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#yoongi fluff
moon-write · a day ago
old-timey kinda’ love.
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summary:  yoongi has found something in you he never thought he could have. pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: pure fluff  rating: pg-13 word count: 1k tags/warnings: many kisses, mention of tongue (don’t look at me), this one made me feel too fluffy jasdj
a/n: for @captainorangegoose​, courtneyyy! i’m like kind of embarrassed to share this, idk like apparently i translate yoongi fluff to kissing. but you asked for good ol’ fashioned fluff so i hope i’ve delivered with this fic. i hope even more that you like it though. thank you for supporting me always <3 
the request
october drabble event mlist
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You loved when Yoongi was like this. When life wasn’t hanging over him like a helicopter, no concerns about a stray camera finding the two of you caught up in love, your privacy splayed for judging eyes to see. When Yoongi wasn’t thinking or worrying whether you knew enough how much he loved you. Craved you. Needed you.
It always made you chuckle, the times he would show that extra attention to you after hanging out with the large group mixed between your friends and his. He’d find you wherever you were, in the kitchen was the last place; you had arrived home after spending dinner and the late hours with everyone. Yoongi came up behind you and rubbed your arms before slipping his around you, his breathy laugh ghosting over your neck after he pulled your hair to one side. Veiny hands (that you loved to see wrapped around you) scaling your body with care, but you could feel his determination for you to know he wanted you. He always did, even in the moments he was too shy to kiss you in front of others or even hold you.
But now, he wasn’t afraid, the two of you alone in his studio. He texted you earlier to stop by and have some dinner with him. His excuse was he ordered too much food but you knew at first sight when he opened the door, his pale cheeks pink with blush from seeing you, he just missed you.
He pulled you in, shutting the door with his foot while his lips sought after you. Giggling between kisses-you loved this. Oh, you loved every form your boyfriend showed you. But this? You loved this Yoongi.
“Hello to you too,” you giggled, kissing him back, “should-we-eat?” He made it difficult for you to talk, only answering by shaking his head while keeping himself glued to you. Somehow, he managed to get the two of you to the couch, safely.
Long forgotten was the food he ordered, too caught up in you and needing to show you by his almost desperate kisses. You couldn’t remember if he ever reduced you to such a bundle of nerves before, feeling the very tips of those butterflies’ wings tickling your insides as he advanced his kisses to the spots that left you flustered.
Time didn’t exist for those moments, feeling your boyfriend kiss you like it was the first and last one he would ever have with you. Part of you wanted to shy away when his tongue touched your bottom lip or when his smile threatened to break the two of you apart. His hands holding you, kneading your arms, or finding a place around your jaw that left your skin searing and wanting more.
But as wanton as he could be, Yoongi always knew when to stop. Especially at work. You couldn’t be upset, settling for soft pecks after some time. His lips were plump now, making you giggle as you reached over to wipe the chapstick from them that he managed to kiss off of you completely.
His dark eyes drink you in, eyelids heavy with love and lust for you. His long fingers stroke yours where they are intertwined. Everything you feel for him starts to bubble over and you almost hate to break this silence-
“This is nice,” you soothe, moving your free hand to tuck his hair behind his ear before stroking his jaw with your pointer finger, “even though you lied about dinner.”
He breathes that laugh you love, the one you can never be without since he’s come into your life, “we can still eat,” he says, tugging your hand.
“I’m enjoying this too much,” your voice is low, reminiscent of the way you talk to him in bed before the two of you fall asleep, “I’m feeling very wanted.”
His crooked smirk makes your heart race along with the way he closes his eyes when you run your finger over his lip. Effectively, you enjoy watching your boyfriend crumble before you.
“Mm,” he mutters, all his love for you present in his eyes, “I was working on a song-couldn’t stop thinking about you and-” he shrugs, eyes dropping to where your hand is held in his, “I don’t know.” He chuckles, his lips tipping up into a bashful smile.
“What?” You ask lightly, smiling with him.
His eyes sparkle like some undiscovered galaxy when he looks at you again, “I just never thought I’d find something like this.”
Biting your inner lip, you ask, “like what, Yoongi?”
He answers with his eyes first, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and you remember who you got the habit from; “you and me.”
A ball forms in your throat and Yoongi is groaning when he sees a sheen form over your eyes, already begging you to stop before you even have the chance to shed a single tear.
“Babe,” you drawl, taking a sharp breath in as you fall forward, pulling your hand out of his to press them against his shoulders. Yoongi gripes as you push him back on the couch until you’re laying on top of him, pouting over him. His hands rest on your hips, smoothing his palms there. Up and down, up and down while staring up at you.
“You have me, Min Yoongi,” you lean your face down, pressing the tip of your nose against his, “you have me forever.”
He nods, moving one hand to wrap around the back of your neck. His breath is slow when he kisses you again, losing count on how many that’s been in the last hour.
If not for the work awaiting him, Yoongi would have kept you there with him all night. Mumbling something to himself, his hand smoothing your hair down before opening the door for you.
“See you when you get home,” you look back at him, your hand held by his. He pulls you back for one quick peck.
His voice is deep and you can feel it against your lips; “text me please?” He asks, blinking innocently, “when you get home…”
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certainlilmeowmeow · a day ago
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 forced you to do there projects and homework. And even who you listened to them every time,they still bullied you after school. You remember that day when you were walking home and gulped when you saw those girls standing at the alley which is on the way to your house. They were smoking while laughing loudly. You tried to get past them without them noticing but failed as one of them saw you and shouted "hey! where the fuck are you going you idiot?!" she grabbed yout collar and dragged you deeper in the alley. You whimpered in pain when she harshly pinned you on the wall and your head hit the wall. They just laughed more and one of them came forward inhaling the smoke and blew it on your face. You coughed loudly with tears brimming your eyes. You throat was already burning because they did this yesterday too. "p-please stop" you managed to say but she just grabbed your hair tightly and raised her hand to slap you when "leave her alone" they all looked back pissed to see who disturbed them only to pale immediately when they saw Min yoongi standing there. "Did you not heard me? i said fucking leave her alone" he growled and they all gulped immediately picking up there bags and running away. You slid down the wall while patting your chest while Yoongi looked at you with  cold eyes. He sighed seeing you coughing violently and came towards you crouching down towards your level. You looked up at him with tears all over your face and for a moment you thought that his eyes softened. But it was gone as soon as it came. He gave you his bottle. He stood up and walked away while taking a cigarette out of his pocket.
The next day you hesitantly walked up to him while holding a small box in your hands. You saw him smoking while leaning against the wall at the nack of the school. He looked up and saw you timidly walking towards him and threw the cigarette on the ground. He raised his eyebrow and you looked at him while saying "i-i just wanted to t-thank you for helping me yesterday" he just nodded and went to walk away but stopped when he felt you gripping his sleeve. Lookin at you he raspily said "what" you just shoved him the box that you were carrying and mumbled "t-this is for you" and quickly ran away. Yoongi opened the pink box and smirked. Amused to see cookies of different shapes in it. He shoved one in his mouth not knowing you were looking at him with a shy smile on his face.
Since that day you started approaching him slowly. You would sit besides him on the ground at the back of of the school while eating your lunch and silently give him some too. Or you would talk and he would just listen silently. You have a crush on him. You liked him since the day your friendship began. But you were always too shy and scared to confess thinking it might ruin your friend ship. But today you decided to confess even though 90 percent of your brain knows that you might get rejected. But that 10 percent of your heart still hopes that he might feel the same. You smiled when you saw him standing at his usual place and called him"yoongi!" He looked up hearing your voice and smiled slightly seeing you waving at him with a bright smile on your face. He threw the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it when you walked towards him "you were smoking again?" you asked with a pout and he chuckled raspily saying"you told me i can smoke once in a week" you scrunched your face at the slight smell of cigarette and said "here!" giving him his lunch . He frowned and said "i told you not to make one specially for me" You just waved your hand and said "it's okay! now eat!" you both sat down and started eating with nervousness growing inside you.
After eating,you put your lunch box aside and called him nervously "y-yoongi" he hummed fiddling with the necklace you gave him. "i-i want to tell you something" "what is it?" his voice colder than usual as he already quite knew where this was going. You took a deep breath and gathered every ounce of courage. "I-i like you" oh god you really said it. But what tensed you more was the silence that came after that. "I don't" he immediately cursed himself as it came ruder than intended. While your eyes widened and tears filled in them but you blinked them back not wanting to look like an idiot infront of him. But he already saw you blinking back your tears as he clenched his hand. "oh okay"you whispered and froced a smile. Thankfully the bell ranged and you quickly stood up taking the lunch boxes "i-i will go now" you smiled at him which he knew was a forced smile and watched you run away. He cursed under his breath and pushed his hair back. That day you secretly cried in the bathroom stall because your first crush didn't liked you back and you ruined your only friendship too.
Since that day you started avoiding him because you know you will break down if you looked at him. You would put his lunch on his desk and eat alone on the roof top. You both were back to your old self. You were bright and bubbly with yoongi but not anymore. And became the same cold boy who never talked to anyone.You didn't knew but that day when he went home,he threw a vase at the mirror cursing loudly "FUCKING HELL" he saw that mirror shatter in pieces just like how his heart shattered when he heard you crying secretly. You again became a scared and timid girl infront of every one. You both didn't talked for three weeks. Yoongi couldn't take it. He couldn't see your red eyes. He couldn't see you avoiding him. He missed your bright smiles. He missed you. But he knew that he didn't deserve you.
You were infront of your locker, taking your books out when you suddenly felt a presence behind you "I can't fucking do it anymore"you heard them mumble before they grabbed your wrist. your eyes widened seeing you yoongi dragging you somewhere ignoring your questions. He took you to an old storage room where no-one was allowed. He locked the door and turned around breathing heavily "y-yoongi why-" your words got stuck in your throat when he suddenly came forward and pinned you on the wall while holding both of your wrists besides either side of your head. "why do you like me" "huh?" you said in confusion looking up at him while his jaw clenched "you said you like me right? why? why the fuck do you like me when my own parents kicked me out of the house calling me a mistake. why do you like me when everyone here hates me. you know that i sell drugs right? you know that i beat up people too then why the fuck do like me?!" he growled at end of the sentence while your eyes softened. he thinks that you are as pure as an angel while he is stained. he thinks that he will stain you too that's why he kept on pushing you. you hesitantly cupped his face in your small hands and whispered softly "yoongi you deserve everything in this world. it isn't your fault that your parents kicked you out. it was there fault. you don't do those things because you want too. it's because you need to. they all hates you because they don't know you. A-and you wouldn't have saved me back then if you were a back person" "Fuck" he cursed under his breath while his tattooed arm snaked around your waist pulling you closer making you bump in his hard chest. You looked up at him wide eyed but before you could say anything,he smashed his lips on yours making you gasp. His grip around your waist tighten and he pulled you closer leaving no space between your bodies. Your eyes closed automatically and you kissed him back softly while caressing his cheek. He grunted and pushed you against the wall gently and pushed his tongue inside your mouth. He kissed you till you were out of breath "y-yoongi" you said but he just growled and kissed you harder, swiping you off your feet. You legs were dangling in the air while you carded you fingers through his hair to calm him down,still kissing. "y-yoon c-cant breath" you managed to say and he kissed you for a second more and then pulled back breathing heavily. Slowly placing you on the ground,he leaned in and put his forehead against yours. "do you still like me?" he asked making you nod shyly and he said "i like you fucking much" you immediately broke into a shy smile and said "yoon" he hummed snuggling his face in your neck "please don't think like that again" his eyes softened and he kissed your forehead making you blush and he mumbled "i won't" you giggled when he tickled your waist and he was about to kiss you again but then "hey! why the hell are you two doing here?! you flinced while he looked back annoyed to see the maths teacher standing there "so fucking annoying"he muttered and held your waist pulling you with him. you bowed to the teacher and quickly hide your face in yoongi's chest when he glared at you. yoongi glared back at him and walked out of the room holding you close to him. That day yoongi took you to his house. Glaring at the men who were staring at you. Those were the same men who purchase drugs from him. There stares confused and lingering making his jaw clench.
Safe to say that yoongi didn't let you get off of his lap, kissing and cuddling you continuesly. The next day you went to school with purple marks blossoming your neck with yoongi's arm wrapped around your waist protectively letting everyone know that you belong to him.
"Mine" he growled possesively against your lips kissing you at the back of the school which became your secret place.
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fluffyydumplings · a day ago
The Handsome Friend of a Friend
Gone - Part 4
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Summary: Jiwon, the guy who had a crush on you during elementary school is back in town. And he’s brought a friend with him. A broad-shouldered fashion illustrator with chiselled features like one of the many marble sculptures that Yoongi swears his life over. But.. ties run deeper than they appear. For aside from being a beauty he happens to be an old friend of Namjoon’s and a fellow part-timer of Yoongi’s. The fun part is, they both seem to be rather fond of him. Maybe even a little more than necessary. And you can see why. He’s one charming fellow.
Word Count: 7.7k
Genre: poly!au / painter!namjoon x sculptor!yoongi x fashion illustrator!jinx traveller!reader / angst / fluff/poetry / romance
Warnings: profanity / bad childhood memory (crying)
A/N: It barely took three days. I am flabbergasted by how quickly I was able to finish this chapter. It was calming to write. And when I reread it, I felt comforted.. This chapter is like a sip of hot tea on a rainy day, a blanket draped over your shoulder..
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Perched up by the window like a bird waiting for its morning feed, shades of olive and forest green paced back and forth against the partly rough yet ever so smooth paper of his sketchbook. A kitty in the room next to that of his, legs tall and strong as marble is broke off slightly on the sides and front - by the help of a grinder and his stable yet skilled pair of hands.
He might not be doing what the Ancient Greeks did, with all the machines that are now available, but that does not make his craft any less demanding or valuable for that matter. It speaks in how carefully yet with great pressure he is dealing with the block in his reach. For if he isn’t thorough or thoughtful enough, days of work and countless aching of muscles will go to waste. And at night, he’ll end up embracing his tired body with frowns and even sometimes tears of failure.
‘Huhhhhh!’ yawning for the fucking tenth time, you struggle to move. Your body is so obsessed with the feeling of being in bed and doing nothing, it refuses to stop.
‘What a nice day-’
*ring ring*
Struggling to open your eyes, you are startled and hit the headboard.
‘Who the fuck are you?!’ you cry and scream dramatically at the same time.
‘Hello..’ it’s an unknown number, but that doesn't stop your grouchy voice from passing through to the other side.
‘Wrong number.. I’m going to hang-’
Interrupted once again, you are ready to punch whoever this bastard is. How dare they disturb your sleep like this? You aren’t done sleeping just yet! How dare they!!
Holy oranges.. You know who that is.
‘It’s Jiwon, baby,’ you can hear him winking (not literally.. But, still) - that cocky little not-so-little bastard..!!!
Freezes up and regrets all two decades of your life. Because damn.. Your choices in terms of friends, suck.. They really fucking suck!
Okay, maybe he isn’t much of a friend. More like, that small little boy who used to trail behind your back in elementary school. Who called you Noona and once embarrassed you in front of the whole school by declaring his ‘love’ for you..
The moment still has you flushing red like a cranberry dipped in strawberry syrup. You told Namjoon and Yoongi the story a few months ago and they both flipped the fuck out and started cackling.
‘Is my pain funny to you?’ you recall yourself grimacing.
‘Yes, honey.. It is,’ Yoongi never stops, his eyes crinkling with what he calls: ‘sunshine moons’. Whatever he says? *eye roll*
‘Y/N, the love of my life!’
Mouth vomit.. Your feet were squirming as you prevent yourself from screaming in cringe at what your ears just witnessed.
‘What do you want, Jiwon?’
As much as Jiwon was not your favourite person ever - 100th favourite person, he has a special place in your head. Okay... Maybe heart too.
He’s the annoying small fry, that irritates the shit out of you, but you’d never get rid of for fuck’s sake.
‘Oh.. Noona! Don’t you miss me?’
This brat! You swear, if you ever see him again, you will snap his head off. Always goofing around with you.
'As if!'
'Ahhhh... My poor heart.'
'Why have you called, Ji?'
'Oh.. Aren't you going to ask about how I am doing?'
'Oh, Ji.. Fine, Fine. Yadi ya ya ya.. How are you doing, Ji?'
'Wonderful.. as you are now talking to me, Noona.'
'Flirty Ji is back at it again.'
'Oh, yes. I've got big news.'
'Did you get rid of that ridiculous bob cut of yours?'
You remember him and his yellow duckling plushy. Sometimes you'd question whether he or the inanimate cotton stuffed animal was that of the same breed. A part of you finds him more of a duck than it was. In the way he'd waddle around and continuously act cute, he was a duck in all of his glory.
The plushy was gone once adulthood reached. However, his bob cut remained the same. When you sent him off to his new job overseas, he still wore it ever so proudly - even if it made him look hideous.
'I did. How did you know? Do you have eyes on me? Are you watching from that camera over there?'
'I can't afford that. Am I a secret agent that works for the CIA or what?'
'Oooh.. Are you?'
'Want me to show you my cyanide pen?'
The beauty of knowing someone for so long is that you grow scarily comfortable with them. You can begin a conversation by talking about global warming and end the conversation by talking about clowns.
'Nooo.. Noona, Noooooo.'
'Whiny as always.'
You miss having someone to tease.
Caught in a lie~
Namjoon and Yoongi are two human beings that are constant in your life. You tease them whenever you get the chance to do so. You simply just missed Jiwon.
'So.. big news, Ji.'
'Don't tell me you are getting married too.'
You've grown into a habit of babbling non-stop. Was it because of the numbers that kept adding up every year, or was it simply because you had a lot to talk about? Perhaps it is both.
'Y/N noona. The only wedding I'll attend is ours.'
That- That- That little shit!
'Guess who's back from London?'
Holy oranges! Damn you, Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon. One has to grow oranges and the other has to live off of oranges. What a pair! Farmer, consumer.. You? You are the fucking orange. 'We both love oranges. We both love you. You're an orange, Y/N.' Says Mr Kim Fucking Namjoon that accidentally broke his damn computer for the fucking fifth time this month. Surprisingly, it doesn't have a gigantic hole through it yet. You might have jinxed it. -ㅅ-
'Y/N berry boo blue, the love of my life.'
You're going to end up with loose teeth from all this grinding. Cringe, I tell you! Cringe!
'Is your place free?'
What the!!! Does he want to stay here? Go get a fucking hotel or motel to stay at! You don't run a resort. This place isn't even yours..
Time to pack your bags and scoot your ass out of here. You'll get a new identity, and toss your phone into the sea. Ewww.. Say no to pollution. You'll sell the phone and get money from it.
Then you'll buy a yacht. Laying down, sipping tea, two pretty and kind-hearted boys on the side, fresh air and the sound of waves crashing. Fabulous. Isn't it?'
'Noona?' pleading voice.
You are weak for that.. Your knees already ache!! fdshggfjhgfjhfjhfhvhjhhvfbhnmbhm
'Yes.. And why do you ask?'
You suck at lying.. Honesty was an aspect of a person you admired most. You couldn't lie.
'I brought a friend with me. He needs a place to stay.'
'What the!! Are you sure you didn't bring a lunatic along with you? What if he kills me?'
'No.. No.. He's a Fashion illustrator who got a job transfer to Korea.'
'And that excuses him from being a possible murderer of some sort?'
'But still.. He's safe, I guarantee my life on it.'
They must be close. You'll consider it. 'Consider', not accept.
'Is he a foreigner? With the British accent and all?'
You can hear laughter spring deep from him. The type that has your stomach clenching and your eyes watery.
'Ahahhhaaa..' his laughter only gets louder and louder over time.
'I can't... breathe,' he really can't. By the way, his word are stuck in his throat, it is evident that he's barely breathing.
'Pure breed Korean. Can't speak English for fuck's sake. Eats Korean, inhales Korean and drinks Korean.'
Man.. He's real serious about this guy not knowing his English.
'Ayeeee!' a rather aggravated and playful voice shouts.
Yep.. Korean. That 'Ayeeeee!' screamed: "If I'm not Korean, what am I?"
'Bring him over. I'll see if I'll let him stay or not.'
You can't let your guard down. You have a profound set of trust issues. Profound set of trust issues? What the fucking oranges. (Yep.. at it again).. Trust issues towards homo sapiens, trust issues towards animals and trust issues towards objects. What?! That panda might be cute, but it can rip your face off. Oh.. Yes! Those pall point pens - they can blind you with that evily sharp tip of theirs. You are already blind.. can't risk your eyesight getting any worse than it already is.
'Are you going to interrogate him? The man's going to pee in his pants. The guy can't kill a fly.. No.. The guy starts running like superman when he sees.. You know what! Not even a fly. He starts freaking out at fruit flies. He's a scaredy-cat, and coward in one package.'
Damn.. What a fun guy! What?! He sounds fun, okay. Fun! Unlike those assholes who act strong, but are weak shit. We appreciate an honest man. Who the fuck cares? Why do men have to be strong all the time? Haven't we established that a long time ago? Fuck those stereotypes. This guy's adorable.. You feel it.. You feel it.. From your soul. And- And- And.. the oranges that Namjoon harvested this morning.
'I'll be the judge of that.’
AHAAHJAAA.. You just pictured.. You and Yoongi playing the bad cop, and Namjoon sitting there and trying to be understanding - the good cop.
'Aigo! Painters are different for sure.. Aigo!' you can hear that grumpy man fussing on and on about how kind Joon is - the grumpy old man that you love dearly.
'So.. Yes?'
'Aigo! Did I say no? Bring this friend of yours over.. I won't scare him too much.'
'Too much? The guy's ready to use spring onions to scare you away. And that's his precious baby. In his words: 'Flavour.' Go easy on him.'
'He's like the older brother I never had. When I first arrived there, I had no one. That's what I thought. Until he came out of nowhere and went: 'Do you want me to help you around.' He's pretty big over in England, you see.. He's also very much familiar with the place I'm working at.'
'He's my life saviour.. Or as he likes to call himself: the handsome angel that descended from heaven to save me.'
Full of himself.. He's quite full of himself.. Interesting.
'I'm going to miss having him around. Take good care of him.'
But if Jiwon is fond of him, you are too. Jiwon doesn't hang around with just anyone. You recall his mother suggesting he make friends with this other rather scrawny little boy when he was younger. He outright refused and cried no. That same boy then appeared on the tv one day, arrested for arson. You remember many other occurrences like this. Jiwon's got a good eye and hunch. You trust him…
*ding dong*
'That must be him..' you poke playfully at Yoongi.
'Honey.. Why are you hitting me? And.. Why are you pouting? I mean.. you look adorable as always. But.. Why?'
Yoongi's care for you run miles and hours and through days and nights. 525,600 minutes are in year. His love for you is beyond that. He might never name a star after you ( he probably would if you asked him to), but every day he assures you that you are his entire universe - you and Namjoon. His family.. The people he would want more than ever to spend the rest of his life with.
'Without you guys, my life would be so boring. You are like chisels that shape me into a better person every day. Without my chisels, I'm a mere marble block.' his head on your lap, and his feet on Namjoon's lap (muscular fucking thighs that Yoongi secretly loves to squeeze), he becomes all sentimental.
You tease him for that once in a while.. Any time your Yoonie is soft, your heart turns into mush. The good kind of soft fluffy cotton mush.
'He's here..' you hug onto his arm - his pretty and cuddly arm.
'I know, honey.. You told me that two hours ago.'
'We need to go open the door for him, honey... It's pretty chilly outside.'
'Okay..' you never stop holding onto him.
Even as he attempts to open the door. Yes.. attempt.. Because..
'Wu-wait! What if he hurts you?.. I don't want to hurt you,' at that he giggles.
'Y/nieee, honey.. That was why you were scared? I'll be fine. I can protect myself,' he pats you gently on the head.
His silly baby..
You might be wondering. Where in the world did sensible Ms Y/n go? Can't a person be silly for once? This is a side of you that exists. There is nothing to be ashamed of.
'I'll open the door in a count of three. Three.. two.. one..' you close your eyes, but then light shines through.
Revealing a pretty face... A really pretty face.. Like, holy oranges. So fucking pretty! jnvdjjdjjhdgjjjdjhjdvjbvdvvvbb
'Jin hyung?'
Wait a moment.. He knows him? And you were scared for a second. Forehead slap.. literally!
'Ahahahahaha. You were scared of him?' This guy used to get startled by the sound of a blender turning on.'
'And yes, I used to work part-time at a cafe. 11th grade..'
You learn something new every day. One thing for sure is, Yoongi looks beautiful with an apron wrapped around his waist. Oh, how badly you wish you could have been with him then. There's no use crying over spilt milk though. It's not like you can walk through some humongous time machine and beg him to not move away. The past is in the past. All that matters now is the fact that he is here with you.
You can now wake up every morning (except for those times where "mommy" dearest actually realises that you are missing and calls the shit out of your phone) to a kitchen wafting of bread dipped in egg and milk, pan-fried to utter perfection. The smell and thought of Yoongi's homemade french toast has your feet curling out of joy.
The best part.. Drum roll please! Yoongi wearing an apron, his morning kisses, Namjoon's back hugs and his deep yet sexy morning voice. :]..
'Yahhh! You can't embarrass me the moment I arrive here. What will Y/N think of me?' Jin's ears are flaring red.
He looks about ready to explode/run away.
'After having to endure the wrath and stupidity of countless of customers, fellow employees and employers you get an inch closer or so.'
'An inch! Yi-yahhhhhh! I'm disappointed.. I thought we were closer than that.'
So.. Is this 'Jin' guy just going to stand outside and continue with looking attractive as heck? He's going to start blending in with his background soon. With his burnt orange scarf, sweater and leggings.. He seems to love the colour. Or is this shade in trend at the moment? - whatever the kids these days say. He's a fashion illustrator.. It could be.
The leaves are pumpkin orange this month, all plummeting to the ground. To gain something you have to lose something - nature is a perfect example of that. Through the shedding of leaves, water is conserved.
Lost is a beautiful process, the trees whisper into your ear. And you admit, it speaks the truth. Lost is as beautiful just as it is painful. The last breath a person takes before they die, the struggle to speak and the sad, thankful, yet regretful smile or frown on their faces as death embraces them. The thought of such has your stomach churning, yet your lips going: 'So.. this is the beauty of life. Beauty is painful.'
But.. seriously though. That gorgeous face of his is going to start looking like a crispy orangey-brown leaf any moment soon. What are we going to do next? Grind him up into orange juice?
'You should come inside.'
You are not dragging a corpse off of your (Yoongi's) front gate. Well, technically Yoongi only inhabits one apartment in this building. Nevertheless, your house. You might not pay the bills or rent, but the fact that you consider this place home is enough. Yoongi considers you a permanent guest. What more is there to it?
‘Thank you, Y/Nshi.’
You have to admit. He isn’t anything you expected him to be. Humble and rather down to earth. Not as narcissistic as you expected him to be. You can’t judge a book till you finish it. I guess Jin will be judged according to that saying - the one you made up in a matter of five seconds.
‘I will introduce my-’
‘I think we should get you warm and cuddled up first before we get to that.’
Oh, Y/niee.. Why did you interrupt him? That wasn’t polite of you.
‘Oh- I’m sorry for interrupting you.’
‘No.. No.. No.. not at all. I should have waited till we entered the apartment first.’
‘If you say so,’ your lips meet awkwardly. It isn’t a smile, it’s an impromptu method of easing the tense air lingering above two strangers.
There are people you meet that will click with you with instantly - like Namjoon. But there will be others that you will only grow closer to within time. The puzzle pieces that once refused to meet, trimmed down to do so.
‘Go on, Yoongi..’
‘Come this way, Hyung,’ his fingers accidentally brush up Jin’s one.
Now that Yoongi realises, it would be easier this way. Thus, he intertwines his hands with that of Jin’s. Cold..
Did he eat a plate of snow for breakfast? Man.. His hands are cold. Antarctica cold~ That didn't matter though. What he was meant to do, was drag Jin’s ass inside. And that was exactly what he did.
‘Namjoon.-ah. You finished painting, Joon?’
‘Yeah...’ he nods, the mocha turtle neck he had on transforming him into the big puppy he is.
‘There is nothing to be afraid of,’ Yoongi informs Jin, patting him on the back.
‘Yahh!! I know that!’ his annoyed face is more adorable than it is annoyed.
‘Holy.. Jin Hyung!!!!’
Wait.. Wait a moment! Another one? Fucking oranges!!
Jin’s list of acquaintances never ends. Imagine Santa and his list of toys - that’s Jin and the people who know him.
Everyone seems to know him. It’s because of how friendly and loveable the twenty-year-old is. He has a lot of charm to him.
You would never accept it for the love of oranges. But.. You liked him the moment you heard Jiwon talk of him. And when Yoongi and Namjoon expressed their feelings towards the elder, you just grew to like him more. You could see the sparkles that glazed their throats upon having his name meet their lips. If a man is liked by so many, there is no way he is bad. Especially when these very people are the most heart-warming and valuable beings in your world.
‘Kim Namjoon.. If it isn’t smart cutie in the corner,’ blood trailed the corners of Namjoon’s cheeks.
‘Do you perhaps know that retired baker that now keeps on burning his bread?’
You were going to go for it. If he knew Jiwon, Yoongi and Namjoon. What are the chances of him not knowing Mr Lee?
‘Do you smell that?’
‘Oh shit.. Is Mr Lee at it again? Close the windows or something.’
‘My heart is burning for you.’
You stood there, mouth ready for birds to nest in. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! The cringe!!!! Aghhhhhhhhhhhdbbfhhhfhfhfhfhgh!!! Hhsjdjdjd
‘Ahhhhhhhh!!’ Yoongi is the first to scream.
If anyone heard him, they would have thought the apartment caught on fire and people were trapped inside.
‘Hehehe..’ Namjoon just giggles to his heart's content.
They were the same as he remembered them as. The one that was all flustered and shy at his jokes, and the one that started screaming like crazy at how cheesy yet absurd they were.
He misses these two. He knew a lot of people, but they never meant much to him.
And perhaps there was even a time where he used to flush over their words. Okay.. there was. Namjoon was the cute guy in the corner, with dimples and pretty caramel skin that he used to gush over and take quick glimpses of. The same guy who he soon gradually got to know through a group project - the one where they had to make a 3D solar system model. (He recalls cussing at his teachers the whole duration of the project.) The same guy he lost contact with after tenth grade.
Yoongi on the other hand. He apparently had been studying with Jin ever since sixth grade, but they never gave a fuck or tried to give a fuck about each other. Then one day, 16.. 17-ish-year-old Yoongi started showing up at all of Jin's part-time workplaces. They started off with cleaning or taking orders not so comfortably by each other's sides, and the next thing you know they are standing up for each other against unfair treatment.
Everything seems to lead to a bomb of dad jokes, whether it was Joon or Yoon. After all, Jin has a great passion for them. Plus.. They make him happy.
'So.. Do we let him stay, or do we throw him out on the streets and let him starve?'
You were messing with them. Someone like Jin would be a great addition to this home. He's all cheesy and gross. Namjoon and Yoongi have been quite out of it lately. They haven't been themselves lately.. Until now that is.
'We keep him.'
...Kitty eyes, yeehaw! Yep, we are keeping him. Just keep up with those kitty eyes, Min Yoongi.
'Can we keep him?'
...Small Namu with innocent eyes. Yipeeee! We are keeping him. WE ARE KEEPING YOU, SIR JIN!
'You do realise that Yoongs own this place, right Joon?'
'Can we keep him, Y/niee?' Yoongi sits down on the sofa and acts nonchalant, despite knowing what he did to your poor heart.
'Boo, it ain't my fault if you end up getting stabbed.'
'Ahahahaaaha.. Did we just witness the 'Y/N' using the word ain't? I should have recorded this. This is a moment that deserves to be recorded down in history..'
'Jin, do introduce yourself.'
You are not letting this man expose you like this. You are very out of date, and you know that well. But.. Min fucking Yoongi, you are getting nothing out of this.
'Kim Seokjin.. 24 years old. Fashion illustrator that is in need of a home to stay. Has extraordinary cooking skills, can't sew, and enjoys listening to the sound of birds singing.'
'I'm a fashion illustrator. I only draw, I haven't got a single clue of how fabric works.'
Straightforward and hates going on and about. Nice..
'How long are you going to be staying here for?'
'Until I find a suitable place for me to stay at.'
This was starting to sound like a job interview more than anything. Scarier even.. Jin is frankly scared of you more than he was that of those snazzy fashion designers that eyed him up and down two years ago.
'You can stay..' you assure him with a smile.
A smile that made him feel accepted and welcomed. One that prompted him to smile as well. Oh boy.. What a gentle smile it was? He's adorable..
'Thank you,' he felt a sense of gratitude towards you.
He would have ended up sleeping on the streets if it weren't for the three of you. Oh, the embarrassment he would have felt if he arrived at work the next day, covered in grime. He might end up getting fired on the spot. Appearance is pretty important over in this field - or any job for that matter. No one wants a filthy rat working for them. It isn't fun having people whisper: This company hires blah blah blah.
Jin would also hate to disappoint his younger self. He loves this job, he doesn't want to lose it. Not after all those nights spent buried under his covers, studying fashion that people preferred and liked at the moment. Not after all those days spent sketching a design over and over again, simply because he isn't satisfied yet.
'Yoonieeee.. What are we having for breakfast this time?' he turns over to look at you.
'Oatmeal.. Oatmeal soaked in almond milk overnight, honey.. Your favourite.'
Ahahahhahahaa! Yaaaaaass! You love yourself some good old oatmeal. It's filling, nutritious and delicious. You'd kill someone for a bowl of that right now. A jar.. plate.. It's oatmeal either way. Who cares?
'Eat slowly. You can't choke and die just yet. You can't leave me.'
You laugh.. The future is cruel.. Life is cruel.. You were aware of it then. But you didn't know how far life was willing to drag you down. If only-
'Because I love you, honey.. Now, eat your breakfast.'
'You have a shift at 12:30 pm.. Eat up.'
He says it out of nowhere,
My heart set up on fire,
My cheeks red from love,
I love this man more than ever,
Oh, my love..
I'll never leave you,
I had thought then,
But I was lying,
Lying without even knowing
'Excuse me, sir.. How dare you say that out of nowhere?'
What were you? In the musical Hamilton?
'Ayee! Ayee! Aye! Eat up, honey,' evil flares up his way.
You evil man.. How dare you! How dare you-
Well.. This oatmeal is scrumptious. Props to Min Yoongi for making this for you. And.. Kim Namjoon who grew these strawberries.
'Yummy.. You are forgiven, sir.'
'I love you Y/Niee.. Uh- mm uhmm.. This is great, man.'
Not another one! AHhhhhhhhhhh!
'What? Morning ritual, Bae.'
Stunned! Yo, Kim Namjoon. Don't 'Bae' me, focus on the bowl.. If he drops it, he pays.. Yoongi made those. They are special.
"If he drops it, he pays." As in, you both get to attack him with tickles and kisses.
'I love you, Joonie..'
You brought a knife to a gunfight, bae.. I'm sorry, bae..
Backfired! Cuteness Attack... A-i-eeek-ag-i-eek-ag
'Just eat, already.'
'Huhhh,' Jin twinkles from the way you interact with one another.
This perhaps is the beauty of love- those little banters, where you pretend you are mad when you really aren't.
Sometimes the sight of their face can drown bad days with joy and make them good, but sometimes they are the reason why you end up crying on the bathroom floor all night.
Yet, you choose to stay for a reason.. Because you believe, trust, love and care too much to even think of leaving.
Maybe Jin was meant to find his way here, after all. He has a hard time believing in fate, however, this.. It contradicts his believes.
'Jin Hyung... Do you want some pancakes instead? I know you aren't quite fond of oatmeal as Y/n over here is.'
'Yeah.. sure.. Why not?'
Eating calmly as ever, you watch over Yoongi's back. People always think of a relaxing day, as one where they are laying on a folding chair, orange juice in one hand and the breath-taking see right ahead of them. Your version of a relaxing day is this. Watching over the love of your lives was more than any beach could offer.
'Pancakes.. For a Kim Seokjin.. I'm looking for a Kim Seokjin.. Pancake 120492?'
Will you look at that? Min Yoongi just grew plane wings and is now looking for his missing passenger. Plane wings made out of pancake mix, powdered sugar and maple syrup.
'I am Pancake 120492..'
'Enjoy.. Don't choke on it.'
'Yahh! Is that a threat?'
'So.. what if it is?'
'Don't fight just yet, children..' Namjoon stuffs a spoonful of food into his mouth.
'Listen to Caretaker Joonie, children.'
'Yes, mommy,' Jin nods, speaking in a rather mocking tone.
And as time progresses, they get closer and closer. So close.. you can't help but notice the way they glance at him - because it's the same way they glance at you. The: 'I love you †o the moon and back.. and so much more,’ glance. Is it so wrong of you to feel a pang of jealousy here and there, when they always will be yours?
It's your insecurities persuading you to believe so. For now, it succeeds. Because when you look at Jin, you see perfection. When you look at yourself, you see cracks.
And to fill in those cracks, you hissed at the gold that could have fixed you up instead of the glue that is now there. You avoided him... Yet even if so, he’d treat you well.
‘We ran out of rolled oats. I’ll get some on my way to work.’
‘There’s this shop I visit often.. They were displaying this cute little brown teddy bear. I recall Yoongi telling me about your love for teddy bears. So, I bought it.. Because.. Because it reminds me of you.’
‘I was cleaning around and saw that your alarm clock was set up to the wrong time. So, I fixed it for you.’
Despite his efforts and kind acts, you remain emotionless.. You were grateful though - for every one of them. You just didn't know how to say thank you. You feel bad.. Jin was too good for words. You were nothing..
I guess by how Jin stopped interacting with you all of a sudden and how Jin tended to pretend that you were never there, your theory was proven. Then again, it’s your fault for being so terrible at expressing emotions.
Namjoon and Yoongi though? You didn't have problems with them.. How is Jin different?
Maybe.. because- he’s older? You haven’t had such pleasant experiences with those who are older than you are. And now you are applying that to him. Afraid to express what you feel.. What if he steps all over you because he’s older and ‘wiser’?
What if he- What if he-
You wish you would have the courage to engage in a conversation with him and put your past aside. You wish you could clear the air and start anew.. Jin’s a fantastic person. And you care for him and enjoy his company.
For, after Jin built a dam between the two of you. You often find yourself peeking over walls or anywhere to get a glimpse of him. To see whether he bought something for you, did something for you or wanted to tell you a bunch of cringey art jokes. Some cringey art jokes you kind of miss.. Like, a lot..
And that opportunity comes quicker than you ever thought it would - you never thought it would come to begin with. Yet here you were, caught right into their traps.
'Oatmeal cookies.. Oatmeal cookies..' you muttered innocently, wandering your way through the pantry.
Your version of a garden-like utopia.. The chocolate pies, Berlandriera Lyratas that are still yet ever so alluring. The Cheese puffs, dandelions pollinated by the wind. The red packet of ramen, fertile soil that is the foundation to everything. A packet of lollipops, green grass singing along with the wind.
There is a door in and out of this garden of yours. A door that can shut close and struggle to open any fleeting moment - that moment was now. For the two guards outside were irritated by the the stubbornness of their queen, and wanted her to fix the problem she has with the newly instated knight. He is an important figure in her life, and they do not want her to regret losing him.
'Nutella.. Nutella..'
Two birds trapped into a cage they willingly entered.
You were locked inside.. With him! With the one man, you tried to avoid for so long!
'I think we're trapped in here.. No- We are trapped in here.'
Face your fears, they say. You're going to tell Jin everything you've always wanted to tell him.
'Let's keep ourselves entertained.. Shall we?' it seems like you were the only one who was trying.
'Oh- Aren't you going to talk? I can't talk all day, Mr World Wide Handsome. Ah- Ah-.. My throat already hurts,' you stress out, your lips jutted out into a pout.
This was the friendliest you have ever been to him. He likes it.. He's been envious of your attitude towards the other two for a while now. You are always so relaxed and chill around them. With him.. your eyebrows contract, your face freezes up and your hands quiver. You couldn't stand him. At first, he thought it was because he was a stranger you weren't familiar with. For that reason, he tried getting closer to you. To no avail, he concluded that you simply didn't want him around. So.. he stopped trying.
When you distance yourself from someone, it only makes you want them more. You weren't like chocolate to him, you were a bowl of raspberries. You weren't an unhealthy obsession his mother would try to hide in the cabinets. You were something he needed, wanted and craved. You were good for him.
'What do you want me to say?' the heat that branched out from his lips traced over your fingers and neck.
The cabinet was small.. You were now huddled together in the dark. You enjoyed having him close by. He was always too far away.
Having him so close like this brings a rise to certain thoughts that were buried deep underground and once out of reach. Even when you barely could see anything, his eyelashes you could count and his eyes you were intrigued with. What would it feel like to have him hold you? What would it feel like to lay against his chest?
'Whatever you want? Something you want.. uhh.. you want to get off of your chest? We could die in here for all you know.. Better die relived rather than frustrated.'
'Ahahhaa.. What type of logic is that?'
There's the Seokjin you missed.. The one you drove away..
'My logic.'
You weren't wrong. He can't do anything about it.. -ㅅ-
'Nice logic,' his eyes rolled all the way back.
This guy!
'Then follow it,' you are firm in terms of sorting things out.
How does he even start?
‘Why do you hate me so much?’ his eyes are big and pleading, he was desperate to know.
‘I don’t hate you, Jin..’
It's true.. You don't hate him. It's just- just- complicated.. Extremely complicated.
‘Then why do you treat me differently?’
‘What do you mean, by “differently”..’
You understood what he meant. You just wanted to stall a little more time.
You know how stupid you are. You know the moment Jin realises that he’ll only hate you further.
‘Unlike that of how you treat Namjoon and Yoongi.’
‘Because you’re older.’
Your father and mother were mountains. Too tall to reach, and never willing to reach down to your height or even turn their backs around. You were a hill in need of attention.. Yet you only got fed with the privilege of being alive. Your height grew over time, but the confidence in you plummeted into a void of non-existence.
‘We’re two worlds apart. I’m not supposed to talk in such a way with people who are older than I am.’
He saw how broken you were.. He saw the memories in your eyes. Your cornea a looking glass he had access to. It wasn’t yours that he saw, it was his imagination reflecting his childhood memories onto that of yours. A small girl crying in the corner, the curtain that covered her tear-stained face the only comfort she could get. He saw that.
He was born the heir to a company he never wanted. The only reason to why he is where he is now is the night his father announced his retirement. The same night he dropped down to his knees and dared to stoop so low. Clinging to his father’s feet, refusing to let go. Screaming and crying for the decision to be taken back.
‘I need a few more years.. Give me four years..’
‘So you can have a taste of that dream job of yours? You know Seok-Woo can never run the company.. He’s not like you.’
‘Yes.. That's all I need. I’ll take over after the four-year mark reaches. So, please reconsider..’
‘You better keep that promise of yours. Or I’ll have to make sure you keep it myself.’
Four years is a lot, he remembers thinking.. Somehow, two have already passed by.
‘I want you to treat me like you do everyone. I’m not anyway superior to you because of my age. You can talk to me, tease me or even make fun of me. I don’t mind.’
Was he for real?
‘Is this a joke of some kind?’ shock morphed into your eyes.
‘What the oranges?’ ‘Oh my!’ ‘Really?’ he could see it swirling in the corner and hanging onto your eyelashes. You tried to hide them, but passion fueled your gazing tool. He could read your thoughts..
‘The thought of speaking against someone that was more advanced in age than I was scared me too. Then I woke up one day and realised that it was nothing. If someone is wrong they should be corrected. Even if they are older. Humans are either wrong or right. There is no in-between.’
‘I’ll try.. I can’t promise you anything though.’
‘You don't have to promise me anything.. Just be yourself.’
You sit there, legs touching and hips attached. You could hear every breath and every gulp he took, just as he did you.
‘I don’t hate you, Jin. I quite like you actually.’
‘Hahhahaa,’ he bursts into laughter, the windows outside being wiped clean not as loud as he was.
‘Why are you laughing?’
‘I like you too..’
You smile. You are glad that he does.
You were a plain white dress buried and hidden among a pile of clothes. He picked you up and glued flowers where he thought you needed them. You are now no longer a plain white dress. You are a gown elegant enough to belong in a fashion exhibit of some sort.
‘I love the teddy bear you bought for me.. I love teddy bears.’
‘I know.. That's why I bought it, silly.’
‘Don’t call me silly,’ you pout excessively.
‘But you are silly..’ he has an evil glint and smirk sewed on his face, ‘Do you know what else is silly?’
‘What? What else is silly, Mr World Wide Handsome?’
‘My love for you.’
‘I knew you would react like that.’
‘Tell me more?’
What a weird person you were..
‘I’m sewing you for how beautiful you are,’ his hands reenacted the sewing of fabric, stitching slowly across the surface of his shirt.
‘You can’t sew..’
‘Ayeeee!! That’s beside the point of my clever joke.’
This man and his self-esteem. How does one become so confident in themself? You ought to ask him that..
‘How are you so self-assertive?’
‘We’re all imperfect pieces of shit. If we don't accept ourselves.. Who else will?’
‘Y/N-ah.. How long are we going to be stuck in here for?’ he pulls you close to his chest.
He loves the way you smell.
‘What type of shampoo and lotion do you use?’
‘I- what?’
‘You smell nice.’
It would take even the visually impaired only a few minutes to spot the red on your cheeks.
He was so close.. He too smelt nice.. He looks so pretty.. His voice is beautiful.. He’s Jin..
You were this close to falling asleep when the door creaked open.
‘Ahaaa!! Our plans worked!’
‘Yahhhhhhh!!’ Jin is the first to scream.
‘You bastards,’ and you are the first to yank on their ears.
‘Honey, owieee..’
‘Noona.. Ouch..’
‘Don’t go owieee or ouch at me you two.’
‘Yeah.. don’t. We could have died in there!’ Jin backs you up.
Your cheeks hurt.. Oh, how happy you are to have him back.
You'd think pumpkins would disappear by the time November reached, but fall wouldn't be complete without one. The carved faces and bright lights might have gone away, but pumpkin lattes and pies were everywhere. The sweetness invading bakery windows and your way home. They were enticing, orange and comforting.. It was about time you picked one up.
'One pumpkin pie and two cinnamon rolls, please.'
You strolled back with great pleasure. Opening the door to a scene you soon were to treasure. They were all asleep on the couch, a bowl of a quarter-finished popcorn left dry and cold on the table nearby.
You are to cherish them for a minute or more. After.. They are to wake up.
'Pretty boys.. Wake up! Choppidy Chop Chop! Today's campfire night. Remember?’
Would anyone be angry to have to wake up to such a sweet voice? If you were being productively deep into sleep, you would. Sweet or not, some people need their sleep.
'Uhhhh! But, Yoon Yoon needs his sleep.'
'Ewwwww.. Did you just call yourself, Yoon Yoon? Ahhh- where's my Yoongi? Bring him back!'
'Ayu..Wady, yu call me - uhhhh.. Yoongi Boongi and Yunniee.'
'Nam Nam is sweepy tooo.'
'Jin-' your hands fall on his lips.
'Wood Choppidy Chop Chop, gentlemen!'
'Alright.. Alright..'
And so they began hacking down pieces of wood, as you help of course. Candidly, you were never good at this.
Namjoon wasn't any good at it either, Jin might have went off track upon the arrival of the insect kingdom, Yoongi got distracted once or twice by the kitty hiding by the trees. The camp-firing life wasn't for you. Is it for anybody though?
As the fire illuminates your faces that glisten with sweat, the moonlight casted beautifully onto the lake's surface. Embracing your tired bodies with its hovering presence. Was the fire worth building? The warmth that bubbled from your inner soul would agree.
'Jin.. Tell me one of your jokes. Because I'm about to get all sentimental,' you manoeuvre your way next to him, leaning against his head and sharing his blanket.
'I'd tell you one about the moon, but that joke is full of holes.
'Now.. proceed with what you do best, Ms Sentimental.'
'Time passes by so quickly, Jin.. It feels like I've only met you a few days ago. Yet, in reality, a year has passed by.'
'We met in October of last year. It's November of the next year.'
'Is this when you confess to me?'
'Honey.. Isn't it great that no one can hear whatever the hell we say here?'
'Yeah.. it is. I can curse at my boss all I want, and he wouldn't know.'
‘Me.. too.’
'Yoon, Joon.. You don't work for anyone.'
'Yeah.. we are shouting at our work-selves.'
'Yahh! I should be the one who's doing that. I have an actual boss.'
'Go ahead, Mister..' Namjoon urges.
'Okay.. I'm shouting now! If I burst your eardrums, I take no responsibility.'
'MR JEON! I FUCKING HATE YOU! FUCK YOU, OLD MAN!' he reacts with his whole body, jumping up and down insanely.
'Yoons, is he okay?'
'Bae, he is.'
'Ewwww... You learned that from Joon. Didn't you?'
'Sorry Bae.. It isn't me.'
'Sure, it isn't Juan..'
'Ayee! My name isn't Juan.'
'What do you want, Key?'
It's always the unexpected that meets with a surprise. Today marks the second year with Namjoon. Just because another ending is approaching, it doesn't mean that there is no room for new beginnings.
Closing up the flower shop, you soak up the flavours of the night.
'Here..' you were soon gifted two flowers.
One a daffodil and another a rose.
'What are they for?' you eyed your boss suspiciously.
The sweet old lady, the parent you've always wanted.
'What do they mean, Y/N dear?'
'Daffodils.. new beginnings.. roses.. love.'
'Here..' you were gifted a bouquet, a white card hanging loosely on top.
'Travel postcards and stamps?'
A bouquet of fucking travel postcards and stamps!! Hdjdjjdjf!!!
'The handsome fellow dropped by months ago and begged me to make it for him.'
*opens card*
Dear, Y/niee.. ._.
I discussed it all with Namjoon and Yoongi yesterday. They said they wouldn't mind me be being part of your relationship. They would love for me to join actually.. That's what they said.. (Is that too straightforward of me?)
We have known each other for quite a while, haven't we? Don't tell Namjoon and Yoongi this. But.. I've always had a crush on them. (pinky promise).. That's far from what the point of this letter is.. aishh! I don't know how to say this.. eek.!
I like all of you. Love.. actually.. (Is it too early for that?). It's true though. I love all of you.. Namjoon and Yoongi seem to like me in such a way too (romantically). I'm really happy they do.
There's one person I haven't asked out yet. And.. that's you..I was really nervous. I know we didn't start off well. But.. Here goes nothing. I hate how I can’t say this in person. One, because I’m busy. Two, because I know I’d turn red and up running away. And three, I'm allergic to pollen.
I wanted this to be special.. I would love to see your face right now, Y/N love. Are you smiling or are you disgusted?
Uhhh.. Y/N, will you be mine?.. (I'm so bad at this)
- Love, Jin
*holds card to heart*
'He was sneezing horribly under that mask of his. He came over to see how everything was, yesterday.'
'You can leave now, dear.. I can close the shop by myself.'
'Are you sure?'
'Yess.. yesss. I am sure! Now go!'
'Are they okay? My boys.. Are they okay! YAhhhhh! Where the fuck are you, Jimin!
‘Woah.. Woah.. I was busy alright.’
‘Are they okay?’ your eyes haunted him, submitting him into feelings of empathy and sorrow.
‘I can’t tell you. Those above me forbid me to do so. You'll know once you view the next window.’
‘What is the next window?’
‘You already know what it is.’
‘The future?’
‘The future..’
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Menu Time!
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glitterzandfirecuffs · 2 days ago
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a love for you // yoongi
"How long is it going to take?" You nudged Yoongi, ignoring your boyfriend's hardworking nature and brutal devotion to his craft. Yawning, tiny dots of tears escaping your eyes, you looked at him, lips pouty, your sleepy eyes giving away the fact that you wouldn't last another minute before you fall asleep right on his working desk.
Yoongi side-eyed you before he pulled your chair close to his, the motion making you feel giddy instantly. A small smile adorned his pink lips as he saw you constantly trying not to fall asleep, shaking your head, squeezing your eyes, yawning endlessly.
"I just have to find the perfect beat to blend in with the melody, and we'll be done". You coughed softly narrowing your eyes at him. Chuckling lightly, his deep voice resonating through the room, he corrected " I'll be done".
Hugging yourself you laid your head on the edge of the table facing your too-focused boyfriend, and you stare at him, still refusing to believe the fact that he was yours. Cause it never felt true. He was a daydream you had laid your eyes upon and refused to look away. He was too kind, too nice, too precious to be yours. He loved his craft and was passionate about it, but the way he loved you, unspoken and subtle, tiny acts of love screaming the love he had for you bottled up deep inside made your heart flutter without wings.
You love him, so much that your heart aches that you can never let him know how deep he had treaded into your heart. So you smile at him, sleepily and gaze at his pretty face come up with new beats, eyebrows knit in concentration, lips curving into a thin line every now and then. You saw him intervene his hand in yours before you dozed off, unconsciousness pooling over you.
You had no idea how you woke up in your bed the next day.
a/n: i am thinking of doing a jungkook drabble next, where it's 1875 and your husband returns from war?! this was random, and surprisingly it was so funny (to me atleast) when i came up with this and couldn't stop blushing at the thought of jungkook as a warrior/husband, but let me know if you have any other ideas cause it's too boring to always be the one to come up with ideas. Alsoo! my first time writing yoongi<3 hope you liked it! ( sry pretty long note for a short drabble)
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oftenderweapons · 15 hours ago
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Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)
Wordcount: 5k
Genre: smut, pwp, slightest angst, plenty of fluff, established relationship, idol!AU
Rating: 18+, minors scroll away.
Synopsis: Set after the events in Illicit Affairs | MYG, Kitten finds the courage to take that step that always makes her a bit uneasy. She finds out her brave decision was way more than worth it.
Warnings: angst in forms of them needing to part because of Yoongi's schedule, and Kitten's toxic ex, and Yoongi's shoulder (he's still injureed in this one). Swearing, very descriptive unprotected oral sex (female and male receiving) face riding, blindfold, sub!yoongi, breast worship (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), squirting, ofc cumeating, spitting kink (? i guess it's called snowballing technically).
Author's note: This was requested by @dani2008aguilar (tags arent working dumblr, fix that) so thank you Dani and another special mention goes to the wifey @joheunsaram who betaed this lovingly (and hornily LOL)
Here is my masterlist, enjoy!!!
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There were many things you had chosen not to say.
First, that you were scared of Yoongi leaving so early in your attempt at a relationship.
Second, that a part of you still feared him finding someone better — more understanding, unproblematic, empathetic.
Third, that you wanted to hide in his bed and stay there, possibly forever, possibly with him.
For now, you were just lounging there, hair wet, body naked and wrapped in a towel.
He was currently in the bathroom, flossing and shaving. He was so neat. Such a maniacal perfectionist.
You snickered at the thought and stood, getting rid of your towel and putting on one of his t-shirts. The glass wall dividing the shower from the bedroom was largely appreciated by Yoongi at that moment. The design that had convinced him and Namjoon both to buy an apartment in that building was definitely worth the money.
Yoongi stared at your frame in one of his signature FG shirts, your breasts and curves making the hem hit a couple inches higher than his usual fit.
Once he entered the room, he laid down on his side of the bed, waiting for you to join. He looked adorable in his light, loose pajamas, so soft and blatantly expensive. It was one of the few items he was willing to spend good money on — with the exception of music equipment.
You found your place on the bed and snuggled up against him.
“Isn't it getting a bit too hot to sleep all cuddled up?”
You blinked at that and scooted away. It was confusing since he was the one who would always stick to you by morning come; still, you let it slide. It would be your last night together before his so-called “cramming-week” and he wanted space. So you gave it to him, no matter how disappointing it felt.
However, it was as if he could sense he had said something wrong. “Kitten?”
He came closer, spooning you. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Mh mh,” you confirmed drily.
His hand suddenly appearing around your waist almost disturbed you. “Kitten?”
You moved away to shut the light. Yoongi was confused.
“Let's sleep. It will be a long week.” You fluffed up your pillow and found your sleeping position.
On the opposite side of the bed, he switched on his light. “I won't be able to sleep until you tell me what happened.”
You shook your head. “Nothing.”
“Why are you upset at me? Because of the cuddles? I was being sarcastic and we both know I wanted them!” he complained petulantly.
“Then don't make me feel like shit about them!” you snapped back almost loudly.
Yoongi froze a little at your remark. “I'm sorry about what I said, ____. I was teasing you but it's okay if you're not in the mood. I'd like some cuddles, please.”
You exhaled and opened your arms at him. He immediately threw himself at you, closing his eyes once he felt you starting to pet him affectionately. “I overreacted. The distance thing worries me.”
He nodded and kissed your chest. “I'm sorry I didn't get you. I should have asked.”
“There's also… something else, I guess…” you started vaguely.
“What is it?” He immediately sat up straight, cupping your cheek. “Are you okay? Is this okay? Are you—”
“Everything is fine,” you reassured him quickly. “It's just that there's something I've wanted to ask you the whole day and I kept telling myself I needed to find the right timing and I kept postponing and I feel like I have no time left now.”
“Kitten,” he cooed sympathetically, fondly.
“I want uh… I— Would you like, uhm… to go down on me?” you almost whispered, your words rushing out of your mouth.
He blinked a couple times. “You want it now?” He watched you blush and look away before gripping your chin and making you look at him. “Look at me and tell me if you want it now or not.” As you tried to avert your gaze, he moved like a snake to maintain eye contact.
“Yes, now,” you confirmed shyly.
He placed his lips on yours delicately, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheekbones. “I'm sorry I reacted that way. Did you feel like I was doing what your ex did?”
You nodded and wrapped your arms around him, secretly so grateful for his understanding. “I know you're not him, but sometimes I prefer not asking than being denied. And I don't want you to feel forced into saying yes.”
“Trust me, you don't need to convince me,” he started kissing down your jawline, reaching your ear and purring against it as he murmured, “I was born for this.”
You chuckled as your toes curled, his voice working its magic on you, as always. “I bet you are.”
“I can't wait to prove it to you.” He slotted his leg between yours, letting you grind against it as he dedicated some more attention to your neck and chest.
“Do you want me to take the shirt off?” you asked, lost in the feel of him so absorbed by your body.
“As long as you're comfy,” he replied tenderly, his fingers slipping the neckline to the side so he could nibble and suck at your collarbone. “We're just getting started.”
You snickered and threw your head back, giving him more of your naked skin. “What would you say if I asked for a blindfold?”
Yoongi slowed down and parted from you, his expression sultry as he looked into your eyes. “Won't that trigger you?”
You shook your head. “I want to focus on the feeling and… I mean, in the past, not looking helped my mind from wandering.”
With a kiss on your cheek, he rose and stretched to his drawer. “What's our safeword, Kitten?”
“Yellow to slow down, Red to stop. Green to go,” you replied diligently, watching him rummage into his drawer until a gummy smile accompanied him fishing out a black silk blindfold. “I use it for travelling.”
You snorted in a very unimpressed way. “Yeah, sure.”
His petty expression made you laugh as he arched an eyebrow and sat on his heels. “We both know you don't want me to edge you, right?”
His tone made your laugh freeze on your lips, your hands reaching for the hem of your shirt and pulling it off, trying to appease him with the sight of your naked chest. “Sorry,” you mumbled meekly.
He nodded to himself and climbed on top of you. “It's okay. We're good, baby. I just need you to remember you are the one who requested the blindfold, so you're in control of it, okay? You can wear it, take it off, burn it, I don't care. It's your own toy and you're in power. Okay?”
You nodded and settled down, propping yourself up.
“I know you've done this before and just avoided it with your ex, but if anything triggers you, you give me your safeword. You're in charge, yes? I am serving you,” Yoongi stated clearly. “You have all the power. To stop me, to order me around, to use me and move on me however you like.” His gaze was steady as he held your eyes with his. “I'm bottoming for you, are you alright with that?”
You didn't know it was actually contemplated in the picture. And the idea of Yoongi being so adamant in his will to submit was not only enlightening but also arousing. “I don't want to hurt you though.”
“I can set my boundaries. I'll use the safewords too if I need them.”
“Okay then,” you confirmed, trying to relax.
He laid on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he touched his lips to yours. “How are you feeling?” he asked, closing his eyes and feeling your skin with his face. The smoothness of your neck under his lips, the warmth of your chest against his cheek, the light sheen of perspiration between your breasts meeting the tip of his nose, his mouth, and the taste of your sweat on his tongue, salty, an anticipation of the flavour of your wetness.
And then the softness of your breast under his teeth, grazing your flesh before sinking in. And then the rough texture of your nipple.
“I'm doing perfect,” you breathed out, running your fingers through his hair. “You're so lovely, baby.”
Yoongi smiled and nuzzled up against your chest. “I know,” he teased before turning serious. “You make me like that,” he praised you before sucking your flesh into his mouth.
“You love sucking my boobs, don't you?”
He stayed attached to you and nodded. The motion made your insides clench. He released your skin with a pop, nuzzling it with his nose to dry it — but also to check that it bruised enough to stick around for a week, while he’s gone. And your blood vessels bloomed so close to the surface that not abusing them was a shame. He would have marked your whole body if he could have.
You enjoyed watching him for a minute before grabbing the blindfold and putting it on. You knew that not looking was in large part an excuse to experiment with him. You wanted the trust. And you wanted to feel him, only him. You would have plenty of time to watch him do that in the future. Right then you wanted to dive into sensations — focus on how different it feels rather than looks.
Something wet, soft, hot circled your belly button. His tongue. And then his teeth nibbled at it. You knew you had to be gooey between your legs. You felt the creamy wetness already.
Yoongi’s hands landed on the inside of your knees, spreading you wide.
Yoongi was never one to believe in the motto ‘the world is your oyster’. He preferred willing surrender rather than reckless exploitation.
But now, with your legs spread wide in front of him and that wet, salty scent filling his nostrils, with the way your breasts moved so blatantly in front of him rising and falling with deep breaths, your folds glistening as he parted them with his fingers, he found the small pearl between your legs. He had been offered an oyster, and he was ready to enjoy every single millimetre of it until you were begging for reprieve to gods unknown.
He grabbed two pillows from his side of the bed and slid an arm behind your lower back. “Lift your hips, please, love.”
You did as he asked, lowering yourself only to find out your hips were significantly raised now.
“This way my neck won’t cramp. It will feel good, I promise.” Yoongi’s words hit two inches shy of your mound, his hot breath fanning over your damp skin.
“Just lick me already,” you breathed out, only slightly exasperated.
He chuckled, tempting you. He brushed his lips against your labia. “What did you say, Kitten?”
You felt your cheeks heat up and your voice cracked a little as you complained — with way less outrage now — “Just lick me already.”
He laughed. And then he delivered.
His first lick was glorious, slow, torturing. He pushed his tongue into your entrance, then he slipped it out. And then he licked up.
It was heaven. And the moment he found your clit, you knew you had the longest night of your life right in front of you.
You mewled.
“Just like that, kitty cat,” he taunted you before his tongue turned serpentine, heading back down and drawing a series of tantalising curves with the very tip of it before delivering three short and dainty licks to your very clit — not the hood, not the sides —, each in a different direction.
He closed his mouth, rubbed his lips side to side against your core, covering his lower face in your juices.
“Any requests? Suggestions?” he murmured, stopping for half a second.
“Everything you did but more and harder,” you panted, gasping in disrespect as he grabbed your legs and spread you wider, turning ravenous over you, sucking your nectar out of you and spitting it over your folds. He was literally in heaven. He was feasting, his mind was hazy and his heart was beating old songs of desire and mirth. He watched your skin glisten, he heard it squelch and he tasted it as his spit and your wetness mixed up. It was so beautiful he closed his eyes and dove into it all. He didn’t care. He was just a man, and you were his object of worship.
He knew he would need hours to feel like he had done everything he could and finally give in to exhaustion. But he wasn’t anywhere close to even a mild tiresomeness, so he got into his rightful position and dug in.
You didn’t know what was happening. He had one thousand tongues. One thousand hands.
He touched everything, tickled every spot, licked every inch, turned you inside out. You weren’t sure you were still you by the time your first high came around.
You needed to clench around something but he refused to give you that, no matter how hard you begged, how much you promised, how desperately you bargained. He gave you ten percent of what a true orgasm would have been by denying you fullness.
You ended up sobbing, pushing, pulling, thrusting into him, wriggling like a feral beast underneath him, trying to escape him while he pinned you down with all the strength he had.
You could only feel tongues. Thousands of them.
And then, while oversensitivity possessed you, he had the brilliantly cruel idea of catching your clitoris in his mouth — and sucking. Hard.
Your hands flew to his hair, grabbing it, tugging at it — away — then pressing him back down when you found out that tightened his hold and made it all even more unbearable.
Yoongi had the vague impression you had to be screaming. He didn’t care. He heard a beeping sound in his ears — it usually meant the head was good. He didn’t have the heart to ask you; first, because he didn’t fish for compliments; second, because his mouth was too busy to talk and he was very happy with whatever it was doing at that moment.
He only stopped when you begged for a breath, which he conceded only because he was feeling a bit too breathless himself.
You tugged the blindfold off looking at him just in time to catch him wiping his face with his forearm.
“You’re fucking insane!” you exclaimed, slapping at his hand as he tried to bring it between your legs. “Gimme ten minutes or something!” you joked — while also being pretty serious.
He chuckled. “Feedback?”
You shook your head and threw it back on the pillow. “I’ll ask for this a lot. But you’d better slide those pretty fingers in next time or I swear I’ll never let you eat me out ever again.”
He kissed your belly. “I’ll slide my fingers in the day you’ll look me in the eye while you fuck my face.”
Your face boiled at the thought. It wasn’t ‘oral sex’, or ‘eating out’ or ‘going down’. It’s ‘fucking his face’, with all the rowdiness and dirtiness it entailed. It was feral and forbidden and so extremely naughty, with a pinch of vulgar and unspeakable.
You loved it.
“The blindfold stays off,” you announced, cosying up into your spot, fluffing the pillow behind your head. “I’m ready.”
He grinned. “You want to watch me, kitty cat?” That was his nickname. The one you used to tease him with. It wasn’t the usual ‘Kitten’ he used with you — he was taunting you.
“I want your prodigious fingers inside me, kitty cat.”
He showed you his gummy smile. “You’re a fast learner. Grab my head, I won’t be happy till I’m gasping for air.”
“You know a job well done,” you teased, cupping his crown and pushing him down, till his chin and lips and nose slid down your mound, rubbing against it in a way that made you shiver. “Just do it again but fuck me with your fingers this time.”
He lapped at your entrance three, four times, letting his drool slide all the way to his fingers — two awaiting just below your entrance. He realised he was rubbing himself against the sheets below him. He wanted a pillow.
He didn’t know how but you noticed and passed him one. Call it the perk of sleeping with too many pillows.
His situation fixed, he turned back to work. He was more than grateful to do so, his fingers inside you started rubbing that perfect spot, the one he had learnt so well with all the random fucking you had done in the last week or so. “Which kind of motion do you like?”
You stared at his face. His cheeks were adorably red, his hair curling at the tips with perspiration, and his eyes were so black, flooded with frenzy. “Try a few, I liked more than one.”
He nodded. “Stop me with the right one, okay? I want to please you, Kitten.”
You combed his hair back, trying to get the best view of his tongue lolling out and tentatively flicking it against your clit.
And there he was: the glorious Min Yoongi. Tongue out, bubblegum pink, eyes closed as he took a larger lick, slurping side to side slowly, voluptuously, sucking at the labia diving in to rub his nose to your folds, to smell you, taste you, feel you.
His fingers were relentless while his mouth assaulted your cunt, robbing it of every ounce of pleasure you could offer.
At some point you realised you were flexing your quads, trying to push into him, against him. He seemed to realise it as he took a pause, using his nose to nudge your clit as he spoke. “Fuck my face, Kitten. Just hold my fucking head and rub yourself over my face. I hold my tongue still and you slide on it.”
You tried to imagine it. “You put it inside and I like… in-out—”
“God no, babe.” He hardened his tongue and nodded, the tough muscle rubbing against you.
“Oh fucking— Goodness, yes!” you sobbed, feeling your orgasm crest over you.
He stopped moving once your body responded naturally, your hands grabbing his hair and tugging him into motion while your hips started to fuck up, against his awaiting tongue.
“Yoongs—” you gasped, your glutes flexing faster, till you felt your hips cramp.
You clamped them shut in response, Yoongi continuing unfazed as he recognised the crest of your climax before you started tumbling down the high at breakneck speed — the same speed at which you were pushing yourself against him.
Yoongi was positively surprised. He had been waiting to see you like this for so long, and now your tits were bouncing as you thrusted up, throwing yourself at him with all your might.
You were unbridled and beautiful and in that precise moment he felt like he was fully serving his duty.
He felt accomplished. The fact that he was also on the verge of his own orgasm was a minor inconvenience to him, one that he solved easily.
“Sit on my face,” he spoke once your clit was too sensitive and you forced him away — his fingers still ministering their attentive stroking against your walls, slow, deliciously so.
“Are you sure?”
“Just sit on my damn face, babe. I promise you’ll love it.” He kissed your belly, then looked at you.
You were sweaty, dishevelled, as if you’d ran a marathon in the middle of August. You didn’t look tired, though.
You were glowing and insatiable. “Okay. How?”
He wrapped his arms around your legs, his hands holding the small of your back. “Follow me,” he said before he rolled on his back and dragged you with him.
You huffed at the manoeuvre, using your hands to steady yourself once you found your hips straddling his face.
“Like this. Good Kitten.”
You chuckled, ready to find a remark when he decided to spread your labia with his thumbs and dig in once more.
“You’re hungry, uh?”
“You’d better remember your safeword because I won’t stop till I collapse.” He was rock hard. His pyjamas were stroking him just barely and he could still feel himself pulse. He hoped at some point he would be lucky enough for you to notice him, and kind enough to offer him relief.
You smiled. “Just this last one, okay? I need you alive and well so you can cram all week and I can fuck you dry next weekend.” You touched his hair. “Just for safety, pinch my leg twice if I’m hurting you, okay?”
He nodded meekly. “Okay.” He looked into your eyes. “I love you, Kitten.”
You licked your lips. You were somehow aware that what you felt for Yoongi couldn’t be just love. It had to be something stronger, something superior.
Or maybe no one had ever loved you before. “I love you too, Yoongi.”
All softness was gone after that. He ravished you once more, tapping his tongue three, four times against your nub before lashing it out, mercilessly.
And then he began to suck.
“God no…” You knew what was about to happen. It had never happened like this before though. Maybe it was because of his fingers hitting an unexpected nook. Maybe it was the combination of all the motions. Maybe the position. “I’m gonna—”
Yoongi was alert, but not worried. You would have already punched him in the face if anything was going wrong.
Instead you were moving faster, harder against him.
He was ecstatic.
He let it happen. He watched it happen.
One second he was sucking your clit, the next his entire face was drenched, covered in a transparent liquid without smell or taste.
It was the first time it ever happened to him — and he was fucking glad you were the first to ever reward his hard work like this.
Meanwhile, you were lost someplace between heaven and hell, your confusion long abandoned as you simply basked in the moment.
Min Yoongi had just made you squirt all over his face and chest and he was basking in it like a gladiator in his crowd’s cheers.
You had screamed his name too, most definitely causing misery to all your neighbours, but you were too high to care.
When you came back, Yoongi was still slowly, diligently licking you, this time with tenderness and dedication. If you had fucked his face before, now he was making out with your cunt, with tender kisses and fond caresses of his tongue.
“Quite a show, my love,” he murmured.
He had loved watching your breasts bounce, your head thrown back, your thighs wiggling at the way you were riding him. And your face — sweet mercy, your face…
He was lost in you.
“The neighbours are gonna hate me.”
Yoongi chuckled and shrugged. “They’ll simply be jealous of not having you as theirs.” He helped you lay back on the covers.
“Fuck, look at this mess—” you fussed immediately, noticing the wetness on the grey covers.
“I’ll deal with that. You go clean up,” he said, drying his face with the sheets before turning towards you, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.
You frowned at how impersonal it felt, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him closer before planting your lips on his, pushing your tongue to his mouth until he opened it, allowing you to slide into the cave where he was still treasuring the taste of you.
And then you felt it, his crotch against your hip. “I’m gonna blow you,” you whispered, more as a declaration than a request.
He whined, but still he rolled onto his back, fixing his arms behind his head, getting comfortable. “It’ll be the easiest orgasm you’ve claimed from me.”
You giggled and settled between his legs, rolling down his bottoms and underwear just enough to free his dick. “Damn, you’re delicious,” you murmured, staring at him, tracing the pulsating vein crawling up his length.
He hissed and thrusted up.
You wasted no time: you swallowed half of him and grabbed the rest with your hand, drooling aplenty to get some lubrication in your palm.
Three strokes and his hips started gyrating, the salty, bitter flavour of him already hitting your tongue.
“I fucking love you, Kitten,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “I fucking love your sweet cunt on my face and your sweet throat around my cock.” You bobbed your head on him even more enthusiastically. “I love every damn thing about you, baby.”
He was so far gone and you were so helplessly proud of it.
He spilled inside you in a minute, and you took him diligently, not wasting a drop of him.
His orgasm was endless and he was wrecked by the time it ended, oversensitivity making him hiss and fuss.
You simply smeared the last bubble of cum he had to offer and headed back up, at his side.
As he stared into your eyes, his eyelids lowering sultrily into exhaustion, you pressed your dirty fingers to his lower lip, tracing it enticingly before he parted his lips.
Tentatively, letting him understand what was happening, you rolled on top of him, only a couple inches separating your lips from his.
You got closer.
One inch.
You opened your mouth, letting a lazy dribble of pleasure roll down your tongue and fall into his awaiting one.
He purred at the gesture, showing you how he swallowed it before he arched up, and wrapped his lips around your tongue, sucking it into his mouth.
It became one more sloppy make out session, where he managed to earn out one more lazy, weak climax as he rubbed himself against your hip.
And then you found yourself laying side by side in the disastrous aftermath of an exceedingly sloppy, wet session of oral sex.
Not even in your worst night you had managed to make half the mess you were seeing in that moment.
“We need to shower. Again,” you commented, Yoongi peacefully kissing your chest while he breathed in and out, his eyes closed.
“Just a minute,” he debated before hearing you dissent.
“Come on, kitty cat. You can nap on the tiddies later. Let’s go shower.”
“I want cuddles,” he spoke through a pout.
That made your heart melt. “I’ll cuddle you in the shower.”
“Can we take a bath instead?”
You chuckled. “We can take a bath, baby.” You kissed the top of his head. You had no idea who was the messier between the two of you at the moment. You only knew it was your turn to take care of your kitty cat tonight.
You managed to slide out of bed and get Yoongi’s favourite bath bomb in the tub while some warm water was running. You almost had to princess-carry him to the bathroom, his face nuzzled into your neck while you managed to make him waddle there as he hugged you.
Then he fussed some more when you had to leave him in the tub alone to change the sheets — thanking the waterproof mattress cover while you changed every single item of bedding, frowning at the three out of six pillows that needed to be washed.
It took you maybe ten minutes before you were back in the bathroom, spooning Yoongi in the tub, rubbing his shoulder and neck.
“I want to meet your physiotherapist,” you murmured. “I want to learn how to soothe your shoulder and back muscles. Your neck too. You spend too much time hunched over your desk.”
He nodded absentmindedly. “You don’t need to baby me because of the shoulder.”
“I know.” You proved your point by pressing two specific points at the base of his neck, causing him to groan in pleasure and relief. “This is why I want to learn.”
Yoongi chuckled. “I’ll arrange a meeting.”
He leaned back into your chest, turning his face to the side and rubbing the tip of his nose against your neck. “I like when you take care of me when I’m tired.”
You smiled. He was the one who babied you when you were tired, spoiling you rotten. It was only natural for you to return the favour just as ardently. “I do, too.” You also loved babying him when he was vulnerable and lovely and exhausted.
“I love you a lot. I want to wear my heart on my sleeve for you.”
You felt your eyes water a little. How had someone so delicate and strong and committed ended up in your life? How was he so perfect, so made for you?
“And I’ll protect it from anyone who wants to hurt you.” It was a pact. He would be open to you, and you would never hurt all the gentle, tender sides he showed you, all his unshielded softnesses. “Allow me to protect you,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his temple. “I know I’m difficult, and unfriendly and rough—”
“You’re not. You’re tough and loyal and determined. And you’re so, so loved for it.” You naturally found his hands, speaking that language he knew so well. You wrapped your arms around him. Kissed his forehead. “You’re so, so loved too, Yoongi.”
You felt him relax in your embrace. “I like it when you hold my hands.”
For the first time in years, you felt it.
“I like it too.”
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bluewhale52 · 2 days ago
Can You Hear It?
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Summary: Things are a little weird in the Min household after Soojin’s visit to the temple
Pairing: Yoongi x OC
Genre: idol!au, established relationship, fluff
Rating: PG with a bit of swear words in the end
WC: 2.1k
Warning: talk about the paranormal/ supernatural stuff, OC is very pregnant and has a lot of aversion to foods, OC goes into labour A/N: this is my contribution to @thebtswritersclub October’s project, with the prompt ‘spooky’ 👻 (I hope it’s spooky enough, I try not to be too in your face with the paranormal stuff- eek!) Also, this was written in one sitting, completely unedited and unbetaed, apologies for any errors!
 ~Part of the Domestic Yoongi Series~
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You wake up with an ache on your back. Sighing, you reposition yourself in the bed, struggling to find a comfortable position. It does not help at all that your dreams have become even more vivid and stranger- why would you dream of doing a bank heist with Taehyung of all people- now that you’re in the last stage of your pregnancy.
“Oof, calm down in there, buddy,” you rub your large belly, trying to soothe the active baby inside. “I know there isn’t much space left, but can you please sleep when I sleep, hmm?”
After a few more kicks and elbows, things settle down a little. You glance to your right, and your husband is still sleeping undisturbed, his cheeks a little puffy and his snores sounding like little cat purrs. You smile at the sight.
Then you hear it. A humming of some sort, and you remain still to hear it better. Is it coming from the humidifier? No, it doesn’t sound like it comes from a machine, it sounds a little more… melodic? It is so faint though, and after a few seconds you wonder if you are imagining it. 
Another kick breaks you out of your thoughts. 
“Okay, okay, I’m going back to sleep,” you mumble while patting your belly. “Let’s have kimchi jigae for breakfast tomorrow, hmm? You’d like that?”
The quiet that follows tells you your son absolutely loves the idea.
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You are absolutely convinced men are a pain in the ass even before they are born. 
You breezed through your first pregnancy. Morning sickness still lasted a whole trimester, but once it passed, your life was back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be with a human growing in you. But it was easy. You ate as usual, you worked as usual, you exercised as usual.  This time however, you are tired all the time. You are gassy all the time. You have heartburn after every bite of food you consume. And speaking of food, the list of what makes you sick keeps growing by the week. Yup, men. They do give you a hard time right from conception.
“No, I can’t eat white colored food.”
Jimin blinks at you as he takes the plate of mandu away. You’re pretty sure you hear Taehyung whisper “more for us then” at the other end of the table.
“Fried chicken?” Namjoon offers.
You sniff. “I can smell the frying oil, it’s going to make me sick.” And so off the chicken goes, away from you. 
“You can’t even smell the oil in this,” Jungkook brings the plate of fried chicken to his nose, before opening another container. “Bulgogi?”
“No,” you shuffle in your seat, your lower back is killing you, “too sweet.”
“What on earth do you eat?” Jin shrieks. “Come on guys, what other foods did we get? Okay, how about this, I know for sure you had this before. Jjampong?”
“I had that yesterday.” You scrunch your face, but before Jin can whine, you point at a container near where Taehyung is sitting. “What’s in that one?”
Taehyung hesitates. “Uh, burger and fries?”
“It’s well done, right? I’ll have that.” You gesture for the box to be passed to you. Taehyung looks around with a despondent look on his face, but he gives it to you in the end.
“That’s even greasier than the fried chicken, Noona.” Jungkook pipes in.
“So?” You take the first bite of the burger and immediately know you will regret it. The heartburn is going to be a hellish one. But, who cares. It’s the only food from the parade of foods that does not make you sick at first sight.
“Let her eat whatever she wants,” your husband finally sits down next to you, his hand automatically on your lower back, massaging it. “She’ll be stuck with confinement food soon, so let her enjoy this as much as she can.”
You smile triumphantly at the men around your dining table. Men are a pain in the ass, but definitely not your Min Yoongi. 
“So, funny story,” you say after swallowing a mouthful of fries, “our mothers took Soojin to the temple yesterday. You know, to pray for smooth delivery and all that since I’m pretty much due to pop anytime now. And guess what? A monk there told them that she has guardians.”
“Oh really? Like angels?” Taehyung asks.
“Yeah, something like that. He said he could see two figures with her. One is dressed like a warrior and the other a scholar.” You giggle, finding the whole thing amusing. “And, she’s gotten to calling them Warrior Kim and Scholar Park.”
Jimin beams and sits up straighter. “Well, we know where Scholar Park is from. The question is, who inspired Warrior Kim?”
“Definitely me. She watched that Dalbang episode, the BTS Village in Joseon era. So yes, Warrior Kim is me.” Taehyung declares proudly before giving Jimin a high five.
“Wait, what makes you think Soojin named her guardians herself? It could be that those are their real names.” Namjoon interrupts.
“What, like they talked to her and introduced themselves to her?” Hoseok asks nervously.
You shrug. “She’s drawn them, like they’re her new imaginary friends. And yes Tae, she definitely took inspiration from that Dalbang episode. She drew Warrior Kim wearing blue clothes, just like the one you wore.”
“Can they really talk to her though?” Yoongi ponders.
“It’s pretty cool to have a warrior AND a scholar as your guardians.” Jungkook nods his head, seemingly in deep contemplation while he devours the fried chicken. 
Now that all seven men have something to say about your daughter’s new supernatural friends, you drown out the conversation around you. You place the box of fries on your belly- your makeshift table- and lean back in your chair to watch your husband and his brothers, bickering, laughing, and teasing each other. It is nice. You feel very content.
Then you hear it again, the humming. It’s a little louder this time, and you know for sure that this is not your imagination. You struggle to sit up in your chair, and your movement must have alerted Yoongi.
“Babe, what is it?”
“Do you hear that?”
The table falls silent immediately. 
“The humming? Do you hear it?”
Everyone seems to hold their breath for a few seconds. You look around. The humming is so clear in your ears and yet no one else seems to be able to hear it.
“Humming? I don’t hear anything.” Yoongi finally says.
“Really?” You turn to your husband, then to the other men on the table. “You don’t hear anything at all?”
They shake their heads.
“Maybe it’s the fridge?” Jin tilts his head.
“No, no, definitely not the fridge. It’s not mechanical. It’s melodic, like someone humming a song.”
Everyone turns to Hoseok immediately. “Were you humming something?” Namjoon asks. Hoseok shakes his head.
“He was making those boing-boing noises, but definitely not humming.” Jimin asserts.
“Am I the only one who hears it? I’ve been hearing it since yesterday, almost non-stop. Yoongs, you don’t hear it at all?”
“What does it sound like? Can you hum it to us?” Yoongi’s hand is on your back again, caressing it. You wonder if you look as flustered as you feel.
You try your best to replicate the melody, and you pout as the men shake their heads again. “Seriously, you guys don’t hear anything?”
More headshaking. This is starting to get you. The humming is not really annoying, but it is driving you up the walls that you are the only one in the whole apartment that hears it. Is it maybe your pregnancy brain that is making you hear things? You move around in your seat some more. Not only are you hearing imaginary sounds, the pain in your back just does not get any better. 
“You okay?” You feel Yoongi shuffling closer to you. 
“Yeah, just my back. It’s this dull ache that just won’t go away.” You wave a dismissive hand.
The conversation on the table resumes, although a little more restraint now, the men still confused by what you said as well as by the look on your face, until Soojin comes back home after a day out with her grandmother. The mood is immediately lifted, the five year old basking in the attention her uncles give her. The pain on your lower back gets better.
“Eomma!” Soojin lurches forward to hug you, while Yoongi walks her grandmother out. 
“Hi baby,” you tuck her hair behind her ears. “Did you have fun?”
“Yes! And you won’t believe what Scholar Park told me!”
You glance over her head towards Jimin. He looks as shocked as you are. 
“What did he say?”
“He said I will meet the baby tomorrow! I’m so excited!”
Your eyes widen and you force the smile to remain on your face. “Wow, is that so? Tomorrow?”
The girl nods happily, then demands to know which of her uncles has finished dinner so that she can show him the drawings of her new friends in her room. Taehyung volunteers, and as he follows your daughter to her room, he squeezes your shoulder.
“Jimin, what did you say to Soojin?” Hoseok whispers sharply.
“I swear, I did not say anything like that to her! I just greeted her and you know, teased her that she’s going to be a big sister soon, but no way I predicted when Noona was going to give birth!”
“You think Scholar Park- as in Scholar Park her supernatural friend- told her?” Jungkook turns to you, eyes wide as saucers.
You laugh helplessly as you rub your back. The dull ache has returned.
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You sit on the edge of the bed as Yoongi positions himself behind you. Armed with massage oil, he is determined to help you sleep better tonight.
“Yoongs, listen, the humming again.”
His hands freeze behind you. “Babe, I still don’t hear anything.”
You groan in frustration and then in bliss from what your husband is doing to your back. “Right there, that’s the spot.”
“Maybe it’s just your body telling you to get ready for birth, babe,” he offers. 
“I hope so,” you sigh, “or I’m going crazy.”
“Well, hum it to me again. Maybe I can make it into a song.”
You chuckle; somehow you knew he was going to say that. So you do as he asked, humming the melody as you hear it, repeating it to him as best as you can, and he starts to hum along with you. 
“It sounds like a lullaby.” He comments.
“Yeah, it’s quite nice, isn’t it?” 
“It is a lullaby.”
You both turn towards your bedroom door suddenly, finding your daughter in her nightdress clutching the purple whale stuffed toy. 
“Warrior Kim said it’s a song his mom used to sing to him when he was my age.”
You hear Yoongi whisper “shit” behind you. 
“Soojin-ah, why don’t you sit here with us,” you pat the space on the bed next to you, “and tell us more about Warrior Kim and Scholar Park?”
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You grip the seat belt tighter as another contraction takes over your body. 
“Fuck, Yoongi, no more kids after this I swear. AAAAH- ”
Your husband pats your thigh. “Almost there, babe, I’m driving as fast as I can. Legally.”
“Just five more blocks, Noona,” Jungkook reaches for your shoulders from the backseat. “Just breathe.”
“Doctor said he’s waiting at the VIP entrance. Whole team is there for your arrival.” Jin informs you. “And… Taehyung is reporting that Soojin is back asleep and that there is no sign of ghosts, Jimin is with your moms and he will take them to the hospital later, and Joon is staying in the dorm with Hobi because he doesn’t want to be left alone right now.”
“Thanks for the update, hyung.” Yoongi says dryly. 
You pant heavily. You can see the hospital building coming into view, just as dawn starts breaking. “Epidural. Tell them I want it.”
“Okay, okay, I’m texting the doctor now.” Jin responds from the back.
“Wow, Scholar Park got it right,” Jungkook continues to massage your shoulders. “We’re meeting baby Min right as he predicted.”
You tense again as you feel another bout of contraction coming. “Yeah, no shit.” You hiss. Despite the pain that is incapacitating you, you make a mental note to have a talk with the monk at the temple. Once this whole giving birth thing is done.
The humming is back, and you want to cry. You don’t need this right now. But you feel a hand on your thigh, and when your contraction has passed, you find your husband, looking at you, half-singing the lullaby from a bygone era. 
It is not so bad when it comes from him. Not so bad at all.
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Published 22102021, crossposted to my ao3.
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404gendernotfound · a day ago
Take Me Home Part 2 (Hybrid!Yoongi x Reader)
Summary: After Yoongi had slept in your bed with you he noticed that you weren’t too bad of a person and you began to get attached to him even quicker as you had thought.
Contains: fluff, a little bit of angst
Warnings: none
Wordcount: 2,5 K
Part 1
Waking up the next day while still feeling Yoongis embrace was wonderful. He was sleeping peacefully in my arms and his tail was wrapped around one of my legs under the blanket to keep me from moving away. I smiled as I looked at his face. He looked so damn pretty in the morning sunlight. Scanning his face, I noticed all the small scratches he had all over his neck and cheeks. I slowly moved one of my hands from his back to his neck and cautiously traced some of the scratches. I wasn’t sure if these were wounds from being out on the street for days or maybe weeks or if someone purposefully had hurt him like that. Either way seeing him hurt made me feel angry and want to protect him even more. He must have noticed that I was slowly caressing his neck since he started to move and slowly opened his eyes.
“Hey”, I whispered and softly smiled at him.
“Hi”, he said in a tiny voice.
Yoongi still looked so sleepy that one could think he would fall asleep again any second. He snuggled closer to me and buried his face in the crook of my neck.
“Someone’s sleepy”, I said slightly laughing and noticed him nod.
I didn’t mind staying a little longer in bed and cuddling a bit more with this cute white tiger next to me.
“Did you sleep ok?”, I asked in a still quiet voice.
He nodded and tightened his grip around me. I moved so that I was laying on my back now with Yoongi laying on top of me. His head was now resting on my chest and his tail that was wrapped around my leg before had moved around my waist. The way he was clinging to me was making my heart flutter.
“Am I too heavy?”, he asked after some time and looked up at me.
“No. Don’t worry”, I assured and softly pet his head.
“You’re a really cuddly one, aren’t you?”, I giggled and continued to softly caress his back.
“Shut up. This is an exception”, he growled.
“Of course”, I whispered smiling.
We stayed cuddling a little bit longer before Yoongis stomach started to growl. He looked at me with slightly red cheeks.
“Someone’s hungry. If you let me stand up I can make us some breakfast and you can stay in bed. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good”
He rolled over so I could stand up and instantly snuggled back into the blanket as I left the bed. I grabbed some comfortable clothes and walked into the bathroom first to get changed before heading to the kitchen. Since I didn’t really know a lot about what Yoongi liked I decided to just make some sandwiches and bacon & eggs so he could choose what he wanted to eat. I also made some cocoa and coffee and placed everything on a tray before walking back to the bedroom. I was glad I left the door slightly opened as I left or I would have had a problem since both my hands were occupied. I walked into the room and placed the tray on my desk.
“I didn’t know what you like so I just prepared some things so you can choose”
As I didn’t get an answer I turned towards the bed again just to see that Yoongi was sleeping peacefully again. I quietly walked over and kneeled in front of the bed, slightly leaning onto the mattress. I reached out with my hand and softly stroked his cheek. Seeing him like this made me want to let him sleep more since he seemed to finally get some good rest. I decided to leave him alone for some time. He needed to rest and he could just eat later when he woke up. I took the food with me back to the kitchen and closed the door to the bedroom. While I ate breakfast I scrolled through social media and checked the news. There was nothing interesting going on so I decided to just chill in the living room after I was done with eating. I walked to the couch and let myself fall onto it. While I lazily zapped through the channels I heard a door open and shortly after that Yoongi stood next to the couch with a still very tired looking face. Instead of saying anything he just walked over to me and crawled on top of me. I had to giggle at his behaviour.
“Did you miss me?”, I asked smiling and looked at the white tiger as he snuggled closer.
“No. Of course not. The bed was just feeling cold”, he said.
“Sure. Whatever you say”
I continued to watch tv while slowly stroking Yoongis back. He seemed to enjoy being near me even though he couldn’t stand me yesterday as I brought him here. I guess he noticed that he didn’t have to fear anything while he was with me and decided to open up a little bit. I still didn’t really know anything about him but I was sure that he would tell me one day when he felt like he could share it with me. His stomach growled after some time but he just ignored it.
“Don’t you wanna eat something? You didn’t have anything since last night”, I asked a little concerned about his health since he must be starving.
“No it’s fine. I’m ok like this”, he answered and buried his face in my neck again.
“Are you sure? You can eat. I’ll make you something”, I suggested but he shook his head.
“I don’t need it, ok?”, he said, his tone now a bit angrier than before.
I decided to let it slide for now. I couldn’t force him to eat and maybe there was a reason he didn’t want to eat that I didn’t know about. Some time passed after that. We were still laying on the couch snuggling as the doorbell rang twice. I instantly noticed Yoongis body beginning to tremble. Was he scared?
“Just a second”, I screamed towards the door as I tried to sit up.
“I’ll be right back. You stay right here, ok?”, I asked Yoongi who was now sitting on the couch with his legs pulled to his body.
He just nodded before I walked towards the front door. I opened it quickly just to see a delivery guy standing in front of it.
“A delivery for Ms. Y/L/N”, he said and handed the package over to me as I nodded.
“Have a nice day ma’m”, he added as he left again.
“You too”
I closed the door again and left the package at the entrance. It was probably just some clothes I had ordered some time ago that I forgot about. I walked back to the living room to check on Yoongi. He still looked scared as his eyes found mine. I got on my knees in front of the couch and cautiously reached out for his hands.
“Are you ok? That must have scared you, right?”
He nodded and brushed away a single tear that must have had left his eye just a second ago. He stayed quiet for some time before he signaled me to sit down next to him. I sat down on the couch right next to him and watched as he leaned his head against my shoulder before he spoke again.
“My previous owner used to ring the bell two times as a sign that he was home and that I could come out from my hiding place.”, he mumbled under his breath.
“Were they the ones that abandoned you?”, I asked in a soft voice.
“Yes…I loved them a lot but…I just wasn’t good enough”, he whispered and his voice almost gave up on him.
His body was still trembling even thought it’s already been some time since the doorbell rang. He must really have bad memories from his previous owner that it affected him this much. Since I didn’t want to ask him any further questions to not make him feel uncomfortable I just got up and grabbed a blanket to wrap around the still scared white tiger. Yoongi instantly snuggled into the fluffy blanket and looked up at me as I stood in front of the couch.
“Tell me what’s your favorite food”, I said in a soft voice since I didn’t want to startle him.
His eyes suddenly started to sparkle, but before he said anything he averted his gaze as if he was trying to avoid me seeing his excited face. It took some time until he actually answered.
“I like anything with duck. But you don’t have to make something if you don’t like it. I’m fine with anything”, he explained and then looked back at me.
“I mean I will have to go get grocery shopping on Monday, but I’ll make you a really nice grilled duck. How does that sound?”, I asked and his eyes sparkled as he nodded enthusiastically.
“Good. For now I’ll just make you some sandwiches so you’ll get at least something in your stomach. Any preferences?”
He shook his head and watched me as I walked towards the kitchen. I prepared a few simple sandwiches for him and then returned to the living room. Yoongi seemed to have calmed down again since he was sitting normally on the couch again, but still wrapped into the blanket. I guess he really liked it. I placed the plate with the sandwiches on the table and sat down next to him. He looked at me as I sat there as if he was waiting for something.
“You can dig in. They’re all yours”
I didn’t have to tell him twice since he literally started to dig in. One sandwich after the other vanished, quicker as one could even imagine. After Yoongi was done he laid down with his head resting on my lap and looking up at me. He had a satisfied smile on his face as he closed his eyes and enjoyed as I let my hands comb through his fluffy hair. Thinking back at our previous conversation I couldn’t believe how his previous owner could make him think that he wasn’t enough. I was curious about what happened to him so that I could understand his actions and temper better but at the same time I didn’t want to push him to tell me something he maybe wasn’t ready to tell me yet. After some time of silence with just the TV on as background noise Yoongi started to speak again.
“You are a really weird human.”, he just said and opened his eyes again to look at me.
I had to chuckle at his weird realization and looked at him with a questioning look. I was really curious where that thought came from.
“You kept up with my temper even though I must have really annoyed you yesterday. But you didn’t seem to care about my bad behavior. You brought me here without hesitation as if it was the most normal thing to do. I’m still confused why you did that but I’m thankful for it. Being out on the street really showed me what a cruel world it is out there, especially when you are a rare hybrid like me.”, he explained and paused so he could sit up and lean his body against mine.
“I’m happy that you took me in and that you seem to care about my wellbeing. I mean…I still don’t know much about you…but I can see that you are a good human with a kind heart. And even if you feel like you can’t handle taking care of me because I can be pretty hard to deal with I wouldn’t judge you if you would search for a better home for me. I understand that I can be pretty difficult to read and that I might act the opposite of what I’m saying but I promise that I don’t mean any harm. I swear.”, he continued and the more he talked the more I noticed tears build in my eyes.
I usually wasn’t the type to instantly get emotional but his words touched somewhere deep in my heart. As he was done with his speech I pulled him into a hug. He seemed to be confused for a second before he hugged me back and nuzzled his face into my neck making me able to feel his slight smile against my skin.
“You really are a sweetheart.” I mumbled and quickly brushed the tear from my face.
Yoongi snuggled even closer after hearing my praise and wrapped his tail around my waist again. I guess this was his way of telling me that he really appreciated me without actually having to say it out loud. We separated from the hug after some time and Yoongi looked at me with a huge smile on his face. Seeing him this happy automatically made me happy too. I cautiously took his hands and looked at him.
“I promise you that from now on I will be my best self and try to give you what you deserve. A loving family that doesn’t tell you what you can and can’t do. Someone who let’s you be whoever you chose to be and treats you the way you deserve to be treated”, I promised and watched Yoongis expression change from a smile to a slightly worried face.
“But I’m really not easy to deal with. I don’t want to disappoint your expectations but I can be a real pain in the ass. I might just make your life harder”, he tried to argue but I just shook my head.
“That doesn’t matter to me, Yoongi. I’ll be there for you when you are having a hard time and even when you might be a pain in the ass sometimes I’ll still love you just as much as during other times. So don’t even worry about that.”
“Thank you”, he said as he fell into my arms again.
He seemed like he couldn’t believe a word I had just said. I guess he still had to get used to me being a person that would dedicate her entire life to making the people they love feel loved and cherished at every time. Just now I noticed the quiet sniffling coming from Yoongi. I looked down at the lightly crying hybrid and softly lifted his face by his chin.
“Don’t cry. I know it might be hard to believe but you deserve to be loved. I’ll make sure to make you feel that every day from now on.”
I softly brushed his tears from his cheeks and watched him press his face against my hand. His crying stopped shortly after and his face showed the cutest smile I had ever seen from him.
“I’m really glad you found me”, he said and snuggled closer to me again.
“Me too.”, I whispered and pressed a soft his to his head.
I never felt this happy before. I was really glad that he allowed himself to trust me even though I was practically a stranger but he must be feeling that he was safe with me from now on.
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sor-vette · 2 days ago
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Chapter Five... The Pumpkin, The Scarecrow and the Imperial Messenger
Has no one ever told you not to rifle through old attics? Has no one ever told you that if you find old vintage rings that seem to have a mind of their own, the one thing you should definitely not do is to wear them? Well maybe they have, but it’s October 31st and you’re in desperate need of good accessories. And as such the next thing you know, there is a man named Yoongi in your bedroom and he insists that you’ve just married the King of the Otherworld.
▶ t/w: smidge of violence, sort of murder (?)
▶ word count: 3.8k
▶ Interested in this story?
▶ Interested in reading something else?
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Your every step echoes and bounces from the stone floors to the oppressive monoliths supporting the ostentatious ceiling. Even in the dark of the night wherever your eye lands there is gold, jewellery, rich satin and silk adorning every nook and cranny of the cold room.
You advance further, eyeing warily through the clouds of smoke curling around the air like a sprawling wave of fog. Incense. With a scent so pronounced, it makes you gag and feel sick in the pit of your stomach. Behind it all you already know who is sitting there, who is waiting for you - the lazy tiger anticipating the unsuspecting and stupid deer to bounce right into its mouth.
Amidst the smoke and glimmering gold he sits like the Devil, proudly sprawled on his throne made of bone. You can’t see his face, the vapour prohibits you from doing so, but you can feel the haughty, sharp smirk, mocking your flimsy defences.
“Where are you going to go?” he says, somehow in your mind, as though he’s selfishly burrowed a hole inside your very being, claiming it as his new home.
“Where can you hide from me? That ring is mine, that hand is mine, you are mine.”
He laughs. Unsettling, unhappy laugh. Even in victory, he seems so miserable. You don’t feel fear though, just disappointment.
As if he was a dear friend, making all the wrong choices.
A hand presses around your mouth, stifling your scream, lips brushing the curve of your ear.
“Don’t scream,” Yoongi whispers sternly as you rouse from the shallow surface of the dream, the ill-sounding laughter still rattling in your brain.
It’s morning, day? You can’t tell but the room is lighter and Yoongi is pushing you away from the bed, one arm tightly wrapped around your waist, the other firmly closed around your mouth. You furrow your brows in bewilderment. The fear comes when Yoongi nudges you to the open window. If you focus enough, through the upset howls and screams that more and more occupy your hearing, you can make out a distinctly solid horde of footsteps. Yoongi’s eyes narrow dangerously at the closed door, it’s propped with all the furniture available in the room. You stiffen in his grip. Someone was after you. The King most likely.
“When I say jump, jump!” he hisses in your ear, urgently letting you go. You shudder at the cold wind that blows through the pale yellow in the sky. There is a kick to the door and the stack of mats and the folding screen tremble underneath its force.
After three brutal slams, the door comes down and you can hear Yoongi’s yell. You jump, not really following what was happening until you hit the flat of the porch overhang which prevents you from fumbling into the ground right away but makes it no less painful. You roll awkwardly off it and crash against the dirt road. Yoongi joins you a second later, haphazardly pulling you up and away. He clutches your palm with crushing strength, running so fast the world becomes merely colours bleeding out. Through it all, you look back. In the window of the hotel, there is a man standing there. Tall and ominous he stays there like a painted shadow before simply evaporating into thin air.
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“I-I can’t - I can’t anymore,” you fall to your knees, panting helplessly. Somewhere near, Yoongi tries to urge you to move before he too collapses clutching at his chest.
You’ve come to a clearing in the forest where pale lights swarm lazily around you. Once they get close enough you can distinguish soft airy giggles from their high-pitched whizzing.
“We need - need to get- get out,” Yoongi wheezes, steadying himself against a singular rock. In the middle of it, there’s a gap and in the back of your mind, you wonder whether this could be the same stone Arthur was meant to pull out the famed sword. You wouldn’t at all be surprised at that.
“They sent Dryads after us, the - the forest is not safe.”
With screaming, pulsating limbs you both stumble out of the giggling shrubbery and out in front of a ripe-smelling orchard valley, with a homely small sign, embedded in the ground.
“Welcome to Brary!”
Below it there was an added scribble, in large red letters, exclaiming:
“Why the fuck do I need to be married? What is with this place and marriage?” you grumble, squeezing the side of your stomach, blood pooling in your mouth.
Yoongi doesn’t provide an answer, nonetheless, when you enter Brary he lingers much closer, as your thigh occasionally brushes his own. You walk in confused silence, craning your neck left and right.
The Otherworld didn’t seem to have a singular architectural style. King’s Town before had been an opulent breeding ground for delicate wooden twirlings, narrowly squeezed buildings, bustling with colours of an avid nightlife. Brary was less than a town, a village mostly. Large ploughing fields separating sparse houses lined together with that same cobbled road. You begin to think it was the same as for the heroes of childhood stories - the same path leading you simultaneously away and back to home. The sky is light and clear, despite it you can’t see a single ray of sun… you couldn’t see the stars either. Could it be that they didn’t exist here? Wasn't it impossible? Wasn’t it not impossible? It was after all a whole other reality.
Birds part around from the scattered scarecrows with gawking, brusque caws. You fear they want to claw your eyes out, so you momentarily press yourself against Yoongi before you understand what you’re doing and take a step away. He gives you a questioning side glance but doesn’t press upon it.
“What exactly are you planning?”
“Could you make some sense this morning?” he swats at you with his hand, not even remotely malicious.
“You said “They sent Dryads after us”. By “They” you meant the Imperial Forces right?”
“So Your Majesty has a working brain, my congratulations,” once again the snarkiness seems almost played. An act he’s clinging to for his dear life. You don’t understand why but it doesn’t deter you. He wasn’t threatening per se. He could be. You had no doubt that if he’d pin you down with the full force of his wrath, you would shrink to the size of a mushroom, but currently, there was nothing scary of the fae that was shivering in the faint cold, shyly avoiding your gaze and mumbling meaningless insults through a pair of pouted lips.
“If the King is sending his forces to collect me, which you are a part of, why are we running away from your...colleagues?”
Yoongi halts, spinning around, face contorted in an exasperated grimace.
“Do you want to be taken to him?!”
“Of course, I don’t! But why do you not want me to?”
Yoongi lets his tongue briefly go over his drying lips, pushing hands deep into his jacket. He looks over the fields, momentarily stopping at the scarecrow in the distance.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” he spits bitterly, “he doesn’t deserve anything.”
“But you’re still taking me to him?”
He visibly recoils and his face hardens, back straightening. Evidently, the wrong thing was said. He leans in, nose nearly brushing against yours and you go cross-eyed from trying to return his piercing glare.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Your Majesty, I’m a horrible person.”
You don’t think he’s horrible. Despite the circumstances, he’s been far kinder than you expected but before you can open your mouth he’s already stalking off, grumbling something incomprehensible underneath his nose.
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“I swear I’m going to just toss you inside the wheelbarrow and roll you to the palace,” Yoongi barks, tugging viciously against the ropes binding his hands and feet as he is carelessly tossed aside on the ground.
“Well you had plenty of time to do that, stop bitching to me about it!” you hiss back not faring any better.
Long story short, Brary → town of the pumpkin people → pumpkin people did not like the King → they saw the Imperial ring → you and Yoongi were about to be burned at the stake. As it sometimes happens.
Undeniably terrifying, the pumpkin townsfolk have gathered in the main small town field circling around you with carved out eyes and mouths only leading to the empty, but vaguely sentient darkness behind them. They hoist you upwards, dragging you by the hair to the pole with the firewood steadily piled underneath it.
As the unknown pumpkin people struggle to toss you on the makeshift platform, haphazardly you grasp around the log. When the slimy opportunity rises its head you take it without much question and pummel it against the circular orange vegetable. Pulp spills everywhere and somewhere in your heart you question whether it’s equated to blood, if so then you just bashed someone’s head in. The townsfolk retreat in shock before with deeply upsetting low anguished sounds they coo around their fallen neighbour. After a moment of horror, all eyes are on you. You with your stupid wooden log.
“Run, ________, run!” Yoongi screams like you’ve never heard a person scream, and when you feel the first scratches of the sharp vines twisting around your shoulders, you break into a mindless dash.
You sink deep into the cornfield, its stalks growing way, way over your head, terror beating with every fluttering heartbeat as they chase you down with a unified, bellowing “oooooooh, ooooooh”. You run what feels like an eternity, with the murderous creatures just a step away from you, their pitchforks raised high in the air, torches lit and casting dark shadows in front of you. But finally, miraculously, they relent at the sight of the first scarecrow, pinned to its post, and then there is only the silence. A sickled moon hangs in the sky, providing scarce light for your eyes and tinting the long stalks dark blue.
You turn around, on guard for any sudden attack but as minutes stretch into one, then to ten then to twenty, you slump. The thought of Yoongi doesn’t let you relax. You left him. You just left him. Just like that. It fills you with deep, burning shame. You should have fought for them, you should have stayed, you should have led them somewhere and then gone back for him. Should have. Should have. Didn’t.
What you should have is but a speculation, the reality was that you were far away from Brary and when you would get back, it would most likely be too late. What could you do? The ring sits as tight as ever on your finger, in the arguable dark casting its own golden spectre, like a firefly. There still was a whole imperial patrol after you, all you probably had to do was to wander upon some main road, find your way to the nearest civilization and wait idly by, to be collected and brought at the base of the King's throne.
But you don’t want to go to the King. You want Yoongi to be safe.
So you turn and walk back, gathering every single scrap of courage you’d ever had. And if Yoongi was dead…. The least you could do was to give him a proper burial, let him rest and then wallow in misery for all your remaining days. Seemed like a solid plan.
“IIIII wwooouullddddnn’ttt doooo thaaaaattt ifff IIIIIIII wweeeeerreeeeee yoouuu,” a voice utters, incredibly slow but also loud, raining down a mountain of hay upon your bent head. You slowly turn around and come face to face with a straw-filled chest, squeezed tightly in a blue dress. Or rather remnants of it. On their head sits a large ouroboros of a hat, underneath which upon you gazed a face made of hay and buttons. You scream and fall back. The large figure sways their body slowly and sadly, their dress flitting in the light breeze.
“Aaaallllwwaaaayyyyysss ssccreeeaaminnnggg. Ssaaaaammyyyy iiisss nnnoootttt eevvveeenn dddoooiingg aannyytttttthhhiiinnngg wwrooooonnggg bbuuuttt ttthhheeeeyyy aalllllwwwaaayyyysss sssccccreeeeamm,” they begin to tut miserably as you blink, bewildered, upon the towering scarecrow.
“I’m - I’m sorry for offending you, it’s just that…” you pause, forcing yourself to stop trembling and to sound more firm and less like an impaled mouse. You scramble to your feet, clearing your throat.
“My friend was taken by the pumpkin people and I’d like to save him. Could you perhaps help me with it?”
"Sssssaaaaaammmmmyyyy dddddooooeeessssnnn'tttt llliiikkkeeee ttttoooo fffffiiiiiiiigggggghhhhhttttttt bbuuuuttt ffffffoorrr aa fffrrriiiieeennddd Sssaaaaamyyyyyy wwwiiiiillllllll."
You feel slightly bad for being considered as a friend this quickly or for roping the innocent bystander in your reckless quest, but Yoongi's life was on the line so the guilt could come later. Samy, as you've gathered, leans down, back turning and tentatively you climb onto their back, enjoying the most baffling piggyback in your life. In spite of talking like a video played at the slowest speed, Samy walks actually quite fast - one stride equals to twenty of yours and it isn't long before you're back again in Brary, ears ripped and heart clamping at the sounds of the battle. Horses are neighing and blades are clashing, all together creating a horrendous cacophony.
"Samy could you put me down, I need to see!" you whisper heatedly, stomach squirming nauseously at the thought of ever seeing Yoongi's peculiar eyes distant, without a sign of life in them.
"Ssssssuuuuuuurrreeeee ttttthhhhiiiiinnnnnngggg fffffrrrrrriiiieeeeennnnddddd," Samy booms back and with some restraint you don't hide your face in your palms. Samy was kindly helping you, you shouldn't whine.
You jump down from the scarecrow's back and crouching keek through the corn stalks. Samy does the same and wouldn't you be so worried about Yoongi, you'd find the gesture oddly endearing.
The previous town field is gripped in throes of a small but fierce battle. The Pumpkin people are throwing themselves against the entourage of horses and tall figures robed in armour. On the side of their shoulders sits a sigil which after a moment you realize is familiar. You'd seen it once but you remembered it well as it was the same seal engraved upon the ring box. These were the Imperial troops. They don't seem to be killing each other, trading vicious blows, yes, but there are no corpses littered across the ploughing field. Save for the one you killed. Amidst it all you finally find Yoongi. He's sitting on a black horse side by side with his compatriots. Dirtied and dishevelled but visibly intact. He was wielding a long, decorated sword, with eyes so fierce even at a distance you wince.
“Lllooottts ooooffff aaaaannngggrrryyyyyyy pppeeeeooooooppplllleee,” Samy reckoned and you give a pitiful moan at the sheer volume with which they spoke. One more sentence and you’d be out of cover. Or perhaps sooner.
At the faraway, nevertheless noticeable sound, Yoongi stilled, pulling in the reins of his horse, to stop it from prancing angrily at the swiping townsfolk. You see him squinting menacingly at the bustling cornfield, briefly turning bemused when he peeks the large hat upon a poorly hidden scarecrow before finally, he grows lax, relief washing over him like the ocean as you poke your head through. The hateful glare all but melted and his eyes softened to the same Yoongi you were acquainted with. Both of your healthy survival did provide another problem, namely, you were swarmed with Imperial dryads, all without a doubt under strict orders to drag you as soon as possible to the palace. Yoongi anxiously glanced around, slowly inching his horse backwards and out of the line of fire until at long last he disappears into the thorned shrubs.
“Let’s get out of here,” you whisper softly to Samy and though the facial characteristics were scarce, just two buttons and a painted line for a smile, they as well seemed relieved.
You and Samy bound quickly away and across the cursed Brary’s border. When you find Yoongi in the orchard he is a rapidly pacing blur, his horse in tow. You don’t even properly get to see him before arms are wrapped around your waist, cold nose pressing against your neck.
Your expression goes slack, facing against the blue of the night. You dare not to question, only to momentarily enjoy, heart hammering as your chest presses into his.
“Vvveeerryyy ccccuuuuuttteeee.”
Samy has crossed their arms underneath the makeshift stray chin. If they could, they would smile. Truly and not in the permanent etch. As you remotely wonder whether it’s something they’re born with or self-made, Yoongi shoves you away. Harshly.
Despite still reeling from having him alive, you can’t stop the hard scowl settling upon your face.
“I’m glad to see you too,” you grumble and something akin to guilt flashes by his eyes but it’s gone too quick for any comfort.
“It’s better we don’t -”
His thought remains unfinished when he suddenly spits venomously against the nearby apple tree.
“Piss off, Taehyung.”
Before you, a man detaches from the tree. His stature was tall and slender, and alongside his neck there ran black lines in the form of sprawling tree roots. The man from the hotel, you presumed.
This Taehyung pays no attention to Yoongi’s bristling stance, instead, he bows politely first to Samy, then to you, proceeding to grasp your palms in a gentle handshake, all while pressing a chaste kiss atop your knuckles. You feel yourself flush from the way he was gazing up at you through long and heavy lashes.
“Your Majesty,” says he, voice deep and sultry, “it’s my absolute pleasure.”
“The King will have your head for that,” in the background Yoongi sharply protests but Taehyung pays no attention.
“Oh, will he now,” he purrs, freeing your hand but not even remotely attempting to put some distance. “I’m sure he would be more than happy to deliver Our Majesty to the safety of the palace, no? She nearly burned at the stake.”
“She didn't and she's not your Majesty,” Yoongi argues and you stiffen at the way they speak about you. A movable object no less. A hefty package delayed upon shipping.
“Who are you?”
All of Taehyung’s attention snaps at you at once and you raise your head in defiance. The corners of his lips curl up in a dark smirk. There's noiseless rushing in your head that can't decide whether it wants you to veritably bask in the centre of his attention or the opposite - to hide away so far and so good, he could never lay his eyes on you again.
“Lord Kim Taehyung, General of the King’s private scouting forces and your humble servant, Your Majesty. I was sent on this small retrieval mission for our intrepid guide seemed to have lost his way,” he briefly glanced at Yoongi, voice gaining a certain lilt.
“They’re very worried at the palace you know,” he adds, forehead creasing in a moment of seriousness. “Advisor Jin is probably busting a vein as we speak.”
“Is the King anxious over... me?” you ask, mouth dry.
Whether intentional or not Sir Kim Taehyung had a presence. A relaxing state that invited you to ponder further and have your musings actually answered.
“Amongst other things,” he evades with a sly smile but you don’t let the linger on Yoongi go amiss. “We did think that by now you’d grace our modest abode with your presence. The Imperial court is in an uproar. What dress will you wear, what food will we serve, these are all important questions we've yet to receive an answer for”
You feel a slithering fist clutch around your heart, compressing it to the point you were convinced it would come up as bile through your mouth. The King sounded to be more than comfortable about marrying a virtual stranger and you doubt he’d take too kindly at any attempt of waltzing by, giving the slip and going back home. If he had killed Yoongi’s lover, there was a chance written in bold print that you would end up the same.
“What are you doing?” Taehyung suddenly asks but not to you. His voice and features are pleasant, relaxed, painting a scene of civil, unassuming conversation but the way he narrows his dark eyes and Yoongi’s shoulders tighten makes you realize the conflict was steadily brewing.
“Are you going to stop me?” Yoongi dares at which Taehyung merely shrugs.
“Would there be a point? Considering everything.”
They both look hard at each other until finally, Taehyung gives in, lowering his gaze to the ground with a fatigued grimace.
“Making me the fool again, brother?”
“Tae, just trust me, please.”
“You, I trust. The King, however-”
“The King won’t - I’ll make sure he won’t do anything,” Yoongi vows with a clenched jaw. Both men fall silent, respective grave expressions on both ends.
“Ttthhhiiisss cccoonnvvveeerrrssaaattiiiooonnn dddoeeesnn’ttt mmmaaakkee aannyy ssseennssee,” Samy speaks, turning their head from one side to another.
“Yes! Thank you, Samy. It doesn’t,” you reply and Yoongi throws you an unimpressed glare. You glare right back.
“The best I can do is a week,” Taehyung continues, absently running his tongue over his lips. You look away and the cloud over Yoongi's head expands to a proverbial thunderstorm.
“The wedding has to be either before or at least on the final day of the Autumn Harvest.”
Yoongi nods, turning away, teeth audibly grinding in his mouth. The information is not new to him, clearly.
“You need to change your clothes and you can’t take Holly, everyone knows it’s your horse. Travel through vampire domains, they expressed little interest in participating in the wedding so they won’t care much about you two being out and about. Good luck...Yoongi.”
Slowly they breach the sprawling distance and give each other a comradely albeit slightly stiff hug. When they part Taehyung throws a curious glance towards Samy. He dips his head with a smiling parting of “Your Excellency.” Samy giggles at that, as much as a Scarecrow could giggle. Taehyung bows to you once more, lowering his eyes seemingly to the ground but you had the feeling that he was looking at the ring on your finger. It hadn’t stopped shimmering ever since first captured by the Pumpkin Town.
“Your Majesty,” he says, lowly, “may your subject soon be graced by your beautiful visage.”
Yoongi groaned at the sight.
“You had to fucking ruin it, Taehyung, didn’t you.”
He chuckles airily and then looks at you with reassuring, brown eyes.
“Do not worry, Your Majesty, you’re going to be fine.”
Abruptly Taehyung leans right in your face, lips grazing against your temple.
“You’re a clever girl,” he purrs, the fan of his breath making every single hair on the back of your neck stand up. You find he smells faintly of tree bark. “Figure it out before it’s too late.”
With a throaty chuckle, he leaves your side with another flourished curtsy and you watch astounded as his horse disappears along the orchard valley.
previous ⟷ next
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Taehyung in this fic looks like he did in "ON" MV. I've spun the story around his roots tattoo to go around the fact that he is a dryad, tree nymph, and as such was created from the trees.
Keek is actually a word
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Because of work, I'm currently struggling to write. I still want to finish this fic by October 31st but that seems unrealistic now, though I promise to update soon enough. Happy reading and genuine thanks to anyone who comments on this thing, it's pure serotonin.
Tag list (open):
@sugaaddiction; @ggukkieland; @loveyoongles; @xjordynary; @alpacaparkaseok; @grandqueen1533; @xxsugababexx; @mayla548; @rumpucis;
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kimnjss · 4 months ago
cyberslut | myg sm au
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banner by: @dee-ehn
🖇 synopsis:
— he has no idea who you are... up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.
[ cyberslut: a person who will act openly sexual on the internet, yet in real life will act prudent and contained. ]
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pairing: jock(fuckboi)!yoongi x nerdy(virgin)!reader
fic type: social media au
side ships: (platonic...) vmin.
genre: smut!! college au, secret identity, tutoring au, slight themes of infidelity...
warnings: yoongi and his friends are dicks :/ - yn is way too horny all of the time... there’s a lot of sexting... no full nudity.
*BYR: yn knows yoongi is the guy she’s posting abt... yoongi does not know abt yns acct (until he finds out). yoongi nd yn have never talked before the start of this fic.
status: completed!
A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!
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bonus drabbles...
prologue: homeroom hottie
character profiles: yn, her alter ego, nd besties
character profiles: yoongi nd the boyz
part one: invasion of privacy
part two: private sessions
part three: pretty prints
part four: went viral
part five: malleable substances
part six: fellow fish nerd
part seven: long night
bonus: fuck me
part eight: fucking prude
part nine: under the bleachers
part ten: buzzer beater
part eleven: mentally fucking
part twelve: deductive reasoning
bonus: turn the page
part thirteen: teachers pet
part fourteen: surprise me
part fifteen: emotion sex
part sixteen: sexy mermaid
part seventeen: not finished
time jump: untapped ass
part eighteen: give a fuck
part nineteen: not dating
part twenty: away game
part twenty-one: at your pace
bonus: nervous and excited
part twenty-two: petal
part twenty-three: too messy
part twenty-four: drunk yoongi
part twenty-five: being stupid
part twenty-six: superior couple
part twenty-seven: iconic parties
part twenty-eight: twenty minutes
part twenty-nine: risk it
part thirty: reformed fuckboy
part thirty-one: nice change
part thirty-two: public event
part thirty-three: bars and clubs 
epilogue: on purpose
epilogue: fucking nerd
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moonchild1 · 2 months ago
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) ❣
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yoonpobs · 2 months ago
back-burner | myg
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sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?
PAIRING. min yoongi x reader
GENRE. sister's best friend!au, best friend to lovers!au, sorta frenemies?to lovers!au, angst, *slow burn*, smut, fluff
WARNINGS. one-sided pining (?), longing, sibling jealousy, insecurities, miscommunication, family trauma (it's not as bad as it sounds!!!), explicit language, eventual smut, eventual fluff, MAJOR ANGST, sexual harassment, mentions of poor mental health, alcohol as a coping mechanism (minor), mentions of poor health, neglecting one's health [warnings to be added!!!]
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01: drunk words can get you in trouble
02: some shine brighter than the rest but it gets dark sometimes
03: use your words
04: just for tonight, you'll try to forget
05: you give and you give until you have nothing left for people to take
06: you were a fire, and you burnt anything that came in your way
07: what you know, isn't always the truth
08: hidden conversations and truths
09: how much would you let yourself go?
10: two broken hearts
11: you were the sun; he'd burn to keep himself close
12: tba
13: tba
14: tba
15: tba
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1K notes · View notes
minyfic · 2 months ago
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.
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.
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.
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?”
“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.”
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!”
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.
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.
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!”
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.
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.
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.
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.”
“Hey girl.”
“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.”
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.”
That can’t be true.
Looking away from Naya, you see Yoongi on the other side of the court, goofing around with Hoseok.
“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?”
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?”
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.
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.
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.”
“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.”
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.
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.
“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-“
“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.”
“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?”
“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.”
“Dad just got home. I’ll talk to you later. 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.
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.
“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-
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.”
“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?”
“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.
“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?
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 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.
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.
“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.
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.
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.
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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?”
“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,” 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.”
“Hand me your panties.”
“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.
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.
“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.”
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?”
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.
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taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon
1K notes · View notes
fluffyydumplings · a day ago
Gone (방탄소년단) - Part 4
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Window Four: The Handsome Friend of a Friend - poly!au / sculptor!yoongi x painter!namjoon x fashion illustrator!jin x traveller!reader / friends to lovers / strangers to lovers
Summary: Jiwon, the guy who had a crush on you during elementary school is back in town. And he’s brought a friend with him. A broad-shouldered fashion illustrator with chiselled features like one of the many marble sculptures that Yoongi swears his life over. But.. ties run deeper than they appear. For aside from being a beauty he happens to be an old friend of Namjoon’s and a fellow part-timer of Yoongi’s. The fun part is, they both seem to be rather fond of him. Maybe even a little more than necessary. And you can see why. He’s one charming fellow.
Series Masterlist
Fluffy Dumpling’s Masterlist
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53 notes · View notes
taetaespeaches · a month ago
“Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry.”
yoongi x reader (oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 3.6K
a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s part 2 to “I’m not walking out on you” in which Yoongi and reader/Kid get into a pretty major fight. This takes place that same night and the next day. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 
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Sleep doesn’t come too easy for those with the weight of two aching hearts inside their chest. The throbbing of your own heart, you could handle. But knowing you were the cause of your lover’s pain sat heavy in your mind. The look of regret, hurt, defeat that was etched across Yoongi’s features was impossible to shake, hovering over you like a sleep paralysis demon of your own creation.
Your tears had stopped since you shut yourself away in your bedroom, but the regret was all the more deep and unsettling. At the sound of the washing machine beeping on the other side of the door, you rolled onto your side, facing the wooden barrier that kept you from Yoongi. You were so sick of walls, but it was all that you knew.
Lifting yourself from the mattress, you began tiptoeing across the room to move the bedding to the dryer. You couldn’t sleep anyway. However, when you carefully pulled the door open, not wanting to alert your boyfriend of your activity, you were stopped in your tracks, the air leaving your lungs as you remained completely still. Peeking through the slightly ajar door, you watched as Yoongi transferred the sheets from the washing machine to the dryer.
He didn’t hear the door open, appearing oblivious to your presence. And perhaps that was why he wasn’t more careful in concealing the sniffle that sounded in the hallway, the small fragile sound stabbing your heart. When he raised his arm to his face, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe across his cheek, there was no mistaking the emotional state of the man. Yoongi was crying, and it was your fault.
Feeling as though you were going to be sick, you quickly but quietly shut the door, hiding away behind the barrier once again. You should have stepped into the hallway and faced the man you loved, but your cowardice always seemed to win. Instead, you stood frozen, your back pressed against the wood, your jaw clenched, and your eyes filling with tears once again.
If only you had known that the click of the latch registered in Yoongi’s ears, the man turning to see the door closed. However, he knew you were just on the other side, he could feel your presence. Yoongi had stepped toward the door, raising his arm and nearly knocking before deciding against it. Maybe you wanted space, maybe you didn’t want to see him. Sighing, he started the dryer before returning to the couch, all while you leaned against the door wishing you had the courage to step outside.
As you remained restless in bed, you couldn’t help but think about how you had ambushed Yoongi. You could tell that as far as he knew, you and him didn’t have any issues. Replaying the fight in your head, the interaction with him earlier in his studio, the past couple weeks, you realized he was completely oblivious to how you had been feeling. How could the fight ever be fair if he had no indication of any problems? And to bring up his mistake from nearly a year ago that you knew he regretted, whether it still hurt you or not, was cruel.
You left him defenseless; the man who always lowered his defenses when it came to you.
Curiosity and your undeniable pull to Yoongi getting the best of you, you found yourself in the hallway, headed toward the living room where he was sleeping for the night. With how still everything in the apartment was, you worried for just a moment that maybe he had actually left, despite his promise not to walk out on you. You wouldn’t even blame him if he did. However, you caught a glimpse of the messy hair that sat atop his head where he rested against the arm of the sofa, once again reminding you of how foolish your misguided accusations were. Of course he didn’t leave.
Stepping closer to him, you carefully peeked over the top of the sofa to see him lying on his back, his mouth slightly ajar as he slept, his arms folded across his body as though he was trying to secure as much warmth as he could. More than ever you were regretting the fight, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and let him use up all the body warmth you had to offer.
You were surprised to find him sleeping so soundly, as he usually couldn’t find slumber when his mind was busy processing stress or conflict. His exhausted state made you feel even more guilty as you realized how little you took his current workload into consideration when targeting your attacks at him. And that’s when you realized that even more than you expected him to be late for your date that night, you wanted him to be. Because then it would validate your anger without you having to discuss how you had been feeling. It was a fix all, a get out of jail free card; finally release the anger that had been building up over the past two weeks and then move on. What you didn’t consider was the casualty you turned your boyfriend into. Nor did you expect the insecurity you still felt from the start of your relationship to surface. There was a time, one single time, when you didn’t find Yoongi asleep on your couch after a fight.
But he was there now. And you needed to find a way to let go of the past, forgive, and move forward together.
Lost in your thoughts and revelations, you were suddenly pulled back into the present moment when the dryer beeped to signal it had completed its cycle. Jumping in start, your eyes widened as you stared at Yoongi, hoping he wouldn’t wake up and catch you watching him. Frozen for just a few seconds, you waited for any sign of consciousness before quickly backing away and heading for the dryer.
Reaching into the machine, your arms were shrouded with the warmth of freshly dried blankets. Glancing over your shoulder at the sofa, you pouted, remembering how cold Yoongi looked. Without a second thought, you found yourself approaching Yoongi once more, comforter in hand. Stopping in front of the couch, you peered down at him and prepared to drape the warm blanket over him.
However, you spotted one of his yellow notepads stuck between his arm and abdomen, full of words that he must have scribbled down before falling asleep. It was lyrics, no doubt, and normally you would have read over the words with great curiosity and appreciation for Yoongi’s lyrical talent. But with the previous events of your evening with Yoongi, you felt as though that would be an invasion of privacy. Or maybe you were worried you would find harsh words about yourself, though realistically you doubted it. Whatever the reason, you gently tugged on the notepad, freeing it of his grasp before setting it aside on the coffee table, along with the pen that rolled onto his stomach.
As carefully as you could, you set the blanket over his frame, tucking it in just slightly around him, not wanting to wake the man. Satisfied with your work, you stepped back and glanced at his features, ensuring his eyes were still shut, his mouth still open signaling a deep sleep.
His cheeks were so soft and plush, his facial structure so delicate. You could stare at him for ages but you worried the unspoken love and regret that was screaming within your heart and mind would wake him. But for just a moment longer, you inspected his features, appreciating the soft gentleness that was always so present within them. If only you could be more like him. You were certain the world would be so much kinder, considerate, and serene if more people could embody the stunning nature that was your boyfriend. Yoongi had never once lashed out against you in the way that came so naturally to you. You wondered if he knew how much you appreciated that about him. Even when angry, he was always so gentle.
Sighing, you forced yourself to leave him to sleep, returning to your room where you would continue to ruminate on the mistakes that you wish you could take back.
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You didn’t know at what point you had finally succumbed to sleep but you did know that Yoongi was the only thing on your mind when you slipped into a state of slumber. Consciousness came slow at first, your mind hazy as you took your time piecing together the elements of the new morning. And then it came fast, anxiety crashing through you as you recalled the events of the previous night and realized you’d have to face Yoongi.
The sound of rummaging from outside the room alerted you that your boyfriend was awake and moving around. A part of you wanted to stay locked away, safe within the walls of your bedroom. But a larger part knew you had to emerge and try to fix the damage you had caused. Instinct and habit were battling it out with growth and trust, and you knew which you had to choose.
Emerging from your self-made cell, you sheepishly made your way toward the kitchen where the sounds of action were coming from. The smell of food cooking suddenly flooded your nostrils and when you turned into the kitchen, you found Yoongi standing at the stove as he prepared breakfast, two awaiting plates set to the side. Why was he cooking for you?
As you entered his peripheral, he turned to you, his eyes wide, his features as gentle as ever. The tension was palpable, but the slight upturn of Yoongi’s mouth helped to cut it just slightly.
“Thanks for the blanket,” he spoke to you, your heart racing at the minor interaction. Nodding at him, he returned his gaze back down to the contents within the frying pan. “Did you sleep ok?”
Scrutinizing him slightly, you stared at him as he tossed around the egg mixture, his eyes not lifting as he patiently waited for your response. “Not really,” you admitted quietly, Yoongi’s sweet orbs meeting yours once again. How could he look at you with so much understanding after last night? He should be angry and bitter, lecturing you on your behavior.
The man silently turned to the coffee pot, filling one of your mugs before adding some milk and sugar, fixing it just how you liked it. The simple gesture had tears pricking your eyes because after everything, he was still caring for you. Because he wanted to.
Walking toward you, he held the steaming ceramic cup out to you, forcing a small smile of gratitude from you. “Thanks,” you whispered as you took the coffee from him, holding back tears that Yoongi immediately noticed.
“Kid,” he whispered with a frown just as you directed your misty eyes to the contents of the mug, suddenly finding the tan coloring of the liquid fascinating. “Hey,” he called for your attention.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled childishly. “I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know how to-” you cut yourself off as a tear fell to your thumb, your hand wrapped around the warm mug. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, stepping toward you and placing a hand to the back of your head. He dipped his face into your eye line, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you.”
The three words served as a reminder and an explanation, as if his love for you meant he wouldn’t want to treat you with anything but kindness. And that was new. Foreign. And overwhelming.
When he leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead, it all felt even more confusing but you were grateful. Grateful for the respect and compassion he dedicated to you, even when you didn’t feel deserving.
“You don’t know how to do what?” He asked softly, his lips ghosting over your skin.
Pulling away from you, he looked into your eyes. Yoongi was someone who was always a bit awkward with eye contact, struggling to maintain it for too long even with you, and that’s when you realized how hard he was trying to break through your walls. The man was pushing himself outside of his comfort zone in hopes of pulling you out of yours, so you could fall into him like a safety net. He wanted to be that for you.
“You’re supposed to be mad at me or giving me the silent treatment or something and I just-” you shrugged as Yoongi’s eyebrows pulled together as though he was studying you. “It feels like you’ve already forgiven me and I don’t know how to do this without the anger or feeling like I have to grovel for your love.”
The man shook his head instantly, a pout forming on his pretty lips. “You never have to grovel for my love, who taught you that, Kid?” He asked sadly, his empathy washing over you and your past. “I just love you,” he told you for the second time that morning. And as your heart pounded against your chest, Yoongi’s hand found your lower back. “We do this by talking about it. With understanding and accountability. So will you sit at the island and talk to me while I finish cooking us breakfast?”
You had never had a safe place to land, making you believe you were meant to fly, never staying in one place for too long. But Yoongi was giving you that place to land, to rest, to find shelter. Nodding at him, he gave you a small close mouthed smile, one of those ones that pushed his soft cheeks up in just the way you loved. His hand slowly dragged around to your side before sliding off your hip as he headed back to the stove. And you followed, taking a place on one of the stools, setting your mug on the island as you watched Yoongi appreciatively.
“I’m sorry for leaving in the past,” he started, your eyes popping wide open, not expecting for him to initiate the conversation there. “I’m sorry for not fighting for you, and I’m sorry that still looms over you. I had hoped that you were able to move past it but I understand the impact it made and the precedent it set.”
“I wasn’t holding it over you,” you interjected, not wanting him to think that you were hanging onto his mistakes to use against him. “I didn’t even know it still hur-” you cut yourself off, feeling guilty for bringing the word hurt into the discussion.
“It hurts you, Kid,” he looked up from the pan as he spoke. “You can say that.”
“It’s just when that happened it reaffirmed at the time everything I knew to be true about love, you know? Like, it’s fleeting and within an instant it can be removed,” you explained.
“I understand,” he nodded. “And you shouldn’t feel guilty for being affected by my actions.”
“The same can be said for you,” you pointed out, a small smile curving on Yoongi’s lips.
“Touché ,” he lightheartedly commented, making you smile in return. “But you were feeling rejected, Kid. That is on me.”
“No, because I never vocalized anything,” you disagreed.
“I should have known,” he mumbled, expressing disappointment in himself.
“Are you a mind reader?” You asked him, making him stop his inward spiral as he stared at you. “I should have told you so much sooner how I was feeling. I didn’t. That was immature of me.”
Taking a moment to think, the man shook his head at himself. “I still should have never made you feel rejected,” he said, defeat evident in his tone.
“Yoongi,” you sighed. “Baby, sometimes I worry that you make so few mistakes in our relationship that you get this standard of perfection thrown on you, and that’s not realistic. You’re going to fuck up, I’m going to fuck up, I don’t want it to be the end of the world when that happens.”
Stunned by your words, he stared at you with widened eyes, his jaw slightly opened, appearing almost frozen in place. Closing his mouth, he cleared his throat before wetting his lips just slightly, his tongue lingering in the corner of his mouth as he sorted through his thoughts.
“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted softly, your lips forming into a pout as tears formed in your eyes.
“I know that,” you assured him. “Yoon, we had one of our biggest fights last night where I gave you my worst and since then I’ve caught you finishing my laundry and cooking me fucking breakfast, and you’ve been nothing but sweet to me, and- do you know how incredible that is? How much that means to me?”
Yoongi blinked quickly, an attempt to conceal the tears that had bubbled in his own eyes. You were certain that a conflict as big as the one you and Yoongi had found yourselves in should be harder to fix. There should be more conversation, more pleading, more tears, more fighting. But he presented you with a safety net, and you found yourself breaking through your own walls and falling into it.
“I love you,” you told him, wanting to assure him the way he did you.
Sighing, he stared at you, gratitude shimmering in his orbs. “Can you forgive me for the past?”
“I already did,” you told him sincerely. And you had. “It’s just a process, you know, unlearning what I thought love was and relearning it as, this,” you gestured between yourself and Yoongi. “I have to accept that this is how you love me and that you’re not going anywhere.” Shrugging at him, you huffed. “Insecurities work their way in but I trust you, Yoongi.”
“I’m still sorry. For the past, and for making you feel rejected,” he told you, making you glare at the man.
“I accept your apology, and it’s ok. But I don’t want you living in a constant state of apology, I won’t allow it,” you told him sternly.
The comment drew a breathy chuckle out of the man, Yoongi’s small gummy smile pushing out the remaining tension, and effectively filling your lungs with air.
“I’m sorry for being immature and blowing up,” you told him. “And for bringing up past shit and being mean and not vocalizing my concerns and-”
“Hey,” he smiled sweetly. “It’s all ok. Really, Kid, we’re ok.”
Nodding at him, you sighed in relief. You were still left with some remaining guilt over the fight, which you’d be making up for whether he wanted you to or not. But you felt a sense of closure to last night, the past two weeks, and the fight that nearly ended your relationship before it could truly start almost a year ago.
As Yoongi broke away from the conversation to place the finished food onto the plates, you glanced to the side of the island, noticing the yellow notepad that sat with the first page folded over the top binding. More words were scribbled than last night, indicating that Yoongi had woken up and finished jotting down lyrics before you emerged from your room.
“Did you read them?” Yoongi’s voice cut through your thoughts as he appeared beside you, setting a plate in front of you. Looking up from the notepad to meet his gaze, you shook your head.
“I didn’t feel like I had the right,” you told him, Yoongi pulling his eyebrows together in scrutiny. “Plus it was dark in there, my eyes aren’t that good,” you joked.
“Yeah you’re blind,” he humorously deadpanned.
“I am,” you easily agreed.  
“You could have read them,” he returned to the original topic as he gently dug his fingers through your slept-on hair, massaging the roots sweetly. “It’s about you.”
“A new cypher verse?” You teased, eliciting a chuckle from the man as his shoulders shook adorably.
“You’ll have to do a lot more to earn yourself a cypher verse, Kid.”
Shooting him a glare with your eyebrow raised, you smirked. “Is that a challenge?”
“No,” he shook his head, leaning down toward you. “It’s not,” he whispered just before his lips met yours, kissing you softly. Your hand found his waist, wanting to hold some piece of him as you kissed him back, pouring forgiveness and love into the act.
When he pulled away, a stupidly cute gummy grin directed to you, you couldn’t help but return the smile, a small giggle slipping from your lips. “Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry,” you told him jokingly. “Even when I’m mean,” you added with a forced pout, Yoongi smiling just before placing a peck to your mouth once more.
“You call that mean?” He asked as he pulled away and sat down in the stool next to you. “You’re gonna have to do much better than that, I’m Min Yoongi.”
“He says Min Yoongi as if that’s not synonymous with a honey boy,” you teased as you took a bite of your food, immediately moaning at the taste. Yoongi pulled a disgusted expression at your dramatized reaction to the food, making you giggle.
“I’m your honey boy. That hasn’t changed,” he pointed out just as he took a bite himself.
And as you stared at him with a dumb smile, your eyes holding all of the love in the world, you felt excitement and gratitude that you’d get to shower him in all that love and affection for as long as he’d let you. And if that morning was any indication, he’d be letting you for your entire lives.
806 notes · View notes
gukyi · 4 months ago
no choice (next to you) | myg
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summary: the pros of your last-minute senior year apartment sublet: cheap, furnished, close to campus, in a gorgeous old victorian conversion home, and right next to the greek takeout place.
the cons of your last-minute senior year apartment sublet: min yoongi, senior member of the beta tau sigma fraternity, and his party-throwing, vodka-loving, ruckus-making fraternity buddies, are your neighbors.
{college!au, frat boy!au, neighbor!au, enemies to lovers!au}
pairing: yoongi x reader genre: fluff, comedy est. word count: 13k warnings: alcohol consumption, frat parties, misunderstandings as a plot device, idiots being idiots, frat boys being frat boys, hawaiian pizza slander, yoongi says things that could be construed as sexist but they actually are not i promise you just need to read the fic ;-; a/n: here it is!!!! a very happy 4 years to, and an even happier 8 years to the men who made it all possible, bangtan themselves! i hope you enjoy this frat party of a fic: loud, chaotic, and filled with college boys. much love to you all, always and forever <3 guyi
The first time you meet Min Yoongi you are hunched over the kitchen sink of the Beta Tau Sigma fraternity house, throwing up vodka and Sprite like it’s nobody’s business. Except it apparently is someone’s business, because from behind you, over the booming rap music and the thumping bass emanating from the speakers, you hear a voice. 
“Well, at least it’s not the floor.”
You whip your head around, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, to find a grouchy, unimpressed boy standing a couple of feet away from you, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at you with his eyebrows raised. 
“I try to be considerate of my hosts.”
He scoffs. “I can tell. Good thing we installed a garbage disposal last year.”
“You a brother?” He doesn’t look like one. Too unapproachable and disapproving. He doesn’t even seem to want to be at this party. 
“You just puked in our sink and you’re asking me that?”
You shrug. “I’m trying to make conversation here, since you just caught me. I gotta be honest, I don’t really make it a point to know whose frat house I’m attending unless I plan on staying the night.”
Then he grins, this lopsided little smirk that matches the devilish spark in his eye. “We can arrange something like that if you’d like.”
You look him up and down and pretend that he didn’t just catch you hurling chunks into his kitchen sink. Maybe if you match his aloof disposition you can retain at least a shred of your dignity. Although, you suppose that, as a frat brother, he’s probably seen worse than some sophomore like you throwing up into a basin. There are so many people here, many of them more drunk than you are. Not all can be lost.  
“How about you tell me your name first, and then maybe I’ll consider it,” you suggest, grinning. 
He seems to appreciate the back-and-forth between the two of you. You’re probably two of the more sober people in the building right now. If the mass of dancing bodies in the room across from you is anything to go by. 
He smiles, small and muted. “Yoongi.”
“I’d shake your hand, but you just wiped your throw-up remnants on it, so I’ll hold off for now.”
“How observant of you,” you chide. “Promise I’m usually much cleaner.”
“I’d make a joke about being dirty but I don’t think either of us are drunk enough for that,” Yoongi muses. “Want me to mix you something?”
“How about a glass of water? Don’t really feel like throwing up again,” you ask, eyes glancing back to the sink. Most of your bile has gone down the drain but you can see some remnants stuck to the bottom of the basin. Yikes. 
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Sure thing. Hey, do you think you can flip that switch on the wall right by the paper towels? Turns on the garbage disposal.”
“While I’m at it, do you have any Febreeze I can spray?”
At that, Yoongi laughs as he pours you a simple glass of water in a red solo cup. Maybe you can both just pretend it’s vodka. “You’re in the Beta Tau Sigma house and you think we have Febreeze?”
“You should consider it a compliment that I thought that highly of you,” you tell him pointedly. “Other people would not be nearly as impressed.”
“Other people also don’t throw up in our kitchen sink.”
You narrow your eyes at him. Sure, that literally just happened and Yoongi straight up caught you red-handed in the act, but that was a low blow. Isn’t he trying to flirt with you?
“Are you or are you not trying to get me to sleep with you? Because right now, you’re not really on that track,” you ask him, crossing your arms in front of your chest with an eyebrow raised. 
“That depends,” Yoongi responds nonchalantly. He takes another sip of whatever the hell he’s drinking—from where you’re standing it smells like whiskey, but he’s not even flinching as it goes down his throat so either he’s an absolute tank or your sense of smell is still off from the aforementioned vomiting—and grins. “Do you want me to try to get you to sleep with me?”
“I take back my ‘are you a brother’ question. I should have just spoken to you for like, five more seconds and I would have figured that out pretty quickly,” you say, even though you’re loath to deny the attraction you feel towards him and you both know it. He’s hot, he can actually keep up a decent conversation, and he doesn’t seem like a total asshole. These are all the boxes that need to be checked when considering who and who not to sleep with. 
“Listen, I was joking earlier when I said we could arrange something, but if you actually want to then I’m down. And if you don’t, then I’ll walk you home, since it’s late and I don’t think you should be out there by yourself,” Yoongi offers, two equally nice-sounding suggestions that ultimately allow you to have the final say. 
And they said chivalry was dead. 
“You’re cool with leaving the Beta house at one in the morning just to walk me to my dorm?”
“Yeah.” Yoongi nods, completely happy with the idea. “And you don’t even have to worry about me trying to get in your pants there since I won’t be able to get past the check-in doors because I live off campus. And I forgot my access code. That, too.”
You laugh at that. Hot, conversational, not-an-asshole, and funny? You’d be an idiot if you were to just let him take you home and leave it at that. Wait until the next Beta party so you can flirt with each other all over again before letting the night end as anticlimactically as it had before.  
“Well, I don’t think you’ll need to remember your access code tonight,” you say, placing your cup on the counter as you step towards him, letting the glint in his eyes and the warmth of his body draw you towards him. 
Yoongi’s grinning, smirking, smiling at you as you approach him, looking rather pleased. “And why would that be?”
You wrap your arms around him, letting them rest on his broad shoulders as you lean in, lips hovering over his own. “Do you really need me to spell it out for you?”
There’s no alcohol in your system, but the rest of your body is on fire anyway. You feel the way his enormous hands gently brush your waist, like he’s afraid to press any harder against your skin. He seems rather pleased that this is the direction his night went in. So are you. 
“Please,” he pleads simply. 
When you close the gap between your lips, standing in the dinky old Beta Tau Sigma kitchen as the music blasts through the speakers and the bass shakes the tiled floor, sparks fly. 
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Before you go the next morning, Min Yoongi only has one request: call him later so you can arrange a proper date. 
He’s still in bed when he asks, all mixed up in the dark navy sheets of his tiny little room in the attic of the Beta house, hair a tousled mess atop his head. It’s a Monday, and clearly only one of you was masochistic enough to put a nine AM class into their weekly schedule. Yoongi looks just about as dead as anyone would be after an entire weekend of partying and binge drinking jello shots and soju bombs, but he still manages to etch out a half-smirk as he bids you goodbye, watches you pull on the same clothes you were wearing last night and wipe away the sleep in your eyes at his mirror. 
“Promise I’ll call you after my classes,” you tell him, not just to get him off your tail but because, for the first time in your short and hallowed history of one-night-stands, he is actually someone you’d like to stay in touch with. 
“Kiss me before you leave,” Yoongi begs, too tired to care about being desperate. 
You roll your eyes. “Just one.” Scurrying over to the side of his bed, you lean down and press a kiss to his lips, tasting remnants of the cherry lip gloss you were wearing last night. You should wear that more often. 
Yoongi looks instantly dissatisfied as you pull away. “One is not enough.”
“Yoongi, I have class in five minutes. If I don’t leave now, I’ll be marked absent,” you remind him. Not everyone can enjoy the luxury of sleeping in until noon. “I will call you later, I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Yoongi says, though from the look on his face, it’s clear that he’s not really worried about you flaking on him. 
You grin as you shuffle down the steps of the Beta house, trying not to stare too closely at the tornado that’s been left behind. You’ve never been in a frat house when it was light outside. It’s kind of haunting. The empty halls, the streamers and beer bottles and solo cups strewn across the floor. The indiscriminate puddles of an unspecified liquid in some of the corners. You don’t even want to know what the fuck the bathrooms must look like. You pull open the front door—totally unlocked, which must be a security concern—and dash out, completely unashamed. 
By the time you reach your lecture hall, you realize you don’t even have your goddamn laptop. 
One iced coffee and a very awkward seminar class later, you’re heading back to your dorm after spending a couple of hours in the library trying to do some work—but mostly just recovering from your brain-hammering headache—when you hear a familiar voice come from one of the tables outside of the business school. 
He’s clearer in the daytime, voice sharper and more punctuated, but after a night of hearing his breathless moans and his whispers against your skin, you’d like to say that you’re pretty familiar with the way Min Yoongi sounds. You look down at your phone. You were gonna call… but why do that when he’s right here? Plus, this is better than calling because you get to see his face, too. 
You begin speed-walking towards him, hoping to surprise him, when the clarity of his voice finally betrays him. 
“—So easy to get her, you know?”
You freeze. He’s not talking about you… is he?
“Honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t do it sooner,” Yoongi continues with total disregard. “Like, it was so easy. I walked in and it was like, boom, done. Instant results.”
There’s no way he’s talking about you. Absolutely no way. The Min Yoongi you were flirting with last night is not a sexist asshole. He treated you with respect and even offered to walk you home with no expectation for a sexual favor in return. He begged for a little kiss, a mere peck, before you left his room this morning. He had broken all of the stereotypes you normally associate with frat boys and that was the whole reason you had even promised to call him again to begin with. 
“Do you think it could be, like, a house thing? You know, like we all share her?”
You don’t want to listen anymore. Trying to blink away the tears of pure and utter anger—you should have trusted your gut, why did you think he’d be any different than all of the other frat boys on campus, how could you let him string you up like this—you shut your phone off, turn around, and never look back.
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Maybe you should have rethought your senior year sublet situation. 
At the time of agreeing to the sublet, it checked all of the boxes. Cheap? Yes. Furnished? Coffee maker included. Close to campus? Barely a two minute walk. Next to the Greek takeout place? You can practically smell the gyro through your bedroom window. 
What you, however, failed to consider was the fact that on the other side of your old, refurbished Victorian-era home-turned-apartment-complex was not another fast food restaurant, or Starbucks, or even an office building. 
You are living next to the Beta Tau Sigma house. 
A house known for its near-daily parties and lack of basement, meaning all the noise goes right through the old rickety walls and right into your bedroom. Not that any of the brothers would ever care about how much noise they make, how it travels down the sidewalk and fills up the night air like radiation, an inescapable fog of pure sound. And it’s not as if any of the brothers care about who lives next door to them, either. You imagine there used to be offices in these old Victorian homes, perhaps even other fraternity and sorority houses could have sat on this block, but not anymore. Not that any of the brothers care.
On a normal, average day, you would just buy a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and move on with your life, pretending they don’t exist and that you aren’t living next to a house that sounds like a constant shitty concert venue. But this is not a normal, average day. You have a bonkers-difficult exam for Inorganic Chemistry II tomorrow morning and your rowdy, terrible, rave mosh pit group of neighbors are throwing a party. Who even parties on a Tuesday? Don’t they have class tomorrow?
You manage to tolerate it until around 1:30 in the morning, when the bass that thumps through the thin drywall of your bedroom just becomes too much to bear. So, you do what any sane person would do. You storm out of your bedroom wearing nothing but your raggedy old high school pep rally free t-shirt, shorts, and slippers, and head straight to the front door of the Beta Tau Sigma house, stomping the whole twenty-feet walk. 
One of the younger brothers, a freshman by the looks of it, stops you in your tracks. 
“Know a brother?” He grunts out, clearly not too thrilled with being put on door duty instead of getting wasted inside with everyone else. 
“Didn’t you just see me walk out of that door? I’m your neighbor,” you exclaim, indignant, motioning to your front door. 
“Know a brother?” He repeats. “You can’t go in unless you can give me a name. House orders.”
“Fuck,” you say with a sigh, rubbing your temples with your hand. Yeah, you’ve heard of a few. Are Facebook friends with a couple of them. And there was that one incident in sophomore year… but you don’t like to think about that. “Whatever. I don’t care, I’m not here to party. I have a message that I would like you to deliver to whoever is in charge of… all this.” You gesture frantically in front of you.
The boy just quirks an eyebrow, uninterested. But he doesn’t tell you that you can’t deliver that message, and if you’re being honest, he’s probably the most sober anyway, so you take your chances and continue. 
“I would like you to tell whoever is in charge that I have been putting up with all of this for—”
“Putting up with what?”
You didn’t even notice the door swing open. Peeking his head out from the open space, a very familiar face smiles lazily at the two of you, that same stupid smirk happily lacing his otherwise typically grumpy features. 
“With you, Min Yoongi!” You shout. For some reason, seeing his face has increased your irritation tenfold. It must be the sound of his voice. “You and the rest of the Betas and your stupid party. It’s Tuesday.”
“I know.” Yoongi nods. The fact that he doesn’t say anything else, just stands there, a shit-eating grin on his face, swirling a half-empty bottle of beer in his hands, pisses you off even more. 
You sputter. “Well, it’s Tuesday and I have an exam tomorrow and I would really, really appreciate it if you could just keep it down. Or shut it down. Either works.”
“And ruin the fun?” Yoongi takes another step towards you, letting the door shut behind him as the other brother bows out, clearly recognizing that this exchange is out of his hands. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve become such a stick in the mud these days. Why not loosen up before your big test?”
“Because unlike you, I actually plan on doing something with my life after college,” you hiss, wanting nothing more than to snatch that bottle of beer right out of his grasp and dump it on him. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I am going to say this again nicely. I would really, really, genuinely, very much appreciate it if you could just keep it down for this one night. It would mean a lot to me because I have a very important test tomorrow that I cannot fail.”
Yoongi just smirks. “And what if we don’t?”
Oh, so that’s how he wants to play? Alright. 
“Then I will have absolutely no problem calling campus police so that they can shut down your party for me.”
Yoongi narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” You raise your eyebrows at him, as if egging him on. 
“Is that all? Or do you plan on threatening me with anything else if I don’t comply with your ridiculous demand?” He asks. 
“It’s not ridiculous to want some peace and quiet on a fucking Tuesday night. Actually, Wednesday, since it’s one in the morning,” you say defensively. Min Yoongi thinks he’s so much better than you because he drinks more alcohol and throws more parties. But the only people he’s really impressing anyway are the try-hard freshmen who either want to join the brotherhood, or sleep with its members. So who’s the cooler one, him or you? 
Yoongi scoffs. “You’re the one who decided living next to a frat house was a good idea. Maybe next time, before you come strutting over here to tell me and my house to be quiet, you can also reevaluate your own decisions.”
You sneer. “I had no choice. What’s your excuse?”
“My excuse?” Yoongi shakes his head like this whole damn conversation is beneath him. “I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks of me.”
“Maybe you should. Then you might actually have a future beyond college. Or are you just going to live in your frat house forever until they kick you out because you’re too old and have no job?”
Yoongi frowns at you. His dissatisfaction at the direction of this exchange isn’t even enough to cheer you up at this point. All you want to do is go to sleep. 
“Are you going to be leaving now, or—?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” you say, already turning on your heel to march off their front porch and back to your apartment. “And may I remind you to please, kindly, shut the fuck up, or you will be hearing from campus police shortly. Goodnight.”
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The next morning, you wake up bright and early at seven in the morning for some last-minute morning studying and find yourself relatively well-rested. Well, as well-rested as anyone can be on five hours of sleep. But surprisingly, by the time you were in bed with your eyelids drooping, you could barely hear the Betas next door. Did they actually quiet down? You weren’t actually planning on calling campus police anyway. Huh. 
At 7:50 you whip open your front door, still trying to wrestle your left foot into its shoe, to find a handle of Tito’s Handmade Vodka and a note at your door. 
Thanks for putting up with your super annoying neighbors. We have way too much alcohol, and we figured you could use this to drink so you don’t have to remember that you live next to the Beta house. Or you could celebrate after your exam. 
Your friends, the Beta Tau Sigma fraternity.
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“They just gave you a whole ass bottle of vodka? For free?”
You huff as you bring over the unopened handle of Tito’s to your coffee table, clinking as it thuds against the wooden surface. 
“Well, they didn’t write their Venmo on the Post-it note so, yes, for free,” you say, trying not to complain despite it being your favorite hobby. After all, you did just swing free alcohol from your least favorite people. There could be worse circumstances in life. “But let’s drink it all tonight so that they can’t charge me, just in case.”
“That’s amazing,” Nicole says, in awe as you return from the kitchen again with cups, little stemless wine glasses from IKEA that cost ninety-nine cents each. “I want to live next to the Betas.”
“No, you don’t,” you say pointedly. Despite the free swag, living next to the rowdiest frat house on campus has far more cons than pros. In fact, you could probably name five of them right now, not the least of which is the fact that they throw parties every day of the week except the occasional Monday. 
“Y/N probably has drunk freshies banging on her door every night thinking this is the Beta house,” Seoyoon jokes as she cracks open the bottle with a satisfying pop, her brute strength coming in handy when all of you just want to get drunk and eat like shit in your little apartment on a Friday night like normal college seniors. 
You scoff. “Surprisingly, that’s, like, the one thing that hasn’t happened.”
“Yet,” Seoyoon warns. 
“Yet,” you concede. 
“Oh, come on, living next to the Betas can’t be that bad,” Neha says, pouring herself way more than a shot’s worth of vodka like it’s nobody’s business. Good thing she’s about the biggest tank you know when it comes to drinking. “All of the brothers are so hot.”
“Neha just has a fat crush on the Pres,” Nicole says with a side jab. “Namjoon, right?”
You shrug, trying to pretend like you haven’t learned all of the brothers’ names just so that you can write threatening notes and hang them in your bedroom window. 
“I do not!” Neha exclaims, aghast. “If anyone has a crush on any of the brothers, it’s you. I literally see you stalking that one junior’s Instagram every day.” 
Nicole’s face turns bright red at that revelation, caught in the act. “He’s cute!” She cries out helplessly. 
“Who’s cute?” Seoyoon asks. She has been dating the same girl since junior high. 
“Kim Taehyung,” Neha says as Nicole tries to hide her face in her hoodie, pulling the drawstrings so tightly that only her nose is left exposed. “He’s a junior in Beta. Nicole thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread.”
“You are the worst,” Nicole says through the fabric of her hoodie. 
“I’ll drink to that,” Seoyoon says, holding up her stemless wine glass Great Gatsby-style. “To Nicole and Kim What’s-his-face!”
“To Nicole and Kim What’s-his-face!”
You all clink glasses, downing your first sips with ease. Tito’s Vodka burns your throat on the way down, definitely not your first choice drink, but it gets the job done and the taste vanishes once you help yourself to some orange juice. 
“I hate that shit,” Seoyoon says as she shakes her head, willing the burn away. “No wonder they gave it to you for free. It sucks.”
“I don’t mind it,” Neha comments, already pouring herself another shot. 
“That’s because you drink anything that people will put in front of you,” Seoyoon points out. 
“I think I might have a bottle of Trader Joe’s wine in my fridge?” You offer up as an alternative. Though, at this point you’re not sure which is the better option. Both are just barely passable for your college-student tastes. You receive a round of enthusiastic nods from everyone else, so you push yourself off of your couch and head towards the kitchen. You fish through the back of your refrigerator until you find the rosé in the far corner, bottle all frosty from sitting in your fridge for too long. You reach your hand around the neck and pull it out, knocking over a small stack of different sauces from takeout places that you’ve collected.  
That’s when you hear the buzzer. 
You ignore it for about five seconds, assuming it might just be for someone else and that they hit your button accidentally, but when it rings again, you freeze. 
“Y/N? You up there?”
“Who’s that?” Seoyoon shouts from your living room. 
“I don’t know!” You tell her. You head towards your own buzzer, pressing it. “Yes, who is this?”
“It’s Hoseok from Beta! Can you let us up? We have something for you!”
Fuck, can’t they just leave you alone for one night? One measly Friday night? Why aren’t they throwing their own party like they do every other day? Why do they have to crash yours?
“It’s a surprise!”
You pull your finger off of the buzzer, turning to the rest of your friends to deliberate. 
“What the hell are you doing? Let them up!” Neha exclaims incredulously, like you’ve gone mad just for wanting to ask them first. 
“It could be a prank!” You remind her. 
“Who cares? They want to come upstairs! Ask him if he’s got any of the other brothers with him,” Neha orders strictly. 
You turn back to the buzzer. “Hoseok, is it just you or did you bring friends?”
“Tae and Yoongi are with me, yeah,” Hoseok returns. 
You turn back to your friends, who are all gesturing wildly for you to unlock your door and let them inside. You sigh. Your friends owe you later. Especially Nicole. 
“Fine, come on up. Leave your shoes outside, please!”
You can hear them before you see them. The walls of your apartment are about as soundproof as paper, allowing their voices to travel down the hallway, laughter and snarky comments echoing throughout the building. You hear them kicking off their shoes outside in the corridor, thuds along the creaky hardwood floor before there’s a knock at your door followed by another familiar chuckle. 
“Boys,” you say in lieu of a proper greeting, because chivalry is dead. On the other side stands Hoseok, Taehyung, and Yoongi, in a perfect little triangle formation, grinning happily at you. Hoseok, front and center, has three pizza boxes stacked on top of one another in his hands. “What’s that?”
“What does it look like?” Yoongi deadpans unhelpfully. You sneer at him. 
“Pizza!” Hoseok exclaims. “We ordered too much for a closed rush event and had some left over. Saw all your lights on so we figured we’d share the wealth!”
You narrow your eyes at him, gaze flickering back to Yoongi, whose expression is doing nothing to ease your worries. “You guys put shit in this, didn’t you?”
Hoseok looks accosted. “Oh my God, no! I swear, totally unopened. I don’t even know what kinds of pizza they are.”
Taehyung leans down to look at the sides of the boxes. “Uh, meat lovers, cheese, and… ew, who ordered Hawaiian?”
“Namjoon, he likes it,” Yoongi answers. 
“Gross.” Taehyung scrunches up his nose. 
“Yeah, I swear we haven’t put anything in them. Just thought we’d bring them over. Y’know. Being neighborly, and all,” Hoseok says, cheerful as always. Behind him, Yoongi is grinning, like he knows something you don’t. “Want them?”
“Yes!” shouts Neha from in your living room, where all your friends aren’t even bothering to pretend that they aren’t listening into the entire conversation. “Do you guys wanna join us? We’re drinking the vodka you left Y/N. And some Trader Joe’s wine.”
You turn around to shake your head jerkily at Neha, but it’s too late, because Hoseok and Taehyung are already making their way inside. 
“Ooh, sounds good! If that’s okay with all of you, since we’re kind of crashing your party.” Hoseok nods enthusiastically. He turns to you, since you’re the host and this is your goddamn apartment that he, Taehyung, and Yoongi are walking into, with a quirked eyebrow. You look back at the rest of your friends, who are already scooting over on the chairs and couches to make room for everyone else. You look back at Nicole, who looks positively frozen as Taehyung sits down next to her with a handsome little grin on his face. And you sigh. 
“Yeah, you are,” you agree, glaring at Yoongi as he traipses into your domain, clearly the haughtiest of the three of them. “But it’s whatever. There’s a lot of vodka and a lot of pizza anyway.”
“Great! Thanks for letting us stay,” Hoseok says, making his way over to the rest of your friends. “Nice of you.”
“Maybe you aren’t as much of a stick in the mud as I thought,” Yoongi muses rudely, voice quiet enough so that only you can hear him as he passes by you, sly smirk sitting devilishly on his lips. 
“Hopefully I can bore you enough into leaving,” you sneer back, narrowed eyes gazing directly at his side profile as you both head back towards your living room, trying to act like you both don’t have beef that’s been simmering between the two of you for the past two years in front of all of your friends. 
By the time you reach the circle of people, the only open spaces left are on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table, which you and Yoongi begrudgingly take as Hoseok opens the boxes of pizza out in front of you. As you sit down, your knees bump together, making the both of you frown back at each other as you pull yourselves away, ensuring there is at least half a foot of space between the two of you. 
“Ew, who got Hawaiian? That’s the worst pizza,” Nicole says when Hoseok opens up the box.
“I know, right?” Taehyung exclaims, having finally found someone who hates it as much as he has demonstrated so far. 
“I see you’re putting the vodka we gave you to good use,” Yoongi comments snidely as he watches you pour yourself much more than a single shot’s worth into your glass. 
“I’ll need it if I have to spend the rest of the night next to you,” you fire back easily, trying to hide the way you’re already scrunching up your nose as the thought of having to drink all of what is essentially liquid death in a single go. 
Yoongi frowns. “If that’s the case then hand it over, I’d like some too.”
You pass off the handle to him, watch as he too helps himself to a rather generous serving like he’s dreading the passage of this night just as much as you are. Hey, at least there’s one thing that you can agree on. 
“Cheers,” Yoongi says, holding out his cup towards you. 
You huff. “Cheers.”
Your glasses clink together before you both down your drinks, vodka stinging your tongue and throat as it makes its way through your body. Immediately, you are grasping for the orange juice you poured yourself earlier, chasing down the alcohol with something much sweeter. When you turn to see how Yoongi’s faring, he too seems to be barely stomaching it all, having lost the ability to drink like shit and feel fine afterwards anyway. His reaction makes you feel the slightest bit better. 
“Hey, Yoongi, look at this picture Jimin just sent me,” Taehyung says from Yoongi’s other side, holding out his phone between the two of them. You can’t see what they’re looking at from here. 
“Oh, she’s so cute,” Yoongi says, turning all heart eyes the moment he sees whatever it is that’s in front of him. “Honestly, I just want to go home and sleep with her right now.”
“Why don’t you?” You mutter to yourself. Clearly Yoongi has not changed a bit since you last had a proper conversation with him two years ago. The same asshole he’s always been. 
“Because I’m here with you,” Yoongi answers cleanly, sickly sweet smile on his face.
“Never gonna pass up an opportunity to get drunk, huh?” You muse aloud. “What happened to your nightly parties?”
“Didn’t feel like holding one tonight,” Yoongi responds. “Figured you’d be a generous host and invite us to yours.”
“This is not a party,” you hiss. “And you weren’t invited.”
“Yet here I am,” Yoongi says, as if you need reminding. “You should look on the bright side. Maybe we’ll actually get to spend some quality time together.”
You scowl. “No time ever spent with you could be considered quality.”
“You seriously don’t have anything better to do than sit around my coffee table, eating cold pizza and drinking?” The fact that he’s even here in the first place infuriates you beyond belief, but at least you can already feel that buzz in your head, that perfect tipsy haze that will hopefully make this night a little more palatable. 
Yoongi grins at that, face all flushed from the drinks in his system, cheeks a watermelon pink and lips a cherry red. His black hair is pushed back off of his forehead like he’d been brushing his fingers through it all day, sitting in perfect waves atop his head. 
“Oh, Y/N,” He says, voice airy and soft and completely and utterly patronizing, “there’s no place I would rather be than with you.”
You pour yourself another shot. 
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If there’s a silver lining to any of this, it’s that whatever Min Yoongi majors in, it has zero crossover with chemistry. Maybe that’s why you’ve been able to go two relatively uneventful years without having to see him. So you can go to class with the peace of mind that there is zero chance Min Yoongi will be sitting in one of the seats, or standing behind one of the lab tables ready to deliver some terribly snarky remark. 
You actually have no idea what Yoongi’s interests are. Other than drinking and being unbearable, of course. The last few times you’ve seen him, he’s been doing both activities simultaneously. But if you had to take a guess, you would put your money on something in the arts or humanities, something that doesn’t require the same laser precision that science does, something that lets him do as he pleases, invent new ideas and create new things for him to pick apart at the seams. But it’s not as if you’ve given that much thought, or anything. 
The goal, at this point in the semester, is to just go a week without having to see him. Just one. You’ve invested in some pre-owned noise-cancelling headphones from Facebook Marketplace, taken the back way to get to your classes so you don’t have to walk in front of their house, and even bought your groceries in bits and pieces so that none of the brothers will see you struggling with five reusable grocery bags and offer to help. 
But it looks like your Yoongi-less streak will have to wait until next week. 
“Hey, Y/N!” 
Not even your sunglasses and resting bitch face are enough to deter Taehyung from calling out your name with a big old grin on his face, waving his hands excitedly. You knew you shouldn’t have left your headphones at home. Now you can’t even pretend that you didn’t hear him scream out your name from the front yard of the Beta Tau Sigma house. 
“Tae, what’s up?” You say, forcing as natural of a smile onto your face as you can muster.
“You wanna donate to a good cause and plate a Beta?” He asks cheerfully, motioning to the sign next to him. The brothers have someone managed to drive two wooden sticks into the ground in front of the Beta house, holding up a big fabric sign that says, in bright blue capital letters,
and in much smaller, lowercase letters beneath it, 
fundraising for ending violence against women!!!
You scoff. What a philanthropy to be supporting, considering the beliefs of some of the members of this fraternity. You’re not naming names, but one of them rhymes with Spoon-gi. 
“All you have to do is Venmo the frat five dollars and you can pie a Beta of your choosing with this plate covered in whipped cream!” Taehyung says, holding up one such plate. From the looks of it, he’s definitely already been pied at least twice, remnants of cream on the sides of his face and the front of his muscle tank. “For a good cause!”
“You must be really desperate if you’re asking me,” you comment snidely, approaching Taehyung nonetheless because the concept of stuffing a plate of whipped cream in a certain someone’s face sounds enticing, to say the least. 
“We’ve actually already raised over three hundred dollars since we started this morning!” exclaims Taehyung happily. “I just thought I’d ask you since you’re our neighbor and you put up with so much of our shit anyway. You can pie me, I don’t mind!”
You narrow your eyes, deliberating. You’ve spent five dollars on less important things than the Plate a Beta fundraiser. Like a campus raffle for one of those shitty picnic blankets. Or grossly chewy boba. Even a ratty paperback copy of one of the required books you had to read in your freshman year English class. So what’s another five going to do?
“Alright,” you say with a sigh as Taehyung pumps his hand into the air excitedly. 
“Great! You can pretty much pie any one of the active brothers, even if you don’t see them here right now. They’re probably just inside,” Taehyung recites dutifully. He pushes a piece of paper on the fold-out table in front of him towards you. “Here’s a list, if you need—”
“I already know who I’d like,” you interrupt. “Is Yoongi available?”
Taehyung lets out this hyena cackle before grinning back at you. “Why yes, yes he is.” He turns around to shout at Hoseok, who’s leaning against the front door like he’s just waiting to go fetch the next victim of this fundraiser, “Hobi! Go get Yoongi!”
Hoseok flashes a thumbs up towards Taehyung before disappearing into the house, leaving you and Taehyung standing there, waiting awkwardly for his return. 
“Oh, by the way,” Taehyung remembers suddenly, “thanks for letting us stay and drink with you guys a couple weeks ago. It was a lot of fun.”
You purse your lips together and smile, that tense little nod you do when smiling normally is too forward. “No problem, glad you enjoyed yourself. I think my friends had fun, too.”
“Yeah, um, about that,” Taehyung says, scratching at the nape of his neck, “your one friend, Nicole—?”
“Wake up, Yoongi!”
Hoseok’s high-pitched giggle bounces across the open front lawn as he pushes Yoongi out the front door with a rough shove, shutting it behind him so he can’t go back inside. Yoongi tumbles onto the lawn carelessly, almost losing his footing on the house’s foundation, stumbling over his own feet before he finds his ground. He looks like he’s just been woken up, hair all shaggy and clothes all messy. He’s wearing some grey shorts and a white shirt that’s at least three sizes too big, the neckline hanging loosely over his collarbones and shoulder, almost falling off entirely. Yoongi rubs the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand, looking up drowsily to the fundraiser table. 
And then he sees you. 
You’re grinning beyond belief, unwilling to restrain your excitement at getting to pie him in the face. Sounds like fun, in your opinion. Doesn’t really matter what Yoongi thinks. 
When he meets your eyes, he grins lazily, the corners of his lips turning upwards ever so slightly. 
“What a treat, Y/N,” he muses to you. 
“For me,” you add on crassly. “You look like you just walked off a zombie movie set.”
“Just for you,” Yoongi says. “Who else would I get pied in the face for?”
“Don’t think I’m doing this for you,” you warn harshly as Taehyung hands you the paper plate covered in whipped cream, ordering you both to stand in the designated pie square, demarcated by white spray paint on the grass. “I’m doing this for me. And for women.”
“How noble of you,” Yoongi commends mockingly. 
“I’m such a giver, aren’t I?”
With that, you mash the paper plate into Yoongi’s face without hesitation, making sure to rub it in particularly well before pulling away. Needless to say, Yoongi’s face is covered with the stuff, making him look like the victim of a shaving cream prank gone horribly wrong or horribly right, depending on how you see it. Yoongi wipes away the cream in his eyes before blinking back up at you, forcing a grin. 
“You look even more handsome than normal,” you sneer. “I think it’s because we can’t see your face.”
“It’s an honor to be complimented by you, Y/N,” Yoongi manages to retort out anyway, even as he grabs a nearby towel to begin wiping his face. Y’know, I can think of another scenario where we’re together but you can’t see my face. It happens at nighttime, you see—”
“I better not hear the end of that sentence, Min—”
And for once, by some strange miracle, the gods listen to your plea. 
From practically out of nowhere, Hoseok and two other brothers (Namjoon and Jimin, if you’re remembering correctly) emerge with a gigantic, neon orange cooler filled with presumably water, and dump it on Yoongi’s head before either of you can get another word in. You are, luckily, standing far enough away from him to only get some splashes on your ankles, but that doesn’t spare you in any way from the scene in front of you. 
Yoongi is drenched from head to toe, having just gotten well over several gallons of water poured on top of him football game-style, a rude wake-up call for the man who clearly rolled out of bed five minutes ago. Hair sopping wet, he brushes it out of his face with both of his hands, inadvertently displaying his terribly see-through white shirt in its full glory. The fabric sticks to the skin of his torso, the bulges of his arms, leaving very little to the imagination. You try not to look but where else can your eyes go but the waterlogged boy in front of you, standing in a puddle of water and whipped cream before your gaze. 
You eventually manage to blink hard enough to snap you out of your trance, eyes darting all over the place before they land back on a seething Yoongi, who looks about three steps into the stages of grief. Hoseok and the other two screech before skirting off, out of Yoongi’s reach so he can’t enact any immediate revenge on them. 
Yoongi, left with no other option than to dry off, begins to wring out his hair with the towel from earlier. 
“Like what you see, hmm?” He says, somehow able to bask in your alarm despite being the butt of a very spontaneous prank no less than sixty seconds ago. 
“Yes, I do like practical jokes at your expense, thank you,” you answer cheerfully, knowing damn well that that’s not what Yoongi’s talking about. 
“I’m glad I could be of entertainment to you,” Yoongi says. “You can keep looking, if you want.”
You pretend to dwell on it for a couple seconds before shaking your head. “Actually, I think I’d better start heading out.”
“Aw, come on, Y/N,” Yoongi teases. “You know, I’m gonna need some help cleaning up after this…”
“I don’t think you’ll have any problem finding someone happy to help,” you hiss, already beginning to make your way back to the main road. “Maybe some other time.”
“I’ll hold you to that!” Yoongi calls as you leave the Beta front lawn. You honk out a laugh as you go, shaking your head to yourself. 
Eh. There are worse ways to spend five dollars, you decide.
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Frat parties are beneath you. 
This is what you say to yourself whenever you get that nagging feeling in the back of your head, feel that little pull that invites you back to the sweatiest, grossest, loudest places on campus. You learned your lesson after that night in sophomore year, swore off frat parties and frat brothers themselves, and you never looked back. You are a senior. You are about to graduate and move on from your undergraduate years. Frat parties are beneath you. 
Frat parties are not beneath Nicole. 
Granted, she’s not exactly going so that she can get shitty beer and even shittier gin spilled on her Converse sneakers by freshmen who don’t understand boundaries. She’s going because Taehyung had texted her through Facebook Messenger to come because it would be “a fun night” and Nicole jumped at the chance. Nicole is going for him
So you are going for her. 
Nicole is smart enough to know her drinking limits and avoid putting herself in unsafe situations if she can help it. She also seems to trust Taehyung a fair bit, and while you wouldn’t go as far to let him catch you if you were falling, you know him well enough to reason that he’s probably fine. Emphasis on the word “probably”. You’ve been duped before. You won’t let her make the same mistakes. She’s only one year younger than you, of course, but better to be safe than sorry. 
“No sleeping over,” you mutter as you walk from your apartment to the Beta house, the ground already shaking from the music booming inside. “If you don’t feel like going back to your place then sleep at mine, alright?”
“Yes, mom,” Nicole says with a roll of her eyes as you approach the same freshman from earlier in the year, stuck on door duty for what appears to be the foreseeable future. 
“Know a brother?” He grunts out, just as unhappy as he was the last time you met him. 
“Taehyung invited me,” Nicole says cheerfully. “Hoseok and Yoongi are also here, right?”
Great, now you’ll have to try even harder to avoid Yoongi tonight. If it weren’t for the fact that you are determined to make sure Nicole doesn’t get her night ruined by any assholes, you’d leave immediately.
The boy steps aside, having been given satisfactory enough answers. Funny, how frat parties are supposed to be this selective thing, yet anybody who knows anybody can get in if they try hard enough, and it’s not as if the inside radiates the same exclusivity anyway. Why would you want to get shoved into a dark room with ear-killing music and throat-killing alcohol? 
“Hey, you guys made it!” Taehyung shouts when he sees the two of you, stumbling down from the stairs to greet the two of you, already swirling a half-empty beer bottle between his fingers. “Glad you came. It’s nice to see you.”
“You, too,” Nicole says, grinning wildly. “Thanks for inviting us.”
“Anytime! You know our door’s always open,” Taehyung answers. 
“Yeah, literally,” you mutter to yourself. No wonder it’s so loud. Have they considered shutting the door every now and then? Or is wasting money on air conditioning something they pride themselves on?
“Can I get you guys anything to drink? Beer? Shots? Lemonade? I’d offer the jungle juice but Jimin accidentally put salt in it instead of sugar and it tastes terrible,” Taehyung says, walking you around through a totally unoccupied side passageway you didn’t even realize existed until you land in the kitchen, where all the decent drinks are. 
“Just a beer is fine for me,” Nicole says. 
“Same,” you add on. You’ve had enough shots for the rest of your life. No more. 
Taehyung hands two of you some bottles from the fridge, which is clearly filled with nothing but alcohol. “You wanna come downstairs? We’re playing pool down there. Away from all the noise.”
Nicole turns to you with her eyebrows raised, waiting for your move. 
You shake your head. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll just stay up here and try not to let my ears bleed.” As much as you’d like to get away from the noise, you’ve never been a very good pool player. Besides, you want to look out for Nicole but you don’t want to look after her. She also probably does not want you lingering around her all night like a helicopter parent. “You go ahead, though.”
“You sure? It’s way more fun down there,” Taehyung asks. 
“Maybe I’ll join later. You guys have fun, though. Text me if you need anything, Nicole,” you assure them. 
As they walk away, you can see Nicole mouth the word “thanks” before disappearing into the basement, behind a locked door clearly meant for brothers and special guests only. You make a mental note to check on them in an hour or so, by which point you will undoubtedly be sick of standing in the kitchen anyway and want to head downstairs anyway. 
You settle for leaning against the counter—the same dusty grey granite, the same wobbly cupboard doors as before—and sipping your beer in relative peace, away from all of the noise in the main room two doors over. It’s boring, but you’d rather be unentertained than over-entertained, or entertained by the wrong person. Maybe, if Hoseok is the one who’s curated the nightly Spotify playlist, you can convince him to play some music that you actually like. 
The hour passes by without incident. You spend the better half of it staring at news articles on your phone, because no time is a bad time to be informed, taking small sips of your beer every now and then. It’s pretty good for beer from a frat house’s fridge, quite light and fruity. Taehyung must have saved some for the two of you. You know, you could get used to that kind of special treatment for your occasional frat brother crossover. 
Just as you’re ready to head downstairs, your relative peace and quiet gets rudely interrupted by a drunk freshman, who darts into the kitchen and throws up into the sink before you even realize what’s happening. They stand there, hunched over the sink, for a good thirty seconds. You sigh. You know what that feels like. 
“At least it’s not the floor, right?”
You’re ashamed to say you didn’t even see him coming. Yoongi laughs to himself at his little deja vu moment. 
“Hope your garbage disposal still works,” you comment snidely. 
“Yeah, it should. We just had it fixed a couple months ago. Namjoon accidentally broke a plate in the sink and some pieces of glass ended up shredding the shit out of it, so,” Yoongi tells you. 
“Cool.” It’s not. 
“Didn’t think I’d see you in here again,” Yoongi says as he takes another sip of his own beer, a different draft than yours but smelling just as pungent. 
“I’m here for a friend,” you inform him simply. “She’s downstairs.”
“Nicole, right? Tae mentioned he invited her,” Yoongi says. “Surprised you came along, though.”
“I live the closest,” you say with a bit of a huff. All this just because of your last-minute sublet. Maybe you should have just choked up the extra money and lived on campus. Your life would be so much simpler. “Why are you even up here? Thought you didn’t like all the noise.”
“I was just planning on grabbing another beer,” Yoongi says, holding up his empty bottle. “Then I saw you, and couldn’t resist stopping for a chat.”
“How thoughtful.”
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Yoongi says, rolling his eyes at your stubbornness. “We’ve been spending a lot more time together lately. That’s gotta count for something, right?”
“You act like one pie in the face and a night in and suddenly we’re best friends,” you point out. 
“I’m just trying to make our senior year enjoyable for the both of us,” Yoongi says, clearly getting a little exasperated. “We’re neighbors, aren’t we? We’re bound to see each other. We have no choice.”
“Yes, we do,” you correct harshly. “We do have a choice. I can choose to talk to you, or not talk to you. I can choose to be next to you, or away from you.”
“You’re talking to me now.” He raises an eyebrow at you matter-of-factly. 
You throw your hands up into the air helplessly, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door. You’ll text Nicole later, make sure she’s still coming over afterwards to spend the night. You sure as hell hope she’s having more fun than you are right now. 
Unsurprisingly, Yoongi follows you outside until you’re standing on the front porch of the Beta house, so that anyone passing by can see the two of you argue with each other at one in the morning like normal, functioning adults. 
“Hit a nerve, did I?” Yoongi calls out, fighting back laughter. 
“You just have to be a big show off, don’t you?” You shout back. “I can’t go one week without you showing up randomly and inserting yourself into my life!”
“You’re the one who came to the Beta party,” Yoongi says. 
You huff. “I didn’t come for you, in case that wasn’t already perfectly clear.”
“And yet here we are anyway,” Yoongi says. 
You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling your body boil. “Are you just going to stand there and act like a know-it-all, or—?”
“I’m just stating facts here,” Yoongi says defensively. “You’re the one acting like talking to me is the end of the world.”
“That’s because, and maybe this needs to be spelled out for you, we aren’t exactly friends, Yoongi.” You can’t believe you’re actually saying this aloud. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you and Yoongi aren’t on the same page. Hell, you’re not even reading the same goddamn book. “We may be neighbors, but that does not make us buddies.”
“But we’re acquaintances, aren’t we?” Yoongi asks, and the worst part about the question is how genuine it is. Like Yoongi’s trying to establish some sort of boundary between the two of you. A line so that both of you know what not to cross. “Our friends have crushes on each other. Hoseok thinks you’re the perfect person to deliver leftovers to. And you came to our party tonight.”
You stand there, silent, arms pressed against your torso. 
“Geez, and the crowd goes wild,” Yoongi says. “You don’t even consider us acquaintances? I’m hurt.”
In some ways, Yoongi is right. You have been seeing an awful lot of each other lately, whether you’d like to admit it or not. Before you moved into your spring sublet, it had been two full years since your last proper interaction, and suddenly you’re seeing each other every week like it’s nobody’s business. 
You sigh, shoulders heavy. You don’t feel like arguing with him anymore. Don’t feel like putting yourself through another unbearable exchange with your relationship as the hot button topic. Besides, Yoongi infuriates you but at least he’s not a bad conversationalist. At least you know you’ll always be entertained when he’s around. 
“I’m just keeping my distance,” you tell him sharply. “But if me saying we’re acquaintances will help you sleep better at night, then yeah, I guess we are. I pied you in the face, after all.”
“Something I will never forget,” Yoongi says with a smile. “Getting water dumped on me afterwards mustn't have been too bad for you either, hmm?”
“Oh, shut up,” you say, shaking your head. “You think too highly of yourself.”
“Come on, Y/N, I saw the way you looked at me. You can’t even deny it.” Yoongi’s lips turn up into a knowing smirk, the most irritating kind of them all. 
“I can, and I will,” you say, just as haughtily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Yoongi lets out a bark of laughter at that, tilting his head back with a smile. “Alright, whatever tickles your pickle. I won’t judge.”
Standing across from him, you purse your lips, fighting the urge to let the corners turn upwards into a smile. Never a dull moment, when you’re with him. 
“You still going home? Or can I convince you to stay a little longer and play some pool downstairs with me?” Yoongi takes a step backwards, towards the front door, that same smirk dancing along his lips. 
You pretend to check the non-existent watch on your wrist, thinking about it for a couple seconds just to stretch out the moment even longer. “Only if you let me win.”
“Oh, Y/N,” Yoongi says, shaking his head fondly as he opens the door for you, stands to the side to let you in first. “Not a chance.”
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Funnily enough, after all you went through that night, you don’t ever hear from Nicole how it went on her end. Granted, you assume it went well, because she would definitely tell you if it didn’t go well, but all you did after the party that night was crash in your apartment without saying a word to each other. You had a good time, surprisingly enough, despite being coerced into playing a couple of games of pool with Yoongi, who absolutely destroyed you because he has a pool table in his basement and you don’t even have a basement. You blamed your loss on the beer, too proud to admit that he’s good at anything, even though you had barely one bottle and it had worn off about an hour in anyway. Still. Yoongi didn’t need to know that. 
Strange, how things have turned out. How one week you’re screaming at Yoongi to shut up or face the wrath of campus police, and another you’re standing opposite him with cue sticks in your hands. Maybe living next to the Beta Tau Sigma house is making you soft for all the brothers. Yikes.
You and Yoongi may never see eye to eye, but when you’re standing in the basement with a billiards table in between the two of you and victory on the line, where else are you supposed to look but him?
Sighing at the peculiar turn of events, you take another sip of your iced coffee as you make your way to the campus library for a good old fashioned study session. You have another inorganic chemistry exam coming up, and you don’t even know what you don’t know. The automatic glass doors open when you step into the library, whooshing to the side as you beeline towards the elevators, hoping to snag a spot on the third floor (the best one, in your opinion) before they’re all full. But you don’t make it.
The elevator’s working fine. It’s Yoongi that distracts you. 
For a second, you don’t even know where his voice is coming from. Your eyes dart around wildly, scanning the tables and desks for that familiar tuft of black hair, until you find Yoongi standing behind the checkout counter, chuckling at your clear inability to identify him. 
“You work here?” You ask, approaching him. He’s got a whole stack of worn books in his hands, biceps bulging out of his muscle tank as he plops them down onto a shelving cart. 
“Volunteer. I just stand here and check out the occasional book,” Yoongi answers. “I saw you and just thought I’d say hi.”
You narrow your eyes in suspicion. “Really?” 
Yoongi laughs. “Okay, I actually had a question.”
You purse your lips but nod the go-ahead anyway. “This better be a real question, and not ‘would you like to sleep with me’ or something.”
“Well, if that’s where your mind is at, then we can arrange something,” Yoongi teases, making you scowl at him. He grins at your reaction, clearly having gotten what he wanted out of you. “Alright, alright, I’m kidding. It’s actually about your friend, Nicole.”
“What about her?” You say, finding yourself getting a little bit protective over her.
“Taehyung has this bonkers huge crush on her. Like, enormous. All we ever talk about is what the next thing is that we can invite her to. It’s getting a little annoying, in a nice way,” Yoongi explains all informatively, shaking his head but looking fond nonetheless. 
You don’t even bother fighting away the smile inching its way across your face. That’s definitely the cutest thing you’ve heard in a long time. Nicole’s usually more reserved about her feelings, but you can just tell that it’s obvious she likes him back. In fact, if you had to describe her current emotions, it would be overarching anxiety that he does not like her the same way she likes him. 
But it sounds like she’s got nothing to worry about. 
“And I wanted to ask you if you could help me set them up?” Yoongi poses. “You know, like matchmaking them. Except they already like each other, so I suppose it’s not really matchmaking…”
“Well, how do I know he’s not going to just use her?” You say, refusing to give in just yet. Taehyung seems like a nice guy but then again, first impressions can be deceiving. 
“What do you mean?” Yoongi furrows his brows at you, like the question you just asked him is the stupidest thing of all. “You know him, he’s the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. Just look at these texts he sends to me.”
Yoongi holds out his phone for you to read, not even caring if you snoop through his other messages. 
[March 16th, 1:25PM]
Taehyung: OHHHH MY GOD SHE JUST SAID HI TO ME AS SHE WALKED BY Taehyung: SHE’S SO CUTE AHHHHHHHHHHHHH HER LITTLE SMILE Taehyung: i think im going to have a heart attack Taehyung: bruh what if i just proposed like on the spot like right here
Yoongi: you don’t even know your own ring size
[March 18th, 10:03PM]
Taehyung: is it too annoying if we host another party just so she can come over and we can play smash in the basement Taehyung: as in like, super smash bros not just smashing
Yoongi: why don’t you just ask her anyway we don’t need to be throwing a party for her to come you know
Taehyung: yeah but then it’s WEIRD god yoongo keep up
Yoongi: i mean if she likes you back then she’d probably just say yes anyway
Yoongi: you do that even when we are doing stuff
Taehyung: :(
[March 21st, 5:07PM]
Taehyung: hey youre friends with y/n right
Yoongi: well…
Taehyung: do you think you can ask her to ask nicole about me Taehyung: i just wanna know what im working with here
Yoongi: why don’t you just do it
Taehyung: IM TOO SHY
“Yeah,” Yoongi says as you hand his phone back to him, pretty convinced. “So.”
“I see.” You nod firmly. 
“Do you think you can help? We’re throwing another party this weekend, more exclusive than our usuals. Invites only. You and her are welcome to come.”
“You better not take advantage of her or me,” you warn sternly, because even if a smaller-scale party sounds nicer, there’s no telling what the hell could happen. “I’m warning you now, Yoongi.”
“What the heck, of course we’re not gonna do that, geez.” Yoongi puts his hands up in surrender, a little alarmed at your insistence. “Seriously, Y/N. Promise. Taehyung’s a great guy. And I’m not saying that just because. He really is.”
You sigh. Yeah, he is. He’s friendly and happy and funny and respectful. Even you can’t deny that. “Alright. I’ll see if I can get her to go.”
“Awesome, thank you so much,” Yoongi says, looking genuinely grateful. “By the way, I wanted to ask—what made you move next to our house?”
You shrug. “It was the cheapest one bedroom sublet I could find. I figured I’d better take it and just figure out what to do with you guys later on.”
Yoongi chuckles. “Guess we really gave you a run for your money, huh?”
“My freshman year, I lived in between two four-person suites filled with boys. You guys aren’t even at half the level as them,” you say. “Don’t get any ideas, though. I’m a lot less tolerable now than I was back then.”
He laughs at that. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”
“What are you doing, huh?” You ask, finding yourself wanting the conversation to continue. “After grad, I mean.”
Yoongi shrugs. “Not sure. I’m majoring in music production but I think I wanna go to grad school, so. We’ll see.”
That answers that. So you were right, after all, about him. 
“That sounds cool. Good for you.”
“What about you? Chem, right?”
You nod. “Unfortunately. I’ve got a job lined up at a research lab in the hospital, so I’ll do that for a bit before seeing what else there is. Just taking things as they come.”
“Research? That sounds like fun,” Yoongi says. 
You hold up your enormous inorganic chemistry textbook, worn thin from use, and sigh. “Yeah, well, I have to pass this stupid class, first.”
“Yikes. Looks rough,” Yoongi winces. “Crazy, isn’t it? How the time flies. I remember sophomore year like it was yesterday.”
So do you. “Yeah. Kind of weird to think that we’re seniors, now. So much has changed.”
Yoongi looks up at you, a little hopeful, a little optimistic, in the smallest, tiniest way. “Has it, though?”
Your eyes widen slightly at the thought. Quickly, you sputter out, “I gotta, go, Yoongi, seriously, I have another big exam coming up—”
“Oh, okay,” he responds just as fast, just as caught-off-guard. “Well, uh, thanks for the help with Tae. Promise he’ll take good care of Nicole.”
You scoff a little, already heading back towards the elevator. “Yeah, as long as he didn’t learn anything from you.”
The elevator door opens ten feet away, another student exiting the library, and you dash in before you have to hear anything else come out of his mouth. Even though you’re pressing the close button, the doors have never shut so slowly. 
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Three hours, thirty-seven texts, and six missed calls. That’s how you’ve spent your night, desperately attempting to contact Nicole after she had informed you this afternoon that Taehyung had invited her to another Beta party and that she was planning on going. Which is cool. You’re not going to bar her from going to places. Nor are you going to chaperone her like an adult on a field trip. You didn’t even feel like accompanying her either, because some nights you’d rather just sit and rewatch old episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine in your bed. 
But how hard is it to send one text? Leave a ten-second message? You aren’t looking for an entire recount of her night out. You just want to make sure she’s not dead. Her phone might be, though. 
Perhaps if you loved sleep a little more, or if you cared about your friends a little less, you wouldn’t think too much of it. You would make sure to check on her tomorrow morning and go to sleep like anyone else. But you are not anyone else. You are you, and you live next to the Beta Tau Sigma house. 
This time you don’t even bother telling the boy at the front door the names of all the frat brothers you know. You just shove yourself by him before he even knows what’s going on, sneaking past the groups of people on their way out, laughing and giggling and smelling of nothing but alcohol. You didn’t realize it was already close to three in the morning. Have you really been awake this whole time? You must have dozed off at some point, because you think you can still feel the dried drool at the corner of your lips. 
You’ve never been inside a near-empty frat house. It’s sort of a surreal experience, if you’re being honest. The lights are still off but the music isn’t playing anymore, laptop unplugged from the speakers and sitting, forgotten, on the designated DJ table. The floor is covered in glowsticks and solo cups, a barren wasteland. Some of the brothers have congregated in the kitchen, another is passed out on the dinky leather couch in the hallway, and others are just milling around, too wasted or too tired to bother cleaning up. 
In a way, it feels haunting. Frat houses are almost always filled to the brim, bursting with noise and energy, that seeing it occupied by only its own inhabitants is horror-movie worthy. Makes you think there’s something wrong with the place. 
Yoongi spots you from halfway down the stairs, squinting just to make sure it’s you. You can’t even blame him. You’d be surprised, too. 
“Yoongi,” you say stupidly, feeling a little lost in this wide open landscape. 
“What are you doing here?” He asks as he jogs down the stairs, walking up to stand next to you. 
“Nicole told me she was here and she hasn’t been answering any of my texts, I just wanted to make sure…” You lose your train of thought when you see him come up to you, concern lacing his brows as he blinks at you, eyes wide and cheeks pink. For once he hasn’t got that stupid smug little grin on his face, that devilish glint in his eyes. He just looks… content.
“Nicole? Taehyung walked her home about an hour ago,” he explains simply. “She dropped her phone in the basement toilet so… that’s probably why you haven’t been able to contact her.”
“Oh,” you say stupidly. “Is he back?”
“Yeah, he’s—oh, there he is.” Yoongi points behind you where Taehyung is sitting on the floor by the dining room table, arms wrapped around a pillow, drunk or lovestruck, or both. As the other brothers pass by him, they ruffle his caramel hair and tease him about the lipstick on his face. Ah. 
“Okay,” you acknowledge, suddenly feeling at once very foolish for coming over. It’s so late, and there’s no doubt Yoongi will want to just pass out after this instead of talk to you, and you’ve pretty much just wasted everyone’s time. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Sure. You know Taehyung would never pull something like that, right?” Yoongi asks. 
You scoff a little. “No, but wouldn’t you?”
Yoongi frowns at that, looking too confused for his expression to be fake. “What are you talking about?”
“That night,” you begin. No need to elaborate, you both know exactly which night you’re referring to. 
“What about that night?” It’s clearly a bit of a sore spot for the both of you. 
“Well, we… spent the night together and then the next morning I overheard you talking about me,” you say awkwardly. The truth is that neither of you have really discussed what happened between the two of you since that night, preferring to just shun one another and manifest this evil version of the other in your minds. Maybe you should have, but it’s too late to go back and change that now, so you have no choice but to dredge it up here instead. 
“I wasn’t talking about you,” Yoongi says. “I mean, I was, but that was after you blew me off and refused to answer any of my messages.”
“I blew you off because of what you said about me,” you insist. Ghosting him was not the worst thing you could have done. Back then, you considered it pretty even payback after hearing the things he said. “You said that I was easy, and that—that you wanted to share me with the house.” Even just saying the words brings a vile taste into your mouth. 
Yoongi furrows his brows for a second, trying to recall that morning after, that conversation he had with that brother, before he realizes. “You mean my cat?”
“I had just adopted my cat that morning,” Yoongi elaborates. “I went to the shelter in town and picked her up. It was really easy, and I thought she would become a nice moodmaker for our house.”
“You… you adopted a cat?” You ask again, just for clarification because you can’t actually believe it. Min Yoongi has a cat? 
“Yeah, her name is Miso,” he says. “Wait, did you think I was talking about you?”
“Well…” You trail off, feeling more and more idiotic with every second. “Maybe.”
“Oh my God, Y/N, seriously? I would never say those things about you. About anyone,” Yoongi says like it’s obvious, which, in hindsight, it very much is. 
You throw your hands up in the air. “I didn’t know! That’s what I thought, too, but then I overheard you saying that and I thought you were talking about me and that you were just another asshole looking for a cheap one-night-stand, and I assumed shit. I’m sorry.”
Yoongi doesn’t look mad. He doesn’t even look a little peeved. He just looks helpless, because there’s nothing he can do to change what’s happened between the two of you even if all it really took was just a proper conversation. You, on the other hand, must look like a goddamn fool. A very regretful one, at that. 
He forces out half of a laugh, this soft little noise that makes him shake his head. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. Maybe I should have told you I wanted a cat.”
You roll your eyes. “Definitely would have saved us a lot from the last two years.”
He takes a step forward, impossibly closer. “You really thought I just saw you as a one-night-stand?”
“I don’t know…” You twiddle your fingers, eyes gazing downwards at your gross old sneakers as you rock back and forth. “I… didn’t want you to think of me that way.”
“I didn’t,” he assures you, reaching out to lift your chin up, the pads of his fingers pressing against the skin of your jaw, bringing your eyes up to his own. “I wanted something more than that from the moment I saw you.”
“Saw me throwing up in your sink,” you remember fondly. 
“A man’s dream come true,” Yoongi jokes, making you both laugh. “No, I really did. I wanted to go out on dates and hold your hand and kiss you on the benches on campus.”
Well, that’s news to you. 
“Didn’t you want that, too?” A dip into the water. 
You smile softly, gazing at him through your lashes. “Maybe I did.”
And then, a jump. 
“Do you want that, still?”
How could you ever think you’d be able to resist him? How could you ever think that your attraction had faded? Min Yoongi has been next to you ever since that night. You just never realized it until he finally stood in front of you, instead. 
“Maybe I do.”
There, standing in the middle of an empty open room, littered with streamers and empty cups and glowsticks and wet puddles on the floor, he kisses you. Pulls you in like he did that very first night you met, intoxicating and electric. You aren’t drunk, you aren’t dressed all nicely, you are just you, and he is just him. Two years have gone by but the feeling is the same. That warmth that fills you up, the grinning against his lips. Sparks flew then but they are flames now, embers that burn deep within you. 
Before you tumble into his bed that night, Yoongi has to move a certain grey tabby off of his duvet. But once you finally do, it makes you never want to leave. 
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The next morning, you aren’t woken up by an alarm, or the cold air, or even Yoongi himself. Instead, what rouses you is the feeling of little paws on your body, stepping over you like you’re nothing but carpet. 
Miso seems to have decided that you’re quite alright, after careful consideration. Or maybe she just wants someone to get up so she can eat breakfast. Next to you, Yoongi sleeps soundly, little snores leaving his mouth as he curls himself up underneath the sheets. Slowly, you remove yourself from under the covers, sliding your feet off the edge of the bed as Miso comes up to rub against you. 
“You know how much grief you have caused me and him?” You ask her as she meows happily. “If I had just known you existed, we could have all saved so much time.”
From beside you, Yoongi stirs, barely looking at you through his half-lidded eyes, grinning lazily. 
“I was just telling Miso that she’s caused us a lot of angst,” you tell him. 
“Mmm,” Yoongi hums in agreement. He pushes himself upright, the sheets falling to reveal his bare chest and messy hair, tousled and knotted from a night of sleep and a couple hours of pulling on it. Whoops. “But you’re here now, aren’t you?”
“It appears that I am,” you say, smiling down happily at Miso. 
“Hey,” he says, leaning over to give Miso a bit of a pet before turning his gaze towards you. “Kiss me before you leave?”
It sounds so familiar. But what Yoongi doesn’t know is that you aren’t leaving at all. You’ll be next to him for a long time, you hope. No choice in that. 
You raise your eyebrows at him. “What makes you think I’m going anywhere?”
When you press your lips to his once more, you feel a soft head of fur brush against the side of your face. 
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↳ thanks for reading! don’t forget to let me know if you enjoyed it!
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hobidreams · 20 days ago
october 1871.
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is it truly better to have loved and lost?
pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader words: 2.3k warning: mentions of blood. historical note: “mama” is the korean equivalent of “your highness” & the proper address for a queen. her family can simply call her that, but others must add her official title as well.
moonlit throne index. this is drabble 39. start from the beginning?
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It’s a beautiful day for a wedding.
The sun is high and bright, a rare sight for autumn. The day’s breeze is pleasantly cool as it blows across the palace grounds. It drifts past the skirt of your brightly-colored hanbok as you stand in front of one of the halls, barely paying attention to the clamorous chatter of the people crowded around you. (Especially since their excited conversations have turned to the scandalous topic of you more than once already, as if they thought you did not possess ears of your own.)
Save for those few who are busy in the kitchens preparing the ritual meal, every other palace occupant has stopped their work on this auspicious day. At least where you stand, you are afforded some more room than the other spectators, for a painter has been busily constructing his workspace beside you and his materials demand space. As far as you can see down either side, people line the path that the royal palanquin had taken some time ago on its way towards the town for the ceremonial tour of the nearby grounds, to allow the regular citizens a glimpse of their esteemed ruler and his imminent wife.
Despite yourself, you’d come.
You’d looked for him as the procession passed you by, though you only managed to see a brief flash of his silk robes. Nothing of his expression. He would be smiling, you think. Not the lazy, gentle curve of his lips in the hazy light of morning, or that oft-teasing smirk you’ve come to expect before soft kisses. No, it would be that frozen grin meant to fool those who did not know him as you did. As you do, you correct in your mind to no one at all, since the distinction feels more important than you’re willing to admit.
Southward, the sound of clapping and cheers suddenly soars towards the sky. Voices near you echo in kind, exploding with exclamations. “They must be returning!”
“I hope they are slow coming back. I didn’t get to see jungjeon-mama’s hairpin last time!”
Your fingers feel empty and useless, so you clench the fabric of your skirt to stop their trembling. Yes—if you squint your eyes, you can see it now. First, the men on horseback, guiding the entire procession. Then, the guards marching in uniformity, their spears pointed towards the sky by their sides. All this ceremony. All this celebration. The first palanquin will be your king. You can see the red roof of it already, coming closer and closer at a measured pace.
“Congratulations, jeonha!”
“May your marriage be long and prosperous!”
You close your fist tighter, knuckles turning white. Yoongi is so close, but his head is turned to the other side. You want him to look at you every bit as much as you want to avoid his eyes. It would be so satisfying to prove his feelings towards you in front of everyone if he held your gaze, but—you know only intense scrutiny from the others will linger when the moment has passed.
What will you do?
The palanquin draws near.
Will he find you in the crowd?
A loud, startled whinny. In front, one of the horses rears back, its legs kicking wildly in the air. The procession stops immediately. Thankfully, no one crashes into another as the crowd’s cheers are replaced with confused murmurings.
“Yah! Down!” The rider barks. He pulls on the reins, his grip firm until the horse has all hooves on the ground once more. Then he turns to bow his head to the king. “My sincere apologies, jeonha! It must have thought there was a creature on the ground.”
“No matter.” The king waves his hand dismissively. “Continue.”
The slow rumbling starts again as thousands of stepping feet regain their momentum. The ground shakes from the movement, mimicking the quivering of your limbs. But now, Yoongi looks only forward at the horses, towards his ultimate destination as he moves onward. Past you.
This is for the best.
Despite how your disappointment festers, you know that escaping attention is better than anything else. You try to keep your head straight instead of letting it bow like it wants to, as the dozens of high-ranking people that make up the escort follow. It will be the bride’s palanquin soon. Or, jungjeon-mama, as you will soon be calling her. She follows close behind, as if visually presenting herself as his fated pair.
You press your lips firmly together even as the women around you turn to delighted shouts. “Look at her jeogori! The embroidery!”
“I wish I could wear such a thing.” This, an envious whisper from your left.
A snort. “You would have to marry the king first!”
But you are no longer listening to them.
Seong-min has found you all on her own.
Her eyes lock straight on yours as her procession is pulled slowly past. From her position, raised by so many hands, she is literally looking down her nose at you and what a sharpness you find there. Like a quick blade, her stare glimmers with ice. It makes you deadly certain she knows all about you and who you really are. Cold sweat drips down your spine, your knees shivering even as the palanquin moves on, followed by an entire slew of well-dressed personnel.
But you, rooted in place, you can only replay the look in her eyes. The triumph. Now it’s harder to breathe. The world around you, despite all the festivities, the voices, the colors—it all feels muted, as if your ears are stuffed with fabric. This is happening. It is really, truly happening. And you came to watch, as if to carry out the finishing blow yourself. Should you go now? Have you seen enough? You know what comes next. You are so afraid of what comes next.
“Wouldn’t you say they look rather suited for one another, uinyeo-nim?”
The question forcibly snatches your attention. Your chest still constricting, you slowly turn to face the question-asker, the very painter who has been sketching away on his canvas. He looks away from his work towards you with round, dark eyes that light with mirth. He is the only other person today who has been willing to meet your gaze, as everyone else is much too occupied with pretending you don’t exist while watching you furtively anyway, for later gossip.
“Y-Yes,” you manage, the word sticking in the back of your throat. “Quite.” You urge a smile to come up, plastering it across your red lips.
He turns back; swipes his brush across the page. “Yet your smile does not quite reflect in your eyes.”
You are instantly and instinctively offended at his brashness. How dare he be so direct when he already knows exactly why you are feeling this way?
Then you realize—he must be from outside the palace. Of course. He does not know who you are, or your relation to the king. How could he? You are no one of importance.
When you do not respond, he exclaims in that easy way of his, “Ah! Perhaps it is because you are unmarried, and thus feeling lonely on such a day like this?”
You force out something meant to resemble a casual laugh. “Y-You have caught me, master-nim! That is correct.”
His smile is wide and boxy, flashing a hint of teeth. “I’d thought as much. Though, I am surprised a beautiful woman like you remains unwed.”
You are so surprised you actually jerk back. You don’t know what to make of this bold man, who seems as if he is making advances on you despite your rank. He must know that as an uinyeo, no matter your employer, you are a cheonmin. And he must be far, far above you as a chungin, especially considering his mastery of the arts. You can see his skill for yourself. His painting, though it is far from finished, is a beautiful smattering of regal color and ink.
“Um, were you invited here to paint the scene, master-nim?” You hurriedly ask, hoping he will drop the previous subject. Before you both, the ceremonial march continues.
“Oh, yes. One of the ministers requested I paint something he intends to give jeonha as a present. Though I think it would be much more fun to give the king some of my writings instead.”
“The king does do much reading,” you say. “He would probably like that.” Then it strikes you that you are revealing information that someone of your station should not be privy to.
Thankfully, the painter does not seem to notice. Instead, he laughs loudly in that deep voice of his. “Alright, then you may gift this to him yourself. I am certainly not risking my head!” He reaches into his hanbok and pulls out a small, bound book.
You take the small volume in hand, reading the beautifully-written letters inked on the front. Beneath the Blossoming Trees, by Taehyun. One of the newest releases, and one you have yet to find time to purchase from the store with all that has been going on. Your lips split into a smile at the sight. Wait. But then—this means—
“You are Master Taehyun?”
He laughs again, this time at your wide, shocked eyes. “Taehyung, actually. But for a bit of protection, I publish with a different last syllable. After all, some of the yangban disapprove of my… let’s say scandalous works. I take it you read my novels?”
“Yes, I’ve read all of them!” You clutch the book he’s just given you like it’s gold, thinking you might just refuse to give it back if he asks for such. “This is… Ah, I have so many questions to ask you, Master Taehyung!”
He dots a rich scarlet dye onto the scene, filling in a robe. “And I am very happy to answer, uinyeo-nim. But only if you are willing to meet me at a teahouse and pose your questions over a plate of yakgwa.”
His eyes wane as he beams at you.
You must admit that he is a very attractive man, what with his easy manner and his enchanting eyes. And you have spent countless hours dreamily lost inside creations from his mind, so you already feel a sense of intimacy, of trust with him. If you were with him… If you were to fall in love with a man like this, wouldn’t your life be so much simpler? If you lived outside of the palace, perhaps close to Chun-ja and her family. Your friends. If you left this court and its stifling politics behind…
“Jeonha and his bride have reached the royal chambers!”
The announcement, spread by countless voices echoing the words, slices through your imagination. You shake yourself, pressing your fingertips into the book’s thin cover as you turn your head north.
From here, you can just barely make out the stopped palanquins, the silk-clad figures of the king and soon-to-be-queen as they are helped down from their seats. Seeing them like this, you think Master Taehyung was right. They look so natural together. A fated pair. Even if it could be you beside him, you wonder if even an eighth of these people would be celebrating as they do now if it were.
Before the regal pair, servants open the doors, bowing at the waist as they gesture for the two to enter. Though the king takes his steps slowly, he does not hestitate, nor does he stutter. The pressure on your chest is back, pressing down, down, down. Seong-min follows him inside, the gold accessories in her hairstyle so heavy and decadent they wobble with every move.
Finally, with a flourish, the doors are shut behind them.
No one is allowed to witness the rituals that come next, but you already know what the ceremony calls for. You know what they should do. It’s why the damned thing is part of the rites at all. They must attempt to produce an heir on this auspicious night. Yes… They will exchange bows. They will take a meal together. Then he will take her into his arms and press himself into another heat that isn’t yours and then, when it is over—he’ll spill inside her what he has never allowed you to have.
Tears build behind your eyes, threatening to flood but you won’t let them. Won’t give any of the spectators the satisfaction of watching you break in the light of day. You tense your muscles, tightening everything as you stare right at the wooden doors as if you could see past them if you try hard enough.
“Uinyeo-nim!” Master Taehyung’s voice is soft, but you can hear sudden alarm in his tone. “Are you alright?!”
“Wha—?” You follow his gaze down and only then do you realize you have unconsciously clenched the book so hard that the pages have sliced into your skin. Dark blood begins to trickle down your fingers towards your skirt as you hurriedly take the tome with your other hand, holding out your injured one to avoid stains. You can hardly feel the pain with how numb your entire body has become. But the blood proves you are still alive after all, that this is reality no matter how you wish otherwise.
“Let me help you!”
But you can only shake your head. “I’m sorry.” You cannot lead him on. Even on a day like this, you can only reject everything he offers. Even the slightest heat of his body this close to you feels wrong when your entire heart is currently behind those closed doors, promised to another woman for the rest of his life.
You still want to trust in the man you love. It’s all you have left.
“I’m so sorry,” you say again and again, as much to him as to your withering self.
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a/n: it finally happened. inevitably. but this story isn’t over yet, is it?
chat with me | support me on kofi ♡
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moon-write · 14 days ago
teasing kisses.
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pairing: ot7 x reader genre: fluff rating: pg word count: 1.1k tags/warnings: kisses lol
a/n: this has been sitting in my saves for a few weeks after I saw that gif of hobi and well, here we are lol enjoy~
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Slick about teasing you, playing it off as indifference or shyness
You’ll just be sitting there together, lazy not really doing anything, convo isn’t very invigorating
So he’ll start saying how cute you are or something, his hand pressed against his jaw
You know what he’s doing, you’ve learned his ways
But you play along, leaning in closer to him and resting on your elbows
He chuckles but keeps a straight face
“Are you going to kiss me or-“ he mutters
So he makes a face and starts leaning in, closes his eyes
Closer, closer, closer
When his lips are about to touch yours
He opens his eyes to find yours are closed, lips puckered
And he pulls away
You can’t help but drop your face in your hands, laughing in your embarrassment
“Jerk,” you tell him
He just waits with a pleased expression, waiting for you to kiss him
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He’d be the worst with this, constantly teasing you because in reality he wants to kiss you so badly
But it’s Tae, he won’t admit it
So say your sitting across from him, others sitting at a round table with you guys
Tae is giving you eyes (refer to gif lol)
You quirk an eyebrow, flattened stare but he can see the very slight upward curve on your lips
He knows he has you reeled in
So you text him
He smirks and looks back at you with darkened eyes, “I’m not.”
You roll your eyes and you two just stare at each other
It’s a competition
He sits back, confidence oozing from him but you can see him blushing a little bit
“Come here,” he mouths, eyes darting to see if anyone else caught that
You shake your head and hold back a chuckle, enjoying the tease
“Kiss me, already,” he caves, speaking across the table but it’s so loud you’re sure nobody caught that except you
You win.
Yoongi definitely heard it and rolls his eyes, stifling a laugh  
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He’s a crush, it’s mutual
You guys are alone, pretending the entire night that you haven’t been on a date
Jimin the flirt that he is has been eying you all night, looking you up and down
Licking his lips while trying not to make it obvious
But it kind of is and you’re milking the moment despite feeling a little bashful
He takes a drink of water because it’s the only thing keeping him away from you now
He wants to kiss you so bad
You scoot closer to him when he goes for another drink and kiss his cheek
Flustered Jimin
Water falls out of his mouth making you laugh
He looks back at you, wiping the water that escaped his lips
“You could just kiss me,” he says in a low voice
“I just did,” you tease
“Not like that,” he rolls his eyes
Many smirks
He chuckles, grabbing your jaw and bringing your lips to his
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He’s the most relaxed with teasing (maybe?) but you’ll know when he’s in the mood for kisses
You’re chatting, sitting together on the floor and doing a craft
He’s just watching thinking about how kissable your lips are
You notice this but keep talking
He knows you know
But you keep talking
He grabs your hand to bring you to him
You keep talking while the gap is slowly bridged
Namjoon soft smiles that melt you
His face is hovering over yours until you stop talking all together
“Well?” You whisper
Many goose-bump inducing kisses
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secretly dating
he’s just finished filming a performance
you are in charge of collecting their mics and sound packs
it’s just the two of you while the rest of the crew work around to ready for the next set, it’s loud and busy
hobi notices you won’t make eye contact with him and you can feel him smirking down at you while you he takes his in-ears out
“aren’t you going to tell me I did good?” he croons
your eyes flit up at his suggestive ones and you roll them, “you did, you looked good.”
quick brush against his chest when you take the sound pack from his hand
“you want to kiss me,” he teases further, noting the way your eyes keep darting back to his cherry-stained lips
“stop,” you bite back a smile
keeping your hands busy when you successfully unwind the wire from around him
a kittenish chuckle sits in his chest as he prides himself for flustering you while working
with a last look before he’s hauled off to change, he lifts his eyebrows at you, “kiss you later.”
when you turn around, face raging with heat and a melting smile, you’re met with an, ‘I heard that,’ look from Jimin who’s been waiting to give you his gear djdnjd
they all know now
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you’re not a publicly affectionate couple (probably)
But also I feel like yoongi doesn’t care if you kiss him in front of ppl (depending)
Whatever, he’ll tease you
But let’s say you’re guests at a wedding, dancing lazily on the dance floor, kind of away from everybody
Your arms wrapped around his waist, chin resting against his chest, looking up at him
“There’s people here,” he says knowingly, slitting his eyes
“Kiss me quick,” you lean up, touching your nose to his chin
He leans down but straightens his lips, playfully, squinting down at you, “why?”
Playful yoongi annoying you when all you want is a kiss
You whine his name until it makes him crack
He tightens his arms around you, closing the gap
Annoying yoongi kisses you
Probably making teasing remarks between kisses
People definitely see but you don’t care (for now)
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He’s playful when he teases kissing you
When you lean in, he leans back (showcasing his flexibility) because he’ll bend in half to avoid your kiss
Laughing when you start to whine
“You’re so mean,” you huff, pouting your lips
He’ll grab your shoulders before you can get away, “Okok,” he’ll breathe through a chuckle, “kiss me now.”
So you trust him and lean in but just when your lips are about to touch
He tosses his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing from how hard he’s laughing, his hands squeezing your shoulders
You smack his chest, peeling his hands from you, “you’re banned from my kisses forever.”
He catches your wrist when you start to stomp away, apologies slipping past his puffy lips, perfect teeth showing
You have to ignore how cute he looks though
But he’s stronger and successfully pulls you against him
“Sorry sorry,” he mutters against your lips
“You don’t deserve this,” you argue, kissing him back
He breathes a small laugh, “but you do.”
Jin, the slyest man
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alpacaparkaseok · a month ago
Golden Hour
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In which Yoongi is the boy you’ve friend-zoned for years and you finally realize that he’s all you want.
→ Yoongi x reader
→ super short word count lol, SFW, fluff, f2l
→ a/n: thank you guys for all the love and patience. I know I’ve been so slow updating recently :(( but you guys are seriously the best and so I wanted to give you a lil drabble to show you I’m still here and I appreciate you :)
It was golden hour when you realized you must have been in love with him for a long, long time. 
The sun was hitting the dust particles in your living room just right. You watched them over the spine of your book, caught up again in that endless debate with yourself: should you be disgusted over the sheer amount of dust floating in the air (there’s no doubt you’re inhaling them with every breath), or should you be amazed at the way they’re floating in mid-air?
You opened your mouth to bring your thoughts to the attention of your best friend, idol, and rapper extraordinaire Min Yoongi, when it hit you like a ton of bricks.
The sunlight glinted off of his silver hair (he just got it dyed, you’re absolutely in love with it), giving him an ethereal glow. He sat perfectly still at your wobbly kitchen table, sighing softly before turning the page of his book. 
Seated on your couch, you had a perfect view of the man. There was something about the way he appeared so at ease in your kitchen, home alone with you, that made your breath catch in your throat. 
Suddenly the only thought in your mind was how you wanted to see him sitting at your kitchen table for the rest of your life. Grumpy, content, disheveled or dressed to the nines; you didn’t care. 
You just wanted him. 
So when Yoongi feels your eyes on his and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours, you find yourself at a loss for words. 
He doesn’t say anything. Just watches you with a strangely solemn look as you get up from the couch and make your way over to the table. Your book hangs loosely from your fingers as you lay it across from him and quietly pull out a chair. 
Yoongi’s eyes never leave yours as you seat yourself across from him. Sunlight slashes across your line of sight, dousing him in an angelic glow. 
Cheeks heating, you wonder for a moment if he can see right through you. Perhaps if you ignore the flutter in your chest, it’ll go away.
A few agonizing seconds pass before Yoongi’s speak, soft and low. 
“Took you long enough.”
Glancing up at him, you see the way his eyes sparkle at you. In that moment, you both know he’s referring to so much more than your moving to sit closer to him. 
Biting down a smile, you bury your nose in your book even as a small thrill zips through your body at the feel of Yoongi nudging your foot with his own. 
“Don’t patronize me, Min.”
He snorts softly before returning to his book. “I wouldn’t dream of it, jagiya.”
You stare holes into your book, softly mouthing the pet name at the inked pages with a silly smile. 
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