#SUGA fanfiction

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about boyfriend!yoongi who in a way, found his match with you.

for decades, his oldest friends always teased him for being the textbook definition of ‘nonchalant’, labeling him as a stoic man who loved to pretend that he didn’t care about anything—even though in reality, there were always a few tells that made it obvious that he did.

he was the type of guy who made it seem like he didn’t care if you forgot about his birthday, but would send a joke afterwards saying that he was disappointed that you didn’t remember.

or the type who acted like it didn’t matter to him if the meal he worked hard on cooking tasted delicious for your taste buds, only to grin really wide as soon as you complimented him and uttered a string of praises afterwards.

it was an endearing quality of yoongi’s, a rather fascinating trait that also became the butt of the joke at times whenever the topic was his love life and his bad luck when it came to relationships.

“you can come off as emotionally unavailable,” hoseok told him over beer once. “ladies don’t like that. they want men who can tell them how special they are.”

“isn’t it enough that i show it?” yoongi asked, having just been dumped by the girl he was dating. “i mean, i drive her to work every single day. i fetch her from work whenever i can too. i buy her stuff if it’s necessary, like shampoo or paper towels.”

hoseok stared at him. “paper towels?”

“yeah.”

“wow. i take it all back. you are the most romantic man on the planet.”

yoongi rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. “she mentioned she was running out of them so i bought more for her.”

“are you her dad or something?”

“i heard ladies like a provider.”

“yes, but not in that sense. it’s more like… you get the bill whenever you’re having lunch or dinner at a restaurant, or buying her a bag she’s been eyeing, or paying for her nails when she gets them done. doing all of that without not being asked is the key aspect of it, really.”

“how do you know this stuff?”

hoseok shrugged. “i have an older sister,” he says. “also, i’m engaged to my girlfriend of 6 years. being in a relationship that long ought to teach you a lot.”

thanks to that conversation, yoongi began understanding what it really meant to be a great and affectionate boyfriend without sacrificing his rather reserved personality. he knew what the right gestures to do, what the right things to say, what the right gifts to buy—and he did all of that with utmost sincerity, genuinely wanting to be a better partner for his current girlfriend, which also happened to be you.

the funny thing, though?

you couldn’t seem to recognize the nice boyfriend things yoongi was doing and how much he improved compared to his last relationship.

you were just… independent, he thought. a strong woman who didn’t like to be coddled and didn’t like asking help from anyone regardless of how much you may be already struggling. he had a realization that you were naturally like this because of the stories you used to tell him that made him understand that you just weren’t used to relying on others, a trait that he didn’t have an issue with and sometimes even admired.

however, he couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t sometimes frustrating as well.

for example, just last week, the both of you had a semi-big fight because of how you constantly insisted on changing the broken lightbulb in your bedroom yourself even though yoongi was already telling you that he could do it instead. in the end, since you were stubborn as hell, you still tried changing it on your own but had a very minor injury due to falling off the stool you were standing on for extra height.

yoongi was furious when he found out, and you ultimately became furious because it seemed like he was being unfair to you, the negative energy impacting your mood and rationality that you didn’t get how he was more mad on the fact that you let your pride get to you than just asking for his damn help for the freaking lightbulb.

when the both of you calmed down and said your apologies, yoongi took your hands and looked directly in your eyes. “babe, you have to start depending on me,” he said.

the straightforwardness caught you off guard. “huh?”

“i mean…” you felt him squeeze your fingers softly, “i understand that you’re used to doing things all on your own… how you don’t like being treated like some baby… but that shouldn’t be the case with me, okay? i’m here to take care of you, to always help you with whatever you need.”

you opened your mouth, about to say something he knew was not going to align with his point, so he took the liberty to cut you off.

“i’m serious. you know what i’m talking about. let me take care of you, ____.”

“but—” you couldn’t continue with your sentence, a wave of emotions suddenly flooding you that made your throat tighten and voice quiver as you began speaking again— “how? i… i don’t—i just… you don’t need to. i don’t want to be a burden.”

yoongi gave you a look, a mixture of fondness and disbelief. “you? a burden?”

“yeah. you don’t need to take care of me.”

“i’m well aware that you’re a grown woman who doesn’t need taking care of.” he joked. “but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to do it. that’s why if i were you, i would just start depending on my poor boyfriend and learn how to be comfortable in being taken care of because it’s definitely how things are going to be now that he’s here.”

you snorted at the use of third person. “fine,” you sniffled, “okay, i’ll try to be better at asking for help next time.”

he sighed in relief, releasing your hands to instead engulf you in a tight embrace. “thank you, baby. i appreciate it a lot.”

****

the first time you willingly asked yoongi for a favor after that talk—regardless of how small and trivial it was—it still affected him big time.

“can you help me assemble the drawer i bought?” you asked him over dinner, ever so casual and nonchalant.

he almost dropped the chopsticks he was holding. “what?”

“i said, can you—”

“no, i heard that perfectly well. i’m just surprised at what i’m hearing.”

your lips twitched while your face visibly burned. “don’t start teasing me or else—”

“i’m not.” he laughed, a little too loudly than usual, before reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles. “i’m not, i swear. i’m just happy.”

“you’re happy because i’m asking for help?”

“i’m happy because you’re letting me take care of you,” he corrected. “it’s a bit overdue in my opinion but who am i to complain?”

you playfully shoved his hand away, which made yoongi laugh harder and lean towards you to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, letting you know that your simple effort of trying to let him in meant so much more than words could ever say.

note. this blurb is unedited and has been in my drafts since december because it's always yoongi missing hours!!!!! but for real though, i wish yoongi is doing great and is always surrounded by good people who can give him the support he needs + remind him how loved he is :(

[glossdebut]

study break | MYG

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t. As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

✧ TAGS: college au, smut, fluff

✧ WARNINGS: oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, slight overstimulation

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so this is NOT price of fame chapter two, nor is it the seokjin fic that i’ve been teasing for weeks. this is instead a secret third thing, inspired by my own post that has been living rent free in my brain for the past couple of days. i promise POF2 and the seokjin fic are both coming, but i had to get this out before i lost my damn mind. not beta read, so feel free to inform me of any mistakes i missed. P.S. i know the header isn’t debut yoongi, don’t fucking @ me about it!! i had this photo on hand ):

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.2k words

Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t.

As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

Things were so much easier when you—wrongfully—assumed he was an asshole. At least then, the arrangement was clear: you met him in the library, tried not to get annoyed at what a know-it-all he seemed to be for an hour, and then went back to your dorm with a slightly easier method of memorizing the circle of fifths under your belt. It went on like that for weeks. Quick and effective, mostly painless.

But then, when awkward small talk developed into genuine interest, you got to know him.

You learned that the reason he never takes notes in class is because he doesn’t have to. He taught himself all of the basics of music theory years ago, could’ve tested out and moved on to a more advanced class, but he wanted an easy A in his course load. You learned that he’s a classical piano major. He likes it just fine, but it’s really a means to an end. You learned that he writes his own raps, performs them at underground shows with a group of friends some weekends, that that’s what he really wants to do. You learned that he’s not an asshole and he’s just shy, that he’s been working up the courage to ask you out all semester.

You learned even more about him on your first date.

Such as: he’s the self-proclaimed master of grilling meat, and he’ll load up your plate for you before he even thinks of feeding himself. He may act like he’s not interested in going to the noraebang, but with just the slightest bit of insistence from you he’ll fold like a piece of paper. He thinks it’s cute when you snatch his snapback right off of his head and put it on your own. Even cuter when you fumble through a verse of Epik High’s ‘Love Love Love,’ squealing happily when he joins in. 

And: he kisses like he’s got something to prove. Knows all the right ways to use his tongue. Makes a low noise in the back of his throat when you do something he likes. Isn’t the slightest bit shy about pulling you into his lap, nor about slipping his hand into your panties right there, Epik High forgotten in favor of making you cum around his skilled fingers. 

So. Yeah.

Yoongi is no longer an effective tutor, because instead he is a fucking distraction.

You’re supposed to be studying. You had been studying, both of you putting up a valiant effort for a full hour and a half. But just as you’d gotten a firm grasp on the seven musical modes—Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, Locrian—-Yoongi was whining, insisting on taking a break. You tried to put up a fight, but you’re especially weak when Yoongi gets all sulky, soft pink lips pulled into a pout.

Notecards tossed aside, your fifteen minute study break quickly devolves into half an hour of making out on Yoongi’s bed. As soft music filters into his dorm room from his laptop, you lose track of time with his tongue sliding against yours, the occasional sting of his teeth on your bottom lip because he knows you like it. When you feel his erection pressed against your hip it quickly becomes very clear that you’re both done studying for the time being.

The way Yoongi kisses you never fails to make you crazy. His lips on yours are gentle but commanding at the same time, his hands in your hair holding your head exactly where he wants it as he licks into your mouth like he owns it. When he pulls away, you barely have a chance to catch your breath before he’s trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Your hips rock up against his, desperate for friction. 

“Baby,” Yoongi murmurs against your skin. His hands slide down from your hair to gently tug at the waistband of your jeans, an index finger circling teasingly around the button. “Wanna eat you out. You want that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, gasping when he nips at the underside of your jaw. Your voice is high, needy, foreign to your own ears. He’s good at that—at pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t know you could make.

He wastes no time in peeling your jeans down your legs, tossing them off the bed and out of his way. Yoongi likes to have as much space as possible when he eats you out, you’ve learned. He likes to take his time, spread you out as much as he can on his shitty dorm-provided twin size mattress. Just because he can make you cum in record time—and he can—doesn’t mean he likes to. Not when he’d much rather drag it out, savor you in every imaginable way until you can’t take it anymore. 

You know you’re in for it when he doesn’t take your panties off right away. Instead, when he settles between your thighs, all he does is look for a moment, his gaze laser-focused on the growing wetness seeping through the cotton. 

It lasts long enough that you start to squirm, his eyes flicking up to meet yours at the sudden movement.

“A-are you…?” you start, but you trail off, suddenly feeling way too fucking shy for something you’ve done with him more times than you can count at this point. 

“Yeah,” he hums, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “Yeah, I’m getting to it, sweetness. I just wanted to look at you for a second. Is that okay?”

You shiver, swallowing thickly as you nod.

“You sure?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, so close to where you want him. “You don’t have anywhere better to be?”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” you complain, sitting up for a moment to flick him on the forehead.

“Yah, so disrespectful,” he admonishes with a bite right where he’d just kissed. “I’m just playing. I know you don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I don’t,” you agree, suspicious. He’s up to something.

“No, you don’t,” Yoongi hums knowingly, holding your gaze as he presses a kiss right to your clit. It makes your breath hitch, even with your panties subduing the feeling. “Because you love the way I eat this pussy, don’t you, baby?”

The answer is yes, of course. Yoongi always makes you feel so good no matter what he’s doing, but eating you out is definitely where he excels. But something about how cocky he’s being makes something stir inside of you—-makes you feel a little bold, a little mean. 

“When you actually get around to it, yeah.”

Yoongi chuckles darkly, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hip. When he lifts his head his eyes are all pupil. “It’s like that, huh?” he asks, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Maybe,” you say, goading.

He clicks his tongue, dipping down to lick a broad stripe over your pussy without any warning. When he reaches your clothed clit, he wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, tearing a surprised moan from you.

“F-fuck!” Your fingers tangle in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, but the overwhelming pleasure is gone as quickly as it came.

“Such a brat,” Yoongi mumbles, sinking his teeth into the softness of your inner thigh again, harder this time. “Just wanted to take my time, treat you nice. But if you want it like this, fine.”

Mercifully, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He roughly drags them down your legs until they’re thrown onto the floor, out of sight just like your jeans.

You gasp when his fingers instantly slide over your slippery cunt, making you gasp. “You get this wet just from pissing me off?” he scoffs, and you shake your head. 

“N-no,” you whimper.

“No?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head at you with a smirk. You feel like you’re going to die when his fingers find your clit, rubbing in punishing little circles. “Tell me what gets you this wet, then, baby.”

“You!” you moan. It feels embarrassingly fast, but you’re close. You’re gonna cum before he even gets his mouth on you properly. Maybe that’s his goal. “You, fuck, Yoongi.”

“That’s right,” he purrs. “You gonna cum already, pretty girl? Before I even get to taste you?”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Motherfucker. 

You wouldn’t be able to protest even if you wanted to, your brain already succumbing to the pleasant buzz of your impending orgasm. All you can do is squirm and rock up against Yoongi’s fingertips, completely at his mercy.

“That’s okay,” Yoongi continues, unbothered as you shake and moan in front of him. “I know you can give me another one. Go ahead, sweetness. Cum for me.”

Your release tears through you, sudden and intense and all-consuming. You’re sure there are words coming out of your mouth, but between the heat spreading through your body and the static buzzing in your ears, you honestly have no idea what they could be. Yoongi’s fingers keep rubbing at your abused clit until you’re trembling, gasping for breath between moans.

“Filthy girl,” he hums. Whatever you said must’ve been good, because he sounds almost proud of you as he runs his hands over your thighs. “You gonna let me take my time now?”

“Yes,” you gasp, still reeling from your orgasm. Yoongi taking his time is exactly what you need right now, or else you’ll go into complete overdrive. Absently, you think that was his plan all along, but that thought melts away as soon as Yoongi dips down and delves his tongue into your cunt, slow and thorough. 

Your brain? Empty. Brain so fucking empty.

“Shit,” he groans against you, his voice so low and gravelly you can feel the vibration of his words against your pussy. “You always taste so fucking good after you cum for me.”

You thread your fingers through his hair again, moaning long and low as he spreads you apart with his thumbs and dives back in. His nose nudges just slightly against your clit as he licks into you, the barely-there contact making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Yoongiiii,” you moan, earning an appreciative moan from him as he dips his tongue into your entrance.

Your first orgasm took you by surprise, but you can tell already that this one is going to be a slow burn, tendrils of heat that never really got a chance to fade spreading through your body, adagio.

As promised, Yoongi takes his sweet time. He sets an agonizing rhythm: licking into you, dragging his tongue up your pussy, gently sucking your clit into his mouth, over and over again until you’re practically a puddle on his mattress.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” you mewl, your thighs shaking around his head. You’d blush at the sounds he’s producing between your legs, slurping and sucking at you, if you weren’t so fucked out. Instead, all it does is turn you on even more, make you even wetter for him. 

Yoongi pulls back, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I know, baby,” he murmurs soothingly. “You ready to cum again?”

Wordlessly, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut. Two fingers tease at your entrance, getting nice and wet before Yoongi slides them in, and just like that, you’re ready to burst.

“Nnngh—fuck, ‘m so fucking close,” you slur, grasping at his hair as he pumps his fingers into you.

“Give it to me,” he says, before sucking your clit into his mouth again and making stars burst behind your eyelids.

His fingers curl just right, and then you’re moaning brokenly, bucking up against his fingers and mouth as you cum again.

It feels like it lasts forever. Yoongi moans around your clit as you clench around his fingers, squeezing tight tight tight as heat crashes over you in waves. You feel his fingers withdraw, and then his tongue is fucking into you again, licking every last drop he’s earned from you.

He only breaks away when you’re pushing at his head, overstimulated and spent.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he rumbles, climbing up the bed so he’s on top of you, bracing himself on his elbows. He’s one to talk. He always looks so good like this—swollen lips and dark eyes, the bottom half of his face slick from eating you out so fucking well. “You can just cum and cum for me, can’t you?”

“You are insane,” you breathe, grasping at the strings of his sweatshirt to pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. 

Yoongi chuckles, pulling away just to press his forehead against yours. “You like it,” he says.

“I like you,” you correct, closing your eyes. “Even though I’m going to fail my final because of you.”

That earns a real laugh from Yoongi, his nose scrunching. “You’re not gonna fail.”

“I am,” you say, nodding sagely. “But it’ll be worth it.”

“That so?” He presses another kiss to your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Besides, I’ll just find a better tutor next semester when I have to retake.”

That earns you a sharp jab of Yoongi’s fingers to your side, but he’s got one of those gummy smiles on his face as you squeal under him, so no harm done.

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[dancinglikebutterflywings]

2AM Happy Birthday | Suga

🖤 Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader 🖤 Requested by: No one. This is a pure indulgent fic to celebrate my birthday (26th Dec) 🖤 Synopsis: Yoongi finds out its Y/N's birthday and refuses to let her spend it alone, even at 2AM. 🖤 Word Count: 832 🖤 Warnings: mentions that reader isn't from South Korea. This is three days late. I'm sorry I got busy. 🖤 Taglist: Open. Taglist Sign-Up Here

Yoongi Masterlist | BTS Masterlist | Requesting Guidelines

Y/N was lost in her laptop, completely unaware of how late it is, until a knock at the door jolts her back to reality and away from the glow of the screen. Glancing at the clock on her living room wall, she realized it was nearly 2 AM, leaving her puzzled about who could be visiting at this hour. Rising from her seat, she stretches her arms overhead, feeling the stiffness in her muscles from hours of sitting. She walks over to the door, unlocks it, the click echoing in the quietness, and swings it open to reveal Yoongi, her neighbour and friend, waiting outside.  

“I had a feeling you would still be awake,” he grins, his expression a mix of mischief and warmth.  

The sight of him, with his tousled hair and casual attire, brings a smile to Y/N's face despite the late hour. She rolls her eyes playfully, feigning annoyance, but the corners of her mouth betray her as she welcomes him inside her apartment. “Seriously, Yoongi? At this hour?” she teases, closing the door.  

He shrugs, his nonchalant demeanour only adding to her amusement. “I could say the same about you, Night Owl,” he shoots back, kicking his shoes off abd follows her into the living room, glancing at the scattered papers and empty mug on the coffee table, her laptop sitting open on the couch. “Looks like you’ve been busy. Are you really working on Christmas? Or should I say your birthday since it’s 2 AM?” 

Her cheeks heat up. “I didn’t plan on it, but I had nothing else to do,” she admitted. She hadn't been able to fly home for Christmas and her birthday which just so happened to be the day after. She'd spent a few hours with some friends who hadn't been able to go home either, earlier in the day. For her birthday, she'd planned to spend it alone.  “Honestly, I was just about to finish up and go to bed.”  

“Liar,” he teased, plopping down on the couch, fully aware of her habits. "You work as much as I do."  

"What are you doing here, Yoongi?" she asked, picking up her laptop and closing it.  

"I was making sure you weren't working," he tells her. "And I'm not going to let you spend your birthday alone." He stands back up from the couch 

Y/N watches as he pulls out a small box from his pocket, the corners wrapped in festive paper adorned with snowflakes. “What’s this?” she asks, her curiosity piqued.  

“Just a little something for your birthday,” he says, a hint of shyness creeping into his voice. “I know it’s not much, but I thought you might like it.”  

Her heart skips a beat as she takes the box from him, feeling the weight of it in her hands. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Yoongi,” she tells him, her voice barely above a whisper.  

“Just open it,” he urges, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.  

She tears off the wrapping, unveiling a box. As she lifts the lid, she discovers a necklace featuring a pendant. Engraved on it is a map of her hometown. She fights back tears, recalling their conversation from a month ago about her homesickness and inability to return home. “Thank you, Yoongi. This means the world to me,” she responds, her voice filled with emotion. 

He smiles, a soft smile that reaches his eyes, and for a moment, the world outside fades away as he pulls her into his arms. “I wanted you to have a piece of home with you,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “I know how much you miss home, and I thought this might help.”  

“Thank you, really,” she says again, her voice thick with emotion. “This is the best birthday gift I could have ever asked for.”  

He shrugs, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I just wanted to make sure you felt special today. You deserve it.”  

“You always know how to make me feel special,” she replies, pulling back enough to look up at him and can’t help but smile, her heart swelling with affection for the man standing before her.  

The air between them thickens with unspoken feelings. She can feel the warmth radiating from him, the way his eyes search hers, as if he’s trying to read her thoughts.  

“Yoongi,” she breathes, her heart pounding in her chest 

"Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice low as his eyes look between her eyes and lips.  

She nods, unable to form words. In that moment, he leans in, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle, tentative kiss. It’s soft and sweet, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that have been building between them.  

The kiss ends when Yoongi pulls away, a soft smile on his lips. "Happy birthday," he tells her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

"Happy it is indeed," she says returning his smile.

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[prodagustd]

the road not taken | myg series masterlist

Summary: To have the job you’ve always wanted and the life you’ve always dreamt of you had to break a few hearts, including your own. Four years later after running away from your home, your family and friends, you realized that maybe you fucked up; you’ve been a bad daughter, a bad sister and a bad friend. Getting your shit together seemed difficult enough, you didn’t expect that it included facing the first man who ever broke your heart: your brother’s best friend.

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!reader

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: [see warnings in each part] slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut, sexual tension, lots of flashbacks, english is not my first language btw.

updated 28 november 2024.

STATE: ON GOING

1. back home

2. get up and fall again

3. four seconds

4. a wish

5. new year’s eve

6. all is fair in love and war

→ extras

✧ playlist ✧ teaser + moodboard

Do not respost, rewrite or translate any of my works. Some of these works are explicit, if you are a minor please do not interact or read my stories.

© prodagustd 2023-2024

[bluelavendre]

Title: "Gummy Smile and Forever After"

!DISCLAIMER!

Shortfic😔

Cute suga

Don't get me wrong I love this man!!

I wrote this years ago btw💜💜

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: Suga (Min Yoongi) x reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff

It was late at night in BTS’s dorm, and the members were scattered around the living room. Jungkook was engrossed in a video game, Jin was flipping through a recipe book, and Taehyung was scrolling through his phone. But Yoongi? Yoongi sat in the corner of the couch, his laptop perched on his knees. His headphones were plugged in, and a faint smile tugged at his lips as he watched a performance for what had to be the fiftieth time.

The screen glowed with the sight of you—Y/N, the internationally acclaimed idol whose every move on stage sent waves through the industry. Tonight’s video was of your recent comeback stage, a performance filled with power and grace. Yoongi couldn’t help but admire the way you commanded the crowd, how every note you sang seemed to come straight from your soul.

“Hyung, seriously?” Jungkook said, craning his neck to peek at the screen. “That’s the fourth time this week.”

Yoongi hastily slammed his laptop shut, the tips of his ears turning red. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act coy,” Jin chimed in, abandoning his book to join the fun. “You’ve been obsessing over her ever since her debut. Just admit you’re her biggest fan.”

The others joined in, laughing and poking fun at Yoongi. Even Namjoon, who usually kept to himself, smirked. “Hyung, maybe you should just shoot your shot. You’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

Yoongi scoffed, waving them off, but the blush on his cheeks deepened.

Months later, BTS attended the Grammy Awards, where they were up for multiple nominations. The group was in high spirits as they walked the red carpet and faced a flurry of interviews. One interviewer leaned in with a mischievous grin.

“So, Yoongi-ssi,” she began, “the fans have noticed you’ve been watching a certain someone’s videos a lot lately. Care to share who your current favorite artist is?”

The members exchanged glances, grinning like hyenas. Taehyung nudged Yoongi with his elbow, and Jungkook let out an exaggerated cough.

“Uh…” Yoongi hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I think Y/N is incredibly talented. She works really hard, and it shows in everything she does.”

The interviewer’s eyes lit up. “Oh, really? Any chance we’ll see a collaboration in the future?”

Yoongi chuckled nervously. “Maybe. If she’s interested.”

Backstage, the teasing began immediately. “You practically confessed on live television!” Jimin exclaimed, clutching his sides.

“I didn’t confess,” Yoongi grumbled, though the small smile on his face said otherwise.

The first time you met was during a music show. BTS and your group had been scheduled to perform, and the backstage area buzzed with activity. Yoongi was usually the calmest member in any situation, but when you walked into the green room, he froze.

“Hyung, don’t just sit there,” Jungkook whispered, nudging him forward.

You approached with a warm smile, bowing politely. “Annyeonghaseyo, Min Yoongi-ssi. It’s an honor to meet you. I’m a big fan of your work.”

Yoongi stood up, bowing deeply. “Annyeonghaseyo, Y/N-ssi. The honor’s mine. I really admire what you do.”

The other members watched from the sidelines, trying not to burst out laughing at how uncharacteristically shy Yoongi was being.

“You should’ve seen his face when he saw your performance,” Jin added cheekily. “He couldn’t stop smiling.”

“Hyung!” Yoongi hissed, glaring at Jin, but you only laughed, your eyes sparkling.

During an award show later that year, you performed your latest hit, and Yoongi was in the audience. As always, his gaze was glued to the stage, his gummy smile making a rare and endearing appearance. The camera panned to him at just the right moment, and fans went wild when the clip surfaced online.

The MC couldn’t resist bringing it up later. “Yoongi-ssi, you seemed to enjoy Y/N’s performance. Care to share your thoughts?”

Yoongi’s face turned red as the audience roared with laughter. “She’s… very talented,” he managed, his voice barely audible over the teasing remarks from his members.

Years passed, and BTS continued to dominate the global music scene. But amidst their packed schedules, Yoongi and Y/N’s paths crossed more and more frequently. What started as admiration blossomed into friendship, and eventually, something more.

The world erupted in excitement when news broke that the two of you were dating. Fans were overjoyed, and your relationship quickly became one of the most talked-about topics in the industry. But despite the attention, you and Yoongi kept things private, cherishing the moments you could spend together away from the cameras.

One quiet evening, years after your relationship began, Yoongi made an announcement during a live broadcast. The BTS members sat around him, their expressions a mix of excitement and pride.

“I think it’s time we share some personal news,” Yoongi said, his voice steady but soft. “I’m married. And yes, it’s Y/N.”

The chat exploded with messages of congratulations as Yoongi held up a photo of the two of you on your wedding day. “We’ve been married for a while now, actually. And we also have a family.”

Jungkook leaned into the frame, grinning. “And he’s the best dad ever.”

Yoongi smiled, his gummy grin as radiant as ever. “I still can’t believe I get to spend my life with her. She’s everything I ever dreamed of and more.”

As the live broadcast ended, fans around the world celebrated the love story they’d all watched unfold. And for Yoongi, every day with you was another reason to smile—the kind of smile that only you could bring out.

The End

[moochii-daisies]

- 18+, Minors DNI

Summary: The whole house is kickin' a nasty habit, but some are struggling more than others. After being "banned" for their antics and left with a bag of lollipops, MC and Yoongi have ample time to declare the winner of their "biggest menace" challenge.

Length: 4.3k words

Warnings-Content Contains: 18+, Cussing, wolf-biting, smoking mention, tbh MC and Yoongi are switch-y dramatic gremlins and i'm not sorry (i'm sorry), spit mention? (that's new to me), idk yoongi has a lollipop, good luck xoxo

Sidenotes: holy shit this was so fun to write!! i had jolly good fun (then got possessed) ok i hope you enjoy if you read it and thank you if you do <3 also, thank you so much @jung-koook for the kindness + permission + inspiration w this incredible gif - it's the entire reason i wrote the scene w mc + jk + yoongi haha (p.s. appreciate gif makers pls and i highly recommend checkin' out their page if you haven't already)

JAF Notes: "Egg" is a nickname for "Golden Egg" (Jin calls JK and MC this), "Nin" is one of Jin's nicknames ("Ninnie" is another that Yoongi hates) You wanna read Tae's "Rain and Mistletoe" song?

Up next: Tae, "The Knife Night" --> Coming soon.

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     The look on Yoongi's face had - really - started to piss me off. 

He looked -

     Pleased as punch.

     Swell, even.

     Just peachy fuckin' keen.

As if we were out there together by choice.

     I squinted at him with a scrupulous stare.

     "Did you get to choose what flavor? After bein' sucha good boy?" He rolled his eyes to look at me,  unimpressed with my attempt to taunt him.

     Didn't even lift his head up to do it either. Just raised both eyebrows with a face that said, "c'mon, you could do better".

     Goddammit.

I was already pissy. Would it have hurt? To show some solidarity? We were in this as a team...in a way.

     Instead of trying with words, I bounced a heel off the wooden floor of the front porch. Making a repeated, loud, and annoying, 'thunk'.

Yoongi was leaned back against the cushions - legs spread, arms crossed - and completely ignoring me.

Thunk.

Thunk.

.......

THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK THUNK  THUNK -

     Twitch.

As Yoongi tried not to smile, the paper-white stick poking out of his closed lips wiggled.

     I was trying to disintegrate an identical stick with just my grip strength.

     The silence after my thunking was brief. Broken by a small 'pop', as Yoongi pulled a bright blue lollipop out of his mouth. He twirled it around in front of my face and "Round 1 Winner: Yoongi" gleamed in his smile before it became a side-smirk.

    

     I went with an expression that I hoped said: "Rage has morphed me into a weapon.".

     But we knew each other way too well. If I could go more than two words without saying some form of "fuck"- I wasn't Major Mad and if I wasn't on the verge of tears (or totally shut down) then it wasn't Super Serious. Which meant that the look I gave just made him chuckle, and look away.

     He gazed off into the distance like he was thinking of something very deep. Like, how to push every single button I had - for example. I could envision the thought bubble above his head so clearly it almost felt real.

     Yoongi - Rascal Mode (Level 3): It's Fun to be Dramatic and Annoying.

One big sigh.

     Then he turned to me looking perplexed, or, like he did when he cut onions without any eye protection.

     "Yeeeeeeeeeee-up."

Yoongi drew out the e and popped the p as loud as he could - completely deadpan. The sound ricocheted around in my brain and I felt a calmness settle over me.

     Personal Rascal Mode (Level 4): In the Zen Garden. Incapable of being disturbed.

     All right Min Yoongi, two can play at that game.

     I locked eyes with him, and gathered all the moisture in my mouth before slurping on my own lollipop. He wasn't bothered by mouth noises too badly, in general, but wet mouth sounds (outside of specific contexts) bothered him Immensely.

     Because, and I quote, "It's too wet.".

It was the perfect plan.

      However, it didn't occur to me at the time that:

- drooling and

- going to town on a lollipop,

could be taken as anything else but an annoyance.

     Trying not to get too proud of myself, I snuck a glimpse at Yoongi expecting to see disgust, annoyance, anger or even boredom. But I was met with shock, and a shy smile that was terrible at hiding instead. Premature pride was melted down into green-apple flavored confusion.

     Yoongi did look impressed though, at least for a second, until he turned to lightly tap his knuckles against the window behind us.

     They were muffled, but five (overlapping) voices started up in response to the sound.

   The laugh under Yoongi's breath came to an abrupt halt as I moved to wipe my mouth dry. My hand was caught by the wrist, there was the smallest tap of hard candy against teeth, and then Yoongi's thumb was gliding across my bottom lip.

     The fingers he had curled under my chin kept me steady.

     Back and forth, two times each way.

Smooth, sweet and still too wet to be sticky.

     Hypnotizing.

The gaze aimed at my lips was one bead of honey, suspended on the edge and close enough to taste.

     With the pad of his thumb, he wiped off what was left and pressed it to his mouth. Slightly parted lips and the dart of a pink tongue kissed the rest away. Two onyx stones sparkled, watching me watch him. Daring me to take a step further.

     I forgot why we were out there at all.

     "Told you! I. Told you. I told. You so." Jimin gloated out the front door as the five others joined us.

     "We're cutting back or quitting, as a HOUSEHOLD you two! This is TEARING US APART!" Tae was unusually (but understandably) short-tempered. The crazy straw in his mouth - that replaced his smoking habit-  had a toothpick umbrella taped to the end of it. His "Rain Instead of Mistletoe" (aka "The Umbrella Song") came to mind at the sight of it and I almost started to sing it to him. But Jimin Despised the umbrella phase with an almost maniacal passion.

     I can't say I didn't consider it though.

     Okay. So, yeah- as a household, we decided to collectively cut back or quit smoking entirely. And no, we didn't think at all about what that would actually be like.

     Yoongi, Jungkook and Namjoon had actually asked for a house meeting and arrived as a unit (held together through linked arms) about a week after it was brought up. In a clearly rehearsed speech, they informed us that they would only be cutting back. Because they could make their own decisions. And that they would not be taking questions.

     I knew what Tae was talking about (he didn't like the division among us), but I looked at Jimin - confused. His baby cotton-candy pink hair was swept back from his forehead and both eyebrows skyrocketed to make his eyes as wide as possible in response.

     "I told them. That you'd do something sexual. Unknowingly. And that it'd be the only way to get you to try the lollipop method." He spoke in staccato phrases.

Oops.

     Shiny, bright green glistened in my hand. Well, I felt less resistant to it now.

     Jimin didn't care about my response. Instead - a hand crinkled into his bag of coping candy and he sank into the couch between Yoongi and I. His favorites were the ones shaped like bracelets and necklaces. He'd even stained his forehead pink, blue and green once from trying to wear one like a crown which, coincidentally, inspired the change in hair color. After finding the last four (and with an alarming speed), he ripped the plastic off of one with his teeth and kept it in his mouth while sliding it onto a wrist.

     It dangled from the corner of his lips as he spoke. "I can't even enjoy my victory properly though, and do you know why? It's cause you two got GROUNDED at your big age. Unbelieva- okay no, totally believable actually. We need 47 bags of this, I'ma go to the store.".

     Tae swatted at me with the sleeves of his giant cardigan and grumbled about my being "banished to the outside world". Turning a nose up at my attempted response, he stomped after Jimin the entire way to the car.

     Okay look, we weren't really grounded or banished. Per se.

     But Yoongi and I were handling it the worst.

     We found him passed out multiple times on the front porch, trying to sneak them late at night (+3 burn holes in couch). And he was changing clothes so much to hide the smell that he started buying more with, "all the money he was saving from cutting back". When he didn't sneak any, he'd get so surly that we could feel the dark cloud that surrounded him, anywhere he went.

     And although Jungkook's competitiveness was helping him stay stronger than most of us, generally, he could Not say no if I asked him. And I was not strong enough, Not to ask him.

     After everyone realized JK's weakness, I started squatting down behind whichever car of ours was parked out on the street. Sneaking a couple puffs at the random times I could. It worked until Jin caught me, and snatched the last one I had out of my hands.

     I glowered at him as he ripped the paper, dumping the tobacco into his pipe.

     "The hypocrisy is truly astounding." I was dry with my comment, and then huffy as he flicked his lighter. A little too huffy.

     Jin lifted one arm so his pipe was up in the air above us, and the smoke lifted with it. In order to stop me from getting too close he simply...- he just covered my whole damn face with his hand.

     "Sorry Egg. It doesn't count in a pipe." Was the response he went with, and it had us bickering the entire way back to the house.

     A few days after that incident, Yoongi convinced Jin to go to a casino (so they could drink and smoke, "in a natural environment") and they did Not come home winners that evening. A final straw of sorts.

     It was that same night that Yoongs and I were "banished" to the porch at home (because we would argue so much) and "grounded" to sleeping on the living room couch. I wasn't allowed to be alone with Jungkook, and Yoongi wasn't allowed to be alone period (if we weren't at work).

    

     We were going into the second week of this arrangement at this point.

     With Jimin and Tae's absence, Jungkook flicked his lip rings with his tongue and got antsy. The second time we glanced at each other, almost broke us both. We'd spent years sleeping together most nights and the smidge of distance was excruciating. And we almost got bold enough to go for it, but Hobi pinched him on the back of the arm and gave a stern waggle of his finger at me - tugging JK out of sight. Namjoon looked a bit confused at being the last one left. He didn't say anything as he looked around in a stoned daze. Just gave us a small wave and dimpled smile, then stepped back inside.

     "Your puppy's upset," Yoongi snorted once we were alone, "Wait fuck that, hang on, why were you so against the lollipop method anyways?".

     The question hung in the air while I stared at my hands. Because in truth, I wasn't against it at all. My compulsive habit of biting at the skin around my fingers just replaced smoking. Like going back to a default setting. It happened every time I (tried to) quit.

      "Didja know they call it wolf biting sometimes because wolves will bite themselves when they're frustrated?" I hadn't responded to Yoongi out-loud and realized he was talking to my hands. Reflexively scrunching them underneath my thighs as he spoke.

     "Maybe wolves are obsessive-compulsive too." Got a smile and exhaled laugh out of him.

     "Do they hurt?" Got a grimace out of me.

     I swirled my tongue and covered it with sour apple.

     "Sure. When they bleed and stuff. I mean, I dunno, skin is definitely supposed to be there." I tuned myself out as I talked, anticipating one of the typical responses.

     "Lemme see." It was murmured low and in a gentle tone, but it definitely wasn't a question. Nor was it a typical response.

C-r-u-n-c-h.

     Sweet shards crushed between my teeth until the stick was clamped between them. I waited for an answer that wasn't "okay" to come to mind while he propped an elbow up on the arm of the couch. Resting his head on his hand with a patient smile.

     I marveled at his handsomeness initially, but my stubbornness flared when I realized that he already knew exactly what I was gonna do. And that he was waiting for me to stop denying it.

     The paper around the lollipop stick was getting soft to bite so I reached up a hand absentmindedly, to pull it out of my mouth.

     I personally believed that Yoongi played down how incredible his reflexes actually were at all times. And that he kept a certain level of speed and strength on reserve for when he really wanted to use it.

     Because I didn't even see him reach out to grab my arm.

     Shock may have been the reason for it, but when he opened his other hand toward me, I placed my free one in it without question. A smile tugged on the left side of his mouth.

     The "good girl" he murmured tried to send me over the edge completely, but the co-occurring inspection of my hands was keeping me rigidly in place. Frozen, with cheeks burning hot enough to steam.

     His fingers were long enough, and palms wide enough that he could cradle a hand in one of his own to look at the damage I'd done. Looking closely at each finger with a focused pout and knitted eyebrows.

     "Aren't you gonna tell me it's a gross and really terrible habit that I should quit?" It was making it difficult to breathe. To have him hold them so carefully.

     Sniffing in a sharp inhale, Yoongi set my hands in my lap with a squeeze.

     "Why? Are you doing it on purpose? Be right back." Was all he said before slipping behind the front door.

     I sat in a stunned silence until Yoongi returned with a lunchbox and bewildered Jungkook.

     The "wtf" looks we shot at each other went unanswered, and Jungkook let himself be (gently) pushed onto the couch next to me before Yoongi crouched down in front of us.

     "Hands." Was all that came out in his deep, calm voice.

     The tips of Jungkook's ears turned red and so did the tops of my cheeks. But we both put our hands on our knees obediently. Trying not to fidget as Yoongi flicked open the latch to the lunchbox, muttering to himself.

     It looked like it had been his since, at least 1998. The paint had worn down to reveal the shiny metal underneath but it'd been covered with stickers to hide most of it. I craned my neck to take a peek inside, seeing bits and pieces of what looked like a First-Aid kit and a shit load of Band-Aids.

     With an expression too serious for the words that were said, "Do you want characters or other?" was directed at JK and I.

     "Uhhh," Jungkook looked at me like I knew the answer, "Characters?" He sounded unsure.

     Yoongi had adopted the persona of an exhausted elementary school nurse. Tucking his chin to rifle through his collection, "Animals or superheroes?" he sighed.

     Jungkook chose superheroes.

Without looking at him, Yoongi began peeling open the packaging and carefully wrapped each of Jungkook's fingertips with a variety of Marvel themed Band-Aids. I don't think he'd own up to it but, I watched him realize that two of the same would be too close together. And how he shuffled back through the pile to find another one to take its place.

     Once Jungkook was done, Yoongi gave him a slight shove.

     "Beat it. You're not supposed to be around HER and especially not with ME." His voice was gruff but warm.

     Jungkook panicked. A small and frustrated whine came out of him as he whipped his head to look at me and then Yoongi. Trying to decide if we'd really get in trouble or if Yoongs was only fucking with him.

     "Love you." Flew out of his mouth and a kiss was pressed to my forehead before he scurried back inside to avoid getting caught.

     Yoongi sat down in his place and with an expectant look, pulled one of my hands to rest on his thigh.

     "You know, Jin's knocked out with that cold. The trouble twins are gone. Joon's probably stoned in his room and Hobes likely thinks that JK is still right where he left him. So you made him leave becaaauuusee..." And okay yeah, maybe I knew why he did but, being alone with Yoongi brought out an inner gremlin. One that acted independently, apparently.

     The stare I got back in return was anticipated but still maddening. One hand hovered over the lunchbox but the other held my own on his leg with a stable pressure. I dunno why I always got so insistent, about trying to make him lose his cool. Well, probably because he made me lose mine with an impossible and infuriating ease.

Fuck that, I'll out-"knowingly" stare at him back then, I thought.

     I caved in less than 10 seconds.

     And sulked out, "cute ones", while he quietly laughed at my defeat.

     As he wrapped a tiara'd Dalmatian puppy around my index finger, "It wouldn't be nice to make him watch this.", was grumbled out in a way that tickled my ear.

He was right.

     I squirmed on the couch, both appreciating the attentive work he was doing and trying to escape the pressure building in my chest.

     A small glimpse up at me, and then - "Do people really tell you it's gross?" was said with such concern, that I nearly flung myself off the front porch.

    

     Instead of doing that, and with incredible self-restraint, I contemplated the amount of honesty needed in my answer. Yeah, all the fuckin' time? Or maybe that was too aggressive. Yeah, a lot. Ok maybe that would be too abrupt? Is being abrupt bad? I dunno, isn't it gross? I thought people thought it was?

     The hand Yoongi wasn't working on floated up to my mouth habitually, but when I bit down - the wincing "ah", didn't come from me.

     Because Yoongi had stuck his finger in my mouth as a replacement.

     And I gotta tell ya, it was a weird way to realize something about myself.

Luckily, Yoongi and I were known for our emotional communication skills.

     Unluckily, we were not known for those skills being good.

     "You're like a baby shark. Haven't developed the ability to think thoughts yet." Yoongi smirked with a click of his tongue.

     Dumbass, I thought, don't insult someone while your finger's in their mouth.

     He realized his mistake as I bit down a bit harder. A pink glow flushed his face and a rush of excitement relieved the pressure I'd been struggling to breathe through.

     In an effort to look unbothered, Yoongi rummaged in the lunchbox with his free hand. But left the other between my teeth.

     A lick flicked against his fingertip, and there was a stutter in his movements.

Hmm.

     Fuck it.

     With the encouragement of my tongue, his finger slipped further inside my mouth - lips closed around it. It was, a practice of sorts. Reminiscent of another kind of oral activity, I dunno, maybe you'll know what I'm talking about.

     Not getting lost in it took concentrated intention though and at first, Yoongi's lack of response and complete silence helped provide that.

      At least, until I heard his breathing get heavier, and watched him bite his lip as he pushed another finger in. One that I accepted way too eagerly.

     The shuddering "hah" that he let out after I licked between the two gave an adrenaline rush. I grabbed ahold of his wrist with both hands.

     He let me get into the moment, until the pleasure I was feeling took audible form. Then he wrapped my hair around his other hand once before giving it a firm tug back.

     I should've been more embarrassed, that what I'd done had made me salivate that much, but the barely restrained want in his dark eyes erased it.

     "Yeah, people say it's gross." A small bubble of spit inflated and burst at the word, 'people'. I didn't try to wipe it away like I did before. Yoongi licked his lips before biting the bottom one, transfixed on the wetness of my own.

     With a sudden yank of my other hand, Yoongi redirected his focus and scoffed, "You are such an ass." under his breath.

     I wish I hated how proud of myself I felt.

     "We're two for two there Yoongs." I sighed.

And then it was quiet for a moment, Yoongi shoved the empty packaging into the front pocket of his hoodie and it made little crinkly noises as he worked. Once my other hand was done, Yoongi held it for a second and we looked at each other.

     "Thank...you..." I struggled to get the words out, voice soft and tapering off into nearly non-existence.

     One heartbeat.

     "Eh," Yoongi shrugged, "It isn't gross."

     One motion.

     My hand was dropped and another shot out to wrap around my throat. Squeezing just enough to make me go limp but still able to hear him.

     In a calm, nurturing voice he whispered - "I'll fix them up anytime you need. But don't fuck with me like that again princess.".

     At first, part of me wanted to nod along in hopes of praise. But what he'd said during his first show, that he "imagined me giving orders". That I was a "fake princess" - came back to me.

     I straddled his lap with a hand around his neck on impulse and couldn't swallow the pride needed to back down. In a teasing hiss, I whispered into an ear - "Excuse me, sir, and thank you for the help. But I'll fuck with you whenever I feel like it.".

     Yoongi had never looked that bashful in the entire time I'd known him and I would've gloated about it if he hadn't rolled us over so that he was on top of me.

      "Wahh Yoongs! You're fuckin' it up!" I spluttered into my hair as he smoothed it down over my face. My legs were trapped between his own. The width of his shoulders caged my upper body against the couch.

Fake a knee to the nuts.

     A tiny bit of room.

Both of my arms shot out to tousle his hair too.

     "Yaahhh! Cut it out!" Was whined out at me in a voice that made me giggle.

     We realized that we both had ticklish sides at the same moment. Our offensive stance of messing up hair paused and we huffed at each other. Trying hopelessly to hide what was going through our minds.

     Simultaneously, jabbing hands reached for sensitive places and turned offense into a reflex-dependent defense.

     Yoongi took advantage of his position, bringing one knee up along the side of my thigh onto the couch and sitting down on my lap - trapping me and one of my key weapons (a hand) underneath him. My fingers strained to smack at his (surprising) bubble butt, but succeeded only at kind of tapping against it.

     No reaction.

     And once my other wrist was pinned down against the couch, Yoongi relentlessly went after my sides with his free one. I was laughing so hard my inhales sounded like a donkey braying and the guffaws came out in shrieks. "Overall Winner: Yoongi" smiled down at me and sarcastic little comments like, "ooh, she's quick!" were chuckled out as he continued.

     After an unexpectedly loud yell, an ominous "heeheeheeheeheeheehee" (Jin's windshield wiper laugh: witch mode) drifted up from the ground beneath us.

     I was released instantaneously with a baffled "what the hell" from Yoongs. The disembodied voice had gone back to radio silence, and we scrambled around the front porch - searching for any place Jin could be hiding.

     "Aight man what the hell, if you're out here then that shit's just -"

     "HEY! Stob it!" Jin's stuffy nosed voice rang out clear as a bell. It was coming from the couch.

     We flung off the cushions before laying flat on the ground, blindly swinging our arms with a string of "ew, ew, ew, ew, ew"'s. My fingers grazed something plastic and I pulled out my cobweb and dirt covered arm triumphant.

     It was a fuckin' baby monitor.

     "Remember that line Jin? When we first lived together? And how it was always super sick that we NEVER CROSSED IT?" Yoongi snatched the monitor away to unleash his righteous frustration.

     He paced as he ranted while I fiddled with the Band-Aids wrapped around my fingers. Adding on, "House members consenting to such HARSH BANISHMENT should be AWARE of their PRIVACY being INFRINGED UPON!" .  

     Jungkook's voice came through next, "Guys seriously. Jin's sick, stop it." - and I bet all of my belongings that there was a shit-eating grin on his face as he said it.

     "Yeahhh you know? Even though I'm dying I still risk my looks to watch out for you two! So stob it!" Jin and JK were both starting to giggle.

     In unison, "S-T-O-P!....I-T!!" rattled through the baby monitor before the other two dissolved into a fit of laughter.

Click.

     Yoongi slid the power button off. Snapped the back piece of the monitor to separate it and removed the batteries. I stared at him, amused.

     "I think just turning it off would've sufficed?".

     "You dunno Nin that well yet then." Yoongi huffed. Slipping the batteries into his jeans front pocket and the monitor in his lunchbox, he finished by stuffing the Band-Aid wrappers from his hoodie on top of it. It clanged as it shut.

     Going against all natural instincts, I didn't argue. And reached into the bag of lollipops instead, fishing for the perfect flavor. A distant and elongated "YAH" was hollered out from upstairs, it seemed Jin had realized we were no longer listening.

     I looked over to Yoongi, the apparent holder of all Jin knowledge.

     "We've gotta 'bout a minute forty-five until he's here," His eyes went to the bag my hand was in, "Gimme my favorite one.".

     He didn't have to tell me what it was.

     Twirling the blue raspberry and green apple sticks in my hand, I knew it was childish but I hmph'd it out anyways - "How come you always get your favorite.".

     Yoongi hesitated before taking the candy from me, something we knew but couldn't say behind his eyes.

     Then he plucked the lollipop between two fingers and shoved its wrapper in the pocket he'd just emptied.

     "Don't you know?" He grinned and plopped back onto the couch, "I've been a Such a good boy.".

[tarahardcore]

TEMPTATION - ONE

Pairing: yoongi x original female character

Summary: Roos doesn't get along with Yoongi. But she's intrigued. She's curious alright. Some would say she's tempted. Some would say the same for Yoongi.

Warnings: this content is for mature audiences only.

Tags: Mature themes, (not so good) friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, suggestive sexual themes, drug use, mental health themes, open relationships, emotional cheating, immigrant!yoongi, musicproducer!yoongi, named original character lead, original female character.

Chapter word count: 741

MASTERLIST ÷ next >>

Author note: I published the masterlist post by accident hahaha, but since it got some notes I guess I should drop the first chapter and just get it out of the way. I'm still in the very early stages of editing this story and I need to figure out a schedule because there're ninety one chapters to this story (although many are on the shorter side) and I really, really don't wanna take 91 weeks to publish it. So I hope I can settle for at least two parts per week once I'm finished with editing the first part of the story. I wonder which days are best for new chapter drops.

I opened the door, already putting the cigarette in my mouth and feeling my pockets for the lighter. I wasn't even thinking, I just needed to get out and take a deep breath, with the help of my best therapist.

From time to time, and more often than I would like to admit, I wonder whether I am making the right choices for my life. Living with generalized anxiety disorder and yet to be in an endless routine of night outs is not so easy and even with everything under control I sometimes feel it: I feel like I need to escape the hustle and bustle, the people leaning against me, the loud music, the enclosed space... just so I don't lose control.

I finally found the lighter in my hoodie pocket, lit my cig and took a deep breath inhaling it at the same time as my mind started to clear.

"Smoking is bad for you, you know?"

Damn it. My sense of calm evaporated as soon as I recognized the familiar voice and felt his eyes on me.

He had this stupid smile on his lips and was leaning against the wall next to the door I had just left. I saw it all as soon as I turned to look at the owner of the voice.

He also smoked a cigarette.

"OK. Thank you for letting me know."

He continued to smile and didn't take his eyes off me. Out of instinct and experience, I moved away. A few steps took me closer to the street and I kept my back to him, curled up by the cold as I tried to enjoy my cigarette in peace. But again, his voice found my ears.

"You should have put your coat on before you came out to smoke."

That tone again.

"Are you my mother?" I asked, unable to hide the irritation and frustration in my voice.

He got the message and said nothing more until he finished his own cigarette, put it out on the wall, turned towards the door and entered without looking back.

I was finally alone.

The night was freezing and I should have put on my coat before coming out for a smoke.

He was not wrong, but at that moment it was not a question of whether he was right or wrong. I went out to find some calm when it became oppressive inside; I had neither the time nor the disposition for meaningless conversation. I wasn’t even able to make meaningful conversations.

It didn't take long for me to finish my fag too and I contemplated lighting another one.

I looked behind me and through the big windows in front of the bar I could see what was going on inside. Everyone was excited, the music was loud enough to be heard from the outside, and I could hear the muffled sound of the conversations that took place over the loud music.

It was not yet late enough for people to start dancing, but neither was it so early that people were completely sober. It was that transition moment in the night, when you can go home well or you can stay and let the night and alcohol be responsible for your choices.

Tonight, I already knew what my choice would be.

I looked at my watch and, checking the time, I decided I wouldn’t light another cigarette. I buried my hands in my hoodie pockets that weren't enough to keep me warm and balanced myself on the curb, taking one step after another.

I looked through the bar window again, shook my head slightly and, taking a deep breath, walked towards the door.

After dodging several groups of people who were distracted enough not to hear me asking permission to pass through, I finally reached the big table in the back of the room, the captive spot where my friends and I sat almost night of the week.

I stopped by the table and they looked at me with interest. I signaled that I would leave and some asked me to stay. Lotte, who was the closest to me, got up to check on me. With a whispered yes, I reassured her.

On the way back to the door, I felt that I was being watched and out of the corner of my eye I saw his eyes on me once again, but I did not turn to meet his gaze.

[coupsie-daisies]

The Domestic Chronicles of Min Yoongi | Part 4

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, sick fic

Summary: Yoongi prides himself on taking care of the people he loves, and he can’t let his partner and their kid be sick without having someone to look after them.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Illness, mentions of not eating, implied vomiting, sick child

A/N: This took forever, I’m so sorry. But I think it’s the cutest one yet so hopefully that makes up for it. Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Tags (open): @dragonofthenorth0726 // @sunnytaes // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @decaffedthoughts // @snow-pegasus // @janeelizabeth1216​

series masterlist | main masterlist

Being sick was, quite frankly, miserable. Especially when your toddler was also sick, you both were running a fever, and she insisted upon curling up against you. But your heart couldn't take the idea of making her lay in her own bed when she felt so miserable. Instead you coaxed her into sipping water and taking cough medicine between naps and weak attempts at meal times.

Yoongi was away on work, although he'd already wrapped up and was just taking a couple of days to relax. He worked hard, and usually you were glad for him to have a little break from all the stress he carried on his shoulders. However, you were also pretty sure that the past few days of being sick and being a parent at the same time without your partner was kicking your ass.

It was late morning once you finally calmed Mijung down enough to sleep, and you were out just as quickly afterwards, grateful for the medicine taking the edge of your fever. You managed a few hours more of sleep, your daughter luckily staying asleep as well. Her fever seemed to have broken by the looks of it. Yours, however, was still raging on. Exhaustion weighed heavy on you, spurred on by the overwhelming heat and the ache in your stomach. You hadn't been able to stomach much food over the past few days, nibbling on crackers and canned soups, occasionally managing enough energy to make a sandwich for you and Mijung to share.

You sat up, your entire body feeling as if molten lead was racing through your veins, scalding hot, and terribly heavy as you tried to move without waking up the sleeping child that had taken up the center of your bed. You sat at the edge of the bed for several moments before you managed to process the space around you through the haze that you'd been trying to adjust to for the past several days.

The mess in the room had been tidied up, clothes put in the hamper and the dishes that had piled up from your coaxing your daughter into eating were nowhere to be seen. You furrowed your sweat lined brows, trying to make sense of it. Maybe your mom had stopped by to check on you. But surely she would have left a note or woken you up. Then you were met with the wafting scent of stew, beef and vegetables and silky broth that you knew well. You pushed yourself to your feet, shivering as you wrapped yourself in a spare blanket and trudged into the kitchen.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be home for a while." You said. You winced at the sound of your voice scraping out of your throat, hoarse and weak, and causing you to cough into your elbow. Yoongi whirled around at the sound of you, looking worried and a little panicked. He put the lid back on the stew, taking a few quick steps towards you to press his hand to your forehead.

"You're still burning up. You should be in bed. Food isn't ready yet." He fussed. It was sweet seeing him like this. Yoongi was usually more aloof than this, keeping his affectionate words to a minimum and usually showing it in the little ways you'd learned to pick up on. Though he'd grown a bit softer on the surface over the past few years since you had Mijung.

"You cleaned up. I didn't know you were coming home." You sniffled and smiled a little, though it made your head pound a little harder. Yoongi pressed a kiss to your hairline before moving to get you a fresh glass of water. He pressed it into your hands.

"I didn't want to leave you alone when both of you are sick." He said, urging you to sip the water. You do, although you don't particularly want to, and it makes you aware of the taste of sickness in your mouth. You took another drink. "You both were sleeping so I figured you needed it."

You smiled, curling close to his chest despite the overwhelming heat it brought on. He stroked your cheek gently, making you drink a little more.

"Go back to bed. Food should be done in a little while. I can bring some in for you too. Has she been eating alright?" He asked, knowing full well that she got a little fussy when she was sick, refusing to listen to anyone (well, to you at least). You nodded.

"Yeah, she's been trying. Hasn't been keeping much down though. Mostly just toast, crackers. A little rice." You say. You want to argue and tell him that you'd rather stay with him while he cooked, but the heaviness in your body and the constant thudding of your heartbeat in your head made it hard to argue. He pressed a kiss to your lips before nudging you back towards your bedroom. You scowled.

"You're gonna get yourself sick. You gotta be careful, Yoon," You huffed, though you just wanted another kiss after feeling so miserable for so long. He rolled his eyes and kissed you again despite your protest, then one more time.

"I can handle a little cold."

You gave in, slipping out of his arms and carrying yourself back to bed. You laid yourself out on the bed, wrapping yourself in blankets in hopes that you could sweat out the last of the fever. Mijung snuggled into your side with a quiet whine that told you she still wasn't feeling much like herself.

Sleep took you easier now that you had Yoongi close, and when you woke up again, you were already feeling better. You shrugged the blankets off your shoulders and smiled at the sight of Yoongi carefully setting down a bowl for you on the stand next to the bed.

"Thank you." You mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. He kissed your forehead in response. But your words were enough to wake up the little girl sprawled next to you. She blinked a few times before her dark eyes found Yoongi. Her bottom lip poked out in a little pout.

"Appa," She huffed out. Yoongi was on her side of the bed in a heartbeat, scooping her into his arms where she wrapped her little arms around his neck. "Don't feel good,"

He smiled, stroking her hair and humming.

"I know, sweetheart. Come on, let's get some food in you. Appa's cooking makes everything better, right?" He teased, pinching her side lightly. She let out a groggy giggle, the first you'd heard out of her in days, and you knew then that everything was on the up and up.

Even if you would have to take care of Yoongi in a few days when he inevitably fell sick.

[helenamayhathaway]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS, SHINee Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Min Yoongi | Suga, Lee Taemin/Park Jimin (BTS), Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Choi Minho/Kim Kibum | Key Characters: Min Yoongi | Suga, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Park Jimin (BTS), Jeon Jungkook, Lee Taemin, Kim Namjoon | RM, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kim Taehyung | V, Choi Minho, Kim Kibum | Key, A Bearded Dragon Named Goemul, A Cat Named Whiskey, A Cat Named Tango Additional Tags: Not Actually Unrequited Love, Artist Min Yoongi | Suga, taekwondo, Jung Hoseok Does Taekwondo, Min Yoongi | Suga Has ADHD, Min Yoongi | Suga Is Very Much Autistic, Min Yoongi | Suga is Trying His Best, Athlete Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Murder Mystery, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Minor Violence, Crushes, Everyone Is Gay, Age Swap, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Mutual Pining, I have a degree in English & Creative Writing if that makes you want to click on this fic, Unreliable Narrator

Summary: The author of South Korea’s most popular manhwa, Young Kim-Min (known to his friends as Min Yoongi), was nearly killed in an attempted murder, but he was miraculously saved by the main character of his own comic—or at least by the man on whom he based that character. Jung Hoseok, Korea’s taekwondo megastar, was also the jock from Yoongi’s high school that he fell madly in love with. As with all high school crushes, Hoseok never even knew he existed. Well, eight years later, a whole lot of people are trying to murder Yoongi, and Hoseok seems to be the only person who holds the secret as to why. He certainly knows Yoongi exists now, but Yoongi would not have picked mortal peril as the circumstances.

[farfromsugafanfic]

Rebound | Chapter Seven: Weak Side

Genre: College AU, Basketball Captain!Yoongi, Basketball Captain!Reader, Idiots to Lovers, slight Rivals to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: references to sexual acts

Synopsis: You and Yoongi always catch each other on the rebound.

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"Remember to ice it for twenty minutes before you go to bed," you said, waving from the driver's seat of your car.

Yoongi nodded and slung his bag over his shoulder. He waved back at you before walking awkwardly towards his apartment. At the rate he was going, it was going to take him forever to get up the stairs.

You shut off your car and got out to help him. "Yoongs," you said, lightly grabbing his wrist and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "Let me help you."

Yoongi relented and allowed his arm to fall over your shoulders. You walked with him slowly as the two of you walked up the stairs one at a time.

Yoongi's face was curled in frustration and he was nearly panting by the time you reached his front door. You knew he had been careful not to put his weight on you and had taken the brunt of the pain himself. And, in all the years you'd known Yoongi, the one thing that frustrated him most was when he wasn't able to practice.

Yoongi reached in his pocket and pulled out his keys, fumbling slightly before getting the door open.

Yoongi's apartment was exactly how you imagined. Functional with a few small details of personality. The walls were mostly bare, except for his high school basketball jersey that hung on the main wall of the room.

"Aw, I still have mine, too," you said, pointing up at the fading red fabric.

"Oh yeah, I, uh, I like to remember where I started. And, it was the only thing we could get to stay on the wall without damaging it."

You laughed. Noticing the wall safe strips every college student is familiar with, on the back of the frame.

"You don't live alone, right?"

Yoongi shook his head. "Nah, I have two roommates. But, we're all busy, so we don't really see each other much."

"Do you want me to stay until someone else gets back?"

You helped drop him gently on the couch and stretched your shoulder as the weight he had leaned on you had still be substantial.

"It's getting late," he said. "You should get home."

You nodded, but not leaving the room. Yoongi always seemed to know the perfect thing to say when ever you were down. Maybe he'd known you long enough it just came naturally, or maybe he just understood something about you that you didn't. But, in that moment, you couldn't find anything to say to make Yoongi feel better, or rather, any reason to stay.

You'd never admit to him how much you wanted to curl up under his arm on that couch and watch a movie until you both fell asleep. Or, how thankful you were that you were chosen to help Yoongi rather than anyone else on the team or the coach.

"Call me when you get home," he said.

You nodded again and finally turned to leave when you felt Yoongi's hand wrap around your wrist. It was still a little sweaty and almost felt clammy, like a teenage boy who's about to confess.

Before you could question Yoongi's action, his lips pressed to yours quickly and chastely. It wasn't a special kiss by any means, in most respects boring and innocent. The kind of kiss that was shared between shy kids or as a quick interlude before both parties needed to rush off into their lives.

"Thank you," he said.

You nodded, not knowing how else to respond. You weren't sure why you were so awkward in the moment, but something in your stomach caused you to become weirdly energized and nearly trip as you turned around.

Your eyes widened as you came face to face with another boy. His eyes were just as wide and his lips pursed slightly in surprise.

"Oh, uh, sorry to intrude," you said, as you moved past the boy. "I was just dropping Yoongi off. He, uh, sprained his ankle at practice."

The boy nodded, any semblance of his surprise long gone. His composure barely lost.

"It's not an intrusion at all," the boy said. You hadn't noticed how attractive Yoongi's roommate was until that moment when he smiled at you and sent a glance at towards Yoongi. "I don't think we've met, I'm Jin."

"Y/N," you said. "I'm a friend of Yoongi."

"It seems like you're a little more than friends," Jin said, partially under his breath, but you could tell he wasn't attempting to hide his words.

You immediately felt your body grow warm and you dropped his eye contact.

"Leave her alone, Jin," Yoongi said, his cheeks tinged a shade of pink.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you, Y/N. I've just, uh, never seen Yoongi like this."

You ignored Jin's comment to save yourself from making a bigger fool of yourself and said you goodbyes. With another quick reminder for Yoongi to ice his ankle before bed, you walked back down to your car.

vVv

"The van's full," your coach said. You and Yoongi stood just outside the open door, your bags sling over your shoulders. "Does one of you mind driving?"

"I don't mind," Yoongi said, as you shook your head. While you weren't keen on driving,Yoongi always drove. It was infuriating that he always insisted. But, you knew that the three hour drive would wear you out and only make the anxiety you already felt increase.

You followed Yoongi to his car. He popped the trunk and he tossed his bag in before taking yours off your shoulder and throwing it in beside his.

You climbed into the passenger seat, buckling yourself in, and hoping to find some comfort on the long ride.

He plugged in an aux cord and held it out towards you. "Do you want to play music?"

You shrugged. "I don't care. You can play whatever." You turned to see the van full of you teammates departing and you caught a few sympathetic glances from them. They all still thought your rivalry with Yoongi was because you actually hated each other, or at least that you annoyed by him.

You would never tell them it was because you were trying to forget how his skin felt against yours. The pressure of his lips against your own. Trying to forget that you'd slept with him when he was Ji-yoo.

"Are you nervous?" Yoongi asked, keeping his hip hop playlist at a low volume. He pulled out of the parking lot, following the van.

"I don't know. I don't think there's a point, but, yeah, I guess I am."

"You've practiced a lot and look solid. You don't have anything to worry about."

You nodded, not feeling the knots settle in your stomach. "Are you nervous?"

"Not really," Yoongi said. "I don't really care if I win or lose. I've started to care mainly about my music. I love basketball, but I don't really think there's a future there for me."

You turned your head to try and hide to your surprise. Yoongi was one of the best basketball players you knew and if he didn't see a future for himself in the sport, where did that leave you?

"It's okay," he said. "I don't really want to play professionally. I'm more into my music."

You nodded, forgetting Yoongi was a music major. The majority of your teams were studying something related to sports: sport psychology, business, or like you, kinesthesiology.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing after graduation?"

He shook his head. "I'm just gonna keep working on it. I've already sold a few songs, so it shouldn't be too hard. Maybe do a mixtape or something."

"A mixtape?" you asked, smirking. "Could I listen to it?"

"Do you want to listen to it?"

"Maybe," you said. "If you'd let me."

"Well, I haven't even written it yet, but once it's finished, you'll be the first to listen to it."

You smiled. "Even if we don't see each other after graduation?"

That caused him to take his eyes off the road for a moment. They flit over your form that slumped slightly in the passenger seat.

"Of course, I can't think of anyone else I want to listen to it first."

Your shifted your gaze out to the vast highway. The van with your teammates now a few cars in front of you. You felt Yoongi look over at you a few times, while the looks were brief, they nearly burned holes in your skin.

You barely talked for the rest of the ride. Your thoughts straying to the last time you were in Yoongi's car. His limbs tangled with yours and his raspy, tired voice. You were sure now that he was in love with you. And, worst of all, you were falling in love with him.

You had just entered the city where finals was held. It was held in a professional stadium—the Ravens to be more specific—the team Yoongi had seen scouting you at semis.

If Yoongi was right, this could very well the city you'd move to after graduation. The place where your professional basketball career would begin. For the team, you'd loved since you were a child.

"You know, we could say we got stuck in traffic..."

"And? What?" Yoongi asked, his eyebrows raising, as he exited.

The city buildings rose above you now. It wasn't that you weren't used to the city, the twin you and Yoongi grew up on was a half hour away. But, your university was in a small city, where it felt like you could breathe.

"I don't know," you said. "I could finally pay you back for last time." Your lips twitched. You wanted to pretend that giving Yoongi a blow job hadn't been on your mind, but it was impossible.

"You really want to taste me, huh?" His lips were twisted in a smirk and his fingers splayed across the stick shift as he shifted down to a lower gear.

You gulped at his phrasing, finding that you quickly needed to rearrange yourself in the car seat.

"Not today," he said, the smirk still not leaving his lips. "Let's get through finals first."

You felt like you were going to lose your mind. The boy was going to force you to wait. But, maybe it was for the best. The last couple times you slept together it happened as a rebound, just to help you bounce back.

Except, it hadn't. You hadn't even glance at other guys since you and Yoongi first had sex on your desk.

"But, we should still take that detour. There's a place I've been wanting to go."

@sarcasticsweetlara @vickvx @baechugff @wobblewobble822 @wmyoons @limiworld

Add yourself to the taglist

[exouniverse]

Major - Moodboard • Yoongi x gn!reader

[emerald-notes]

My Guardian Angel - Part 2

Fandom: BTS Paring: Min Yoongi x Female Reader Genre: Fluff and slight angst Warning: Age gap, sorry but Yoongi spoils our little mc too much, nightmares, implication of abusive parents, running away from home, kissing (on the cheek), sickness, crying etc. Word Count: 2.8K Words Note: Since the reader is only 15 years old, I reduced Yoongi’s age to be 22. Please keep the age gap in mind before diving in to read. I must say there is nothing explicit in here.

Summary: You start to find happiness in the little things of your everyday routine bound life with the not-so-stranger in your shared home...

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 [Complete]

*************************************************

"Kitten, I'm home." A familiar voice greeted me from the outside while I was inside hiding beside the closed door.

My three most favorite words coming out of the mouth of my favorite person were enough to make even my worst day better. I tried hard to stop myself from giggling and giving away my position to him.

“Shelby, don’t!” I angrily whispered to our dog to stay quiet at her place. But she kept looking in my direction with her tail wagging behind her. I glared at her to stop. There was no time to bring Shelby beside me. Because I could already hear Yoongi opening the door.

And “Bwagh!!!” I yelled at his face right away.

“Ahh!” Yoongi sighed irritably. His eyes closed with a visible frown on his forehead. “How long will you keep this up?” He asked finally.

“Long enough for you to get used to it.” I replied happily. I wondered how stupid he could be for falling for the same old trick dozens of times. Nevertheless, this simple silly act made both of our days better.

As for most of my days, there was nothing exciting going on. Yoongi left everyday early in the morning even before I was awake. He always prepared both breakfast and lunch so that I really had no work to do. The only thing that kept me busy in this house in the middle of nowhere was our dog, Shelby. I would pet her, feed her, play with her and even talk to her from time to time to pass my lonely hours.

And Yoongi would be busy doing carpentry in the nearest town. He would have his lunch outside and would be home before it's too dark. His coming home was the time I wait for everyday since I started living with him. Because everyday I missed his presence beside me terribly.

As soon as he was home, I was happy again. I would start talking about how boring my day went and how much I missed him and what a new trick I had taught Shelby and what an interesting story I read from one of his old books and what a unique insect I had discovered outside and many more.

Despite being exhausted from his work earlier, Yoongi never complained. He listened attentively while doing his usual household chores with me. He rarely interrupted me while I talked but I knew for sure he was listening.

On a normal night, we would go to bed as soon as we were done with our dinner. But sometimes I would make a request to Yoongi to play the guitar for me. And he would be already on the couch ready to play my favorite tune as soon as I rested my head on his lap. Sometimes I would fall asleep and Yoongi would carry me to the bed without waking me up.

He let me have the bed for myself. It was too small for two people. So Yoongi would sleep on a sleeping bag on the floor beside it. I had asked him to let me sleep there instead since it was practically his house. But he refused and stayed firm in his decision.

Even with all the happiness that I never imagined I could experience, it would be a lie to say that I never feared losing it all. I often did. Actually more often than it could be counted as often. Every time I could hear Yoongi’s soft snoring through the quiet night, I would think about my life before him.

I knew that I was a burden on my step father who, after my mother’s death, had clearly shown me in every single way possible that I was unwanted in his house. But he was also very strict and possessive in nature. What if one day he decided that he would search for me?

I dreaded that my step father would find me somehow and all of this would be over. I would no longer be able to see Yoongi. I would no longer know what happiness truly feels like. I would no longer have a place to call home.

"Don't go anywhere far. I don't have the energy to look for you around the whole town." Yoongi yelled at me as I sprinted out of the grocery store.

"I won't." I replied louder as I went closer to one of my favorite places.

The gift shop.

It was a regular thing at this point. Every weekend, Yoongi would bring me with him to the town to do the week's grocery shopping and after that I was allowed to look through the cheap gift shop nearby. I would find something I liked and Yoongi would buy that for me in the hope of keeping my mood lifted throughout the whole week.

I walked around the small shop and carefully looked for the one thing that could bring me some comfort at times when Yoongi’s not there for me. And the little fox plushie, I assumed, recently came into the shop because I never had seen one here, caught my attention.

“Aren’t you a cutie?" I took the sleeping fox in my arms and cradled it slowly. I realized I had never had a stuffed animal my entire life. Not that I had always wanted one. But the sudden realization made me want to have a stuffed animal for myself.

I sensed Yoongi coming into the shop and I looked back, holding the fox towards him to see.

"So, you've already made up your mind, kitten?" Yoongi took the plushie from me to check it. But there was a frown on his forehead.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Umm... I think we can find something better than this." He returned the baby fox back to its family.

That was a really unexpected reply. Yoongi had never refused to buy me the thing I always chose for myself. I couldn’t even see any defect on it for him to say that. As he walked away from the plushie section, I took the little fox again and the price tag caught my eyes this time.

Hell, no!

"How come something that is too costly ended up at a cheap shop like this one?" I thought to myself. I could tell that my face went red from the embarrassment.

I should have been more understanding. Just because he said he'd buy me anything I liked didn't mean that I could ask for just about anything. That's asking a little too much from him considering how generous he was to me.

So, I picked a colorful key chain and showed it to Yoongi, pretending to be very hyped about it. He simply nodded and got that for me.

On our way home, I couldn't bring myself to talk like I usually did. Yoongi, too, remained too quiet.

The next weekend, Yoongi had to go to work. He said that it was the only time I had to miss going to the town and that he would make sure that it would never happen again. Despite the reassurance, I was kinda mad at him the whole day and decided not to talk to him when he came home.

He came home later than usual, called "Kitten, I'm home" as usual and asked me to put the groceries at the right places.

I, intentionally sulking at his presence, took the bags from him and got to work without any words. Judging by the heavy atmosphere that I had created around the house, he seemed to have understood how I felt. But he stayed quiet nonetheless.

My head was burning at that point. Maybe that was why I made unnecessary noises while doing the simple tasks Yoongi had assigned me to do.

"Oppa!" I couldn't help exclaiming as I noticed the small bag. I had been to the place too many times to know where it came from. And there it was. The little sleeping fox plush, waiting for me to embrace it in my arms.

I waited no longer. I ran towards Yoongi and immediately pulled him in a hug. Unable to say how happy he had made me, I kissed his cheek impulsively instead.

"Aish!" That usual sound of Yoongi whenever he was irritated or at least wanted me to think that he was.

But in a split second, his face beamed and he accidently flashed a gummy smile. Not to be exaggerating but it was a sight worth dying for. Yoongi's face changed, with that his whole demeanor changed as well. He looked like a completely different person when he smiled like that.

So, I had to say it, "Had I known it before, I would have kissed you all day and night, only for you to smile like that."

The only time I remembered going on a vacation was when I was a child and my father was alive at the time. We had gone to stay by the sea for a week. Even though most of the memories were faded, I could still see my father’s happy face in my mind sometimes.

This time it was the desert in contrast to the sea. Yoongi had planned to take a few days off from work and take me on a hike. I had never been so excited to look forward to something. We packed our stuff, got in his jeep and drove off.

The place looked so lively with many plants of vibrant colors. There were small and big mountains. The huge golden field stretched ahead of us. Yoongi parked his car at a side and we got off with our bags. After some hours of walking past the rocky mountains we found a suitable place to camp for the night.

I was excited at the prospect of sleeping in the open sky. Something about seeing the galaxy all night told me that it was a rare experience only a few fortunates could afford. I got another new reason to be grateful to Yoongi for the rest of my life.

“Oppa!” I called to check if he was already asleep since we had a long day.

“Hmm?” he replied.

“What does it feel like to look at the sky and you can see a part of eternity ahead of you?”

“Umm…” He thought for a moment before answering, “I don’t know! What do you feel about it?”

“I feel small. I feel insignificant. I feel…” I stopped and glanced at him, expecting a reaction.

He was still looking at the sky earnestly but hummed quietly at my response. It felt like I didn’t need to explain it further. Yoongi understood.

“Oppa!” I hesitantly called again, “Would you mind if I ask you something?”

“Ask away!” He shot me a pretending-to-be-annoying look and turned back to the sky.

I gulped before asking, “Why do you live alone?”

“For peace.” He sighed.

“I don't think I understand.”

Yoongi stayed quiet for some time and I felt like I shouldn’t have pushed the boundary. So, I turned on the other side and closed my eyes.

As I was dozing off, I could hear Yoongi’s deep soothing voice. He talked as if he was living the memory that he was speaking of. My tired eyes couldn’t cooperate. But my ears were all awoken.

“I was about your age, kitten, when I ran away from my parents seven years ago. Until now I never regretted that decision even though there were times I actually missed them. Because it was the only way i could bear to live with a sane mind. Solitary life offers you a kind of peace you wouldn’t know you needed until you can experience it. But…”

He stopped suddenly. I wanted to ask him to continue. I wanted to know what could be the ‘but’ when he himself said that he didn’t regret it. Apparently I didn’t need to. Because Yoongi spoke the rest of the words in a muffled voice as he fixed his posture to a comforting sleeping position.

“I never realized that it was happiness that I lacked in my life apart from peace. That was until I met you.”

His words kept me up through most of the night.

The next morning, it turned out I had a severe dust allergy. So, I woke up with a swollen face and a tight throat. The horror in Yoongi’s eyes as he realized something was wrong with me was another new thing I discovered his neutral face could do.

My feet were blistered from walking in the heat last day. So, after walking almost half of the way, Yoongi had to give me a piggyback ride until we reached his jeep.

I rested my head on his shoulders as he walked slowly carrying my weight on his back. And I spoke quietly in his ears.

“It was the same for me too, Oppa. I realized I can finally rely on someone without having to feel like a burden.”

I could hear the usual sound of the car being parked outside. I sprinted out of my room in no second to greet Yoongi. But instead I saw the man I was the most scared of before me. It was my step father.

“Long time, no see, huh?” He grinned at me with his disgusting rotten teeth.

“H… how d… did you find me?” I stammered as I took a step back.

“C’mon, now! Is that the way you greet your father?” The man began to walk towards me.

“Stop!” I yelled. “You’re not my father.” I wanted to scream it on his face but couldn’t bring myself to do so.

“Quit the game. It’s time to go home.” He quickly grabbed onto my wrist before I could turn back to run.

“Let go of me.” I screamed. “I’m not going anywhere from here.”

No matter how much I screamed or pleaded, he seemed to take no notice of that. He kept dragging me towards his van. I tried hard to fight him. But he was way too strong.

“Oppa!” I tried calling for Yoongi in vain. I knew he wouldn’t be able to hear me. He was miles away at work. He didn’t even know anything about the existence of my cruel step father.

As soon as he threw me inside his van I tried to get up and escape. But he grabbed onto my hair and pulled me back inside. I screeched my lungs out as a sharp pain ran through my head.

I woke up panting and drenched in sweat. I must have screamed in real life because Yoongi was already beside me, trying to read from my face just how bad of a nightmare I had.

I tried to speak but my breath was hitched, as always, whenever I cried. Yoongi moved a little closer and I threw myself at him, hugging him by his neck and sobbing loudly on his chest.

My grip on him tightened as he tried to move. I couldn’t let him go from my sight. I couldn’t let my nightmare come to reality.

Yoongi hugged me back and stayed that way for quite some time before whispering softly in my ears.

“Kitten!” He said, “I’m not going anywhere. Just give me a minute, okay?”

I sniffed and nodded my head as I released my hold on his neck. Yoongi went to the patio and came back quickly with his guitar. I tilted my head to the side in confusion.

Yoongi started to play a soft tune. It was a new one. I hadn’t heard him playing it before. I grabbed a pillow and leaned on the side of the bed. Then I closed my eyes to absorb the music. I noticed that it made me feel relaxed within a minute and I was able to speak again. He really knew how to calm me down.

Something that I had come to notice was that Yoongi never talked unless he knew for sure I was ready to speak again. So I had to make the first move. And I calculated just what to ask for in my head before I spoke.

“Oppa! I have a favor to ask for.” I stated quietly. I knew Yoongi wouldn’t be able to refuse.

He stopped the music and looked towards me. I said, “Can you please lie beside me until I sleep? Just tonight? I swear I won’t ask again.”

Yoongi closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration, “Aish! This girl and her whining. Yah!” He scolded me, still speaking softly though, “Don’t you think I’m spoiling you a little too much? You’re always asking for favors. How old do you think you are?...”

His rant went on about as much time as it took for him to make the bed. Then he lied in the corner, making an irritated face. I smilingly joined him without a word. Even though he would say that he didn’t like to be touched, he was undoubtedly the best cuddling partner one could ever wish for.

Special 8 Photo-folio Masterlist

My Personal Masterlist

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[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 01

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: recreational drinking, yoongi is an asshole (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.1k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: NEW ERA NEW ERA NEW ERA! whew!!! i’m excited for this one! this is going to be a loooong ride, so buckle up and enjoy! please note the slow burn tag on this one, because i’m not joking around with it. trust me, it’s going to hurt me just as much as it hurts you.

a HUGE thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for continuing to beta read for me <3 your commentary never fails to make me laugh and your edits save my life.

P.S. everything i know about the korean music industry is informed by my years as a kpop fan. i don’t know much about the rock scene there, so expect inaccuracies galore going forward. i do my due diligence where i can, but that can only help so much.

CH. 01: ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE VAMPIRES!

You aren’t entirely sure when you stopped feeling at home in places like this. There has to be some kind of defining event, some kind of indicator of The Before and The After, but every time you try and figure it out you come up short.

In The Before, not all that long ago, you would be scrounging for the bus fare rattling around in your pockets to get to a place like this as soon as you punched out from your shift at the Speedy Mart.

During your short stint in college, your friends didn’t understand your obsession. Music venues, to them, were fun for a weekend’s night out. The thrill of flashing a fake ID, of flirting with the musicians after their set, of getting said musicians to buy them drinks—it was a satisfying rebellion, a fun story to tell people at school and hide from their parents.

But you were there every day, even after classes and graveyard shifts under fluorescent lights, always racing to the nearest show without even changing out of your polo. It was never a rebellion to you. The lights, the thumping bass, the secondhand smoke—it made every nerve ending in your body light up.

You were born in this smoke, as far as you’re concerned.

Maybe it’s different now because it’s work to be here. But what isn’t work, these days? Your life is micromanaged down to the minutiae—the meals you eat, the products you use in your hair, your goddamn piss breaks. There’s no clocking out for you, no gasp of relief that comes after. Such is life for one of Seoul’s many playthings.

Even in the dead of winter, your stylist, Hyerin, has you in a dress that begs to be pulled down every five minutes like clockwork. 

You learned a long time ago to bite your tongue on matters like this. The brands you work for pay you for the exposure you give them, after all. The chill that settles in your bones from the ten steps you take from your paid car to the venue door will be well worth it next time you count the zeroes in your bank account. At least, that’s what Hyerin told you as she pushed you out of the car and into the cold.

Wasteland looks the same as it did the very first night you ever stepped foot inside. Same red, glowing guitar sign above the entrance. Same shitty overpriced drinks. Same sticky floors. It’s nice that some things never change even when you do.

You’ve never been on the balcony, though. You’ve gotta hand it to Jeongguk—he’s really pulling out all the stops. To your knowledge, the balcony is normally reserved for VIPs. Close friends and family of the band, other celebrities, lucky and well-connected fans. Significant others. You suppose you fall under more than one of those categories now.

The crowd gathered on this side of the stage buzzes incessantly around you, waiting for the set to start. The excitement is palpable, and you understand why. It’s the very last show of Burn The Stage’s very first world tour following the release of their third studio album, and they’re ending it here: in Seoul. At Wasteland no less, the venue that housed the show that got them signed in the first place. Of course people are excited.

If you were the same person you were in The Before, you would be, too. 

Instead, as the stage lights go down and the crowd roars around you, you down the rest of your drink and pray it’ll do its job and calm your fidgeting. For a split second, the thought that maybe you shouldn’t be drunk tonight passes through your brain, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Your hopes of making a good first impression were squandered as soon as Hyerin zipped up your dress. 

Besides, it’s not as if Jeongguk picked you for your shining reputation. More like the opposite.

With a flash of lights and a cacophony of sound, Burn The Stage launches into their first song on the setlist. The crowd roars around you, but you’re not here as a fan, so you try to remember everything Jeongguk taught you in preparation for tonight.

If you weren’t already close, most everything there is to learn about Jeon Jeongguk himself could easily be found with a simple Naver search.

Not only is Jeongguk the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist of Burn The Stage, but he’s also the de facto face of the band, and he couldn’t be better suited for the job. He’s beautiful. Like, seriously beautiful. Well-built and knows it, sings songs about love and sex and anger with the sweetest voice known to man, covered in tattoos and piercings that eommas everywhere pretend to disapprove of when they’re actually ogling just as much as their daughters. He’s a teenage girl’s wet dream, and with that comes hordes of them using the deductive skills of the NIS to figure out the last time he took a shit. Very little in his life is a secret, whether he likes it or not.

The rest of the band, in turn, gets the luxury of a little bit of mystery.

Park Jimin, the drummer, and Kim Taehyung, the bassist. Jeongguk’s best friends in the world. You’ve met them both in passing before, at industry events here and there, and they both seemed nice enough. 

Jimin has a bit of a reputation for being temperamental, angry, but the way Jeongguk describes him paints him as something gentle. Childhood friends who’ve known each other since scraped knees and runny noses. 

It’s public knowledge that Jimin wanted to be a dancer, before this—that when he was in college, he suffered an injury that ended his dancing career before it even started. One moment he was one of the most promising ballet students in Seoul, and the next he was retired at nineteen. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but every time the band is interviewed the question is inevitably asked. Do you have any regrets? You’ve watched the videos, seen the way he shakes with anger even as he answers with a saccharine smile. You have a feeling getting along with Jimin won’t pose any challenges for you. You know a thing or two about regrets.

Taehyung is a bit harder to figure out, but not in any way that sparks concern. He’s just an interesting guy that way. 

He was the last to join the band, the first to answer a ‘BASS PLAYER NEEDED’ ad posted around the city. Apparently, he was so good that they didn’t feel the need to call anyone else.

He lives in his own world, does his own thing. Posts very artistic photo dumps on his Instagram with concerningly cryptic captions. He’s quiet when he’s around people he doesn’t know, but when he’s put in a room with Jimin and Jeongguk he becomes the loudest person there. He’s kind, caring, always seems to know the right thing to say even if it’s delivered in the strangest manner possible.

Jimin and Taehyung won’t cause any problems for you. Jeongguk assured you that they’d be easy to win over, that as long as Jeongguk likes you, you’re in with them. 

The real wild card is the guitarist. Min Yoongi.

According to Jeongguk, Burn The Stage wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for Yoongi. When the band formed, they were just dumb kids with a shared dream, but Yoongi was the one to set it all in motion. 

When they didn’t have anywhere to practice, Yoongi convinced the ajumma he worked for to let him cram as much equipment as he could fit into a tiny noraebang room. When venues wouldn’t book them without the guarantee that they would draw a crowd, Yoongi burned hundreds of CDs and stood on the streets of Hongdae begging people to listen. When shady entertainment companies started offering them laughable contracts, Yoongi found Namjoon and somehow convinced him to manage them for dirt cheap. When they finally got an offer worth taking, Yoongi made them mull it over for as long as they possibly could. Weigh the pros and cons and decide if it was what they really wanted.

If Jeongguk is the face of the band, Yoongi is the heart. Unfortunately for you, this particular heart is very well-guarded.

Yoongi takes his privacy seriously. He refuses to answer interview questions he deems too personal, he doesn’t use social media. When asked why, his answer is always that he wants the music to speak for him. 

Because that’s another thing: every single song that Burn The Stage has ever released has been penned by Yoongi. To his credit, it’s kind of what they’re known for. His lyrics have a raw honesty to them that’s gotten the band into trouble more than once. 

You finally tune into the show that’s unfolded below you, the words spilling from Jeongguk’s lips loud and clear in your ears now that you’re paying attention.

​​Well, I ain't got no dollar signs in my eyes That might be a surprise but it's true Said, "I'm not like you and I don't want your advice Or your praise or to move in the ways you do and I never will" 'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail

It’s rock music. It’s polarizing, controversial, edgy. Biting the hand that feeds them—especially in the eyes of the executives lining the band’s pockets, you’re sure. And yet everyone eats it up. 

Still, Yoongi wouldn’t get away with half of it if he wasn’t attractive, you’re sure of it.

Because he is. Attractive. They all are, and he’s no exception. He checks all of the boxes annoyingly well. The long hair, the signature smirk, the little silver barbell on a tongue that he seems all too happy to flash at a moment’s notice. Too bad he seems like one of those pretentious, tortured artist types that take themselves way too seriously. That’s never done it for you.

Jeongguk is the one singing Yoongi’s words, and he might as well be Korea’s sweetheart—if it weren’t for all the tattoos. He conveys the message of Yoongi’s songs exactly as intended, but he doesn’t have to act like an egotistical gatekeeper to do it.

Maybe it’s a preference on your part. You’ve always had a thing for sweetness.

★ ★ ★

After the concert, you’re ushered off of the balcony by one of the band’s security guards. It’s the same guy who escorted you up when you arrived, and you note to yourself that he’s very polite. Eunwoo, according to his nametag.

It tracks, given Burn The Stage’s reputation for making sure the women at their concerts feel comfortable in the crowd. You’ve heard stories about them stopping mid-song to have handsy men kicked out, and it’s nice to know their commitment extends to the people they employ for themselves.

Eunwoo offers you his hand palm-up as you descend down the balcony stairs, and you take it with a grateful smile. You’re feeling wobbly in these shoes, and the drinks you’ve downed since your arrival aren’t helping matters. Even with the assistance, you still feel like a baby giraffe as you step down, but thanks to Eunwoo, you don’t eat shit.

Eunwoo dutifully guides you backstage, to a grimy, graffitied hallway housing the dressing rooms for Wasteland’s talent of the night. Jeongguk waits outside of one of them, guzzling down a bottle of water as a female staff member dabs sweat off of his forehead with a pristine white towel. She’s only there for a moment before slipping back through the dressing room door. Finally noticing your approach, Jeongguk turns his head and grins at you, and you feel your nerves ebb away instantly. He’s good at that.

As you get closer to Jeongguk, you turn to smile and nod at Eunwoo in thanks. He smiles back politely, wordlessly falling back to give you some privacy.

“Daaaamn, YN-ah,” Jeongguk says, whistling lowly as you reach him. “You’re going to cause a bloodbath in there.” He nods his head towards the dressing room door, and you roll your eyes despite the heat building in your cheeks.

“I know, I know,” you say, smoothing your hands over your dress. “It’s not exactly a meet-the-family outfit, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You look hot,” he says, grabbing your hand and making you do a spin, forcing a surprised laugh out of you as you try not to trip over yourself. Jeongguk keeps you steady, though, with a hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, although you’re sure your face gives away how terrified you are of what awaits you on the other side of the door. “Maybe you should’ve picked an actress for this, though.”

“I trust you,” he says softly, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s not too late to back out, though. I’ll understand…”

You believe him, of course. Those doe eyes don’t lie, and even so, he’s already told you over and over how bad he feels for asking this of you. But you don’t want to back out. Jeongguk has given you so much since you’ve met—it’s only right to try and repay him for it.

“I want to do this,” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand on your shoulder. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to pull it off.”

“You will,” Jeongguk says, smiling down at you warmly. “Don’t sweat it too much, okay? We’ve got this. It’s not like I have to pretend to like you.”

Right. You wish Jeongguk’s words did what they were meant to and instilled some kind of confidence in you, but what they actually do is make your chest ache uncomfortably. Pull yourself together, you think. Now’s not the time.

You smile good-naturedly, hoping Jeongguk doesn’t notice the way it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” you mumble.

“That’s the spirit!” he laughs, sliding the hand on your shoulder around to the other one so his arm is slung around you. You hate the way your heart flutters, despite the fact that you’d prepared for this. Dumb bitch.

Jeongguk cracks the dressing room door open just enough to ensure that all of the men inside are decent, and then he’s guiding you inside, your hands flying down to smooth your dress over again, just in case. 

The dressing room is bustling with more people than you expected, people you recognize from the balcony and staff alike. There’s a fast-paced rock song playing over a bluetooth speaker, almost loud enough to drown out the chatter. 

Everyone seems to be in celebration mode after the last show of the tour. There’s a large sheet cake on a cart in the middle of the room emblazoned with the band members’ faces in frosting, plastic champagne flutes littered around the room in varying states of fullness. Judging by the bottle in his hand and the way staff members wipe at his face fussily, it seems like Taehyung took the liberty of pouring champagne over his head to cool off.

You’re used to having lots of eyes on you—it comes with the job—but something about the way Jeongguk’s bandmates immediately stop what they’re doing and take notice of your presence startles you, puts you on edge.

“Jeonggukie! You missed the cake,” Jimin calls, standing up from where he sat on the couch. He holds out a slice of the sheet cake to Jeongguk, tilting his head at you as he approaches. “Where do I know you from?”

Jeongguk removes his arm from your shoulders to take the plate, snorting at the image of his decapitated cake-head staring up at him. “Hyungs,” he says, grabbing a plastic fork and digging into the slice. “This is YLN YN.”

“Oh, we’ve met before! The model, right?” Taehyung pipes up from where he’s still being wiped down, and you nod politely. “I saw your Innisfree campaign last month. I couldn’t remember whether your skin was really that nice in person.”

You watch as he extricates himself from the staff, ignoring their protests as he walks away from them.

Taehyung gets close to you, close enough to inspect your pores like he clearly intends to, and you fight the urge to instantly recoil. Jeongguk seems too busy stuffing his face with cake to interfere, and you want to make a good first impression. So much for your personal bubble.

“It is,” he says, nodding sagely to himself.

“Th-thank you?” you stammer. Beside you, Jeongguk finally tunes back in.

“Jeez, hyung,” he says around a mouthful of cake. He chews for a moment, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Let her breathe.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says sheepishly, backing out of your personal space, and you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, shaking your head.

“It’s fine,” you say, mustering a polite smile. 

You note that despite his initial (albeit subtle) acknowledgement of your existence when you walked in the door, Yoongi now seems entirely disinterested in interacting with you. He hasn’t moved from where he’s planted on the couch, focused intently on strumming his guitar. How he can even hear what he’s playing over the noise is beyond you. It’s not even plugged into an amp. 

You’d be a little annoyed that he hasn’t even bothered to greet you, but you reason that he must be pretty worn out from all of the fanfare surrounding the show tonight. Introvert recognizes introvert. You try not to take it personally.

“Do you know Jeongguk-ah well?” Jimin asks, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes bounce between you and his bandmate. He seems to be putting the pieces together, so you glance at Jeongguk, wordlessly passing the question his way.

Thankfully, Jeongguk seems to get the hint. He tosses his plate in the nearest trash can before sliding over to you again, his arm slipping around your waist easily, betraying nothing.

“Hyungs,” he starts, glancing at you and nodding once. Let the show begin. “YN-ah is actually, um… my girlfriend.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi sit up. That got his attention, it seems. 

A hush falls over the room, even the eyes of the staff members within earshot widening in response to Jeongguk’s announcement. Oh shit, you think. Please let this go well.

“Since when?” Taehyung asks, curiosity piqued. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t seem upset by the new information. At least, not as far as you can tell.

“Well, um,” Jeongguk starts, tonguing nervously at his lip ring. He pulls you closer so you’re practically curled against his chest now, and you silently pray that the way you’re looking at him reads as sweet and not like you’re about to jump out of your skin. “It’s actually been a few months now… Since right before the tour, actually.”

“Right before the tour?” Jimin asks, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion. “So you’ve been doing long distance?”

Jeongguk glances at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it was bad timing on my part,” he says, his eyes fixed on yours. Damn. If he didn’t have such great pipes, you’d say he should’ve gone into acting. He’s male lead material. “I just couldn’t leave without telling her how I felt.”

You wish that you could do or say literally anything useful instead of just clinging to Jeongguk’s side like a barnacle. This is supposed to be a joint effort, but you feel frozen in place, unable to find your voice. It’s a good thing Jeongguk seems to be pulling it off all on his own.

“So cute,” Taehyung coos, bumping his shoulder against Jimin’s conspiratorially. “Our Jeonggukie’s all grown up and in love.”

“He’s always been a romantic,” Jimin joins in, miming at wiping fake tears as if he’s a proud parent. He reaches out and grabs your hands, startling you. “Please take care of him.”

“Hyuuuungs,” Jeongguk whines, tearing his arm away from you to whack Jimin and Taehyung on their heads simultaneously. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Doubtful,” Yoongi says from where he’s still seated on the couch. Oh, so he does speak. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all night. It’s low, raspier in person than in the videos you’ve seen online. His words are directed at Jeongguk, but when you turn your head to look at him you find that his gaze is fixed on you. Your pulse spikes at the discovery. “I don’t think anything could scare her away from you, Guk-ah.”

The words themselves are innocuous, even supportive, but something about the way he says them makes your gut twist. Nobody else seems put off by it, but you can tell something’s not right. You have to say something, to open your mouth and speak. You have to pull this off, for Jeongguk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, forcing a smile. You manage to tear your gaze away from Yoongi, looking back at Jeongguk. He’s grinning down at you, and it’s real, even if the pretense of it isn’t. Your smile becomes a little less forced in return.

★ ★ ★

Jimin and Taehyung are insistent that you stick around and celebrate for a while, so you do. You end up enjoying yourself, despite the weird moment with Yoongi. 

Jimin and Taehyung are fun to be around, just like Jeongguk said they would be, although conversation between the three of them becomes a little hard for you to follow sometimes. They just talk so fast. 

They ask you questions about your job, your friends, your family. They also tease Jeongguk relentlessly in front of you and seem all too thrilled to find out that you’re their noona. You find it surprising how easily you open up to them, but it just… happens. Just like it did with Jeongguk when you first met.

You relax enough to convince yourself that your perceived pointed nature of Yoongi’s words earlier was all in your head. Surely, he couldn’t have a problem with you when he doesn’t even know you. Jeongguk told you himself that Yoongi’s a quiet guy. Maybe that was his own way of telling you he approves of you. He hasn’t said or done anything since to make you think otherwise. Granted, he hasn’t said or done anything, period.

Once he arrives, you meet Namjoon, Burn The Stage’s manager. Jeongguk told you a little bit about him, but it was mostly just thinly-veiled thirsting. Now you see why.

He clarifies right off the bat that he already knows who you are, which saves you the anxiety of having to go through the whole routine again, and then he apologizes for being late.

“I was talking to reporters. I wanted the guys to be able to celebrate without having to do any interviews,” he explains as he shakes your hand with a dimpled smile. Damn. Yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk one bit.

After a while, the champagne catches up with you and you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The staff member that was dabbing Jeongguk’s sweat earlier—Minji, you learn—directs you out of the dressing room and to the nearest women’s bathroom further down the hallway. 

You try to make it as quick as possible, much tipsier than you thought and all the more unstable in these shoes because of it. After one last check of your hair and makeup in the mirror, you make your exit, focusing down at your feet as you go.

Unfortunately, you run headfirst into someone’s chest in the process. Hands come up to grab your elbows, steadying you before you fall flat on your face. For a second, you think maybe Minji had been waiting to escort you back to the dressing room, but these are not a woman’s hands holding you up. Wait a second, you think. You definitely saw these ring-clad fingers displayed on a huge screen earlier. Strumming at a guitar, perhaps?

In a moment of amazing mental clarity on your part considering the state you’re in, you realize that these are Min Yoongi’s hands, and your head snaps up to look up at him.

“Yoongi-ssi! I’m so sorry!” You quickly right yourself to the best of your ability, pressing your hand to the wall next to you for support.

Once he’s sure you can hold yourself up without his help, Yoongi instantly retracts his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should’ve been looking where I was going,” you add, doing your best to bow in apology without losing your balance again.

Yoongi tilts his head at you as if he’s assessing you, his gaze inscrutable. Man, for a lyricist this guy isn’t big on words. You’re just about to politely say goodbye and head back to the dressing room when he finally speaks.

“I’ve spent the past hour trying to figure out what your angle could possibly be, but I’m coming up short.”

Um. What?

“Huh?” you manage, blinking at Yoongi like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

“It’s not like your career’s in any trouble. Nobody thinks you're Korea’s angel or anything, but your shit reputation hasn’t stopped you from getting brand deals,” Yoongi continues, scoffing to himself. “Are you just bored? Is this what you do to amuse yourself?”

Uh oh. He knows. He knows for sure, and even worse, he thinks that you’re the mastermind.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, forcing your voice to remain level. You don’t even try to defend your reputation. It’s not like he’s wrong. 

“Right,” Yoongi says, leaning in a little closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Well, a word of advice. If you want people to buy that you’re really in love with Jeongguk, you could try to look less like you’re going to throw up when he touches you.”

FUCK. You thought you pulled it off. You thought you pulled it off, and now here’s Jeongguk’s goddamn hero telling you point-blank that you didn’t. You wrack your brain trying to think of anything you could possibly say to defend yourself, to get this guy off your ass, because this cannot be your fault. You’d never forgive yourself.

“I—”

“Or,” Yoongi starts, cutting you off. “You could just cut the bullshit and leave Jeongguk alone.” He pauses, rubbing his chin as if he’s pretending to think about it and then nodding once. “Yeah, let’s go with that one.”

Jesus Christ he’s a piece of work. You feel your fists clench at your sides, your nails digging painfully into your palms. You just got your nails done, and there’s a strong possibility you’ll draw blood, but it’s all you can do not to strangle this asshole right here and leave Burn The Stage without a guitarist.

“Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your words dripping with fake politeness. Fuck this guy, actually. “I don’t know what I’ve done to give you such a bad impression of me, but I assure you that Jeongguk and I are very much in love.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t buy it?” Yoongi asks, voice tinged with impatience. “You may have everyone else in that room fooled, but not me, and if you hurt Jeongguk I can guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap. “Again, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to make you think so poorly of me, but I meant what I said in there. I’m not going anywhere.”

You need to remove yourself from this interaction right now before you do something stupid like burst into tears. You take the opportunity to push past Yoongi before he gets a chance to say anything else, making sure to essentially shoulder check him in the process because again, fuck this guy.

You stalk down the hallway, feeling much more sober now. It’s as if all of the alcohol got forcibly drained from your system in the face of total fucking disaster, and you’re honestly thankful for it, because the last thing you need is this asshole seeing you actually fall.

For a moment, you’re fooled into thinking you’d successfully ended the conversation, but of course he needs the last word.

“I know more about you than you think, dollface.”

Dollface? The fuck?

You chance a glance behind you and you immediately regret it. Yoongi leans against the wall where you left him, an amused smirk spread over his face, and the sight immediately fills you with dread, a type of primal panic you haven’t felt in four years flooding your senses.

He doesn’t… He couldn’t know about that. There’s no possible way. Jeongguk doesn’t even know about that. Nobody does, because you’ve done everything in your meager power to keep it that way.

You whip your head back around to face front, your heels clacking on the crusty linoleum beneath them as you continue down the hallway. Don’t look back, you think. He doesn’t know. 

You’re thankful that you brought your bag with you to the bathroom, because you’re very much not in the mood for a party now. Once you’re safely outside, you call your car and send a text to Jeongguk explaining your sudden escape. You felt sick, you tell him. 

It’s not like it’s a lie. 

Yoongi loves being on stage.

Over the past few years, there’s been a noticeable change in his demeanor. He’s become passive, apathetic to the normal day-to-day that comes with being a celebrity. Nothing really wows him anymore.

He remembers the way he reacted to the accommodations the band received when they first got signed. He was way too scared to ask for things at first, but the label gave it all to him anyway.

For instance, Yoongi’s always been particular about his stationery. The first time he filled a notebook after getting signed, he didn’t even think to consider it a company expense. Why would he? He was fully capable of buying his own shit, even if he had to save up for it. Sure, every time he had to write a lyric down on the back of a receipt his eye would twitch, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.

But the label guys noticed. Before he even had a chance to buy his next batch of notebooks and pens, he was sat down in a spacious meeting room and asked point-blank what he needed. When Yoongi gave them specifics—Leuchtturm 1917 unlined hardcover pocket journals and a fuckton of Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pens—they didn’t even bat an eye. When he—rightfully—warned them that he might strangle someone if he’s handed a gel pen instead of a ballpoint, they just assured him that wouldn’t happen.

Ever since then, there’s been an endless supply of exactly what he needs, always within reach. He’s still grateful for that, of course, because he goes through those fuckers fast. But it’s just a fact of his life now. It’s not special to get his fucking Leuchtturms anymore, not when he could douse his entire supply with gasoline and burn it on a whim and still have a fresh one in his hand within mere minutes.

And it’s not just journals and pens.

Namjoon is the band’s representative. Yoongi picked him personally long before there was any contract, or even hope for one, and if everything were to go to shit tomorrow, Namjoon would still be there. But after the single from their second album charted on the Billboard Hot 100, a label-equivalent to Namjoon was hired, as if anybody could ever be equivalent to Namjoon. Park Hyunseok. Park Hyunseok, whose sole duty is to buzz around Yoongi and his bandmates like a pesky fly and “make sure they’re happy.” They quite literally want for nothing.

Yoongi remembers when his skin used to buzz with the emotions simmering just under the surface. He was fiery in his youth, pissed off and ready to prove a point. He felt everything strongly, fully.

Not so much these days. Anger is only marketable for so long, or so he’s been told.

For the past year, Yoongi’s felt numb to the world. And he’s dealt with it, of course. That’s what he does. The album did great, the tour sold out, the boys are happy. That’s really all that matters. He just doesn’t know how he’s going to write another fucking album if he’s got nothing to write about anymore.

Still, he loves being on stage. There’s nothing like it. It never gets old, never gets boring. He still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling of stepping onstage and feeling a crowd scream his name, scream his lyrics right back at him. Lyrics to songs that he wrote in his shoebox apartment when he was eighteen and it felt like nobody gave a fuck about him. Funny how things change.

Nobody can take that feeling away from him, even if they’ve taken all the other ones.

It’s been a good night. It feels good to be back in Seoul after being away for months, feels even better to be on this particular stage again. Yoongi always feels keyed up after a good show, itching to do something with all of the energy thrumming through his body, and tonight is no different. He’s almost giddy with the opportunity to celebrate this tour with his bandmates and Namjoon and then go home and crash. Home. Fuck, it’s a good night. He has a hot date with his king size bed.

But then you.

It’s been years since you’ve even been a thought in Yoongi’s brain, and he liked it that way. Unfortunately, it’s apparently true what they say: all good things must come to an end.

Yoongi sees right through you. He's met so many of your type in his life that even if he hadn’t met you before he would’ve been able to sniff you out the second you walked backstage. Users. Social climbers. The bored and braindead looking for their next toy. The exact kind of person he’s been trying to protect Jeongguk from this whole time, and now you’re on his arm. 

And whatever, a hookup is one thing. Yoongi frankly doesn’t give a fuck where Jeongguk decides to stick his dick. The less he knows the better on that front. But a relationship? No, it isn’t real. Yoongi knows that much. Maybe it is for Jeongguk, but not for you. He's never even heard Jeongguk, hopeless romantic extraordinaire, talk about you.

Jeongguk introduces you as his girlfriend, and suddenly it’s like Yoongi’s watching a car crash in slow motion. He prays that he’s not alone, that Jimin and Taehyung have caught on to your piss-poor acting skills—seriously, you look like you’re about to pass out—but it looks like Yoongi’s entirely alone on this one. You have them wrapped around your little finger with minimal effort. He has a feeling that comes as naturally to you as breathing.

Of course, Yoongi has the added displeasure of having met you before, way back when. When you had the chance to be somebody, before you pissed it away, to what? To pout in front of a camera for a living? He thought he’d run out of ways to be wrong about you four years ago, but clearly you just can’t help yourself.

And of course you don’t remember him. Why would you?

Yoongi knows Jeongguk better than anybody. He also knows that thing people say about teenagers is true. If you tell them not to do something, they’ll only want to do it more. Jeongguk may be a grown man now, but he’s stubborn as fuck, and he never grew out of that. If he goes to Jeongguk and flat-out tells him that his girlfriend is a piece of human garbage, Jeongguk will only date her harder.

He tries to control the infection at the source by confronting you directly, but it’s clear the fire that he thought you lacked is, in fact, there, if only to piss Yoongi off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

Okay.

If that’s how you want to play, Yoongi can fucking play. He’s going to make you wish you’d left Jeongguk alone when he gave you the chance.

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[prodagustd]

the road not taken 02 | myg

part two: get up and fall again

Summary: You could count two times when you thought you got over Yoongi and then realized you were wrong (or maybe three times?)

< part one | part three>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension? lmao, use of drugs (just weed), flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 11k

—a/note: I took the longest time to write this but I'm back!! I'm so happy to finally post this !! fun fact: while I was writing this I listened to let the light in by lana del rey on loop!! and ofc, last night by the strokes !! hope you like it, as always, you're welcomed to discuss this part in my asks. 🥰

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago. 

Three weeks before New Year's Eve. 

Ever since you could remember you understood one thing that was going to define the first years of your life: you weren’t your brother. It wasn’t difficult to understand, but it was difficult to remember. 

There was a four year gap between Simon and you, and an abyss between who he was and who you were that people didn’t seem to understand. Even if you had no interest in it, just the idea of competing with the image of your brother was completely pointless; he was the first son of a first daughter, the first grandson, the perfect portrait of your mother’s face, while you were the last granddaughter, the one who came at the wrong time, the one whose eyes could only resemble the sad ghost of your father. 

You spent your preteen years witnessing how your aunts and your grandmother expected you to be the same, as if you were supposed to be as charming or as funny as him, despite the clear evidence that you were a completely different person. Maybe it was the dark clothes, or the black eyeliner you wore everyday, maybe your lack of social skills and the bad attitude in the mornings or just the desperate attempt to be different, while he was the cool sibling, you were seen as the weird one. 

Maybe growing up with that label taped to your forehead would have made you resent him, you didn’t remember when or how, but you managed to separate him from all that bullshit. You loved Simon not just because you were attached to the hip since you were born, but because he was one of the few people who never expected anything from you but to be yourself. He always encouraged you to wear whatever clothes you wanted and listen to whatever screaming rock band you liked at the moment even if he didn’t understand any of it.  And after all it wasn’t his fault that he was tall and handsome and good at basketball, it wasn’t his fault that you couldn’t and didn’t want to be a female version of him. You decided to embrace the difference. You weren’t your brother, and because of that you had to fight your way to find your own self. 

When you found The Alley, or as Yoongi called it, the theater near the park with the weird fountains, you felt it clicked for you. It wasn’t just your theater classes, it was a place filled with people just like you, people who understood you. You didn’t have to explain your jokes there, you didn’t have to think twice before speaking, the image of your brother wasn’t hovering over you when people saw you, it was nice.

For the first time you were part of a community, you spent more time in The Alley than in your home, you knew all the bands who came to practice at the place, you knew the lady who cooked pizza for all the movie nights, you were friends with the guy who sold the tickets and the girl who worked at the bar. You spent all your summers volunteering with your friends, making popcorn, accommodating the seats, writing the plays you were going to perform when October came, it was part of you. 

But when you had to leave for college you knew you had to leave everything behind. It’s been a long time since you outright refused to feel something remotely close to nostalgia. You refused to live evoking memories, to think that a fleeting good moment could make up for all the bad ones. It’s been a long time since you outright refused to live in the past, but tonight seemed to be an exception. 

When your feet turned the corner of the park and your eyes found the Christmas Lights decorating the old theater on the other side of the street, you were hit by a wave of something you knew you shouldn’t feel, something close to relief. A feeling you always seemed to run away from. 

“Should we buy popcorn?” Yoongi’s soft voice made you come out of your trance. You looked at him, waiting for the traffic light to turn red so you could cross the street. 

“We need to get in line to secure our seats first.” You explained to him, feeling a rush of nervousness washing down your body. When you had your last day at The Alley you said goodbye to everyone and never made plans to come back, this was unexpected.

“But what if popcorn runs out?” He asked, as if that could be a possible scenario. “The line isn’t even that long.”

He pointed to the short line at the entrance, which was formed by just five people. 

“Popcorn is not going to run out.” You rolled your eyes. “And even if the line is not long, we still need to get the best seats, they are not numbered.” 

Yoongi stood in his place, understanding your logic, but at the same time wondering how did you know that the seats weren’t numbered in the first place. 

He frowned “How did you know?” He asked. You turned to him, looking a bit confused, but then, a green light lit up his face, the traffic light allowing you to cross the street. You grabbed his hand, dragging him with you. 

“Hurry up!” You exclaimed, quickly crossing the street to reach the end of the line.

Yoongi ran after you, but didn’t demand the answer of his question when you reached the end of the line. It was like both of you agreed not to disrupt one of those rare good moments when you didn’t have a frown on your face, it was so hard to grasp it that he decided to do whatever you said, he even let you make fun of him when you realized he was wearing a dress white shirt under his coat, just for the sake of keeping a smile on your face. 

You touched the collar of his shirt, tugging from it just to annoy him. 

“Ouch!” He complained, but didn’t do anything to pull away from you. 

“My mom is probably thrilled that I’m hanging out with you.” You mentioned, fixing the collar and smoothing the fabric with your fingers like you weren’t the one who messed it up. “I bet she thinks that if I spend enough time with you, you’ll turn me into a lawyer like you.” 

Yoongi scoffed, believing that impossible “I’m not a lawyer yet.” He said, and you knew that, but he wasn’t far from it. “But even if I was, I couldn’t turn you into one.” 

“Of course not, we can’t both be lawyers.” You murmured, leaning on the wall behind you. “Besides, I couldn't be a lawyer… I’ve never learned to lie.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, waiting for his reaction, but he just rolled his eyes, sighing. 

“You’re mean…” He hissed. 

But Yoongi seemed to be fine with it, he took all your mean jokes about lawyers like a bullet, accepting his destiny, accepting how different both of you were. 

In times like these, it hurt a bit to notice how kind he was, from the tip of his red nose to the palms of his rough hands, kindness was all he had to offer. The contrast of how hard you struggled to be nice to how easy it was for him was palpable, Yoongi smiled to the skinny teenage boy who checked your tickets and the girl who gave away flyers advertising the next movie night the following weekend and never forgot to say thank you, while you had to constantly remind yourself not to curse every person who crossed your way, at least not out loud. 

Once you were inside the place you forced yourself to shake those thoughts off your head, determined to drag Yoongi across the principal hall in order to get your seats without looking back. 

There were multiple kinds of chairs at the theater, it was one of the things that made it so special. The Alley was never built to be a theater, it was a big old house bought by a group of friends years and years ago. They tore up a few walls and built it to be a place to watch movies, paint, do theater, play music or write poetry. On movie nights they put together different chairs and a projector and it suddenly turned into a cinema. 

You were sure Yoongi didn’t know any of this, it was the first time he put foot in this place, but you, who had plenty of experience, knew where the best seats were. 

The best seats were located in the middle of the room, it was a couple of recycled red cinema chairs. You remembered that Sid, one of the owners of the place, told you that he got them at an auction and that they were vintage, but to you they just looked old and dusty at the time. Of course over time you realized that they were the best place to be, they were located just in the perfect place and they were the most comfortable, but they were only two sets of four chairs, so if you didn’t hurry up you would have ended up at the back of the room sitting on some bleachers. 

Yoongi didn’t understand why you were in a rush to get there, but you were right, you got the best seats. 

“Now, stay here.” You told him “I’m coming back with popcorn.” 

You thought it was only right that if he bought the tickets, you were supposed to buy popcorn and drinks. But then again, you weren’t supposed to think of this as a date at all. 

You rushed to the entry of the room, turning on the corner near the bar and saw the stand of popcorn. As you stood in the line, you realized you didn’t notice how cold it was outside until you felt how warm the place was inside. You guessed that the hurry to get to the seats didn’t give room to think about it at all. 

Almost four years went by and it was like time didn’t pass at all inside these walls. Things in your hometown never changed, and sometimes you liked it that way, but most of the time it was the main reason why you wanted to run away from it. Your mom always said you were a creature of metamorphosis, always changing, and you accepted the title for a while, but now you were wondering if your need to morph just meant that you could never be truly happy with any of the paths that you chose for yourself. 

In no time you bought the popcorn and came back to your seat, a little displeased with the thought, but glad that you didn’t find anyone who could recognize you. You were safe for now, perhaps you could watch the movie and come back home going unnoticed. 

But of course things never worked in the way you wanted. 

“Sorry, excuse me.” You murmured, managing to carry two cups filled with coke and a bucket of popcorn, you watched your step carefully, trying not to step on other people. You raised your gaze, focusing on reaching the empty seat next to Yoongi, who was looking at his phone. 

You took a seat next to him, handing him the drink. He murmured a small ‘thank you’, but didn’t look at you. “What are you doing?” You asked him, burying a finger on the side of his torso, making him jump in surprise.

“I’m trying to prove you wrong, look…” He replied, showing the screen of his phone to you. You narrowed your eyes, trying to focus your gaze on whatever he was showing to you, a website filled with reviews of Home Alone 2. “It has good reviews.”

You snatched the phone off his hands, observing the preview photo and the poster of, what it seemed to be, Yoongi’s favorite movie. You scrolled for a couple seconds, checking if what he said was true. “Three stars' average reviews is not good.” You informed him, but now he looked offended. 

“Three stars is good for a Christmas movie, what are you talking about?” He insisted. 

“What are you talking about? The first one has five stars’ average reviews, if you settle for bad Christmas movies, that’s on you.” You teased him, giving him his phone back. 

He shook his head, scoffing “I can’t believe you think Home Alone 2 is a bad Christmas movie, it has that scene with the pigeon lady!” He kept insisting. 

“Which scene?” You asked, but by doing that, you gave yourself away. 

“What do you mean which scene?” He asked, confused. You opened your mouth, wanting to defend yourself, but then he gasped. “God, Pinky. You have never watched Home Alone 2, haven’t you? 

Your mouth hung open, starting to laugh “I-... I just-”

“No, I can’t believe it.” He laughed, shaking his head in disapproval “You never watched it.”

“I’ve watched the beginning, okay?” You tried to explain. “And I think it was enough for me to decide if it was a good movie or not.”

“Bullshit.” Yoongi said, now a bit offended that you talked shit about a movie that you didn’t even finish.“You can’t decide that if you didn’t even watch the scene with the pigeon lady.”

You laughed even harder, covering your mouth with the palm of your hand. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

He opened his eyes widely. “Of course you don’t, you didn’t watch the movie!” He exclaimed “You just have to stop pretending to be a film critic to enjoy some movies, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, the fact that I’m here means that I’m willing to try.”

The fact that you were here meant you were irremediably in love with him, a voice in your head reminded you of that, and maybe it was the same thing. 

“For me?” He teased you, making you close your eyes for a split second. That didn’t help at all. 

You sank into your seat, “For you, I guess.”

And that could've been the beginning of the end of the night. You and Yoongi watching the movie and coming back home before it was too late and laying in bed remembering every word he said, like they meant something else, before falling asleep.

But nothing could ever be that simple. 

“You!” A high pitched voice interrupted the silence. You raised your gaze, startled. Your eyes found a redhead girl turned around in the seat in front of you, pointing her finger at you with a big smile decorating her bright red lips.  “I knew I recognized that voice from somewhere!”

You felt your stomach drop.

Minnie. 

“Oh, God, Minnie.” You breathed out. “You scared me!”

Perhaps on the way here you prayed so hard not to see somebody you knew tonight  that whoever that was up there in the sky heard you, but instead of helping you, decided to laugh at you in your face, because sitting directly in front of you was Minnie, one of your closest partners during your theater days. 

And the only person who you ever told about Yoongi. 

“Do I look that old?” She giggled, cupping her face in her palms “It’s only been a few years, but I feel like I haven’t seen you in decades!”

 “Yes…I mean, no!” You pressed your lips together, crossing looks with Yoongi, who looked at you with curious eyes. “I just didn't expect to see you here.”

“Me?” Minnie scrunched her nose, laughing “I didn’t expect to see you, what are you doing here?”

“Me?” You nervously laughed. “I was in town and I- we came to see the movie…” You managed to explain, trying to act as normal as possible, but you were sure that your shaking eyes, jumping from Yoongi’s face to Minnie’s, were giving you away. “This is Yoongi, by the way. And this is Minnie, a friend.” You introduced both of them. 

If any of them realized how nervous you were, they didn’t say a thing. 

Minnie, as expressive as she was, opened her eyes wide open, surprised. 

“Oh, Yoongi, Yoongi?” She asked, emphasizing every vowel of his name.

“Is there another Yoongi?” Yoongi laughed, turning his head to see you. 

You wanted to vomit. 

“Mmm, not that I know of!” She smiled, offering her hand for him to shake. “Nice to finally meet you, Yoongi-Yoongi.” Yoongi took her hand, shaking it three times right in front of your petrified face. “I heard a lot of things about you back in the day.”

Minnie winked at you in a very exaggerated manner, instantly making you freeze in your place. Now you were a hundred percent sure that you were about to vomit, but maybe that would be an amazing scenario for you, you would have to run away to the closest bathroom and wouldn’t have to be in the presence of this interaction.

“Oh, really?” Yoongi smiled, displaying his gummy smile. “What things?”

“You know, all kinds of things.” She raised her eyebrows, clearly amused with the look on your face, that begged her to please shut up. 

“Me and Minnie- we used to come here a lot when we were in high school.” You intervened in the conversation, trying to change the subject as soon as you could without thinking much. 

“That’s right, we were pretty close!” She reminisced “We were always paired up together.”

“Paired up in what?” Yoongi asked, naturally. 

“Theater.” She explained without giving you much time to think about saying something else. “Didn’t you know that your girl had her beginnings here, at The Alley?”

You gulped, and Yoongi, for the first time during the night, seemed to read you just right. He tilted his head, surprised “Well, no. She didn’t say anything.”

“Really?” She frowned, not understanding why, but Yoongi immediately got it. 

“It was a long time ago…” You trailed off, trying hard not to make it seem like a big deal, like it was just a hobby you had when you were a teenager, but Yoongi knew you. He could see it in your eyes, the same look you had when Simon caught you using his legos, when you had to tell your mom you got suspended for getting in a fight in high school, the same look you had when you were caught. It was clear to him that you didn’t want him to see that part of you, whatever it was.

“I mean, she’s always been pretty mysterious, hasn’t she?” Minnie said “It takes a while to figure her out, you’ll get there.”

“I think I’m close enough, aren’t I?” His answer was smooth, almost annoying you. He playfully squeezed your knee and you wished he hadn't done it, because your old friend was now looking at you with stars in her eyes full of excitement. It had been almost four years since you had a proper talk with Minnie, but despite the fact that little to nothing happened between you and the man next to you, you were sure she was convinced you were on a date right now. 

And perhaps it was not just his hand on your knee, maybe it was the fond look on his eyes too, seeking complicity in his jokes, but you were not going to go down that route tonight. You scoffed. “Not one bit.” You said, out of bitterness, because Yoongi knew you as well as your brother, perhaps his only flaws were being dumb and blind, but that came with being a man anyway. 

For your own good, the lights of the room flickered twice, meaning that the movie was about to start soon. “That means I should leave you alone, right?” Minnie sighed,  “But it’s really nice to see you here after so long, sweetheart.” 

You nodded, offering her a soft smile, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty. It was in Minnie’s nature to always offer love and kindness to everyone, but it was hard to hold her gaze when she called you by that name, knowing that you didn’t deserve it. 

 “It’s nice to see you, too.” Was all you could say, despite it being a lie. 

In another universe you would’ve loved to see your old friend and feel something bigger than nostalgia, but you couldn’t, you felt obligated to reject the feeling. You couldn’t live in the fantasy of what could have been. 

She was about to turn around, but before she could do it, she raised one of her fingers, like she just remembered something. “By the way… Are you still doing theater?” She inquired.

You shrugged, shaking your head “Ummm… Not really…”

She pouted, disappointed. “That’s a shame, because… I don’t know, it’s crazy that I’m seeing you tonight. I know of someone who’s looking for someone just like you, if you were interested.” Her words lingered in the air, but the lights flickered again.  “But I’m guessing I should keep that for after the movie… And Yoongi!” She exclaimed, pointing at him “I’m glad that you finally stopped dating dumb girls, my friend right there was very popular around here. You’re very lucky.”

You almost gasped, immediately turning your head to Yoongi, who just scoffed amused. Before you could even breathe, your friend turned around exactly when the lights went off, starting the movie right away.

You held your breath for what felt to be an eternity, but in the darkness you saw a smirk tugging from Yoongi’s lips, being followed by an outburst of laughter. The sound of his quiet laugh made you freeze in your place, was he laughing at you?

You opened your mouth, trying to find an explanation for your friend’s comment, but he shook his head as if he was stopping you, clearly entertained by the shocking look on your face. “Oh, save it for later.” He whispered, brushing it off. 

You pressed your lips together, sinking in your seat as you observed him focusing on the movie, and you were supposed to do the same, but you couldn’t think of anything else. The only thing you could hope for was that he couldn’t see how red your face was, because you sure as hell could feel it. 

God, you wanted to die, but whoever put you through this whole thing knew that death could only be seen as kindness. 

How come that after years of quitting theater you were still being this dramatic? You didn’t know, but tonight death felt like a greater destiny than the embarrassment you felt. 

In situations like these, you remembered two specific times during the past seven years when you thought you got over Yoongi, but then you realized you failed miserably.

You evoked the memory of those two situations for a special reason, to teach you a lesson: you must not continue to engage with the man sitting next to you. There were three reasons for you to learn from this lesson, because otherwise:

It would hurt your mind. 

It would hurt your heart.

It would hurt your soul.

These seemed three perfectly logical reasons to learn the lesson, but you were never the best student. 

The first memory that always came to mind was the first time Yoongi and Simon came back home for Christmas after going to college. It had been six months since you decided to convince yourself that the last two years you spent being in love with him were just a fever, but when Yoongi walked in the room and you saw that he got a new haircut and pierced his ears, you thought that the plan “get over my brother’s best friend” would not work at all, at least not now. Maybe you could try the following year.

(Spoiler: the following year did not work either.)

The second time was last summer, a few months ago, when both of them came back for summer break and Yoongi invited you to some pool party. You were supposed to go with Simon, but at the last minute he ended up getting sick and told you two to go alone. There was a time when you believed that Simon worked as some kind of barrier between you and Yoongi, hanging out with them meant that now you were a group of three, it reminded you that the only reason you kept seeing Yoongi was because he was Simon’s best friend, nothing else. And when you and Yoongi were alone, well… It was different.

That night none of you were planning to get into the pool, it was a strange house full of strange people and it almost felt like you were crashing the party. You were wearing a black summer dress and Yoongi was wearing jeans, you only went for free alcohol and to check if someone had any weed, you thought you were safe. Of course every little effort you made trying not to think that way about him anymore was ruined when decided to take off his shirt, grab you by your hips and jump in the pool, dragging you with him. 

Needless to say, you were furious.  The only thought that crossed your mind was that neither of you had a change of clothes, but he didn’t care. When you got your head out of the water, you saw him laughing. 

You gasped “Fuck you!” You punched his arm, not caring that everyone around you was observing you, laughing because he did something cute.

He kept laughing “I’m sorry, you looked hot!” He defended himself, grabbing your arms to pull you closer under the water. 

“What!?” You shouted, fighting against his hold but wondering if you heard that right. 

“You looked like you needed a dip!” He clarified, shouting back. His lips stretched widely, showing you a white smile. You wished you could punch that cheeky expression off his face, but you were too busy trying not to sink into the water as he firmly gripped your waist, crashing your body against his bare chest. 

“You idiot, I can’t swim!” You whined, gripping his shoulders so you wouldn’t drown. 

He snickered, hugging you closer. “It’s fine, Pinky, I wouldn’t let you die in front of all these people.”

The moment you realized you had not gotten over Yoongi was not then, it was not when he took off his shirt either, and it was not when you saw him running his fingers through his wet hair, nor when you saw the drops of water dripping down his wide back, no. Not even when he wrapped his strong arms around your body or when he gripped your hips and lifted you up to seat you on the edge of the pool. You realized that you were still in love with Yoongi when he sat next to you, and when he realized that you were not playing, that you were really angry, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed your forehead, whispering “I’m sorry.” 

The heart clenching memory of the look on his face, the sound of his voice and the touch of his lips against your skin were enough to screw you up, but not enough to make you learn the lesson.

Now, sitting next to him, you began to think that you were finally losing your mind when you tried to focus on the movie for the first ten minutes, and then for the next thirty minutes, and the next fifty, but when an hour passed you found out, or you just remembered, that it was useless to focus on something else when Yoongi was by your side. 

You often forgot how impossible it was for you to ignore Yoongi’s presence, even in the most packed and loudest rooms, but the confirmation that you finally drove yourself insane was when you noticed that you just couldn’t ignore his arm laying next to yours in the shared armrest, or your hands touching when you reached to grab popcorn, and you certainly couldn’t ignore his fingers when they reached to play with the fabric of the hem of your sleeve. 

You carefully looked down to the arm rest, observing his fingers tugging the tiny piece of ruffle fabric at the end of your sleeve. He wasn’t trying to get your attention or to annoy you, it was something almost unconscious, a small gesture, very easy to miss, but it was enough for you to stop breathing for a moment. Now, it was impossible to ignore the warmth of his fingers slightly grazing over your wrist. 

You sighed deeply, feeling the failure sinking in your bones once again. The line between what you were supposed to feel and what you were actually feeling was always blurry, but this time seemed to be completely erased, and once again, you were the one to blame for thinking that this time seeing Yoongi could be any different. 

You were screwed up again. 

You could say you enjoyed the last part of the movie, at least the parts where you were zoning out enough to quiet your mind, but when the lights were turned on you remembered that your brain hated you.

Your eyes swept the place, observing the people around you clapping as the credits rolled down. 

“So?” His voice sneaked into the hustle and bustle of your head, making you turn to look at him, but your eyes focused on the almost empty bucket of popcorn on his lap. “Do you like it? I’ve never seen Home Alone on a big screen.”

You grabbed a handful of popcorn from the very bottom of the bucket. “I’ve seen it plenty of times on a big screen.” You said, stuffing your mouth with the food so you wouldn’t answer any of the questions you knew he was about to make, but the second those words left your mouth you realized you gave yourself away.

“Yeah, I imagine.” He scoffed, signaling with his head towards the empty seat where Minnie was sitting a few seconds ago. You were grateful that she disappeared the moment the movie ended so she wouldn’t hear this conversation. “I heard some of it just now.” You huffed, pretending to be tired of him and chewing long enough to prevent yourself from talking. “Is there anything else I should know? Apart from the fact that you have a secret twin who takes theater classes and has friends who are actually nice?”

The only thing that could come out of your mouth was something rude. “Oh, shut up.” You spat, looking at anything else except his face. 

Yoongi shifted on his seat with a shameless smirk decorating his face, getting closer to you. “Don’t! Don’t shut me up.” He laughed, casually grabbing your face between his fingers so you wouldn’t run away from his gaze. “I want to know all about that, like, were you really talking shit about me during high school?”

You frowned, remembering what Minnie said about Yoongi dating dumb girls. Of all the conclusions he could have drawn from that, was that the one he came up with?”

“I wasn’t… talking shit about you.” You wanted to explain “Have you considered that I was just really into gossiping?”

He snorted, “It’s the same thing.” 

“It’s not.” You denied. 

“So you were gossiping about me?” He asked “About the girls I dated?”

“C’mon, what about it?” You tried to dismiss as quickly as possible “I was like fourteen, and in my defense, you never had good taste in girls.” 

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, a bit offended “Why? You really think the girls I dated were dumb?” You bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress a laugh. “That’s not very feminist of you.”

You rolled your eyes “Oh shut up, what do you know about feminism?” You said. “Those were just… facts.”

“Yeah, I’m sure of that.” He scoffed “What I’m not so sure about is that thing your friend said… That I’m really lucky to be with you.” 

“Ignore her.” You tried to cut him, looking away so he wouldn’t notice how embarrassed you were.

“No, why?” He smiled, poking fun at you. “She said you were really popular, but I don’t get it. I don’t know a man who could stand your behavior for more than two hours. Besides me, of course.”

You could be offended by that, but it was the truth. 

“Well, they couldn't,” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “They just wanted me for my talent.”

“Let me doubt that.” He said “If you were so good, why did you never tell me?”

“Well, it was a secret” You confessed, there was no point in hiding now. “I didn’t want anyone to know, people would think it was dumb.” 

“And when did you care about what other people think?”

You sighed. All the time, you wanted to say, but you kept that for yourself. 

“I just... wanted it for myself, no one had to know.” You explained.

Yoongi waited a few seconds for you to say something else, but you weren’t willing to pour your heart to him just yet. Yes, when you found The Alley you discovered a part of yourself that was completely unique, but that didn’t mean you wanted to share it. It was for you only, and you were happy with that. 

“Well, Pinky.” He sighed, squeezing your knee like he always did. “Even if it was a secret… I’m telling you, you were pretty obvious.” 

“What do you mean?” You frowned, confused

 “I mean, you always liked High School Musical a little bit too much.” He explained as a mocking smirk tugged from the corners of his lips. “At first I thought it was just Zac Efron, but now it makes sense.”

You nudged his shoulder before the frown in your face disappeared into laughter. “High School Musical is the best movie ever, to be obsessed with it was just logical.” You tried to excuse yourself “That and, of course, Zac Efron.”

“I never thought you would have a thing for basketball players.” He muttered, trying to play nonchalant as his eyes wandered towards the corner of the room, circling back to your gaze. You realized he was expecting an answer for that. 

“Kind of.” You waved off, pretending to be laid back about it. “But only the ones who have this internal struggle about their father’s plans for their future and their unusual passion for musical comedy.”

He let out an amused snort. “Very specific, what a shame.”

You stared at him for a second, wondering what game he was trying to play now. 

You tried so hard to keep your face straight, to try to show him that you weren’t phased by any of his stupid jokes. You wanted to remind him that you weren’t like any of those girls who were charmed just by the sight of his eyes, you weren’t like those girls he stopped in the hallways just to make them giggle when you were in high school, you wanted to make clear that you were different — except that, of course, you weren’t. The moment he displayed that specific smirk, you committed the unforgivable crime of blushing. 

But he was quick to dismiss it, he always was. 

And you were obligated to forget about it. 

“So? Why did you leave it?” He inquired, “Were you that bad?” He ignored that the room was now almost empty. Maybe in another situation you would’ve taken advantage of that and told him it was time to go to avoid telling the truth, but why hide now? Maybe telling the truth wasn’t so bad. 

You smirked, rolling your eyes. “I was the best one in my group, you don’t even know.” 

“Yeah?” He moved closer to you with big eyes, showing you how curious he was.

“Of course, do you have any doubts?” 

“Well, yes, a few.” He teased “I’d have to see it for myself.”

“Sure, when they clear the stage I’ll do a demonstration just for you.” You joked, successfully making him laugh. 

“That would be an amazing way to avoid my question.” He pointed.

You felt your chest getting lighter, and if that hinted you that it meant something dangerous, you ignored it. 

“I wasn’t doing that.” You tried to defend yourself. 

“You do that all the time.” He reminded you, and he was right. You bit back a smile, darting him a look for exposing you. 

“Fine, then. I’ll be honest.” You surrendered, maybe Yoongi could convince you to jump off a cliff if he looked at you with those eyes. “I left it when I was finishing high school, I was about to leave for college and… I had to grow up, you know? I grew too attached to this place but I knew I couldn’t cling onto these things forever.”

“Can’t you?” He questioned “Didn’t you like to do it?”

“I mean, yes, but-”

“Then, why drop it?” He interrupted.

You breathed in, wishing that you could find the words to say it in a way that made sense, because you weren’t sure what was right or wrong anymore. 

“Maybe I was on an ego trip back then, I don’t know.” You admitted. “I thought I was genuinely good but I couldn’t do anything about it, like I was stuck here. I had to let it go, for me it’s all or nothing.”

Perhaps you weren’t talking only about theater now. Perhaps you were talking about everything, perhaps you were talking about him. And it was a bit harsh, but it was the truth, or what you decided to be the truth.  Yoongi took one hard look at you, as if he was expecting you to realize how dumb that sounded, but you already knew that, otherwise you wouldn’t be there right now, at home before Christmas because you dropped out of college. You didn’t even know if when you left for college that excuse made sense, you just knew that you were bitter and angry and if you couldn't follow your dreams, you didn’t want them at all. And if you couldn’t be with Yoongi, you couldn’t see him at all. 

You ripped the bandaid off, but three years later it exploded in your face.

“All or nothing?” He repeated, but you just nodded. “But did you try first? Because as far as I know you didn’t.”

You bitterly laughed,“Yeah, right” You got up from your seat, ready to leave “And who would’ve taken me seriously?”

He got up with you, blocking the way to stop you from getting out from the sea of chairs just yet. You raised your chin, finding his eyes. “I would have.” He casually mumbled, but his words echoed in your head, clenching your heart. 

You tried to search in your brain for something snarky to say, but you froze under his gaze. “And If I wouldn’t have…” He continued “If I were a complete prick who doesn’t care about you, you should’ve done it anyway. Even if your mom puts on a bad face.”

You wanted to stop him, to shut him up. But he was right, even if you didn’t need to hear that tonight. You loved your mom and you knew she didn’t expect anything from you but to be happy, she was just worried, you knew that, but you hated that she had to see you trip with your own decisions. 

“Have you ever tried to be wrong?” You asked him, pushing his chest with your palms. “Like, just once?” Walking past him, hearing his laugh behind you followed by his quick steps running after you. 

“Don’t be mad ‘cause I’m right.” He teased. 

“I’m not mad.” You said, walking towards the entrance, hearing music coming from the other room. “Just annoyed that you had to go to college and left me here making dumb decisions.” 

He smiled, happy that you decided to show a glimpse of love for him. “Do I need to remind you that you’re just twenty one and your life is not over?”

“Yes, maybe.” You said “Several times a day, please.”

You stood in the hall, attempting to put your coat back on, but he stopped you, stealing the piece of clothing away from you. “What are you doing?” He asked, smiling. “Don’t you know that we have to dance now?”

You widely opened your eyes, almost completely forgetting that. When you bought the tickets for movie nights, you were also invited to the afterparty that was held right after the movie ended, hence the loud music playing in the next room, the biggest one of the place. You didn’t think Yoongi would be interested in staying. 

“Do you want to dance?” You checked first. You didn’t know if you were interested in staying either. 

“C’mon, I have plenty of experience from frat parties.” He bragged, taking a few steps back towards the room where the music came from. 

You shook your head. “This isn’t like those parties you went to with Simon where they play Shape Of You every three songs” 

“Why would it be different?” He said, slightly offended. Yoongi kinda liked Shape Of You…  

You grabbed his hand, dragging him into the next room as you asked him something very important, “Yoongi, do you know who The Strokes are?”

After entering the room, Yoongi disappeared for a few moments to leave your coats in the cloakroom of the place, leaving you alone to collect your thoughts once again. When you first entered the place to watch the movie you couldn’t wait to leave, and now you were in a dark room under the red lights, feeling excited at the idea of dancing like you were a teenager again. It was time for you to understand that your life was already a mess, nothing was going to change if you stayed at The Alley dancing just for tonight.

When Yoongi came back you were quick to drag him towards the center of the dancefloor, right when the first chords of Last Nite by the Strokes began to resonate in the room, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of happiness running down your body. Yoongi looked at you funny, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. He didn’t expect that you, of all people, would be excited to dance. 

It turned out that Yoongi didn’t live under a rock, he did know who The Strokes were, but barely. You knew that he always preferred hip hop and rap, but the lack of interest he had for other genres surprised you. “I don’t know the song!” He shouted over the music 

“What about it?” You said, grabbing his hands to pull him closer. “You must dance anyway, or they’ll kick you out!”

The look of terror in Yoongi’s eyes made you laugh, but you didn’t pity him, he was the one who wanted to dance in the first place, even when both of you knew that he wasn’t the kind of person who dance at parties, he wasn’t the kind of person who danced at all. 

“How!?” He asked, ignoring the mass of people jumping around him. 

“Just do what I do!” You exclaimed, shaking your head side to side to the rhythm, making the strands of your hair hit your face, and his face too. Yoongi laughed, knowing then that if he didn’t dance he would look like an absolute loser. He was still hesitant to follow you, but when you began to jump, he slowly began to jump too, trying hard to shake his head the same way you were doing as he felt his ribcage shake from his laughter. 

You nodded your head, happily tapping your feet against the ground to the loud rhythm of the drums “Oh, baby I feel so down, oh, it turn’ me off” You sang to him, but he shook his head, disappointed that he didn’t know the lyrics and couldn’t sing the words back to you, but you didn’t care, you were happy enough watching him trying to copy your moves. 

You grabbed his hands, perhaps taking advantage of the situation to tangle his fingers with you, opening your arms with your hands still connected to his, shortening the distance. “I’m not a good dancer either.” You said, maybe way too close to his face. 

Yoongi scrunched his nose, giving you a half twirl to make your back crush against his chest, trapping you between his arms. “Are you saying I’m not a good dancer?” You felt his lips brushing against your cheek, making you shiver. 

You closed your eyes shut, trying to breathe in. “Not all!” You yelled, spinning out of his arms. “But no one’s watching.”

He took the liberty to slide his hands down your torso, gripping your waist and pulling you close to his body. “You are watching.” He said, like he was reminding you. 

“Then, impress me.” 

You were thankful that the sound of the music drowned the sound of your heart, who was threatening to run away from your chest in the exact moment he smiled at you, accepting the challenge. 

You couldn’t count the amount of times Yoongi made you spin in the room, like you were dancing a waltz, before you realized that neither of you were wearing clothes made for dancing, you were wearing a black long sleeve shirt and Yoongi was wearing that ridiculous white dress shirt that made him look like he came out of one of your dreams when he rolled up his sleeves.  As one song ended and another one started, he began to stop caring if he didn’t know the lyrics, it was fine as long as he followed you, but when your hands began to felt sweaty and you felt like you needed air, you decided it was time to leave, but not before you finished dancing Song 2 by Blur, because what other chance would you have to dance Song 2 by Blur with Yoongi? And what other chance would you have to watch him copy every move you made like you were an expert at dancing? And what other chance would you have to be alone with him without feeling like your heart was sinking? It was like the loud music didn’t allow you to feel anything else but joy, or maybe you were already high from all the people smoking weed around you, either way, you were happy. 

You didn’t want to began feeling overwhelmed, the most exciting thing that happened today, before Yoongi, was finding out that your mom’s boyfriend gave her a teddy bear that sang All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey when you pressed its paw, you could blame —or just thank him— for taking you out of your house. Your heart didn’t feel as heavy as it did at the beginning of the night, but you knew it was time to leave. 

As he waited at the door, you decided to look for your coats. There was a line of people waiting to leave theirs, when you were just trying to leave the place. You expected to get in line, wait a maximum of five minutes and then leave, but right at the end of the line you found, of course, Minnie, because it couldn’t be any other way. 

She was alone, holding two purses and a big puffer jacket that was probably not hers. As soon as you stood behind her, she turned around, clearly she wasn’t expecting to see you again. “Oh, hi again!” She greeted you with the same big white smile you saw earlier tonight. “I had to leave when the movie ended, but I wanted to talk to you, where’s your boyfriend?”

You sighed, not wanting to remember what she said to Yoongi. “He’s not my boyfriend, Minnie.” You said. “He’s just… Yoongi.”

“Just Yoongi, huh?” She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. “What are you doing on a date with Just Yoongi?”

“It’s not a date, he just invited me to watch the movie.” You tried to explain, but she wasn’t convinced. 

“Sounds like a date to me.” She giggled, completely ignoring what you said. “I remember when you were like fifteen and cried because he kissed some ugly girl at the New Year’s party, and now you’re on a date!” 

You shook your head, you didn't dare to acknowledge what she said. The memory of that night made you cringe, you remembered running to Minnie and telling everything about it while sobbing like somebody just died. She hugged you and told you that she was sure the girl was super ugly, which wasn’t the truth at all, but it was the version she decided to keep. 

“But it’s not a date.” You reminded her.

“If you say so…” She winked at you, taking a step forward to advance in the line. “But anyway! Weren’t you still in college?” 

Perhapsit was the rush of the dopamine in your body, or the fact that she spoke to you as if not a day had passed since the last time she saw you, but you told her the truth. 

“Well, I’m supposed to be in college.” You said, “But I dropped out recently.” 

“Oh, thank God.” She suddenly let out, almost by accident. You looked at her, amused that she dared to say that. “I mean, don’t get me wrong!” She rushed to say “It’s just, you know, it was about time for you to realize.” 

You smiled, feeling your chest getting warm. When you told people you dropped out of college, most of the time they looked worried, like you made a mistake, but Minnie looked relieved, and that made you feel like it wasn’t such a horrible decision. 

“I know, don’t remind me.” You huffed, looking at your feet. 

“I can't help but do it.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest, thinking “I always thought I was going to see you on a big screen someday, I was disappointed when you left for college.”

How cheesy, you wanted to say, but you couldn’t, not when she was the one who believed in you in ways you never did. 

“Well, I’m out of there now.” You just said. 

“So, if you’re not in college and you’re not doing theater, what are you doing?”

You scoffed, feeling like you just got scolded “Rotting in bed until Christmas, I guess.”

“Okay, I can respect that, but what about after the holidays?” She continued to ask. 

You shrugged, “I have to figure that out yet.”

“So… About what I was telling you before the movie started…”

“Yeah, I mean, about that…” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to cut your sentence.

“Yeah, I know what you’re gonna say, you’re out the theater stuff too, I know.” She said, waving her hands in front of your face so you wouldn’t keep talking. “But I’ve got this friend in the city who’s a director, he is working on this project and is looking for a main character, I don’t know, for some reason it reminded me of you. And now you’re here, so it has to mean something, right?”

You furrowed your eyebrows “Why would it remind you of me?” You inquired. “We haven’t seen each other in years.”

“Crazy, isn’t it?” She laughed, “He pitched to me, it’s some gothic dramatic love story, he wanted to know if I knew of someone.”

Was this some kind of joke? You, realizing that you were never happy in college, coming back home, coming back to the theater where you used to dream to step on a stage someday, or Yoongi telling you all that stuff about not even trying to make your dreams come true, and now this? Something inside you moved, you didn’t know what, but you did know why you were home after all. You told Yoongi about this in your garage the other day, you dropped out of college for a reason, you weren’t built to have a nine to five job, but you also weren’t sure what is what you wanted.

You looked at Minnie like you were sorry to turn down her proposal “Minnie, I haven’t been on a play in years.” You told her, already anticipating the rejection of her offer.

“I know that, but I’ve always trusted your talent, otherwise I wouldn’t be talking about this.” She replied “Look, I’m not asking you to say yes right now, but if you want to know more you can give me your new number.” You kept quiet for a few seconds. Not knowing what to say, you began to nervously laugh, that sounded crazy to you. “C’mon, don’t laugh! If it's of any use, it's a very well paid job.”

Now you began to laugh for real. “What do you mean it's a very well paid job?” You asked, not believing her for one second. Most plays you used to be part of during your high school days never left a dime. 

“It is!” She insisted “You don’t know my friend, he has rich parents, he doesn't do things for the love of art. I mean, he likes theater, but he also likes money.”

Well, that could’ve made you change your mind right away a four years ago, but still, a few hours ago you came to this place counting the seconds to leave, now you were debating if you should accept a job offer. You shook your head, realizing that the line moved far enough, it was Minnie’s turn to leave her coat. 

She took a few seconds and then it was your turn. You quickly asked for Yoongi’s jacket and your coat and when you turned around, Minnie was still there, not willing to give up. 

“What do I have to do to convince you to at least give me your new number?” She pleaded, looking for something in her mini bag. You observed her pulling a lighter and a joint and putting it between her lips to light it up. 

“What are you willing to do?” You joked, or not. 

“What do you have in mind?” Well, she knew you. 

“I have an idea…” You insinuated, pointing at the joint. 

She let out a cloud of smoke out of her mouth, suddenly frowning. “Really?” She said, trying not to sound annoyed, you nodded your head several times, almost excited.  “You can’t be asking for the whole joint.”

“But I am.”

Minnie shook her head in denial. “I can let you smoke it once, I’m not giving it to you.” She offered instead, but you wanted to make it worth it. If you were going to even consider accepting the job, if you were going to even think about something like theater again, you wanted at least something in return. 

“I’m giving you half my number, then.” You said “Try to guess the other half.” 

She narrowed her eyes, hesitating. Your old friend knew that you weren’t joking at all, and for some reason she really wanted you to consider her offer. You knew you won when she rolled her eyes, giving in. “You never stopped being a little bitch, have you?” She hissed, reluctantly handed you the joint. You happily accepted, taking a long drag before it went out. Minnie sighed, sadly watching her perfectly rolled joint in the hands of someone else. “So? Your new number?”

A devilish smirk appeared in your face as you began to walk backwards, taking long steps towards the entrance as you enjoyed the confused expression on Minnie’s face. “I never changed my number.” You confessed. 

Minnie’s mouth hung open in disbelief, but she made sure that the last thing you saw from her that night was her middle finger up, directed towards you. 

It’s been a long time since you outright refused to feel something remotely close to nostalgia, to live evoking memories, to think that a fleeting good moment could make up for all the bad ones, but it was impossible not to. Instead, you were condemned to live wondering what it would be like to come back home someday and not feel this way, to come to The Alley and not feel like you left a part of you there, to look at Yoongi and not feel like you were going to miss him all your life. 

And tonight wasn’t an exception, because when you came back to Yoongi and he offered what seemed to be the warmest smile in the coldest of winters, you knew it might haunt you forever. 

But maybe, just for tonight, you didn’t care. 

“Why are you making that face?” Yoongi asked, raising a brow as he grabbed his jacket from your hands. 

“What face?” You asked back, innocently keeping your hands behind your back.

He opened his mouth to explain what he meant, but then shut it again, staying silent for a minute as he inspected your face. “Did you just… smoke weed?” He laughed, probably already smelling it. 

A smile appeared on your face as you showed him your right hand. Yoongi observed the joint between your thumb and index finger, and wondering where you got that, he tried to take it from your hands. 

You took a step back, moving your arm away from him so he wouldn’t steal it. “What? Is this not legal?” You chuckled.

“Who gave you that?” He asked, grabbing your wrist, but you raised your arm higher. 

“Are you interrogating me?” You kept teasing him, fighting his hold. “I’m sorry Mr. Min, but I’m not a snitch.” 

Yoongi let go of your wrist, quickly giving up. “Are you not sharing?” He asked, a little disappointed. 

“I don’t know.” You pointed your finger at your chin, pretending to think about it “Are you allowed?” 

You walked past him, heading towards the entrance to exit the place. “You’re so annoying.” You heard him say, already knowing he was following you.

Both of you knew that the night was coming to an end, as soon as you stepped foot on the street you could smell the dew on the grass and hear how loud were your footsteps on the empty street. You looked at him through your lashes, observing him lighting up the joint between your lips as with a lighter he found in his pockets. You held the smoke inside your mouth for a few seconds before blowing it on his face, but he just laughed, stealing from your lips. 

You wondered what else you could do to make him stay a bit longer. 

He crossed the desolate street, grabbing your hand to drag you into the poorly illuminated park. It was really cold and you could see your cold breath in the air. Everyone else in the world seemed to agree that it was time to sleep, but you didn’t dare to complain as he decided to take the long way home. 

“How do you know when you’re high?” He curiously asked, eyes locking up with yours as he took another draw. 

It was easy for you to tell, you could get high with only one puff. “I have this thing, I test if my teeth are heavy.” You told him, expecting him to understand right away. 

He laughed, confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Look, if you clench your jaw you can tell that your teeth touch each other.” You explained. Yoongi stopped dead in his tracks, standing in front of you to test it himself. “I know that I’m high when my top teeth are feeling heavy.”

Yoongi snorted, keeping his mouth closed to test it himself. “I don’t know if mine are heavy.” He said “Are yours?”

You already knew you’re high, but you tested it regardless. Closing your mouth, you pressed your teeth together to know “Yes, they are.” You laughed, feeling dizzy. “How do you know?”

It wasn’t the first time you saw Yoongi high, you remembered that time, you were woken up at three in the morning when your brother dragged him into your house after their graduation party because he smoked too much, and Yoongi’s mom couldn’t find out that her son almost died because he didn't know how to use a bong. 

It was the first time that he made Simon look like the responsible friend. Yoongi was seeing shadows before leaving the party and when he arrived at your home was calmer, but still high. He was strangely afraid of going upstairs, so the three of you stayed in the living room watching very low quality episodes of Pinky and The Brain on YouTube. Simon let you stay under the condition of not telling your mom about Yoongi having a bad trip, so you did. The memory of Yoongi laughing at the screen and eating the cake your mom bought to celebrate was still very engraved in your mind.

This version was very different. Yoongi’s hooded eyes were crystallized and there was an awkward smile plastered on his face that wasn’t going away. You could tell he was high in the way he was walking, and especially in the way he was still holding your hand.

The silence lingered in the air for a second. He pressed his lips together, scanning your face. “I know I’m high when it’s hard for me to tell if I’m looking at one thing or the whole picture.” He tried to explain “Like, I can’t focus on more than one thing at once.”

Somehow, you understood. “What are you looking at right now?”

In that moment, Yoongi seemed to be asking himself that very same question in his head, but he already knew the answer. 

 “Your mouth.” He replied innocently.

Someone in the very back of your mind started to wave a big red flag, but on the surface, where an intoxicated version of yourself was laying under the moonlight, you could only laugh. 

“Isn’t it a bit distracting?” You asked him, pulling him forward so he would start walking towards the exit of the park. 

“Yes, very.” he guaranteed “But I don’t mind.”

Yoongi followed you out of the park, and in a team of two you remembered the way to your home. It was like both of your brains had turned off, the conversation didn’t have to mean anything, you didn’t have to wonder why he was there with you at all. 

The clock on your phone said that it was three in the morning, but in your mind time had stopped forever, or at least until next morning. When you turned the corner and reached the end of the street, you knew it was time to say goodbye. But what if you didn’t want to?

You struggled to find your keys, maybe because you were high or maybe because you just didn’t want to remember where the keys were. And when you had to open the door, you leaned against the door frame to say your last words. 

You looked at him with hooded eyes, his pink lips were slightly parted, like they were about to say something but they didn’t. In the haze of the moment you thought it looked just like an invitation to kiss him, but of course you wouldn’t. Of course you couldn’t. 

What you could do, instead, was prevent him from leaving, at least for a while. Was that allowed? You weren’t in your right mind to answer that question. 

You sighed, sleepy, touching the collar of his shirt. “I can’t let you go home like this.” You let out, faster than you could think. 

Yoongi scrunched his nose. “It’s fine, it’s just a few blocks away.” He waved off your concern, but his feet were dug deeply on the wood floor of your porch. 

“It’s not a few blocks away.” You argued “You live like ten blocks away, and you’re still high…”

“I can manage.” He smirked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear like it was nothing. 

“C’mon, you can stay.” You offered. “My bed is big enough for both of us.”

Your voice came as a whisper, but your words are clearly heard by Yoongi. He scoffed, causing you to start laughing “I didn’t mean that.” You blurted out. trying to correct yourself, but he was already laughing at you. 

“What did you mean?” He was curious. 

You lightly punched his shoulder. “I meant that… You can stay.” You repeated “Besides… There’s still Simon’s old clothes you can wear to sleep.” 

He raised his eyebrows, getting closer to your face, or not, you weren’t sure. 

“What would your mom say?” He mumbled, still in denial. 

“What?” You chuckled “I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll just say you were too drunk to come back home.”

“That’s not the truth.” He said, booping your nose, but you could barely feel the coldness of his touch. 

“Do I really have to tell her that we were high?” You wondered, booping his nose back. 

Yoongi smiled, knowing you were right. “I guess not.” He admitted. 

“So?” You dared to insist.

“I’ll stay…” He said, putting a finger up. “Under one condition…”

“You want me to tuck you in bed?” You said, laughing at your own joke like it was the funniest thing you had ever said. 

Yoongi snorted, covering your mouth with his hand so you wouldn’t keep making loud noises. “No, not that.” He shook his head. “You have to make me breakfast.”

You bit the palm of his hand, making him pull away with a groan. “Is that what your life is worth?” You teased “Breakfast?”

“I’m not gonna die walking ten blocks.”

“What if you enter a bad trip?” You joked “The streets are scary when it’s dark.”

“C’mon, don’t talk about bad trips.” He closed his eyes shut, like he was trying to picture flowers and kittens so he wouldn’t think of something bad. 

“God, Yoongi. Are you staying or not?” 

He sighed, opening his eyes to display his characteristic gummy smile. “Fine Pinky.” He gave in, “Show me how big your bed is.” 

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