 too early for the sun to rise.
You start taking deep breaths the bad dream you were having lingers at the back of your mind but you will your muscles to relax. It wasn’t real. You’re fine, you’re safe. Your head hits the pillows again as you groan into the darkness of the room. Feels like your last nightmare was ages ago. So why start again now?
It’s probably the new place, you tell yourself. Of course, after your grandparent's sudden death you’ll have some difficulty sleeping. You couldn’t mourn their loss yet, things have been hectic around the land. You were used to the city girl life and suddenly you had to keep this farm going without any help but your own.
It’s only been a couple of weeks that you legally became the caretaker of their farm. Life has been busy and without their guidance, you had to learn how to take care of everything. You still make mistakes but you like to think that you’ve become a little better at keeping this farm in order.
Hoping that a warm bath will soothe your nerves and lift your mood for the rest of the day you pick out your clothes from the old wood wardrobe and head to the bathroom. The dream felt so real, the freezing cold water, the cliff where someone was holding you in his arms. Every sensation felt like it happened to you in real life.
Who that man might be you have no idea. Why did you think it was a man? You don’t know that either. You couldn’t hear his voice and he disappeared when you turned around but something tells you that it was a man.
You start with collecting the eggs from the chicken barn. It’s the same routine every day. You feed the chickens first collect what you can and have breakfast before you move on to the horses.
You try to keep everything organised. The farm is big and there are no neighbours as far as you can tell. The closest town takes up two hours of car ride so your grandparents made sure that everything you need is within reach of the grounds of the farm. Meat, vegetable eggs almost everything that you need you can grow yourself.
Your grandparents were old people so they only went to town once every month to get everything else that’s impossible to make it here by themselves. It’s convenient to find the necessities within reach but you feel isolated ever since you came here. Taking care of this farm was not a burden that you wanted on your back but there was no one else who could have done this.
You’re working on things bits by bits. The ground of the farm is so big that you need your car to see the borders of it. You can’t even imagine how your grandparents managed to live here for so long, it’s only been a couple of weeks but you feel like you’re going crazy here by yourself. Maybe you could invest in a cat or something. Might help you feel less lonely alone in this big plot of land.
You’re feeding the pigs next after you’re done with the horses and you walk by the tool shed on your way to the supply room so you can grab an extra pair of gloves. You only stop in your tracks because it’s open but you never leave anything open. You might be alone here but you were always a firm believer that it’s better to be cautious than be sorry later.
Your sole weapon is a pair of sharp scissors that you cut the food bag with. The shed is dark inside even when you open both sides of the door to get a better view of the inside. The tools are scattered around the dirty room. You couldn’t find the time to clean this place up as you concentrated on the main house, for now, there’s still too many rooms and places that you need to clean. Doing everything alone is hard and takes more time but you don’t have anyone to ask and hiring staff makes you anxious since you’re living here alone in the middle of nowhere.
”Anybody there?” You cringe hearing your own voice. Great, that’s what the protagonist says in a fucking horror movie. You can only hope that your fate is nothing like that. You had no idea that having a thing for horror movies will bite you back in the ass. You even see an old rusty saw hanging on the walls. The table is full of different hammers and screwdrivers. The whole place makes you be on edge.
There’s a stack of dry straw in the corner in big piles. The sunlight can only reach one part of it but you can make out a silhouette. You pick up a small rock from the ground and aim at the stranger’s back you need to make sure he’s not dead or poses a threat to your own life so you observe him from afar tightly clutching your scissors. You call him loudly picking up more rocks to wake him up.
You gasp when he suddenly moves. You watch him sit up on top of the pile, his clothes and hair full of straw fibres as he rubs his eyes sleepily. It seems like he didn’t realise where he is or he’s not alone so you keep quiet and observe him as best as you can under the dim lights of the shed.
He’s young, around your age if you had to guess. You don’t know how to feel about that. It makes him more potent to overpower you if he decides he’s on serial killer duty. You don’t know him he could be running from the authorities. An old farm is a good place to hide after all and you’re on your own. Your only weapon is a fucking pair of scissors that’s not even sharp enough to defend yourself with!
”Where am I?” You’re startled out of your thoughts when he speaks. His eyes finally land on you standing a few feet away from him.
You should have called the police while he was sleeping and shut yourself inside your home. Why is it that it’s only now that you think of that?! He’s looking at you waiting for an answer and you decide to reap what you sow.
”You’re inside my property! How did you get here and why are you sleeping in my shed?” You point in his direction with your weapon, trying to seem more intimidating. The boy seems to be as lost as you are. He blinks at you before he eventually raises his hands to calm you down.
”I don’t know how I got here. The first memory I have is waking up here and talking to you. I don’t remember anything else from before that.”
Your brain tells you to not believe him. Rationally thinking he could still be a murderer. But. The big but is that if he’s here to kill you your run-down house will not stop him from achieving that. The locks are old and if he uses some force you’re sure he could eventually break in and even if you call the police right now they will arrive two hours too late to save you.
”Nothing? Not even your name?” You ask. Once you begin lowering your scissors he loosens up his rigid stance and you watch his shoulder hunch over. He looks really confused and lost. The man shakes his head and stares up ahead as if he’s trying hard to retain anything from before this moment.
”Are you hungry?”
You ask him in a timid voice that tells him you dropped your act to appear more threatening.
He needs help, if it happens that he’s really a serial killer then you’re fucked but until then you could do something good in this world. The boy nods - the tiny gesture is almost unnoticeable. It seems like he’s not the talkative type. You can’t really blame him it must be frustrating to not remember anything.
He follows you to the main house but fortunately, he keeps a friendly distance from you as you walk ahead of him, the silence that settles between you however is awkward and kind of creepy. His eyelids are fluttering shut every so minute that you think he’s still fighting to be awake. You have no idea how long he has been sleeping there before you found him.
You make him some easy breakfast while he wanders around the living room. You were reluctant to let him roam free in your house at first but later you decided that there’s not much he can steal anyway.
The announcement of your grandparent’s will was sudden a lot of your family members weren’t aware they had one, to begin with, so there’s still a lot of your stuff that’s in your apartment in the city waiting to be shipped as you only packed the essentials. As to why you left as soon as you claimed ownership of the farm is simple enough. The apartment you lived in is a shithole everything in it is old and the equally as old landlord doesn’t like to renovate or spend a single penny on the building that’s slowly crumbling down to the ground.
You’re sad that things come to this but you’re not in the position to deny the money that your grandparents saved and the only way you could access the money is if you take care of the farm and keep it running. You had to quit your job and leave everything behind just to pay back your loan sharks. At least you’re free of them. Now you have other problems to tackle.
One is the man that you found sleeping inside your tool shed.
You offered him to take a shower after he ate since his clothes and skin is covered in filth as if he crawled out of a mud pit.
You found some of your grandpa’s old clothes that you keep in a box that will do for now. You want to give the clothes to charity but you’re not going into town for a while. Gass is expensive and you’re still fixing up the farm, replacing old equipment and installing new features.
Searching through his dirty clothes doesn’t help you figure out who he is. There’s not even a receipt in his pockets he literally has nothing on him. You’re way past the point where you could just kick him out.
He’s not your responsibility you don’t even know his name nor where he’s from. On top of all that he has this weird aura around him. You can’t explain it but something about him makes your skin crawl.
He sleeps away most of the day. When you’re back after you’re done with tending to the animals you find him in the same position on the couch with his eyes closed. You eat breakfast and lunch together every day but there’s not much that he can tell you about himself.
You offered to take him to the nearby police station but he refused, he said that he has a bad feeling about going there and you didn’t try to force him. You’re lowkey still scared of him even though he didn’t do anything that would make you fear him. He looks harmless, he’s always sleepy and only wakes up to eat with you. You’re a little jealous that he’s so thin when all he does is lounge on your couch occasionally watch tv and maintain his small built. Whilst all you have to do is think about fries and you’re one pound heavier.
You’re also jealous that he can sleep so peacefully. Ever since he appeared your nightmares become worse. Every morning you wake in up cold sweat and your head is all over the place. You can’t retain much of it but there’s something constant appearing in every dream you have. It’s him. He’s always in your nightmares and at first, you thought that your mind is projecting him in your dreams because you don’t know him and his appearance was strange, to say the least.
You always try to make sense of things and he’s the biggest enigma that you had the displeasure of meeting. There are times when you catch him at the dining table sitting and looking into the distance with unfocused eyes, staring at nothing in particular but his facial expression is dark. Almost scarily empty.
The next day you decided to switch things up maybe if you spend more time with him your mind won’t create nightmares about him and a little change of scenery might trigger his memories to come back as well so you decided to take him into town with you on your supply run.
He didn’t look happy about it when you mentioned your idea but he got into the car with you when it was time to leave. Truthfully you didn’t think he’ll come. The radio served as a great distraction throughout the long ride, you keep calling him ’boy’ in your head. Even when you call him you say ’you’ or ’hey’ since he’s yet to remember his name, it marks the end of the second week that you found him and he’s tightlipped as ever. You got used to him by now though.
It felt almost domestic. He pushed the cart while you checked your list. The cashier even mistook you as a young couple when you checked out at the front. You observed that he likes to eat the cinnamon choco cereal in the mornings so you even added that to your list.
It’s unsettling how normal it feels like to have him around. Your eyes always search for him the moment you step into the house and he never disappoints to be there where you left him in the morning. You stopped asking him if he remembers anything because that would mean that he can continue his life where he left off. You know that someday he’ll leave you, his stay with you is temporary.
You should be anticipating that day but strangely you find yourself not wanting him to leave and forget about you.
”Ow. What is it?” You rub your nose where you walked right into his back. You only have one bag in your hands while your companion carries two more. He stopped walking but you could tell that he’s looking at something intently.
You have to stand on your tiptoes to look over his shoulders and see what made him freeze in the middle of the street so suddenly without uttering a word. It’s a shady looking bar that’s closed during the day.
”Do you-” You start but stop, your voice is faint but he clearly hears you. He turns slightly around he surprises you by grabbing your hand. His hand is ice cold and there’s something unreadable in his eyes.
”Have you been here?” You ask this time while motioning in the bar’s direction. Maybe he’s local. It’s a possibility considering that he ended up on your farm. He should be living around here somewhere. It’s still hard to believe that he walked two hours barefoot though to end up sleeping in your shed.
”Let’s go back it’s almost time for feeding the animals.” The previous expression vanishes as soon as it appeared. You let him pull you in the direction of your car even though you have thousands of questions about what happened earlier you don’t say anything and just nod agreeing.
In your nightmares, the boy who lives with you plays some kind of role in your death. Either he lets you go at the edge of the cliff or pushes you in front of a moving car. It’s a different scenario every time.
It feels real every time too. Sometimes you have a hard time separating this boy from the boy in your dreams. There’s a negative emotion that surfaces when you look at him but what’s stranger than that is when you’re inside your dream you’re never afraid of him. You oddly feel safe. He holds you or kisses your cheek and your heart goes crazy. Your emotions regarding him are ambivalent to the point where it starts to drive you crazy. You don’t remember when was the last time you were able to catch a goodnight's sleep. Due to the lack of sleep, your headache is a constant reminder that you desperately need some rest and you eat less and less in the morning.
This time you woke up before midnight and you decided to go down and get a glass of water to soothe your sore throat.
You check up on him on your way to the kitchen by sheer coincidence but he’s not there. You look around the house everywhere calling out to him in a whisper but he’s nowhere to be found. Until you look outside. You catch his shadow moving on the porch. It’s weird.
You can’t imagine what he could be doing in the middle of the night outside in the dark. You’re nervous to follow him out but your curious nature outweighs the possible danger that you might put yourself in if you get caught.
He’s talking to something. You find him crouched looking at something in the grass. You step closer, you manage to make your steps light so you don’t alert him before you could see what’s going on.
You choke on a gasp as you try to silence yourself with your hands firmly placed in front of your mouth.
It’s a dead rabbit. Near the body, there’s a sharp rock the edge of it is smeared with fresh blood. His fingers are soaked in the ruby red substance and then you see it. He’s been writing something with his fingertips on the ground. You don’t recognise the language it all looks gibberish to you.
He looks up from the dead body straight at you. His whole eye is black even the white part is swallowed by blackness. It’s a terrifying sight. You step back when he straightens up, he backs you into a corner until your back collides with the wall of the nearby shed. There’s nowhere else you can go now. He caught you.
You don’t dare to look him in the eyes when he’s just a hairbreadth away from you, you could feel his breath on your cheek. You close your eyes tightly when he raises his hands you don’t know what to expect. Will he pull your hair? Slap you or choke you? He does none of that.
You can’t believe how gentle his touch is. He cups your cheeks with blood-stained fingers transferring the warm liquid on your skin that makes bile rise up into your throat but you hold it in.
”You’re scared of me. This is why I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You keep looking at the ground and he doesn’t force you to face him thankfully. You’re still trying to process everything that you witnessed. Whatever that was.
”W- Who are you?” What are you might be even better but you settle for the first. You flinch when he closes the gap between your faces and touch your foreheads together. He smells like your body wash. It makes you confused. What you should think now? He smells like your shampoo and he wears the clothes of your grandpa and you’ve been living with him for months.
He never touched even a thread of your hair and he could have plenty of opportunities to do so.
”I’m Yoongi.”
Your head jerks away in favour to look at him. You watch him with big eyes the fear you felt is overdriven by surprise. You wanted to put a name to his face so bad for the last couple of weeks. It feels surreal to learn it. The name Yoongi suits him.
He’s confused why you look so angry all of the sudden after the surprise wears off. Your reactions are late, you’re too tired to think rationally.
”You lied to me! You said you don’t remember your name.” You push him away solely running on adrenaline due to sleep deprivation. You’re angry but you’re not ready to admit to yourself why. You shouldn’t care if he lied or not. He had a fucking black eye with no white parts or even a pupil! It’s clear that he’s anything but human. It doesn’t make any sense in your head.
”I didn’t.” Yoongi catches your wrist that’s firmly placed on his chest to push him farther away but he doesn’t budge.
”When I woke up in the shed I really didn’t know where I was or who I am. It came back later.”
”How long did you know?”
Yoongi looks away before he answers. ”After the first week.”
He holds your wrists firmly not leaving you room to wriggle yourself out of his hold no matter how hard you struggle. You stop trying as you look to the side glaring at nothing in particular.
”What are you then? Why did you kill the rabbit?”
Yoongi sighs in defeat when you keep looking everywhere but not at him. He promises to answer all your questions inside. He could tell how you started shivering when the wind started to pick up. It’s way past midnight now. You don’t say anything but nod.
Suddenly you have nothing left to say and Yoongi tries to tell you what happened to him. It would be a lie if you said you’re not curious.
”Start with the rabbit.” You give him a starting point to begin his story, the poor animal’s picture, dead in your backyard is still livid in your mind even when you guide Yoongi into the downstairs bathroom.
”I had to kill him. I needed his blood and I couldn’t harm one of your animals. You like them too much and I didn’t want to see you sad over them. I’m calling my brothers, they’re searching for me.”
You push his hands under the sink and let the blood be washed away by the running tap water. You scrub his hands clean until it’s only soapy water that’s left. The red is drained by the sinkhole as if it wasn’t there. It somewhat soothes your jittering.
”Your brothers?” You parrot him and he dares to chuckle, your glare stops him once he looks at you though.
”Uh, yeah. I have six other brothers. Have you heard of the seven deadly sins Y/N?”
The furrow of your brows lets him know that you don’t see the point why he brings this concept up now. ”Of course I know. It’s taught in school.”
”What you’re taught in school is different from reality but the main concept is similar. Seven demons come to earth on October 31 and make as many people as they can indulge in their sin. Usually, after midnight they retreat back to hell and wait for the next year to come again and do the same as before.”
”Why does the number of people matter?”
You dry his hands with the towel next to the sink and let his hand go the moment you’re done. Yoongi looks after your hand longingly but ignores the urge to grab your hand again and answers your question instead.
”We get rewards in hell according to the number of people we corrupt. It helps to establish our place so weakling demons behave and follow our orders. If you show mercy you’re tossed into the firepit.”
”We?”
”Yes. Y/N, I’m a demon and I’m responsible for one of the seven deadly sins with my six brothers.”
You could figure out his sin without him needing to tell you. All he would do these past months since you found him is sleep and eat. Now it all makes kind of sense. Crazy. But after seeing his black eyes turn back their original colour you can’t really deny his true nature.
”Are you responsible for my nightmares too?” Yoongi looks away sheepishly, it’s a new expression that you haven’t seen on him yet.
”Yes, I’m sorry about that. It’s a side effect that humans develop when a demon is close by. Our demon powers mess with the natural wavelength your brains emit and you’re most vulnerable to its effects when you’re asleep.”
”Can you make the nightmares stop? I really want to rest and not wake up in the middle of the night in cold sweat while you wait for your brothers to find you. It could take weeks and you’ve been here for a while. Don’t take it to heart.”
Your brain is fried after all this talk about demons and hell. Right now you just take everything as it is. You’re too tired to properly think and freak out but you learnt to trust Yoongi during his stay with you and even though he scared the living shit out of you outside with the dead rabbit and all now you’re eerily calm. It makes sense why your emotions were all over the place. His demon powers messed with your head but your heart knew that he means no harm at least to you.
You showed him kindness and for a week when he didn’t remember who he was you took care of him. It moved something in his heart. He became attached to you and it never happened before.
”There’s a way I could help you but I’m not sure you would be comfortable with that.” Yoongi bites his lip seemingly imagining something, his eyes darken a bit but before it could turn all black again it vanishes.
”I might regret asking but- tell me. What is it?” Yoongi looks you over from head to toe it’s the first time that he sees you in your sleepwear. Normally you don’t come down until it’s time for you to feed the chickens.
”I heard that exchanging bodily fluids helps. Our saliva has unique abilities so I’ve heard from the others.”
You run on autopilot as you look at his lips. Exhaustion wins at this point you’re willing to try anything.
”You mean we have to kiss?” You check in case you thought wrong. It’s not your imagination playing tricks on you, you could feel Yoongi’s chest against you and his hands find the dip of your hip to pull you closer to his lips.
Yoongi hums to confirm your words. It’s getting hot inside the bathroom as the sexual tension rises in the air the longer you keep staring into his eyes. His dark orbs seem to promise something more beyond the kiss and you’re not complaining at all as you feel the need to have him close to you grow in the pit of your stomach.
You realise that he’s waiting for you to make the first move. Even when you inch closer he remains impassive but his eyes tell you a different story. He wants to have you but only pounces if you give yourself to him willingly.
How sweet of him. If you had doubts about him remaining, his gentleman move makes sure that you know what you’re dealing with. Demon or not, he’s been living with you for months.
You finally close the gap between you and Yoongi welcomes you with open arms. At first, the kiss is just mere lip touching but the minute you lick over the seam of his lips he gets greedy.
Yoongi marks up your neck to let you breathe before he takes over the inside of your mouth again with his purposeful tongue.
Everything else is sealed in the back of your mind and only the need to have him remains, licking you from the inside with its hot flames.
Yoongi makes you sit at the edge of the bathtub while he gets rid of your shirts, you shudder as the cold air hits your naked chest. He doesn’t let you feel cold for long before he takes your round nipples into his hot mouth, his saliva makes the experience more intense and messy as he lousily suckles on the pink bud. It feels like an out of body experience when he cups you over your panties roughly and pleasure shoots up your spine.
There’s some of your arousal sticking into the folds of the material that he rubs into your clothed cunt. His eyes are entirely black when he leans in to steal another kiss and you let him lick every corner of the inside of your mouth.
”Yoongi-” The demon rewards you with slipping two fingers under your soaked panties trailing your entire cunt with the slender digits.
”You’re so wet my love.” You melt at the nickname but your brain barely registers anything else when he pushes the slicked up fingers into your puffy pussy. One hand grips your waist to keep you in place while the fingers in your core keep a steady pace pushing and pulling.
You keep moaning his name as he explores your insides searching for your sweet spot so he could send you over the edge and see you cream around his fingers. He can feel your inner walls tightening on them as he stretches you open.
”You have the sweetest cunt Y/N. If you keep saying my name like that I can’t help but think you want me to eat you all up.” Yoongi licks a long line up the column of your throat, marking the skin with pretty hickeys whilst his fingers in your pussy never falters its lazy pounding.
”I- w-wouldn’t mind you eating me out. Fuck- Yoongi, right there.” You grab the edge of the tub like your life is depending on it, your knuckles are turning white from the grip to keep your position and not fall into the tub.
”Right here?” Yoongi chuckles and hits the same spot repeatedly. Switching up the movements by doing scissoring motions, he opens you up to take a third digit before you gush around his fingers.
The intense waves of your orgasm wash over you slowly building up till tears are forming at your bottom lashline. He doesn’t pull away even when you start to cool down instead he pulls his fingers out and attaches his mouth to your pulsing clit. You can’t push his head away even if you wanted to because if you do let go of the tub you’ll lose your balance and hit your head on the wall.
Yoongi feasts on your cum soaked folds, the tip of his tongue nudging your entrance with every lick that he delivers to your entire quivering pussy. His saliva makes everything feel more intense and he doesn’t let up until you cum on his tongue as well.
”So fucking pretty when you cum.” Yoongi pushes his fingers back in and you let out a soft mewl at the overstimulation.
”Shh, my love. It will feel good in a moment I promise.” You’re thankful that he doesn’t move the digits in your sensitive pussy, he starts to kiss a line up your inner thighs, kissing your mound and hipbone before he latches his mouth to your clit without warning. The demon moans a devilish grin is plastered on his face when you beg him to stop but he’s too far gone to realise what you’re saying.
”Take off my pants baby. I’m not leaving this pussy until you’re full of my cum.” Your groan reverberates on the tile walls when he begins moving his fingers in and out at a slow pace.
Your hands are shaking as you attempt to pull his pants down but you manage to work it down until it pools around his ankles. You give his erect cock a slow pump once it’s free transferring the sticky precum all over his grith preparing him to enter your walls. His fingers never stop for a moment in your cunt even when his head falls back and moans. His whole body vibrated now that he got some attention.
Yoongi replaces his fingers with his thick cock. The demon made sure that your hole is never empty.
You’re lifted from the tub with his cock fully buried in your folds you can only hold onto him as he pushes you against the cold wall of the bathroom.
”It’s too much, please.” You take in a shaky exhale when Yoongi changes the angle, pushing the last remaining inch into your convulsing hole.
”I won’t move then. I’ll give you time to get used to me because I’m not planning to leave anytime soon.”
You gasp when he pulls away from the wall. You rest your head in the crook of his neck with your eyes closed to prevent feeling dizzy as he moves around. You hear the door opening and feel his weight shift under you. Your legs rest on either side of his hips. The new position makes you sink down on his big cock even more but true to his words Yoongi doesn’t move. Even though you feel his dick twitch inside you when your cunt tightens around the tight fit.
”Look at that. Your cum is soaking the couch under us. You’re so wet I bet I could slide in and out of you so easily now.” Yoongi holds you with a hand placed on the centre of your back, making you join him and look at the mess between your legs.
Your eyes are heavily lidded but close on their own accord after he rubs your clit, the feeling is painfully delicious that you arch your back and push your boobs into Yoongi’s chest obscuring his view of where you two are joined. It feels like you’re drunk there’s nothing coherent left in you after you push through the overstimulation and crave for another release.
”You c-can move now.” You wriggle in his lap swallowing the tiny moans Yoongi lets out, you just feel too good around him. He wants to stay inside your cunt forever if you let him. He’s pushing your limits and he knows that you can’t handle much more so he starts moving, bouncing you on his lap with ease.
The obscene sounds are filling both of your ears as he fucks your cum soaked cunt. He knows how to angle his hips to hit your sweet spot so you’re easily thrown over the edge for the last time before he chases after his own end.
His thrusts become frantic as he gets high on the feel of your walls sucking him in and releasing around his throbbing length.
You can feel every vein and ridge of his raw cock ramming into you, there’s nothing between you and him as he fucks you till he paints your pretty pink pussy with his white cum.
He doesn’t stop until his seed is pushed all inside. Yoongi hugs your sweat soaked body close to his chest. You’re too far gone to feel his lips place a sweet kiss on the crown of your head as a silent goodnight.
Yoongi placed you on your bed gently whilst you were in deep sleep. He cleaned you and cuddled close to your unconscious body. Preventing your dreams to turn into nightmares Yoongi has the cure for your sleep deprivation.
267 notes · View notes
moonchild1 · 4 months ago
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min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅱ)
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hello everyone here's a list of all my favourite yoongi fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs 🥺🖤 some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed, happy reading everyone ♡
a- angst s- smut f- fluff ❣- ultimate favourite
set me free by @myooniverse f s a (arranged marriage au) ❣
noise complaints by @sugasbabiie s a (neighbour au bad boy yoongi)
earn it by @sugasbabiie f s a (college professor yoongi) ❣
you, among the others by @inkofyoongi f s a (enemies to lovers au college au) ❣
all the room in the world by @inkofyoongi f a (friends to lovers au)
the singularity theory by @dovechim s (college au) ft. Taehyung
catharsis by @dovechim s (roommate au)
does that make sense? by @floralseokjin s a (college au) ❣
aquiver by @floralseokjin f s a (idol au) ❣
undo by @yoonia s a (past lovers au post break au yoongi's pov) ❣
little do you know by @yoonia f s a (established relationship au possessive yoongi)
carousel by @yoonia s a (arranged marriage au) ❣
quirofilia by @minyfic f s (producer yoongi tutor reader)
snafu by @minyfic f (enemies to lovers au)
need to know by @minyfic f s a (sugar daddy yoongi) ❣
love roulette by @whatifyoulivelikethat f s (friends to lovers au)
backstage by @wwilloww s (idol au) ❣
noise complaints by @jkstompers s (neighbour au)
the raindrop prelude by @inktae f a (pianist au)
taxi by @honeyedhoseok s (friends to lovers au)
playing with fire by @houseofdemi-blog f s a (fake dating au) ❣
bonseong breakfast by @honeymoonjin f s a
strike a chord by @snackhobi s ❣
kiss it better by @jeojahari f a (enemies to lovers au college au)
tesselation by @grinnieyoongi f s (idol au)
somebody else by @jeonqukie s a (unrequited love au friends with benefits au) ft. Taehyung ❣
la douleur exquise by @junqkook s a (soulmate au unrequited love au ) ft. Seokjin ❣
playing with fire by @hollyxqx s a (idol au enemies to lovers au) ❣
scary love by @lysjeon s a
the equation of love by @kookingtae f s a (college au professor yoongi student reader) ❣
when the power goes out by @inkjam-moon f s (established relationship au) ❣
what am I to you? by @tayegi
all too well by @cupofteaguk s a (idol au exes au make up artist au) ❣
bad boys bring it to you by @yuengi s (tattoo artist yoongi)
Till I Met You Again by @streetlight11​ f a (soulmate au university au enemies to lovers au) ❣
let me love you by @meanyoongi f s a (enemies to lovers au) ❣
MicroWave by @btsmakesmehappy f s a (neighbour au agent yoongi)
First love by @clouditae f s a (college au tattoo artist au) ❣
americano kisses by @sunshinejunghoseokie f a (friends to lovers au coffee shop au)
34+35 by @hobiandsprite s (friends to lovers au friends with benefits au)
love language by @gukslut f s a (couple au) ❣
easy rebound by @ditzymax s a (college au) ❣
the back of your car by @joheun-saram f s (college au friends to lovers au)
miss dial by @versigny f s a (fratboy au) ❣
sugar and spice by @agustdjoon f s a (sugar daddy yoongi student reader)
love like that by @mintseesaw f (doctor au established relationship au)
stuck by @joonscypher a (arranged marriage au chaebol au) ❣
matchmaker by @suhdays f a (wedding au christmas au it's told through jungkook's pov)
heart haunting by @jamaisjoons f s a (angst okay you will probably cry but other than that it's a really good read) ❣
anyone but the groom by @yoonjinkooked f s a (based on the movie the wedding planner) ❣
3K notes · View notes
honeytae · 5 months ago
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Let me put you to sleep.
hello my loves, happy wednesday! here’s some yoongi filth because….it’s good for the soul :) also looking back on my masterlist it’s just been way too long lol <3 hope you all enjoy this smutty piece of “f*** you back to sleep” filth :))))
tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters
genre: smut
warnings: sleepy grinding, dirty talk, hand and blowjobs occur, mouth fucking???, cum swallowing, fingering, there’s lots of marking, nipple play, sex does eventually occur i promise
word count: 3.3k
Yoongi, for the life of him, could not fall asleep. It’d been hours now of nearly constant tossing and turning, leaving you to readjust every time he moved behind you, the man mumbling a quiet apology in case he’d woken you up. Which he had. Several times.
“Yoongi,” you mumbled, “put the heating pad on if your back is bothering you.” You reminded him, as he was fresh off of a world tour and still dealing with the repercussions that come with it. 
“It’s okay, angel. My back is okay.” He soothed into your neck, the lack of sleepiness in his tone causing you to frown. 
“Just can’t sleep?” You inquired, the man humming before he puffed a breath out through his nose. 
“Time zones.” He explained simply, you nodding in understanding as your hand automatically reached up to the crown of his head, scratching your fingernails against his scalp in an attempt to soothe him a bit in his journey to slumber. 
“Missed you. Missed this.” He mumbled in reference to your position, kissing your shoulder softly as you hummed in response.
“Me too.” You agreed, tilting your head backward to look at the man’s wide awake eyes in the dark.
You watched as he leaned up off of his pillow to press his lips to yours, closing his eyes in bliss at the simple connection he had craved for so long while overseas.
Slowly your lips melded together, a low hum coming from the back of Yoongi’s throat as he leaned further into you, deepening the kiss with a stroke of his tongue along your lip. 
“Hm, I can tire you out. Be happy to, actually.” You said against his lips, smirking a bit at the way he clutched your hip tighter at your tone. 
Your chest swelled with pride at the broken gasp coming from his mouth when you pushed your ass back on him, his hand locking your hip in place with all the willpower he possibly could.
“I don’t want to keep you up, babe.” He protested weakly, you chuckling before pressing a chaste kiss to his pout. 
“You sure about that?” You raised your eyebrows knowingly, Yoongi smirking at your persistence before gasping when you wiggled your ass against him again. 
This time, his hand cupped your ass cheek and fondled the soft tissue there instead of locking your movements down, rolling it in his palm before sneakily sticking his pinky finger underneath the hem of your shorts to slip between your pantie-covered folds. 
You gasped as his fingertip nudged your clit over the fabric, the man purposefully wiggling his digit around to add stimulation to the bud. 
“Is that a yes?” You breathed out, Yoongi chuckling at his affect on you as he swiftly nodded. 
“Yeah, baby.” He verbally confirmed, chuckling to himself as you suddenly shifted up on your knees and flipped your body over to straddle his lap, Yoongi’s eyes shining up at you in the dark. 
His hands traveled every inch of you as you dipped your head down to kiss at his neck, a deep hum of approval vibrating his adam’s apple when you opened your mouth against the skin. 
“Fuck, I love when you’re on top.” He groaned, his hands cementing on your hips to roll you down against his growing bulge. 
Despite loving you on top of him, he loved still holding the control, his hands on your hips and feet planted on the mattress ready to buck up against you at any moment. 
“I know.” You chuckled, Yoongi swatting at your hip at your cockiness as you lifted your hips from his lap. 
Tucking your fingers underneath the waistband of his shorts and boxers, you swiftly pulled them down his thighs, Yoongi raising his hips to aid you with a slanted grin. 
Leaning down to grasp his half-hard length, you dutifully pumped your hand up and down his shaft, pace slow as you watched in awe of him beginning to get more worked up.
His bottom lip was sucked into his mouth, eyelids shutting on their own accord as a sharp inhale stuttered in his throat when your thumb swiped over his sensitive tip.
“What do you want, hm?” You asked, the man making a grumbling noise from the back of his throat as he bucked his hips up into your hand. 
“I’d take anything right now, honestly.” He admitted, making you laugh a bit at the desperation in his tone he didn’t even attempt to hide. 
Leaving one last kiss to his pout, you shuffled down his torso, hearing the man’s breath catch as he noticed the all too familiar rhythm in which you fumbled down so that your face hovered above his cock. 
Your hand continued it’s motions on his ever hardening dick, the moans and quiet whimpers falling to your ears causing heat to flush down between your legs as you sat between his own. 
With a twist of your hand on his base, his fingers gripped the sheets with white knuckles, stretching his neck as he tilted his head back in bliss. 
Dipping down to place your mouth on him, you chuckled when your boyfriend immediately gasped at the feeling of your wet mouth on his hot cock, rolling his head to the side when you traced your tongue along the bulging veins running down it. 
Yoongi clutched at the sheets as you suckled on his tip, tracing the underside of the leaking head with your tongue and making his eyes roll back into his head. 
“F-fuuuuck.” He breathed out as you took him farther into your mouth, eyes squinted open to watch as you began to bob your head up and down on him. 
His hands moved from the bed to your hair, gripping handfuls of your strands and controlling your pace on him as he mumbled praises into the air. 
Sucking and slobbering over his length, you took him deep until your throat gave out, letting him thrust into your mouth as he pleased with a grunt above you. 
“Babe, I’m gonna cum.” He warned, you encouraging him with a flick of your tongue against his tip, making his mouth gape open as he shot his heavy load down your throat. 
As his length softened a bit in your mouth, you let it easily slip off your tongue, sitting up to swipe at your mouth with the back of your hand before shuffling back up Yoongi’s body. 
“Oh my god.” He sighed, smiling a bit as you giggled atop him at his state.
His hair was only slightly damp with sweat, face flushed and eyes hazy yet ablaze with desire. The sheets below him were rumpled from where he’d been gripping them, his hair distressed because of all his writhing around on the pillow below him. All because of your mouth. 
“I fucking love your mouth.” He verbally confirmed, making you chuckle again before leaning into his all too tempting pout.
When you felt his hand pushing at the hem of your shorts, you reached down to grip his wrist, guiding it away with a slight smile as he pulled back to pull his brows at you. 
“Tonight’s about you, baby. Let me put you to sleep.” You chuckled, Yoongi rolling his eyes as he moved his hand back to slip underneath your shorts. 
“I’m not buying that shit. I wanna feel you.” He mumbled, your mouth parting against his as he slipped his finger between your folds, guiding it up to concentrate on your clit. 
“Y-yoon, you don’t have t-to- fuck,” you bit down onto your lip when his finger moved down to meet your entrance, throbbing with need and want for the man as he felt around between your legs. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He commented, his tone laced with astoundment as he traced your leaking, clenching entrance. 
Letting a choked gasp escape you when he sunk not one but two fingers into you, you whined his name as he suckled lightly on your jaw, surely marking the area as moans of his name echoed around the bedroom. 
Lacing your fingers through Yoongi’s hair, you lost yourself in the pleasure he provided you, grinding your hips down onto his two pointed fingers and groaning when he added a third. 
You threw your head back as Yoongi continued dutifully pumping into your entrance, curling his fingers to brush against all the right spots as well as running his other hand under your shirt and up your stomach to fondle your bare breasts. 
Your whimpers let him know to up his antics, attempting to suck at your nipple before groaning in frustration at the fabric blocking him from doing so.
Wordlessly, he gripped the hem of your shirt and ripped it up over your head, tossing it across the room and leaning forward to suck on your peaked bud. Hard.
“Oh my god, Yoongi.” 
“Mm,” he hummed in reply, vibration creating an electric hum in your nipple before the sensation was intensified by him biting down a bit to close his teeth around the hardened bud. 
With a gasp, you clenched around his fingers at the unexpected action, causing Yoongi to groan as he picked up the pace of his thrusting appendages up into your entrance. 
You shivered as his thumb reached back to circle over your clit, whining his name in warning as you leaned your forehead down onto his shoulder. 
“I’m gonna-” 
“Do it.” The man ordered, coaxing your orgasm out of you by slowly circling his finger over your swelling clit, your release coating his hand as he slowly pumped his fingers into you, carefully riding your high out with you. 
Neither of you spoke as you waited for your breaths to even out, Yoongi occupying himself by slipping his fingers out of you and bringing them up into his mouth to suck your juices from. 
Once you had caught your breath, you lifted your head from Yoongi’s skin, breathing out another sigh as his eyes twinkled back at you.
Although it was dark in there, you could still feel every touch of him on your body, including the hand stationed at your thigh and the other reaching up to pinch your chin between his thumb and pointer finger to guide your mouth back to his. 
Both sets of hands were messily pushing your shorts and underwear off your legs, his fingers aiding you in lifting off his hips to toss the garments somewhere off the edge of the mattress as you never disconnected from his lips. 
Following his slight shifting movements across the mattress as he reached into the drawer in the nightstand, you giggled against his lips as he cursed at the drawer being so far away, the sounds increasing as he rolled the both of you over so that he was closer to the little table. 
“Thought you loved when I was on top.” You raised your eyebrows in amusement, the man chuckling with a nod as he reached his arm back behind him, tugging the drawer open and letting his fingers scramble around the interior for a condom packet. 
“Oh I do, I really do,” he smiled, “but stay just like this, baby.” He directed, making you hum before doing as you were told, confused as you were facing away from Yoongi, rolled onto your side as if you were spooning to go back to sleep. 
You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together as your heart pounded in anticipation, the sounds of the foil packet ripping open and the barrier being rolled onto Yoongi’s cock increasing your excitement as you eagerly pushed your ass back against him. 
“Please.” You exhaled, your boyfriend quickly catching your plea with another kiss to your shoulder, tracing his hand down your thigh to grip at it. 
Yoongi smiled as you stretched your leg out behind you, aiding him in propping your thigh atop his hip bone so that he could easily access the throbbing area between your legs.
You let a moan slip past your lips as he nudged his head through your entrance, pushing himself farther into you with a buck of his hips as he let out a groan into your skin. 
“F-fuck.” He stuttered as you pushed your hips down onto him, effectively grinding him farther inside of you as you let a pleasured sigh past your lips.
He started off relatively slow, the calm air in the room causing him to want to savor the moment. 
Savor all the times he couldn’t do this over the past seven months, all the times he had to rely on Skype calls to get him through the ache of missing you. All the times he couldn’t simply reach over and hold you, let alone be so intimate with you. 
“Yoon,” you turned your head back to him, “kiss me.” You breathed, the man immediately responding by leaning up on his elbow, cupping your jaw to bring your face closer to him in your position. 
With your lips on his, he finally felt like he was home. 
“Harder.” You whimpered against his plush pout, making him growl a bit in his throat at your tone before thrusting into you at a faster pace than before. 
His hips continued jolting into yours, the sound of skin slapping skin all to be heard in the room except for your own individual little noises either muffled into each other’s skin or the pillows below your heads. 
Moaning when you began rocking your hips along with his movements, he clutched you a bit tighter to him, arms wrapped around your torso holding you close and making sure he hit all the right spots inside of you. 
“Fuck, yeah. Grind on me, baby.” He rasped, his tone displaying how worked up he was getting at your movements, causing you to circle back on him faster as you felt his cock twitch inside of you. 
“Y-yoongi. I w-want- uhnn,” 
You gripped the duvet tighter as Yoongi wrapped his arm around you to draw dizzying circles over your swollen bud, chest stuttering at the sensation before you whined his name again. 
“Wanna see you cum.” You barely got out through your breathy moans, the man groaning at the lewdness of your words before gently pulling his cock out of you. 
The movement created a wet squelch to resonate beneath the sheets, your boyfriend cursing around your name at the noise. 
Quickly shifting up off your side to a seated position, you nudged Yoongi’s shoulder with tired fingers, pushing him flat down onto the mattress in order to clamber atop his waist.
Dipping down to press your lips to his chapped pout, you traced your hand along his length, touching his tip to his abdomen to hold his erection linear beneath your pussy. 
His moans vibrated your lips as you began rocking over him, your juices soaking his cock further as he gasped, muttering something about how filthy you were before inserting his tongue into your mouth. 
In return, Yoongi’s fingers came up to twist and pull at your nipples, stalling your actions momentarily as you clenched your eyes shut at the combination of his attention to your breast and the way your clit continually rubbed over every vein and ridge of his dick. 
“Stop that, baby. I need to feel you.” Yoongi breathed, urging you to lift up as he took control of his throbbing cock and lined himself up with your entrance, you nearly sinking down on him before you paused. 
“What?” Yoongi asked at your sudden slowed pace, concern laced in his singular word as he knit his eyebrows up at you. 
“Back on top.” You grinned, the man smiling back at you before pinching at the flesh of your hip. 
“I thought something was wrong, you dummy.” He tutted, you giggling in response before placing your lips back on his, the covered tip of Yoongi’s cock prodding at your entrance as you let a content sigh out onto his bottom lip. 
“I promise you, everything is so fucking right.” You said, echoing your boyfriend’s moan as he thrusted up into you, planting his feet flat on the mattress for a stronger push into your cavern. 
“I missed you.” He repeated his earlier words through a grunt, hands tightening on your hips with each of his movements up into your pussy. 
The slaps of skin were what punctuated his thrusts up into you, along with his small whimpering exhales of breath accompanying them. 
“I know,” you chuckled breathlessly, “I know you did.”
It was evident by the twitching of his cock inside of you, his balls raising up beneath your ass to spill his incoming second load as he bit down on his lip below you. 
At his wrecked facial expression, you clamped tighter around him, leaving the poor man breathless and choking for air as your walls put him in a vice grip. 
“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.” He gritted his teeth, his breaths emptying out onto the shell of your ear as you chased your own impending release as well. 
“Yoon,” you cried out, feeling the tension in the pit of your stomach explode once again as he fastened his pace, his tip bumping against your sensitive walls as he held your hip bone for support.
With a moan of your name, Yoongi released into the condom, stalling inside of your pussy before continuing at a steady pace to ensure your release. 
“Cum for me, baby, come on.” He breathed, opening his mouth on your pulse point and tipping you over the edge when you felt his hand come up to your chest to tweak at your nipple. 
Opening your mouth in a silent scream, you felt your second orgasm come on, left breathless as Yoongi bit down on his lip at your walls squeezing his cock. 
You could barely keep your eyes open as you felt your boyfriend pull out, letting your slightly sore legs give out with a pat pat to your thigh. 
You giggled slightly at the action, briefly feeling Yoongi shift you over to lay beside him. The feeling of his weight shifting off the bed had you peeking your bleary eyes open, watching as his pale skin moved across the room along with a rolling plastic sound, as well as a shuffling in the bag lining the garbage bin across the room.
Eyes following his naked body as he crawled back onto the mattress, you smiled sleepily at him, the man returning the look as he traced his hand over your hair. 
“I brought your shirt back in case you get cold, okay? I’ll put it on your table.” He said, planting a kiss to your forehead before tossing the clothing item in his other hand onto the table beside you. 
“Mm, thank you.” You mumbled tiredly, pursing your lips out to prompt him to press another kiss to your pout. 
Tracing your palm over his forehead to slide his hair back from his damp skin, you studied his sleepy eyes, much less wide awake than before your escapades. 
“Did I tire you out?” You chuckled softly, the man smirking a bit as he nodded in answer to you. 
“Absolutely.” He mumbled, laying his arm out for you to crawl into his side, resting your head on his chest as he dropped a kiss to your slightly sweaty scalp. 
“Good. Thas’ my job.” You spoke into his skin, the haziness that your brain was feeling becoming apparent as Yoongi chuckled at you. 
“Love you.” He said, rubbing at your shoulder as your fingers sifted through the hair above his ears. 
“I love you, too. Goodnight, Yoon.” You soothed, the man letting another exhale escape his nose before speaking his last words of the night before he at last fell into slumber. 
“Goodnight, angel.”
598 notes · View notes
minyfic · 2 months ago
Text
bloom - MYG | M
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↣ you’ve been crushing on your brother’s best friend for years now, and after you overcame your diffidence, your feelings escalate which could only cause more agony because he would never return your feelings.
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pairing: yoongi x reader
genre/rating: R | fluff, smut, angst
word count: 14.5K
play: bloom by troye sivan
warnings/tags: brother’s best friend au, brother!Namjoon, strong language, Y/N is really shy, psychologist!Yoongi (ahem), age gap, virgin!reader, pining, these fits at the wedding, Respect (from MOTS7), cigarette smoking, explicit smut- food play, biting, hickey, breath play, fingering, size kink, nipple play, oral (f), dirty talk, protected sex, thigh riding, brief handjob, slight exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, post-sex cuddles
a/n: man, I hate writing Yoongi angst 😭🥺
eomma - mom appa - dad
Nudging the car door with your hip, you attempt to get your bag back on your shoulder as you walk down the narrow pathway to the front door. You hook the other hanger, holding another heavy suit, onto your fingers, palm straining as you push the key into the lock, muttering under your breath.
Breathing a sigh of relief, the door swings open to reveal your mother a few feet away, kneading a huge chunk of dough, flour dusted across her apron.
You throw both large garment bags over the couch, unzipping your bag to retrieve your phone, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face, grimacing when you feel the sweat collected on the sides of your neck.
“Hey.”
Your mother points to the rolling pin that’s hanging really close to the edge of the counter. With a push, it rolls into her awaiting palm, a smile gracing her delicate features.
“Your brother will be here in a bit.”
Plopping down on the barstool, you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.
“He’s not here yet and he already started bossing me around.”
From your periphery, you see your mother hold both her fists on her hips, an eyebrow cocked in admonishment.
“You haven’t seen him in months and—”
“I know,” you glance at her, attention drawn to your phone screen when it vibrates, “I missed him, you know that.”
She returns to her aggressive rolling, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, “is that Jimin?”
You nod, laughing at the meme he had just sent.
“We have plans tonight.”
Your mother huffs out your name, “can’t you postpone your sleepover, Namjoon would want to spend time with you before he leaves.”
Your mouth quirks to the side, knowing that you prefer hanging out with your best friend than having to deal with your preppy older brother.
“I’ll be back Saturday morning, before the wedding.”
You spin around, pointing to the garment bags, “why does he need two suits?”
Your mother smiles, but her response is cut off when you hear the familiar crunch of tires on the driveway. Whipping your head around, a smile splits your face when you spot your brother’s van through the window.
Sprinting out the door, you feel tears prickle the corners of your eyes when your brother charges toward you, lifting you up off the ground in a bone-crushing hug. He strokes the back of your head as you bury your face in his neck, breathing in his comforting scent. This is the only time you’d accept his affections before he begins with his biannual dissection of your life and its aspects.
“Missed me so much?”
His thumb brushes your cheek, the lopsided smile you’ve found yourself forgetting pasted on his face.
Embarrassed, you shove his shoulder, wiping your tears with the heels of your palms.
“How have you been? How’s work?”
As if you haven’t been speaking every single night, when you’re both knackered and seek comfort in each other’s voices. Although you’d never admit it to each other.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, “good good. How’s college?”
You laugh, arms swinging at your sides, unable to wipe the goofy grin off your face.
“Yeah…It’s good, I guess.”
You hear the car door close behind him and you peer around his shoulder, breath catching in your throat when you spot the familiar man walking toward you.
The pale man mumbles your name, “hey,” eyes are set on his shoes.
He extends his hand in your direction, small smile puffing out his cheeks. It takes you a while before you fit your palm into his, shaking frantically. You feel like you’ve been caught off guard. No one had informed you that Yoongi, your brother’s best friend, who so happens to be your crush for two years now, would be arriving with him for the wedding.
“Hey,” you squeak, tip of your boot circling around a rock in the sand.
“Eomma!”
Your mother holds her arms wide open for her beloved son, enveloping him in her tight embrace while you’re left to ogle Yoongi…Yoongi. Min Yoongi. The guy you see almost every holiday and on Namjoon’s blurry Instagram stories. Curse him for being so terrible at taking pictures because Yoongi is handsome. Your gaze drifts back to him, scanning every inch of his attractive features. The guys at your college have no sense of style, but Yoongi is dressed well. And you’re stunned when you notice how much he bulked up since you last saw him.
He’s wearing a black dress shirt tucked into his black slacks, bulky watch glinting in the vanishing sunlight, raven hair sticking up as if he ran his hands through it way too much, tousled, and shiny in the golden hour. Silver earrings swinging as his shoulders shake with his raspy chuckle. You scan his figure just as he does the same, pausing on his veiny, ring-clad hands. My God.
He looks as if he’s already dressed for the wedding.
Namjoon’s shout of Yoongi’s name forces you to divert your attention back to your mother who clings onto your brother like a koala, smiling at Yoongi as he bows.
You shut the door behind them, carting one of Namjoon’s bags into the lounge, catching a glimpse of Yoongi’s smile. It makes you do a double take, lips stretching over his gums, pearly whites on display. His smile.
“Everything in your room is untouched, just the way you left it,” your mother says proudly, shooting a furtive glance in your direction, “but Y/N might’ve slept in your bed a few times.”
Your cheeks heat.
“She misses you too much!”
The house rumbles with rich, masculine laughter with your cheeks flashing an even brighter shade of red.
“I know,” Namjoon sidles up to your side, pulling you into his warmth as you shuffle into the kitchen.
“So Yoongi, you’re staying with us for these three weeks?”
He clears his throat, “just these two weeks and then I’ll book in at a hotel. If that’s fine with you? And Mr. Kim.”
Your gaze darts to your mother, having predicted her response of ‘just stay with us for the three weeks! We don’t mind.’
He takes the barstool on the other side of Namjoon, and you must look around your brother’s chest to see him, gaze flitting straight ahead when your eyes lock for a millisecond.
“I tried to convince your sister,” your mother begins, switching on the oven, “but she won’t listen.”
Your brother smiles, narrowing his eyes in your direction, “why won’t you listen?”
“Let me get you settled in,” your mother ushers Yoongi down the hallway, you watch them disappear into the guest room before you turn to your brother.
“I’m gonna stay over at Jimin’s house until the wedding. Appa said it’s—”
“Park Jimin?!”
Grimacing at your brother’s tone, you nod, rushing to finish what you had been saying, already seeing a flash of anger in his eyes.
“Yes. He’s my best friend now and we literally go to college together.”
It annoys you that even though you’re a grown woman, you still find yourself fearing your brother’s vexed clench of his jaw, hoping he doesn’t fill your father’s ears and manages to change his mind.
“Isn’t he your ex-boyfriend? The guy who broke your heart a year ago?”
The booming voice echoing in the kitchen has you glimpsing down the hallway to ensure that Yoongi can’t hear your tiny disagreement.
“Yes. But we’re best friends now. It was meant to be that way. Please, Joon,” you breathe, jumping off the stool to retreat down the hallway, “you just got here, and I don’t want to ruin your trip.”
You close your room door, not before hearing the whispers that most probably comes from your over-protective, older brother.
A blessing and a curse.
Your best moments in high school were kept hidden from the vigilant eyes of your brother. It annoyed you, most of the time. A guy wasn’t allowed to even look at you the wrong way and your parents were big advocates of his behavior. You don’t know how you managed to keep four relationships away from his curious ears, but the one he did find out about had to be the worst.
But it was all forgotten when you and Jimin came to an agreement; it would be better if you stayed best friends.
You got over it pretty quickly, but Namjoon didn’t. Obviously.
He wanted to bash his face in. Luckily, your parents had caught him in time, saving Jimin’s pretty face from a black eye.
Despite his constant judgement and lack of enthusiasm in your love life, you still love him, and you also had your fair share of over-protective sister moments when a handful of girls had taken advantage of his good nature.
Knowing exactly how he would react if he ever found out that you have a crush on his best friend, you kept it to yourself.
You hope that he doesn’t ruin your summer.
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Fingers typing furiously, you stuff a handful of caramel popcorn into your mouth as you scroll down the screen.
Jimin hovers behind you, crunching in your ear. Your face scrunches up, glaring at him.
“Can you not? You know I have misophonia.”
He holds his palms up placatingly, pulling out the storage basket from under his desk and flipping it over, choosing to sit next to you as you continue with your investigation.
“Did you find him yet?”
You shake your head, still browsing through your brother’s following list.
Jimin points to the screen, “you know there’s a search function. And why do you need my computer for this?”
“It doesn’t work sometimes and my phone is charging.”
Jimin hums, licking his thumb then reaches for the mug to your left.
“Damn. Why does he follow so many science accounts.”
“Well, that’d make sense since he’s some mad scientist.”
“He isn’t” you sigh, almost giving up when a username catches your eye, rather, a profile photo. “Found him!”
Jimin scoots closer to the screen, shoulders sagging when you see that Yoongi has a private account.
“That’s him?”
“Yeah,” you grin, squinting at the minute image in the corner, “oh my God. There he is. When he went blond!”
Jimin gives you a confused look before he’s moving even closer to the screen.
There’s not much you can make out in the picture, but you see his cat-like eyes, pale skin glowing in the lighting and blond hair. He has twelve posts and over seven hundred followers.
“He’s a psychologist?”
“Yep,” you pop the ‘p’, wondering how you can see the other images without you actually following him and making things weird. Because…you’re his best friend’s sister. And you refrained from searching him up on any social media platform these past few years for fear that you might give in to temptation.
But tonight, you gave in. After you saw him today, after all your pathetic feelings sprouted, even worse this time.
“Wait. How old is he? His username is min yoongi 93.”
“He’s twenty-eight,” you whisper, sensing the judgement from Jimin as he gasps.
“I thought he was like, twenty-four or something. He doesn’t look twenty-eight at all!”
When you said you would keep your crush to yourself, that also meant keeping it from your best friend. The last time Yoongi came over, you were so distracted by the situation with Jimin. But this time, you built up the courage to tell him. However, you’re regretting it after noticing his shifty eyes.
Jimin laughs, patting his knees before he returns to his spot on the carpet, taking the bowl of caramel popcorn with him, which has you following him to the floor.
“Well, it’s just a stupid crush, right? It’s not like you planned to date him or anything.”
“He’s hot.”
Jimin’s eyebrows furrow, “so? I’m hot and blond.”
You groan, resting your back against the edge of the bed.
“What? Did you plan on having a summer romance with him or something?” Jimin snorts, smile dropping when he sees the serious look you give him.
“That doesn’t sound so bad, since my love life is basically non-existent at this point.”
Jimin nudges you with his shoulder, playful lilt to his voice, “well, it doesn’t have to be like that.”
You turn your head to look at him, perplexed, “what do you mean?”
“Nothing,” sandy blond hair flopping into his eyes, fingers running through the strands to push it away, “will he be at Seokjin’s wedding?”
“Yeah,” you bring your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, “that’s why he came with Namjoon. They were in college together. Something like that.”
“Then I get to see what’s all the fuss about.”
You pout, “what fuss?”
He pokes your cheek then brings the bowl up to your face, “you’re sulking.”
“Am not,” you stuff your cheeks with the caramel sweetness, sighing dejectedly, “I just…think he’s handsome.”
“Don’t tell me you’re all shy in front of him?”
The way you immediately avert your gaze to the TV has Jimin doubling over with laughter, which earns him a few hits to the back of his head.
“That means,” he sucks in a deep breath, eyes disappearing into slits, “that means—”
“Oh shut up Jimin! I know what it means, okay? It’s been a while since I actually found someone hot.”
Your personality depends on who’s around. If it’s Jimin, you’re yourself, no inhibitions. If it’s your family, yourself but toned down a bit. If you’re in the company of people you haven’t met before, you’re quiet as a mouse and won’t even bother to become acquainted with them, for the sole reason that you’re shy. And if it’s hot guy who might just be your type, you’re a blubbering mess.
Jimin wipes the corner of his eyes with his knuckle, “that’s because you refuse to attend any parties with me.”
“What’s the use? Everyone in college assumes that we’re a couple since we were, at one stage, and then I’m stuck with you the entire night.”
He slings an arm over your shoulder, voice above a whisper, “what’s so bad about being stuck with me?”
You gag, palms pressing into his chest to push him away, “are you drunk?”
He opens his mouth wide, hot puffs of air wafting over your face, you crawl away from him, the stale scent of caramel and milk filling your nostrils.
“Smell my breath! I am not drunk!”
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With an impatient tap of your foot, you glance at your watch to notice that Namjoon is ten minutes late. He was supposed to pick you up from Jimin’s house at 2PM so you could head home and get dressed for the wedding, if he doesn’t arrive within the next five minutes, you might not have enough time for your makeup routine.
When you pull out your phone from your hoodie pocket and call your tardy brother, waiting for him to answer, his white van rolls around the corner and parks near Jimin’s driveway.
Huffing, you lift your overnight bag and pad along the grassy path, about to yell at Namjoon for making you wait, but your words die on your tongue when the door flies open to reveal Yoongi in the driver’s seat.
Your mouth hangs open, brows pinched together in slight confusion before they shoot up to your hairline upon seeing his muscular arms flexing as he grips the wheel.
“Namjoon took your mother to the grocery store and asked me to fetch you,” he informs, staring out the windscreen.
His words only register in your brain when he mumbles your name. The way he pronounces each syllable has a shiver running down the length of your spine.
Hoisting yourself into the van, you place your overnight bag on your lap and click in the seatbelt, fingers knotting together as he speeds off.
Silence falls over you, and with your diffidence, you think that the ride home will only be filled with the sound of the engine whirring until he speaks.
“Your brother missed you a lot, you’re all he talks about,” he chuckles, while you’re debating whether you should ask him if he’s heard the good or bad. You settle on a little snort that has you shrinking in the seat.
The scent surrounding you isn’t the usual smell of your brother’s perfume, but rather Yoongi’s own woody fragrance, drifting over to you in waves with his slight movements.
From the corner of your eye, you see him glance at you a few times before he turns onto your street and before you know it, you’re parking off in the garage.
You mumble a small thanks and rush out of the car to help your mother with the groceries that she’s unpacking from her trunk.
“I got it,” Namjoon grins, taking the bags both you and your mother are struggling with in one of his.
“Show off,” you scoff, watching him carry the sack of potatoes on his shoulder.
“Let me help you,” Yoongi says politely, taking the last grocery bag from your mother who shoots him a crinkled simper, patting his shoulder in thanks.
“You’re our guest, you shouldn’t be doing all this.”
The small scrunch of his nose and chin has your heart skipping a beat, even as he smiles at your mother shyly.
“Ah. It’s nothing,” he blushes, eyes darting to yours for a split second before he sprints past you.
With a dreamy sigh, your gaze sticks to his retreating figure until your mother places her hand on your wrist.
“So helpful.”
You hum, unaware of your mother’s watchful gaze.
“Maybe this time you can talk to him about—"
“Eomma!”
“What are we squealing about?”
“Nothing,” you and your mother say in unison, the sudden change in atmosphere urges you to rush into the house with your mother following close behind.
When you get to your room, the first thing you do is hang up the dress you bought for the wedding. But the thought that your mother thinks Yoongi is a good guy, enough for you to date, makes you pause for a moment.
There’s nothing you can hide from her and she’s probably the only one who knows about your crush on Yoongi and its depth. However, your mother is the type of parent who drops hints here, there and everywhere, yet she knows how quick-witted her son is.
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Twirling around in your coral dress, you scan the crowd, eyes widening when you spot a familiar face, one you hoped to never see again.
“What the fuck is Jungkook doing here?” You whisper-shout into Jimin’s ear, grip tightening on your champagne glass.
Jimin gives the man, who had been passing by and managed to hear your little outburst, a perfunctory smile, mumbling your name in exasperation.
“Did you forget that he’s Seokjin’s brother?”
“I didn’t,” you grit, slotting your arm in his as you walk the short distance to Namjoon, “I just didn’t want to see him again.”
“Well, I’m sorry princess, it’s not my fault that he tried to finger you in front of your parents.”
You’re about to retort that you never said it was his fault, before you feel Namjoon yanking you to his side, pulling you out of Jimin’s grip.
“Enjoying yourself? Jimin?”
Choosing to ignore your passive-aggressive brother, you take in the hushed laughter and jubilant atmosphere, it’s been years since you attended a wedding, the fresh scent of baby’s breath sitting on the display table drifts over to you, calming your senses. Seokjin and his wife wear effulgent smiles, just as dazzling as the décor.
“Yeah,” Jimin clears his throat, eyeing your brother who towers over him, “this is nice.”
You poke Namjoon’s ribs when you catch Seokjin’s wife wiping a blob of fresh cream off Seokjin’s face, snickering at the sight.
“You look…dashing,” Jimin compliments, gesturing to Namjoon’s black suit as he adjusts his red dress shirt, “but why sunglasses? Indoors?”
Namjoon taps the edge of his tinted glasses, “it’s my best friend’s wedding. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
Jimin’s nervousness spoils the air, and you lunge toward him, breaking out of Namjoon’s hold.
“Where’s…Yoongi?”
Namjoon points toward the exit, behind the gigantic pillars, “he’s outside somewhere. He doesn’t like crowds.”
Oh. How could you forget?
Before Namjoon enquires about your curiosity, you’re dragging Jimin to the other side of the hall, surveying the hors d’oeuvres.
You’re impatient to see Yoongi, mostly because you know he would look even more attractive in a suit and also because you haven’t seen him all weekend, since their arrival.
You’re about to yell at Jimin for his incessant shoulder taps when he yanks your arm to twist you around, breath catching in your throat when you see Yoongi entering the hall, tugging on the lapels of his grey suit jacket.
Mouth hanging open, you’re rendered speechless as Yoongi pads along the hallway, hair held back by a headband, yellow sunglasses, confident stride. Your palms feel sweaty, mouth dry, the air around you feels thick, as if the dress you’re wearing suddenly got tighter.
You feel someone press their hand on your back, realizing that it’s your mother when she places you in front of a short, bald man, broken out of your reverie.
“This is Mr. Kang, CEO of Rain Inc,” your mother chirps, jutting her elbow into your side until you bow, “he said that he’ll be happy to provide you with a job once you’re qualified.”
The stout man’s gaze flits from your face down to your heels, rotating the drink in his hand.
“Eomma,” Namjoon wears a smile you know is forced as he comes to your mother’s side, Yoongi stops behind him, scanning the food sprawled out on the table.
“Oh,” your mother exhales, gesturing to Mr. Kang, “remember what I said about him and his generous offer.”
Namjoon glances at you, then the man, then back at his mother, fingers curling around your mother’s arm.
“Would you excuse us for a second?”
Namjoon pulls your mother to the other side of the table with you tailing them, seeing the furious look in his eyes.
“What did I tell you about Mr. Kang?”
Your mother giggles, oblivious to Namjoon’s frustration, “I was just introducing your sister to her new boss. Well, he’ll be her boss after she graduates.”
Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose, speaking plainly, “you want your daughter to work for that pervert?”
Her eyebrows furrow, “he is not a pervert and she’ll be working under his son.”
Namjoon exhales a dry laugh, one that has your own anger bubbling to the surface.
“Even worse! Do you have any idea what—”
“Namjoon,” you grit, uncaring of Jimin and Yoongi who are no doubt listening to your little tiff, “don’t ruin this for me, you’re being paranoid again.”
“I’m not ruining this for you,” he seethes, placing a hand on your shoulder to squeeze lightly, “I’m just protec—”
“Protecting me,” you chuckle humorlessly, “you did the exact same thing the last time I was offered a small job at the gas station.”
You hear your mother call out your name as you jog toward the exit and head out into the crisp, night air, hugging yourself while you come to a stop near the railing.
This isn’t the first time Namjoon will ruin a good job opportunity for you. Or ruin anything at all.
Just when you thought that you’d get the job security you need so you can focus more on graduating rather than what follows, Namjoon would sink his enormous foot into your hopes. Fingers twisting around the railing, you tilt your head, eyes boring into the expanse above you. Twinkling with stars that seems to tip off a short scream, you scrunch your eyes shut when you hear the footsteps behind you increase in volume.
“Fucking Namjoon. He makes me so fucking angry!”
Expecting Jimin to wrap his arm around your shoulder to calm your annoyance any minute now, your head sags between your shoulders, a recognizable smoky voice causing your head to snap up in surprise.
“You should listen to your brother,” Yoongi advises, standing a few feet away from you, overlooking the fountain lighting up the parking lot, water trickling down into the pond.
After processing his presence, you bite down the bitter words threatening to spill from your lips, choosing to stew and tighten your hold around the innocent metal, caught in your anger.
From the corner of your eye, you see him pull out a white box, propping the stick between his lips before a flame kisses the tip, a puff of smoke cutting through the air.
The knowledge that Yoongi smokes causes you to face him fully, arms folded.
“Since when?”
His eyebrows shoot up, the same expression which has you readjusting your dress, his glow a little overpowering under the golden lighting.
“Only when I’m stressed,” he shrugs, lips curling into a smirk, which has you shifting from foot to foot, exposed under his gaze, “since when?”
“Since when what?” You pout in confusion.
“Since when do you talk to me?”
His question has you stuttering, hand returning to its torturous hold on the railing.
“Since…I…”
You search for a plausible answer, each one seeming a little too naïve.
“Since you turned twenty-two?”
Gaze shifting to his face, you watch the cigarette glow red, mesmerized by the slight part of his pouty lips.
“Guess so,” you answer, choosing to lean against the railing now, a full view of the obstreperous guests through the elongated windows.
“How’s college?”
“Kay…How’s w-work?”
Namjoon leaps out of the hall, searching the balcony frantically before his eyes zero in on you. Yoongi jolts away from the railing and puts out his cigarette, receiving a pat from Namjoon as he passes him on his way back inside.
Your brother sports the familiar lugubrious expression, one that indicates his guilt.
With a sigh of your name, he steps around you to stand uncomfortably close, no doubt his tactic of getting you to forgive him.
“I’m sorry,” he nudges your shoulder while your chin is hooked onto your shoulder, refusing to look at him.
“I’m sorry. Look, I just…don’t want anyone to hurt you and I know you’re older and wiser now. I just feel like I should step in sometimes, eomma’s judgement proved to be obscured on multiple occasions.”
You cave, tilting your head to blink at your brother.
“You’re talking about the time she tried to set you up with that woman from the antique store?”
He rolls his eyes, “yes! Exactly! She assumed that I liked older woman because I mentioned that Kim Taehee is my celebrity crush.”
Giggling at Namjoon’s exasperated tone, your argument from a few minutes ago seems to be forgotten.
“When you’re fifty-years-old, you’ll still be my little sister,” he begins, eyes unwavering and stern, “and I would never step down from my duty.”
“Your duty as what? A maddening older brother?”
He shoves your shoulder, no doubt taking advantage of his power, as you step into the raucous hall.
Reunited with Jimin, you fill him in on the events during your short time apart. Ensuring that you include the small conversation you had with Yoongi.
“I saw him disappear just now…with a girl.”
“What?”
Your smile falls, fisting Jimin’s sleeve for him to spill the details.
“I don’t know! I just saw him—”
“The buffet will be open soon,” Yoongi passes you with a small nod, a tall girl with burgundy hair following him toward the front of the hall, near the stage.
“Was that the girl?”
Jimin nods, eyes squinted in her direction.
You laugh, “that’s the caterer.”
“Oh…So? He can still smash.”
With Jimin’s words, you observe their interactions for the rest of the evening. Noting the way she constantly touches his arm and how he leans in close to whisper in her ear. Feigning disinterest but with a little investigation, you had discovered that she’s one of the youngest caterers in your town. Successful and nearing her thirties.
It’s just a crush but it does dim your mood for the rest of the evening, even through Seokjin’s boisterous speech and Namjoon’s slip of what gift he had gotten for the newlyweds.
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“And we tried to dance on the bridge! I know Yoongi was pretending to be brave,” Namjoon cackles, recounting the events of the time they had visited the sky bridge which was 541 meters above ground level. Even the thought causes a wave of goosebumps to rise on your skin.
Yoongi props his elbow on the couch, staring at his lap, cheeks a rosy pink.
“I wasn’t scared,” he grins, “maybe a little, but you were shivering!”
This is the first time you’re seeing Yoongi all whiny and you find it endearing, head resting on the pillow while you watch him dreamily.
“I wasn’t!”
Your brother shouts from his place on the armchair, reaching for the marshmallows kept on the coffee table.
“Keep it down,” your mother emerges from the hallway, hair unkempt, squinting at the lamp that seems a little too bright for her liking, “your father and I are trying to sleep.”
“Sorry,” you all say in chorus, giggling once she’s out of sight.
Your eyes feel heavy, slipping shut before you feel a hand on your head.
“Are you tired? You should go to bed.”
Eyes flying open, you fix your posture, proving to your brother that you aren’t tired at all. Mostly because you want to spend more time listening to Yoongi’s entertaining stories, but his soporific voice makes it difficult for you.
“I’m not.”
Namjoon lets out a noisy yawn before springing up to his feet and taking the bowl of marshmallows with him.
“I’m tired. See you guys tomorrow.”
“I was actually gonna head out for a walk,” Yoongi informs, rising to his feet which piques your interest.
“Oh? Want me to join you?”
Yoongi shakes his head, “it’s okay, you’re tired.”
“I want to come,” you confess, voice tiny for fear of being rejected.
Namjoon’s already padding down the hallway, “goodnight.”
“Night~”
Yoongi glances at you, rubbing the back of his nape, “coming?”
“Yeah,” you respond, trying to sound nonchalant while you tie up your laces.
“Might wanna wear jacket. It’s cold outside,” he informs, pointing at your short-sleeved pajama shirt.
You unhook your fuzzy beige peacoat from the coat stand, mouth in a small ‘o’ when you see him open the door and step outside.
“Where’s your jacket?”
He shrugs, veiny forearms twitching with the movement.
“This shirt is warm.”
He’s still wearing his outfit from the wedding, sans blazer, headband, and glasses. The vest hugs his torso perfectly and you think about how much you want to hug him.
“You coming?”
Shifting back to reality, you shut the door behind you and trail after him to the driveway, attempting to keep your steps in his pace, tucking your hands in your jacket pockets.
Your neighborhood is deathly quiet at night, save for the few barks and cars rolling down the street, but other than that, it’s serene.
If there’s one thing you love, it’s night drives. But walking through the sleeping homes is even better, absorbing your surroundings fully, the orange hue from the streetlights accompanying the moon for your view.
“How’s work?”
You pick up from your abandoned conversation, kicking a pebble as you step onto the road next to him.
He sighs, “you think your life is fucked up until you hear other people’s issues.”
You’re about to laugh before apologies come tumbling from his lips.
“Why are you apologizing?” You ask, staring at the side of his face a little puzzled.
“I shouldn’t be speaking like that in front of you.”
A wry laugh echoes throughout the street, filling the dull air with life.
“What gave you that idea?”
His eyes widen a fraction, refusing to meet your gaze in a way that makes you wonder if that’s how you appear to him, flustered.
“Your brother…I just noticed that the way he speaks around you is different, compared to other times.”
Your eyebrows pinch together at the new discovery, “really?”
“Yeah,” he exhales, shoving his hands into his pockets.
He quickens his pace a bit and you have the perfect view of his cute ass, even cuter when his hands slot deep into his pockets, stretching out the material.
“Do you hear that?”
“What?”
Straight after your question, the rumbling sound of music permeates the air, coming from Yoongi’s supposed destination as he strides forward and gestures for you to follow him.
“Do you know where it’s coming from?”
“No,” he pants, steps hurried while your legs struggle to keep up with him, “let’s find out.”
The further you jog, the louder the music gets, and it isn’t long before an ornate house comes into view, rollicking laughter filtering out onto the yard where more people cluster and chatter.
You glance at Yoongi who’s just as wide-eyed as you before a smile splits his face upon recognizing the girl who steps out onto the pavement.
“Yoongi?”
“Ria?”
The way they seem to communicate with their eyes leaves you with an unsettling twist in the pit of your stomach, feeling a little out of place.
“Yoongi?”
He blinks, chuckling to himself before pointing at Ria who suddenly notices that Yoongi has a companion.
He says your name before Ria introduces herself with a polite smile.
“What’s going on here?”
Yoongi enquires, gums exposed, the girl dressed in a gaudy outfit, dripping in jewelry.
“My uncle and cousins just came back from my hometown, so we’re having a little party,” she informs with a giggle, eyes set on Yoongi.
“Oh,” he smiles, “that’s nice.”
“You should join us!” She yells, “that way we can catch up! It’s been years since we last spoke.”
“Yeah, years,” he snorts, a hint of nervousness in his voice that has your stomach flipping in on itself.
He turns to you, “up for another party?”
You direct his gaze to your clothing, “I’m in pajamas.”
He laughs, and you’re slightly afraid that he might tell you to walk home by yourself so he can catch up with an old friend or whoever she is.
Her blue eyes, which you can tell are contacts, dart between you and Yoongi as he informs that you need to head back home.
“Alright,” she smiles, “maybe some other time. How long are you staying?”
“Three weeks,” his answer is immediate, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.
“We’re bound to run into each other,” she winks, the sight making your bile rise, especially when Yoongi throws a wink of his own over his shoulder.
Once the house is out of view, you can’t help the million and one questions that are planted in your mind, but only a few leave your mouth.
“Who is she?”
“We used to date in high school.”
You can’t help but notice that there’s more distance between the two of you compared to when you were walking in the opposite direction, sadness rising when you realize that your walk will come to an end soon as you’re nearing your house.
“I’m guessing there’s a lot of history between you two,” you try to sound nonchalant, side eyeing him.
“Yeah,” he replies wistfully, as if a thousand memories flood his mind just as you asked.
When you enter the warm reprieve of your home, he mumbles a goodnight and trudges into the guest room. Leaving you with your acidic thoughts.
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Chewing on your lower lip, you toss around the berries in the bowl, while Jimin notices that you’ve been playing with your food for the past hour.
“Okay,” he says finally, setting down his chopsticks, “I say you can skip real food and have dessert and then you don’t want to eat it? Is the yogurt sour?”
You sigh, knowing that it would be redundant if you tell your best friend what’s actually wrong.
“Nothing.”
He reaches for your hand across the table, “I know it’s not nothing. Talk to me.”
“Well,” you sigh, scanning the scarcely populated restaurant which is unusual for a Saturday night and holiday season, “Yoongi.”
Jimin blinks twice before licking his lips and urging you to continue.
“So, remember how I told you that we met his ex the other night?”
He nods.
“After that night, for the past week now, he’s been going out for walks every night. He doesn’t even ask if I want to go with. And sometimes, when we’re all asleep, I still see him from my window.”
“So, you think he’s going out to see his ex?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, spooning a few blueberries into your mouth.
“Maybe they’re catching up? Like you said the other night.”
“Maybe.”
“Look at me.”
Gulping down your milkshake, you meet Jimin’s gaze, flipping your hand over to squeeze his heated palm.
“This might be hard to hear, but as your best friend, it would be cruel if I didn’t tell you this.”
You blink, heart leaping to your throat.
“You and Yoongi…There’s nothing stopping him from going back to his ex. There’s also no reason for you to feel disheartened because nothing is going on between you. Like you said before, it’s a harmless crush.”
“You’re right,” you admit, but that doesn’t stop your heart from clenching in your chest, a slight doubt that it might’ve escalated from a harmless crush to you developing feelings for him.
The chatter during every meal, late nights spent arguing over the rules of Uno with your brother, until he says he’s going for a walk.
“Why now?”
Your eyes flit up to Jimin’s, brows creasing, “what do you mean?”
“I mean, you see him often. Well, not as often as before but this time around, it’s like you’re different. You seem to…care more.”
“I don’t know,” you whine, resuming the twists and turns of your spoon, “it’s just that, after we actually started having conversations, conversations that last longer than a few seconds, I’ve just realized how much he appeals to me. He’s intelligent, thoughtful and polite, good with kids, from what I’ve seen, has a nice job, lives on his own yet still manages to make time for his family.”
“You mean, you realized that he might just be your dream guy?”
“Yeah,” you chuckle half-heartedly, propping your elbows on the table as if you’ve only found that out now.
“He’s not like the guys I dated before. No offense,” you snort, while Jimin’s eyes remain void of emotion, lips in a thin line.
“But he’s your brother’s best friend.”
When Jimin says it, it doesn’t sound all that bad. But you understand the weight of those words. Yoongi is your brother’s best friend. Your over-protective bigger brother who would literally kill someone with his bare hands when pushed over a certain edge.
“Oh—”
“What?” You follow Jimin’s sight which is directed to the side of your head.
When you place your hands on the armrests to turn around and find out what has him stupefied, he stops you.
“Don’t turn around.”
Even more intrigued, you wiggle his hand around the table, “what is it?”
“Yoongi.”
Blood rushes to your ears, “you’re fucking kidding.”
“Not. And he’s with a woman.”
Ria.
“Does she have long hair? Slightly tanned?”
“You’ll see for yourself,” he says, dipping his head, “they’re walking past.”
You sit ramrod straight, eyes in your bowl until Yoongi passes you, cupping your hand around your cheek. Praying he doesn’t see you.
What would he be doing in a swanky restaurant like this with his ex? Are they on a date? Are they planning to get back together?
Your mind overheats just as much as your face, even more after you hear the deep voice shout out your name as if to say ‘whata lovely surprise.’
Jimin clears his throat, squeezing your hand a bit until you look up to see Yoongi standing a foot away, Ria hovering behind him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Eating,” the corner of your mouth quirks up, recalling that you haven’t seen him at breakfast this morning, so he must’ve left early to spend the day with her. Your throat seems to constrict.
He chuckles, wiping the side of his nose with his knuckle then jutting his thumb to the slim woman behind him.
“You remember Ria?”
“Yeah,” you offer a tight-lipped smile, returning her wave.
For a second, you see his amiable gaze dart to Jimin’s hand which is still in your grasp.
“Oh,” you giggle, “you remember Jimin? My best friend.”
The corners of his lips lift before his orbs set on yours, an indecipherable expression on his face.
“Have fun kids.”
Anger courses through you as he bids farewell and directs Ria to the back of the restaurant with a hand on the small of her back, which burns into your eyelids, heart twitching in a feeling you don’t want to address.
Not now. Or ever.
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“We’re going to the beach later. Wanna come?”
Namjoon calls from the lounge. You’re busy blending a concoction of fruits, adding a splash of almond milk before whizzing it once more.
“I don’t know,” you reply, even though you really would love to witness Yoongi laying in the sun, well not in the sun but under an umbrella, lathered up in sunscreen, hiding away from waves.
“It’ll be fun! You can invite…Jimin,” the way Namjoon spits out his name makes you chortle, transferring the sludge into two glasses and heading toward the lounge, not before bumping into Yoongi on your way there, keeping your gaze on the carpet as he beats you to the lounge.
“Where’s mine?”
The slight pout in his voice makes your heart soar. You give Yoongi yours which has Namjoon offering you half of his smoothie to which you refuse, relishing in the way Yoongi’s face lights up in praise.
“Come with us. You’re gonna miss us when we’re gone,” Namjoon prods, classic Namjoon to use that on you.
“Yeah,” Yoongi’s eyebrows wiggle, “we’ll have fun.”
Just for a second, you wonder if he actually wants you to go or he’s just being nice to his best friend’s sister. If everything he ever did, his affability, his small favors, were because of the link to your older brother.
He’s just being nice.
“Coming or not?”
You sink a finger into Namjoon’s dimple, “I’ll come because I’m gonna miss you.”
He pats your thigh, “great! Now go get dressed.”
“We’re going now?”
“Yeah! Go on.”
“And you said I can invite Jimin?”
“Yeah, invite all your college friends,” he peals, slurping up the last bits of the smoothie.
With all your beach-friendly clothing heaped on your bed, you shuffle through each costume to find one that fits. Why do you still have the ones you wore at your eighth birthday party? But after some consultation, Jimin had advised that you wear your bikini under your shorts and a loose shirt in case ‘big bro Joon’ goes apeshit.
Throwing your white T-shirt with a small doodle of Pocoyo on the left side of your chest, you toss some beach essentials into a woven bag and fit a snug baseball cap over your hair.
“Is Ria coming?”
You stop in the hallway just out of view, knowing that it’s wrong to eavesdrop but glad that you have good timing.
“She has the flu.”
“Oh,” you hear your brother say, popping into the kitchen wearing an unsuspecting smile.
“Ready.”
“Great,” Namjoon grins, waving you toward the door.
You’re about to walk out the kitchen when Yoongi steps in front of you, his chest brushing your hands that are held up and balled into fists, stomach lurching at the sight of his tongue darting out as his gaze cascades down your figure.
Donning a black cap, shorts and T-shirt to match, he holds the door open for you while you’re still figuring out what that look was, even as you’re sitting in the backseat of your brother’s van, lip tucked between your teeth.
“Is Jimin coming?”
“Huh? Oh yeah. And Taehyung.”
“Okay. I invited Seokjin and his wife.”
Your eyebrows furrow, “shouldn’t they be on honeymoon?”
“He had some work stuff to attend to before they leave,” Yoongi answers.
“Oh.”
When you arrive at the beach, Jimin and gang are already waiting with the perfect spot picked out for you to relax, but your smile falls when you spot the devilish grin you wish you would stop seeing so often.
“What is he doing here?”
Jungkook and Taehyung throw sand at each other, laughing like buffoons while Seokjin and his wife stroll down the shore, in their own world.
“I invited Taehyung, which is kind of a package deal. And he came with his brother. Plus,” he whispers, slinging an arm around your shoulder, “he isn’t half as bad as before. You know, four years ago when we were first year students.”
“Heyyy,” Jungkook and Taehyung chime, shoving each other around.
“Hi,” you reply timidly, hair whipping around with the unrelenting wind.
“Where’s your brother and—”
A shout of your name makes you sprint in the opposite direction toward Namjoon who asks for the beach towels while Yoongi plugs the umbrella in the sand.
“I’m gonna catch a quick swim,” Namjoon exclaims, swimming trunks on as he pulls his shirt over his head and asks you to lather his back.
“It’ll just come off with the water,” Yoongi laughs, calling after Namjoon as he waddles down the small bank into the water.
You’re about to shove the sunscreen back inside your bag when Yoongi pipes up from his place under the umbrella, already getting cosy.
“Will you put some on for me too?”
Mouth a little dry at the prospect of touching Yoongi’s body, you shake your head and try to conceal your flustered state with your own snarky remark.
“What’s the use if you’re gonna lay under the umbrella?”
“Yeah, like a grandpa!” Jungkook yells, earning a glare from Yoongi which sends a shiver down the length of your spine, still trying to envision the smooth expanse of his back. Silky skin trembling under your touch. What if he was putting on sunscreen for you? His huge, broad palms sliding down your thighs, across your neck…
Jimin yells your name into your ear, causing the bottle of sunscreen to slip and land next to Yoongi’s head.
Scrambling to pick it up, you lean down and give Yoongi a full display of your breasts unintentionally, he gobbles up the sight, piercing eyes travelling down your chest before his eyes flicker up to yours.
Cheeks heating, you stand up to your full height, which isn’t much next to Jungkook, and ask him to put on some sunscreen for you before pulling off your top and cap, unaware of the way three out of four males gawk at your skin.
“I can do it,” you hear Jimin say, but his hand dangles at his side when you shake your head, pulling your hair over your left shoulder while spinning around.
Jungkook’s hands feel great on your skin but Yoongi’s burning stare feels even better, sunglasses pulled down the slope of his nose as he unabashedly eyes you down while you do the same. You chew on your bottom lip, gaze unfaltering while moaning slightly when Jungkook’s thumbs smooth a knot in your neck, seeing Yoongi’s lips part ever so slightly.
Too caught up in the way Yoongi licks his lips while his gaze trails to your boobs, Namjoon jogs toward you with a towel wrapped around his shoulders, hair and body soaked.
“Where’s your top?”
He asks, a little wide-eyed, which you expected.
You point to the white fabric which was thrown next to Yoongi’s towel.
“Okay,” your brother picks it up from the sand and lays down his towel, “when you’re done swimming it’ll be here.”
You, Jimin and Yoongi whip your heads in Namjoon’s direction, obviously shocked after remembering your last experience at the beach.
Taking advantage of the situation, you thank Jungkook and unbutton your shorts, pulling it down your legs to then run toward the shore, giggling and jumping into the water.
Jimin follows, splashing around you while showing off a bit which prompts an unspoken swimming contest between the four of you.
After successfully getting Taehyung’s and Jimin’s heads under the water, Jungkook returns to teasing Yoongi. Yelling about what a grandpa he is while you all guffaw and add to his teases which has Yoongi flinging his sunglasses to the side and charging toward you.
They manage to fight the waves while you struggle, before quickly regaining your balance and forming an evil plan.
“Help! Help!”
You shout loud enough only for Yoongi to hear.
Catching his frantic expression, he walks into the water, muttering curses under his breath before wrapping his arms around you while still trying to prevent the water from getting onto his face.
With a twist of your arm, you emerge from the water and place your hands on the top of his head to dunk him under, cheers and shouts of your name filling the air while Yoongi splutters.
He wipes his eyes and nose while you draw back from him, a little frightened when a vengeful tilt appears in his eyes.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” he warns, leaping toward you. Your efforts to swim away from him are useless because he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down, laughing breathlessly while your cheeks ache from smiling so much, pretending to fight in his grip which is just as strong as you thought. You’re weak in his arms.
Eventually, he lets you swim away from him while still holding your hand, bobbing with the waves, saltwater clogging your ears.
He brings your intertwined fingers in front of his face and if you weren’t submerged in the icy ocean, your whole face would’ve been bright red.
“Your hands are so small,” he remarks, pulling you closer and bringing your other hand up to join his fist, his bony hand holding both of yours, you’re trembling under his scrutiny, “both your hands can fit in one of mine.”
You manage a small smile with your thunderous heartbeat, waves forcing you closer to him with your hands still in his hold. Lips pouty and wet, beady orbs searching yours. For a moment, it’s as if his emotions mirror yours, so trapped in his heated gaze which renders the cold water around you a little helpless compared to the fire ensnaring your heart, lips parting in slight shock when his mouth brushes your knuckles.
With a sharp intake of breath, your hands plop into the water and he’s spinning around, leaving you to float in your sea of feelings which seem much deeper than what you’ve allowed yourself to acknowledge.
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Jimin offers to give you a ride home while you’re left to ruminate as you watch the trees zoom by. Yoongi’s name echoing in your mind. When he parks in front of your house, he stops you with a hand encircling your wrist.
“Yeah?”
“There’s something I have to tell you,” he confesses, voice urgent, eyes glued to yours.
“Okay,” you smile, waiting for him to continue.
“I…Where was Ria today?”
Your face scrunches up in confusion, “Ria? I heard Yoongi say she was sick. Why?”
He sighs, head bobbing in understanding, “do you know that…if Ria was there today, at the beach, Yoongi wouldn’t even care about you.”
Jaw dropping, you squint at your best friend who struggles with his words.
“I mean…You think he would even care about you if someone else was there to entertain him? The only reason why he showed you a bit of attention today was because there was no on else there for him to passhis time with while he’s here…on holiday.”
“Jimin,” you mumble, “where is this coming from?”
He scrunches his eyes shut before rambling on.
“You’re just his best friend’s sister. That’s all you’ll ever be to him.”
A tiny puncture to your heart causes the corner of your eyes to dampen, “what?”
“I love you. You deserve to be with me. Not some guy who chooses to talk to you when he’s bored and has nothing better to do.”
“Jimin,” your lips wobble, voice small, “we tried and you broke my heart and…and I forgave you.”
He takes your hand in his, “yes, but I’ve changed now. That was a long time ago. All my gifts and…our dates. You have my heart. Please, give me another chance,” he pleads, thumb rubbing over your knuckles.
“Jimin…I need time.”
“Of course,” he lets go of your hand, leaning over to unclick your seatbelt.
“But you didn’t deserve to say all those things to me about Yoongi.”
“It was the truth,” he states matter-of-factly, switching on the ignition.
“You don’t know that!”
“Anyone can see it! Especially me!”
A sobs wracks your body as you open the car door and run into the house, ignoring the calls of your name.
Locking your room door, you flop down on your bed with tears streaming down your cheeks, grabbing your pillow to muffle the cries that you can’t bite down.
If what Jimin said was true, then your feelings are nothing but a curse. And the hurt will be something that’ll live with you for a long, long time because it’s too late. A crush that blossomed not with petals, but with thorns, scraping down your throat.
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Chopping the orange in half furiously, you wipe a strand of hair away from your face, squeezing the juice and depositing it into the large bowl brimming with a variety of fruits.
Jimin’s words refused to give you a modicum of sleep, constantly making you question reality as if you don’t do that enough. All along, his advice was influenced by his feelings for you, and it has you doubting your entire relationship. How unaware you were. You gave him a chance, and he cheated on you. You had the heart to forgive him and resume with your friendship since it was too precious to give up. And the fact that he might’ve sabotaged your thoughts and steered you away from dating other guys after him, is something you refuse to ignore.
Yoongi. As if you weren’t at war with yourself, was another bird twittering in your ear, reminding you of his clandestine looks and touches, his demeanor that changes drastically around your brother. Is he actually using you as past time? He wouldn’t do something like that. You’re his best friend’s sister. He wouldn’t. But why now? Why is he displaying a change of character toward you?
As if materializing from your thoughts, Yoongi walks out of the hallway, humming to himself before spotting you.
Slightly surprised, you adjust your apron and rinse your hands.
“I thought you went out with Namjoon.”
“Nope,” he responds with a shake of his head, raven hair dusting his collar as he places his palms on the counter and leans forward to peer into the enormous bowl to your left.
“It smells so fucking good in here. What is it?”
“Fruit salad,” you blush, stirring the mix like a witch’s brew, “want some?”
You expected him to refuse but he comes around to the other side of the counter, firm chest a breath away from your back.
Ignoring the slight tingle, you grab a spoon and scoop up some of the juice, a slice of banana being thrown in, and hand it to him, except he doesn’t take it, just opens his mouth, tongue out for you to feed him like a toddler.
Gulping, you ignore the way his arm grazes your side when you reach up and push the spoon between his lips. He moans around the utensil, eyes closing before releasing it.
Heat gathering in your abdomen, you refocus on mixing the salad when he reaches into the drawer and pulls out a similar spoon.
“Let me return the favor,” he chirps, dipping into the bowl then holding the spoon up to your mouth, his left hand held under to prevent it from dripping on you.
With a deep breath, you part your lips and take the spoon into your mouth, all while holding eye contact. When he draws it away, some spills from the corner of your mouth.
“Oops,” he husks, eyes tracking the juice that drips down the side of your mouth, down your chin to collect at your collarbone.
When you reach up to wipe it away, cheeks flushing, he grips your wrist, heart stuttering in your chest when he leans forward and dips his head, warm breath wafting over your skin.
A soft gasp escapes your lips when he drags his pout from your collarbone up to your chin, stopping at the corner of your mouth.
“Tastes better,” he rasps. Your pussy clenches, your own juices leaking into your panties.
The open-mouthed smirk he has on feels like a figment of your imagination, as if he isn’t a few inches away from your face.
A little disappointed when he moves away, you reach into the bowl with his spoon, uncaring that the rest of your family will be eating from this very dish, and hold it up to his lips.
He takes it greedily but you don’t let it fall into his mouth, instead, you let it pour down his chin, staining his white shirt.
“Shit.”
“Oops,” you grin, leaning up on your tippy toes in a sudden bout of confidence to place your hand on his shoulder and mouth up his Adam’s apple, tongue darting out when you slide up the curve of his hot chin.
He quickly reaches for the other spoon and scoops up a hefty amount of juice, letting it drip down the side of your neck then wrapping an arm around your waist.
You can hear your heart pounding in your ears when he begins to lave at your skin, teeth dragging up the sensitive area while you throw your head back for his easy access, enraptured by his scent.
“Yoongi…”
That seems to ignite something in him because his lips graze yours, and you think you might drown in his pupils.
“Can I ki—”
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
Like a hot potato, Yoongi drops his hold on you and steps away from the counter while you suck your lips in, the stentorian voice of your brother has you staring into the orange juice with a hint of shame, cut up fruits floating in the tainted juices.
“Get the fuck out,” Namjoon growls, your head snaps up, tears welling your eyes when Yoongi walks out of the kitchen without any protest.
Heart feeling like its about to burst out of your chest, you follow Yoongi into the guest room, vision blurred as you watch him pack his bag, wearing a stolid expression.
“Yoongi,” you sob, “don’t go.”
“I have to,” he grits, “what I did was wrong?”
“No it wasn’t. I wanted it too! And I will tell Namjoon.”
He zips up his bag and storms out of the room, putting on his shoes hurriedly with you tailing him through the driveway, grabbing his arm.
“I’ll tell Namjoon how I feel about you! It’ll be ok—”
“What don’t you understand?!”
Yoongi yells, his eyes a solid contrast of the gentleness you saw in them earlier.
“It was fucking wrong! You’re just a fucking child!”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You are literally six years older than me!”
“Yeah well, in my eyes you’re a kid, okay? And it was wrong of me to take advantage of you like that,” he breathes, nostrils flaring before yanking his hand out of your hold and walking down the street.
“You didn’t take advantage of me,” you wail, breaths quickening as you run after him.
“You’re my best friend’s little sister,” he shouts, eyebrows furrowed, fringe poking into his eyes, “do you have any idea what Namjoon would do if he knew about—” he takes a shuddering breath then comes to a stop, turning to you with sorrow in his eyes “—it’s best if I just leave. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“So you would choose to hide your feelings because of your friendship?”
“No,” his jaw clenches, staring at the gravel beneath his shoes, “I don’t even think anything would work out between us.”
“Why?” You cry, arms wrapped around your body for comfort.
“Because you’re too immature.”
It feels like someone lodged a dagger into your heart then twisted for good measure.
“What?”
“I respect your brother a lot. It’s better if you’re with someone your own age. Someone like Jimin,” he exclaims, slowly backing away from you.
“Jimin?”
Tears flow down your cheeks, neck even stickier.
“Yeah,” he yells, turning down the street which will lead him to Ria’s house.
Eyes stinging, you walk the short distance back home, unwilling to deal with your brother and the lecture he has prepared for you.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Leave me alone.”
Namjoon sing-songs your name, walking behind you down the narrow hallway.
“Don’t be like that. Talk to me.”
You slam the door in his face, back pressed against the door as you sink to your knees.
Your brother’s voice is muffled through the door as he begs for you to ‘open up’ ‘talk to me’ ‘I love you’ ‘I’m only trying to protect you.’ The same bullshit which has you draining your tear ducts until all that’s left is your anguish and the moon, shining through your sheer curtains that billow out with the wind.
Whatever Jimin said was true.
And for a second, you think that it’s good that Namjoon had found out. What if things escalated? What if you kissed only to find out later that he would give up his feelings for his bromance?
If Yoongi thinks that nothing will work out between you, then why did he touch you like that? Why did he look at you like that? The ephemeral thought that he might feel the same way, enough to put everything aside, makes your heart burn. You’re too immature.
With dreary limbs, after a few hours, stomach empty and begging for food, you unlock your room door, stopping just outside to see your brother sitting against the wall, mouth open, fast asleep.
Lachrymose at the sight, you plant yourself next to him and lean your head on his shoulder, which has him bolting upright, blinking a few times to take in his surroundings.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you whisper, clinging onto his arm.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” you admit, cheek rubbing against the soft material of his sweater.
“If you think about it,” he begins, rubbing his chin, “it’s not that big of a deal.”
You tilt your head to stare at your brother, “what?”
“You like Yoongi?”
You hesitate before deciding that it’s too late, Namjoon already saw you a second away from kissing Yoongi, “yeah.”
“Does he like you back? Because I have no idea.”
You sniffle, burying your face in your brother’s shoulder, speaking with a slight wobble, “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Hey, hey,” he hushes, bringing you into his arms, before sighing and resting his cheek on the top of your head, “you’ll always be my little sister.”
“But someday,” he adds, “you would need to grow up and find love somewhere. In someone. Anyone.”
“Where are you going with this?” You speak into his arm, cherishing his cuddly chest.
“What I’m trying to say is that…If you found love in your brother’s best friend. There’s nothing I can do about it except be the obstacle.”
“Wait,” you sit up, eyes shooting up to your hairline, “you’re saying that you’re okay with me and Yoongi?”
“I’m saying that you’re all grown up—”
“Have been for a while now.”
“—And,” he holds up a finger, silencing you, “you can make your own decisions. But I’m not saying that I won’t be there to guide you.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
He laughs, dimples making an appearance.
“No, seriously. What made you change this whole big bro persona?”
He glances at his hands, twiddling his thumbs, “I heard you…crying and I don’t want you to cry. I hate when you cry.”
Sliding against the wall, you hug your knees, “what’s the use? Yoongi thinks I’m immature.”
“He called you immature?! I’m gonna fucking—” Namjoon rises to his feet before you’re yanking him back down, patting his calf.
“It’s okay. He’s kind of right.”
“No, he’s not. He doesn’t know you at all if he thinks you’re immature,” he affirms, rubbing your arm, “you are one of the wisest women I know. Who do I come to first when I need advice? Who?”
“Me,” you answer, voice hushed.
“Whose judgement do I trust the most?”
“Mine.”
“You have fantastic insight that sometimes blows my mind, and your ability to discern someone’s character from just a short meeting amazes me.”
Blushing from your brother’s barrage of compliments, you trace your nail down the lines on your pants, smiling shyly.
“He doesn’t know you, just as you don’t know him. But as someone, who knows both of you well enough, I think you might…”
“We might?”
“Might be…”
He scratches behind his head, while you shake his arm for him to continue.
“Might be what?”
“Good for each other,” he says in one breath, rolling his eyes.
“Like I said. He doesn’t think that and if he’s given up, so have I…He also thinks I’m a kid. And it’d be wrong for us to date.”
Namjoon throws his head back in laughter, smacking his thigh.
“That guy behaves like a grandpa. Of course he’ll think you’re a kid.”
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After dithering about calling Jimin, you decided to do the opposite of what you would usually do after a small fight, and call him, chewing on your nail as you wait for him to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“You haven’t been answering my texts. Got kinda worried.” You hear his nervous laugh.
“It’s okay. I wanted to tell you that you were right about Yoongi,” you say defeatedly.
“What?”
You relay the entire situation with you almost kissing and Namjoon catching you, then how he ran out and chose his friendship over feelings, even though Namjoon said that he doesn’t mind. And how he called you immature.
“Do you think he said that just so you would stop following him?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh, exhausted after over-analyzing the situation.
“So, now that Namjoon knows. I can tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“That day at the beach, Namjoon cornered me. He kind of…put me on the spot.”
“What are you saying?”
“He said that he notices the way your mother eyes Yoongi and tries to get you to sit next to each other. Then he asked if there was something he needed to know because your mother wouldn’t tell him.”
“And what did you say?” Your eyes widen.
“That guy threatened me!”
“Oh my God Jimin…So that fucker knew all along!”
“Who knows? But hey, at least he’s cool with it, not what I expected.”
Just then, someone knocks on your room door, interrupting your conversation.
“We’ll finish this later, I think they’re home.”
“Okay.”
“And Jimin?”
“Yeah?”
“I hope you understand that I don’t have feelings for you.”
The line is silent for a while before he breathes out a small ‘yeah.’
You can’t help the short gasp that leaves your mouth when you see Yoongi standing on the other side of your door. Mouth drooping, a sullen look in his eyes.
“Hey. Can we talk?”
You pop your head out of your room to look down the hallway, “how did you get in?”
“I used the key Namjoon gave me for emergencies.”
“Oh,” your heart picks up the pace when your eyes meet, you step aside for him to enter, wondering what he could possibly want from you.
He sits on the edge of your bed, scanning your room, which you’re glad looks tidy after you had the sudden urge for a deep cleanse. You choose to sit at your desk, interlocking your fingers and placing them on your lap, waiting for him to speak but also admiring the way he fills out his black T-shirt, black tufts of hair reaching the collar.
“I wanted to talk about us,” he says finally, earning a bitter scoff from you.
“Us? There is no us. You’ve made it perfectly clear.”
He rises from the bed, stopping a few feet away from his desk to shove his hands into his jeans pockets, “don’t be like that.”
“Like what?” You bite, riding on the anger that resurfaced, “I’m too immature, right? Why waste your time having a conversation with me?”
He sighs, taking a step closer which has you standing up from your chair, arms folded, eyes locked on his.
“I didn’t mean that, but with the way you’re behaving now,” he trails off.
You come toe to toe with him, rancor in your voice, “then why come here? If you think I’m so immature? Just go be with people your own age,” you throw his own words back at him, ignoring the way your heart seems to split at the light chuckle he lets out, flawless skin illuminated by your lamp.
“Can you stop behaving like a fucking—”
“Like a fucking what? A child?”
You let your arms hang at your sides, head tilted up so you don’t break your gaze. He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, teeth piercing into his lower lip.
“Why don’t you run after your ex instead? I can assure you that you won’t get what you’re looking for here.”
Confusion paints his features, “what are you saying?”
You laugh, poking his chest, “that’s what you wanted right? Just to have fun, fuck around until you have to get back to your boring life after the holiday is over.”
“Where the fuck did you get that idea?”
“If it isn’t obvious.”
“Ria is engaged,” he chuckles, gripping your finger that prods into his chest.
You freeze, blinking a few times to process his words.
“Yes,” he smiles, “you think that I was trying to get back together with her?”
You say nothing, feeling blood rush to your face in embarrassment, but you can’t hide away with his hold on your hand.
“Wow,” he snorts, “so you were jealous? What about you and Jimin? Namjoon told me how he cheated on you. Didn’t think you would go back to him after how heartbroken you were.”
Your head snaps up, offended by his words.
“So, if Jimin and I get back together? You said it yourself and he changed.”
You see his Adam’s apple jump before he leans forward, speaking through gritted teeth.
“Why don’t you go back to him then?”
“Fine,” you breathe, matching his ruthless stare, “I will!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
He spins around and leaps out of your room, slamming your door shut which has you jumping at the force.
After a few seconds, you take in what just happened, sitting down on your bed to calm your breathing. You feel like you’re about to combust, as if you swallowed a rock and it’s now lodged in your throat, refusing to let air fill your lungs, blood turning to poison.
Suddenly, your door is yanked open, eyes going wide when Yoongi steps in and locks the door, lunging toward you and taking your face in his hands, not giving you time to breathe before he’s crashing his lips on yours.
Startled, heart thumping erratically, you place your hands on his back, parting your lips when his tongue slides across your mouth, transferring heat with each caress of his soft petals over yours, eliciting a tumble of emotions which strike through your heart, bursting for him.
His kisses are urgent, tasting like cigarettes, trickling down your neck until you lose balance and fall onto the bed with a yelp, panting with his tantalizing weight which glues you to the mattress, moaning softly when his teeth catch on your earlobe, sliding down to pull your sensitive skin between his lips.
His hands are ravenous, travelling down the slope of your breasts to then slip between your thighs under your dress.
“Yoongi,” you pant, fingers weaving into his hair, “Yoongi.”
He kisses up your chin to pause on your mouth, eyes cracking open. His pupils are blown out and it almost takes your breath away with how dark they appear, boring into the depths of your soul.
“I…” You glance down, to where his hand is still lodged between your thighs.
“Oh,” he husks, about to remove his hand before you clench your thighs around it, trapping it there.
His gaze returns to yours, slight crease forming between his brows.
You bring your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over his glazed bottom lip.
“I haven’t done this before.”
Another emotion seems to overtake him, he smiles at you tenderly, fingers smoothing the meat of your thighs.
“I can tell that you,” his eyes flicker to your legs, “don’t want me to stop?”
You shake your head, fingers wrapping around his neck to hide in his chest, feeling bashful.
“It’s okay,” he soothes, pecking your forehead.
He hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him, “tell me something.”
“Hm?”
“Have you been eaten out before?”
You almost shiver at the question. Almost. But his pacifying hands keep you relaxed, along with his warm gaze, shrouded with something else. Something that causes heat to collect between your legs, a few inches away from where his other hand sticks.
“No…”
He chews on the corner of his mouth, eyes laced with wonder and excitement.
“Okay,” he replies with a kiss to your cheek, mouth trailing down your neck to peer up at you from between your collarbones, “can I take off your dress?”
You open your mouth to answer before he’s kneeling between your legs and pulling his shirt over his head. Even your imagination couldn’t conjure up the mouth-watering sight of Yoongi’s broad chest with dusty pink nipples, drooling at the light hair under his arms and collected above the band of his Calvin Klein underwear.
“If that makes you more comfortable,” he mumbles, before you’re grinning at him, an overly innocent tone in your voice.
“But you’ll be seeing my legs too.”
He chuckles, combing his hair back then undoing the button of his jeans and pulling down the zipper, not before cocking an eyebrow and shooting you a mischievous smile.
Hands twitching at your sides, you think you might be dreaming. To test that theory, you let your fingers trail up his abdomen, pausing between his pecs when he trembles and holds your hand to his chest, reminding you of earlier, when you were in each other’s faces with anger.
He takes your hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing each knuckle. When he pulls down his pants, you try not to stare at his bulge, breath quickening with the prospect of having him inside you.
Before he tosses his pants across your room, he pulls out a condom and sets it on your nightstand.
“For later,” he promises, rolling up your dress and helping you out of it, “if you want.”
You throw your arms around his neck, pressing your heated skin to his, kissing him fervently.
“I want to. I want everything with you Yoongi.”
His lips curl into the gummy smile that filled your dreams for years, now so close and warm, pressed to your own grin.
“I want that too,” he murmurs, kissing between the valley of your breasts.
A soft whimper bubbles from your lips when he pulls the cups of your bra under your breasts and twists your nipples between his fingers, palm kneading the flesh.
Your eyes fly shut when he snaps the band of your panties against your skin, not wanting to see his face when you’re fully exposed to him for the first time.
“Can we- can we go under the covers?” You ask, eyes still closed.
He whispers your name, “look at me.”
You peel your eyes open, looking at the cute mole on his nose instead of his eyes.
“Don’t be shy,” he grins, kissing your inner thigh which causes you to shiver. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you like this.
“That doesn’t help,” you pout.
He hovers over you and pinches your cheek, bare breasts pressed to his chest.
“I think you’re beautiful,” he confesses, sincerity pouring from his voice, “and I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he moves down the length of your body and settles between your thighs once again, fingers returning to their assault on your nipples, “watch me.”
He slowly pulls down your panties, while your pussy clenches uncontrollably, fisting the sheets once the material joins your dress on the floor.
With a palm on your thigh, he opens your legs and lets his gaze wander between them, breath brushing your swollen folds until your hips lift off the bed involuntarily, skin erupting in a wave of goosebumps when he blows on your swollen clit.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he growls, fingers parting your folds for him to dive into, tongue setting a torturous pace.
“Ah Yoongi,” you moan, head pressing into the sheets as you feel his hot mouth close around your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth.
His tongue darts out against your clit and your back arches, fingers threading in his hair as you get lost in the pleasure, grinding into his face when he starts to lap up your juices, humming into your throbbing pussy.
“Fuck,” you moan, hips jerking when you feel his middle finger slide up your sopping cunt, eyes prickling with tears from how good his tongue feels, slowly building up the heat with each stroke of his tongue around your clit.
Your mouth hangs open, head lolling to the side when he sinks a finger into you, jerking when he pulls his digit out then pushes back in, massaging your walls.
“So tight,” he grunts into your pussy, lips pursing around your clit as he wiggles his face into your pussy, chin and cheeks being drenched with your juices.
Your mind is filled with nothing but the need for release, knees sliding up the bed to expose more of yourself to him, hips working faster, pushing him further into your throbbing pussy.
His left hand creeps up your stomach, fingers splayed across your abdomen to hold you down just as he adds his ring finger, a choked moan breaking from your chest.
Your fingers are nothing compared to his thick digits scissoring you open, reaching deep inside your ridged walls until he finds that sweet spot. You cry out, pussy quivering around his fingers, clit pulsating, indicating that you’re so close to the edge.
He doubles his efforts, tongue flicking out erratically, fingers hooking inside you until tears slip from the corners of your eyes with the intensity of your orgasm, cumming on his tongue with pleasurable jolts up your spine. You spasm under his hold, drooling onto your sheets when he withdraws his fingers.
Your eyes slide open just in time to see him slip his fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste.
“I could eat you out all day,” he groans, thumb and forefinger tweaking your nipple while the other gets covered by his pout, skilled tongue curling around the perked bud.
Your hands slide down his back, pulling him up until your mouth latches onto his, tasting your essence on his tongue.
“I want you,” you sigh, reaching down to cover his rock-hard cock with your palm, lust clouding your mind until it surges down to sit between your thighs once again.
He leans into your touch, throwing his head back when you slip your hand into his underwear and stroke his girthy cock, wondering how this length will fit inside of you.
Your eyes scrunch shut when he presses his thigh into your pussy, hand flying to your hip when you start to spread your slick all over the toned muscle, panting in his ear.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy. Want me to stuff your tiny pussy with my cock?”
He flexes his thigh, cock twitching in your palm.
“Yes,” you mewl, the only thought being Yoongi and his muscular body rubbing against yours.
He sits up and kicks off his boxers, reaching for the condom. Your thoughts are hazy, hand still working up and down his pretty length with his knee rubbing against your core, precum dripping down your fist until he swats your hands away.
As if you’re some rag doll, he drags you up the bed so your head rests on your pillow, reaching for another to place under your ass.
“This might hurt at first,” he informs, lining himself up with your entrance. You brace yourself, only now noticing how veiny his cock is as he rolls down the condom, pussy clenching when you think about each vein rubbing against your ridges, dragging you to your second high under Yoongi’s attention.
“But you’re nice and wet for me,” he winks, tapping your clit with the head of his cock, reaching for your hand.
Your lips curl into a small smile, trying to psych yourself up with even breaths through your nose, appreciating the way Yoongi intertwines your fingers and keeps his lips on your ear.
With a snap of his hips, he drives into you a few inches. Your nails dig into his back, biting down on his shoulder once he’s fully sheathed by your walls, pinching slightly.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” voice strained, muffled by his shoulder, you tell him that he can move, breath being drawn out of your lungs similar to the way his cock leaves your pussy, pausing for a second before sinking back in.
You hold onto his back for dear life, kissing and nibbling his supple skin once he starts to flex his hips at a steady pace, groaning into your ear.
“Fuck you feel so fucking good.”
“So fucking tight.”
“Always knew you would feel this good.”
“Shit I love you.”
Breath catching in your throat, you ignore his words because you know that some things are said in the heat of the moment, focusing on the way his cock lodges deep inside your pussy, grazing your sweet spot with the pain morphing into pleasure, teeth puncturing his skin until his thrusts become shallow and you’re trembling under him, moans heightening in pitch.
So close.
A call of your name causes Yoongi to halt mid-thrust, meeting your gaze with panic.
Namjoon knocks on your door, “you in there?”
Yoongi buries his head in the crook of your neck, sweaty forehead meeting your chin as he laughs.
“Y-Yeah,” you call out, smacking Yoongi’s shoulder when he laughs again, “I’m busy…cleaning my drawers.”
Both you and Yoongi wait for his answer but you’re unable to ignore the way his cock twitches inside you when you smile at him apologetically, still holding him close.
“Okay, we’re gonna have dinner soon and I got you those peach gummies.”
“Thanks!”
The sound of receding footsteps makes you breath a sigh of relief and Yoongi wastes no time to drill his cock into your quivering pussy, placing his hand over your mouth when a moan slips into the balmy air.
“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking tight,” he whispers, “you gonna cum for me?”
You nod frantically, feeling a bit light-headed with his palm slotted on your mouth until the knot twists and twists and you bloom beneath him, convulsing with him stilling his hips and emptying into the condom, your name being spoken against the back of his hand along with the phrase you heard earlier.
“Fuck, love you,” he grunts, rolling over, chest heaving as he throws his arm over his eyes.
Swallowing down the questions, you scoot closer to him and place your cheek on his soaked chest, closing your eyes and etching the sound of his labored breaths into your memory.
“Wait,” he pats your back and gets off the bed to tie the condom and throw it into your bin under your desk.
You slip under the blanket, wanting to conceal your body despite being naked and exposed for him a few minutes ago.
The slight fear that he might put his clothes on and leave enters your mind when you hear shuffling, but soon, the cool air hits your back when he lifts the blanket and settles in behind you, lips touching the shell of your ear.
“We should go have dinner,” you say, fingers skimming the hair on his arm when he pulls you into him, sighing contentedly.
“In a bit,” he mumbles groggily, “let’s stay like this for a while.”
‘I love you.’ That’s what you heard him say and with you acknowledging that you’ve fallen for him, that you just had your first time with him, you’re unable to ignore it for a moment longer.
You spin around in his hold, shaking his shoulder lightly after you trace his cupid’s bow with your pinky finger.
“Hm?”
“Do you remember what you said?”
“What?” He grumbles, eyes still closed, pulling you impossibly close to him.
You gulp, “I love you.”
His eyes open and you want to slip under the sheets. You obviously didn’t think that this could go sour.
But he shocks you, gaze somewhere behind your head as he says, “yes.”
“Really? Why?”
He laughs, “why do I love you?”
“Yeah,” you try to smile, the slight twitch of your mouth revealing how nervous you are.
“Because you’re you.”
“What?”
“You’re sweet, and intelligent, and you’re always so supportive of Namjoon. Maybe it was love at first sight, who knows. But I hid my feelings for so long because you were still so young and I…didn’t know what you would think.”
“Yoongi…”
“And maybe it’s because you possess the traits I find desirable in a partner, but I think that I can be good to you. After I told Namjoon, he said that too which is ironic.”
“Yoongi,” you smile, noticing the distant look in his eyes.
“And maybe I thought you might find me weird since I’m your brother’s best friend. Like I’m some kind of pervert. But you know, you didn’t make it easy for me!”
You cup his cheeks, shaking his head lightly, “Yoongi!”
“Yes?!”
“I love you too!”
He makes a small noise of surprise before you’re burying your face in his chest and giving him one of the tightest hugs you can manage, rubbing your cheek into his skin. He hugs you even tighter, almost draining the blood from you with how hard he’s pressing you into him.
“I love you too.”
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a/n: please don’t feel shy to send in feedback, hearing your thoughts serve as motivation :)
talk to my characters
⤺Masterlist
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taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon @nglmrk @bex-92br @taeslarityy @helenazbmrskai @deliciouslydisturbed365 @sweetonkookieandtae
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yoongsisbae · 6 months ago
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Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 1
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You needed money. The pandemic offered little options. So you joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? It was a decision you didn’t think too much about, you just wanted an income again. Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. You weren’t prepared for the consequences of your actions. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down...
I’m still writing HOAL!!! I just want to make sure there are no plot holes, so it’s slow work. Enjoy this in the meantime, it’s a bit darker, I mean a lot darker.
OT7 BTS AU. Yandere!BTS x reader. Yoongi x reader this chapter, eventual OT7 x reader
Warnings: 18+ dark themes, voyeur, mention of revenge porn, gaslighting, Yoongi is a meanie.
Word Count: 3.5k
---
“Hello, how can I help you?” You look up from your register after reciting the cheerful rehearsed greeting and you meet a pair of dark sharp eyes. Your fake smile falls as you’re taken aback by the man’s appearance. He’s fine as hell. Plump lips, sharp jawline, perfectly styled hair and in a sleek suit, the man looks like he walked straight out of a magazine.
The mysterious man before you studies your features and you’re acutely aware of your state of dress. You didn’t bother to do your hair today, forgoing your usual makeup routine for something quick and light. You had rushed out the door this morning afraid of being late again.
The morning rush was hectic, and you haven’t checked how you looked. As a cashier you didn’t even get the luxury of hiding behind a mask. Why did your company choose to go with these humid plastic mouth coverings anyways? Something about needing to show your customers a friendly smile...dumb. There’s no doubt in your mind you look like a mess and you curse your luck.
You wait for his order, but the good looking stranger just watches you, eyeing you up and down. His demeanor catches you off guard again, anxiety rising inside you at the way he stares at you so openly, brazenly, like a predator eyeing down his next meal. You can feel the heat rise in your face at the awkward silence. You repeat your question to the man. Instead of answering you he holds your gaze and says, “I’ve seen you before.”
He says the statement with such confidence it takes you a second to respond, questioning your own thoughts. “I’m sorry? I-I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
“I didn’t say we’ve met. I said I’ve seen you before.”
His sharp retort makes you flinch. It’s unnerving the way his eyes study you. It makes you feel naked and vulnerable in front of him. His eyes glance down at your nametag and you shift uncomfortably, your arms hugging your body reflexively.
“I, um, think you have the wrong person. I’ve never seen you.” He’s dressed in a designer suit, a large gold watch on his wrist, he screams expensive from head to toe. He’s not the type of person you’d run into, and you're sure you'd remember doing so.
“You wouldn’t have, would you?”
The tension is getting painful. Your nerves are too high, his stare is too much, he’s not making any sense, and you don’t get paid enough to deal with strange customers. You look over to your coworkers busy helping their own customers, and you want to call for help but the words stay stuck in your throat.
With your neck exposed to him, the man leans over the counter and whispers in your ear, “Sweet Dahlia.” Your eyes widen at the nickname. No one would know that name, an alias you chose for yourself at a whim, except for...
Your blood runs cold. There’s no way this is happening right now, no fucking way. You hold your breath as your heart pounds wildly in your chest. ‘Just pretend he has no idea what he’s talking about.’
You try to reign in your emotions before he notices, “I don’t know who that is, sorry. What would you like to order?” But unfortunately for you, he has already seen the shock in your eyes, heard the tiniest gasp at his words, noticed the goosebumps on your skin from his attention. He feels triumphant in his discovery of you, delighting in the way you freeze under his gaze. It’s cute, he thinks, how you think you can fool him. So naive.
Min Yoongi just so happened to be in town for a meeting, just so happened to miss breakfast, just so happened to walk into your place of business. It was by mere chance he collided into your life and left you reeling. It was however, not by luck he recognized you. How could he ever forget your eyes? How many times had he paid you to keep them open while pleasuring yourself? Your image was burned into his memory, down to the shape of your lips. He had so often fantasized of the curves of your mouth around him. He had watched you so often, fixated on your avatar, you would have never been able to hide your identity from him.
You look down to your register and swallow down the fear reeling inside of you. The name he called you feels like a slap to your face. It’s something you’ve tried hard to forget, ashamed at what you’ve done, how you got off on strangers’ praises. His praises, you realize. Your skin burns hot, your nerve endings are prickling from panic.
Displeased you’re ignoring him, Yoongi grabs your chin with his fingers, making you look at him again. The way he smirks down at you, reveling in knowing your darkest and most intimate secret, makes you realize just how fucked you are.
“You have the wrong person.” You try to match his harshness. Giving your best performance, you look at him like he’s crazy, completely insane. You raise your eyebrow and frown back at him.
‘This will work,’ you think, please let him leave you alone. You yank your head away sharply and step backward, putting some distance between you and him, but the man steps forward and grabs your arm. His nails dig into your skin painfully as he pulls you forward. You yelp in surprise and struggle against his hold, but his grip is too strong. It makes you shudder, knowing how easily he could keep you to him if he wanted.
“I just want to talk to you, can we do that?” His voice sounds soft, almost calming, but the demanding look in his eyes scares you. You keep attempting to pull away from him, but he has no intention of letting you go now, matching each jerk of your body with a pull of his own.
By now your coworkers notice what’s happening. Your manager makes a beeline to you.
“What’s the matter? Sir, what do you think you’re doing?!” You're thankful for your manager as your captor becomes distracted and loosens his hold on you ever so slightly. You take the opportunity to yank yourself away and escape into the back. The stranger, seemingly uncaring of any repercussions, runs behind the counter after you. Your manager is running behind him telling him he can’t do that, as if that will stop Yoongi.
You feel two strong hands grab your shoulders wheeling you around to face your reality. Tears threaten to escape in your hopelessness. This can’t be happening. You thought you were so careful, you wore a mask or you would always hide half your face on camera. You kept the small section where you filmed devoid of anything special or recognizable. You used a proxy. Where was your mistake? You must have made one.
You only ever accepted one invitation to The House before you quit, waiting until The House was in your area. You hadn’t even driven your own car, opting to be dropped off and picked up somewhere close to your apartment instead. In your own paranoia you thought you had taken every precaution imaginable. How could this be happening? What kind of horrible luck did you have that a viewer would walk into your job and recognize you. And you, too shocked to put up a better act, how could you be so dumb? You want to scream.
“Please, you have the wrong person,” you whisper, begging to the stranger, shaking in his grasp.
“You shouldn’t lie to me,” Yoongi whispers lowly. He looks over to your manager, who has been yelling at him to let you go this entire time.
“Leave before I call the police!” Yoongi offers him a curt smile, turning to leave. The only problem is he still has a death grip on one of your arms. You yelp as he pulls you along. Your manager, bless him, grabs onto your other arm.
You felt like the rope caught in the clutches between two dogs as they tug on you for dominance. Finally, Yoongi relents. Now that he knows where you are it doesn’t matter. Yoongi turns to you, ignoring your irate manager, “We’ll talk later.”
You and your manager watch wide eyed as the stranger saunters out like he hadn’t just made a huge scene in the middle of your job.
---
Your body still shakes while your manager questions you, “Do you know him? Is he an ex? What’s going on?” You bite your lip, debating on how much information you should divulge that will get him to feel sorry enough for you without firing you.
“So um, during the lockdown...when our hours were cut...I, um, tried to find other jobs to make money. I was about to get evicted and I-I needed a lot of money quickly,” You look down at your feet, embarrassed. “I joined this...club...people paid me...to do things.” You stop to gauge your manager’s reaction. His eyes are full of concern, but he bites his tongue. “I-I can’t really talk about it, I had to sign a bunch of NDAs.”
“So you know him?”
“No, I never really met any of them. I-I’m sorry, I can’t talk about this, no one can know.”
“So it was...a sex thing?”
You sigh, you meet his eyes to try to convey your thoughts, “I can’t say. If anyone found out anything I would be sued to oblivion, I wouldn’t be able to even cover the legal fees.” Your breath hitches as you choke down a sob at the thought of the crushing debt something like that would cause you.
“Do I need to call the police? What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t think the police are going to be any help with him. I-It's fine, hopefully he'll just go away.” You sneak a look to the sidewalk in front of your job, where the man currently stands unbothered. What should you do? You already know this man is not someone who plays by the rules, he looks wealthy enough to buy his own kind of justice. How are you supposed to work like this? You felt like a wounded animal being circled by a vulture. Trapped.
You manager lets you work in the back the rest of your shift. Without any distraction, your eyes continue to wander to the very person you should be hiding from. You figured the men behind your computer screen were disgusting creeps whose only way to find sexual gratification was to pay for it. This man could play the leading role of a Hollywood film. Why the hell did he ever pay to watch you? You see the way women oogle him as they pass, tripping over their own feet just being in his presence. He could probably get them to do whatever he wanted with just a couple of sweet words instead, you think, if he wanted to he could make them get on their knees right there, make them choke on his cock until they cry. You shut your eyes. Turning your body around, you try to ignore the jittery feeling dancing in the pit of your stomach, thankful no one can hear your thoughts.
---
The rest of the day goes smoothly. You continued to ignore the mysterious man on the sidewalk and eventually, when you dared to search him out again he was no longer there. When your shift ends, you step outside searching the streets just in case. While walking to your car, you devise a long meandering route home full of turns in hopes no one follows you. He wouldn’t do that, right?
You are quickly pulled out of your thoughts by a hand on your shoulder. It makes you jump, screaming.
“I’m sorry!” Yoongi puts his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, can we please talk now?” Holy fuck, where did he come from? And how are you not dead from a heart attack?
Your eyes dart around, looking for options. Yoongi notices your hesitation, “As fun as it would be to chase you down, please don’t do that. I just want to talk, I promise.” How can he be so nonchalantly threatening? Who is this man?
“Okay, okay...just...let's sit there.” You point to a bench in front of your job, and he nods. The stranger walks silently next to you. He stands so close he bumps into your shoulder again and again. You probably look like a couple, you think, to an outsider he probably looks like a boyfriend picking you up from work. You chew on your bottom lip imagining different scenarios where this man could possibly be into you, reasons that don’t include you getting undressed for money.
“Why did you stop?” His question pulls you from your thoughts and back to your sad reality. You sigh, do you even owe him an answer? Yoongi puts a finger under your chin, moving your head to look at him. The gesture is softer than what he had done to you before. “Dahlia?” You wince and pull away from him.
"Don't call me that."
"Y/n..."
You don't know whether it's worse, hearing your name leave his lips.
“I got my job back, so I didn’t need to do that anymore.”
Yoongi hums, “So it’s money.” The thought relieves him, he thought it was because of that night. “How much do you make here?” He gestures behind him.
You bite your lip. There is no comparison in the obscene amounts of money you made there compared to this slightly above minimum wage job. In a couple of months you had managed to pay off years of credit card bills. And the best part? It was untraceable money. Money your clients didn’t want to lead back to them. Non-taxable. “Presents,” “gifts,” monetary offerings placed at your feet as your faceless followers worshiped the temple of your body. And it was easy, it was fun, it was fucking hot, but at what cost?
When you had gone to The House, a live show held in an elusive estate where your assets could be viewed more closely, your body on display as powerful men commanded you behind dark glass, you didn’t know what you expected, but what you got changed you forever. The way you performed for them, the way you liked it, and then...what happened...So you took your shitty job back, with sweet regulars and coworkers who treated you like a person, not a thing to be devoured. Working a long shift here didn’t make you feel like you were going to hell. Working a 9 to 5, living a quiet life, seeing your friends on the weekends, it meant you could pretend you were normal and nothing happened so you didn’t have to face the depths of your depravity.
“You know I never meant for it to go for as long as it did. Yes, I needed the money. But I don’t need it anymore, so I don’t know what you expect from me, Mr..?”
The man licks his lips before he speaks, “Min. Min Yoongi”
“Mr. Min Yoongi. I don’t know what you expect, but that’s not who I am anymore.”
“Is that so? Why take that particular job? You could have made money in other ways. Unless you liked it?”
Your face feels hot with embarrassment, you remember the night you scoured the internet for any job listings, on a whim you looked up popular cam girl sites. You didn’t even think it would go anywhere, only half serious in your search.
But you had found one website, hidden deep in cyberspace. An innocuous name, House of Cards dot com. You had set up an account that night, went under the name Dahlia, inspired by the vase of plastic flowers on your kitchen table.
You were inexperienced, confessed on your first broadcast just that, and you watched as the views shot up. You were unprepared for the attention, the money. A thousand dollars to spread your legs and show your underwear. It was exciting. You’ve never gotten so much attention before, from anyone, ever. You did like it. Not that you would admit it to this stranger.
“How about this, take a job with me, whatever you’re making I’ll pay double.”
Double? Stay calm y/n. “A job doing what?” You try to sound disinterested.
He gives you a devilish smile. “To be in my company.”
“I…” you watch as he scribbles numbers in his checkbook. He tears a page and hands it to you.
“Think of it as an advance. Buy clothes with it.”
You curse your trembling fingers. “What is this, a year’s advance?” Yoongi cocks his head to the side, “No, that’s a month.” You almost forget to breathe at his words. Yoongi laughs at you, “Just how much are you getting paid?”
You bite your lip so hard you taste copper. You don’t know whether to feel embarrassed or angry at the way he looks down at you and mocks you. You choose the latter, letting the check crumple in your tightened fist.
“You think you can buy me? You think because you have money you can get anything you want, right? Well...there is no way I would ever work for you, you smug arrogant prick, so keep your money!” You bite back, throwing the check in his face.
Your defiance only serves to make Yoongi more delighted. “What makes you think you can go back to work, Dahlia?" You hate the way he calls you by your alias with such venom.
"What would your coworkers think if they saw what a dirty girl you’ve been, huh? What do you think, would your manager appreciate the video with the pink vibrator or is he into more kinkier shit? You’ve been so fucking nasty I don’t think I could choose just one, I might just have to send them all.” Your nails dig into your thighs at his harsh words. He sits quietly and waits for your reaction. You want to punch him in his smug face.
“So you’re going to blackmail me, is that it?”
“Want me to write you another check? I don't think the bank will take this one anymore.”
You shudder, you rack your mind thinking of anything you can do to outsmart this man. “The terms on the website said-” Yoongi laughs in your face again.
“I know the terms. I was there when our lawyers drafted them, baby girl.”
What?! What the fuck. Is he some sick perverse webmaster? At least it would explain why he acts the way he does.
“So technically,” Yoongi muses, “I never signed any terms. But you did, didn’t you? So you better not tell anyone of this or me, for your safety of course.” He says his threat so sweetly to you it makes your head spin. You’ve come to the realization that this man is the devil and you signed your life away.
“So I have no other choice...”
“I would never dream of making you do something you don’t want to do. You do want this, don’t you? To be taken care of, doted on like you deserve. That’s all I want to give you." He hands you a new check, his large hands cover yours so tenderly it leaves you at a loss for words. "How about this, you accompany me to a party this weekend, let me show you what you’re missing.” If Yoongi can take you to just one event, just once, he’s sure he can convince you. Yoongi can already see the jealous looks on his friends’ faces once he brings you on his arm. He can’t wait to rub it in their faces.
“And if I go with you, and decide that’s it, you’ll let me leave?”
“Of course, my sweet flower.” Yoongi is a patient man. He is a resourceful man. He knows how to twist the odds in his favor. He knows this second chance he gets with you means something. He won’t let you slip away again so easily, and he’ll show you how fated you are for him, how perfectly you’ll fit in his arms, how you belong with him. You’ll see, he’ll make you see, and he can’t wait to make you his again, truly his.
---
Yeah this has been a recurring dream bothering the fuck out of me, so I thought why not make it into a story and hopefully I’ll stop thinking about it and can focus again. I promise you I’m also working on some fun stories, eventually they will see the light of day too heh. Tell me what you think! <3
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moon-write · a month ago
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kiss me already, grumpy boy.
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summary:  after a stressful day, you and yoongi seek out different ways to de-stress and enjoy what time you have left of the day. pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff rating: pg word count: 1.6k tags/warnings: pet emergency but nothing serious, kisses, yoongi and oc share a shower (very sfw), a bunch of fluffiness
a/n: for anon, i am a puddle much like the ones outside of my house right now. your request lined up perfectly because it is raining here today. so i was in all my cozy feels as i wrote this. i hope you like this~ thank you for requesting!
the request
october drabble event mlist
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“If only the rain would let up,” Yoongi’s hands twist around the steering wheel, stirring in his seat as the rain pelted against the car windshield, “we could actually relax a little.”
You peer out the window up at the gray sky, imagining what the clouds looked like from up there. It wasn’t heavy rain but steady enough to put Yoongi on edge. He never liked to be in the rain, much less get wet unless there was a purpose like showering.
Smiling to yourself you reach over and rub his shoulder, giving him a few squeezes, “almost home, let’s just forget about today,” you sigh, immediately feeling the stiff muscles in your neck, “it’s done, we survived it.”
Yoongi just grumbles in response and you figure pouting about it may just be what he needs for now. Both you and Yoongi had a day off which were rare, and you spent it together but not in the way either of you hoped to spend the time alone which was at home, out of the rain. Although you hoped at some point Yoongi would have wanted to go for a walk around the block-all the more reason to snuggle into your boyfriend’s side while he held an umbrella for the two of you.
But your sweet pup decided he wanted mom and dad’s attention by munching on some chocolate you left on the coffee table, you were distracted by a phone call. By the time Yoongi walked in, your dog had eaten almost the entire bar so there the two of you went, whisking your dog off to the emergency vet.
It was a relief that the amount your dog ate wasn’t enough to fatally harm him, but they wanted to monitor him before sending him back home. So you and Yoongi waited in the stuffy waiting room, most of your worries dissipated knowing your dog would be fine but being in a veterinary hospital always left you restless. Yoongi tried to distract you, rubbing your knee with your head resting on his shoulder, reading random facts to you from a veterinary magazine he was thumbing through.
After a couple of hours, your dog was set free and although a bit exhausted from the entire thing, he greeted you and Yoongi with a wagging tail and generous licks to the face. It was early afternoon by then, the day wasn’t totally lost. That was until you hit traffic on the highway due to a bad car accident caused by the rain. The backup made your hour trip back home a three-hour one.
You could sense the tension in your boyfriend, someone who carried weight when he knew others were in distress though he never voiced it. And you knew just as much as you were, if not more, any ordeal with your dog had Yoongi’s nerves in a bundle.
“I can make you some tea?” You try to speak as lowly as possible, resting your hand behind his neck to rub him there, “maybe draw you a hot bath?”
Yoongi’s eyes darted between the road and the rearview mirror where he was checking up on your dog. He was fast asleep in the back which his doctor informed would be normal given the medicine he was on.
You turn to look at your dog briefly before settling on Yoongi, “he’s okay honey, he’ll just be tired for the day, maybe tomorrow. Nothing that some rest won’t help.”
He just nodded, a minute amount of relief appearing on his face as he pulled into the driveway.
Yoongi is quick to get out, telling you to wait in the car while he brought the dog in, then he would come out with an umbrella for you. In your rush this morning, neither of you bothered to remember one.
So you do as he said, resting your head back on the headrest, a sigh dripping out of you. Your eyes scan the last traces of daylight, a stormy sky and rainfall reflecting in your eyes.
The rain was mesmerizing to you, you loved the sound of it. And sure, being inside, cuddled with Yoongi beneath a blanket sounded far more appealing on a day like this, but you couldn’t help but feel that childlike flame flicker inside of you.
Without a second thought, you step out onto the driveway, the shock of the cool droplets causing the hair on the back of your neck to rise. But soon follows is a breathy chuckle escaping you, you open your palms allowing the raindrops to collect in your hands. Your neighbors were surely getting a show as you stood in the driveway, face aimed toward the sky and a smile spread wide across your lips.
“What-why are you doing this-” Yoongi sounds surprised at first when you hear him call your name from the door, opening the umbrella, “it’s cold, you’ll get sick-seriously you’re something else-” he’s grumbling again but it only makes you laugh.
“It feels good,” you say back to him, every muscle in your body giving way to the rain, free from the stresses of the day, “you should join me!” You look to find him shielded beneath the open umbrella, free hand stuffed in his pocket because he always did get cold easily, shaking his head.
“I’ll be in in a minute then,” you wink at him, turning in an imperfect circle, “just give me a minute-” Yoongi hears the way your voice tapers off, the eased expression on your face allowing him to smile for the first time that day.
You dance across his vision making his frown slowly disappear, dark eyes turning with some light while he just watches you stand in the rain; “you really are something else,” he mutters to himself, a soft snort following. He decides to wait for you underneath the umbrella, enjoying you.
A couple of times you tease him like you’re going to pull him with you, but he uses the umbrella to defend himself, leaving you gasping for air every time he threatens you with it. There’s a moment where he lets you hold his hand, forcing him to spin you around before you’re planting a wet kiss on his cheek. The curse that comes out of him only makes you think how cute he is.
It’s only a few minutes after the first rumbling sound of thunder echoes through the sky. Yoongi can’t help but laugh when you jump, your once closed eyes open wide as you make a run for the door, bypassing Yoongi in a flash.
His breathy laugh follows you in, shutting the door behind you where once again he tells you to wait so he can bring you a towel. Your dog trudges over but upon seeing a soaking you, he just tips his head out of curiosity before settling in his favorite spot in the living room.
You beam when you see Yoongi approach you, holding your hands out to take the towel only for him to plop it over your head, his hands rubbing the rain out of your hair first.
“Undress here, I’ll put your clothes in the washer, I have the shower running,” he says, pulling the towel away to reveal your messy head to him. He sees the playfulness in your eyes, laughing before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
Yoongi helps you out of your clothes, quickly wrapping you in the towel. He blushes at the sight of you running off to the bathroom, tapping your bottom with a soft hand before you get too far.
Yoongi joins you a minute later, his own stress seeping away beneath the massaging flow of the hot water. Your once stressful day disappears from both your minds as you enjoy the moments alone. After dressing in one of his hoodies and sweatpants, you meet him in the kitchen where he is starting dinner.
“We should just order in, babe,” you say, running your fingers through his wet hair, “take a break from cooking tonight.”
He drops a few ingredients into the water that is just starting to simmer over the flame before he turns to wrap you up in a hug, leaning down and pressing a kiss on your forehead, “I enjoy cooking for you,” he says, kissing your cheek and then your lips.
You lean your head back, almost going limp in his arms which makes him laugh, rolling his eyes at you, “ever thought that maybe you are the cause of my stress?”
You gasp, standing upright while his hands fall around your hips, a pleased smile on his face; “rude!” You nudge him.
His shoulders start to shake, tightening his grip around you when you start to fight him off, pushing your hands against his stomach, “yah,” he exhales, holding you still, “you had your moment out in the rain let me have mine.”
Like putty, you melt at his shows of affection and after a few stubborn seconds, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, “you have me, Min.” His eyes find yours, so tender in the way he admires you, a barely-there smirk tipping up at the corner of his lips before he kisses you.
Behind him you hear the water start to bubble; “I think your water is-”
He shakes his head before you can finish, turning around to lower the flame, his attention back on you, he kisses you again, “let’s just stay like this,” he mutters into another kiss, “for a little bit longer?”
Cheeks rushed with heat as you stare up at him, you know he can see the absolute look of love on your face.
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lolabangtan · a month ago
Text
eden’s sleep | myg
When you woke up, he was sitting next to you, smiling fondly. A stranger in disguise, now cold as ice. You hate that you can’t remember him, but you hate even more that you can’t remember what you used to mean to him.
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Word count: 12k
Warnings: smut, mentions of death, body issues, spirituality.
# soulmates AU, deity AU, household deity!Yoongi, amnesia, hurt/comfort, slow burn, sub!yoongi, slight degradation, hand job, edging, nipple play, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (female receiving), cum eating.
Read Eden’s sleep while listening to its own Spotify playlist
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You feel heavy, burning, writhing on top of something you’ve never touched before. There’s something covering you, caging you like a bird, and it’s soft, but also unknown and so scary. Soft flesh choking your throat, all the colours of the world blinding you— what is this thing sneaking into you that is so strange and yet so relieving to feel inside?
But then you feel it, the soothing sensation tangling with what feels like an extension of your being; the beast ripping you open calms down, and you finally take a hold on the flesh around you.
“Hey.” A man is sitting next to you, smiling fondly. You look down and notice he’s holding a hand – a hand that belongs to you. “You finally woke up. How are you feeling?”
Your voice comes out painfully dry. “What?”
Does he know you? Do you know him? – you don’t even know yourself. You can’t bring yourself to remember anything, just trying it is terribly painful and makes something inside of you creep down into your soul.
“What?” you repeat with a frown. The light coming from the windows is too much for your eyes.
“It’s me, Yoongi. Don’t you—?”
He shuts up as soon as he sees the tears running down your cheeks. Concerned, the man leans over you and tries to wipe them away. His touch is soothing, but a part of your brain tells you to push him away, and so you do, with a swipe of your hand. Not only his face overall, especially his eyes turn colder as they stare at you in search of… something.
“Where…?” you manage to murmur. The vibrations coming from your throat tickle, it makes you shiver. “Where am I?”
But he’s too engrossed in your eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here…”
“Tell me—” Your hand cups his over your cheek. “Answer me, where am I? What’s— what’s going on? Yoongi?”
“Yes?” he asks hopefully.
“You said your name is Yoongi. Who are you, Yoongi? What is this place? Why do I feel— constricted?”
“You don’t— you don’t know me?” Yoongi asks then, and his face drops again.
You don’t. You don’t remember anything, actually; weirdly enough, your mind is completely blank, even if you can talk, or move a bit, or even get out of the hospital bed. This world feels familiar, but only because you feel like you’ve seen it before. Your feet step on the floor with confidence, one that something deep inside of you doesn’t have.
“What am I doing here?” you groan.
Why can’t you remember anything? Your heart starts to beat crazily in your chest. It hurts, the air hurts, your body hurts. With trembling fingers, he clutches your hand in his, and it suddenly calms you down.
“It’s okay,” Yoongi suddenly says with a soft smile that soon vanishes. “Come find me when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”
“Ready for what—?”
“No need, I’ll just check on the—” Another man walks into the room, looking over his shoulder as he says goodbye to his colleague and closes the door behind him – only to gasp as soon as he sees you sitting up on the bed. “God—! Oh, God, what a fright. I— Mr Min? When did she wake up?” he asks then, walking up to you. “Is she talking?”
“I’m talking, yeah,” you grumble, feeling the ache in your gums.
Doctor Park blinks. “Uh, fully talking? We’ll need to run a few tests… So, she’s completely in her senses? I’m so glad— oh, your family will be so happy to hear the news,”
With a tilt of his chin, Yoongi gets up, eyes never leaving yours. It’s almost like he has to tear his body away from your closeness, and you sort of feel the same way. You don’t want him to step away, can’t bear it. Finally, he addresses the doctor:
“She, uh… She doesn’t remember anything,” he mutters, to the other man’s surprise.
“At all?”
“My mind is blank. What is this place? What happened to me?” you groan, trying to get someone to listen to you.
“All right, all in good time,” the doctor sighs. “Mr Min, please leave us a minute. Ma’am, I do have to call for your family; your mother and, uh, boyfriend are both here. They both got asked to rest a bit.”
Doctor Park eyes Yoongi to see if he reacts, but the man remains unmoved. With that, the former leaves and the latter waits for a chance to look at you thoroughly before saying goodbye.
“Wait!”
Yoongi halts and turns around. “You don’t need to pretend. It’s too soon. But don’t forget—”
Come find me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.
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Rehab takes months. You don’t remember a thing about your life, can’t recognise anyone – the woman who claims to be your mother, whatever that means, cries as she talks to the doctor. Your boyfriend arrives with a bouquet and a wide smile, but it drops the second he’s told you don’t know who he is. Your boss has been contacted, nobody expected you to live, it’s a medical miracle. And you still fail to feel one with your body.
Oh, how you hate your body.
Your skin, your bones, your muscles. Your eyes and your teeth, your gums, your little skull; they all are so weak and pathetic, feel like they’re wrapping something much worthier. Something you don’t understand with this stupid, memoryless brain of yours.
After a two-year coma, the doctor said, it’s completely normal to feel disoriented.
While that doesn’t comfort your family, it does make you feel a little better. Amidst this sea of empty feelings and moments when you think a bird is trying to burst through your chest and escape, knowing that it’s normal to feel this way makes it a little more bearable. Even as your body recovers and your mind doesn’t.
“Well, there is no head trauma,” he continues, “that could explain the memory loss. Even after such an accident, most patients with amnesia usually recover after a few months.”
You remember the first time your boyfriend touched you after you woke up. He grabbed your hand with a tender smile, like his life was suddenly all good and fixed, and told you he loved you. Guilt creeps up your throat as you remember how indifferent it made you feel – to be loved so unconditionally.
Still, all you can think about was him.
Min Yoongi, the man who was with you when you woke up. Doctor Park said he came to visit you every day, called you by a different name, dodged your family like a ninja. A lover, maybe. All the medical staff just figured you had been cheating on your boyfriend with him.
No need to ruin the life of a comatose in case they ever woke up, uh? Even now, no one else knows much about him.
“So, she’ll never… remember us? I’m her mother! She must remember me somewhere in her brain! I gave birth to her, I raised her!”
You listen without much attention to your mother’s cries on the other side of the door.
Doctor Park tries to comfort her. “Well, that’s… We don’t know that, ma’am. Her memory loss could be due to so many different reasons, emotional even. It doesn’t need to be directly related to the car crash.”
But none of this feels yours. The only thing you’ve felt connected with ever since you woke up is Yoongi’s touch, as he’s been missing since that very same day. He just… stormed off the room, the hospital, your life, arrived with answers and left with them too. And it still feels like he knows something you don’t; maybe you are having an affair with him, after all?
You need to see Yoongi. He’s got the answers you’re looking for, of that you’re sure. You just need to go and look for them, look for him.
First things first, you need to get out of this unblemished, white loophole.
You know you have a flat somewhere in the city, you hadn’t moved in to live together with your boyfriend yet. Now that’s never gonna happen, you don’t even know the man. He cries a bit when you tell him you’re moving back as soon as you’re done with rehab, and your mother tries to convince you to stay with her, move back in, but you refuse – you don’t know these people.
“She’s a bit confused, but otherwise she’s improved a lot. Except for her memory, that is… I’m sorry, I really am. I wish there was something else I could do.”
“But she can’t remember her own family! How can she get discharged and considered well enough to leave? Is this even legal?”
“Sir, she’s… She’s a legal adult, no longer on active treatment, and her condition is stable; she’s ready to return to her job, fully able to continue with her life as it was before. If it were not for her memory loss, it would be as if there had never been an accident. It’s unusual, but you have to accept it.”
“So there’s nothing we can do? Do I have to stand by and watch my daughter abandon me?”
“Ma’am, it’s her decision. So, no, there’s nothing you can do.”
“I refuse! She’s my daughter!”
“She could report you for harassment if you’re not careful. Please be patient. My advice, as a professional, is to wait. Wait until she recovers her memory, don’t push her, don’t follow her around – she needs all the peace and quiet in the world to recover from it.”
“She’s my daughter—!”
There she goes, your mother is crying again. Doctor Park, the angel he is, tries to comfort her, wants to clear the way for you as you get ready to leave the hospital. How you wish there was something connecting you to her, even the familiarity of her touch, but you can’t get near her without provoking a dramatic scene, not yet. Now, your very own flat awaits you, the place you used to call home. Will you recognise it? Probably not.
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“The plans of the complex have to be sent to the City Council before we can continue with the felling, but Mrs Kim doesn’t want you to push yourself, you should go slowly.”
You have no idea what you’re doing, your heart was going to burst the first time you set foot in your office, but it’s as if your body remembers what you used to do; an awfully weird feeling, this body you hate so much seems to know about your life far better than you do, and it pisses you off to the point that, sometimes, your fingers tingle, almost craving to tear your skin with your nails.
“It’s okay, I’m doing well.” You see your colleague standing at your desk, almost hesitant. “Anything else, Jungkook-ssi?”
“Sorry, I don’t wanna be nosy, but— is it true that you don’t remember your family? Or your boyfriend?” he finally asks, as if you’ve asked to spit out his lungs and serve them on a silver plate for you.
“I— uh— that’s private, sorry. I’m trying to deal with it.”
“Your mother must be heartbroken…”
You sigh. “I know.”
“Oh, sorry,” he rushes to say, making you let out a tired chuckle, “that surely doesn’t help. Well, take your time with the reports, it’s okay if it takes you a bit longer than usual. And we’re eager to help in any way, just in case… you don’t remember.”
“I will, eventually, don’t worry,” you tell him, but you’re rather comforting yourself.
You hope so. It should happen, you should remember your family, your colleagues, your life – why don’t you, though? Why can you move your body perfectly well, recovered from the crash as if it had never happened, but can’t remember even a single day from your past? You don’t know a thing about yourself. What’s your favourite colour? And your favourite show? When did you get your first job, or your first kiss? Were you a good student of a rebellious brat? Who are you? Who are you? Who the fuck are you?
As always when you ask yourself those questions, you think of him.
You haven’t seen that stranger, Min Yoongi, in a while. It’s not like you have a reason to, though – unlike everyone else, you haven’t run into him yet, your life hasn’t brought him back. Why would he even go visit you just to disappear? You don’t even have his contact saved on your phone, you checked as soon as you managed to unlock it.
But his touch—
His touch felt like home. Soothing and warm, it’s the only thing that has felt familiar ever since the accident, and not only to your body but also to your mind, to your heart, to your soul.
It feels like your chest shrinks at the thought of him. To take Min Yoongi out of your mind for some time, you get on with work. By the time you’re done, it’s past nine, took you longer, brain not functioning as it should. It’s okay, that’s what your boss says. That’s what everybody says.
Waiting for the bus, you pull out your mobile; twelve missed calls from your mother, five from your boyfriend, three from your sister, a few messages from some of your cousins and friends scattered in between.
The answer is always the same – if you bother to reply: “I’m trying. Please, don’t contact me. This too is hard for me.”
“Are you getting on the bus?”
You turn around and see an old lady waiting to see if she can get on. “Oh” – you take a look at the screen. Yes, it’s your bus – “yeah, but— you first. It’s all right. I had my mind somewhere else.”
“It’s okay,” she replies with a smile and gets on right before you.
Since you’re not going to take the last free seat from an old lady who can barely stand up for longer than five minutes, you get on the bus and find some room in a corner, facing the big window. It starts to rain almost instantly, the sound of the raindrops tapping the glass flowing through your mind. For a second, you picture they’re tapping the leaves of a tree instead, there’ll be dew the next morning.
The shadow of a familiar smell sneaks into your nose, you try to follow it. Don’t leave, stay with me. But suddenly you’re opening your eyes again to a world of concrete and smoke.
You feel like throwing up.
With your eyes fixed on the window, following the droplets as they slide down the glass. The bus stops, the raindrops reach the bottom and mix with the rest. You’re jealous of them and look away.
Next stop: Dongincheon Station. The doors open, and a few people get off.
Just that second you see a platinum blonde shadow, it reminds you of him almost instantly; Yoongi enters your field of vision, your body reacts on its own. Or is it something deeper inside of you that makes you get off the bus even though the doors are closing already?
But the back of your coat gets stuck, couldn’t make it in time. Someone inside the bus warns the driver while you pull and pull, looking up to see if he’s gone – and he is.
The doors open, you can finally step away as it drives off. And you stand there, passengers passing by and bumping into you, but you don’t notice, getting soaked under the heavy rainfall. Come find me when you’re ready. Ready for what, you asked him, and you still don’t know. Why would you? You don’t know anything at all, don’t even know your body, your past, this lingering feeling in the tip of your fingers.
Why does he have to be so mysterious, though? Min Yoongi could have perfectly told you who he is, what role he had in your life before you forgot him. But no, he had to be all secretive about it and leave as soon as Doctor Park got him the chance to.
You have to be ready first, he said. Then you could go to him.
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“It’s two in the morning, why don’t you go home? You should rest.”
Jungkook places another mug of steamy, caffeine-filled coffee in front of you anyway and sighs. You know he’s worried about you; what you don’t understand is why. Were you such good colleagues in the past? Ugh, how you hate that you don’t know these things. Maybe you are best friends, maybe he has a crush on you. Who knows? Certainly not you.
“I’m fine, thank you,” you say with a soft chuckle. “You can go home if you want, though – there’s no need to wait for me.”
He presses his lips together and finally musters the courage to grab a nearby chair and sit with you. “Are you, really? I know, with the memory loss and all, you’ve… changed. We all understand. But don’t you think you’re—? What’s this? What are you doing?”
Oh, he’s pointing at the countless documents scattered on your desk, papers, pictures, notes written in a hurried and almost frantic way.
You rush to keep them away from Jungkook’s prying eyes. “They’re, uh— they’re nothing, just stuff,” you babble, grabbing them, but he manages to get one and take a look. “Don’t! It’s personal!”
“I know this guy,” Jungkook says in surprise.
“You— you do?”
At his words, you can only stare at him in disbelief. Does he? Jungkook knows Min Yoongi? So, he is part of your life. Maybe not the most public figure, but it’s not some feverish imagination of yours. Yoongi is real, and he does have answers to your unspoken questions, those that live only in your heart, in this empty body.
“Uh, yeah,” the boy continues, “I’d see him from time to time at the hospital… Why? Do you remember him?”
“He… was with me when I woke up.”
The following sound that Jungkook has you arching your eyebrows at him. “Nothing, just… I just thought he was a, hm, special friend? I think I even saw your boyfriend around asking about him. The medical staff’s behaviour was a bit suspicious, I must say.”
“He thinks I was having an affair with Min Yoongi?” you murmur to yourself, looking again. Can it be true? It would explain his secretive behaviour. “Then he must know things about him.”
“He was pretty thorough with his investigation,” Jungkook says with a chuckle.
With what you’ve found out, you thank him, gather your stuff, and storm off before he can add anything else.
It’s rushed, might not work, but now you need to know what he could’ve possibly found out about Min Yoongi, so you take out your phone and text your boyfriend. Need to talk, can I come over? You just hope he won’t get his hopes too high; you don’t want to break his heart. Honestly, the only thing you want is to find out what happened during the car crash, and why Yoongi told you to find him once you ‘are ready’.
Of course, I’ll text you the address. I imagine you don’t remember.
“Hi,” he says with a broad smile, almost out of breath as soon as he opens the door. “Uh, come in, please. It wasn’t… It wasn’t hard to get here? Being past midnight and all. Did you get a taxi?”
“Ah, yeah, I did. And thank you, I’m sorry about the time,” you mutter, walking into the small entrance hall.
The flat is cute, elegant, but it doesn’t raise any memories. It’s like you’re stepping on unknown territory. But he’s quick to step aside to let you in and see you to the living room, where you take a seat in front of him.
“Namjoon, listen, I’ve been thinking—”
“Sorry, but could I go first?” he cuts you off, and you nod. “Thank you… The thing is, I’ve been thinking too. And I’m sorry, so sorry. I totally ignored what you needed at that moment, peace and quiet, what the doctor said. But I was so happy to see you wake up.” Namjoon’s voice breaks, he fights back tears. “We were told you probably wouldn’t. But now I understand everything. This is… This is a new chance; I’ll wait for you to get your memory back. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
“And if I never get them back?” you ask him as your voice breaks too.
“You will, I’m sure. Doctor Park said it’s most likely due to something emotional and not brain damage. I’ll be with you, by your side, waiting… But, uh, what is it you wanted to tell me?”
You take his hands with yours – you need to do it before you speak. “Namjoon, I… I don’t wanna make promises. I might never recover my memory, don’t forget that. And until it happens, I need to… sort things out. My job, my flat, my body, my life… I need to sort them all out.”
“So— you need to sort me out too?”
You nod weakly and look away. Your eyes fix everywhere; on your hands as you fidget, on your feet, and on the carpet under them too. You stare down at your shoes, and then you look up back at him, and God, your heart shrinks with such pity; because you do pity Namjoon, and your mother, and your sister, and everyone in your life who has just lost a loved one.
“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “but it’s better than a lie, right?”
Namjoon lets out a breathless chuckle filled with a sense of defeat. “I guess? I don’t know. This really is the last reason why I ever imagined you’d break with me.”
“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head to the side with curiosity.
“Well, I— hm, I… imagined things during your time at the hospital. I know it’ll make me look like I’m some sort of lunatic, but” – Namjoon takes a deep breath, he’s laughing at his own absurdity – “I thought you were cheating on me and that this… whole amnesia thing was just a ploy to ditch me and go back to—”
“Min Yoongi.”
Namjoon freezes when you finish his sentence, he cringes at the thought that you do remember him, or that he’s been in your new life enough to make himself known – this man who has been giving him the headache of his life.
“You remember him?” he asks then with a broken voice.
But you shake your head. “No, not at all… He just was sitting next to me when I woke up.”
“Did he— did he say anything?”
Come find me when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.
“Nothing important,” you reply softly and shake your head, “just… his name, and how happy he was that I was awake – until I told him I didn’t know him. But Doctor Park walked in before he could say anything else, and he just stormed off— Namjoon, you have to answer me honestly.” Your boyfriend looks into your eyes with determination. “Was I— was I really cheating on you?”
“That’s what I first thought.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “But, uh, I don’t think so? Forgive me for this, but I… dug a bit into his life— well, I actually asked my lieutenant to pull some strings for me.”
“And?”
Your voice sounds indifferent – you don’t really care that he was suspicious enough about your presumed infidelity to look into someone he doesn’t know. Especially not when it comes in so handy. If you had any memory of Namjoon, perhaps – of your shared snippets of life, of your love story – his mistrust would’ve definitely offended you, but you don’t really feel anything about it. Just… the satisfaction of a load of work off your shoulders.
Namjoon gets up just leave and come back with some folders. “Well, I didn’t really find out anything extraordinarily weird about him; he’s from Daegu, rough childhood. The only thing that  could possibly connect him with you is that he almost died of an overdose a week or so after your accident, and then he moved to Seoul, changed his name, got some part-time jobs here and there, and moved to an old cabin in the forest for which your company was sued for arson.”
“The forest?” The mention of that place provokes some kind of spark in your head. It’s painful, stings, leaves your temples throbbing. Namjoon leans into you in concern. “I’m all right…”
“The only thing,” he continues, “extraordinary about all of this is… When he arrived, the first thing he did was look into every single hospital in town asking for you until he found you. He was using a different name… I don’t know, that’s all I could find out.”
The forest. The forest. The forest, the forest, the forest. It’s vivid in your head, you can even hear the chirping, the wind breezing through the trees and their green leaves. The mere memory of it soothes your headache like it’s nothing, like the warm hug of a home. You’re silent as a tear, alerting Namjoon, rolls down your cheek.
“Hey, are you okay—?”
His touch. Yes, his touch, that’s it, that’s the feeling. Yoongi’s touch as he held your hand when you woke up, that’s home.
“I—” You get up out of a sudden, making him flinch. “Do you know where Min Yoongi works all those part-time jobs? I think I’ll have to talk to him – he’s the only one who might know something about… this.”
“Uh, yeah, it’s all in the folders. He usually works the morning or afternoon shift in a repair shop in Incheon, and the rest of the day he works as a delivery driver.”
“Okay, thank you. For everything…” you tell him with a pitying smile before you snap out of your own sadness and look around. “I think it’s time I leave; you must be tired, so you’d better get some sleep. I’ll take these with me—”
Namjoon shakes his head. “It could be dangerous, let me go with you—”
“No—! I mean,” you say and take a deep breath, “he’s been in a room with me comatose, that was a pretty good chance to hurt me if he wanted to. And I’ll go see him during his shift, there’ll be other customers around, I won’t be completely alone with him. Trust me.”
You manage to convince him that you’ll be all right, even if you honestly have no idea. But the forest— the forest is the first thing since you woke up that feels familiar, it’s the only thing sparkling in some dusty corner of your head, telling you that there is something there, that you could get your memories back if you just dig into this trail of footprints enough.
And those footprints undoubtedly lead to Min Yoongi.
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Next stop: Dongincheon Station.
You get off the bus, this time knowing you’ll find him soon.
Even though it’s not raining anymore, the air still smells like rain, soft and damp, refreshing. Something you love about this part of the city is all the green areas and the waterfront; it all brings in such a smell, you can breathe in and fill up your lungs with it.
Taking out your phone, you check the address one last time before heading to the repair shop. It’s only a few streets away, which is probably why you once saw Yoongi passing by the bus stop.
The door chimes as you open it. The knob feels cold against your touch and the shop is empty, with no heating at all in the middle of this impassable winter. Maybe the job gets him all warmed up, but you’re literally trembling. You don’t like the cold, not at all – not when it’s so dry and painful.
You look for him around the small shop—
There he is, silent and observant; he heard you walk in. And you may not know a thing about your life before the accident, you may not feel you belong into your body, you may not understand this feeling, like your whole skin tingles and itches, begging you to rip it off and set you free – but you know Min Yoongi does.
“Hi,” you murmur, almost out of breath. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest. “Took me a while to find you, you know.”
Yoongi takes one last look down at the papers he’s revising before he stands up from the counter stool in silence. Behind him is a half-assembled table of beautiful mahogany wood. It looks heavy. However, he seems to know his way so well in this place that you’re sure it’s no inconvenience to his rather petite build.
“Do you remember me now, Y/N?” he asks half-heartedly, as if he already knows the answer.
“Not exactly.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle; perhaps he was already expecting it, and it makes you feel a little bit better – for once, someone is aware of your current limits. Even if your wording provokes an aftertaste of hope in his eyes, in the way his shoulders rise slightly.
“And what does that mean?” Yoongi asks again, still calm.
“I, hm— well,” you babble, and you immediately laugh at yourself in embarrassment. “Ugh, sorry, it’s just— I don’t wanna sound like a psycho.”
“Just tell me— but, uh, do you want to take a seat? Sorry, looks like I left my manners at home,” he blurts out too, suddenly nervous. What will you tell him now? Do you remember him, just in a different way? He doesn’t know what to expect at all. “A drink?” You shake your head with a soft smile as you sit down on the chair he pointed to. “I, hm, well— I’m all ears.”
Unlike with Namjoon, with Min Yoongi you feel you can tell him everything, and so you do; from the lack of memories to the strange feeling you had when you first heard about the forest. You do leave the story about his touch for the last, and you tell him a bit embarrassed, but he… understands.
Again, it’s the forest that triggers him. “Have you been there… since you woke up?” You shake your head again. “I might have to show you, then.”
“Well, I don’t know you.”
“Uh, yeah, you technically don’t…” he mutters to himself. Technically?
“I need to know first” – your eyes wander around the small workshop before you can muster the courage to look at him – “what were we? What was my relationship with you before the car crash? How do you know me? Why do you call me by a different name?”
“I was your lover,” Yoongi finally says, “before the accident.”
Oh. So, you were cheating on Namjoon. With a guy who’d otherwise be totally unconnected to you. Bummer.
“— but then you died.”
Your heart stops. “Uh, sorry, I did what?” You feel yourself over your clothes, wondering if this is hell. “But— I feel pretty much alive! Look, there’s— there’s blood running through my veins, and I’m breathing…!” you cry then. What on earth is he saying? You show him your wrists again. “I’m alive, look!”
“You’re alive now,” Yoongi says as if it’s not obvious. “Thanks to that body, which is obviously not enough for you.”
Wow, now you understand this whole thing even less.
It must show in the way you stare at him because Yoongi sighs again and murmurs, “I love you, and you love me too. But it’s not this” – he points at your whole – “that I love, that’s new for me too. It’s what’s inside. What do humans call it? Your soul.”
Humans? What is he then, the ghost of Christmas yet to come?
“You said that hearing about the forest made something… spark in your head, right?” he continues. “Then let’s go there. If my theory is correct, it will bring back your memories.”
“I’ll remember my life? My mother, my boyfriend, my job, my past?” you ask, dumbfounded. There’s no particular excitement in your voice, but there is eagerness.
A longing for this suffering to stop.
“No, I told you those are not your memories.”
So… those are the memories from… the person this body belonged to? To a name that sounds too foreign, to the person beloved by those you see as nothing but strangers—? But then, what are your memories? Whom did you use to be?
“You’re just like me,” Yoongi says, and for a second you think he was reading your mind. “This body, it’s just a shell, something I borrowed for you to someone who’d already left this realm.”
Your lover, Yoongi is your lover. And you’re not even human, it seems. But— somehow, it makes sense. Every single second you’ve gone through wishing you could tear your body apart and fly away, thinking that the world around you was dirty and coarse – it all makes sense now, finally. Maybe you’ve sorted things out at last.
And then you look up at him. The face is unfamiliar, but what’s lying underneath… feels like home, this aura he emits.
“Since the moment I woke up…” you murmur, hands cupping his cheeks. Yoongi goes stiff at your touch, “you’re the only thing I could think about.”
He nuzzles your palm anyway. “I was so happy, I’ve been waiting for so long, my love—”
“I hate that I can’t remember how much I love you, but somehow, I know I do,” you breathe against his lips, hovering over them. The almost touch makes the both of you dizzy. You crave him. “You’re my only beacon now, Yoongi.”
This is your breaking point; in an instant, you throw yourself onto his lips, seeking a warmth you never knew you were missing. But he feels just right between your arms, his skin feels just right against your hands, his scent, his voice, his everything – this is what you had been missing all along.
Yoongi hurriedly kisses you back, brushing your lips together. It feels like he’s exhaling smoke through his pores, this pent-up yearning. With both hands cupping his cheeks, you deepen the contact, suck on his tongue as you feel your skin heating up.
Touching him feels more intense than any other person has ever done. Like electricity, it runs down your fingers and pools in your lower back, leaving you hungry for more.
Reluctantly, you stop kissing him, but your lips are still pressed against his; you can’t let go of him, apparently. It’s scary but oh, so soothing. Finally. “There’s something I still don’t understand… How exactly did I die?”
“You were killed,” he grunts, “by the minions of the woman who used to live in your body. She killed you… so I took it for you.”
“But— but I’m only a construction manager,” you reply with a puzzled chuckle.
With a heavy sigh, Yoongi pulls away from you. He looks defeated, and it breaks your heart to think it’s because you referred to yourself as her, the woman he hates so much. But it’s not that— no, he’s mad at himself, mad at everything he’s made you go through.
“Will you let me show you now?”
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Since it has been raining all night, the leaves are still crunching under your feet as you walk uphill. Yoongi walks in front of you, showing you the way. You can already see the beginnings of the forest ahead; the smell is unmistakable, fills your lungs like honey, like a thirsty throat gulping down water. It only grows the closer you get.
“How are you feeling?”
“A bit out of breath,” you reply with a chuckle. “I don’t know… It’s weird, the tingling. And my head hurts.”
Well, it’s better than nothing. Perhaps it means you are getting closer to something important – Yoongi seems sure that it’ll work, at least.
“It’s okay,” he whispers and takes your hand.
Again, his touch sends shivers down your spine, and the lump in your throat softens. You feel like crying for a second, due to the crippling pressure on your temples as you walk into the forest or because you don’t remember a gentler touch than his.
“I cried here too” – Yoongi’s voice snaps you out of your trance, you’re crying – “I mourned you here. The forest,” he murmurs, “reminds me of you.”
“Why?”
Yoongi sighs. “It connected me to you while I waited. This, this was all you, it was all part of you. Every tree, every droplet of water from the streams, the soil beneath our feet – they’re your body more than this bag of flesh and bones will ever be.”
You know that. Deep down, you already know that, felt it in your soul ever since you woke up. This is not your body, you don’t belong there; you belong here, in the forest, with him.
“But this is what I am now,” you reply with a soft voice. “This bag of flesh and bones is all I am now.”
And you lock eyes with him.
It’s less violent than you thought. A sweet trail of memories, different by way of a thought, seeps into your brain. There are no images, no smells, no sounds, but you’re certain that whatever it is that you feel when you’re close to Yoongi – that’s flooding your memory. And then there’s the forest, engrained in your very nature, in your very soul. That’s when the sounds come in; the birds chirping, the breeze blowing softly between nests of leaves and branches.
But then you feel a sting, and you frown in confusion.
Yoongi lets go of your hand as you walk past him to continue to observe your surroundings. The deeper you go into the greenery, the darker it turns. Suddenly, the trees are black, the sky is a greyish red as an inferno-like sunset sinks into the horizon, there are no more streams of burbling water.
Your corpse, he’s showing you your corpse. All these ashes scattered on the soil, this burnt hell – this is you.
“That bitch,” you whimper, “she killed me.”
The headache worsens, and you almost fall on your knees.
Now you remember the pain, the way you burnt down to your death. The betrayal. A shiver goes down your spine, you no longer see black, eyes presented instead with visions of flames, red tongues devouring everything around them.
You didn’t have blood back then, but you bled. You couldn’t shed tears back then, but you cried. You didn’t have a body back then, but they crushed you, and they killed you. You were killed.
Warm fingers wrap around your hand, pressing tightly. The pain soothes for a second, and you look up at him.
Yoongi.
The bubble that has been resisting to pop in a corner of your head suddenly does; your beloved Yoongi, your lover, your soulmate, trapped in this cell of flesh with you, for you.
“Yoongi,” you cry out. There’s a different tone in your voice, and it makes him look at you, “my love—”
“Y/N?”
And you burst into tears of joy, of sadness, of grief and relief. “Yoongi, I’m alive.”
“Yes, you are,” he whimpers, leaning in for a deep kiss. This time, you know him – he’s your home, after all. He’s the warmth of a fireplace and the comfort of a cat napping on a sofa. He’s the sturdy feeling of wood, the relief of coming back home and taking off your shoes. “You are, my love, and you’re here.”
“Why did they do it? How could they do this to me?” you cry again. You find refuge in the crook of his neck, hugging him tightly.
It hurts, it burns. Your beloved humans, your dear creatures that you nurtured and fed. You had given them wood, Yoongi had given them his craftsmanship, and the both of you offered them the beauty of creation. And they killed you with their greedy, little hands – the hands you now possess too.
“We have to accept that the world we knew in our youth doesn’t exist anymore,” he murmurs, trying to comfort you. “This one is made of concrete and smoke, ever-expanding, ever-destroying. They know no kindness.”
You can’t say it makes you feel better, but it does make you resent them a bit less, and that surely is soothing. They’re capable of love, towards a small group of peers, at least. Maybe it’s true that this world has become more unforgiving than you ever thought it could, so ruthless and crude.
“Let’s not grieve,” Yoongi says then, making you snap out of your gloomy thoughts. “Come on, there’s another place I wanna show you.”
He tugs at your hand, and you follow him downhill.
It’s not long before you glimpse a small but sturdy wooden construction. A house, a pretty cottage, now a bit rusty, but cared for and watched over. A home. You smile – Yoongi leading you to a home, what a surprise.
“So,” you say, taking a look around as you walk into the place after him, “this is where you live?”
“I guess it pales in comparison to your flat.”
You frown, confused. “You’ve seen the place I live in?”
“Of course; I had to make sure you’d be comfortable when you woke up… But I hope you like it. Get comfortable, I’ll make us some tea.”
“Oh, no, I love it,” you insist and take a seat on the soft couch. “It’s so cosy, and warmer than I imagined. And I like it far better than my lifeless flat…”
Yoongi just smiles quietly as he goes into the open kitchen. The cottage is small, and it doesn’t appear to have a second floor. You can see him fumbling with the kettle, humming to himself, and suddenly everything feels just right. It’s weird, you would’ve never imagined you’d find yourself in a situation like this, but with Yoongi, it feels right.
“Here you go…”
You must have been engrossed in your thoughts for quite some time because next time you know, he’s holding out a steamy cup of tea in front of you.
“Oh, thank you.” It doesn’t feel too hot on your fingers, and it’s just warm when you sip it. “Hm, this is good.”
He takes a seat next to you on the comfortable couch, and you feel the sudden urge to get closer. Sadly, you don’t know how he’d feel about that, so you just make do with enjoying his presence beside you. Even if your fingers itch to touch him.
“So, this is it,” you murmur. Your eyes are fixed on his, looking at them in awe.
“What do you mean?”
Your smile puzzles him. “I mean, we’re human now. You became human for me… And we’ll live a human life. We’ll grow old and die…”
“Again,” he adds teasingly.
“Again,” you agree, letting out a soft chuckle.
It doesn’t make you feel bad, though. Just a bit afraid, perhaps, but not bad. You can’t, not now that you’ve got Yoongi back. Your love. A sigh of contentment escapes your lips, and your fingers move to his head, raking through his soft hair. Yoongi mewls at the contact and nuzzles your side pretty much instinctively.
“Can I kiss you?” you whisper, cupping his cheek so that he’ll look at you.
“Of course.”
Pressing your forehead against his, you grasp Yoongi’s chin and tilt it up. The two of you stay still for a second, just looking into each other’s eyes. You missed him so fucking much, even if you didn’t remember him; your soul ached for every second you forced yourselves to stay apart.
Instead of pressing your lips together, you tilt your head to the side to dig your tongue into his collarbone, making him jump in surprise. An embarrassingly high-pitched whimper escapes his lips, he can feel your chuckle vibrate against his skin. You let him know that it’s appreciated, though, sucking the skin of his neck into your mouth.
“Y-Y/N—”
“Yeah?” you purr, too focused on sneaking your hands under his shirt.
Whatever it is that he wanted to say, it looks like he’s given a second thought, now indulging in your tender but eager caresses.
Yoongi’s hips buck against you. You chuckle again, far too amused and eager to see in which other ways he’ll react to your touch. So, you move your hand south and cup his crotch, without hesitation – he’s half-hard already, your eager little boy.
Honestly, you’ve always wondered why humans were obsessed with sex. Since you didn’t have a human body back then, you’ve never had the chance to try it their way. But now you do, and so does Yoongi, so you can’t wait to feel for yourself how come something so regular and natural as procreation has brought almost all humanity crazy since the very beginning of their existence.
But seeing him like this, feeling him tremble beneath you, having this sort of dominance over him that he seems to love so much – it all makes sense now.
“Fuck, baby” – you breathe through your nose, his scent is addictive – “you’re driving me crazy. It’s almost like I can’t keep my hands off of you.” Is this what arousal feels like? Because to you, it feels like you’re about to burst. “I wanna eat you up.”
You go up to kiss him on the lips again. A bit shyly, Yoongi parts them to let you in, lets you suck his bottom lip into your mouth with a whimper. Slowly, the two of you lean back on the couch, pushed down by the weight of your kiss. As you swirl your tongue around his, it gets more intense, more eager, more desperate.
His hands fly to your lower back when you straddle his lap, feeling his hardness against your crotch.
“P-please,” he finally whines.
Hooking your fingers in the collar of his shirt, you pepper kisses down his now exposed chest. “Please, what, baby boy?” you ask with feigned unawareness.
You can’t get enough of his skin. That feeling that you got when you first touched him, it’s everywhere now, making you grit your teeth and making saliva pool under your tongue. Like you’re starving and he’s a delicatessen, your love made flesh, missing lovers finally reunited. How you’ve missed him, how you’ve missed this touch you’d actually never known until now, how you’ve missed having him with you, and letting him know how much you love him.
And now all those feelings tingle under your skin. They’re almost palpable, they’re manifesting within this small, weak, mortal body. It’s in the way your muscles throb with want, in the way your heart pumps blood faster and faster, in the empty feeling in your crotch.
“Have you done this before?”
“I-I’ve played,” he lets out in whisper, “with myself— but that’s it.”
The mental image pushes you to kiss him hard again. This one is even sloppier, a thread of spit dripping from the corner of his mouth. He must be feeling the way you fumble on his lap because he starts squirming, the friction sending jolts of pleasure down his spine. Yoongi’s trying to kiss you back, but it’s almost impossible.
“Stay still,” you chuckle.
He groans again. “I can’t, f-feels so good.”
You bite down on his neck, and he whimpers. His cock throbs, how long are you going to keep this up for?
Like electricity, the feeling of your fingertips travelling down to play with the hem of his shirt. It makes his stomach twitch in expectation, and Yoongi looks down at you when you lower your head to pepper kisses over the trail of hair that vanishes into his pants.
You’ve had enough giggling lovers sneak into the forest to more or less know what you’re doing. You’ve seen enough cocks getting sucked to know not to use your teeth, or to have a rough idea of how long it’ll take Yoongi to come, or what will happen when he does. And God, you’re so eager to see that white stream bubble out of his tip, and hear his sweet, high-pitched moans get even higher when you deny him because you’ve actually planned for him to come inside of you.
Pulling down the zip of his pants painfully slowly, you can get a clearer sight of his clothed erection standing against the fabric of his underwear, which you’re quick to remove too.
“What are you doing to do…?”
“Just some experimenting,” you purr, eyes never leaving his pretty little cock. It springs against his tummy, hard and swollen. Your mouth waters at the sight. “Shit, Yoongi, baby— I can’t wait to taste you. Want me to take off your pants?”
He nods eagerly, and you sit up to tug down at the fabric. Once the smooth skin of his legs is exposed to your eyes and hands, you stroke up and down, feeling the softness of his flesh under your touch.
Without hesitation, you dip your tongue into his slit, making him jump. “F-fuck!”
“Too much?”
“Just caught me by surprise—”
“Mind if I mark you up first?” you ask him instead, and Yoongi nods in a frenzy, taking off his shirt too. “Such pretty thighs, such pretty skin.”
“Please, Y/N—” he begs.
Moving down between his legs, you suck the skin of his inner thighs into your mouth. Yoongi’s hips buckle again, legs twitching. Your lips are so close to his cock, and your tongue felt so good sucking on his tip, now that’s all he can think about, this is all meant to tease him, he knows it. But what can he do when he loves you to death, wants you so bad, needs you so much?
You’ve started to give his balls sloppy kisses, and now you're sucking them into your mouth as much as you can. Yoongi writhes on the couch, hands gripping the cushions as a tiny whimper escapes his lips.
“Fuck!” It only makes his cock throb even more, feels so fucking good, almost overwhelming. Those are your lips playing with the base of his dick, lapping at his balls. “Jesus, Y/N, there, please—” Your thumb finds his puckered hole and presses against it, making him spread his legs wider. “Please, don’t stop…”
“Not planning on that, baby,” you groan.
Using hands and lips together, your other thumb moves to stroke the tip of his cock, dipping into his slit again. You’re doing whatever you feel like at this point, and it’s driving him insane.
This sort of contact is new for him too, though – the feeling of being at someone’s mercy, of putting one’s pleasure in someone else’s hands, especially your hands. Yoongi chokes on a gasp, pleasure pooling in the pit of his stomach. What he feels when he touches himself— this is completely different, this is a kind of bliss from another world; your tongue licks all the way up to his tip, joining your thumb, and his thighs jerk when you finally take him into your mouth.
“Y/N— fuck, fuck,” he cusses silently under his breath. Yoongi’s thrashing with his feet on the couch, throwing his head back against the armrest. “God, t-that feels good, so good, s-so good…”
You hum and hollow your cheeks. The vibrations send jolts of pleasure down his spine, his cock throbs against your tongue. It’s like his whole body is melting into the furniture, and he doesn’t want it to end just yet, but he usually can only keep up with his hand for ten, fifteen minutes.
Of course, it’ll take even less with your mouth.
You pull your lips away, a saliva string connecting you with his tip. “Tell me when you’re about to finish.”
Yoongi nods eagerly – anything for you. Anything for your sloppy kisses, for your wet heat around his cock, for the way you lock eyes with him as you engulf him again, making him whimper at the merciless stimulation.
Maybe his trail of dirty thoughts helps to prompt it, but Yoongi finds himself warning you with a breathless ‘c-coming’ just a couple of minutes later.
“Hm, Y/N, God—” he chews, “I’m close, I’m— I’m gonna—”
With his heart racing, his face grows hot, too hot, feels boiling along with his blood. He can feel the muscles of his thighs practically aching as he tightens them, trying to stop bucking his hips into your mouth. At this point, it doesn’t matter, really; Yoongi arches his back, grips the cushions, tries to hold back his moans when you hollow your cheeks. The sloppy suction finally breaks him apart, swollen lips almost kissing his pubic bone.
“Don’t stop, please,” he cries out.
Engulfed in your wet heat, as soon as Yoongi crosses his eyes with a silent plea, you bob your head up and slide his cock out of your mouth. There’s saliva running down your chin, you’re looking down at him so smugly.
“I thought… I thought you meant something else,” he breathes out, “when you asked me to warn you—”
You kiss his tip nonetheless, and Yoongi whimpers softly. “All in good time.”
What else are you dying to try out with his little cock? Well, there is something you wanna do; with one last lick down his shaft, you say goodbye for now and you come up face to face with him. He smiles instantly, the sight of your soft grin as you stare at him in silence as sweet as honey.
You sink your teeth in his neck again, but this time you go for a mark or two scattered over his pristine skin. He whimpers when you yank his head to the side with your fingers tangled in his hair, cries out another plea.
“God! Oh, shit—”
Finally, Yoongi’s getting louder. You knew he would, eventually, knew he was dying to whine and moan so prettily for you.
“F-fuck!” He yelps and bucks his hips into your fist when you shove your hand between his legs, wrap your hand around his aching cock, and start to pump it without second thoughts. “Fucking Christ, Y/N! I’m gonna— I-I’m gonna—”
You know he’s gonna cum again soon; that’s pretty much your plan – or at least part of it. With a shit-eating grin, you move your hand faster as you go down on him again, gather his precum with your thumb to spread it over his swollen tip with your tongue. His little cock is so flustered and red, and fuck, he’s so wet.
Yoongi chokes on a sob as you bob up and down his length. His voice is deep, but he sounds so breathy and desperate that it’s just as sweet. Losing composure, he can’t keep controlling the burn in the pit of his stomach from growing uncontrollably, swelling inside of him and making him gulp and jerk his hips, chasing your fist like a maniac.
“Oh fuck, yes! Please, p-please!”
His second orgasm approaches faster, and this seems to be more intense, picking up the ruins of his unfinished first climax; it’s written all over his face, o-shaped mouth and crossed eyes, letting out an incredibly high-pitched thread of whimpers and bucking his hips into your hand. You’re quick to lick his precum with your lips, let your spit drip down his length and jerk it faster.
“No!” His cries sound so good, make you rub your thighs together in an attempt to soothe your own ache. “P-please,” Yoongi sobs then, looking at you through half-lidded eyes with a mad-driven smile, “fuck, please— this is fucking torture—”
He’s trembling as he speaks, every single fibre in his body tense and aware of your touch.
“It’d be a waste to have you come with my hand,” you growl as you crawl back to be pepper kisses over his flushed cheeks, “don’t you think? When I may as well fuck you and have you fill me up.”
“W-what if you get pregnant?” he murmurs, not really succeeding at his self-imposed task of hiding his excitement at the idea.
“I won’t, I’ve got something called, uh, an IUD? It prevents pregnancies.”
Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, shit— all right, then there’s no problem? I mean, it’s clear that we’re both clean. Humans can get so many diseases through sex…”
“Well, I’ve technically been in a coma for two years,” you chuckle, swinging your hips. Your entrance hovers over the tip of his cock, teasing him with your wetness. He tenses beneath you but tries to focus on what you’re saying, “and you haven’t had sex since you got into this body, right?”
“Only if my hands and my pillow don’t count.”
“Naughty boy,” you growl softly, bending down onto him to bite his bottom lip.
The kiss grows in intensity, and soon you’re devouring each other, hands dancing and fluttering as you just grab and touch every ounce of skin that gets within their reach. Electricity shivers down your digits, he stirs on the couch as soft whimpers come out of his petal-like lips. A toothy kiss sinks on his neck, Yoongi whines a bit more.
Finally, you get off him for a second and rid yourself of your shirt. Your hands unhook your bra in no time, your boobs bounce under Yoongi’s watchful eyes; they look so round, so soft, perky nipples greeting him in such cold air. His mouth waters.
“Wanna suck my tits?” you ask, comically wiggling your eyebrows.
Yoongi lets out a soft chuckle. “Where did you learn that from? I’m half turned-on, half… I mean—” His eyes travel down to your chest, fixed on them as he loses track of his thoughts.
“I think you’re turned on only.”
“Yeah…” he murmurs, and his eyes are still looking at your boobs. “Hm, yeah, I am.”
“Open up that pretty mouth for me then,” you tease him, making him laugh again. “Show me what that tongue can do, baby— you can make a mess, you can stop drooling over them and drool on them instead.”
He does just that; sticks out his tongue as you lean into him. His eyes are glassy now, his skin feels hot when you hold onto him to fix your posture on his lap. Shit, if you were wearing your underwear only, he’d surely feel how fucking wet you are. You’re literally dying to shove his cock inside of you, clench around it, milk him dry. Want to tear one of those pretty, desperate moans off his throat.
His petal-like lips are attached to your nipple in no time. It makes you groan and buck your hips into his, the pressure of his mouth, the wetness spilling down your breast, the flicking of his tongue. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to take a hold of your waist to make sure he won’t ever fall short of booby material to work his tongue on with.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, gritting your teeth. Your hand soon cradles his nape and presses him against your tit. “F-fuck, baby— this feels really good.”
Yoongi doesn’t answer, though – you’ve begun to swing your hips against him, the friction both painful and arousing. It makes him shudder every time you practically bounce on his cock, soft whimpers muffled against your nipple.
Another sigh leaves your mouth. “God, baby, just like that…” you mutter, peeling your eyes open and looking down at him. “Sucking my tits like a greedy baby.”
Your grin just gets wider when he moves to your other nipple, not wasting a second until he’s practically trying to unhinge his jaw so that he can fit your entire boob in his mouth, pinching the other. The feeling of his fingers playing with your sensitive nub sends you overdrive, and you end up pinning him down on the couch under his confused face.
“I’m gonna fuck you, baby boy— shit, look at you.” Yoongi is pretty much out of breath, lips swollen and slick with his own saliva. The blush on his cheeks makes him look ethereal and adorable. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t have any cum left for the next fucking century.”
“S-shit,” he gasps.
So, you raise your hips off him and unzip your pants as quickly as possible. Once you’re completely naked, you stick a finger inside of your cunt just to find it dripping wet and way more sensitive than you imagined. Yoongi stares at you in silence, trying not to get too excited; he’d actually like to last longer than seven minutes inside of you, and your edging has got him sensitive enough already.
It hurts, in some weird way; his cock hurts, his limbs hurt, his jaw hurts. His fingers itch and tingle as he raises his arms and waits for you to finish taking off his shirt. God, even his nails hurt, they ache at his fingers’ desperation.
And, God, so are you.
You throw him onto the couch just to bend down on him the next second, leave crescent marks with your teeth and nails on your pristine skin. Yoongi whimpers again and bucks his hips against you, hot cock brushing against your folds. They’re dripping wet, soaking his length and practically lubing it up.
“Please,” he groans on your lips, “please, Y/N— I’m losing m-my mind…”
“Shut up. You’re my toy for the night, and toys don’t talk,” you let out. But you don’t sound strict, on the contrary, rather amused.
Adrenaline pumps in his spine at your words. They leave him throbbing, salivating almost as he grits his teeth and wishes you’d turn him around and give him a spank – or two. But he’ll be good and wait until you figure out how you want to ruin him today.
When you finally straddle his lap, Yoongi hugs your waist and nuzzles your neck. Your smell is so fresh, so sweet. “So needy,” you chuckle and bite down on his neck, making him whine. “Wanting to get fucked so bad.”
“P-please,” he sobs.
You’re pretty much teasing yourself too at this point as well. Swinging your hips, you sink down onto his cock, going tense immediately at the feeling of him buried deep in you. Yoongi deals with it too as well as he can, swallowed by the warmth of your dripping cunt, thrashing in an attempt to process the heat spreading under his skin.
“God, Yoongi,” you gasp. Your fingers are gripping his shoulders so hard it’ll leave marks. “Shit—”
Just as a try at first, you work thigh muscles and warm up to a brutal pace that has the both of you panting in no time. Yoongi’s lying on the couch, pushed down by your greedy hands who want to have him splayed so that you can nibble and kiss all you want.
This— this is an otherworldly kind of pleasure. The stretch isn’t huge, but the pressure of the tip of his cock makes you groan and raises goosebumps on your skin. Everything is so palpable, such a feeling packed in a body so small and fragile. That’s what makes it overwhelming to have Yoongi moaning and writhing beneath you, victim to your relentless thrusts. He looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, bottom lip caught between his teeth before another whimper escapes from them:
“Fuck! Shit, Y/N, shit—” he cries out. You can feel his cock twitching inside of you. “You feel so good, s-so good!”
Slick drips down to his balls. It smudges with the friction; you’re starting to understand the appeal of staining your loved one with cum. Yoongi pushes against your thrusts, chasing his climax and losing himself in the pleasure. You’re hungry for all these sounds he’s making, wanna squeeze them out of him with a rough grip and your teeth nibbling all down his windpipe.
You lightly run your fingers over his wrists despite the ferocity of your hips. “Such a needy boy— just like that.” Yoongi chokes on a moan when your hands pin him down. “Take all of it. God, you’re a slut for this, aren’t you—?”
“I’m—!”
He twitches again and mewls at your words, arching his back. Almost as if he’s offering his body to you – what a whore.
“P-please, let me come!” Yoongi begs you.
“So soon? Does my pussy feel that good or are you just that desperate for a fuck?” you chuckle against his ear. “Wanna fill me up with your pathetic little dick, huh, is that it?”
Oh, but he’s burning all over. His heart is racing crazily, he’s never felt like this ever since he got this human body. It’s mind-blowing. This knot in the pit of his stomach, the coiling tension about to explode, the ache between his legs setting his nerves on fire that mixes with your wet heat – it’s all so fucking much that he can just moan and whimper on the couch as you have your way with him, which honestly, just makes it all even harder not to come on the spot.
“Yeah—! My p-pathetic little dick— wanna cum!” he lets out in a sob.
“Gotta beg better than that, baby.”
You leave another mark on his neck, hips rolling down onto his cock. “P-please, please, please! Shit! Can’t hold it, baby, I’m— I’m gonna cum! Let me—!”
“Hm.” You inspect his face in silence and pepper his cheeks with feather-like kisses as he whimpers; you’re close, but he’s not going to last long enough. If you do let him come now – which, honestly, you probably will, seeing how hot his desperation is – you’ll have to find another way to climax. “Look at you… You won’t be missing being a spirit even a bit, will you?”
Yoongi just shakes his head and stares up at you with glassy eyes. You click your tongue and grunt permission before sinking your teeth in his neck again, sucking the skin into your mouth. He thrusts up into you a couple of times until he feels his guts tightening.
“Oh fuck, oh, God, please, Y/N, s-so good—!” he cries out again. You can feel his hands gripping your shoulders, leaving marks. Strangled noises coming from his lips, he’s completely lost in pleasure, with his back arched and his eyes crossed. “Just like that, f-fuck! Coming, coming, shit— I’m gonna cum!”
“Come for me, baby,” you whisper in his ear, licking his earlobe.
One last moan and Yoongi’s climaxing with your name on his lips and two thick tears rolling down his cheek. He empties himself inside of you, still sobbing and convulsing, and you milk his pulsing cock until you can’t squeeze any more cum out of him. He seems to be in pain as you fuck his spent length but also a bit into it.
“Oh shit,” he gasps, “hurts, hurts— d-don’t stop—”
You snap your hips onto him more slowly this time. You can feel him massaging your sensitive walls, cum leaking down. “Yeah? Wanna make me come around your spent cock, baby?”
“Come on my cock— please.”
Almost there, you’re almost there – but you have a different idea in mind.
“You know how to use your tongue, baby?” Yoongi looks confused at first, but then you raise off his lap and slide out of his cock, the sight of his cum dripping down your inner thighs makes him understand. He nods softly. “Look at the mess you made… Better clean it up, huh?”
He’s already got his tongue stuck out by the time you sit on his face. Shit, he looks so fucking tempting, like a thirsty bitch, and you’re so turned on, wanna come on his face now.
You feel him lapping at your core and slurping both your and his cum. It’s such a mess, Yoongi’s getting all his face stained with it, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes, lids fluttering shut as some of your slick gets in the corner of his eyes. He moans and groans at all of that, finds it so fucking hot that you’re riding his face and making him suck his own cum to your orgasm.
“Baby, right there—” With your fingers tangled in his hair and his hands cupping your ass, the two of you agree at a frenetic pace, rolling down your hips against Yoongi’s pretty face. “Fuck, fuck, I’m close! Suck it up, babe, suck it all up!”
He whimpers against your folds, and his voice vibrates throughout your core. “Yes, shit, come on my face, please—!”
With more erratic thrusts, you begin to chase your climax as the ache between your thighs expands. You’re soaking Yoongi’s chin with your dripping cunt, but it only makes it easier for him to swap between his nose and tongue to flick your swollen clit. Groans escape from your lips, hips swinging faster, drowning him in your arousal. You’re getting there, just a bit more, Yoongi can feel it too.
“J-just like that, baby!” you grunted. “Fuck!”
Your hips jerk one last time before going still, the tension snaps. The orgasm is strong and long – stronger and longer than you imagined it’d be like. You’re still humping his face, chasing those last remnants of pleasure that still linger in your core before you slow down and stop.
“Wow,” it’s all you can say.
Soon, you find room next to him, and Yoongi sits up to rest on your chest. He likes them, your boobs; you’ve noticed. And it’s kind of endearing that he likes them because you’re happy to welcome his face between them any time.
“Now I understand.” You look down at him. “That obsession humans had with sex? God, now I completely understand.”
“It’s funny; I thought exactly the same thing. Now I understand it too.”
You lie down in silence a little longer, just caressing each other. His hair is so soft, you could spend your entire life stroking it. And to Yoongi your skin feels like silk against his fingertips. You’re so tired. It feels like you’re carrying a thousand lifetimes on your back.
It’s still weird to think about it – to think about how you thought you were a completely different person just some hours ago. How he was sitting in front of you already by the time you woke up after waiting for years. Your long sleep must have been torture for him, you’re glad you don’t remember anything. Now you’re together again, he’s your entire world.
Even though you’re worried about the forest, you know nature will get back its balance. Without you, though. But now you’re something else, you have other duties. You’re a human, you must worry about human things. It’s kind of exciting, actually; a whole new world to rediscover.
“There are so many new things we don’t know about each other,” you murmur against the crown of his head. “Did you know I get grumpy in the morning? And I hate paperwork.”
Yoongi is not answering, so you tilt up your head and take a look at him – he’s fallen asleep already, resting calmly with his face nestled between your breasts. His lips are parted so prettily, you’re glad you got to see it. You might get grumpy in the morning, but he sleeps like a log. The thought makes you chuckle, already wondering what other things you’re yet to find out about him.
With your hands cupping the back of his head and cradling him against your chest, you kiss the crown of his hair. It’s just weird to think that he’s not conscious right now, that he’s given to you the entirety of his safety. And a good job you’ll do.
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“Eden’s sleep” is copyright ²⁰²¹ Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.
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dilfsugaaa · 7 days ago
Text
Falling for Sin [3] | M.YG
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summary: “I have heard shy girls are the loudest on bed. I wanna see it for myself.”
Yoongi, the florist next door, falls for the already-smitten-with-him high school student, Y/N. but for her, is loving him a sin? how does her world crumble when her elder brother comes to know of their forbidden relationship?
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pairing: florist!yoongi x female reader
rating [over the series]: explicit | 🔞
word count: 6.7k [for this part]
genre/au: smut/fluff/angst, porn with plot | flower shop au
warnings [over the series]: age difference (not too much but still uncomfortable for some readers), loss of virginity and innocence, hickeys, shameless smut, voyeurism (both accidental and intentional), dark and tragic themes, outdated and conservative school of thought, yandere! (kind of), this screams bad!
a/n: originally posted to my wattpad, and ao3. slightly rewritten.
my first het fanfic ever (actually started January, 2021). this might be shitty so reader discretion is advised.
the pov of the o/c is that of an eighteen year old, and hence she sounds innocent when she’s doing the narration.
also, this fic has been split into parts and has been written in the first person pov, which is alternately of the female reader, and that of Yoongi. links to the different parts can be accessed via my masterlist!
ao3 | wattpad
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01/25/2021
4.21 PM
The wind is at its most freezing levels as I make my way to Yoongi's shop gingerly, hands shoved inside the pockets of my school blazer. The afternoon sun would be down soon and darkness would follow, but I don't let that fact bother me a bit. I find my thoughts drifting off to the warmth of my beau's touch, and I find that warmth to be warmer than any sort of physical warmth that can provide me respite from the biting cold.
Ringing the copper bell that adorns the door, I push the glass door to the flower shop open. The heat from the thermostat suddenly hits my ice cold legs, and that blast is more than welcome. My eyes search for Yoongi, whom I find slurping noodles at his desk.
"Hey...!" He stands up from his chair with a start, wiping off the soupy remnants of his meal from the corners of his lips with the back of his hand.
I glance at his lunchbox. "Hey, you can finish your lunch first...I can wait if you want me to."
"That is not an issue at all, Y/N. After all you don't come here everyday, or rather, you can't." The smile on his face is warm, just like the sun.
I lower my head. "Eat, Yoon."
The shy tenor of my voice coupled with the use of a shorter, cuter version of his name makes the grin on his face spread wider. "If you do that to me, I would never disobey you."
He goes back to his lunch. I lean forward against his desk and keep myself content by just watching him eat. How can a human being look so graceful when he is eating?
"So..." I attempt to start a conversation. "You're eating lunch this late?"
"Unfortunately, yes." He looks up at me with his catlike eyes, the pair of chopsticks poised in his hands. "I have been real busy all day today. As if by a miracle, our shop was blessed with a lot of visitors, and some of them even stayed here in the lunch hour." He shrugs.
I nod my head. "Does Jungkook help you everyday?"
"He runs errands for me mostly, but when there is a hell lot of work, like there was today, yeah he was here to help." He finished eating the rest of his noodles and drank the soup from the bowl.
"If you could just excuse me for a minute, I will be back soon. I have got to wash my hands and my mouth." He disappears behind the huge dark curtains at the back of the shop.
When he returns (which is not much later) his lips have a soft pinkish tint of lip balm, shining in the shop lighting, and he smells of chocolate perfume. Yum, honey got a sugar-sweet makeover.
Sugar...Suga!
"Can I call you Suga?" I shoot the question at him.
He chuckles, and that sound is the sweetest I have ever heard.
"Why?"
"You smell of chocolate which reminds me of sweets, sweets are sweet and sweet means sugar."
His eyes widen in surprise, followed by a soft, musical chuckle. "How the hell could you come up with that?"
"It's funny how you find this shocking." I giggle, tapping the back of his hand. "Girls have the cutest brains, you have got to acknowledge this fact."
"For sure." He shakes his head with a disbelieving smile on his lips. "Anyways, you mentioned my perfume. Do you like it?"
"I love it!" I almost holler. He chuckles, yet again.
"Someone's way too excited." He comments. I roll my eyes at him.
"Hey!" He exclaims. "Ain't no eye-rolling when you're with me."
"Yeah, right." I attempt another eye-roll just to piss him off, but he is quicker. He pulls me closer to his warm body, and begins stroking the strands of my hair with one hand. His other hand finds purchase on my lower lip, his thick thumb caressing it gently, as if it were made of glass and he was careful not to shatter it, not to lose something he considers to be so precious to his heart, to his existence in itself.
I want to lose myself in the heavenly warmth of his body, wanting to stay wrapped in it until eternity. Until one of us has to go, far away from the other, to the land which is inhabited by none other than the beautiful angels singing praises of the Lord. Paradise, they call it.
"I love you." He whispers into my ear, his hot breath hitting the nape of my neck and clouding my senses with pleasure.
Being so lost in the heat of the moment, I let out the smallest of moans before I pull his head down until our lips are at the same level. His eyes are fixed onto my lips, and my eyes on his. He licks his lip in the most sensual way imaginable, before proceeding to fill the distance between us, wrapping me in the softest of kisses. 
The feel of his lips on mine is by the far the best feeling I have ever felt, and I really love how every time he kisses me feels like it is the first, like it is new and fresh as morning dew.
His hands tentatively trickle down my spine, but he thinks the better of it and removes it from just above where my ass begins. His hands instead choose to trace small circles on the back of my hand, and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.
After a few moments of us being intertwined thus, he pulls away in the softest way, as if I were made of glass and not of flesh and bone. He smiles at me, full of the warmth and optimism that he radiated in large quantities from his being. I smile back.
Just at that moment, Jungkook bursts in through the door.
"Heyo, what's up?" He smirks. "Why are you guys literally throwing yourself on each others' bodies?"
"Mood." Yoongi answers for both of us, stoically. A sudden change from his happy, sugary countenance less than half a minute ago.
Jungkook approaches to where I am standing. Yoongi grips my forearm tightly and eyes him with a suspicious look, which does not seem to affect Jungkook in the slightest way.
"Hey, Y/N!" He offers his hand. I reluctantly shake it. He chuckles, then turning his head to face Yoongi, says, "Your lady is a shy, good girl."
Yoongi simply rolls his eyes, now a little bit less sus, and his deathly look starts melting away bit by bit.
A brief pause. The air is rather awkward.
"I told you, didn't I? I knew you were falling for him." Jungkook grins slyly.
I actually can't figure out how to react to what he just said, except for just giving him a basic, kinda shy smile. Seeing me inept with handling the situation, Yoongi comes to my rescue.
"Yeah, she has fallen. Now let us be at peace." His tone is dry. Absolutely no tonal inflection to match the weight of the words spoken.
"Sure, why not? I just dropped by to get some money. Gotta spend it on a new hairdo that I fancy a lot. Want me to get some stuff for you, hyung?" Jungkook walks over to the cash register.
"Maybe some good old ramen noodles? And a bottle of some fine Scotch, Gguk. It just never goes wrong. Ever." Yoongi answers.
For a while it seems that my presence there has been forgotten.
Jungkook keys in the code to unlock the cash register. "Sure, hyung. If you promise to share the drink with me." He counts some notes and takes them out of their enclosure.
"I would, if you don't get drunk too easily and start babbling utter nonsense." Yoongi giggles, rather cutely.
"I wouldn't, hyung. Why don't you ever let me grow up? I am twenty two and you still don't let me drink." Jungkook pouts at the elder.
"The last time I permitted you to drink, you-"
Jungkook waves his arms frantically in the air to cut his elder brother off. "What, hyung? You can't humiliate me, and that too, in front of her!" He points at me, panting hard.
The corners of my lips curve up into a smile, rather at ease by now, as both of them break into a fit of uncontrolled laughter.
"Okay, Jungkook. Now let us be." Yoongi is the first to sober up.
"Yeah, sure. Bye!" He waves at both of us, grabbing the cash and running out of the glass door. Yoongi turns to smile at me.
"He is quite an actor." He shakes his head a few times disapprovingly before fixing me with a sexy look. "Shall we continue with what we were doing?" He smirks.
"Why not?" I answer shyly, biting my lip. This diverts his attention to my lips, on which he puts his thick thumb, his other fingers gripping the side of my jaw. I close my eyes softly, enjoying his careful touch.
He gently slides his index finger inside my mouth, trying to push its way in impatiently. "Suck it." His deep, rather hoarse voice ups my arousal by a thousand notches.
I comply, letting his finger settle deeper, closing my mouth around it and covering it with slobber. He moves it slowly inside my mouth, urging me wordlessly to begin sucking at it.
Obeying his command, I pucker my lips and swirl my tongue around his digit, providing just the right amount of pressure to suck. Once I discover my pace, I continue with it rhythmically, and look up at Yoongi's face just to see him lost. Lost in the pleasure I am giving him. He is biting at his lower lip while his expression is that of mild ecstasy, and I fall in love with that look. It makes me more determined to give him the best pleasure I possibly can. 
He lets go with a low moan. I exhale slowly, his finger leaving a taste in my mouth I can never forget. I collect some spit from the corners of my mouth and swallow all that I can, savoring the flavor of his skin, the way it made me feel...
"That was just like how my baby would do." Yoongi breaks the chain of my thoughts, biting his lip, then smirking at me. "The best."
"Ummm...thanks?" I reply, unsure of whether to thank him or was that a compliment or I metaphorically sucked at literally sucking or if I am not really his type or...yada yada yada. 
Great, I am now babbling in my thoughts. Talk about coherence. And clear heads. Jeez, I am internally NOT alright!
"Y/N..." He again interrupts the train of my thoughts that is chugging along rather haphazardly, and rather rapidly. "You don't quite look ‘in the mood’, is there anything that is bothering with you? You can tell me, I don't bite." He then giggles one of those cute giggles of his that makes me forget the fact that anyone besides him and I exists in this world.
"Nothing's wrong, Suga. It's just that, I was wondering if I didn't quite, you know, please you in what we were doing just a minute ago..."
"Seriously?" He makes a disapproving face. "And that is bothering you?"
"Yeah, it is. Sorta..." I mumble a reply.
"You were amazing. Trust me when I say that." He smiles warmly at me.
Little fireworks of joy burst inside of my heart as a smile finds its way to my lips. "Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me for appreciating you, you know. You're my love, honey. And everything that you do to make me happy is worth infinite tokens of appreciation."
Oh my God.
"I really am glad I make you feel like that..." I mumble, awkwardness dripping from my voice. I am bad with words, give me a break!
"Yeah, it truly is great, this feeling of being loved." He affirms.
"I cannot agree with you more."
We stand in comfortable silence for a while. Me, hands tucked inside of the pockets of my school blazer while being caught up with tasting the last of his flavor from my tongue. Him, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek while he is staring into the distance, deep in thought.
"Y/N..." He breaks the silence. "What are we?"
"As in?" I cock an eyebrow.
"As in us...? Being together, you coming here to meet me, us getting somewhat intimate at times...?"
"Is this intimacy?" I giggle. He smiles.
"The beginning of it. But you didn't answer my question."
"I don't know...whatever you would like to call us, maybe?"
"No. I want you to tell me. Nobody else. And I, most definitely, can’t answer this."
"I don't know honestly...you are my boyfriend, I am your girlfriend? Like that, kinda...?"
"Yeah, like that." He nods his head in agreement. "I too was thinking on the same lines, but I wasn't so sure about how and what you felt about me."
"Well, now you know." I shrug. I glance at my wristwatch. 5.00 PM.
Shit, I might be late for home today.
"I think I have got to go home now, Yoon." I turn to him.
"So soon?" He pouts. "Can't you stay a wee bit longer?"
"I-"
"Pretty please, Y/N?" He asks me, all cute and puppy eyed.
"I...okay." I bite my lip thinking of how pissed Taehyung is going to be with me once I get back home. He is pretty much going to put me to death, I am sure of that. His doubts are going to be so hard to dispel...and if looks could kill! I would have to figure out ways to enter the apartment entirely unnoticed.
My mind being on overdrive mode, it is unable to detect the presence of Yoongi's hand on the small of my back. It is only when he grabs my ass lightly do I get to know he has sneaked up close to me from behind, wanting more access.
His hands slither up my spine and slide to the front, stopping just below the bikini line. Startled at his audacious touch but too lost in the moment to resist it, I neither encourage nor discourage his actions. Seeing that there isn't going to be an ounce of resistance from my side, his hands slowly work their way up to my breasts, squeezing them lightly, making me moan. 
I manage to stutter in the midst of being overwhelmed by his touch and the dirtiness of it all. "Suga, I h-have got t-to go home!"
His voice rings through my ears in a floating whisper. "But I want to kiss you and kiss you all day long...kiss you so hard, until your lips fall off."
That is my breaking point.
For sure.
Definitely.
My muscles loosen up a little as I again submit to his actions. He resumes the dirty things he has been doing, his large hands kneading my breasts with their strong grip. And I, quite explicably, moan, much to his glee.
I need to weather this storm. I need to resist this feeling that is holding me back here, this damned feeling of animalistic pleasure that I am seeking.
But this is what I want, don't I? This proximity is what I have daydreamed about to a large extent. Th wicked fantasies that my brain has been cooking up for me.
But I have got to go home!!! Taehyung will beat the shit out of me.
This internal conflict, it's frustrating.
"Yoongi!" I try again. He leaves the pursuit of my body this time. Without a word, his hands drop to the sides of both of his legs. I look at him nervously. Did I just make him angry? Or upset?
He breathes out heavily. His breath comes out more hitched than he intended it to come out as.
"Bye, Y/N..." He says, in the lowest and the sexiest pitch he can manage.
"Bye, Suga." I bite my lower lip instinctively, his voice having weaved its alluring magic, making me feel a warmth that is not so familiar, in between my legs. I squeeze my thighs shut together while earnestly praying to God that he doesn't notice how turned on I am right now.
Me biting my lower lip makes his gaze lowers down to my lips, naturally. He closes his eyes for a bit and his beautifully formed rose-tinted lips part slightly. Thank God he didn't notice. Or, did he?
"I love it when you call me Suga." He opens his eyes, lips still parted, gaze again lowering down to my lips. I smile in response, basking in his appreciation of my ingenuity.
"You know what..." He inches closer. "I really want to do something to you." A smirk creeps up onto his lips. I feel my core throb again. The power of his words. Words, mere words, making me this uncontrollably wet.
He brings his hand close to my face. He grabs my jaw with his one hand and yanks my face closer to him. He lets his free hand roam along my facial features, tracing my lips with his long and slender fingers. I squeeze my eyes shut, readying myself for the entirely new feeling that is about to overwhelm my senses. The feeling of his lips on mine. My first wet kiss.
He lowers his lips to meet mine. Our lips lock instantly. He cups my face between his large hands and deepens the kiss. I, having had no prior experience in the wet kissing department, simply try to imitate his movements, reciprocating the kiss. This results in the kiss getting more heated, and Yoongi slides his tongue in. I gulp as I wrap my lips around his long tongue, sucking onto the muscular organ. After a while Yoongi lets out a moan as he pulls away, caressing the strands of my hair in the most gentle way possible.
He looks at me lovingly for a long moment, hands up on my waist. I look back into his eyes, returning the same expression as much as possible. "I have been wanting to do this with you since forever... this was just wonderful!" He whispers, licking his lips. I let out a low-pitched giggle. 
"Not gonna lie, it was."
I turn to leave. It's too late already, and Taehyung must be worrying his ass out. Yoongi opens the exit door for me, and I smile at him, notwithstanding the sudden burst of cold air that shakes me out of the pleasant state I am in as soon as I step out.
5.37 PM
"Where were you?" Taehyung opens the door in a flash of lightning. I back off startled. The look on his face spells he is not in the mood for chit chat. He doesn't even look like he will ask me how my school was, or how much I scored in a certain class test. Nor does it seem like he will give me today's lunch. I have legitimately pissed him off.
"I was...at an extra class." I blurt out a lie.
"Unbelievable." He leans against the doorframe, not letting me in. "You're not into any extra curricular activities, or after school clubs." He eyes me suspiciously.
"I'll explain everything at length once you let me in." I make a pouty face, begging for him to let me in. He, quite reluctantly, steps away from the doorframe. I walk in. He locks the door shut.
"I smell a very male scent." He sniffs into the air surrounding me. He leans closer to my face. "Cologne, a very good one at that." He raises his eyebrows. "Were you out there wilding with some guy?"
"First up, don't get too sniffy. You're making me uncomfortable." I step backwards a little. He straightens up, mumbling a "sure". I look back into his accusing eyes and start. "I hope you won't say you can smell male saliva on my lips..." 
"I was not gonna say that. I can't just imagine it in the most horrific of my nightmares." He furrows his head a bit. "Wait a minute. Are you suggesting you kissed-"
"Uff no, please! I just felt I could feed the fire of your stupid thoughts by uttering nonsense-"
"I'm serious, Y/N. Where were you all this time?" He cuts me off, scowling.
"Like I said, I was at an extra class." I lie again, a little emboldened by having to repeat it.
"What extra class?"
"Creative writing. They decided to keep me in to practice for it. The English teacher wants me to participate in an inter-school contest." I finish my cooked-up story, which is half-true anyway.
He eyes me from head to toe, then sniffs again. "I have no reason to not believe you." He pauses. "But what about this perpetual male scent emanating from your body?"
"I really don't know how to explain your hallucinations, Tae. You know, I am not the dating type. I won't ever get a boy." I smile, before grabbing my clothes and entering the shower.
2021/01/26
8.45 AM
"Kim Y/N...could you come to the blackboard and show us the reaction of acid chlorides with organocadmium compounds?" He sits down on top of the teacher's table, getting a better view of our class, and fixes his eyes onto mine.
I stand up from my chair. "Sure, Mister Park." Thankfully I had revised the portions yesterday night.
I approach the blackboard and hold my palm out for the white piece of chalk. "Do I have to draw the diagrams as well?"
"Organic Chemistry is incomplete without drawing the diagrams of the mechanisms involved." He drops the chalk on my hand, without letting our skin make contact.
"Okay, Mister Park."
I finish the said work and glance at him for his approval. He nods his head in the affirmative before asking me a question for follow up. "What is the functional group of the product formed in the reaction with organometallics?"
“The ketonic functional group. Ketones are formed from the given reaction.”
"Very well done, Y/N." He runs his hand through his thick, gorgeous blond hair before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "Learn from her, you stupid bunch of idiots." He chuckles before nodding at me again. "Go back to your seat, now."
He stands up, grabbing the chalk I had left at the edge of his table. "Now, class! I have a trick question for you. Anyone who thinks they can take up the challenge?"
The students start murmuring amongst themselves, obviously getting worked up with anticipation. A student sitting on one of the benches in the first row accepts the challenge.
"May I, Mister Park?" He shoots his hand up, rather excitedly.
"Why not?" The teacher gestures for him to come to the blackboard, a smirk plastered on the luscious lips that adorn his handsome face. "If you are able to answer the question correctly, I won't give you guys homework for a week. If you're not able to, then I will give you all a whole set of assignments that you will have to complete along with the regular homework."
The class gasps collectively. Muffled voices beseech him to answer correctly.
Mister Park turns to face the blackboard, a hand tucked in the pocket of his tight blue jeans while writing at the board with the other. He keeps the guy standing for a while as he draws a few diagrams of some compounds before turning to face him.
"Can you tell me which one of these four is an aromatic compound?"
The guy pretends to think for a while before replying, rather hastily. "Cyclopentane."
The teacher rolls his eyes. "Should I give him one more chance?" He looks at the sea of students in front of him; which is staring at him with large, pleading eyes.
"Please give him one more chance, Mister Park." A tiny, scared voice replies from the back of the class.
"Okay, granted." The teacher nods at the helpless guy who, by now, has turned quite nervous and fidgety. "Gave you another chance."
The boy speaks slowly this time. "Trioxane."
I sigh. Wrong answer, we are basically fucked now.
"Nah." Mister Park shakes his head. "You guys aren't doing the required revision, are you?" He speaks to all of us before chastising the boy. "The only admirable thing here is that you were audacious enough to volunteer without even knowing the answer. Hats off to your balls, bruh." He looks visibly irritated. Grabbing the white piece of limestone, he scribbles the answer, benzene, on the blackboard, as the bell rings signaling the end of the class.
"You all will get the first assignment in the email today." He looks at the boy, who is still standing there. "And you, you'll come to the next class of mine tomorrow with the proper explanation as to why the answer was benzene."
As soon as the teacher leaves the room a backbencher, shouts out to the guy who gave the wrong answer. "Meet me after school today, you son of the bitchy-est bitch to have ever existed on Earth! I will kick your balls."
"Yeah, because of him we will have to do extra work." A girl too echoes her disappointment.
The guy cowers behind the door to the room as the said boy’s friends come to attack him.
4.27 PM
"Don't you think you are a little late today?" Yoongi stands up from his chair as soon as I enter his shop.
"Not much." I answer, a bit wearily, placing my backpack on the top of his desk.
"You are six minutes late."
"Gosh, you're too observant!" I exclaim before continuing with what I was saying. "We just got loaded with tons of extra homework." 
"That's sad." Yoongi shuffles his feet. "But don't you think that on the brighter side of things, you would get to practice more, and become much, much better at Chem?"
"Yeah, I know. But I was expecting some support for my rant." I roll my eyes.
He giggles, and his eyes twinkle with glee.
"Oh, Y/N! I just attempted to divert your attention to something that I knew you would overlook, in this unfounded bout of rage."
"And what is that?"
"That is left for you to notice." He fumbles with the shining golden watch on his wrist.
"Is that the change you're talking about?" I point at his watch, which is undoubtedly a work of art.
"Actually, no. Even though I bought this online just yesterday." He licks his lips. "This wasn't what I wanted you to notice." He shrugs.
"Let's just talk about something else until the change finally kicks in." I shrug back in response.
"That's a good idea." He nods his head, lowering it for the briefest of moments before his eyes again begin to twinkle, meeting mine, flickering like the flame of a candle. "What is your phone number?"
"Why?" I shriek, voice coming out to be octaves higher than I had intended it to be.
"What's wrong?" He cocks an eyebrow, voice mixed with a tinge of worry.
"Oh, nothing. It's just that, no guy has ever asked for my number before." I gulp slowly, before opening my mouth this time. "Sorry for overreacting." I make a sheepish expression.
"It's fine, babe. You're gonna give me your number or do I-"
"Sure, sure. I will do it. Give me a small chit of paper, I will jot my number down for you." I bite my lip.
"Yeah, wait." He goes back to his desk, rummages through the many sheets of paper kept inside one of the drawers, and emerges with a pastel green colored one.
"I asked for a chit, Suga. You turned up with a whole page?" I crack an amused smile.
"I'd prefer to keep your handwriting, your mark, preserved with me for posterity." He shrugs, his teeth biting onto the seemingly and actually soft, rose tinted lips of his that I have grown to love so much.
I smile at this, a shy one, and grab the piece of paper from him. I write my number onto the sheet with the most beautiful handwriting I can manage. Since he is going to keep it with him forever, as he says.
He looks on as I write. "Your handwriting is simply marvelous." Observant, but maybe not sincere.
"Thank you, Suga." I mouth, biting back a grin that is hell-bent on showing itself on my face.
I hand him the sheet, and his long fingers teasingly glide against the back of my hand. "I will keep this safe with me, forever."
"Forever." I echo what he says. To me, the sound of this word is the most melodious I have ever heard.
Together forever, you and I.
He takes his phone out of the pocket of his cream colored coat and saves my contact.
"Now, won't you kiss me?" He licks his lips again, a clever side-smile lingering at the corners of his cushiony pair.
"Why will I not?" I pull him closer, and he glides across to me effortlessly, his beady brown eyes sparkling and lips shining with moisture.
And we kiss. Softly at first, before ending up with him biting my lower lip gingerly. He pulls away ever so lightly, and plants soft butterfly kisses to my jawline.
When he is finally done, he looks straight into my eyes, his own pair dark with lust.
"The last time you were here, was it too much for you?"
"Nothing is ever too much between us, Yoonie." I return his look. “You don't know how much you turned me on with that move, grabbing at my chest like that, damn. I found myself thinking about that rough move all night, I couldn't sleep. I really wanted you, fuck it, I needed you there, on my bed. Right next to me. We would have done things...sorry...” My hand flies to my mouth, followed by a gasp. “I didn't realize I got this far.”
He gapes at me, an open-mouthed expression on his face, before he cups my face in his hands, roughly. Just as I like it.
And that's when I notice it, silver hoop earrings dangling from his ears.
Bejeweled men are just so sexy. A unanimous opinion.
"These earrings." I whisper. "Are those the change you were talking about?"
"Yes." He bites his lip, rather sensually, too hot for people to be unaffected by the gesture. "You noticed it correctly. You'll get your treat now."
I close my eyes as I revel in the proximity between us. His hot breath hits the cold skin of my neck like a powerful gunshot, designed to kill.
"Why is that every time you confess, you arouse me? Little by little, until I think I am going to lose my shit?" 5140
His lips latch themselves to my earlobe. "I love how your skin tastes..."
He groans.
"...it's so hot behind your ear, it seems as if you just stepped out of a volcano." He chuckles at his own joke.
I don't find it funny. My temperature has risen, my hair is standing on its end. I am just so nervous, and this proximity coupled with my aching desire to know what treat he has in store for me is doing nothing better to ease this tension.
From the looks of it, the treat, the surprise, is going to be an interesting one. A pleasurable one, if I have to be honest and frank.
Him biting hard into my earlobe brings me back to the present. "Aaahh~" A sound that seems to be a cross between a yelp of pain and a moan emanates from my mouth.
"That's punishment. Punishment for distracting me from the task at hand whenever you drop by."
"What?-" I give out a surprised cry that is silenced, soon enough, by him smashing his lips onto mine. The kiss is passionate and rough, and he immediately shoves his tongue in, exploring the insides of my mouth with the manner of a certain dominance that makes me feel wetter down there. His hands trickle down my spine, gripping my waist hard, and he picks me up, seating me down onto his desk.
His strength turns me on.
"You want more of that, don't you?" Yoongi asks, sliding in between my legs, eyes so dark they match the shade of the black curtains behind his desk. "More of the stuff I did with your chest yesterday, don't you?"
And he doesn't let me answer, because he knows I don't need to. The way I am panting, so hard, each one of my inner feelings must have been served on a plate for him right now.
His long fingers that just never seem to be losing their seductive appeal trace their way up my spine, slipping to the front just at the place he feels my breasts would be.
And he is right.
His fingers pick up pace, now latching onto my breasts, and giving them little squeezes with both of his warm hands. He groans.
My breath comes out as hitched, as it should, and Yoongi making sounds he shouldn't doesn't help better the situation much. Lost in the heat of the moment, I loop my legs around his body, snaking my arms around his neck, thus pulling him closer...
This chest-to-chest contact was inevitable, anyway.
...the sound of my small-ish moans fills the room, and all this physical contact combined with the auditory aspect of it all arouses both of us more to a huge extent.
His hands remove themselves from my chest all of a sudden. I am about to whimper in protest when suddenly he places his hand underneath my dress skirt.
I widen my eyes at him.
He lifts my skirt up, revealing my inner thighs, and starts rubbing the soft flesh. His hands slither up and up my leg, stopping just below where my panties start. And this, for sure, is a new feeling.
He grabs my thigh, kneading the flesh. And it's a good feeling. Sorta like, the train of pleasure chugging away...that I never want to stop. Ever.
"Do you want me to give you a gift?" He asks. His hands cease rubbing.
I pout before answering. "That depends on what you plan to give me. Plus I didn't want you to stop..."
"Don't get pissed, my girl." He smirks, while letting his hands slither slowly in an upward direction, up my torso. "What do you think about hickeys?"
"Hickeys?" I echo his word, eyelids shut, partly lost in the way he is making me feel. "They're cool, but what if my brother accidentally gets to see them on my neck? I will be roast meat."
"Fuck, didn't think about that." He tut-tuts, letting me go rather hastily. He feigns thinking for a while, before adding. "I was talking about giving you that gift. The gift of love bites."
I sigh, long and deep. Getting physical sure does take a toll on you.
"I think...it would be great! I will just probably have to wear a scarf round my neck for the few days they’re on, but to think I'll be getting bitten by you...my love...I am on."
He smiles; a cute, gummy one; after a long period of time. "So...come closer, honey. Want you by my side right now."
I lean in, closer. He lifts me off of his desk.
He smirks. "My girl needs me, doesn't she?" He brushes a stray lock of hair off of my eyes.
"Yeah, she does. Kiss my neck now." I pull at the collar of his coat.
"Patience, babe, slow down. All in good time." He says, tongue pressed firmly against the side of his cheek. He seems to be contemplating something...
I make another pouty face.
...and there he is. Within femtoseconds he leans in, hands tightly holding my waist, smashing his lips onto my jawline. His kisses are pretty rapid but tender at the same time, replete with slobber, and it's not until when I feel a string of saliva trickling down my chin do I realize how wet a situation I have gotten myself into. Both down there, and on my face.
His hands move up a little, and slide underneath my dress shirt, engulfing my naked, cold torso in their wake.
And it's definitely more than I can bear. There's a weak feeling in my knees, and it seems as if they would give way any moment, succumbing to the desire building up inside of me.
"More, Yoonie!" I cry out, wanting him to go where he had initially proposed to go. "Touch me right there, baby...on my n-"
His lips unlatch themselves from my jaw and smash instead onto my lips. A hot kiss follows. "You can't tell me what to do. Beg for it." His cat eyes stare right into my soul.
The fuck?
"I said beg for it!" He grabs hold of my breasts and squeezes them harshly.
This dominant side of his, this rough behavior...why can't he fucking take my virginity too?
"Please bite my neck, Yoongi! Please!" I scream.
He growls. "Just like that, Y/N."
And he proceeds to reward me with the prize. With the treat he has been enticing me for.
Biting at the skin of my neck as softly as he possibly can, his pearly white set of teeth gnashing themselves against the folds of my skin, he moans as well. And the vibrations set me off to another level of pleasure.
A few minutes later, he is still doing his.
Kissing, sucking and biting at my neck. And funnily enough I don't want him to do anything else but me.
The dirtiness of the activities I have indulged in, because of his beautiful body luring me into the entrapment of sin, does make me pause and think. From hiding secrets from a close person to losing yourself in this endless quagmire of lust...I am required to choose my pick. And here I am, having decided to give my everything to him, my Yoongi.
But what about virginity?!
It's a totally different avenue of thought, so I'd think about it later.
It does hurt. His teeth biting like pincers on the sensitive skin of my neck, even though he is at his gentle best. After a while he pulls away, wrapping his arms around me tighter, and focusing on the imprints he has made on my neck. A triumphant smile crosses his face.
"I have marked you mine." He asserts, his already pale face now glowing with glee.
I run my hand on the prints. "Gonna take a lot of effort to hide it, would this?"
"No need to get paranoid over it, goes away in a week or two."
"A week or two? You're telling me this shit takes a fucking week or two to disappear?"
He chuckles. "That is for if you wait for it to go on its own. If you care for it or something then maybe it'd take a lesser amount of time."
And that's followed by a shrug.
"Fuck it, I'd just wear a scarf all the time. As it is, it's the winters, and we need...okay, not really need, but you know, nobody would come whooping my ass if I wear a scarf in temperatures so frigid we get chilled to the bone." I too shrug.
He chuckles, again. The cutest, most musical sound on Earth.
"You know, for a girl you do swear a lot."
"What's wrong with swearing? It's just a way of expression...like I'm feeling myself or something."
This makes him chuckle harder.
"You know what? The hickeys on your skin look so good...pink and purple stains in a sea of white..." His lips curve into a knowing smirk.
My hands again feel the marks he has made. It does hurt. A bit, that is. I mean, it's tolerable, to an extent. But it hurts.
"Want me to drop you home?" The long digits of his hand start rubbing circles on the back of my hand, as his eyes gleam in the shop lighting.
"I can go by myself, you know. I am already too late, and if I turn up with a guy it will certainly set my brother off."
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go1denjeon · 8 days ago
Text
All Too Well (The Complete Story)
Current Word Count: 15.2k 
summary: a short miniseries based upon all too well (ten minute version) (taylor’s version) (from the vault) (the short film) featuring min yoongi. 
pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader
disclaimer: this story is fiction. it does not reflect the min yoongi in any shape of form. this story includes age gap (9 years), strong language, smut (but not really descriptive) and angst. i suggest listening to all too well while reading this. also, i’m sorry but i just couldn’t keep this in any longer. i’ve always wanted to write a fanfic about this song because it’s been a favorite of mine ever since its original release and AAAAA here i go. it’s gonna be a miniseries styled as a oneshot, based upon the order in the short film. 
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An Upstate Escape
When Min Yoongi told you that he had a month all to himself, you couldn’t believe your ears. First, you thought you just misheard him. Second, you thought it was a prank—something one of the boys had dared him to do. But when he clarified it to you for the third time, you felt like your face was splitting in half for how huge your smile was. You literally screamed in delight, causing your neighbor to yell at you from the other side of the thin walls to shut up. That didn’t deter you from continuing to dance around your room as you listened to Yoongi telling you to pack some clothes because you and him were heading to his sister’s house over the weekend. Even then, as you were packing, you couldn’t believe it.
With Yoongi’s job, it was rare to have him to yourself for a whole day. It would usually just be for a couple hours but you treasured every moment. You knew what you were signing up for when you began dating Min Yoongi also known as Suga from BTS. You knew that you would never get to experience the typical dates that your friends were having with their significant others. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to post the pictures you took of you and him on your social media nor were you able to shout in the world that you were with him. You knew that you could only love him in secret but that never deterred you from loving him like he was an oath. You understood why—while they were the biggest band in the world, nothing was guaranteed. It was a sad reality but the attachment of their fans to them was still there and they were not immune to the dating curse that plagued the Kpop industry.
For you, as long as you knew that he loved you and you loved him—you were okay with your relationship. You couldn’t and wouldn’t ask for more.
When the day came and you saw him standing outside of your apartment door, you practically leapt into his arms. It had been so long since the last time you saw him and you missed him terribly. Yoongi chuckled, holding you just as tight and placing a soft kiss on your cheek. He had helped you carry your suitcase to his car and to your surprise, on the drive towards his sister’s house, he stopped at McDonald’s drive thru for breakfast. It made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy because you never really imagined it to happen while you were with Yoongi. The both of you were wearing masks as he told the employee your orders and all throughout, he didn’t let go of your hand. You felt like you were going to combust. This was the first time he held your hand in public.
He didn’t let go even when you continued on the drive there and you didn’t complain. The two of you caught up with each other’s life while soft music was playing in the background. Although the ride there was long, none of you were tired or showed any signs that you were. When there was nothing left to talk about, both of you simply enjoyed the silence.
It was late in the afternoon when you arrived at his sister’s house. The property was marvelous. Yoongi had said the entire property, including the lake, was his sister’s and his brother-in-law’s and it was huge. The path leading to the house was coated in autumn leaves, making it look like it was an entrance to a new realm. Tall trees surrounded the area with birds chirping every now and then, pouring a sense of serenity in your system. When Yoongi parked his car in front of the big white house, a smile immediately formed on your face when you saw his sister, her husband and their two children—one girl, one boy—waiting by the front porch. You looked at Yoongi and felt your heart clench at the sight of him having the biggest smile on his face.
“We’re here, babe.” He said, letting go of your hand for the first time as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
You nodded, following his actions. He was the first to get out of the car and you chuckled at the sight of Min Yoongi running towards his nephew and niece with a huge grin on his face and his arms opened widely. He was seriously cute. Stepping out of the car, you were met by his sister, Yoona. “Y/N, it’s good to see you again. It’s been so long.” She pulled you into a warm embrace and you hugged her back. She smelled like apples and caramel. When she pulled away, her hands remained on your shoulders as she stared at you lovingly. “You’re so beautiful. I missed you so much, Y/N.”
You blushed. Min Yoona had to be the most beautiful person you laid your eyes on. She was already in her mid-thirties but she looked like she hadn’t aged a day. If you were to look at her face closely under a microscope, you were sure you wouldn’t find one wrinkle or blemish. She was that gorgeous. But that was just her physical trait—on the inside, Min Yoona was beautiful too. She was kind, empathetic and accepting of everyone. You remembered the first time you met her—you and Yoongi were only dating for three months then—and you were nervous the entire ride to Daegu where you spent your first Christmas with the Mins. It wasn’t just because you’ll be meeting Yoongi’s family but also, you felt self-conscious about the nine-year age gap between the two of you.
Throughout the ride, you were thinking of the worst case scenario but Yoongi kept reassuring you that his family won’t find it weird or unusual and that they were going to love you.
And he was right.
You didn’t have bad memories that night. You got along well with his parents and most especially Yoona who had taken the opportunity of you slicing the cake in the kitchen to tell you that she liked you a lot for Yoongi and to not let the age gap get in the way of anything.
“I missed you too, unnie.” You told her, caressing her arms.
“Noona! Y/N! Come here.” Yoongi called.
You and Yoona laughed, walking arm-in-arm towards your respective spouses. You greeted Jaesung, Yoona’s husband with a hug, and let yourself be tackled to the ground by Rowoo and Rohyun who peppered you with kisses. Yoongi and Jaesung pulled them from you, the former securing an arm around your waist. You tilted your head to face him and while Yoongi never really liked to show affection in public, something compelled him to place a kiss on your lips.
Rowoo and Rohyun squealed in disgust, covering each other’s eyes. You were so red and so hot. You couldn’t even look at Yoona and Jaesung who were grinning.
They invited you both to their house and with their backs turned, you softly hit Yoongi’s chest. “What was that, Min Yoongi?”
“What? I can’t kiss you?” He asked innocently, a small smirk forming on the corner of his lips.
“Are you real?” You suddenly found yourself asking as the two of you reached the front porch of the house.
“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion.
You placed a hand on his cheek—it was warm in contrast to your cold palm. “Sometimes, I feel like I just made you up.” You told him, barely above a whisper as you stared into his eyes. Those eyes.
Min Yoongi grabbed your hand, placed a kiss on your knuckles as he told you, “I’m real and I’m all yours and I’m going to show it to you—but first, we have to get through dinner with my sister and her family.” He cheekily smiled and you laughed, throwing your head back as he led the both of you inside the cozy home.
-
While the men prepared dinner, you and Yoona began setting up the table.
“It’s really great to have you both here, Y/N.” Yoona said, placing the utensils beside the plates you had just set up.
“I’m really happy to be here too, unnie. It’s been so long.” You said, moving around the table to place the low bowl on top of each plate.
She nodded. “Yeah. The last time I saw you together was last year during Christmas, right? Then, after that, Yoongi went on tour and I haven’t seen either of you since. You should come by sometimes, Y/N. Even if it’s just you.”
You sent her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, unnie. Things have just been hectic since it’s my second year in college already.”
“God, that fast, huh?” She commented and you nodded. “I hope you’re having a great time there too. College was one of the best moments in my life, you know.”
“Really, unnie? Wait, you have a degree in interior design, right?” You clarified and she confirmed with a nod. “Well, I can definitely say that it shows with how amazing your home is.”
“Thank you, Y/N.” Yoona said with a little laugh. “It was so stressful putting all these together. I remember it being one of the big fights Jaesung and I had.”
You were finished with your part in setting the table and so, you stopped at the head and tilted your head to the side as you asked, “Really? What happened, unnie?”
“Well, I really wanted the house to be perfect. I guess, you can say that perfectionism runs in our blood. I know Yoongi can be a pain in the ass because of it, don’t try to cover for him.” Yoona playfully scolded you and you raised your hands up in defense. You both chuckled. “Anyways, right. I wanted our house to be perfect so I got really engrossed in making that happen. But of course I wanted Jaesung’s input too ‘cos this isn’t just my house, it’s ours. But, God, he wasn’t giving me anything. He would just say, “Whatever you like, honey.” or “If that’s what you want, babe, go for it.” It was infuriating so one day, while we were choosing colors for the wall—I just snapped. I told him he didn’t care and he told me he did. We fought the entire way home.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well, he told me something that stuck with me until today.” Yoona smiled, the nostalgic kind. It was beautiful to witness. “He told me he didn’t care what color the walls were or if it was the right couch or bed because as long as I’m with him, it will always feel like home.” She looked at you. “It used to drive me crazy when I see things disorganized but after having Rowoo and Rohyun—seeing the scattered toys in the playroom, their little drawings on the wall, their discarded clothes on the floor when they get too excited from coming back home from school—it made me change my perception about perfection. I still am a perfectionist but I realized there’s more facets to it, you know?”
You nodded, a warm sensation settling within you. “I know.” You told her as your mind began to conjure up scenarios of yours and Yoongi’s future. You hoped it’d be like Yoona and Jaesung’s.
“Kids! Dinner’s ready. Wash your hands before going downstairs!” Jaesung’s voice boomed throughout the house.
Moments later, he and Yoongi entered the dining room holding the meals they prepared and set it on the table. “Careful, babe, it’s hot.” Yoongi told you as you made your way towards him.
“It smells wonderful.” You told him, placing an arm around his waist. You smiled at your boyfriend wearing a red apron. He looked at you and you mouthed, “Thank you.”
“For what?” He mouthed back as Rowoo and Rohyun came into the dining room, squealing in delight and excitement.
You shrugged your shoulders, squeezing his side gently. Yoongi smiled at you.
“Come on, you lovebirds, take a seat.” Jaesung told the both of you.
Yoongi helped you with your seat before taking a seat beside you. Seated across from you were Rowoo and Rohyun and on either end of the table were Yoona and Jaesung.
At that moment, as you began to have dinner with everyone in that table, you couldn’t ask for more.
-
After washing the dishes, playing some board games with everyone and tucking in Rowoo and Rohyun—you were finally able to retreat to your shared room with Yoongi and take a hot, relaxing water. Your boyfriend was still downstairs, helping Jaesung with the Chevrolet pick up truck he bought in an auction. Well, or so you thought. As you lather your hair in shampoo, you heard the glass door of the cubicle open and when you looked over your shoulder—you saw Yoongi stepping inside.
“This cubicle is taken, sorry.” You told him, turning to face him—and immediately, your lips were captured by his. You were slightly taken aback, almost slipping but Yoongi was quick to put his arms around you as he pulled you closer to his body. You didn’t even know how much you missed being this close to him until that moment. Your arms snaked around his neck, tilting your head and opening your mouth at his behest. Yoongi pressed your back against the tiled wall, hungrily kissing you like a starved man.
“I fucking missed you.” He whispered lowly as he took a moment to catch his breath, forehead pressed against yours. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop once we start. Is that okay?” He asked, pulling his hair back as he began to caress your sides with his fingers.
“Yes. It’s okay.” You told him, placing a hand behind his neck and pulled him closer to you so you could kiss him again. “Don’t stop, Yoongi. I’m all yours.” You whispered into his lips.
He groaned, capturing your lips once more however this time, it was more ferocious.
Yoongi kissed your neck, the valley of your breasts, and stomach before kneeling down in front of you—spreading your legs apart, placing one leg over his shoulder and wasting no time in devouring your glistening pussy. A gasp escaped your lips and your hand gripped your thigh that was on his shoulder tightly. You bit your lip to suppress your moans because you didn’t know how thick the walls were but you really didn’t want Yoona or Jaesung or worse, the kids, to walk in on Yoongi eating you out in the shower.
However, Yoongi wasn’t like that one bit. Just as you were on the edge of cumming, he pulled away and stood back up. “Why aren’t you making any noise, babe?” He asked, one hand gently gripping the side of your neck. His lips were coated by your juice, mixed with the water. You opened your mouth to speak but instead, to your surprise, Yoongi had spit in your mouth. He never really done that before but fuck, it was hot. You probably came right then and there. Yoongi raised an eyebrow, silently waiting for your reaction which was swallowing it. It just seemed the most natural thing to do. He smirked. “I thought you wouldn’t like it.”
“I thought I wouldn’t like it too.” You told him, smiling. “I wasn’t making any noise because I don’t want them walking in on us.”
“Don’t worry about them. Just focus on us. It’s not like they wouldn’t know what we’re up to.” Yoongi said, grabbing your hand and placing you directly under the water, beginning to wash your hair. “We’ll make the most while we’re here, okay?” He told you.
You nodded, closing your eyes as Yoongi’s fingers worked its way on your head. “Okay.”
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First Crack In The Glass
The next day, your entire body felt sore. Yoongi’s arm laid across your stomach, face buried in your neck. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, seeing the rays of the sun peeking through the blue curtains. You inhaled deeply, turning on your other side to face Yoongi. A smile immediately formed on your lips as Yoongi let out a quiet groan, pulling you closer to him. You caressed his cheek with your knuckles. “It’s time to wake up, Yoongs.”
“Five more minutes.” He mumbled.
“We can’t, baby. We have to go to the market, remember? Buy stuff for the barbeque later.” You told him softly, knowing he hated loud sounds early in the morning. You placed a kiss on his lips. “I love you.”
He smiled, finally opening his eyes. “Don’t go just yet.” He said in his raspy, morning voice. “It’s been a while since I woke up to your face.”
“Is it everything you hoped for?” You asked, brushing off the strands of hair tickling his eyes.
Yoongi nodded. “And more.” You smiled. “Come here.” He said, lying on his back as you straddle his waist. The coldness of the morning caused your nipples to perk up but it was Yoongi’s touch that gave you goosebumps. “You’re the most beautiful person I know, Y/N. Inside and out.”
You remembered the time when you couldn’t even be in shorts around Min Yoongi. You were too self-conscious. You couldn’t believe that someone like him actually liked you and wanted to be with you when he could have anyone in the world. You didn’t even know it was possible. You thought it could never happen because of the nine year age gap you had.
You were nineteen when you met him and he was twenty eight. You were in your first semester in college, working part time at a posh restaurant courtesy of your blockmate Jo Chaeyoung whose father was a famous celebrity chef. They had just finished a concert at the Olympic Stadium and since they were good friends with Chaeyoung’s dad, they held their celebratory dinner at the restaurant. You were one of the waiters serving them.
You didn’t even realize that it was BTS you were serving until after they finished celebrating and you were on your way back to the dormitory. Your manager, Mr. Baek, called you to the side and gave you a piece of paper telling you to call it first thing when you get home. You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was for since Mr. Baek left before you could even ask. You also didn’t call the number  because you fell asleep the moment your body hit the bed.
It wasn’t until weeks later that Yoongi showed up at the restaurant again. This time, he specifically requested to meet you. You still remember the way he looked that night. His hair was blonde and wore a plain black shirt, black jeans and a pair of white sneakers. Several rings adorned his fingers, a dainty silver necklace hanging around her neck. He was wearing glasses as he sipped on his wine, and the other was holding a book that he was close to finishing. You thought, you had never seen someone more beautiful.
That night, he told you that he liked you and that he wanted to get to know you better. You were shocked and had no idea what to say. All that came out of you was, “What?” but it seemed like it was all Min Yoongi needed. After the dinner, where you were mostly awkward, Yoongi offered to drive you home but you turned it down which he respected. You gave him your number though.
Then, the two of you began to text and call one another. It was awkward at first, especially the calls but after a few months, you both got the hang of it. Chaeyoung stayed with her girlfriend most nights so you had the dorm room all to yourself and while you studied, Yoongi would be on video call, making music.
Physical dates with him were rare even before you were an official couple but on times where the two of you met, Yoongi would take you outside the city and would spend hours on end sharing music, food and stories. He told you about his life as Suga and you told him about the trials and tribunals of a nineteen year old film major. It was during one of these dates out of town that you asked him why he liked you despite being nine years younger than him.
As always, Min Yoongi didn’t hold back.
“At first, it was just because I found you pretty. So, I gave the manager my number to give it to you, hoping we’ll click and something blossoms.” He had told you.
“Do you regret it?” You asked afterwards.
Yoongi shook his head. “No. I like you, Y/N. You’re more than just a pretty face to me now.”
It was after your finals that Yoongi asked you to be his girlfriend. He took you to Jumunjin Beach, cooked for you as a celebration of you finishing your finals and before the night ended—he made you solve a crossword puzzle which formed into, “Will you be my girlfriend?” once you finished answering it and read it vertically. You said yes and seven months later, here you were.
You lowered yourself on him, burying your face in his neck. His arms wrapped themselves around your waist. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too.”
-
It was everything to you—being able to walk hand-in-hand in public with your boyfriend. It was almost too good to be true. When Yoongi held your hand as you made your way to the market, you yanked it back, alarmed, telling him someone might see them and leak the photos to Dispatch. Yoongi, however, didn’t care and just grabbed your hand back. You swore, you were elated.
It was fun doing this with Yoongi. It felt normal. You didn’t need to think about the time constraint because there was none. If the barbeque wasn’t going to happen later, you would’ve asked Yoongi to stay here in the market until the night arrived. The best part was when the elderlies—who mostly made up the vendors—tell the two of you that you looked good together and asked if you were a newly wed couple; Yoongi would say yes and because you were flustered, you couldn’t refuse.
“How about we grab lunch at Mary Grace? The kids won’t be home till after three and we won’t have to start preparing till five.” Yoona suggested, shifting on her seat to face you and Yoongi who were sitting at the back passenger seat.
“Sounds good, noona.” Yoongi replied. “Is it still owned by Hyejin’s parents?”
“Yes,” Yoona said. “I think Hyejin’s running the place for the time being though.”
“Really? Why?” Yoongi asked, leaning forward with his eyebrows furrowed in worry.
“You didn’t hear? I thought you and Hyejin are still in contact?” His sister asked and Yoongi shook his head. Yoona sighed. “Well, her mom had a stroke so her dad’s been taking care of her.”
“What? When?” Yoongi sounded surprised and upset. You placed a hand on his shoulder, in an attempt to comfort him or calm him down but Yoongi just shrugged your hand off. You were stunned.
“Three months ago?” Yoona supplied. “Just talk to her when we get there.”
Yoongi leaned his back against the cushion once more, sighing deeply as he looked out the window. Consciously, you brought your hand to your lap, looked out of the window as well because you didn’t know what to say or what to do.
“Y/N, you okay back there?” It was Jaesung and he was looking at you through the mirror.
Immediately, you perked up, smiling. He was upset. He didn’t shrug my hand off with malice. You’re just being paranoid, Y/N. “Yeah. I was just thinking about the project I need to do. Do you guys think I can take a couple of shots at your properties?”
“No, it’s fine! Go ahead, Y/N.” Yoona said cheerfully.
“Great. Thanks guys.”
Throughout the ride, Yoongi didn’t hold your hand anymore.
-
Mary Grace was a small diner about forty minutes from Yoona and Jaesung’s place. It was the town’s favorite diner and practically everyone who lived at Hangsang went to grab their breakfast, lunch or dinner (sometimes all meals) here. When Yoona and Jaesung stepped in, they were immediately greeted not only by the manager—you assumed—but the patrons of the diner as well. You saw Yoongi being greeted too and he greeted them back, even hugging some of them while everyone looked at you with interest. Yoongi didn’t introduce you to any of them. But you buried it in your mind.
You were led to a booth and finally, Yoongi acknowledged your presence once more when he let you slide in first. “What are you going to have?” Yoongi asked, grabbing one of the menus.
“You guys want beer?” Jaesung asked the both of you.
“Yes.”
“No, hyung, it’s too early for that. We’ll just get cola.” Yoongi answered, eyes scanning the menu.
Jaesung looked at you. You smiled. “We’ll have cola.”
“You want the garlic chi—,”
“Well, I didn’t think I’d see both Mins in our diner again.” A woman’s voice cut Yoongi off and when you raised your head to look at her—you thought you were looking at a literal angel. She was basically glowing and the fact that she was wearing a white dress didn’t help either. Her hair was as black as the void, perfectly straight and shiny. Her milky white skin was flawless, face small like a doll.
“Jang Hyejin! Wow, you’re looking good today.” Yoona said, giving her two thumbs up.
So this was Hyejin. She smiled shyly at Yoona’s compliment. “No, I just had a meeting with some clients, that's why I’m all dressed up.”
While Hyejin and Yoona talked, you couldn’t help but to look at Yoongi. Something about the way he looked at her made you feel something that you hadn’t felt before—it was jealousy. Just who was Jang Hyejin and why was your boyfriend looking at her like she held the stars above?
“Min Yoongi, nice to see you again.” Hyejin said, smiling down at your boyfriend.
“Hyejin,” The way her name sounded off his tongue clenched your heart—and not in a good way. “Nice to see you too.”
Again, Min Yoongi didn’t introduce you. If it wasn’t for Yoona, you would’ve not probably made yourself known because it seemed like Yoongi and Hyejin had their own world with how they were staring at each other.
“Y/L/N Y/N, nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi’s girlfriend.” You said, shaking her hand. At the mention of girlfriend, Yoongi placed a hand on your thigh.
“Ah, I see. It’s lovely to meet you then, Y/N. Welcome to Hangsang and Mary Grace too.”
“It’s a great town. The diner looks great too.” You told her, plastering a smile on your face.
“Thank you. It’s been with the family for years. This is our second branch, actually.” She said.
“Really? Where’s the main branch?” You asked.
“Oh, it’s in Daegu, Y/N,” Yoona answered. “Hyejin’s family and ours go way back.”
Well, that was a surprise. You glanced briefly at Yoongi who seemed so fixated on the menu. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Oh? Didn’t Yoongi tell you that he and Hyejin used to date in high school? Even until after he debuted. They were childhood and high school sweethearts.” Yoona said, earning a hiss from her husband and a stern gaze from Yoongi. “What?”
The tension was suffocating.
Hyejin excused herself before she bid you all a happy meal and told you a waiter would be taking their order.
Needless to say, the lunch at Mary Grace wasn’t pleasant at all.
-
You never really got jealous. Even when you see fans thirsting about your boyfriend online, you didn’t feel a twinge of jealousy because you knew that at the end of the day, in a way, Yoongi still came home to you. But Hyejin wasn’t just a fan—she was the quintessential first love. Someone you just didn’t forget. Someone who probably inspired many of the love songs Yoongi composed before he met you. Someone he had done all the firsts you were experiencing with him. Someone his own age.
By the time you got home, you excused yourself and made your way to your room where you grabbed your camera, tripod, laptop, phone, chargers and extra batteries before telling everyone—Yoongi included—that you’ll be taking a few shots of the property. You didn’t wait for their replies and head out. Part of you wanted Yoongi to come and follow you out but he didn’t so you went on your way.
The truth was you were done with your project. But you loved filming and it would surely take your mind off of the Yoongi and Hyejin situation. You were probably being paranoid again anyways. Hyejin was the past, you were the present and Yoongi had always told you that you were his future. You were being jealous for nothing. They were broken up ages ago and maybe it wasn’t a good break up that’s why Yoongi had never brought it up.
But then…  why did Yoona think she and Yoongi were still in contact? Had they been after the break up? Had they been when you first started dating?
You cursed under your breath as you took a deep breath and found yourself walking towards the dock; the lake shining from the sunshine. You readied your camera, making sure it perfectly encapsulated the scenery before you and when it did, your smile was huge.
You had always wanted to become a filmmaker. Ever since you were young, it was your dream. Your parents supported it greatly, buying you your first handheld video recorder and desktop to edit your films on Windows Movie Maker at age nine. As you got older, they let you enroll in after school filmmaking class and it was at age fifteen when you received your first professional camera from your parents who saved up for it over the years. It was outdated now but you still kept it and would never throw it away.
With that camera, you worked part time for a wedding videographer—Im Jaebeom—who became somewhat of a mentor to you. He taught you the basic skills and gradually the advanced ones. He encouraged you to be a film major in college and even helped your parents complete the necessary money needed so you could enroll. From time to time, you still helped him with his job as a wedding videographer.
You stayed at the dock, filming and transferring the videos on your laptop and thinking about life until you heard your name being called and when you looked at your phone—it was already ten minutes to five.
As you made your way back, you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw various tables being set up by Jaesung at the backyard. “Are there guests coming?” You asked as you approached him.
“Yeah. We hold barbeque parties every Friday night. Most of the people in town come by and we drink, have a good time. Kids get to play on the front yard.” Jaesung looked up, pressing his lips together. “He didn’t tell you, didn’t he?”
“Must have slipped his mind.” You said. “Anyways, I’ll just put these back upstairs. Then, I’ll help you set up.”
You didn’t need to wonder why didn’t tell you. The answer was very simple. Jang Hyejin.
-
The night came quickly and before you knew it, there were lots of people gathering in the house. Yoongi still hadn’t spoken to you since you got home as he was busy manning the grill, while you helped Yoona prepare handpicked food in the kitchen. As you were pouring the bag of Nachos in the bowl, you stopped when you heard Yoona greet Hyejin with an excited squeal and hugged her tightly. She was out of the white dress she was wearing and was now dressed up in a pair of denim jeans, a yellow off shoulder top and flats. Her long hair was pulled into a low ponytail. She brought with her a box of beer and some food from the diner.
“Oh you didn’t have to bring these, Hyejin!”
“No, it’s okay, unnie.” She replied with a chuckle. “Hi Y/N.” She greeted you as soon as your eyes met.
“Hi.” You greeted her back.
“I think we have enough food for now. Come on girls, let’s go out and unwind.” Yoona grabbed both of you by the wrists and dragged you out of the house and into the backyard.
While Hyejin was greeted with hellos and hugs, you, on the other hand, felt so out of place. You looked for Yoongi in the crowd and spotted him still by the grill and you hoped he would feel you staring, know that you were uncomfortable and stay by your side—but he didn’t.
So, while everyone gathered around Hyejin, you grabbed the box of beers she brought and made your way to the dock.
-
You were down to your last beer when it was snatched out of your hand and you felt yourself being pulled up on your feet by someone. You were a heavy drinker so the tipsiness hadn’t really sunk in despite finishing five beers which also made you recognize that the person was Min Yoongi.
And he wasn’t looking pleased.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked.
“Drinking on a dock.” You replied with a shrug.
“You think I’m joking around, Y/N? What you’re doing is stupid. What the hell are you doing drinking out here? Before a freezing lake?” Yoongi didn’t really raise his voice but you could tell if something frustrated him—and he was clearly frustrated.
Too bad for him because you were too.
“And what do you think you’re doing, huh? Ever since we got home, you barely talked to me or even looked at me! Ever since you saw Jang Hyejin, you’ve been avoiding me like I’m the plague, Yoongi.” You said, breathing heavily.
“What? You were the one who marched out the moment we got home, Y/N. Don’t even put this on me.” Yoongi said, scoffing in disbelief.
“You should have come after me then! Talked to me! Why the hell is it my job to go to you when you were the one keeping secrets.” You were upset, very very upset that you felt tears stinging your eyes.
“Y/N, it’s called giving you space.” Yoongi enunciate every syllable carefully as if he was talking to a kid.
That caused your blood to boil.
“Don’t,” You told him through gritted teeth. “Don’t you fucking talk to me like I’m some kid, Yoongi.”
“What? I’m not! Jesus Christ, Y/N!” Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. “You’re fucking drunk. I can’t believe this. You’re fucking drunk and being so hysterical while the entire fucking town’s here.”
“I’m not drunk and I’m not being hysterical!” You exclaimed, breathing shakily. “Why didn’t you tell me about her then? Why didn’t you even introduce me as your girlfriend to her and to those people back there?”
“Fucking shit, Y/N, I’m not doing this—,”
“Fucking answer me! Why can’t you just answer me? Is it because I’m younger than you?” You were crying at this point, chest tightening.
“Y/N, what the fuck are you on about? I was busy with the grill—,”
“No, even at the people at the diner—you didn’t introduce me to them, Yoongi. Hell, they were looking at me like I’m a lost puppy following you!”
“Y/N, I barely even know those people. Seriously, what the hell? You’re literally being so unreasonable right now.”
“And Hyejin?” You pressed.
“What now?” He groaned out. “What about her, Y/N?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
“Why the fuck do I need to, Y/N? She’s the past for a reason. You’re my girlfriend now. What the fuck? You’re being so—so fucking unbelievable right now. There are visitors here and you’re acting like a fucking ch—,” He stopped himself.
“Go on.” You told him.
He sighed, shutting his eyes tightly. He approached you but you stepped back. “Baby, come on. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Hyejin and I’m sorry for raising my voice at you. Please, come on, stop crying, please.” Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to his chest. “I’m sorry, baby, it’s just—Hyejin isn’t important in our relationship so I didn’t feel the need to bring her up.”
You suddenly felt bad. “No, I’m—,” You pulled away to look at him. “I’m sorry. I just—I just got jealous and I…”
Yoongi wiped away your tears with the back of his hands. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s alright now. We’re good, okay? Let’s just forget this happened please?”
You nodded, hugging him once more. “I love you, Yoongi. So much.”
He kissed the top of your head. “I love you too, Y/N.”
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Are You Real? 
Yoongi’s month off went as quickly as it came. The days where you woke up curled to his side after long hours of making love and fucking were replaced by cold mornings in your thin walled apartment. Your life went back to the way it was even before Yoongi was in the picture. Work, university, review, maybe hang out with a couple of close friends after class when you were free, eat, sleep and repeat. It wasn’t like it was a new thing anyway. But this time proved to be harder. It was a good thing that you were getting busy with your major and job because you honestly didn’t know how you’d be able to cope without Yoongi.
As always, you kept up with his schedule. They were back in the studio—recording and practicing for the new album and the upcoming tour. Yoongi kept you updated about everything for the first two weeks but the everyday updates became every other day to none at all. Not wanting to seem clingy, you didn’t bombard him with messages and just left a few short ones such as reminding him to eat and that he was doing a great job. Sometimes, Yoongi would reply. Most times, he would leave the message on read and you would tell yourself that he was probably exhausted. These days, like many of his fans, you kept up with his schedule on social media.
Today, they were going to appear on a radio show and Yoongi hadn’t told you about it.
A part of you wanted to listen to it just so you could hear his voice again. Another part of you didn’t. But, really, what choice did you have? He was part of the biggest band not only in the country but the entire world—you wouldn’t be able to escape him even if you wanted to.
The seats in the bus were taken so you were standing, holding on to the handle above you. Usually, you would have your earphones on (playing his songs most of the time) when you were commuting back to the apartment but you were in such a hurry to ride the bus that you didn’t have the time to plug in your earphones. During this time, the drivers wouldn’t really turn on the television or the radio because it was an unspoken thing that everyone was too tired to listen to it anyway but today, the driver did and you found yourself perking up at the sound of his voice.
“Hello. I’m Suga. Nice to meet you all.”
Like many times before, at the sound of his voice, you felt like all the weariness and exhaustion in your body slipped away. Throughout the ride, you listened closely to the boys enjoying the interview and when it was time for you to get off, you hurriedly plugged in your earphone into your phone, clicked the radio app, went to the channel where they were on and began listening to them once more as you walked to your apartment.
By the time you arrived, they were being told that their time was coming to a close so they were asked one last question: what their plans were after the interview. Stepping into your apartment, you took your shoes off and placed them neatly inside the shoe rack before making your way to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. Yoongi answered the question.
“The other guys have their schedules but for me, I’ll be going home.”
You drank the entire glass in one go. Home sweet home.
-
Sometimes, you missed your dorm room but with the university raising the rent for it—you were just in no position to pay for it at all even though you were taking out loans in order to pay your tuition per semester. So, you ended up renting a cheap apartment an hour away from campus. Aside from the broken heating system and the thin walls, there really wasn’t anything to complain about. You get what you pay for.
Finally reaching your floor after making a trip to the nearby convenience store where you bought your dinner, you heaved out a long sigh. Taking your phone out of your jacket pocket, you were surprised to see a text message from Yoongi. You had the ‘Do not disturb’ on for obvious reasons and so you had no idea of the notifications on your phone. Opening it, you read his message: Where are you? It was sent thirty minutes ago.
Continuing your trip down to your unit, you began typing in your response when you heard an all too familiar voice before you. Lifting your head, you were surprised at the sight of Min Yoongi. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, an oversized gray Fear of God shirt and sneakers. In his hand was a box of pizza and the other was holding a plastic bag of what seemed to be a couple of beers. He was barefaced, mask pulled to his chin and his black hair was down.
“Yoongi, what are you doing here?” You asked, clearly stunned.
“Didn’t you listen to the radio?” He asked, smiling softly at you. “I said I was going home.”
And just like that, all the ill feelings you had with him from not contacting you as much as before disappeared. You stepped towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He smelled so good. Like fresh laundry. Yoongi wrapped an arm around you, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you as much. I was just so busy with everything.”
You shook your head, looking up at him. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“Wanna eat this pizza with me then?” He asked and you nodded, pulling away from him so you could unlock your apartment door. “Babe, do you feel safe here?” Yoongi asked as you opened the door.
The both of you entered the apartment, shoes off. “Yeah, you don’t need to worry about it, Yoongs.” You told him.
“Has the landlord fixed the heater? It’s nearing winter.” Yoongi said, setting the pizza box on the kitchen countertop along with the plastic bag.
You shook your head, grabbing two plates and utensils. “Not yet.”
“I don’t think it’s a matter of “yet”, Y/N. I think he has no plans of fixing it all.” Yoongi said as you handed him a plate and you put your supposed dinner on the table—a cup of noodles, Snickers bar and Red Bull. “What’s this?” He asked, referring to your dinner.
“Dinner.” You told him, grinning. “I know what you’re gonna say: it’s not healthy but I’m paying rent while also saving for a new camera.”
“Babe, I can always pitch in, you know that, right? When things are getting tough?” He said, opening the box of pizza.
“I know but I’m not dating you for your money, Yoongi and it’s okay. It’s adulting.” You replied, closing your eyes as you inhaled the aroma of the freshly baked pizza.
“I know you’re not but I just don’t want to see you suffering when I know I can help you.” Yoongi stated, placing a piece on your plate. Afterwards, he placed a piece for himself on his plate too.
You smiled at him, reaching over the counter to place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. I promise, when I need it, you’ll be the first on my list.”
-
You were surprised when Yoongi told you he could stay for the night. It felt amazing having him beside you again, holding you in his arms as the two of you listened to the songs he was working through his airpods. It was half past midnight but neither of you seemed to have any plans of falling asleep. Yoongi’s fingers drummed on your waist and your head rested on his chest, simultaneously listening to his songs and his heart beating.
“Y/N, do you wanna dance with me?” Yoongi suddenly asked.
Smiling, you placed your hands on his chest and rested your chin on top of them as you looked at him. “Right now?”
He nodded as he sat up. You pulled back, as Yoongi left the bed and stood before you with his hand extended for you to take. “Dance with me, please?” He asked.
And how could you say no?
You placed your hand in his and he led to the kitchen where he opened the refrigerator, its light illuminating the dark apartment. He placed his hands on your waist, drawing you in and you wrapped your arms around his neck—foreheads pressed against one another. With the music playing in the airpods, Yoongi began to sway and you followed his movements.
And you began to tear up.
“I’m going to be gone for months but I want you to know that I’ll always be thinking about you. Every song I sing that is about love, know that I’m singing it to you. I love you so much, Y/N. More than you can imagine.” You opened your eyes, moving your arms to hold him by the neck. He wiped the tears away from your face. “Why are you crying?”
“I just—,” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m just happy that you’re here.”
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The Breaking Point
You never really had strong opinions about birthday celebrations. Growing up, you only really celebrated your birthday with your parents and a couple of friends that you never really talk to anymore. Once you entered high school, birthday celebrations meant underage drinking at someone’s house or elsewhere where they wouldn’t get caught. You had gone to a few parties but you never really grew fond of them. At college, you only really attended one. It was a house party of one of your blockmates, nothing too wild. You were a freshman. After that, you never really attended any. Mostly because you were busy with work; sometimes because Yoongi didn’t want you to.
But this year was different. Your graduation aligned with your birthday and your parents insisted that you throw a celebration. It really didn’t take you long to answer with an “okay” because you honestly wanted to celebrate. Four years in college felt like four lifetimes and after everything you had been through, you felt like you deserved one night to celebrate yourself for overcoming those hurdles.
You were twenty three now and Yoongi was thirty two.
Over the years, your relationship with him has changed. But you supposed being together for four years—the change was inevitable.
You didn’t even recognize the Yoongi now and you can tell that he didn’t recognize the you now. It wasn’t just the physical traits like how your hair was shorter now, dyed into auburn brown with streaks of blonde here and there. You had also gotten a few tattoos, courtesy of Jungkook whom you had grown closer with over the years. Some of them were even drawn by him. Yoongi didn’t approve of it but he learned to accept it. You also changed up your style. It wasn’t as drastic but you definitely owned more skirts and heels and some cute tops and dresses than before.
As for Yoongi, his hair was now returning to its usual length. A year ago, he was discharged from his military duties and while awaiting for Hoseok and Namjoon, who enlisted together, he had been working as a producer for other artists including his own members who were working on their solo stuff. Right after he was discharged, you didn’t hear from him in three months. You knew that he was out of the military, courtesy of the news, and you thought that that was it. He didn’t want to be with you anymore and while it hurt, you just let him. You moved on with your life, busying yourself with your internship and other facets of your life such as reconnecting and meeting new friends. For the first time, you actually enjoyed your twenties.
Then, Yoongi showed up at the production company you were interning at after not hearing anything from him in three months. At first, you didn’t really want anything to do with him. But Yoongi, stubborn as always, didn’t leave you be and for six whole months, he went to your internship everyday as you got off of it with flowers in hand and offers for dinner or a ride home. Initially, you turned him down, adamant to not let him back in your life anymore but he was persistent that one night, you agreed to dinner and just like that—everything felt like it was before.
You were together again and it just felt right.
With him mostly working as a producer, the two of you spent more time together. In fact, during your last semester in college, you moved in with him to a nice apartment he bought near your university. Gone were the days where you video called one another. While you work on your projects, Yoongi would be there with you in the shared office you two had. Gone were the cold mornings and nights as he would be there every day and every night. It was such a bliss. Yoongi had even disclosed that you two were dating to the media and the fans. As expected, not all accepted it positively. Yoongi lost fans, some of whom had been there since he debuted and for a while, you couldn’t even go out without both fans and the media following you. However, through it all, Yoongi was there. He never left your side and always assured you that nothing can come between the two of you.
But lately, things have been different. Yoongi can be distant at times and over the years, you learned to give him the space he needed and to not hover around him. But this was different. Most nights he would go home late, sometimes he wouldn’t go home at all. It bothered you a great deal. So, when you had the opportunity to talk to him, you took it—however, it didn’t go according to plan. Long story short, it resulted in a screaming match and Yoongi leaving you crying in the middle of your shared room, on the floor. While Yoongi came home the next morning with flowers and breakfast in bed, apologizing, you knew that there was already a strain on your relationship.
Tonight, the strain was evident. Not only to you but for other people as well. Every guest in your party had asked you the same thing the entire night, “Where’s Yoongi?” and you felt so hurt and ashamed at the same time because you didn’t know. He told you that he’d be here. So, that’s what you told you them—that he would be running late but he’d be here. For the most part, they easily accepted the lie but Seokjin, Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung—not so much.
“Why are you out here, kid?” You heard your father’s voice from behind. Looking over your shoulder, you smiled at him and raised your beer bottle. He sat down beside you on the small bench outside your family home.
“Just wanted some alone time.” You told him, drumming your fingers against the beer bottle.
For a moment, your father was silent. Then, he grabbed the beer from your hand and you furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head to look at him. “Dad, what the—,”
“You’ve never been a good liar, Y/N. Mostly because of your eyes. It’s the same as your mother’s. It never hides what you’re really feeling inside.” He said, taking a swig at your beer. “I know you’re old enough and it’s your decision what you want to do with your life and who to spend it with but Y/N, if it’s not working out anymore—you always have the option to walk away.”
He gave you your beek and you lowered your gaze, fighting the strong urge to cry. “I—I love him, Dad.”
“I know,” He replied. “Sometimes, it isn’t enough.”
“What if I still want us to work? What if this is just another obstacle we need to overcome?” You desperately looked in your father’s eyes, hoping to find the answer you wanted to hear.
But instead, he told you, “Y/N, you’re not the only one in the relationship. Wanting it to work should be something both of you choose to do.” He wrapped an arm around you and you rested your head on his shoulder. “Whatever you choose to do, your mom and I will always be here to support you.”
-
Coming home to an empty apartment wasn’t new to you. But having Yoongi there was. He was sitting on the stool in the kitchen island, elbows resting on the counter and head hanging low. Your heels clicked against the wooden floor as you made your way towards him. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you asked, “Where were you?”
“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you. Can you please sit down?” Yoongi raised his head, however, he wouldn’t meet your gaze.
You clenched your jaws. “I don’t want to sit down. If you have something to say then just say it.”
You were met only by a deep sigh followed by silence. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose but you had enough. Slamming your bag on the countertop, you exclaimed, “Fuck, Yoongi! Just say it!”
“I want to break up, Y/N.” He said calmly, finally meeting your gaze.
You imagined this moment coming but to actually hear it, to actually experience it was fucking heart breaking. “W-What?” It was all that could come out of your mouth.
“We both know it’s not the same as before. Let’s not kid ourselves anymore, Y/N. It’s better to end it now than drag it on and we end up hurting each other more.” Yoongi licked his lips, running his fingers through his hair. You were speechless. All that left your mouth were silent sobs. He sighed. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but let’s live separately now. You can have this—,”
“Why?” You managed to croak out, taking a deep shaky breath. “F-Four years of my life I s-spent with you and then j-just like that…”
“It’s just the way life is, Y/N.” And he used that tone again—like he was talking to a kid.
“Don’t use that fucking tone with me, Yoongi. I’m not a fucking child you scold.” You spat.
He scoffed, leaving the stool. “Really? ‘Cos you’re acting like one right now.” He pressed his lips together. “I’ll come back for my things tomorrow.”
“I don’t understand how you can just leave like that. Like we weren’t together for four years. Like we didn’t share memories, good and bad. Shared highs and lows.” You said, biting your lower lip so tight that it was drawing blood. “I knew something was going on but I didn’t know what because—because you don’t talk to me, Yoongi. Just—Just where did this all go wrong?”
“It was wrong from the beginning, Y/N.” Yoongi said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have pursued you from the start. You were fucking nineteen, for fuck’s sake. But I was way over my head. Back then, settling down was the farthest thing in my mind.” He looked at you. “But now, that’s all I want to do. I want to settle down and start a family, Y/N. You couldn’t give me that because you have your career planned, right?” He sucked in a sharp breath, placing a hand on his hip. “Maybe if we were closer in age—,”
“Please stop,” You croaked out. It was too much. You couldn’t bear to hear it any longer. “Just stop.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I love you, I do, but...”
“You’re not.” You told him, forcing a smile on your face. “You’re not sorry, Yoongi. If you really loved me then me having a career won’t be a hindrance because—because it was never a hindrance when it came to you, right? From the very start, it never was. You got to live the best of both worlds.”
“I’ll pick up my things tomorrow. Goodbye, Y/N.” Yoongi left the kitchen, his footsteps echoing throughout the apartment. You heard the door open and when it closed, the tears came pouring like a waterfall. You felt yourself drop on the floor, hand over your chest as you steadied your breathing. You were absolutely and irrevocably crushed.
He didn’t even greet you on your graduation and birthday.
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The Reeling
It felt like you were already dead. Everyday, for the past three months, you barely remembered anything that you did. All you could remember was how Yoongi left, stripped bare the apartment you two once called home of his things and how you cried yourself to sleep every night. Your parents had wanted you to move back in with them but you refused. You didn’t want to leave the apartment because it was the only thing that Yoongi left for you. He took everything, including a part of you.
His friends would check up on you most of the time which made the moving on process difficult because even them reminded you of Yoongi’s best traits. Namjoon checked up on you the most. Sometimes, he even went to the apartment with food in hand and attempts to get you out—they were unsuccessful.
The worst part was when you lost a project that would’ve definitely launched your career as a well-known director. The production team didn’t see your commitment as you were either always late or when you did show up on time, your mind was elsewhere. That set you off on a downward spiral. It caused you to lock yourself in the room, the duvet covering your body,  pretending it to be Yoongi because it still smelled like him and you didn’t have the courage to wash them. You turned your phone off and didn’t allow anyone in the apartment which, legally, you had the right and you knew that. Your parents did too so knowing you all too well, they called the authorities to do a welfare check on you which allowed them to finally see you after a week of just staying in.
The conversation that followed after that snapped you back to reality.
“Mom, what the fuck? Why did you have to call the cops?” You asked, shutting your eyes when your father pulled the curtains apart; letting in the morning light.
“Why do you think, Y/N? Whenever we tried calling you, it went straight to voicemail. None of your friends know where you were and when we called work, they said you had been let go. Do the math.” Your mom replied, clenching her jaw as she looked at you. “I mean, baby, look at you—,”
“I’m fine. Will you two just please go?” You said through gritted teeth, turning on your heels, on your way back to the room when your father’s voice stopped you.
“We thought you were dead, Y/N.”
When you looked over your shoulder, you saw them looking at you with so much concern in their eyes. Your mother was fighting the tears that were threatening to escape her eyes but she lost and right there, in the middle of the living room, she broke down. You thought Yoongi leaving broke you but when you saw her crying—nothing hurt more.
Before you knew it, you were running to them and they welcomed you in their arms. You hugged them tightly, like you were a kid and in a way, at twenty three—you really were a kid. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You chanted like a mantra, sobbing to your heart’s content.
“Y/N, we want you to know that it’s okay that you’re hurt because you loved him but please, don’t let him stop you from making the most out of your life. You don’t deserve that.” Your father said as your mother wiped your face with her hands, tucking the strands of your hair behind your ear.
“We love you, baby.” Your mother said, smiling at you as she cupped your face. “Even on days like this.”
So, here you were, three months later and while there were still days where you found yourself wanting to be away from everything and everyone, you were much better. The first thing you did was to move out of the apartment and for the meantime, you were living with your parents. Then, you began to find a job but it was hard as there really weren’t many openings for a film graduate like you. So, you applied for all the jobs you could find even if it wasn’t related to film and that’s how you began working at the mailroom of Valor Publishing House.
It wasn’t much but it paid so you really couldn’t complain.
You were rebuilding your life. Or, taking it back. For four years, your life revolved around Yoongi and whenever you would look at yourself in the mirror—you couldn’t even recognize yourself. With him, you always tried to be a grown up. You always wanted to look mature. Looking back, you couldn’t help but to laugh a little. You really did change yourself to fit in with him and now, you were finding your old self again, before Min Yoongi came into your life.
To do that, you restricted yourself in having any contact with his friends. You began making new ones at your work and reconnecting with old friends from high school and college. You went out, had drinks with them and sometimes, when you were up for it, you joined them in clubs—both the drinking and dancing type and clubs such as poetry, knitting and books.
But most of all, you began working on your film. You had the idea for quite a while but you never really got to work on it. In between break times, day offs and even when you were commuting back and to work—you were always working on your film.
And that’s how you found yourself in the cafe, eyes focused on the screen of your laptop that you didn’t notice someone had sat down in front of you. It was only when a plate of blueberry cheesecake was placed beside your laptop that you looked up and saw Kim Namjoon sitting across from you. His dimpled smile was plastered on his face. “Hey Y/N.”
“Namjoon, hi. What are you—what are you doing here?” You asked, smiling at him.
“I was just riding my bike and saw this cafe. It looked quiet so I went in. What about you? What are you working on?” He asked.
It was always easy to talk to Namjoon. With him, you remembered just being yourself. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just writing.”
“A movie, perhaps?” He inquired.
You nodded, scratching the top of your head. “Something like that. I don’t know. I’m just really writing it. It’s not like a proper script or something.”
“That’s—That’s really amazing, Y/N.” Namjoon said and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Can I—Can I read it? I mean, these days, I’m not really doing much with Jimin and Taehyung doing their military service. I can, maybe, help you? If that’s okay, I mean, I understand completely if you don’t want to since I don’t really have any experience with—,”
You chuckled. “I would love for you to work on it with me, Namjoon. Thank you.”
And that’s how it began. Whenever the two of you were free, you and Namjoon would go to the cafe and work on the screenplay together. Sometimes, it would be the only thing you two talked about. Then, there were days where it was set aside and you talked about everything else. Today, you found yourself asking him, “How’s he?”
Namjoon seemed taken aback by the sudden question. “Oh, um…”
You smiled at him. “It’s fine. It’s been four months, Joon. I just… Is he okay?”
“Yoongi hyung is… well, Yoongi hyung. He’s busy with work. He’s a sought after producer so…” Namjoon trailed off.
“Is he… dating?” You felt your heart pounding.
He shook his head. “Not that I know of.” You nodded. “Y/N, do you still love him?”
You took a deep breath. “I do,” You confessed. “I mean, people say that you fall in love thrice in your lifetime, you know? The first is puppy love when you thought love was like those in fairytales. Then, there’s the second one which is the love that you wished worked out. It’s the love that hurts the most. It’s the love that you just don’t forget easily. And then, the third one is the love that stays. Yoongi,” You smiled. “Yoongi’s the second one for me.”
Namjoon nodded. “For what it’s worth, Y/N, I’ve known him for a long time and I’ve seen him through all his ups and downs. Yoongi hyung… he was happy with you. He… I think he really did love you.”
“Just not enough to make him stay.”
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The Remembering 
Min Yoongi sighed deeply, rubbing his face with his hands as he leaned his back against the soft cushion of his chair. Like most days, he locked himself in the studio, busy with the avalanche of works he had on his plate. He wasn’t tired. He wasn’t exhausted. He wasn’t even fucking sleepy even though he hadn’t much sleep for the past couple of days. But there was a heavy feeling inside him that no matter how much he buried himself in his work, he just couldn’t shake. Yoongi knew exactly what the feeling was but he wouldn’t admit it—especially to himself. He made the decision to leave, after all.
He didn’t know when it stopped—loving you with much ferocity as he did before. He didn’t even know it was possible. Yoongi saw his future with you. He fought for your relationship to Bang Shihyuk, to the company’s board of directors, to the fans and media when he finally disclosed it to the public. Even when his members were having doubts because of the age gap, Yoongi shut them down because he loved you and fuck the nine years gap.
But it did happen. He woke up one day and he just… stopped. When he looked at you, he no longer felt his heart beating like it would explode. When he was with you, there was no more warmth; only… indifference and it scared him because it was you.
What could he have done?
He could’ve done many things. For starters, he could’ve just told you that he felt that way. He didn’t have to hide it and dealt with it on his own. He didn’t have to shut you out. He didn’t have to distance himself from you. He could’ve been honest. He didn’t have to cheat. Yoongi called it a lapse of judgment, a drunken mistake. But was it really? Once, maybe. But to do it twice, thrice, countless more times—it was already a choice. He knew what that made him out to be—a fucking coward.
He cursed under his breath, grabbing his phone on his desk—fifteen missed calls and thirty three from Hyejin—his wallet and the jacket hanging on his chair. Leaving his studio, he walked down the empty hallway of the Hybe building and towards the elevator. Waiting for the elevator doors to open, he felt his phone buzzing inside his pocket. Groaning, he pulled it out and answered the call, knowing all too well who was on the other side. “What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’? Where the fuck have you been? You’re not answering any of my calls. You’re not answering any of my texts. For fuck’s sake, Yoongi, I’m pregnant and—,”
“I’m working, Hyejin. You know—,” The doors opened and to his surprise, standing before him was Kim Namjoon. “I’ll call you back.”
“What? Yoongi—,” He hung up.
“Hey hyung. Going out?” Namjoon stepped out of the elevator, his dimpled smile plastered on his face.
Yoongi nodded. “Yeah. Getting something to eat. You?”
“Just needed to grab something in the studio then I’ll be heading out. See you around, hyung.” Namjoon walked past him.
Yoongi didn’t know what came over him. He knew he didn’t have the right but he had been wanting to ask Namjoon this since he figured it out. “Going out with Y/N?” He didn’t mean for it to sound so bitter but fuck it.
Namjoon stopped on his tracks, turning around to face him with his hands buried inside his pockets. He nodded. “Yeah. We have plans tonight.”
“Aren’t you gonna ask me how I know?” Yoongi asked, raising his eyebrow.
“I wasn’t subtle about it anyway. I knew you’d recognize her in the photos.” Namjoon answered, shrugging his shoulders. “Why? You don’t like it, hyung?”
“Well, fuck, Namjoon, she’s my ex and you’re my friend. You’re smart. Why don’t you figure that equation out?” He hissed, his gaze narrowing.
“She’s Y/N, hyung. She’s not just your ex-girlfriend. I don’t see anything wrong in the equation.”
Yoongi scoffed, tilting his head. “I can’t believe this.” He muttered before facing Namjoon once more. “Do you like her?”
“I do.”
“Do you love her?”
Namjoon paused, lowering his gaze as he pressed his lips together. Then, he looked at his hyung’s eyes directly. “I do.” Yoongi sucked in a sharp breath. However, before he could speak, Namjoon beat him to it. “Don’t worry, hyung. I’m not planning to ask her to be my girlfriend or confessing. Not yet anyway. I don’t know.”
“Why not?” Yoongi asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Because it’s the last thing she needs right now. Also, because I know she still loves you.”
Yoongi licked his lower lips. “Why the fuck are you such a nice guy? I hate you so much sometimes, you know?” Namjoon only smiled. He sighed deeply. “Sorry for coming at you. I’m just… How’s—How’s she anyways?”
“Trying to find her old self again. It’s a pretty sight, to be honest.”
Yoongi bet it was.
-
Yoongi gained more freedom once they entered a hiatus in order to serve in the military. They were still very much popular but with the rise of other groups in the industry, their popularity wasn’t like before where they couldn’t go out without being mobbed. For the most part, Yoongi was thankful for that. He missed being able to walk down the streets and eat at public places without the fear of sasaengs lurking in the corners. But, of course, there were days where he missed those days. The stadium tours, the comebacks, the performances, the practices—where he missed you.
And that’s why he found himself sitting on the bus stop where he had walked you that night when you had your first dinner. You didn’t let him take you home, which he understood. But he insisted on walking you home and before you tapped your card, you looked at him over your shoulder, shooting him that beautiful smile before telling the driver to wait and pulling a sharpie from your bag. He was so confused but it all drained when you grabbed his hand and wrote your number on your number on his palm.
Yoongi looked down on his palm, smiling but quickly, it faded when there were no numbers. He threw his head back. “What the fuck.”
Suddenly, all the things that reminded him of you plagued his mind.
The bus you rode that night.
The backpack you had that was on some random girl’s back across the street.
The smell of your perfume on the woman who just passed by him.
The song he heard playing from the man’s earphones beside him.
The autumn leaf falling down, reminding of that time when they went to his sister’s place. How he made love to you all night. How you breathed out his name. How you let him touch you, kiss you, praise you, mark you.
His phone rang once more and he took it out of his pocket, seeing Hyejin’s name on the screen. He ended the call and once more, he was reminded of you when he saw your face on his lockscreen. He never really got around to change it.
He probably should. But right now, he couldn’t.
-
When he got back to his studio, instead of working, he found himself scrolling through Namjoon’s private Instagram account where he posted photos of you, even tagging you. All of the pictures were taken from the same place, he noticed. It was most probably a cafe. He smiled as he saw you smiling. You looked so much like the girl he fell in love with. The girl with the stars in her eyes. The girl who had ambitions and goals. The girl who was happy.
He clicked on Namjoon’s story and not to his surprise, he saw you but instead of the cafe—the two of you were at your parents’ house. He felt his heart clenched.
“What are you doing, Kim Namjoon?” You said on the video and hearing your voice—Yoongi was stunned. Namjoon was standing beside your mother, cutting what looked like were tomatoes. “Joon, what the heck. Mom said to crush them, not to cut them!”
“What?” Namjoon looked at you—really looked at you and not the phone you were looking at. “Auntie, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, dear. We’ll figure it out.” Your mom said with an affectionate chuckle as she patted Namjoon’s cheek.
Yoongi thought, “That used to be me.”
You flipped the camera to yourself and Yoongi jerked back, taken aback by seeing your face up close. “Well, that’s Kim Namjoon for you.” You looked up and Yoongi paused the video.
Fuck, how he missed you. How he wanted to be the one with you right now, making dinner with your parents and joining in with your dad in making dad jokes that would surely make his Seokjin hyung proud. He wanted to be the man you were looking at. He wanted to be the man you only wanted.
And for the first time, Min Yoongi let himself cry.
He lost you because it was his choice and now, he’s going to live with it for the rest of his life.
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Seven Years Gone 
Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think that you’ll be having your own premiere for a film you directed. To say that you were nervous would be an understatement. You were shaking, breathing heavily and your palms began to sweat. It took you six years to finish the film. You didn’t need to describe how long it was because it spoke for itself. But when you were a woman director and screenwriter, there weren’t many production companies who wanted to invest. That included indie production companies. You even tried submitting your screenplay under a pseudonym but when the production company called to meet you, their tone would change and they’d reject the proposal altogether. When you got close in sealing a deal, they wanted to change so many things about your film—and while that was normal, it didn’t sit well with you. Sometimes, the pay would be so unequal, too.
It was only last year when finally, someone decided to produce your film. Her name was Jo Yeonseo and she had recently put up her own production company, Mercury Features, after parting ways with—to your surprise—Royal Productions, the company you were interning at. She had gotten a hold of you through your record in the company and you learned that she was calling every intern to let them know about her company and should they have a film they wanted produced, she would gladly listen to the proposal.
At that time, you were really losing passion in film making already. You had been promoted from mailroom to office desk job at Valor Publishing over the years and you were slowly starting to accept your fate. When that phone call came through—because you never really got around changing it—you took it as a sign to give film one last shot. You met up with Yeonseo after work at a bar, had a few drinks and you discussed the basic premise of your film.
It was a romantic drama, semi-autobiographical account of your relationship with Min Yoongi. You were honestly expecting her to turn you down the moment the word ‘romantic’ came out of your mouth but she ordered another glass of beer and listened. Once you were finished pitching her your film, she gave you a big smile and told you that she would love to produce it. Of course, you were surprised. You also thought you were dreaming. With the booze in your system, you found it hard to believe that someone was going to produce your film. You remembered asking Yeonseo over and over again if she was serious. She told you she was and you actually cried.
You remembered the first time you stepped into the film set and all the memories came rushing to you like an avalanche. When you wrote your film, you weren’t really trying to be subtle. You wrote it the way you remembered it. You wrote it the way you felt it. Jo Yeonseo and her team helped you build those memories back.
Yoongi’s sister’s house. The dock. Your old apartment. The apartment you both called home. Your bedroom at your parent’s house where you stayed after the break up. The restaurant he first saw you and you first met him.
There was one set that wasn’t built though and it was the bus stop where he walked you that night. Yeonseo got the permit from the city to shoot at the location.
The actors were people you personally chose to play yourself and Yoongi. Deliberately, you made sure the age gap was apparent because it was a central theme in the film. You remembered feeling like you were sucked into a time machine while you were directing them. During production, you watched the memories of your relationship with Yoongi unfold before your eyes and through the lens. You smiled, remembering the happy memories. You lose the smile, remembering the sad memories. But then, you smile again, knowing you have moved past that.
It was first shown in a film festival. Then, word of mouth happened—and here you were, slipping your earrings as you finished getting ready for the premiere. Dressed in a red body hugging dress, you smoothed your dress in front of the mirror before grabbing your purse, keys and phone on the desk. You left your room then made your way down the hallway where Yeonseo and her girlfriend, Kwon Daeul, were waiting.
“Wow, you look stunning, Y/N!” Yeonseo exclaimed, smiling widely at you. She was dressed in a white pantsuit while Daeul wore a velvet one.
“I second that.” Daeul said, nodding.
You blushed at their compliments. “Alright. Come on, we’re going to be late.”
-
The sound of the champagne popping signaled the beginning of the celebration. Everyone cheered and readied their glasses as Yeonseo began pouring them their drink. As you were waiting for your turn, you felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned to see Kim Namjoon smiling at you, dressed in an all black suit. “Joon! You came!” You exclaimed, placing your champagne glass on the table to hug him.
His strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist. He smelled so good. “I was at the premiere but there were so many people so I guess you didn’t see me.” He chuckled.
You pulled away, the smile on your face so wide that it was starting to hurt. “I’m really glad you did. You helped me with that film so much. You really should’ve gotten the credit, Joon.”
He shook his head, slipping his hands inside the pockets of his slacks. “It’s all you, Y/N. I did nothing.”
It wasn’t true. You knew that and he knew that. You knew Namjoon didn’t want the credit because he wanted your first film to be all about you. Even though their band had been in hiatus years ago, they were still very much influential and their fanbase was still as strong and as solid as before.
“Wanna take me out of here?” You asked him. “I’d really like to just eat chicken and drink beer at home.”
Namjoon smiled and God, did he look so beautiful. “It’d be my pleasure.”
-
“It’s not fair that you’re so good at chess! Is there something you can’t do, Kim Namjoon?” You asked, sighing deeply as he took your king.
“I can’t cook. That’s one of the many things you’re better than me at.” He answered, gathering the pieces and flipping over the board.
“Well, that is true. I still remember how you cut the tomatoes when Mom specifically said to crush them.” You snickered, finishing your beer with a satisfied sigh. Throwing your head against the foot of your bed, you stared at your ceiling filled with glow in the dark stickers. “Tonight was so magical, Joon. I didn’t expect it at all.”
“I did,” He said, following your move. “I knew you could do it.”
“You know, he never did.” You mumbled softly. You turned your head to face Namjoon who was already looking at you. “When I told him about my dreams, he would just laugh and say, “Sure thing, babe.” and then went on working.”
“You told him this?” Namjoon asked.
“No,” You replied. “I think it’s because a part of me knows that he’ll tell me I’m just being dramatic about it so…”
“Well, you did it, Y/N.” He smiled at you.
You chuckled softly. “I did, didn’t I?”
“And I’m proud of you.”
“I’m fucking proud of myself too.”
Silence settled between the two of you. But not for long.
“Y/N, I think you’ve known for a while but I like you a lot.” Namjoon whispered.
You bit your lower lip before nodding. “I know.”
“And with Yoongi hyung being your past, is there a place for me in your future?” You pushed yourself off your bed before shifting on your seat to face him. Namjoon followed your actions once more, clearly nervous about what your answer was going to be. Your room was dimly lit; the street lamp outside your window served as the sole light source, seeping into the cracks of your blinds and shining upon Namjoon’s face.
“I’m sorry, Joon. I don’t think I’m ready to be in a relationship yet and it’s not because I still love him—I just,” You took a deep breath. “I lost who I was when I was with Yoongi and for the past seven years, I’ve been looking for that girl and I don’t think I’ve found her just yet.” You smiled at him, sadly. “I don’t want to love you with me being a mirage because, fuck, you deserve the real deal, Kim Namjoon.”
He smiled, sighing deeply. “Not to pressure you or anything but Y/N, I’m willing to wait for you.”
“Joon—,”
He shook his head. “Hey, it’s my decision.”
“Are we still friends?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“Of course, that’ll never change, Y/N.”
-
Yoongi never really enjoyed shopping. Mostly because he was always getting mobbed but the past years, while they remained relevant, they were really able to do normal things that other people their age experienced. For example, Seokjin and Hoseok were now married. Seokjin had a little boy named Kitae while Hoseok and his wife were expecting a baby girl—they didn’t have a name picked out yet. For the younger members, they still didn’t have any plans on settling down just yet. They were traveling and really getting back those years they sacrificed because of their careers. Yoongi would sometimes think about you whenever he would get updates from Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Namjoon. He would think, “Have you found your old self?”
Most days, Yoongi was busy being a single dad. Due to complications, Hyejin didn’t survive childbirth and that left him with his baby girl Gaeul, named after the season she was born into. He still worked as a renowned producer but his working hours definitely changed. He no longer spent ungodly hours in his studio. Every waking moment, if he wasn’t working, was spent with the bubbly chubby cheeked seven-year-old baby.
Tonight was one of those moments.
He decided to take her to the mall because she had been invited to a birthday party and they needed to buy her an outfit and a gift for the celebrant. In contrast to his all black attire, Gaeul was in an all pink astronaut inspired outfit which Yoongi couldn’t bribe her out of not wearing. It began when he showed her their performance of Anpanman on MAMA and she saw her Uncle Namjoon’s outfit and declared that from then on, she wanted to become an astronaut too. Now, Yoongi was a very open father so he encouraged her—he just didn’t expect that when he presented her the outfit as her seventh birthday present, she would never take it off or ask for it after Yoongi finished washing it.
“Jeongho oppa would love this, daddy!” Gaeul excitedly exclaimed, yanking her hand out of Yoongi’s grip.
“Okay, first—he’s not Jeongho oppa. He’s the same age as you. And two, baby, don’t let go of Dad’s hand ever.” Yoongi said as he followed the bouncing little girl as she picked out almost everything in the toy store to buy for Jeongho.
As he was doing so, he was hit by the sudden realization that his baby girl was already seven years old. She was growing up way too fast and he wasn’t exactly ready for that. When he looked at his hand, he felt a sense of panic when he didn’t see her tiny hand in his and even more panic when he looked ahead and saw no sign of his baby girl.
“Gaeul? Gaeul?” He looked around the store, going through every aisle and corner. Yoongi felt like his heart was about to burst but when he turned over to the board game aisle—he felt himself froze. Not only did he see her daughter safe—he also saw you. Gaeul must have hit herself on your cart because she was rubbing her forehead and you were looking over at her with worry in your eyes.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and began to approach you and her daughter. “Gaeul, baby, what happened?” He noticed that you froze too at the sound of his voice. He crouched down beside you, in front of his daughter and held Gaeul’s face in his hands. “Were you running?”
Gaeul nodded, pouting. “Yes, daddy, I’m sorry.”
“Just don’t do it again, okay?” Yoongi smiled at his daughter who immediately wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and instinctively, he picked her up and stood up. Finally, he faced you—who also stood back up. “Y/N, hi.”
Your face broke into a smile. “Hi, Yoongi. She’s your daughter, Gaeul? Did I hear it correctly?”
Yoongi nodded. “Baby, say hi.” Yoongi whispered to his daughter. “I’ll put you down, okay? Say hi, like I taught you.” He set his daughter on the ground and watched as she placed both her hands on her stomach and bowed respectfully at you. Yoongi smiled proudly. “Good girl, Gaeul.”
“Hello, Gaeul.” You greeted back.
“What are you doing here?” Yoongi asked as his eyes flickered over to your fingers—he found no ring.
“I’m just picking out gifts for the kids I teach.” You replied.
“You teach?” He asked.
“It’s more of a volunteer work. I teach them about film. They’re orphans, you see.” You explained and he nodded. “You? What have you been up to?”
“The usual,” He answered. “But Gaeul keeps me busy most of the time.”
“Well, it’s good that you’re present in her formative years.” You said.
“I’m all she’s got so…”
He watched the realization dawn on your face. “Her mom…”
“Hyejin passed away during childbirth. It’s been just us two ever since.”
“Yoongi, I’m—I’m sorry.” You placed a hand on your hip.
Gaeul tugged at his hand. “Daddy, I need to pee.” She said as she looked up at him.
“Okay, baby.” Yoongi told her. “It’s—It’s really great to see you again, Y/N.”
You smiled at him. “You too, Yoongi. I’ll be on my way. Bye, Gaeul! It’s nice to meet you.” You waved at his little girl with that beautiful smile of your eyes and the twinkle in your eyes he remembered being one of the reasons why he fell in love with you.
-
As he waited for the stop light to turn green, Yoongi found himself staring outside the window while his daughter sang along to a children’s song that replaced his music for years now. It was autumn and the leaves were falling to the ground, whooshing away whenever cars passed by them. To his surprise, across from his window was the bus stop where he walked you that night. Suddenly, it seemed like the scenery changed. It got darker and he found himself staring at his younger self with your younger self. He knew he was asking if he could drive you home instead but you were saying no. Then, your bus came and even though he couldn’t see you leaving the bus momentarily to give him your number, he knew that’s what was happening. He watched as you rode the bus, a smile on your face and the bus left.
Yoongi saw himself smiling like an idiot as he looked at the numbers on his palm. Then, the scenery changed back to the present time. Perhaps, it was the universe reminding him of what he had lost because he saw you sitting on the bus stop. You were on the phone with someone, biting your lower lip to keep yourself from smiling so much. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You had changed so much. You were taller, older, more beautiful than ever before because he could truly see that you were happier.
And when a tall figure appeared in the view, Yoongi felt his heart crush. You were immediately on your feet, hugging Namjoon. His mind flashed between the nineteen-year-old you who smiled at him over your shoulder and the thirty-year-old you smiling as you hugged the man you truly deserved.
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© go1denjeon, 2021. Do not post any of the parts and excerpt on any other sites nor translate.
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yoonlattesworld · a month ago
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You can't love me: cold bad boy yoongi x shy reader
Read my other one shots here
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You can't love me:Min yoongi x reader one shot
summary: yoongi rejects you thinking he is not good for you
genre:fluff and teeny weeny angst. highschool au
Bad boy!yoongi x shy innocent!reader
Author's pov
you were running down the hallway of your school while avoiding every student, trying to find him. who was he? He is Min yoongi. your only friend who is also known as the cold bad boy of your school. For other students it was really weird that a shy and innocent girl like you talks with someone like him. you both are the complete opposites. you are sweet,shy and innocent while he is cold and someone who harshly pushes people away when they try to get too close to his liking. You are really intelligent and every teacher likes you while he is hated by them. One look at him and you wouldn't want to approach him. His right arm is full of tattoos and there are rumours that he sells drugs too. But you don't care about them. Afterall he is the first person who talked to you and saved you from getting bullied.
You have a shy and timid nature. And sometimes people tries to take advantage of your shyness. The popular girls of your school always force