#Spirit/myg

[mrsthunderkin]

"This book is incredibly unrealistic, my love"

[yooniivrse]

face masks | myg

summary. in which your presence is enough to lighten his toughest days—even if it means resorting to face masks at midnight.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff, angst if u squint

word count: 1.9k

content/warnings: yoongi's having a bad day / but ofc oc makes him feel better / they do face masks together :3 / yoongi loves oc so much it hurts my heart </3

notes: as promised, i'm releasing a drabble before i move on to a slightly longer work (maybe? i'm going wherever the wind takes me atp). i really like this one, and i hope you guys like it too :) as always, likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback are so greatly appreciated!

────

main masterlist

────

“Baby?”

Yoongi’s voice is almost lost to the steady stream of water pelting the shower floor. Through the steam and the hazy glass, your figure is a blurred silhouette, reaching out to turn off the faucet.

“Yoongi?” You peek around the half-opaque shower screen, your face lighting up with a warm smile the moment you see him. “You’re home early.”

“Mhm. Missed you,” he mumbles, offering no further explanation. In one swift motion, he pulls off his hoodie and lets it fall to the tiled floor. His pants and boxers follow, and in no time, he’s stepping into the shower beside you.

“Hi,” you whisper softly as his arms wrap around your body, pulling you close.

“Hi,” he replies, though his voice carries a heavy weight of exhaustion. You lift your hands to cup his cheeks, concern etching across your features as you look into his eyes.

It’s not just his voice that betrays his tiredness—dark shadows linger under his drooping eyes, and even his embrace feels a little stiff.

“Hey. You okay?” you ask gently, your thumb tracing the soft curve of his cheek. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“Bad day,” he admits with a sigh, his breath warm against your skin. “And I’m really tired.”

Before you can voice your worries, he presses his lips to yours. Slowly, as you wrap your arms around his neck and return the kiss, you feel his tension start to melt away. His body softens against yours, the weight of the day momentarily forgotten as he leans into your warmth.

He rests his head in the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around you as if afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. You press a soft kiss to his shoulder, a silent reassurance that you're there, right with him.

Although worries linger in your mind, you push them aside, focusing instead on the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. You bring down a hand to trace the ink etched onto his arm, tracing the pigment with the pad of your thumb.

“I love you,” you whisper softly.

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, but his arms squeeze you a little tighter. You giggle at the silent gesture, and the sound seems to lift his spirits—his lips curve into a small smile, mirroring yours as they press against your skin.

“Let’s get washed up, yeah?” you suggest softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

Yoongi lifts his head, his tired eyes meeting yours, and he gives a small nod. You kiss him again, tenderly, before turning the shower back on, hoping the warm water will wash away the stress weighing down on his shoulders.

────

Yoongi’s hands rest lazily on your hips as you carefully work a pigmented face mask across his skin, your fingers tracing delicate patterns.

When you first suggested that skincare might help take his mind off things, he had been sceptical. But he couldn’t say no, not with you standing in front of him, those beautiful eyes of yours practically begging him to agree.

And now, as you gently massage the mask into his skin, he has to admit—it’s working. Whether it’s the soothing sensation of the products or simply the fact that it’s you applying them, he feels a little lighter. The weight on his shoulders, though still present, feels more bearable.

“Are you sure this stuff actually works, love?” he asks.

You shrug, flashing him a playful grin. “Nope.”

A smile tugs at Yoongi’s lips despite himself. “Right. So, remind me again why we’re doing this?”

“It’s the process that matters,” you tease. “It’s supposed to feel therapeutic, you know?”

Yoongi gives you a questioning look, cocking an eyebrow, but there’s a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Therapeutic, huh? Do I look refreshed yet?”

“You tell me,” you say with a playful smirk. "Don’t you feel a little more relaxed?"

He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “A little,” he confesses, his voice filled with affection.

As the light hearted banter fades into comfortable silence, you become aware of his gaze lingering on you. He carefully watches the way your eyelashes flutter every time you blink, and listens to the rhythm of your steady breathing.

Yoongi knows your features as intimately as the back of his hand—the curve of your lips, the delicate slope of your nose, the little furrow between your brows when you're focused. Yet, he can’t stop staring, committing every detail to memory as if he hasn’t spent countless sleepless nights doing the exact same thing, watching you breathe as you slept beside him.

Still, even now, you’re his favourite sight in the world.

Yoongi’s fingers tighten slightly on your waist, his eyes still fixed on you, his thoughts drifting. He stays silent for a while, just watching you with a gentle smile tugging at his lips. You’re so focused, applying the skincare with such delicate precision, and it makes his heart swell in his chest.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask, breaking the silence with a soft laugh, your cheeks flushing slightly under his gaze.

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. “You’re beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, though the warmth of his words makes your heart flutter. “We're both covered in clay face masks, babe. I probably look just as ridiculous.”

He chuckles softly. “You could never look ridiculous to me.”

You shake your head at him, a smile curling on your lips. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe,” he admits, that teasing smile on his face again. “But it’s true.” He reaches up, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead before resting it back on your hip. "You make everything better, even this... weird skincare stuff."

His words are so genuine, so full of affection, that it leaves a warmth spreading through your chest. You can’t help but feel the love radiating from him; a quiet but deep kind of love.

As you finish smoothing the last bit of the mask onto his face, you step back to admire your work. “There. Perfect.”

Yoongi looks at you, his face now completely coated in the clay mask. “Perfect, huh?” He glances at himself in the mirror and then back at you, a laugh bubbling up in his chest. “We look like we belong in some kind of alien movie.”

You can’t help but laugh with him, the sound bright and contagious. “We do look a bit silly, don’t we?”

“A bit?” he says, still chuckling. “We look like we’re about to storm Area 51.”

You burst into laughter again, leaning into him as the ridiculousness of it all sinks in. “Well, I think we look cute,” you say between giggles, wiping a stray bit of clay from his cheek.

Yoongi watches you laugh, the sound of your joy lighting up the room. His heart feels a little lighter with every laugh that escapes your lips, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems so far away. It’s in moments like these that he’s reminded just how much he loves you—not just for the big things, but for these quiet, ordinary moments, where all that exists is the two of you and the silly little routines that bring you closer together.

“You make everything better, you know that?” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes, dark and gentle, lock with yours, and his hand comes up to rest on your cheek.

You blink up at him, a little taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. “I just put a bunch of skincare on you. Not exactly a grand gesture,” you tease, trying to keep the moment light, though your heart flutters at the sincerity in his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi says, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You always know how to make me feel better, even when I’m in my head or having the worst day.” His voice catches slightly, and for a second, he seems to be weighing his words before continuing. “I don’t always say it, but I’m so grateful for you… for everything you do.”

The room falls quiet again, the laughter from earlier replaced by a soft, intimate silence. His words hang in the air, filled with a depth that makes your heart swell. You reach up to cover his hand with yours, your thumb brushing over his knuckles as you look at him with the same sincerity he’s offering you.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you whisper, your voice soft but steady. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you.”

He lets out a small, almost breathless laugh, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “Sometimes I just don’t feel like I deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” you protest gently. “You deserve all the love in the world.”

Yoongi pulls you closer, his forehead almost pressing against yours, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. The warmth of his breath mixes with yours, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart against your chest.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves are sacred. “More than I can ever say.”

You smile at him, your hand reaching up to gently trace the line of his jaw. “I know. And I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of you, tangled in each other’s arms, surrounded by the warmth of your shared love. The silliness of the face masks and the laughter from earlier all feel like part of this intricate, beautiful dance you’ve built together—one that Yoongi wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

Eventually, the face masks begin to dry, cracking slightly as you both try to contain your smiles. Yoongi glances at himself in the mirror and then back at you, his expression lightening again.

“Well,” he says, his voice playful once more, “I think I’m cracking under the pressure here.”

You giggle, running your thumb along his cheek, watching as the clay flakes away under your touch. “I think it’s time to rinse this off.”

As you both move toward the sink, Yoongi catches your hand, pulling you back for a brief moment. His eyes meet yours, softer than ever. “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice full of gratitude that words can barely contain.

“For what?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“For being here. For always being here.” His gaze drops for a second as if he’s gathering his thoughts. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t say it enough, but you… you’re everything to me.”

You smile, your heart swelling with emotion. “I’ll always be here, Yoongi. Always.”

He nods, and as the two of you finally start washing off the face masks, he can’t help but reflect on just how lucky he is. In a world that often feels chaotic and overwhelming, you are his constant. You’re the person who brings him peace, who makes the bad days feel bearable and the good days even better.

And as he watches the remnants of the mask swirl down the drain, he silently promises himself that he will always treasure moments like these—silly, simple, and full of love. Because in the end, it’s these moments that matter the most; the ones that remind him just how grateful he is to have you in his life.

[kithtaehyung]

u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg

3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣

explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩

—

—

“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 

“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 

Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 

“Barbie was great and you know it.” 

“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 

“I got this.” 

Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 

The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 

“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 

“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 

“So is the jersey?”

“I have two of these.”

“…I will never understand you.”

The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 

If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 

Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 

It’s magical. 

But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 

Ugh. 

At least he’s carrying everything. 

“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  

“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 

“The lights are so nice, though.” 

“Uh huh.” 

After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 

And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 

“Hey! You made it!” 

Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 

As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 

“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”

“For what?” 

“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 

Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 

When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 

“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.

“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 

“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 

“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 

“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 

His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 

Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 

Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 

“Yoongi! You, too?” 

Huh? Him, too? 

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 

Hot? What could possibly be—

Oh. 

Fucking.

Hell. 

It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 

And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 

You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 

Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 

How the fuck are you supposed to react! 

“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 

Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.

“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 

And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 

“Why?” 

“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 

Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.

But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 

“And you dressed basic for what?” 

Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 

Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 

But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 

“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 

“Won’t help you, doll.” 

Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 

Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 

“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 

Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 

And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 

Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 

You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 

Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.

And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  

Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 

Shit, you can’t do this. 

If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 

But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 

You [10:02pm]: what🥺 

“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 

“Where’re we going?” 

“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 

From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 

Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 

You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕

Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 

Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 

It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 

So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 

You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 

It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 

Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 

Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 

You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 

You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 

This is bad. 

Why can’t he be super annoying instead—

Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 

Well. 

You [10:10pm]: 😐 

Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 

Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 

“I will once you stop sexting.” 

“We are not!” 

“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 

Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 

“A model.” 

He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 

“Yup.” 

Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 

Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 

Why does he have to say all the right things?

You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 

Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 

You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 

You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 

Wait. 

Have you ever been that bold? 

Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 

Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 

And rude. 

You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛

“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 

The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 

Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 

Nope. 

Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 

Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.

But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 

“You know what’s up.” 

“Dom!” 

“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 

Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 

“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 

“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 

Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my—”

Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 

“Is he coming?” 

“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”

“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 

Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 

It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 

“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 

What? 

Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.

Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 

But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 

Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 

Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 

Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 

Fuck, what if his hand is better! 

Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 

Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 

But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…

That last card may have just saved your ass.

You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.

“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 

And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 

With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 

Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 

And outside of it. 

While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 

At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 

When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 

After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 

Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 

This is agonizing. 

Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 

Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.

Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 

Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 

Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 

Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 

But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 

He’s not like that anymore. 

But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 

Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 

How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 

Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.

You’d rather be standing together. 

Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.

Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 

The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 

You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  

“What’s your favorite candy?”

“Chocolate!”

“I like gummi bears.”

Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.

Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”

“Yeah! One sec.”

As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,

“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 

One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 

“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 

Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 

“Yeah!” 

Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 

But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 

“What’s up!”

“Come here real quick!”

When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 

When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”

“Okay!”

Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 

As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 

Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.

Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 

But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 

The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 

“Meow.” 

Oh. God.

Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 

And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 

“Yes, huh!” 

“No!” 

“Look! I have ears!” 

“No! You sound like a human!” 

“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 

Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 

Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 

One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 

When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 

But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 

“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 

You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 

But what you do know? 

You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 

“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”

Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”

“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 

There’s one other thing you know for sure. 

Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 

Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.

Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 

An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 

But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 

Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 

To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.

“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 

Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 

“I am!” 

As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 

“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 

Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 

“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 

“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 

Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 

You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 

Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 

Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 

“When?”

“At Hobi’s?”

“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 

“It does—!” 

Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 

“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 

Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 

If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 

More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 

“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.

Your brother was right yet again. 

There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 

Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 

There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 

Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 

Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 

“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 

“Hey!” 

The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 

Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.

And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.

Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  

And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 

“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 

And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 

Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 

Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 

Still a goddamn menace. 

“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 

“I am.” 

“So do something!” 

“Am I holding a basketball?” 

Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 

“Fine.” 

And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 

All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 

“Don’t listen to him.” 

“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 

Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 

“Whose side are you on!” 

“You got something to say?” 

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 

While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 

“No, I’ll make it.” 

He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 

Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 

Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.

“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 

“The haunted house?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 

And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 

While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 

Huh. 

Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 

“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 

Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 

As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...

He’s already walking away. 

And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 

Umm.

What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 

…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?

Motherfucker.

Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 

So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  

But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 

Because he’s watching that dude leave. 

Looking pissed. 

Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—

He’s not—

What is he doing?

He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 

Right?

…This is bold as fuck. 

Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 

“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 

Damn. No subtlety this time?

You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 

But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 

“I should’ve done this sooner.”

“You didn’t know.” 

“Doesn’t matter.”

When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 

Yoongi is actually furious.  

Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 

Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 

They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 

Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  

“Y’all good over there?”

“Yeah.” 

Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 

That’s probably best for everyone involved. 

“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.

And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 

“Okay.” 

No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 

But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 

The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 

Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 

And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.

The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 

But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 

So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 

Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 

Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 

But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 

Did you feel jealous? Upset? 

To your pleasant surprise, not really. 

Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 

You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 

All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 

A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 

“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”

As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 

So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 

Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 

“You good to go home with your friends?” 

Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 

“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 

“The fuck? On Halloween?” 

He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 

Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 

And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?

Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 

You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 

“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 

“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 

“K.”  

He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 

Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 

Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.

After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 

Maybe you should have left, too. 

Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.

But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 

Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?

Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 

You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..

Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t

Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 

This is it. 

This is why you stayed. 

Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 

Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll

And you will wait forever. 

However long it takes.

You [12:51am]: ok

It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.

Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 

All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 

But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 

So unfair.

In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 

And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 

Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 

“Come here.” 

“You sure?” 

He hesitates. 

And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 

But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 

What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?

There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.

God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 

But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 

However. 

When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 

“Yoongi…?” 

With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 

Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 

Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 

As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.

And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.

“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”

His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 

“Is that what you want?”

Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”

“Me to suck you dry.”

You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 

His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”

That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.

You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 

“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 

“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”

“Good.” 

You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 

Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.

There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.

And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”

“Yoongi—”

Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 

Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”

“You taste so fucking good.” 

More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”

Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 

“Yoo—”

And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 

For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 

Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.

But you can tell something’s off.

He’s holding back.

Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?

If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.

So what’s with the sudden hesitation?

Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 

“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 

“Please what.” 

“I need you.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 

“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 

Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 

Were they always that loud?

“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 

Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 

Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 

“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 

“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”

“You don’t.”

Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 

Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.

And you’ll let him.

Consequences be damned. 

“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”

Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 

Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.

Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.

“Thought I was boring.”

Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Say sorry then.”

It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”

Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”

Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 

“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”

Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 

All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 

Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”

Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”

“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 

“This wouldn’t get old?” 

“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”

Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”

“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 

He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.

“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 

“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”

“Just make me forget it.”

He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 

And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 

You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.

If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.

But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,

“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 

“Wait, why—”

“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”

Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 

“Yoongi, what—” 

He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 

And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.

You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.

“Baby, you sure?”

“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 

Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 

“We don’t have to, doll.” 

And if you’re honest… 

The thrill of it is enticing.

“We can.” 

“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 

A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 

“Not telling.” 

Of course. “You suck.” 

Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 

Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 

Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 

And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”

“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 

“No, but—fuck.” 

Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 

“God, you’re so perfect.” 

Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 

“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 

Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 

“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 

Oh. 

You know why he’s holding you so hard. 

And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 

Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 

But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 

“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 

Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 

So you vow to make that reality. 

“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”

Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 

Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 

Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 

His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 

And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 

Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 

Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 

“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 

Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—

A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 

Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 

Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 

But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 

So fucking unfair. 

Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 

Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 

Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 

And you recognize both of them. 

“—like you said, right?” 

“I know, but…” 

It’s Tae. 

And Jimin. 

“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 

The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 

“You really think so?” 

There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 

Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!

When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  

What the fuck is he doing! 

This man is going to be the end of you. 

“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 

“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 

Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 

And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 

Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 

You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 

Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 

And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 

“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 

“Most of it was your idea.” 

“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 

Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 

“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 

“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 

A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 

“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 

“You just sat on it.” 

“I didn’t sit on that side.” 

Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  

“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 

Adrenaline still at its peak. 

“You’re gonna pay for that.” 

“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 

After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 

“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 

“Do you want to?” 

You pause. 

If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 

But if you stay… 

“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”

“Fuck no.” 

Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 

And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 

So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”

“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 

You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 

Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 

A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 

“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 

Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,

“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 

Holy fuck, what? 

“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“We don’t have—”

“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 

What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 

Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 

When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 

“Sure you didn’t.” 

He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 

Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 

“We don’t have to.” 

Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 

But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 

Fuck. 

Do you really go for it? 

You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 

…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 

“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 

His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 

Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 

“So fucking wet.” 

Fuck. 

“Gonna take this dick so well.” 

Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 

“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 

Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 

Well, you think he’s on the same page. 

Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 

Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 

“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 

You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 

You feel bad. 

And it feels fantastic. 

“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 

When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 

After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 

When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Good girl.” 

As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 

Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 

Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—

“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.

“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”

Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 

Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.

“Show me up then.”

He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.

Oh, he’s a killer. 

And he’s all yours.

Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.

Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.

Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.

Which is the worst best thing to do. 

“Fuck, doll.”

With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.

“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 

And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 

You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 

“Breathe in for me.”

And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 

Fuck! 

Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 

“Again.”

When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 

“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,

“So good.” 

“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”

Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”

He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”

You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 

“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.

After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”

You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 

And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 

Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.

Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.

How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 

“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”

He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 

You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 

And definitely other people, too.

But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.

“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”

You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 

And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,

“Then come for me, doll.”

Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.

“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”

And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 

“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”

Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 

“Baby, I’m still—”

“Fuck—”

You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.

“D—”

You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”

“No, but—”

“Take it off.”

Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 

Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 

Because you want this. He’s earned this. 

Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 

This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 

When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 

Yoongi is fighting for his life. 

You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 

And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 

He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.

“Open that mouth.”

You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.

“Goddamn.”

You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.

It looks like he wants to say something. 

But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 

As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 

But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 

As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 

Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 

“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 

His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 

"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 

Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 

And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 

If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.

Even if they frightened you to death. 

Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 

After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 

With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.

And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.

But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 

When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 

And you dissolve into mush yet again.

Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 

You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  

What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 

Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 

It’s definitely with Yoongi. 

Right now, you know your home is with him. 

Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 

You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 

Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒

Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 

And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 

Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 

He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.

And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.

Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)

Happy Halloween indeed. 

—

—

—

end :)

—

🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!

a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.

++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[hoseoksluna]

THE BALL OF LIGHT, i. | myg, jjk

pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc (ft. brother!yoongi)

genre: fluff

word count: 2.9k

summary: life of other people never mirrored yours and jeon jeongguk will never be yours, either.

pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run

cp: ao3 / wp

warnings: smoking, suggestive but not described thoughts of nudity, pessimism, orphancy / the members in this series are fictional.

note: everybody, welcome the new series. it is a multiple member-centered fanfic, so the names you see in the title don't necessarily mean the pairing is endgame or anything like that. who the main love interest is will be a surprise that the fic will slowly reveal. trust the process with the first chapter. it's short on purpose and i will reveal the information and quicken the plot along the way. let me know what you think. reblogs and esp comments are mandatory unfortunately in the hoseoksluna house:/ ...... sfjsldfjsldfj ENJOY. i love u guys! should i crosspost it on wattpad? (im scared of wattpad)

… Or was his destiny from the start To be just one moment  Near your heart? 

(Ivan Turgenev)

— an epigraph from the book White Nights by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Your brother Yoongi was always the pair of hands that would tug your legs down whenever you would fly in your books for too long. He did it out of tender care and fatherly kindness, calling your name in order for you to come join him in the kitchen for a meal. To be some semblance of a family after the tragedy had sunk its teeth into your bloodline. And what you had never imagined was that one day, you’d have to leave him behind to step inside a dream of this very reality. 

Throughout the trajectory of your girlhood, you had lived inside the worlds of your books. Classical literature that carried more depth, more leniency, despite its hardships that the characters went through, than this world. The idea of love clung to you like a second skin, one you wouldn’t really receive from the two important roles in your life because you weren’t made out of love, but would find within flowery and difficult words of another time. Digging deep and understanding made you fall in love with it, seek it in school, in the streets and inside your own home, only to look and walk past those people still empty-handed. 

In spite of it all, your palms were, somehow, still heavy. As if they carried something invisible for worldly eyes. 

You would see it come to life whenever you would close yourself up in your room, with your folded legs, your short hair wild and with a book on your lap. Dostoyevsky taught you that love could be found upon a fateful coincidence and it marred you in a beautiful way that was pitifully disastrous. It forced your eyes to look for it everywhere, even through the reappearing pain of disappointment, and it especially forced you to look for it at home. 

The hope remained even after both of your parents went to the other side of this love, beyond this world. They passed away due to an unfair illness. And because they went at the same time, you often found yourself thinking if they loved each other in the realm of eternity, when they very seldom loved each other in this temporary realm. 

Your firm, ingrained dreaminess helped you cope with the sudden silence, the aftermath of your state of orphancy. You no longer had to reread a sentence in your book a thousand times, the once screeching voices beyond the door of your bedroom shunned out, dead, but still pulsing. The walls carried the ghosts of those parental fights and Yoongi… he, in his secret sensitivity to the paranormal, braided for you a bracelet of black thread. To keep you safe from those spirits, to help you heal. 

He didn’t have one of his own, and that fact faultlessly described the new role he clothed himself in within this abrupt change. He would stare at the walls with a cold gaze, threatening them with power if they ever made a sound. He sat more at the kitchen table now than he did at his music station in his room, spine hunched over a myriad of bills that would make him pull on his hair until a bald spot formed. On the left side of his head, just above his ear, where his amygdala bloomed with black flowers. 

You would come home from school, glide your eyes over his bare wrist pressed to his cheek,  and touch the tense muscles over his protruded shoulder blades. You saw, vividly, the way his new role tore him apart and you wanted to help him. Physically and emotionally. But Yoongi rejected your help, rejected the emotions you were so willing to smooth out and caress with the lines of your palm that knew love from the way you caressed the pages of your books. He would get up from the table, tell you to shower, and he would walk to the kitchen to prepare you a meal, a meatless one because meat was expensive. He would wash his hands in the sink, let the cold water hide the strands of hair he plucked out of stress. 

He would pretend that everything was fine when in reality, nothing was fine. 

Your parents didn’t leave you a dime, but they let you keep the house you and Yoongi grew up in. Left an unpaid mortgage in your hands instead of happy memories, instead of love. 

But Yoongi, he showed you love. He would show it to you by the way he would boil the water for you in the beginning of yours and his orphancy because he had no money to pay for the water bill and because all the money he had saved in his boyhood was used for funeral expenses. He would show it to you by the way your plate would have meat and his wouldn’t. And he showed it to you by the way he wouldn’t allow you to find a job and financially help him, but instead told you to focus on your degree. To focus on your dream. No matter how many times you pestered him that you could find a part-time job. 

No, your dreams require your full attention, he had said once, that Yoongi-coded frown shadowing his features. Go study. 

And so you bowed your head and silently left, retreating into your room while contemplating in your heart that Yoongi never knew what your dreams looked like. And neither did you. Not until they showed up right in front of you. 

It is a time perfumed by the upcoming winter, the November time of the present. Frost has been kissing each corner of glass one would stumble across in the city of Seoul, decorating it with its affection using its snowflakes. It’s what you’re looking at, perched with your shivering form on the bus stop with the only friend you ever had in your lifetime. 

Or a so-called friend. You don’t think you would use the term friendship with a guy like Jeongguk. 

He represented the unattainable aspect in the books you’ve read. The goal that hasn’t yet been reached. The agonized yearning that hangs by a thread around the character’s life. He embodied the aspect of pain itself—because if life had been a little kinder to you, he would be yours. 

Life, however, isn’t kind. 

Life is realistic.

You met the boy at a wrong time in his life. Passing by him on the stairway of your high school, you caught him in a tense, yet volatile situation of an emotional kind. Spring, still reminiscent of winter, had wrapped itself around your nineteen years of age, and you, dreaming a strange dream that you couldn’t wake up from, ran late for your class. You hadn’t spoken to him prior this fateful day, though you knew of his existence. He was just a background character that you didn’t pay any attention to until he blazed up with life and the sparks of sensitivity on that empty staircase. And you couldn’t take the other way; you couldn’t turn around and miss the class. You had to walk by him and his girlfriend at the time while they were in the middle of an argument that shook through the echo of the space. 

You walked by them, but the encounter changed your life. It changed your life because Jeongguk’s cheeks were tearstained, glistening in the uncanny white of the staircase. His eyes were fixed on yours, his eyelashes wet and long—prettily, so terribly prettily. You quietly apologized, running up the stairs as rapidly as you could, and his eyes did not leave yours until you were out of his view. And then you heard the shuffling of feet and where there was an absolute turmoil, silence replaced it. 

Jeongguk found you that very day. 

Alarm was eclipsed over those puffy eyes, his eyelashes no longer wet, but still long, so terribly pretty. You were on your way out, exiting the building, when he grabbed a hold of your backpack, stopping you from disappearing. And when you gazed back with absolute horror, your short bob swishing around you, Jeongguk smiled a soft half-smile, which thinned out that negative emotion—as if he did it on purpose, not wanting to scare you. 

What’s your name? he started with a question, his shoulders slouched and drooping, an evident tiredness misting him in a drowsy aura. His voice was strained, bubbling in his throat as if he either screamed his vocal cords raw or didn’t speak for a while, choosing silence. Both options turned your heart upside down, painfully. You felt a greater pity for him than you ever have for someone in your lifetime—and that was the beginning of all your firsts with him. 

When you said your name, Jeongguk averted his gaze and nodded his head. You expected him to ask you which year you were born, but he kept his eyes low as he uttered the words, which made your pity for him grow into a bare tree  with just one twig, a seemingly singular wing, within you. 

I don’t know how much you heard, but Ka-eun didn’t do anything wrong. It was a misunderstanding and I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself. 

You had heard a female screaming, seething voice, but due to your sleepy state, you hadn’t made out what those words actually were. But remembering the tears dripping off of his lashes, you realized how hurtful those words thrown at his must had been. And while you thought about this all, Jeongguk took your hand, pried open your fingers and fished out of his pocket a small banana milk. 

Ka-eun, the it-girl of the high school. Jeongguk protected her reputation, in spite of the fact that she didn’t deserve it at all. 

That was the kind of person Jeongguk was. 

It wasn’t the only encounter you had with him. He would smile at you and greet you while passing you in the halls. Would put banana milks sometimes on your desk early in the morning. Would sit beside you at lunch when he wasn’t on speaking terms with her. And he would confide in you while knowing nothing about you. 

That’s the reason why you can’t call your intertwinement with Jeongguk a friendship. Certainly not, after the person he became when uni life spread its roots in yours and his and he chose the one opposite of yours. 

The faculty of medicine stood facing your faculty of philosophy and literature, and Jeongguk, wearing his green scrubs and his oversized hoodie, would meet you during lunch breaks, insisting that you spend it together because he didn’t know anyone else and he was too anxious to meet new people because of what Ka-eun put him through. 

But Jeongguk didn’t eat. Not so much like he used to. 

The trauma and the difficulty of his field forced him to turn to cigarettes. And him blowing out the smoke the other way so you don’t inhale it while eating your lunch made another twig, another wing begin to grow on your tree within your chest for him. 

You didn’t love him, but he was kind to you and he meant something to you. You never loved a man, besides Yoongi and Dostoyevsky. And Jungkook puffing out the smoke like that, he reflected Yoongi and his brotherly love for you in a way that made you dream. Dream about a romantic love that everyone else seems to have so easily, except for you. About that romantic love you read about in your favorite Dostoyevsky book White Nights. 

But perhaps the affinity you had for Jeongguk was some kind of love that the books haven’t written about, at least later on. A kind of non-romantic love that you, yourself, came up with. A love that meant nothing in this world, but everything to you. A love that blazed up like the tip of Jeongguk’s cigarette that he lit up for you at the beginning of autumn of this year, letting you try it out just because he felt like it. 

Another first that has become a habit. 

You didn’t have money of your own to spend it on packs of cigarettes, but Jeongguk did. And he’s never been the kind of person who was stingy. He would give himself if he could, and it completes him—the act of giving and the other person’s response of receiving. 

His eyes burst with light at this very moment, a few months later, just like they did the first time when he lit up a cigarette for you. Though this time, you don’t need his help. You feel their heat, in the middle of this frosty bus stop, as he watches you place the cigarette he pulled up from his pack for you, his own hanging from his lips, unlit. He always waits for you to light up your own first like the gentleman he is, but something about his gaze is different. You sense their intensity, their foreign, foreign intensity that you don’t think is meant for you. And when you take that first puff, you expect it to leave you—like you’ve learned that it always does—but for some reason it doesn’t. 

There’s depth to the eye contact once you reciprocate it. Murkiness descends upon the pair of you, the sun parting ways with the day in a much quicker way that you still haven’t gotten used to. And along with it, a light layer of snow begins to fall. 

Something is meaningful about it—like it should be written down. Jeongguk’s eyes of lingering seriousness, pensive. The snowflakes that settle upon his ebony hair. How silky they must be to the touch. Always so poofy and voluminous. 

Your hands itch to write and Jeongguk doesn’t ask for his pink lighter back. He merely keeps staring, and you start to think that maybe something is weighing his heart heavily. Something personal that he will soon pour out. Like he always does. 

You’re the listener, never the talker, but something inside you urges you, strangely, to make the first move. Get him talking, get him smoking, so he can go home, go to bed and awake with a fresh consciousness, ready to be filled with anatomy, sicknesses and all the other stuff he needs to cram. 

The hand that longs to write lifts, and it feels natural. It feels natural to flick your thumb on the lighter and call fire to life. It feels natural when Jeongguk purses his lips, lifting the cigarette in the process, and holds it up for you while his hands remain warm in the pockets of his oversized black jacket. It feels natural to watch him suck in, the cheeks that carry too many memories of his tears hollowing out. 

And for a second that is too brief, you let your soul imagine what it would be like… to have Jeongguk as your boyfriend. 

To have the full, ceaseless measure of his love. The one that is meant for the better people, but not for you. 

To have his hands touch your skin in a way that would convey what he feels for you— 

“Have you told your brother yet?” 

Too, too brief, that second. Internally, you take your imagination and sew it shut with a pink thread. Pastel pink, like his lighter. 

The question aches as if you pricked your heart with the needle. You haven’t told Yoongi that you smoke one cigarette a day with a boy after school. You haven’t even told your journal. All in fear that the only life you ever managed to experience out of the realm of your books would simply disperse, never to be found again. 

In fear that Yoongi would be mad and you’d add another layer of stress on top of his already high pile. In fear that he would yell at you like your father did over meaningless things. 

“No,” you respond, softly, dropping your gaze to the ashy tip of your cigarette, flicking it off. The prickling sensation deepens as the iciness of the weather grows. You shiver, sighing. The tree in you does as well. “I’ll never tell him. Never—”

“Never in a million years,” he finishes for you, and your mouth parts in the overwhelming realization that you were wrong. 

Jeongguk does know something about you. He remembers that this is a sentence that repeats in your vocabulary multiple times a day. And there’s such intimacy to it, him knowing this, him finishing the sentence for you, him being educated in the matter that bears your name. 

Or perhaps not. Perhaps you’re too starved of any male attention, love and touch. 

Your imagination in you fights against the seam. 

“What happens if he sees you?” Jeongguk asks, and you pause before replying. Take a puff of your cigarette, watch as a miniscule star of mischief begins to live within the macadamia chocolate of his eyes—as if the principle of him secretly corrupting you utterly enthralls him. You picture that’s what he smells like underneath all those clothes of his, your imagination poking a finger through the seam. And you let it—you let it grasp you because it’s stronger than you. 

Macadamia, musk, cedarwood. 

The kind of lustful smell that is dark to the sight, but innocent in its core. 

Behind him, the blue murkiness fully evens out, no hint of the sun’s coloring painting its corners with positivity. Pessimism abides, and you feel it burying itself into your literature-woven bones. 

You’ve been waiting twenty minutes for the bus, Jeongguk even longer for his. The roads are long and empty, darkening the longer you stand here. The snow forms a firm layer on the ground, and you already anticipate Yoongi’s anger-infused worry, crawling all over you. 

You turn to look at Jeongguk, your blood flow at full halt. 

“War happens, Jeongguk,” you say, swallowing thickly. “If Yoongi and I see each other outside of the walls of our house.”

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist | BACK to series masterlist

[holostarz]

my problem is i think most of p5s ships are cute and thats why i almost always am down for some form of polythieves

usually i just lump all the guys together cause all those ships are just so good to me??? and i mean like, every combination of them, even without ren. ill ship ryuji and yusuke. and i also love goro with either of them. ryugoro and akekita are so rare but theyre so nice?? they all just. clenches fists. theyre so good ot4 pegoryugorokita

goroann besties is real in my heart. also goroharu being like the Cursed besties ever in the end like. my god they have such a wack and unhinged platonic soulmates/kindred spirits potential. goromako rivals forever my guy they are so fucking funny. and ryukoto is kinda cute...

i think shumako is nice but its just not my cuppa tea. they are dear friends and i do love the image of ren and makoto being a bit rivalcoded and butting heads over phantom thievery and how to lead the team best. and goro is weirdly the one who can actually somehow stop arguments before they happen and get them to compromise.

makoto is NOT the mom friend okay she is the bossy and protective older sister friend. and she is smart and sensible but not immune to her friends infecting her with Stupid. ren is the mom friend. and the dad friend. best of both things. :)

ren: its hard raising 8 kids when youre in high school and an 18 y/o whos like if a divorced widow was a boy 😔 sojiro: what happened to your husband??? ren: he was lost at sea goro: ren, look at this dog i saw on my way here ren: i can still hear his voice

meanwhile i love futago half siblings headcanon. so while goro and makoto are a little more sibling rivalry coded, futaba is still goros actual gremlin sibling who will bully him to death. meanwhile, futaba is actually adoptive siblings with ren. these two are WAY more sibling coded than goro and futaba ever.

and when futaba starts trying to do similar Sibling dynamic things with goro. goro is like ??? "ren, futaba just came in here. stared at me. burped. and then left. what does this mean." and ren is like. "oh is there food? theyre probably telling you theres food and to come out if you want some. or if this is your first time seeing them today they could just be greeting you." and goro is like ????? but louder this time

i love shujin trio poly... and i default to them being the OG Cule. shuann? v cute love them. ryuann? also cute and honestly v funny of how messy i imagine their hookups being. like they keep breaking up and eventually finding their way back to each other. sometimes i see them as sibling coded, too, more than anything else. overall i just love these three together they are the tomodachis of all time they are partners for life

i also love ryuharu. and harukita (yuharu?) theyre really cute.... then theres good ol makoharu and annmako (makoann?) and i love them too... honestly love hifumi and makoto too?? i think they would be huge fucking dorks together... perhaps.... rivals, even?

goro and hifumi being friends... good shit. hifumi and yusuke being close friends? plz... and ren and hifumi are just. wahh i love them theyre so good. even futaba and hifumi could be cute, honestly.... wtf

and we cannot forget ANNSHIHO,,, forever. my GORLS.... lesbiabs of my heart.

anntaba is a rare one but theyre also v cute to me... and if they arent girlfriends i love the idea of futaba having a crush on her and then realizing those feelings are actually just Admiration and Gender envy. i also love the idea of morgana finding out his crush on ann is ALSO GENDER ENVY RELATED.... we love nonbiney morgana. hope is genderless

ren: my CAT IS TRANS!? NOT CLICKBAIT?

and makoto is always being an older sister to futaba. yutaba is nice, too. i honestly see futaba and yusuke being aspec and theyre platonic soulmates and in a qpp. and ofc sumitaba my beloved... i love sumitaba a lot

i adore ryusumi too like oh myg od,,.. wahh.... the sweeties. sumikita is so rare but like. i think they could be kinda cute too?? sumigoro is V platonic soulmates to me like my god theyre so. clenches fist. honestly whole royal trio tbh is just. "they can make each other worse" and each of them thinking "thank god im the normal one here" thats it thats the whole dynamic. and its so funny.

shusumi is cute too but honestly i think i prefer both ren and goro have somethin of a platonic soulmates or older sibling dynamic with sumire. they have adopted her okay. sumiann isnt one i see a lot either but they.... THEM.....

any mishima ship is super funny imo but like, theyre cute. love yuuki having a crush on ren but like. the game makes it near impossible for you to actually be fucking nice to him so i always get the vibe that ren would rather keep him at a distance, even tho they appreciate him and care about him.

its okay tho cause i say hes good friends with the OG trio + shiho and they vibe. yuuki crushing on goro, to his own horror? hilarious. and weirdly enough shiho and ren?? idk what their acronym is. but. oh my god. theyre actually weirdly cute? but i see them having disaster twins energy. theyre absolute menaces.

[sailoryooons]

F*ck Christmas | myg (m)

❆ Paring: Yoongi x f. reader

❆ Summary: Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

❆ Word Count: 23,466

❆ Genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

❆ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❆ Warnings: Reader is miserable to start this and isn't very nice to Yoongi because she has Feelings and unpacked issues, a lot of nostalgia, mentions of depression and depictions of anxiety, mentions of parent deaths (Yoonig's mom, readers dad), a lot of familial guilt, reader isn't always The Best, Yoongi's dad has some failing memory with old age, Yoongi and reader and their endless pining, cheesy and very contrived scenarios, explicit language, recreational drinking, explicit sexual content including, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving) fingering (f. receiving), Big Dick Yoongi, bodily fluids, established safeword, honestly emotional fucking ok, reader being a bit in subspace/overwhelmed during sex, cheesy as fuck ending

❆ Published: December 28, 2022

❆ A/N: Holy shit this is finally done. It is days, late, about 10k more words than it was supposed to be because I couldn't shut the fuck up, and it is not my favorite thing I have ever written, but I hope that you enjoy it anyway, and that you find some comfort if you have a hard time during the holidays like I sure as shit do (which is why this fic is legit so late ijsdgkjng). Eternally grateful to M for being my mental crutch during this process, reading to make sure it doesn't suck and constantly assuring me I'm not writing a total car wreck. Super pleased to have been able to write with @here2bbtstrash @gimmethatagustd and @nabiolive so please please please make sure you check out their fics when they're posted (Jai's is posted now so GO READ!!!!)

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

  Masterlist | Ask |  Collab Masterlist

The monotonous shuffle of feet, mechanical click of the baggage claim conveyor, and three-toned chime before a muffled and completely unintelligible airport announcement work together in tandem to make a grating symphony. 

You spot your neon green, plastic suitcase drifting through the black flaps of the conveyer. As it nears, a cluster of people block your access, huddling and waiting for their bags right up against it. With an angry sigh, you navigate around them, throwing a glare as you reach for your back and haul it off the conveyor. 

People who crowd baggage claim when their bags aren’t out are at the top of your travel intolerances, second only to people who clap when the plane lands. 

Wheeling your suitcase toward the entrance as fast as you can, you look at your lock screen to see that your mother has blown up your phone with text messages.

[Mom]: Gate G

[Mom]: I’m at gate G

[Mom]: I still have the white Macaran. Gate G I am waiting by it.

[Mom]: What are you wearing? I will try to pull up closer. 

[Mom]: They are asking me not to wait. Do you have your bags yet? Is it close to Gate G?

“For the love of Christ,” you mutter under your breath, shoving the device in your pocket. 

The airport doors open, making a stuttering suction sound as they do. Cold air hits you in the face, making you flinch and squint. 

Just near the column marked ‘G’ your mother waits in her white car, waving wildly when she sees you. Despite your temporary annoyance, you give her a tight-lipped grin as she climbs out of the car, running to you with hand motions signaling she wants your bag. 

“Hi, hi!” she cheers, grabbing you quickly for a brief hug before making grabbing motions toward your bag. “Here, let me! Let me!”

“It’s fine,” you assure, trying to wheel the heavy bag away from you. You both end up wheeling it together, your mom refusing to let go of the handle until she’s opening the trunk and you’re hauling it into the back. “Thanks.”

Inside the car, the leather seats are heated and the hot air is blasting enough to threaten a nosebleed. You close the vents as your mother gets in, saying something you can’t hear over the blaring horns, slamming of her door, and fumbling with her seatbelt.

“What?”

“How was your flight?”

Awful. Long. Filled with absolute dread of the finality of your one-way ticket. Wondering if the movers had successfully delivered your shit to storage and dropped your car off at your mother’s house.

Naturally, you say none of these things. You offer canned responses with forced happiness that your mother doesn’t detect. She’s just happy to see you. The thought makes you soften a little.

Outside the world is covered in sheets of white. You know the winding roads well. Your mother talks about how it’s just the two of you for Christmas morning, but that she is volunteering at the homeless shelter on Christmas Eve. You take this in with a soft hum, eyes watching as you pass Mulberry street.

If you drive down another mile and take a left, you’ll be at Plaza Center, the mecca of your childhood with a movie theater, a Blockbuster turned Mattress Firm, Lucky Strike bowling alley, and a combination grocery store and liquor store where you used to huddle outside in the cold while waiting for someone’s fake ID to work. 

Soft music plays in the background as the tires hum on the road. You pass by the newer additions to the town – Starbucks, Olive Garden, Longhorns – they’ve all replaced longtime restaurants and a laser tag place that you remember having three birthdays in a row at. 

“Tired?” your mom asks, drawing you from trying to draw up the red brick houses from memory instead of watching them blur by. You hum. “You can take a nap later, get that airplane yuck off of you. Yoongi is working on fixing those damned cabinets. He ripped out the whole thing-“

“What?” 

“What what?”

“Why is Yoongi in your house?”

Your mother blinks at you owlishly as she pulls up to the stop light. You realize suddenly that she’s in one of your father’s old sweatshirts from university. It cuts you like a knife as you readjust yourself in the seat, suddenly tense and griping the door. 

“Min Yoongi still lives here?”

“Of course he does,” she scoffs and turns when the light changes. “Do you not keep up with him? You guys used to be such good friends.”

“Why is he at the house?”

“I just told you, he’s re-doing those damn cabinets. They had mold in them.”

For a moment, you just slow-blink at your mother. Min Yoongi is in her house – your house, now. You haven’t seen him since college. You knew he had moved back after school to help move his dad into a home, but he was supposed to leave once his dad was settled. 

He was… well he was supposed to be a big-shot architect. You just assumed he was. It occurs to you that you can’t remember the last time you even looked at Yoongi’s social media, though that was more on purpose than you’d like to admit.

Who wants to see what their life-long crush is still up to after they’ve long stopped talking to you?

“So you had him do our cabinets? He’s an architect, not a contractor.” 

“You really don’t know shit,” your mom laughs. “Yoongi took over his dad’s shop down on Miriam. Home Depot keeps trying to run him out, but most of us still like the comfort of Min’s Hardware. Plus, he spends the entire last quarter of the year building toys and the like for the children’s home and new chairs and furniture for the old folks home.”

You pause. “Is Old Man Min-“

It’s hard to bring yourself to finish the sentence. You remember the bleak affair of summer 09’ when Yoongi’s mother passed away, but you feel like someone would have told you if his father had passed. 

Thankfully, your mother shakes her head. “Still kicking. Yoongi didn’t want to sell out to one of those land development companies, though. They kept trying to pressure him – they want to open up a Super Target – but he said no.”

“Huh.” You lean back in the seat as your mom turns down your street. There is a sense of trepidation as you pass rows of brick-and-mortar homes with nondescript cars in the drive. “Good for him. Fuck Target.”

“Yeah, well. I wouldn’t mind a target, but I certainly don’t want it to replace Min’s.” 

A dark blue truck sits in the drive of your home. It’s hard not to focus on it, your eyes drifting from the swan-shaped mailbox to the giant blow-up decorations still wiggling, even covered in snow. The wind chimes are frozen on the porch and there’s a tarp on the swing set in front of the kitchen window.

The kitchen window, where you vaguely make out a shape with his back turned.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You have no reason to be nervous to see Min Yoongi and yet the thought of awkwardly walking into the kitchen like hey how are you threatens to make your demand your mom drive you back to the airport even though you have nowhere to go.

No home to go back to. No fiancé to-

Your mom shuts off the dark and slides out. She’s still rattling on about the developers buying up land and putting in condos and luxury apartments that no one can afford. You’re a beat behind her, slipping a little on the icy drive as you scramble out of the vehicle and retrieve your bag. 

Inside your chest, your heart pounds against your ribcage. You keep glancing out the window, wondering if you’ll suddenly see Yoongi’s soft, sweet face. Kicking ice off her boots on the porch, your mother opens the door as she talks on, breezing in and to the side to take off her boots.

You step in awkwardly. Unfamiliar. 

Everything in your view is the exact way you remember it, except suddenly… None of this feels like yours. Or like anything that has ever belonged to you. To your right, there is an open doorway that leads to the study – or the computer room as your dad chronically called it. It’s dark inside but you can see the indents on the carpet from the faded office chair, and the power-down Dell on the desk with multiple broken drawers. 

On the right is a cubby where you can kick your shoes off and hang your bag. You follow your mother’s example and take off your boots, feeling in a daze as your eyes drift down the hall. There’s a set of stairs that lead to the second floor just beyond the door to the computer room, and the living room and kitchen open up at the end of the hall.

Christmas music and the smell of cinnamon float down. There’s a lump in your throat as your mom walks toward the living room – and ultimately where the kitchen is. And Yoongi. Who is apparently hammering at something loudly, from the sounds of all the banging that drowns out the sound of Michael Bublé. 

“I’m gonna lay down,” you blurt before your mom can enter Yoongi’s line of vision. You’re frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, heart hammering. “The plane ride really exhausted me and I have a bit of a headache. Yoongi’s banging will make it worse.”

She frowns. “Well at least come to say hello.”

“I’ll see him later,” you assure her, moving toward the hardwood stairs and bending to pull up your bag. “It’s a small town, no big deal. Tell him I said hello.”

You’re halfway up the stairs when your mother says your name, irritation evident. You don’t respond, jogging the rest of the way. The bottom of your bag clips one of the stairs, making you stumble. You curse and recover before rushing down the right side of the hall, past the pictures on the wall and your open bathroom with the mermaid curtains straight into your room where you slam the door.

Leaning against it, you close your eyes and take a few breaths. In and out. In and out. Downstairs, the hammering pauses. You assume your mother is talking to Yoongi. Guilt eats away at you like a worm to an apple. You shove it down and walk into your room proper, trying not to think about how you want to avoid the man downstairs at all costs. 

Collapsing on your bed, you flinch and grab the mattress, forgetting how springy it is as they twang under the sudden weight. Your room is exactly how you left it. Aquamarine walls, a sea turtle lamp, a horrible collection of Justin Bieber memorabilia including a lunch box you can’t ever remember using, and an old box TV with a tiny DVD player. 

A broken lava lamp stands frozen in time on the white, paint-chipped dresser. You wonder if it even turns on anymore. The rolling closet door is open, empty save for extra sheets and towels and a couple of Vera Bradley duffle bags your mom never tossed out. 

Everything is the same and yet… you have never felt more like a stranger in your own home.

Pulling the scale pattern quilt from under you to wrap yourself in, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, although the hammering downstairs starts once again.

-

A knock on the door and your mom’s voice telling you to come eat dinner pries you from sleep. Your limbs feel heavy and your back and neck ache with the unfamiliarity of the springy bed. Your thoughts are honey-thick as you try to remember that you’re not in your apartment – your old apartment that is no longer yours – and that your ex is not with you.

Mouth dry and limbs sluggish, you manage to trek down the stairs, footsteps heavy and awkward. There's still Christmas music playing somewhere in the living room, but it’s at a manageable volume now. You try not to think about it too much, finding Christmas music particularly grating this year.

The smell of dinner drifts from the kitchen and your stomach growls viciously, reminding you that you only had cheese and crackers for lunch. You rub your eyes, entering the open concept area with the kitchen facing the living room and the dining room tucked on the side of the kitchen against the glass-paned windows that look out into the yard.

Your mom sets something on the table and straightens, gesturing to something on the island countertop as she says, “Will you bring those potatoes over, Yoongi? I keep forgetting them on the counter.”

Two things happen at once. 

The first thing that happens is the slow-blink turning of your head, suddenly aware that a man is standing in your kitchen looking at you. Your feet glue themselves to the floor and your mouth parts a little in surprise and confusion that there is another human being in your house outside of you and your mother. 

The second thing that happens is the surge of panic and curiosity slamming into one another, two rogue waves at war as they unsteady the sleeping waters of your mind post-nap. You feel the urge to turn on your heel and run back up the stairs, but you’re stuck staring at Yoongi, both terrified to see him and... well you haven’t seen him in a while. You’re curious. 

Yoongi’s hair is blonde - a color he hasn’t had in years - with silky lowlights that look really good on him. Though most of it is tucked behind delicate, round ears that are decorated with his signature silver hoops, a few rogue strands fall endearingly over soft cat eyes. He’s broad in the shoulders, the material of his shirt pulled taught over the hint of biceps.

And Yoongi’s face – devastating as always. You always thought that he looked like a child of the moon goddess, smooth, milky skin with a rose-flushed mouth. His mouth as always looks soft, and as it breaks into a smile now when he sees you, it feels like the entire world might spin out of control. 

“Have a good nap?” Yoongi questions. His voice is so much deeper, raspy, and soft, and nothing at all like what you remember. But it’s been how long since you’ve seen him? At least four years. Maybe five. 

“Huh?” you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, your brain unable to connect the dots and form anything else.

Yoongi chuckles and ducks his head a bit, pink in the cheeks. He picks up the glass dish of potatoes that your mother asked for, rounding the island and putting it on the dining room table. He moves in your childhood home with ease, returning to the kitchen and popping up a drawer for a serving spoon.

“Jet lag, much?” that teasing tone of his is still there and you suddenly remember being in the ninth grade, hiding your face in your hands because he was poking fun at you for something innocent. “I don’t bite.”

“Why are you here?” Again, you’re unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth. This time, however, you have enough sense to realize how rude it sounds. Swallowing past the rapidly forming knot of anxiety, you move toward the table. “You don’t have a headache from all that hammering you’ve been doing?”

Yoongi shrugs and sits down at the table across from where your mother has seated herself, pouring a glass of red for herself. “You seem to have slept through it fine.”

“Yeah, well.” You sit down next to your mom, suddenly feeling defensive. “A five-hour flight will do that to you.”

Yoongi hums, agreeing as he glances up at you again. You’ve had dreams about those damn eyes, written about them in childhood diaries. Wondered about them late at night, when your ex was fast asleep next to you.

Thoughts and memories of Min Yoongi paint several parts of your life. Childhood crush. Close friend. The subject of your dreamy sighs. The crush had worn off around college, but there was always that something when you looked at him. Perhaps the acknowledgment that he was impossibly beautiful and charming. 

Or maybe the inescapable fact that you might always harbor something extra for him.

Averting your gaze, you clear your throat and grab the bottle of wine from your mom, pouring a healthy amount. “Why are you ripping out the cabinets anyway?”

“There was mold in the back of them.” He accepts a plate of meat from your mother. “I came over to help your mom pull down that bone china she keeps hidden away and found it.”

You glance at your mom. “You couldn’t use a ladder?”

“You try having old hips,” she huffs. “Yoongi isn’t that far. He’s a doll and he’s always a phone call away.” 

There is nothing wrong with Yoongi helping your aging mom. At least, that is what you tell yourself as she asks Yoongi about a TV show both of them have been watching. You fill your plate and listen to them, hovering on the edge of a conversation you can’t contribute to.

“And then she had the nerve to act like she was holier than thou,” your mother agrees, shaking her head. “The Greens are going to get theirs, now that Alicent was exposed for a snake.”

Yoongi snorts. “I don’t know, no one ever gets punished the way we want on that show.”

“Who is Alicent?” you ask, dubious.

Both of them look at you. Your mom waves you off with a roll of her eyes at Yoongi. “She doesn’t watch TV. I’ve been begging her to watch for weeks now. Thankfully you caved in.”

“I just don’t have time for TV.”

Your mom pats your hand delicately. It doesn’t feel comforting like it should. “I know. Thankfully I can gossip about it with Yoongi.”

They seem comfortable. Your mom laughs as Yoongi rants about some character arch you have never heard of. You watch as your mom cuts into her steak alongside him, handing him sauce for his diced pieces. He thanks her easily, not missing a beat as he uncaps it.

Suddenly, you feel like a stranger in your own house. All this time you’ve been living on the other side of the country, Yoongi has been here doing... whatever it is that he does. Making himself comfortable in your home. Filling a space for you. And now that you’re here, it’s like you don’t exist.

No one asks you how you’ve been. No one asks for a single detail about your life. Whether it’s out of pity because they know you’ve been left out in the cold with no home, no fiance, and leave from work because... well they felt bad that you were cheated on and booted from your apartment.

It's like you don’t exist anywhere. You don’t exist in your mom’s life. You don’t exist in Yoongi’s.

And it drives you mad.

You get up abruptly from the table, startling both of them. “I’m feeling ill,” you mutter tightly. You’re moving away from the table as your mother sputters, surprised. “I’ll try to eat later, I’m going to lie down.”

“Do you need help up the stairs?”

Yoongi’s question and concern seem genuine. It makes the sudden gnawing feeling inside of you even worse. “No,” you snap. “Enjoy your dinner and conversation.”

They both call after you as you turn and hightail it out of the kitchen and toward the steps. Everything feels blurry and the tightening of your threat is the only warning of sudden tears. It feels silly and pathetic, to suddenly be worked up into a frenzy over – well you’re not really sure over what. But it doesn’t sting any less, whatever this sense of feeling left out is.

Crawling into your bed, you pull the covers over your head just like you used to when you lived here last. The tears burn hot down your face and you press the heels of your hands into your eyes, as though you can grind the tear ducts to dust. 

You hate being home. You hate that it doesn’t feel like home. But most of all, you hate that at the height of your misery and embarrassing life, Min Yoongi now has front row tickets.

Somehow, you manage to sleep.

-

The sound of thunder wakes you up in the morning. No, it’s not thunder. Thunder comes and goes in slow rolls of sound, fading, and building in a gentle percussion. This is the constant booming of something bang bang banging in a repetitive pattern. 

Irritation drags you from sleep. You peel the covers from over your face, blinking and groaning in the morning light that filters through the curtain. Crust forms in the corner of your eye. You rub furiously until you see colors explode behind your lids.

Blinking until your room swims into view, you stare up at the ceiling a little longer until you remember that you’re in your childhood room. And that the loud banging sound coming from downstairs is probably Yoongi.

The sticky, nasty feeling from last night curls inside of you again. Less potent, but still there. Looking back on it, you feel a little dramatic. Watching Yoongi and your mom exist in a space so easily without you while you were there triggered a sliver of guilt you had been nursing since you decided to move home. 

Even now, you ignore the feeling as you slip down the stairs and toward the kitchen. The hunger is demanding and ever-present, and though you’re unsure you want to face Yoongi again after last night, you can’t ignore the dizziness from lack of food. 

Sunlight filters in through the kitchen window. Dust motes float in the air, suspended in gold light. There are pieces of wood and metal piles of hinges and knobs, screws rolling across the counter, and plastic-wrapped pieces of hinges and bolts, but it’s still your kitchen.

There’s still white backsplash against the sink with a yellow duck soap dispenser. There’s a black fridge with chip-clip magnets holding up pictures of your family, your graduation photos, and drawings that you created as a child. The island countertop is buried in Yoongi’s supplies, but you imagine that if it weren’t, there’d be fake fruit in a basket with mugs full of tea gone cold.

Today, Yoongi is in a black, oversized t-shirt, and a beanie. There’s a small speaker next to him, Michael Bublé singing clearly through the kitchen as Yoongi slides a shelf into one of the newly constructed cabinets. 

“You really like Bublé.”

Yoongi flinches, turning around to see you hovering and hesitating near the kitchen counter. He grins a little, wiping his hands on his pants. His blonde hair just barely peaks out from underneath the beanie and his face is flushed red as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the counter. There are dark circles under his eyes, but he otherwise looks beautiful first thing in the morning.

“I like Christmas music,” he offers with a shrug. “Tis the season.”

“Hmm.” Your eyes scan the kitchen. “Is there a way to make coffee in this mess?”

He nodes and moves a cabinet, revealing the coffee maker. “Ta-da.” You huff once in laughter before going to your fridge in search of creamer. You sense Yoongi’s dark gaze on you as you do. “How are you feeling?”

“Hmm?”

“From last night? Feeling better?”

“Oh.” You shut the fridge and avoid his gaze. “Yeah.”

He hums. You flick the lid on the coffee and pause, looking around the kitchen for one of the pods to make the coffee. Yoongi leans over with a chuckle and pulls open a drawer, revealing rows of neatly placed Keurig cups.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. 

“Mhmm.” You pop it in and turn the machine on. “How long is your cabinet project going to take?”

“I’ll be finished by tomorrow. Why? Want me gone that bad?”

“You’re loud.”

“Comes with the nature of the job. Sorry, usually no one is here in the morning. Your mom is at the park.”

“Since when does she go on walks?”

He shrugs, dubious of your confusion. “She always goes on walks. Jeez, you have been gone a long time.”

“So what?” You snap, arms crossed. “You know everything about my mom now?”

“I spend a lot of time with her. I help her around the house and she brings me lunch and makes dinner sometimes. I keep her company.”

Tension creeps into your shoulders and neck. Pressing your mouth into a firm line, you turn your back to him, unable to make eye contact as the little sliver of guilt in you strikes at him, viper quick. “Cause I wasn’t here to do it, right?”

“That isn’t at all what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Your name leaves his mouth with a sigh. “Have I done something to upset you? You haven’t seemed keen on me being here since last night. I was excited to see you after all this time and catch up.”

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“I mean it’s been five years-”

“Sorry I left town because I had a life. I get it, I left home and left my parents here and my mom has been lonely since my dad passed. You’re a knight in shining armor, I get it.”

“What?” You ignore looking at him, despite shuffling closer to you as you pour creamer into your coffee. You feel a nasty tension in your throat. Somewhere, you know that you’ve launched a hate campaign against Yoongi within twenty-four hours of being home. And yet you don’t look at him. “I - wow. Okay, I didn’t think that of you at all. We seem to be on wildly different pages, why would I ever think that?”

Before you can answer, the front door opens and closes. Your mom's arrival has you slithering toward the kitchen’s exit, throwing Yoongi a glance. His frown is deep and genuine concern flickers in his eyes. “I don’t think that,” Yoongi ventures again, trying to keep you in the conversation. “I think a lot of things about you, but that isn’t one. This conversation has really gotten away from me, can we start over?”

“It’s fine,” you mutter. “Sorry for assuming.” 

Your mom waves, shrugging off ice-covered boots and a jacket at the door. You wave and rush out that you’re going up for a shower to wash off the airport funk. She waves you off and grins, heading down the hall and launching into a conversation with Yoongi. 

A nasty feeling trails you up the steps. You don’t even make it to the top of the stairs before you already know you’ve been irrational, emotional, and completely out of line. But seeing Yoongi after all this time, seeing the way he’s there for your mom in ways you aren’t, and nursing wounds of moving home against your will and plans… it’s a lot to swallow. 

In your room, you sit on the bed with your coffee on the nightstand, head dropped into your hands as you cry. It’s been coming all night. It’s been coming since you caught your ex in the apartment with another person. It’s been coming since you were no longer what they wanted in mind, body, and soul. It had been coming since you were asked to leave the apartments because you had moved in - not the other way around. 

The pain festering inside of you for the last two and a half weeks isn’t Yoongi’s fault. In fact, part of you is surprised that your grief and guilt at dedicating the last five years to someone who you didn’t even like that much and who has now cheated on you has surfaced in the face of Min Yoongi. 

It isn’t his fault that you rarely came home to start. It isn’t his fault that after Christmas two years ago, you didn’t want to come home at all. Didn’t want to be in a home without your dad. Didn’t want to be in a home that wasn’t in your new city, away from old failures, away from old hurts. Didn’t want to be in a home down the street from the Mins.

“Jeez,” you laugh at yourself, no mirth evident. “What better way to kick off seeing Yoongi again?”

-

Yoongi finishes the cabinets the next day and you manage to avoid seeing him again, unsure how to fix the weirdness. 

A few days later, you come down to see your mom on the couch, tucked into a flannel-patterned blanket, and watching Hallmark movies. You cringe at the thought of poorly budgeted, badly scripted movies. Your mom, however, has always loved them. And your dad always watched them with her.

Something softens inside of you. You can’t remember the last time your ex willingly watched anything they were uninterested in for your sake. Perhaps because they had long been fucking someone else. 

Shaking the thought from your mind, you trail to your mom, slipping wordlessly onto the couch and pulling an extra blanket over your legging and socks. Your mom shoots you a wide grin, eyes crinkling at the edges. She reaches over, patting your hand and squeezing it before settling in, keeping her hand on yours. 

Though you turn to the TV, your eyes sting as you try to focus on the plot of a newly single woman who has moved back to her sleepy hometown during the holidays. Naturally, there is a storied past with the beautiful but sensitive male lead who owns a failing bookshop. It’s unsurprising when the female lead takes a job there unwillingly, and you watch 

“These are very cheesy,” you observe, watching as the two leads fall in love over clumsily spilled coffees, one full of Christmas cheer and one that hates Christmas. “Why do you like them so much?”

Your mom shrugs. “They always have a happy ending, they’re easy to follow along, and they fuel that little hope that the holidays have something a little special.” She looks at you when you grunt and she sighs. “I know you haven’t had very good holidays the last few years. But you used to really enjoy them.”

“They’re just… too much. It’s just another day.”

“Hmm. They mean a lot to some people, though. Take Yoongi for example - he’s doing extra work at the shop selling wares, making pieces for Christmas, and trying to finish making toys for the children’s home this year. He hardly sleeps.”

You think about the dark circles under Yoongi’s eyes that morning. “That’s a lot.”

“He could use the help.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye. “You know where the shop is.”

“Yeah.”

Morning fades into afternoon. You find yourself shaking your head around a mouthful of a sandwich with crunchy chips in the middle as your mom settles next to you, placing a glass of iced tea on the table. Your legs are crossed and you lean forward to press greasy, chip fingers into the paper towel you’re using as a napkin.

“She is so stupid if she doesn’t believe him,” you mumble around your mouth full of food. “Like hello? He has no reason to lie to her.”

Your mom's laughter fills the room and she shrugs. Somehow, you’re on your third Hallmark movie, and you haven’t managed to move or do anything productive with your day, like unpacking your bags or looking at the computer room full of the shit that the movers delivered to your mother’s house now that you don’t have a house. 

“If she believed him,” your mom says with a sip of tea, “Then there wouldn’t be any drama. And without drama, there would be no movie.”

“Ugh, all of these movies are the same.”

And yet you make no move to turn it off or leave. 

When you finish your sandwich and settle back, full and bloated, you realize that you’re rather enjoying just a day watching cheesy movies with your mom. Even if they hit a little close to home on the narrative of your current situation. 

But no - you’re different. Your life is real, and you’re stuck without a home and without a place to go. Clenching your jaw, you force the memories and the words to leave. You don’t want to think about the way your ex gently asked if you had somewhere else to go. You don’t want to think about the words I’m sorry. I love you but I’m not in love with you anymore. 

I mean, you weren’t either but… marriage still seemed like an okay option. A good social move. Something you’d be content with, even if you weren’t head over heels in love.

“Here,” you hold your hand to her for her empty plates. “I’ll do the dishes.” 

Getting away from the TV gives you a second to breathe. The rush of the faucet drowns out the sound of the TV, warm water rushing over your fingers as you run the plates underwater.

Outside, the world is a blanket of snow. You can see Mr. Park across the street shoveling the drive as his wife gets into the car, the taillights kicking on. The grass is frozen, a sea of ice and frozen Christmas decorations.

In the drive, your car is parked next to your mom’s sedan. She hadn’t mentioned that it was delivered, but you don’t know where you would go anyway. You don’t really have any friends to visit. At least, not anyone you’ve kept in touch with enough to call up and go to lunch.

The absence of Yoongi’s truck reminds you that he had been working on the cabinets, drawing your eyes to his craftsmanship as you flip the sink off. With dried hands, you brush your fingers over the lightly stained wood. It’s smooth and cool to the touch, the curves and indents artfully done. 

Yoongi had always been an exceptional artist. His passion has been in buildings and even interior design, but you’re not surprised to see that he’s as easily a handyman and woodworker as he is anything else. 

You think back to what your mom said about him, alone for the holidays and working hard. A sour taste sits heavy on your tongue as you think about your barbed words. 

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you lean against the counter and pull your phone out, flipping through social media until you find his page. There isn’t much in the way of family and friends, but there are plenty of photos of new projects and a beautiful black cat. 

I was excited to see you after all this time and catch up. 

Heaving a sigh, you push off the counter and announce that you’re going to get dressed to run a few places, telling your mom to make you a list if she needs anything. 

Getting dressed is harder than you expect. The urge to crawl back into bed and go to sleep almost wins out, but you somehow manage to pull on the jeans and thick sweater, followed by a scarf and jacket.

There is something empty and strange about the motions. It feels like you’ve forgotten the movement, the slide of clothes foreign to your skin. After two weeks of making phone calls and arrangements for an over-priced hotel bed, you supposed you haven’t gotten dressed much recently. 

Picking up the list from your mom and giving her a kiss, you’re out of the door, glancing down at her slanted script. You huff, laughter cut short by the bite of cold wind. Of course everything she needs is from Min’s Hardware, though you had been planning to go by there anyway.

With a deep breath and squared shoulders, you get in the car and think about how the hell to apologize to Yoongi.

-

Min’s Hardware had its first building expansion when you were in tenth grade. You remember how excited you were when Yoongi told you that his parents bought out the recently emptied arcade next door to add a lumber department. Even in tenth grade, Yoongi had sketched out aisles and systems for the store, layout after layout of the most functional way to accommodate the expansion. 

Before opening day, the two of you and some other kids in the neighborhood had run through the aisles, the smell of cedar and pine and fresh sawdust so wonderfully potent it made you dizzy. Yoongi specifically had shown you the different types of wood and pliability, explaining what he would use each for. 

By then, it was summer heading into eleventh grade and he had already decided he wanted to be an architect. He had insane drawings for new shopping centers the next city over, and wild renderings of his dream buildings full of avant-garde but functional structures. 

From the parking lot, you can see that Yoongi still occupies the same two spaces Min’s has stood in since tenth grade. Except now it shares a parking lot with a Starbucks and Chipotle building, melded together. The line for coffee snakes around the building into the empty parking lot in front of Min’s, a mismatched creature of metal and purring engines. 

Icy ground makes you slip a bit before you steady yourself on the door handle, gasp stuck in your chest before you can breathe out slowly, confident that you won’t slide and bust your ass. 

From the outside, Min’s looks both the same and different. There is a new sign above the store, now with its own light humming in the dark, gray winter sky. Tinted windows prevent you from seeing inside entirely, but you can see the faint outline of racks as you approach. 

Standing in front of the double doors, you suddenly feel the urge to spin on your heel and run in the other direction. If the inside still looks the same, though, the counter is right next to the door, which means if Yoongi is there, he can see you.

Standing. Staring. Looking at the cold, metal handle of the door and not doing anything. 

“Rip the bandaid off,” you mutter to yourself. 

Yanking the door open startles you, the bell on the door chiming wildly with the force of your pull. It’s the same bell that was here when you were a teen, and a tingle slithers down your back at the memory. 

It's warm. The smell of mixed wood hits you, soothing and fresh. To your left is a counter with an elderly gentleman reading a book. He looks up behind the POS system, grinning at you. He’s dressed in a long sleeve shirt with a festive sweater to match the Christmas soundtrack playing over the speakers. 

Your eyes flicker to his badge and you fold your lips to stop the giggle that threatens to escape when you look at his name tag: Elf Ian. 

“Good afternoon, miss!” he greets, shuffling behind the counter. There’s no one else in the store as you crane your head away from the register, looking at the rows and rows of hardware and things for sale. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Yoongi?”

“Mr. Min is back in the carpentry section. I can take you there.”

You wave him off with a smile. “No, that's okay, I know the way.” 

“Really? You’ve been here before? You look like a new face.”

“It’s been a while,” you admit, admiring the layout of the store, each of the towering metal shelves marked with aisle numbers and departments: electrical, flooring, lighting, hardware, paint, heating and cooling, and so on. It’s not as comprehensive as a Home Depot or a Lowe’s, but Min’s has everything that a small town needs. “Back and to the right?” 

He nods with a smile. 

The Rockettes play overhead as you wander toward the back of the store. You take the paint aisle, admiring all of the colorful paint swatch papers. Your shoes scuff on the floor, speckled with some paint splatter near the spray section as though some kids got into the supply. 

You distinctly remember Yoongi accidentally spraying a bright pink into the air once. 

All of the pricing is written in neat, slanted handwriting on thick brown pieces of paper. You pause at the end of an aisle, reaching out to press a finger against one to trace the letters. You recognize the font from years worth of scribbled and pressed flat architecture designs. 

The carpentry section has rows and rows of wood of different shapes, sizes, and variety. Behind all of that is a sizable desk for specialty services, and you know that the door leads to a room that houses Yoongi’s woodworking shop. It had once been the bowling alley section of the arcade before Old Man Min bought out the unit. 

No one mans the tall, L-shaped desk. There are several binders with types of wood, types of stains, project ideas, samples, and frames. You smile when you see some you recognize, the peeling plastic of the front evidence of old age. 

A large counter behind the desk has a few wrapped items that Yoongi must have to be shipped or picked up. There’s a cup of coffee that looks like it’s gone cold, a jar full of wrapped mints for the taking, and a small button that says ‘push for service’ next to the POS system. 

Swallowing thickly, you press the button. An automated chime echoes from behind the wooden swing door that leads to the woodshop. Before Yoongi took over, his father used to make furniture, fill custom orders and make repairs. It’s no surprise that Yoongi has opted to take over this portion, especially if he’s making custom orders for the children’s home. 

The door swings open, breaking your trance. Yoongi pulls up short, eyebrows raise as he wipes sawdust from his apron. He’s in a sweater and jeans today, the sleeves pushed up to his elbow to help him work and his blonde hair shaggy and a little unruly. The pink sheen on his cheeks and nose is all you need to know he had been working pretty hard.

“Hi,” he offers tentatively, looking you up and down. You hate that he looks so guarded. “Coming to custom order a rocking horse?”

You grin. “Actually I was wondering if you did chairs?”

“Hmmm.” He shuffles toward the counter, dropping his hesitance as he leans on his elbows, a sideways smirk on his face. Despite everything, it makes your stomach flip. “We do all kinds of chairs. Rocking, dining, bar stools, even church pews.”

“Wow, Min’s really is the best and where expectations are beyond the Minimum.”

Yoongi groans and covers his face with his hands, flushed pink as you laugh at him. “That’s not even our jingle anymore, okay? I was a kid when I came up with it.”

“I thought it was cute!”

“Yeah, you thought Jackson was cute in the fifth grade too.”

“Isn’t he on his third kid?”

Yoongi gives a loud laugh. “Sixth, Miss I Failed Algebra Twice. He and Jiah have their hands full, I just dropped off a new crib yesterday.”

You whistle, crossing your arms over your chest. Yoongi looks at you, eyes glittering as he smiles. It does something to you, to see your childhood crush here and happy. It’s at such odds with where you are in your life that you don’t know what to make of it. Even Jackson is married and happy with kids. 

“Impressive. You do a lot.”

He hums in agreement and stands up to stretch. “Holidays are always a demand. I’m just trying to keep up to make everyone’s Christmas magical.” You scrunch your nose at that and he frowns. “What?”

“Why does Christmas have to be extra special? It’s just another day.”

He beckons you to come around the counter and to the back as he turns to head for the swinging door. “Come on, Scrooge. Let me spread the magic of Christmas and lead you on your journey to redemption.”

Ignoring the ‘employees only’ sign on the waist-tall swing door that leads to behind the counter, you scoff and roll your eyes. Yoongi stands in the doorway leading to the back, propping it open with a foot for you. As you pass him, the bright light of his shop and the smell of wood stain and chemicals hits you instantly. 

“What do I need to redeem myself for?”

He lets the door swing shut and follows you in, taking the lead as he heads towards a table filled with goods. “For whatever you feel like you need it for.”

Yoongi’s words feel ominous and tug at your heartstrings. You suppose you do feel the need to make up for picking a fight with him. Which is why you ended up here in the first place, despite your mother’s list. 

The shop is a little different than you remember it, but some things are the same. There are giant slabs of wood to choose from in neat shelving, massive wood-cutting machines and saws with warning labels and plastic cards over serrated metal, tubs of chemicals to cleanse wood and shelves of bottles of different liquids for all of Yoongi’s processes. 

At a young age, you were never allowed back in the woodshop. The first day Old Man Min had finally let you come around the corner was just as magical as it feels now. It’s large and daunting, with all of the unfamiliar machinery and the loud hum of an air compressor near the back of the shop. 

A wireless speaker stands on a cluttered counter, blaring holiday tunes over the whine of the compressor until the machine kicks off and it’s just the echo of Grandma Got Ran Over by A Reindeer. 

“It’s weird being back here again,” you murmur, eyes sweeping the toys and pieces of furniture Yoongi has on a table with a laminated sign: children’s home. “You’re really making all of this yourself?”

“Mhmm.” He leans against the table, crossing his arms. “Someone has to. They needed extra toys this year but specifically, some serious upgrades to the rooms of the residents. I’m doing what I can, free of charge, of course.”

“You’re a saint.”

He puts his hands together in mock prayer and bats his eyes before you break out into laughter. He shrugs and murmurs, “Just someone who wants to help. They deserve good furniture year-round, but especially on the holidays.”

“Since when do you like the holidays so much?”

“Since I’ve started spending them alone.”

The answer hits you in the gut. Hard. You stop admiring the shop to look at Yoongi. There’s a soft openness to his face that unnerves you. Brutal honesty offered in exchange for nothing. No expectation for you to share, but proof that he has enough trust for you - however unearned - to just admit what he feels out loud.

That kind of introspection and understanding of self terrifies you. So instead of sharing something of yourself or offering a gentle word to communicate that you get it, or you’re sorry, you gesture to the table where he has carving knives and pieces of wood. “What are you working on?”

If your shift in conversation bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Yoongi rolls with your stilted punches, turning and walking to the table. “Working on carving some designs into the drawer faces for these nightstands I made.” 

“They’re beautiful.”

And they are. Flowers and vines curl on the edges of the wood, perfectly placed in the four corners of the slab. You reach out a hand and hesitate, looking at him to ask permission. He nods and you press your fingers along the grooves he’s carved, following the rough cuts, careful not to get a splinter. 

“You’re still artistic as hell.”

“Thanks. It’s hard on my hands and then I have to sand them all with paper to get into the small details which is hell.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. His words about redemption echo in your head: for whatever you feel like you need it for. 

“Need help?” He looks at you, surprised by your offer. You’re a little surprised too, but the way that you snapped at Yoongi haunts you and there’s something… else that is gnawing at you and has been since you saw him in your kitchen that first night on your return. “I’m serious.”

“If you want to sand some of these down…” 

You nod. “I think I remember how. Do you still keep the sandpaper in that Husky drawer?”

He gives you a crooked grin and nods. “Oooo she remembers. I’m honored.”

You feel warmth in your cheeks. “Tell me what needs to be sanded. I’ll do my best.” 

With a smile larger than what you probably deserve, Yoongi quickly rehashes how to hold the sanding paper, the technique he wants you to use, and assigns you a pile of drawer faces. With your project in front of you, Yoongi goes back to his own thing, the steady hammer against his carving tools drowning out any thoughts swirling in your mind.

At first, it’s slow going. Your shoulders are tense and you keep glancing at Yoongi, a little nervous and wondering why you offered to help. It wasn’t what you had intended to do when you walked into the store, but it feels like the best way to say sorry.

It also means you don’t have to audibly admit that you were being weird and embarrassing with him in your kitchen. 

Time passes and the tension in your shoulders begins to bleed out. The scritch scritch scritch of the sandpaper in your hands is soothing, the repetitive motions creating a soft buzz in your ears as you zone out on your task. 

Focusing on small things has always been a good thing for you. Even when you were little, having something that you could throw yourself into and let your anxieties and thoughts drift away to somewhere far away where they could not hurt you was paramount. 

Now, as the time passes without you noticing, thoughts of your cheating ex-fiance and old apartment melt away like ice on a snow drive. it’s just the pressure in your fingertips, manipulating the sandpaper into different folds to get into the creases of the design. 

Yoongi’s presence stirs your stomach and heart as you look up. He looks over your shoulder at your work before leaning in close to pick up one of the slabs of wood. He’s removed his gloves and runs his fingers over the designs. 

A shiver brushes up your spine as you zero in on Yoongi’s fingers. You have no idea if it’s your newly single status or the fact that it’s Yoongi that makes you stare open-mouthed and hypnotized. His fingers look a little callused from working wood, but you wonder how they’d feel if-

“Not bad,” he hums, giving you a grin before setting down the wood. “I’m pretty impressed. You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Please,” you mutter, looking down at the table and picking at splinters. “I helped you for hours when we were kids.”

“That’s cause I helped you with your math. It’s getting late and I’m a little tired. You hungry?”

You realize that you are. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you flip it over to see a few texts from your mom and realize that it’s almost seven at night. A sound of surprise escapes you and Yoongi laughs, tapping your elbow gently before walking away.

“Come on,” he insists. “We close early on Sundays. Help me turn all this shit off and close up and we can get food. My treat for helping out.”

“Yes to food, but you don’t have to-”

He waves you off. “Let me do something nice for you, yeah?”

Closing the store feels oddly familiar. While you have never watched Yoongi do it as the owner and operator, there were times as a kid when you finished your homework at the woodshop counter with Yoongi while you waited for his dad to get off and take you home after school. 

The Min’s don’t live far from your home and based on your mom calling Yoongi for every little thing, you assume that he lives in his childhood home now that his dad is in a home for elders. 

Outside, the world is winter-dark and bitter cold. it’s not snowing, but it’s that dreary in-between that makes everything feel heavy and cold-wet. Yoongi shuffles you toward his truck, both of you shivering and cursing as you slide into the cab and he turns it on, cranking the heat and turning on the seat warmers.

“Nice truck,” you comment. And it is nice. “New?”

“New-ish. Being the owner of Min’s Hardware really has its perks.”

You hum. “So you do own it? Just you?”

He nods, putting the car in drive and heading toward an unknown destination. Yoongi keeps his dark eyes on the road as he says, “Bought it from the Old Man when he decided to go into a senior living facility. He’s up at Retger’s - he loves it - but he wanted to put everything in my name before his mind started slipping.”

“I see.” You pick at the hem of your jacket, something heavy settling in your stomach. “How is he?”

“Happy. They have a great staff and a lot for him to do. His memory is on the downside of things. He always remembers me but he gets confused about his days and when I last saw him or what we talked about.”

“Is that hard?”

You almost kick yourself for the question. It slips out before you can ask, and you think of course it’s fucking hard. It’s his dad.

“It is,” Yoongi admits with a drawn-out sigh. Dead air hangs between the two of you as he navigates the backroads of your home, little streets and turns stitching into your very being. “Not sure what’s worse, though,” he adds, glancing at you. “Knowing that the days are numbered and being able to prepare, or losing him suddenly.”

It’s like a constrictor squeezes your windpipe as you look out the window. You can’t see the stars through the tops of the trees, but you get a glimpse of a swollen moon for a second. It’s beautiful and bright, your new point of focus as you nod. 

“I think we can agree that losing a parent is hard,” you offer. “Doesn’t matter how much notice you had.” You hesitate, then go for it. “I haven’t really figured out how to navigate life post-dad. It’s part of why I never come home. I think… I think my mom suffers from it a little.”

For a few moments, Yoongi is silent. You sink further into the seat. Though the admission weighs heavy on you, pressing you down down down into the leather seat, it also feels… good to admit it. Like running a burn under freezing cold water, the sting poignant but soothing at the same time. 

“I think that it’s okay to have your own life.” His voice is very quiet and he looks at you sideways. “And that we all deal with grief in a manner of ways. No one begrudges you for it, least of all your mom. I think you should cut yourself some slack.”

“Hmm,” is your only reply. 

Orange parking lot lights come into view. You chuckle a bit when Yoongi turns into Mars Diner. It’s something out of a Jetson’s episode, with large metal pieces like Saturn’s tilted rings arching over the building and a sun-bleached rocket blasting into the sky.

The lot is full and through frosted windows, you can make out shapes of people in booths. A few kids hang around outside, leaning against their cars and sitting on tailgates, breath misting in the cold. 

Yoongi parks the truck and hops out. You’re quick to follow, shutting the door with a firm click and hiding your hands from the cold in your jacket pockets. The door opens and the bell dings, sound pouring out as a family deposits themself onto the sidewalk.

“Hey there Yoongi,” one of the men says, backing up to hold the door open as the two of you approach. “How’s it going?”

“Hey Scott, it’s going well. How are those new stairs treating you?”

“Sturdy as can be. Thanks again for swinging by to help out.” The man - Scott Ledgfield, you realize - looks at you and squints before he says, “Holy shit kiddo, I haven’t seen you since you were a teenager.”

You look at the town’s local pharmacist with a tight grin, immediately feeling the eyes of his family and friends turn on you, ears pricked by the sound of someone old-but-new returning to the neighborhood. You give a small wave to the people you know.

“Uh,” you stammer. “Just got back. It’s nice to see you, Mr. Ledgefield.”

Your mom’s friend opens his mouth to perhaps ask more but Yoongi shuffles you toward the door and throws a hand in a farewell wave. “Jin will kill us if we keep this damn door open.”

Just as you step into the restaurant in full,  the door clanging shut behind you, a familiar voice hollers behind the counter. “Yoongi, don’t keep that damn door open!”

Inside the diner is exactly how you remember it. A round kitchen sits at the core of the building with two large serving windows facing the door. A full, 360-serving counter circles the kitchen with red vinyl stools in front of them, and booths with planet chandeliers over them are full of people looking over laminated menus.

At the helm of it all is Kim Seokjin standing at the register as he rips a receipt out of the machine, grinning as he hands it over to the woman he’s ringing out. There’s a chrome-color apron tied around his waist and he has a rocket ship name tag that says: Captain Kim.

“Wow,” you mutter as Yoongi waits patiently for the couple in front of him to pay. “Jin running this place with his parents now?”

“Mhmm. Kim Senior is in the back still making everything and his mom does all the billing and admin now. Jin does… well, what doesn’t he do?”

“Yes,” Seokjin agrees as the couple leaves and he leans on the counter, a plastic grin on his face. “What don’t I do?” His eyes slide to you. “Huh. I heard you were coming back to town and thought they were bullshitting me.”

“Who is they?” 

He waves his hand, before telling another server to jump on the register before he opens a swinging piece of counter open with his hip. “You know, the collective they everyone uses when they’re referencing the entire town.”

“I see.”

Seokjin looks the same as he did in college - broad shoulders, narrow waist, beautiful face and dark eyes that shine with trouble or mirth, depending on who you ask. He gestures to you and Yoongi to follow and you do, heading to the back corner near a frosted window that still has plates and baskets on the table.

“How have you been?” Seokjin asks as he begins collecting the previous diners' things. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you back here.”

“I’m okay. I think it’s just temporary, I haven't worked it out yet.”

“Hmm, we always say it’s temporary and now look at us - Yoongi is running Min’s and I’m one burnt hash brown from being spatula’d by a customer.” 

The vinyl covering sticks to your jeans as you try to slide. You’re forced to hop your way into the booth as Seokjin places the dirty plates and dishes on a round platter and grabs a bottle of cleaner from behind Yoongi’s side of the booth.

“Well,” you venture awkwardly. “There’s nothing wrong with being home, right?”

“No,” he agrees and gives you a look that you can’t read. “There’s not.”

Awkward silence hangs in the air at his tone. You chew on your lip and can’t help but feel like somehow you’ve offended him. You weren’t really friends with Seokjin growing up, but he was a friend of friends, and you knew him well enough to attend birthday parties growing up.

Now, you reach for a menu and busy yourself with it as Yoongi clears his throat and asks how business has been with the holiday only a few days away. Seokjin’s tone with you melts away as he answers Yoongi’s question, slinging a towel over his shoulder while chatting. 

A girl who looks in her late teens comes over with an order sheet and pen, sending Seokjin back toward the register where someone has a gift card that no one knows how to ring up. He leaves with a roll of his eyes as the server takes your order before scurrying away.

“Don’t let Jin make you feel weird,” Yoongi says airly, looking over the menu. The dim light from Saturn and Uranus reflect in his dark eyes when you peek at him over your menu. “He thinks you have a chip on your shoulder.”

You smack the table with your menu. “Why on earth does he think that?”

“Have some respect for the decor. We’re not on earth, we’re in space.”

“Yoongi.” 

“Look,” he sighs, putting his menu down. “When you graduated, you were very hellbent on letting everyone know that you didn’t want to come back. Then you got a very nice job in the city, and did just that and never turned back. Which is fine, I respect the hell out of you for it. But you didn’t talk to anyone, and now that you’re back under… whatever circumstances, you act like being here is going to hurt your reputation.”

“I’ve barely seen anyone while I’ve been here.”

“It’s… the posture and the way you look at everyone.” You frown and he grins, reaching over the table to poke the space between your eyebrows. “It’s that,” He insists. “You look at everyone with a very intense scowl and like you have better things to do. That’s all.”

“Do you think that?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

He looks up at you, expression soft. “I think a lot of things about you. Having a chip on your shoulder isn’t one of them.”

Before you can unravel the weight of his words and the rush of something you feel in response, the server returns with your glass of hard cider and Yoongi’s dark beer. You mull over his thoughts while he places his order and you rattle off your favorite, which you’re pleased to see is still on the menu. 

Quiet settles over the booth as you sip your drink, averting your gaze. He thinks you have a chip on your shoulder. 

When you think about it, you realize that you sort of do. 

Back when you had graduated high school and went to college just an hour away, you swore you wouldn’t go back and take up a job just to stay close to family and what you always knew. Coming from a small town, you felt like you had yet to see the world or experience anything real.

Even in college, it always felt like you were too close. All the same kids you went to high school with became your apartment neighbors and your university classmates, and everyone went to the same parties and fucked the same people.

It was like watching high school repeat all over again. Bringing home drama from college to the holidays, and then hearing what so-and-so did while they were home from school. 

The thought of ever coming back was suffocating. So you took the first job you found that felt like it was lightyears away, stuck right in the middle of corporate America in a screaming city that you could hardly sleep in for the first few months because you were overwhelmed and a little afraid.

City life had become addicting though, and seeing all your little hometown friends go back to mom-and-pop jobs while you climbed the corporate ladder, got engaged and sent really nice presents home as an apology for going to Aspen for Christmas instead of seeing your parents felt powerful and liberating. 

And then your dad died on Christmas. While you were out with friends at a resort. That had been the first blow, the first reason to start thinking that the holidays weren’t for being cheerful, or for celebrating or for… anything, really. 

With that mindset, you spent the next Christmas with your fiance tucked away in your apartment, just the two of you. It had been your anti-Christmas, doing everything that was the opposite. You watched horror movies and ate popsicles, you decorated your house for Halloween and Valentine's day, you did everything possible to forget that you weren’t home opening presents with your parents - no just your mom now - and it worked. 

Now, you’re sitting in your hometown diner across the table from the one person who has always been the exception to the rule, with Christmas music blaring over the speakers and every person wishing you a happy holiday that walks by the table. 

A pit opens up inside of your stomach as you stare at the bubbles rushing to the top of your cider. The same, nasty feeling that made you snap at Yoongi in the kitchen rises up instead of you, a hydra ready to grow more heads and become an untamable beast.

“Where did you wander off to?” Yoongi’s question startles you from your thoughts and you look up at him. “You were so caught up I thought you might make your cider explode like Professor X.”

You laugh, surprising yourself. “Did you just make an X-Men reference?”

“Yeah, I still like comics, okay?”

You hum. “I was thinking that…” You take a large swig of your cider to press the tightness in your throat back. “I was thinking that maybe I do have a chip on my shoulder. I just… the holidays honestly bring out the worst in me, and I think I was already sour about being home.”

Like your admission of guilt on the way over, you feel lighter admitting your thoughts to Yoongi. There’s a pause in the conversation as your server puts down a burger in front of him and your chicken sandwich in front of you. 

“I think,” Yoongi says slowly as he pops a fry in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. “That it’s really easy for the people here to write off anyone who dares to do a little bit better than what they grew up with. For people like Jin, he always knew he’d come back home. I think it’s equal parts jealousy and wanting respect.”

“I don’t mean to make anyone feel disrespected,” you murmur. “Honestly, my distaste for coming home is more to do with the time of year than anything.”

“How so?”

Between bites of your dinner, you tell Yoongi about how your holidays have been over the last few years. How you stopped going home for them because it felt suffocating to be in a house with parents who didn’t understand anything about your love for being somewhere far away. How you stopped going home because if you stayed away with your friends and coworkers, you didn’t have to see how much they missed you.

All this time, you’d been running from guilt. Especially after the passing of your father. Even the sound of holiday music and the pressure to make plans to visit and buy gifts for people you were now somewhat unfamiliar with was enough anxiety to make the thought of Christmas and all of its bullshit unbearable. 

Once your dad died, the thought of the holiday season was even worse. It meant going home and crying on Christmas because it was just you and your mom. It meant getting thinking of your pity text messages instead of well wishes and happy holidays. It meant forgetting a pair of scissors to open gifts because that was your dad’s job, and it meant that there was an inescapable void in your home. 

Yoongi settles against the booth, looking at you with sad eyes. But what’s more, there is empathy there. Understanding. You don’t feel pitied or judged by Yoongi and the relief that washes over you as you spill your guts out at your favorite dinner is overwhelming.

You get another round of cider and you tell him about your cheating ex. How you were kicked from the apartment that hadn’t been yours from the start. How it’s one more negative feeling associated with Christmas, and how it was forcing you to go back to a place you wanted to see least of all, during a time you hated. How you… didn’t even care so much that the relationship was over. That you were just angry about having to find somewhere else to live and a little embarrassed that everyone saw it coming but you.

Sipping his beer, Yoongi sighs. “I’m going to say something that I want you to consider, and not take personally.”

You push around a cold french fry on your plate. “No promises.”

His smile is fleeting. “The holidays didn’t steal these things from you.” 

The words hang heavy in the air between the two of you. 

Elsewhere, the music has turned down a bit. It’s getting later and the dinner rush has faded to a soft hum in the background. The bell on the door chimes less and there are more empty booths than there are full. Seokjin disappears to the back for a much-earned break. 

It’s a simple concept that Yoongi has given you and yet you want to fight him on it. 

The holidays didn’t steal these things from you. Well no, they hadn’t. But it seemed that your bad luck was recurring, cycling back at the same time every year. Doomed to make your dread stronger and stronger with each passing Christmas. 

“That might be true,” you admit. “But it’s not like I’m the only person who hates the holidays. I mean, at least I have a reason and it’s not some sort of anti-corporate America speel.” He opens his mouth but you cut him off. “Which, by the way, is a very valid point. Hallmark makes all of its money on being a Christmas vampire feeding off the people like me who have trouble going home for the holidays. Except I reject it.”

“There is another alternative.” 

“And what’s that?”

“Embrace that life fucking sucks but eventually we can figure it out. If we want to and if we have the means.”

“What if we don’t have the means?”

Yoongi gives you a severe look. “Does your insurance cover therapy?” You nod. “Good, you have the means. If healing from this anxiety and guilt is something you’re interested in. Come on, I want dessert.” 

-

Later that night, when you have had an overwhelming amount of fudge and talked to Yoongi about anything and everything that doesn’t involve Christmas or any of the horrible feelings you’ve spilled to him all day long, you lay in bed flicking through your phone on one hand while you hold a thin, plastic card in another.

Squinting as the phone brightness increases when a new webpage is loaded, you manage to find what you’re looking for, typing in your insurance information and answering a few questions before you hit send. 

Once done, you set the phone on the nightstand and settle in your bed, heart pounding as you stare up at the ceiling and wonder how fast you’ll hear back on a request for a therapy consultation. 

All the while, Yoongi’s words circle round and round in your mind: Embrace the fact that life fucking sucks, but eventually we can figure it out. 

You roll on your side and squeeze your eyes shut and dare to hope that maybe Yoongi is right.

-

A routine nestles its way into your life before you’re aware of it. You get up and go downstairs for breakfast.

Once in the dining room, you have breakfast with your mom, trying not to get queasy over the fact that your dad’s chair remains empty at the head of the table. Sometimes, Yoongi is there in the morning and has breakfast with the two of you. Those days are much easier to fill the silence.

After breakfast, you shower and pick through your belongings, trying to rearrange your old room and make it somewhat adaptable to the lifestyle you had at your apartment. Adjusting to the fact that your mom is up at six in the morning on the dot and is ready for lunch by eleven nearly drives you to the edge, but you manage.

Most days you find yourself wandering to the back of Min’s Hardware and asking if Yoongi needs help. He always seems surprised to see you back, no matter how many days in a row you find yourself there, chewing on the corner of your lip. 

The silence that comes with helping Yoongi has become an addiction. You notice that he no longer plays Christmas music in the shop when you’re around, opting for just general pop. You’re both thankful and a little embarrassed, but you say nothing as he gives you projects to sand or stain. 

When you’re both tired and your fingers are cramping and worse for wear, you break for lunch. Sometimes you go to your house where your mom has fixed you both a meal. Other times, you pop by the diner where Seokjin gives you lunch on the house.

Seokjin comes around, the more he sees you with Yoongi. You’re still a little extra nice around him, trying to prove that you don’t think you’re better than him. You just… don’t know how to be him. Don’t know how to settle into life like everyone else so easily has. 

It’s two weeks in that Yoongi upends your carefully crafted routine by leaning against your workstation - you don’t know when it became yours - and says, “What are you doing for Christmas Eve? I know your mom is volunteering and she said you weren’t but I don’t want to assume you’re… not doing anything.”

Today, Yoongi is in a green sweater and jeans, the sleeves of his shirt wrapped around his hands as he works. His hair is unstyled, showing just how long it’s gotten. It’s darker at the root where his natural color grows in, but even so, he looks beautiful as ever. Unsettlingly beautiful. The kind that makes you a little shy when he puts his full attention on you these days, especially when he shows you how to do something by gently touching your elbow or your wrist. 

“Ummm.” You race to think of a response, but the words are sticky in your brain with his proximity. Usually, he does his own things, but every time Yoongi comes close these days, your brain gets a little out of sorts. “I was going to do like my little anti-Christmas thing and watch Halloweentown, I guess.”

“Maybe one day I’ll join you on that. For now, I wanted to see if you wanted to um - join me.”

“Join you what?”

He presses his lips flat and raises his brow at the poorly articulated question. “For Christmas Eve. It isn’t very exciting or anything, but I usually have dinner at the home with my dad. They make a great honey ham and then Seokjin has a party at his house after everyone leaves their family dinners. Alcohol is encouraged.”

“Oh.” You blink once. Twice. “You want me to have dinner with you and your dad?”

Blossom-pink blush spreads over Yoongi’s cheek and nose. You chew your bottom lip as you watch him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he picks at stray splinters on the table. “I just thought maybe you didn’t want to be alone.”

Yoongi’s words from a few days ago echo in your mind when you asked when he started being such a fan of the holidays: when I started spending them alone. 

The thought of spending time with Yoongi with his dad, tucked into a corner of an elderly home with cheesy holiday decorations and staff that talks too gently, and putting on a show for those who feel alone and sad is dizzying. It terrifies you. It makes you want to run. 

Which is why you swallow past the stone in your throat and say, “Um. Sure. Yes. I would like to go with you.” 

He bites his bottom lip, trying to fight a smile. You clench all over, seizing up at how cute he is when he does that. “Really?”

“Yeah, Min. Really.”

“Wow, you haven’t called me Min in… a min.”

“God that was so cheesy.”

“Mhmm. We’re closed tomorrow because I’m helping out at the children’s home but I’ll pick you up at five Saturday. They serve dinner really early there.”

“Okay.” 

Yoongi grins, all gums and round cheeks and shining eyes and for a moment, you forget that you’re supposed to be heartbroken and sour and pitiful. His smile stops everything and you immediately want to say something clever to make him do it again.

Instead, you just nod awkwardly and say, “Okay.”

-

Piles and piles of clothes litter your floor as you yank on an oversized peacoat and rush to the bathroom to check your outfit. You’ve been through at least fifteen different combinations and messed up your neatly place hair, and you still are unsure what the fuck you’re supposed to wear to a Christmas Eve dinner at an elderly home with the Mins.

You are very out of your depth.

When your phone dings and you see that Yoongi has arrived to get you, you scream in frustration and decide that wide-leg jeans paired with black combat boots, a black turtleneck and an oversized coat will have to do. It’s something you would have worn back in the city, but you’re unsure if it’s a little too casual for this.

Outside, the wind snaps against your face, stinging your nose and lips. You fight the urge to lick your lips and remove the very faint, pink lip stain there as you rush to the truck where Yoongi waves enthusiastically. 

Yoongi’s gummy grin warms you more than the heated interior of the cab when you jump into the passenger seat, shuffling the crinkling gift back in your lap as you shiver and stick your hands in front of the air vents to warm them. 

“You look nice,” Yoongi says as a greeting, putting the truck in reverse and looking in his mirrors. “What’s the gift?”

“Um-” Embarrassment heats your cheeks immediately. “I uh, got your dad something? I felt sort of weird showing up without a gift. I don’t know. Is that stupid? I can leave it-”

Your name is soft on his lips as he pauses in the middle of the street to look at you. You stop your rambling, staring at him. His eyes are dark pools, glittering in the dying afternoon sun as he smiles at you. His hair is shaggy again today like he air-dried it and the tawny colored coat makes his hair even more vibrant. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Yoongi says gently, smiling. His lips look soft and pink today - well they always look like that, but you notice a little extra today. “That’s not stupid. It’s incredibly kind.”

“It’s - um - I know he used to really love reading all those mythology books and he was fond of the stuff with Odin and Thor? So I got him a Norse mythology one? It had a cool tree on it.”

For a few moments, Yoongi stares at you, unblinking. The truck is in drive, but he has his foot on the brake so it just sits in front of your house collecting little bits of snow. The weight of his gaze threatens to make you melt into the seat. You drop your gaze to the red and green package in your lap, trying to figure out how to explain that the idea was dumb.

“You are incredibly thoughtful.” Yoongi’s voice is so soft you’re almost sure you imagined him speaking at all. You glance up and he has a look you can’t unpack on his face, but it’s something like fondness, perhaps. “He will absolutely love that. I got him an Egyptian one.” 

“Are you sure?”

Yoongi takes a hand off the wheel and reaches over the center console to squeeze your hand where it’s gripped tight on the present. His fingers are calloused and rough from the years in the shop, but his touch is soft. Reverent. Your hand feels like it’s tingling even after he lets go and says, “I promise. Thank you. It’ll mean a lot to him, but it means even more to me.”

Still a little nervous and dizzy from the simple touch of his hand, you nod. 

Finally, Yoongi pulls into the road and starts driving, quiet as his eyes focus on navigating to the center of town. Music plays softly in the background and you glance out the slightly frosted window. 

Outside, families unpack themselves from cars, hurrying in bundles of jackets and loaded with presents to the doorsteps that are cast open for other family members and friends to help them in. Your heart squeezes at the thought and you look away from all of the houses and lights, instead focusing on the lines painted on the road. 

It feels like forever ago it was your family casting open your doors to house Christmas Eve with your extended family. But your uncle and his wife had long since moved away, and their kids had their own kids to celebrate with, and though the invitation was probably there for you and your mom to visit, it felt weird being with your dad's family when your dad was… not around. 

“Dad may or may not remember you,” Yoongi hums as he drives. “I think he will because he’s good about people from the past, but he might not get your name right. I don’t correct him because it can confuse and frustrate him, so just go with whatever if you can.”

“Of course. I’ll just follow your lead.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he drives with one hand on the wheel, one hand hanging off the center console where he leans on his elbow. “He has a little trouble with train of thought, just let him get it out. He hates when you try and finish sentences for him.”

You smile. “He’s always hated that. You were the most impatient son ever.” 

“Well, practice has made perfect. I’m a changed man.”

“Uh-huh.”

The home is covered in holiday decor as you expected. Cars line the lot of what would look like apartment buildings if the sign out front didn’t indicate that it was a senior living center. Honestly, they look better than most of the apartments you’ve had in the city, a single reminder that everything is so much more affordable when you step out of your self-made comfort zone.

Ice and snow crunch beneath your boots in the parking lot. The two of you hurry along, shivering and laughing in the cold. Yoongi surprises you when he pulls you in by the waist, pressing you to his side to walk in a quick, albeit warmer, huddle to the main building. 

Warmth hits you in the face and melts back the cold as you step inside, a shiver racking up your spine. There’s a massive Christmas tree in the lobby with a ‘donated’ sign in the front thanking a local company for the tree, and there are hand-crafted ornaments that from another sign, inform you they were made by the children in the orphanage on the other side of town.

Christmas music tinkles lightly overhead as Yoongi leads you to a counter where a woman with a Christmas vest and a bright smile greets him enthusiastically. It’s obvious that she’s familiar with him as she rattles off how his dad has been doing, scribbling his name on a tag with a candy cane heart and handing it over to him. 

Tag in hand, Yoongi awkwardly shuffles to the side to reveal you to the woman behind the desk, whose name tag says Esther. Her eyes go round and her mouth forms a small ‘o’ when she sees you, surprised that Yoongi has brought a guest. You hate to admit that you feel a little pleased if it’s not common for him to bring other people here. 

Ignoring that, you give her your name and she hesitates, glancing at Yoongi. He nods his head with a tiny frown before she scribbles your name onto the tag and hands it over to you, an unreadable expression now on her face. 

“Enjoy.”

Sticking the tag on your jacket, you glance at Yoongi as he leads the way toward the common room where they’re having dinner. “Well, I don’t think she likes me.”

He hums noncommittally and you say nothing more, following his twists and turns until you’re in a large common area nearly bursting at the seams with Feliz Navidad and tinsel. There are people of varying ages inside sitting around pop-up round tables and folding chairs. Red and green plastic table clothes cover the tables, little gift-wrapped boxes act as centerpieces. There’s another tree donated in the corner by Min’s, making you poke Yoongi’s side and gesture to the tree.

Shy, Yoongi shrugs and scurries away from you, spotting his dad sitting on a sectional looking up at the glittering tree. You hesitate to follow, a little lost as you watch Yoongi call his dad’s name gently, catching his attention. They look so much alike that it’s dizzying to watch as his dad stands up, bringing Yoongi into a tight hug.

You clench your jaw, willing the sudden burning in your eyes to go away. You feel your palms sweat and your throat constricts, making you look away from them as they hold each other by the shoulders, exchanging greetings that you can’t hear from the middle of the room.

All around you are people with their moms and dads. The room is crushed with holiday cheer, held hands, kisses on cheeks and tight hugs. You start to realize this was a terrible idea, excuses and ways to leave flipping through your mind like a Rolodex when Yoongi calls your name. 

Turning to face them, you feel like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide, mouth agape, frame tense. Yoongi gives you a nod as he leads his dad to you. Old Man Min walks well enough, and is a little shorter than Yoongi with peppered hair, kind eyes and a knitted scarf that looks like something perhaps your mom made. 

“You look just like your father!” His dad greets, throwing open his arms when he sees you. Your stomach drops to your ass at the declaration, but you force a smile, bending down a bit to hug him quickly. “I haven’t seen you since… I last saw you!”

That makes you laugh. “It’s nice to see you.”

“I’m just glad Yoongi finally brought you! I’ve been asking to see his girlfriend for two weeks!”

“Dad,” Yoongi admonishes giving you an apologetic look. “She’s… not.” 

Old Man Min waves him off as he heads towards the serving line where there is an array of holiday-themed catered food. “I’m starving. I’ve been waiting here all damned afternoon!”

“Sorry,” Yoongi whispers as he goes by you, upping his pace to keep up with his dad who has his sights set on food. “He does remember you very well, by the way.”

Ignoring hot coal burning in the pit of your stomach at the comparison to your father, you shuffle in line behind Yoongi. All of the workers behind the table serving recognize him immediately, brightening and greeting him with dazzling smiles and heart eyes. 

Next to him, you raise your brows and watch as he shyly interacts with them all, answering the same questions over and over and thanking them for putting on a wonderful dinner. They bask in the shower of his praise until he leans over to you and insists you get the mac and cheese. Yoongi doesn’t notice the shift, but you do, the staff immediately stiffens and goes quiet when they see you interact.

At a table tucked in the corner for just the three of you, you dig into your meal, answering all of Old Man Min’s questions he throws your way. They’re easy to answer: what do you do now, how is your mom, when did you come back. Some of the questions he repeats on accident or drifts off when asking, but you don’t mind, chewing around mac and cheese and waiting for him to get it out, or repeating your answer with the same vigor as before.

Yoongi seems nervous at first, neglecting his food to look back and forth between the two of you. You nudge him gently under the table and his dark eyes fall on you. You give him a face, trying to convey that you’re okay and he grins sheepishly, looking down at his meal and deciding it’s safe enough to start eating. 

“So how did my son finally start dating you?” his dad demands, sipping his sweet tea. “I thought he would finally ask you out in high school and then… uh college, but he never did!”

“Dad,” Yoongi starts gently, but you’re quick to cut him off, touching Yoongi’s arm gently as you smile at his dad. “Recently,” you explain. You glance at Yoongi with narrowed eyes. “Didn’t know he had a crush on me in high school, though.”

“Ha! Of course he did! Why do you think he always wanted you over at the shop? Sure were over there than uh… what’s that girl's name? Jan’s daughter.”

“Jessa,” Yoongi offers softly, not meeting anyone’s eye as he becomes interested in pushing honeyed ham around his plate. “Dad you’re embarrassing me.”

“Yeah, Jenna! She was never at the shop nearly as much as you. Nice girl, not you though.” He stabs a piece of ham and shakes his head. “Always knew you’d be the one. Your dad and I were always sure of it.” 

Yoongi tenses but you smile at Old Man Min. “Really?” 

“Mhmm. Your dad was a hell of a guy! I remember back when we were in high school…”

Yoongi’s dad launches into a tale of when he and your father were kids and you’re shocked to discover that the unsettling feeling in your stomach starts to fade. You listen, chin in your palm and elbow propped on the table as you sip on cider to the adventures of your dad in his youth. 

The wound stings a little but… it’s bearable. And it’s nice, to see Yoongi’s dad come alive and recall so many things from his own childhood. The color on Yoongi’s face and the way he keeps trying to hide his smile in the collar of his jacket says everything about how pleased he is to see his dad happy and healthy. 

Almost without thinking, you reach over under the table and take Yoongi’s hand, giving it a squeeze. He looks up at you, brows raised. You can’t help but smile, really glad that he brought you here. Somehow, it is exactly what you needed. 

Yoongi squeezes your hand back, making your heart pick up. As you start to pull away, he snatches your hand back, lacing your fingers and squeezing. You stare at him, surprised and flustered and feeling a little breathless as he settles in his chair, refusing to look at you as he holds your hand in his lap, engrossed in the tale his father is weaving. 

With a nervous exhale, you lean back in your chair, content with the warmth of his hand and whatever the hell sparks with his touch.

-

Seokjin is very drunk and very happy to see you when he throws open the front door to his incredibly nice home in the new, gated community just beyond your old high school. The two-story home is full of warmth, people from your high school and college, and a lot of booze. 

Immediately you’re uneasy, smiling awkwardly at the shocked faces of your old peers. Yoongi is heedless, though, keeping a hand on yours as he leads you through the party. You’re distracted by the firmness of his hold on you, the way it makes your head spin, the way that you don’t know what holding his hand means, but it’s nice. 

And then you’re in the kitchen, pressed close to his side as you field questions from old friends that aren’t as much friends as they are nosy people from your past. No one asks about your handholding, but the way they glance down to where Yoongi has your fingers laced with his is enough to know it’s all anyone is going to talk about in whispered circles and for the next two weeks. 

If Yoongi is bothered by this, he doesn’t show it. You however, are very in your head. The loose, happy feeling you had at dinner with his dad is replaced with stiff movements, quiet murmurs of hellos and asking how are you to people you don’t really care about, and cringing when a group of people pass by caroling room to room.

Yoongi senses the way you freeze up, the way you press yourself into the pantry as though you could melt into the wood and remain unseen. He tugs you toward a glass sliding door where there is a patio filled with smokers, all of them shivering and breathing smoke and steamed breath into the string lighting. 

Going past them, Yoongi tugs you down into the back of the yard and to a gate. People whistle behind you and Yoongi throws a middle finger over his head, uncaring. He throws the latch and squeezes through the gate, so you follow. 

Behind Seokjin’s house is a lake with a lit fountain, frozen and off for the winter season. He trudges toward it and sits down on damp grass, patting the spot next to him. Tentatively, you sit down and look over at him. 

“Sorry.” His breath fogs in the cold. “I didn’t think about how shitty that might feel for you before inviting you.”

“It’s okay. I just… don’t really know how to answer their questions.”

“What do you mean?”

You pull at frozen grass to distract yourself from having to look at him. “I mean, I just broke up with my fiance a few weeks ago because I caught them cheating and now I show up to a party where everyone thinks I’m a stuck up holding your hand.”

“Not everyone thinks that.” You give him a look and he amends, “Okay, a lot of people do but not everyone.” 

“Great.”

“If they saw you the way I do, they definitely wouldn’t think that.” You shoot him a questioning look as your heart beats a little bit faster. Your nerves start to tingle as you watch him figure out how to phrase what comes next. “You have no idea how nice it was to have you with me tonight. I’ve been doing that alone for years and I love spending time with my dad, but having someone else there to take the pressure off and to see him happy was… fuck it was really nice.”

The icy core around your heart that began to scrape itself together once you entered the party melts just a little bit. You chew on the inside of your cheek, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Yoongi continues. “I know you don’t like the holidays because it reminds you of being home and everything you want to get away from, and of the bad things that happened to you. I didn’t like them for… fuck, for years.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They sucked without my mom, but it wasn’t so bad because we’d come to spend time with you guys or go over to the Kims. My dad made it work, and even though it felt like a fucking gut punch those first few years after my mom died, I sort of adjusted.”

“And then?”

He sighs heavily, looking up at the moon. “And then dad’s old age happened. The man you got tonight was… man, it was good. He was great tonight, happy and present and vibrant. It’s not always like that though - it’s usually not. There are a lot of times when he might forget my mom is gone or might forget that he sold the shop to me and thinks he has to go to work and… it was really hard at first. Trying to make that adjustment.”

“You’re so patient, though.”

“I wasn’t always. Around the holidays I was trying to run the shop and visit him so he wouldn’t feel alone and deal with my own grief about how fucking alone everything felt. There wasn’t anyone to relate to and I was just…” Yoongi shrugs and runs a hand over his brow. “Honestly, I wasn’t very nice for a bit. It was really frustrating to learn new ways to talk to him and I just… hated everyone.”

Fuck you know how it feels. You look at Yoongi as he stares out at the frozen lake. You would never guess that Yoongi, who makes so many different things in his spare time for the holidays could be mean. Yoongi, who eats something different every time you go to Jin’s diner. Yoongi, who chased a stray cat around your backyard until he could bring it in and warm it up inside before taking it over to the shelter. Yoongi who has been unwaveringly kind, and invited you to Christmas Eve dinner so you wouldn’t be alone. 

When you were teens, you could have bought that story. He had always been a little standoffish and hard around the edges. You were always in his inner circle, a rare witness to the way that he could melt for the people that he cared about. But the Yoongi of now does not seem like someone who hates the world like Yoongi of then had the potential to - and did.

It doesn’t make sense, this Yoongi that he talks about in the past and the Yoongi that you see in front of you. The Yoongi in front of you is gentle, kind, and soft with those around him. He never raises his voice, he is gentle with customers, and he often pulls more weight than he should at his own store to take the pressure off his employees.

“What changed, then?” you ask, desperately seeking an answer. In him, you see what you want to be. The calmness, the confidence in who he is and what he’s doing. He’s not drowning in his grief, or trying to reconcile a cacophony of feelings. At least, it doesn’t seem like it. 

“Therapy, for starters,” he laughs and gives you a look as he lays back in the grass. You join him, feeling the cold sink into your coat, but you don’t care. You like laying here with him under a blanket of frozen stars with the muted sounds of the party just beyond the wooden gate.

He continues, “But also a lot of introspection and a lot of self-hate. This version you have of me now? It’s gone through a lot of pain and suffering and reconciling with myself. It’s not an easy process, but it is worth it. And it started with me not blaming Christmas for things  that were just… beyond my control.”

“Fuck, so I have to apologize to Santa? I’m not even religious.”

Yoongi’s breath turns to fog as he laughs. You watch the way his eyes crinkle, shining with mirth under the gray light of the moon. He glows under the night sky – cheeks frozen-blush, lips chapped a little from the winter wind, nose cherry read. Droplets of dew cling to his long hair, a crown of diamonds on a prince spun from moonbeams.

At least, that’s what it feels like as you watch his laughter settle. Yoongi smiles up at the sky and that tight feeling constricts in your chest again. This version of him is so much softer than the teenager you remember. Warm at the edges, melted with a lifetime of experiences that have thawed that hard exterior.

Something like envy slithers through you. Envy that Yoongi has long healed from his hurts. That he seems to have settled here he is now, in happiness and knowing his path. He doesn’t have everything but he has enough, and as he turns to look at you, dark eyes sparkling, you can’t help but avert your gaze.

You don’t want him to see the inside of you.

“It’s more about Christmas as a concept,” Yoongi sighs, looking back up at the sky. Marshmallow clouds drift across a midnight canvas. You can only make out the brightest of stars here, the light pollution dimming the effect. “I’m not religious either, but the effect that the holidays can have on people is touching. Heartwarming. People love others a little extra.”

“Yeah, well they should do that year-round.”

“Small steps, small steps. Maybe it’s an open conversation at a dinner, or maybe it’s someone seeing family they haven't seen in a while. There are so many opportunities for love and warmth and chances to open your heart.”

“You sound like a Hallmark commercial.”

“Make fun of me all you want,” he chuckles. “I know it sounds idealistic and a little bit naïve. But I’ve experienced too much sadness to keep thinking that’s all there is, and I’ve seen people’s lives change around the holidays. It’s special.”

You hum. “Why wait until the end of the year for all of that so-called happiness, then?”

“Life is hard - like really fucking hard. Sometimes when the end of the year is staring you right in the face, or when you're realizing it may be your last Christmas with an aging loved one is the push people need to brave that first step to being happy.”

“You’re celebrating procrastination.”

Yoongi sighs. He rolls over on his side and props his head up with his hand. You feel a flush of warmth curl through you under the weight of his full attention. Suddenly the cold hard ground you’ve opted to lay on doesn’t feel so bad.

“I’m celebrating people being moved to do something.” His tone is gentle. You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He seems thoughtful, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “I’m celebrating that sometimes the holidays are the worst time for people. But something small will happen to make them feel even a moment of happiness. Just one small second of relief from the fucking madness.”

You think about everything that’s happened in the last few weeks. A tightness constricts your throat and you try to swallow past it. It takes you a few moments, but you imagine what it would be like to have just a fucking second to catch your breath. To have a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness.

“I just…” Yoongi’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I want people to be happy. And it feels like maybe this time of year has more potential than most. So that’s what I celebrate. Not the gift and the capitalism and the hypocrisy of it all. But the little seconds in between.”

A long, slow breath of air leaves you. You watch it steam and curl toward the sky before fading. “Well, Yoongi. I wish I was nearly as optimistic.”

“Maybe you can be.” You glance at him and see him smiling. “Just give me a chance to persuade you, yeah? My work seems to be paying off so far.”

“It is. I have an appointment to talk to a therapist in three weeks. It’s just an introductory thing, but…”

“That’s great, honestly. I don’t want to say I’m proud of you because that’s pretentious and you’re not doing this for me, but I really hope it helps.” Silence settles between you. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you are cold, despite the warmth that blooms when he studies your face. “Wanna go inside and drink a fuck ton of wine and then Irish exit?”

“Fuck yeah,” you laugh, letting him help you to your feet. 

Back inside of the party, you do just that. Yoongi plies you with sweet, red wine until there’s a cotton-soft buzz in your body. You’re a little bit nicer to people who still whisper when you walk by, and you even let Seokjin drag you into a single karaoke performance of Baby It’s Cold Outside. 

It’s already embarrassing to show how horrible you are at singing, but to make matters worse, you cannot stop glancing over at Yoongi who leans against the wall of the living room, a plastic wine up in his hand, dark eyes focused only on you. 

Heat pools in your lower stomach at his gaze, watching it darken by the minute. You do not miss when Jessa - who Old Man Min has dubbed Jenna - approaches Yoongi tentatively. And yet he is dismissive, the overly-warm and kind exterior replaced with something sharper. Hungrier. 

And his focus is entirely on you.

When you finish the song and wander over to him, breathless, he keeps his eyes pinned on you. Fathomless pools that draw you in until you feel like you’re falling falling falling, weightless and breathless. No one has ever looked at you like that. Not even your fiance. 

“What?” you ask, voice shaking as you lean against the wall, face tilted up toward him. You feel warm and wine-slow all over, limbs heavy and comfortable. Your lashes flutter when you slow blink at him. His lips are stained red from wine. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“What way?”

Embolden by sweet wine, your talk on the lawn and your innocent hand holding, you huff. “In a way that makes me want to be stupid and kiss you.”

“That would make you stupid?”

You drop your gaze and press the rim of your plastic cup to your lips. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I kind of want to do it, but I don’t… know?”

His voice is lower and deeper, soft against your sense as he leans in a little. “So you want to kiss me?” You nod. “But you don’t know if you want to kiss me?”

“I don’t want you to think it’s… I haven’t been single for long. I don’t want you to think that of me. It isn’t because of that. I’ve wanted to for like years and - yeah.”

“I already told you. I think a lot of things of you. That isn’t one.” His gaze flickers around the party. You don’t realize how close he is until he turns back to you, warm breath fanning against your head. “How about we do our exit now and talk about that kiss where there’s not so many eyes, hmm?”

Mutely, you nod at him. Now you definitely want to kiss Yoongi. He’s gone from the soft, gummy-grin man full of holiday cheer to a darker, calm version of himself that is new. Confident. And quite frankly toe-curling. 

Yoongi wraps his fingers around yours and leads you to the exit, saying nothing to anyone that you pass by. Then you’re out in the cold and he’s unlocking the truck, popping open your door and pulling you toward it.

“Are you okay to drive?”

“Very,” he promises, voice raspy. “I only live across the stoplight, remember?” 

“Ohhh.” You get into the passenger seat, leaning your head on it and looking at Yoongi, who is momentarily propped against your door. “You’re taking me home?”

He leans forward, eyes dropping to your mouth as he mutters, “Uh-huh.”

And then he’s kissing you and the entire world fades into the background.

Yoongi’s lips are just as soft as you imagined. You sink into the kiss, leaning forward into the heavenly press of his mouth. Everything shifts, the dizziness of the wine mulling into dizziness of Yoongi - the way he smells like cedar and rose, the way he presses your mouth open with his, the way he tastes like sweet notes of wine. 

The soft brush of his tongue against yours makes your thighs squeeze together. He’s slow as he kisses you, taking his time to suck your tongue into his mouth, rolling his over yours languidly and fuck you’re going to die from just a kiss. 

Yoongi pulls back and you whine, hands going to the collar of his jacket and pulling him back, missing the warmth of his mouth, the gentle pull of your lip between his teeth. “More,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his.

His chuckle buzzes through your mouth, a gentle tingle as you pull at his bottom lip with your teeth playfully. He groans as he kisses you, a little sloppier, with a little more tangled tongues and spit. The wet smack of his mouth against yours is interrupted when someone’s dog starts barking in one of the yards, startling you. 

“Fuck,” he laughs, voice husky. “In your seat, come on. Let’s go.”

“Meh.”

He grins and pushes your leg back into the cab of the truck. “Greedy.”

Yoongi shuts the door and rounds the hood. Your eyes are glued to him as he gets in, your heart pounding in your chest as he starts the car. It occurs to you that you just kissed Yoongi. Min Yoongi, the one person you’ve been spending time with since you got back. The one person who you thought about late at night when your fiance was asleep and you were chasing thoughts of your past. 

The one person who seemed to be willing to look a little deeper. To see that the poison inside of you wasn’t because you didn’t like anyone, or because you thought that you were better. It was because you were afraid and sad and didn’t know how to deal with anything. 

Wordlessly, he reaches over the center console, placing his hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. You shut your legs, stomach clenching at the feeling of his fingers brushing gently over your jeans. When you look at him, there’s a sideways smirk on his face and you know he knows that your stomach is flipping over the simple touch. 

It feels like the drive lasts a thousand years. You’re squirming in the seat as Yoongi’s thumb brushes back and forth, giving you a squeeze now and again accompanied by a grin. You can’t help but smile back, heart in your fucking throat as you see all of the familiar houses pass you by. 

The Min home is exactly like you remember it but with less cars. Yoongi parks in the drive, popping open the garage with the press of a button to reveal a workshop of tools, shelves for storage and a flickering overhead light that has been faulty since you were in middle school. 

Outside, Yoongi reaches for your hand, pulling you close as you pass under the garage and toward the door that opens up into a white-tiled kitchen. The hum of the closing door follows you in as he flicks on a light, revealing a large kitchen with oak cabinets and a counter full of mail, a catch all, and various containers of sugar, and coffee and other items. 

Yoongi chucks his keys and shuffles out of his jacket, tossing it on the counter and turning to you. He gives you a cunning smile and beckons you. There’s no denying his summons, your feet pulling you toward him automatically as he catches you by the waist, pulling you into his chest as he brushes his mouth against yours again. 

Somehow, it feels normal to be doing this. To press your palms against his chest as he lounges lazily against his kitchen counter, one hand on your waist and one hand on the side of your neck as he tilts your mouth to his, kissing you hungrily. Like he’s waited an entire lifetime to do this. 

The thought makes you pull away suddenly. You look up at him, his face flush and lips kiss-bitten and spit-slicked. His eyes flutter open, looking down at you half-lidded and dazed. “Hmm?”

“Did you really have a crush on me?” 

He snorts and rolls his eyes, tilting his head backward until it hits a cabinet. The hand on your neck is firm, a steady weight that sends your thoughts wild when his thumb brushes back and forth across the skin of your over-warmed throat. 

“Of course I did. You paint so much of my life, you have no idea.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Cause I was terrified. I wasn’t very honest with myself back then, there was no way I could be honest with you. Then after college you got that nice ass job and I realized I was coming back home and I couldn’t go with you.”

“Even in college?”

“Yeah,” he whispers to the ceiling. “Even in college. I had this big idea to maybe tell you when we graduated. I was going to work at that new startup I told you about - it was only thirty minutes away from you. And then that didn’t happen and…” He shrugs. “I realized we weren’t on the same path. It seemed pointless.”

You stare at him for a few moments, thoughts flicking through your mind at a blinding pace. Yoongi had liked you in high school. In college. Had put off telling you because he didn’t think you’d be interested enough to stay, or to figure it out or to-

“I’d have dated you anyway,” you murmur. Carefully, you move a strand of blonde hair from his eyes when he looks down at you in surprise. “Yeah,” you laugh when you see his face. “Yoongi, I was totally head over heels for you in high school and in college. And then you dated Jessa and I just figured it would be embarrassing to tell you later so I just didn’t say anything.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Those first few months when you never texted me that you had settled in at your new job I figured you had new friends or just didn’t have time for me. I didn’t even…” You sigh. “I didn’t realize you didn’t move there. I was too nervous to look at your social media.”

“I barely update it anyways.”

“I know. It’s all your cat.” That piques your interest and you pull away from him, looking around. “Where is your kitty? I want to see.”

“I love that you are excited about my cat, but I would like to request that we look for him later. I have other things I wanna do.”

“Oh?”

Yoongi’s gaze is dark when you look back at him. Your fingers tighten in his shirt, going still under the razor-sharp look he gives you. “Yeah,” he confirms. “I want to show you how fucking bad I wanted you - do want you. And I don’t want you to think I’m just saying all this, or that I’m using a moment of weakness. Since you walked into the kitchen that night, I have not been able to stop thinking about every second of my life that I liked you. That I wanted to kiss you. That I wanted to fuck you until all you could think about was the way I felt.”

“Yoongi.”

“Hmm?”

“I would like that very much.”

Yoongi’s smile is dazzling, completely at ends with how he just said he wants to fuck you but you don’t care.

Especially when he gives you a chaste kiss to the mouth. Once. Twice. And leads you through the home that you already know. His bedroom is on the opposite side of where his parents slept, and when he opens the door to reveal a room lit by a single salt lamp, you almost expect it to be covered in drawings of buildings and filled with canvas prints of famous buildings around the world and sheets designed like graph paper.

Instead, you’re surprised to see an elevated room with newly painted, limewash walls, a heavy desk tucked into the corner with leather portfolios and neatly stacked papers, dark linen sheets folded neatly on the bed with several pillows - including decorative - against a beautiful headboard with a keen design you know is his.

The room looks lived in and elegant, and it smells like the sage and jasmine reed diffuser in the corner. 

“You’re fucking hot,” you blurt, startling yourself and Yoongi. “Like your room is - adult. And you made that desk and headboard right? Fucking-” You look up at him and shake your head. “It’s really hot that you do all of these things.”

“Wow. Just the room does it for you, huh?”

You shove him playfully and he falls back on his bed, sitting with a soft bounce. He opens his legs and leans back on his palms, eyes drifting up and down your frame. He smirks, cool confidence making your hands shake as you take a step forward, suddenly feeling far more nervous than you ever have around him.

“Come here,” he purrs, lifting a hand and patting his thigh.

In a trance, you compy. Carefully you crawl into his lap, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his waist as you settle your ass between his legs. His hands wrap behind you, pressed into the small of your back as he leans forward, catching your mouth with his. He pulls your coat from your shoulders, dropping it to the floor as you settle your hand around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair.

Kissing Yoongi makes the world stop. Here, in his bedroom, in his lap, nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter that you’re living in your mom’s house again. It doesn’t matter that you have to figure out what to do about a new place to live. It doesn’t matter that a teeny-tiny part of you was relieved to find your fiance cheating. It doesn’t matter that you were more mad about being kicked out of the apartment than anything else.

All that matters is that something slides into place when Yoongi leans back, letting you fall onto his chest. You giggle into his mouth, letting the slide of your tongues and lips lull you into a sense of longing that you’ve harbored for years without realizing it. 

You’re drowning in Yoongi. Your lungs are full of him, sending you gasping into his mouth when he rolls your hips against his, the friction sparking a fire in you. You’re completely lost in him, drifting further and further his mouth places hot, wet kisses on your jaw and neck.

It never occurred to you that you could want someone - Yoongi - this badly. You tremble on top of him as his fingers pull your shirt from the waistband of your jeans, fingers seeking the warmth of your skin. 

Breathing becomes difficult, your lips ghosting across the tender skin of his neck, nipping lightly as his calloused fingers brush across your hips, digging in as he rocks you against him. You can’t help but shiver at the feeling of arousal in your stomach, fingers quaking as he lets out a soft moan next to your ear. 

Gently, Yoongi rolls the two of you over, slotting himself between your legs and pressing his clothed hard-on where you want him most. You look up at him as he pushes his hair out of his eyes, skin flushed and full of warmth and want. He is beautiful.

Something in you blooms, hungry and feral. You grab his hands and pull them to your chest, squeezing his palms under yours. He grins, getting the hint as he gives your tits a gentle squeeze, working a light moan from you. 

“You always had great tits,” Yoongi admits, thumbs circling the gentle hint of nipples through your shirt and bralette. You squirm under his touch and his grin grows wider. “Yeah? Sensitive, hmm?”

“Yes.”

With a pleased hum, Yoongi removes your shirt. It’s cold in his room, but he’s quick to bend down, his hands rubbing up and down your sides, chasing away the goosebumps as he looks up at you, mouth hovering over a peaked nipple. 

Slowly, Yoongi flicks his tongue over your nipple. The sensation makes you kick against the mattress, the stimulation something but not nearly enough. You want more, your hands shooting to his forearms and digging your nails in. 

Yoongi huffs, warm air gusting over your skin as he gives you what you want, lowering his mouth and wrapping it around your nipple, soaking the fabric of your bralette. Your eyelids flutter shut, one of his hands holding himself up and the other ghosting along your ribs back and forth, making you shiver repeatedly. 

Pulling away, Yoongi plucks your nipple playfully with his teeth, making you squeal from a pinch of pain but a flood of pleasure. You feel lightheaded, teetering on the border between present and somewhere far away and he’s barely even touched you. 

“You okay?” Yoongi asks. You realize his lips are ghosting against your chin. “You look a little dazed. We can stop.”

“No.” You shake your head, trying to dispel the fog and blinking down at him. “No it’s - it feels good. It’s hard to think when you touch me I just-” The words are stuck in your mouth and you squeeze your eyes shut.

He kisses your nose gently. “You just what?”

“I’m just really into it and it makes me feel all floaty and out of it but present. I don’t know. It’s overwhelming but good.”

“Do you want to keep going?” You nod. “Okay. You can stop at any time, okay? You ever used safe words?”

“No.”

He kisses you sweetly on the forehead, mouth drifting south until he’s nosing you lightly. His next words come out mumbled against your mouth, the hum sending a soft buzz through your lips. “Tell me a word we can use if you need to stop. No matter what we’re doing, the moment you feel uncomfortable, you use the word.”

“Christmas?”

He snickers and presses his forehead against you. “Fine, Christmas is fine.” He pecks your lips. “Okay.” He pulls your hand from your face, giving you a gentle, innocent kiss to the lips. It helps settle you a little. “Tell me what you like.”

“Umm.” Yoongi places butterfly kisses along your jaw, teeth nipping you lightly. You curse and feel your eyes roll back in your head as he sucks at your skin greedily, one of his hands coming up to brush a thumb back and forth over a nipple. “I don’t know.”

“No?” He pinches your right nipple and you moan loudly, earning a smile against your kiss-slicked neck. “You must like something. Do you like it slow? Rough? Messy? Do you like being choked? Hands above your head? Or in control?”

You shake your head. “Want me in control?” You nod. “Got it.” His hand drifts up to your neck and gives the sides a gentle squeeze. A thrill shoots through you and you lean up into him, nodding. “Yeah? Like having my hand around your throat?”

“Yes. I like…” Your words trail off for a moment as you think through the haze of Yoongi’s rasping voice and mouth. “Umm hard but sort of slow?” 

“Mhmm.”

“And messy. Messy is good.” 

Yoongi gives a satisfied hum. His hand leaves your nipple, brushing down your heated skin toward the apex of your thighs. He presses his fingers firmly over your clothed pussy, not nearly enough friction with underwear and jeans in the way. “And what about being eaten out? Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

You feel his smile against your throat. “Thank fuck. I’ve been dying to taste this fucking pussy.”

Suddenly you’re glad you have a safe word. Yoongi’s words send a fresh wave of arousal straight to your core, a moan leaving your lips as he worships your skin with his mouth. It feels like you could fall headfirst into him and never stop falling. The tension in your stomach is so tight you nearly snap when he unbuttons your jeans, everything he does is so overwhelming that there is almost an urge to cry. 

It’s hard to piece together why you feel like this. Why there is an inferno screaming inside of you, begging to be let out. Why the press of Yoongi’s fingers over your damp panties nearly sends you into a blackout, why when he circles your clit through the fabric you let out a strangled noise.

But you think… maybe you know what it is. 

Instead of thinking too hard about it, you focus on the way you’re short of breath. The way that your entire body is vibrating with energy. You look down to where Yoongi is on his knees between your legs, dark eyes looking up at you intently. His hands skate up and down the soft flesh of your inner thighs, squeezing periodically. 

Way back when, you were always nervous letting people between your legs, letting them see the most intimate parts of you up close. It was anxiety-filled and you were constantly nervous about being wrong - or just. Anything. 

But when Yoongi drops his gaze down to where your underwear sticks to your folds and lets out an appreciative curse, there’s no anxiety at all. Just a desire for Yoongi to make you his. For you to dig your fingers into him and make him yours.

Flashing you a wicked grin, he leans forward and gives a slow, wet lick over your panties. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, back arching and thighs twitching shut a little. The stimulation is more, but not enough. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Hmm, no? Want my mouth on this perfect pussy?”

“Please.”

He tucks his fingers under your underwear and pulls them down slowly, pressing a kiss to your knee absently. “You’re so much more pliant than I expected. Just want to be taken care of?”

Something inside you squeezes sharply and you shut your eyes, nodding. Realizing he can’t see you nodding, you whisper, “Yes.”

Firmly but slowly, Yoongi presses his palms into your thighs, spreading you wide. The stretch pulls your muscles but it’s a pleasant burn that is immediately forgotten when you feel his hot breath skate over your aching hole. 

You have never wanted someone’s goddamn mouth this bad. Yoongi laughs and you realize that you’re squirming, wiggling your hips a little toward his mouth. You immediately stop, hands covering your face as you groan, realizing that you are pliant for him. 

Embarrassment morphs into surprise and white hot pleasure when Yoongi licks you slowly from dripping hole to clit. Your breath gets stuck in your chest at the sensation, his tongue languidly rolling around your clit before he slow-drags it back down, dipping into your hole teasingly. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasp as he repeats the motion, the flat of his tongue dragging upward. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

He hums contentedly, flicking his tongue back and forth over your clit playfully. Your thighs tighten and shake, and you’re only able to let out the breath you’ve been holding when he pulls away and gives a soft chuckle.

“Fuck,” he grumbles, shuffling and sliding his hands under your ass. His fingers grip you firmly and he pulls you to his mouth, using the grip on your ass to anchor you to him. “Can you look at me, baby?” 

The new endearment makes your fingers clench in the sheets. It’s dizzying when you shift to your elbows, barely able to prop yourself up. The room tilts as he grins between your legs, lips glossed with your arousal. 

“Want you to watch,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. It leaves a sticky mouth print. “Such a sweet little cunt.”

Yoongi’s words have no time to land. He leans forward and you watch with acute fascination as he sucks your clit gently between his lips. Your nerves turn to molten lava and though he wants you to watch, your head falls back and you feel your eyes roll, a whimper escaping your mouth as he suckles greedily. 

Everything Yoongi does has always been art. He eats you out no different, alternately between eagerly tonguing every inch of you and sucking gently on your clit. You somehow manage to lift your heavy head, swimming with no thoughts but Yoongi Yoongi Yoongi to watch as he closes his eyes, humming delightedly as his greedy tongue slips into your clenching hole.

“Holy fuck,” you squeak. Your legs threaten to close as the knot in your stomach tightens. You know you’re going to come soon, knees squeezing his shoulders as he hums and sucks and licks, not letting a drop go to waste. “I’m gonnnaaa-” 

You can’t finish the sentence. He knows you’re going to come, his tongue firmer, his mouth hungrier. His mouth is loud and wet against you, which might gross you out if you weren’t babbling, twisting your hips under him as the pressure in your stomach shot upward. You’re panting and nearly delirious when one hand slides from your ass to your hole, his thumb applying just enough pressure to relieve a bit of the ache. 

“Fuck,” you squeak.

You come hard, eyes squeezed shut, Yoongi sucking your clit harshly and humming, the hum of his mouth sending you over and his thumb dipping into your hole to apply pressure. Under the force of your orgasm, you collapse to the bed, full-body twitching as his gluttonous mouth sucks at you, not letting up.

A numb-like tingle settles into your veins. You feel drunk, and not from the wine. Something headier that makes your thoughts white noise and your limbs heavy-soft. Yoongi gives your clit a kiss before squeezing your ass playfully, kissing his way up your stomach to your chest. 

“How are you doing?” he asks gently. 

“I think I just saw god,” you croak, voice hoarse from overuse. “Fuck. Fuck.”

He hums and licks into your mouth. You taste yourself on him, sticky-sweet and heady. He moans, dropping his hips to press against your slick thighs and still-dripping cunt. “Let me,” you mumble against his mouth, hand dropping between you and squeezing him over his jeans. Fuck. Your eyes flutter open, your hand feeling the full size of Yoongi’s cock. “Oh my god, do you have a big dick?”

Yoongi bursts into laughter, groaning and burying his head in your neck. He busies his mouth with placing sloppy kisses, more tongue than anything, against your pulse point. “I mean, yeah.” 

“I mean, yeah,” you mimic in a high-pitched voice. He laughs and you squirm. Even his laugh is hot. “Well show me. I wanna suck you off.”

“Can I be honest?”

“You just made me come from tongue alone, so yeah.”

“If your mouth comes near my dick I might come. I was close to busting in my fucking jeans like a teenager just now. I’d love for you to suck me off another time, but I am living my dream right now and I might bust a nut immediately.” 

You look at him owlishly. “Living your dream, huh?”

“Shut up,” he growls playfully. “Roll over on your stomach for me and put that perfect ass into the air, hmm?” 

With sluggish limbs and your head spinning, you do what he asks. He snaps the back of your bralette and you let it fall down your arms before tossing it aside. Leaning on your elbows, you put your ass in the air, wiggling it for effect. He huffs out a laugh behind you and you turn your head to watch him pull his shirt off.

Underneath his clothes, Yoongi is flushed pink and smooth. You watch, dazed and appreciative as he undoes his jeans swiftly. There is something alluring about watching the way his hands work his pants off. His strong thighs flex when he straightens, tucking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his briefs to slide them down and -

“Holy fuck,” you blurt. Yoongi looks up at you, blonde hair sticking to his forehead and cock bobbing heavily against his stomach. He does have a big dick - thick and long with a flushed tip leaking precum that makes your mouth water. “You’re joking.”

For a moment, the confident Yoongi from a second ago wavers, face red as he shyly gets on the bed. “If we have to stop we can-”

“Please fuck me,” you beg. You don’t even hesitate, shuffling your knees so that your ass is higher. “I don’t care if it hurts. Please.” 

His hands are on your ass, making your heart hammer in your chest. You think it might give out as Yoongi shuffles behind you, his thighs brushing against the back of yours. You feel the sticky crown of his cock against an asscheek, making you press backward to apply pressure. A sharp smack lands on your ass, earning both a cry and a moan from you. 

“Don’t fucking start,” Yoongi growls. Both of his hands grip your ass as he slides his shaft between your sticky folds. Your forehead rests on sweaty sheets as you pant, feeling how hard and long he is. “Gonna fuck you open with my fingers a little.”

“Yoongi.” 

“You said you wanted me to fuck you, baby. So let me.”

Yoongi’s hands drift from the apples of your ass to your fluttering hole. There’s a pit in your stomach, butterflies going wild as his fingers brush around your ring of muscles, hole twitching. His cock is pressed against your ass as he slides a finger in, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as he presses against your front wall, the smooth glide of his fingers addicting. 

“More,” you whisper. “Please.”

He hums in agreement, sliding in another finger. It’s a stretch, but it’s good. Pleasure whites out everything else. There’s just the tight glide of his fingers, pressing against that soft spot in you. Everything he does, your stomach lurches, the pleasure turning you boneless as you continue to melt into the mattress, letting Yoongi slow-fuck you with his fingers until he decides you can take him. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers, a line of arousal sticking to your ass as he uses both hands to spread you open. He moans, shuffling so that his cockhead catches your entrance, holding the blunt tip there for a second, letting your hole clench and unclench at the pressure. 

“Holy fuck, please.”

“What was that?”

“Min Yoongi, plea-”

Your words turn into an embarrassing sound as he sinks deep into your pussy, so wet that he slides almost to the hilt. The wind gets knocked out of you and for a second, you lay there in white light, unable to think about anything but the painful stretch of his cock reaching deep deep. 

There’s nothing else but the feel of him, hips pressed to your ass, hands rubbing up and down your back, letting your walls flutter around him as you adjust to the girth. And you do have to adjust, remembering to breathe through it. When the slight sting fades, you swivel your hips, making both of you sigh. 

Taking the hint, Yoongi pulls out, using his hands on your ass to control both of your movements before he sinks back in, finding a smooth, steady rhythm that has stars exploding behind your eyelids. You’re gone in seconds, thoughts replaced by the livewire feeling in your stomach and the way Yoongi fucks you hard and deep, though his movements are slow. 

Yoongi makes sounds behind you that make you fall apart that much faster. His hands are reverent and careful as he pulls you onto his cock, fucking you like you asked. Slow. With purpose. Every thrust is weighted, Yoongi putting his entire frame into each stroke as he fucks you into the mattress, punctuated by his stilted breaths. 

“Fuck,” he swears. “You have no fucking idea the way I dreamed about this. Fucking-” he breaks off with a growl, fingers gripping you with bone-shattering strength. “Wanted to do everything with you. For years.” 

Something inside of you snaps and you let out a muffled cry, realizing that you're near tears. Because yeah. You know what he means. You knew it when you saw him standing in the kitchen making a home with your mom. You knew it when you saw him carving rocking chairs and brushing sawdust out of your hair. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp as he adjusts the angle, hitting your spot on the upstroke. It nearly sends you into space. “But me too.”

He smacks your ass, the sting almost sending you headfirst into your orgasm. “Yeah? Thought of me even when you weren’t here, hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Thought of me even when you were lying awake at night in a city without me?”

“Yes.”

He slaps your ass again and you feel your orgasm, so tight and intense that you think you might die if the pressure doesn’t pop. “Come on,” he grunts, a hand sliding around your waist and reading down to press tight circles on your clit. Your vision goes white. “Come for me, then. Fucking show me.”

It’s all you need. You come around Yoongi, squeezing him so tight and screaming viciously into his sheets. He grabs you tight and curses loudly behind you, immediately coming deep in your cunt, shivering against you as he pants through it. You’re barely aware that his weight is on top of you, your entire being somewhere else far away.

For a while, there is just gasping breaths and tangled limbs. You’re unsure how to string together words, your mind and bones melted. Your body twitching with post-orgasm tremors. 

Strings of thoughts begin to pull together. The twine to make coherent ideas. Memories. Things. You feel the weight of Yoongi, who is only half on top of you as he tries to catch his breath. Tries to piece himself together, both of you collapsed and tangled in something beyond just bodies. 

Whatever it is that just happened is more than just fucking and you know it. Know that Yoongi knows it. You’ve been dancing around an inevitable thought for weeks, while watching him hunched over his workstation, painting stain on a cabinet with his sweater sleeves pulled over his hand. Watching him shuffle boxes of dreidels that he hand-carved for the synagogue down the street. 

The dread of coming home during the holidays was always about the association to your family. To your dad being gone. To the guilt gnawing at you for leaving your mom. But now, as he pulls the rest of himself off of you and rolls onto his back, hands grabbing you and pulling you to his sweaty side, you think that maybe being afraid of home was a little bit about him too. About the memory of him. About the little inkling of a crush that you never got over. 

“Your mom is gonna give us so much shit in the morning,” he mumbles, words a little slurred. You curl into his side, tucking your face in his neck. He smells a little like cedar, a little like sex and sweat. “She might never let me in the house again.”

“Untrue. She loves you.”

“Hmm. It’s a start.”  He sighs, words drifting off. “And no safe word needed. I could barely choke you out if I wanted. I thought I was gonna come as soon as I put it in. Holy fuck.”

“Fuck Christmas,” you laugh. “I want you to do that again. However you want to.” He snorts. “Also, I want to suck your dick in the morning. I didn’t get you a gift.” 

“Fine,” he mumbles. “Sleep, yeah?”

You hum. “Yeah.” 

[kingofbodyrolls]

Friendcation (m) | myg | three

When you and Yoongi visit his family in Daegu, and he introduces you as his friend, it rubs you all kind of wrong. But what are you even to each other, other than best friends with benefits?

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin. → Genre/AU: best friends to friends with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 → Status: completed! → Word Count: 11,9K → Warnings: slight angst, ‘friendzoned’, smut; protected penetration, fingering, nipple and breast play, handjob, dirty talk. Yoongi’s sister also deserves a warning 🫢 → Author’s note: We’re halfway there 🎉 I actually wanted to put more stuff into this chapter, but I’m striving for 10-12K word each chapter, so I had to leave some things out and put it in the next chapter, because the smut scene got too long 🫢 I hope you won’t mind, and I promise there will be more smut coming 😇 + I'm currently editing chapter 4 and going to write ch 5+6 as soon as I can! I'm currently going to be moving (we bought our first house wuhu!), so I'll be moving the next 14 days I think. So I don't know how much writing I'll get done, but I hope to get some time here and there. Also - what are you thinking about JK's 3D????? → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

Saying goodbye to Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung was like ripping a piece of your heart out, but the promise of a reunion after your vacation kept your spirits high. 

Now, as you drive with Yoongi to a campsite on the outskirts of Daegu, your excitement bubbles up. The campsite seems like a hidden gem with its inviting lake, and the surrounding lush greenery. 

You can hardly wait to explore this tranquil haven and create new memories with Yoongi.

As the midday sun bathes the campsite in a warm glow, you and Yoongi decide to make your way to the nearby lake. The tranquil waters beckon, promising a peaceful escape from the world. 

You set up your stools by the shore, ready to indulge in some quality relaxation. While you lose yourself in the pages of your book, Yoongi immerses himself in his music, creating a harmonious blend of serenity and melody. 

The hours slip away like gentle waves, leaving you feeling connected to nature and each other in this idyllic setting. As your stomach playfully rumbles, a symphony of hunger, Yoongi gallantly offers to take charge of dinner. 

With a charming smile, he heads back to Holly to kindle a campfire and whip up a delightful meal. The crackling flames and the aroma of cooking food fill the air, creating an enticing atmosphere. 

You, however, are completely engrossed in your book, the words transporting you to another world, oblivious to the tantalizing scents and sounds of Yoongi’s culinary adventure.

Each bite of Yoongi’s mouthwatering meal is a taste of perfection, a savory delight that lingers on your taste buds. You savor every mouthful, fully aware that you’ll miss these delectable moments once your vacation comes to an end. 

As the two of you dine, conversation flows naturally, going from plans in Daegu to the exciting prospect of meeting Yoongi’s family. The anticipation of meeting his family excites you, but also gives you some anxiety, but overall you eagerly look forward to the connection you’ll make with them and you’re sure they are very nice people.

Under the moonlit sky, you find yourself nestled in Yoongi’s warm embrace once more. 

His arms wrap around you protectively, creating an intimate cocoon where the world outside fades into insignificance. The sensation of his breath against your neck, his heart beating in sync with yours, makes this moment feel like an enchanting dream. 

Your heart flutters with each whispered word of affection, and as sleep starts to claim you both, you can’t help but smile, knowing that these tender nights will be cherished memories to hold onto.

The first light of dawn bathes Holly in a soft, gentle glow, revealing Yoongi’s peaceful expression as he stirs awake. 

But what truly captures his attention is the unmistakable hardness pressing against him, demanding attention and relief. 

It’s the hardest he has ever been in the morning. 

He can’t help but chuckle at the idea that your subconscious moans have left such a powerful effect on him. Gently, he tries to shift and extricate himself without waking you, although the bulge in his boxers isn’t making it easy. 

As he carefully moves, he can’t help but wonder how you might react if you were to wake up and discover the delightful predicament you’ve caused him. 

He decides to settle back into your embrace.

Yoongi’s fingers dance softly across your face, tracing the contours of your features as you gradually rouse from your slumber. His touch is as delicate as a whispered promise, making your sleepy senses come alive. 

You’re met with the sensation of his warm breath, brushing against your nape like a secret he’s sharing only with you. As your eyes flutter open, the first thing you see is the affectionate glint in his gaze. It’s a look that tells you he’s been awake for a while, lost in the quiet moments of the morning, his thoughts consumed by you. 

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but offer him a soft sleepy smile in return.

You let out a contented hum as you snuggle further into his embrace, feeling the unmistakable evidence of his desire pressing against your backside. A mischievous grin curls onto your lips, and you can’t resist the urge to tease him gently. 

“Someone is certainly eager this morning,” you playfully murmur, your voice laced with a hint of amusement. Your laughter dances through the air like a sweet melody, intertwining with the warmth of the morning sun.

His warm breath tickles your ear as he continues to nuzzle you, and you feel his dick pressing more firmly against you, “You’re so damn irresistible, and your sleep moaning is such a turn on.”

His words, whispered with a hint of desire, send a thrilling shiver down your spine. You can’t help but let out a sultry chuckle in response. “Well, I guess I can’t control what I do in my sleep,” you tease, your voice dripping with playful seduction. 

The intimate atmosphere between you two grows more charged with each passing moment, and you can feel the anticipation building in the air.

“I want you, babe,” his seductive whisper in your ear ignites a fiery desire within you, and you find it increasingly difficult to control your own desires. You shift beneath his touch, your body responding eagerly to his proximity, and the rush of arousal intensifies, making your senses tingle with anticipation.

“I want you too Yoongi.” 

You reply in a breathy, lustful tone, unable to resist the temptation that he presents. As you confess your desire, you can see the hunger in his eyes intensify. You turn to face him fully, your lips hovering just a breath away from his. 

With a playful smile, you close the gap between you, pressing your mouth against his in a teasing, tantalizing kiss. His lips are soft and plush, and the electric sensation that courses through your body is undeniable. 

His hands start to explore your body, tracing the curves and contours with a gentle yet fervent touch, as your kiss deepens, growing more passionate with each passing moment.

With a primal growl, Yoongi shifts his position, rising up on his hands and knees, his body poised above yours. 

His dark, blown-out pupils are a testament to the intense desire that courses through him, like a tempestuous storm ready to consume everything in its path. You can feel the raw power radiating from him, and it sends shivers of anticipation down your spine. 

His every movement is deliberate and calculated, his gaze locked onto yours with an unwavering intensity. In this moment, you are captivated by the sheer magnetism of his presence, and the air crackles with an electrifying tension.

“You’re so hot,” as your fingers thread through his soft long hair, you pull his irresistibly handsome face down towards yours, the urgency of your desire evident in your touch. 

Your lips meet in a searing kiss, a passionate collision of pent-up emotions and longing. The heat between you intensifies, and your tongues engage in a tantalizing dance, their movements mirroring the unspoken desires that have simmered beneath the surface for far too long.

Each kiss is a revelation, a testament to the magnetic pull you share, igniting a fire that burns hotter with every passing second. Every brush of his lips against yours sends sparks of electricity coursing through your veins, and you can’t help but moan into this mouth, your body arching towards his in a silent plea for more.

The exquisite friction between your clothed core and this throbbing dick sends shockwaves of desire through your body. 

Your arousal has reached a fever pitch, and the anticipation is driving you to the brink of madness. With every tantalizing brush of his hard cock against your wetness, your craving for him intensifies to the point where you feel like you might lose all control. 

Each moment feels like an eternity as you yearn for him to be inside you, to fill the aching void that only he can satisfy. The tension in the air crackles with unrestrained lust, and you can hardly contain the feral need building within you. 

Your body, slick and eager, practically begs for his touch.

Your fingers glide sensually across his pectorals, reveling in his contours of his well-defined chest. The contrast between the hard planes of his chest and the inviting softness of his tummy is a tantalizing paradox, a testament to his rugged yet gentle allure. His physique, sculpted by his profession, holds an alluring mix of strength and vulnerability, and you find yourself drawn to the balance of power and tenderness that he embodies.

As your fingertips explore every inch of his skin, you savor the texture of his body, delighting in the warmth and smoothness of his flesh. 

With a passionate kiss that leaves you both breathless, you convey your burning desire. Breaking the kiss, you lock eyes with him, your voice dripping with irresistible temptation. 

“If you don’t fuck me soon,” you purr, batting your eyelashes teasingly at him, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Your words hang in the air like a sultry promise, igniting a fierce hunger in his eyes. 

“Patience, babe,” he chuckles, his fingers leaving a fiery trail down your body, tracing the contours of your curves beneath his oversized shirt and your snug shorts you’re wearing.

His touch is a delicate torment, making your skin and your breath hitch. Each caress ignites a new wave of longing within you, intensifying your craving for him.

“I don’t get how you’re this patient,” you tease, your voice dripping with desire. “I’ve never seen a dick that incredibly hard before. It seems really painful. Don’t you want release?” as you speak, you seductively buck your hips, grinding your crotch against his, eliciting a deep, guttural moan from his.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugs casually, his eyes locked on your body. 

He tugs at your shirt, grabbing the edges and pulling it over your head in one smooth motion. As he unveils your soft breasts, he licks his lips in pleasure, his gaze fixed on the sight before him. Without hesitation, he reaches out, his fingers lightly caressing the sides of your breasts.

“Damn, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, a hint of awe in his voice as he gives them a gentle squeeze. His desire is evident as he continues, “I didn’t get to appreciate these beautiful tits yesterday.” 

With those words, he lowers his head to one of your breasts, closing his mouth around a nipple that he sucks with a tantalizing rhythm, coaxing it to alertness. His actions send shivers down your spine, and your body quivers in response to his skillful touch.

Your moan escapes your lips in a breathy, wanton melody as he continues his relentless assault on your sensitive breasts. His skilled mouth lavishes attention on one nipple while his hand works its magic on the other, pulling and pinching the now hard bud. 

Each sensation sources through you like an electric shock, sending waves of pleasure radiating from your chest to every corner of your body. 

“Fuck!” 

Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your heart racing in tandem with the fervent rhythm building inside you. Each touch, each kiss, each tug of his lips and flick of his tongue sends bolts of pleasure coursing through your veins. The intensity of the sensations threatens to consume you as your desire ignites into an uncontrollable blaze. 

“Yoongi,” you moan his name like a prayer, your voice heavy with longing and urgency. Every fiber of your being is ablaze with a potent cocktail of yearning, pleasure and anticipation. You can hardly contain the rising tide of ecstasy that threatens to drown you in its overwhelming embrace.

His relentless devotion to your pleasure is nothing short of intoxicating. As he shifts his focus to your neglected breast, his lips and tongue work their magic, creating a symphony of sensations that reverberate through your entire body. The contrast between the warm, wet caresses of his mouth and the delicious friction of his fingers on your other nipple sends you spiraling deeper into ecstasy. 

You arch your back, offering yourself to him, a willing canvas for his passionate artistry. Each flicker of his tongue, each gentle bite, each tantalizing suckle draws you closer to the precipice of pleasure. Your fingers clutch at the sheets, desperately seeking purchase.

Every nerve in your body is humming with electric desire, and your senses are heightened to an almost unbearable level. Yoongi’s skilled ministrations on your breasts send waves of pleasure crashing through you, but you yearn for more, aching for the ultimate release that’s tantalizingly close.

“I’m close!” 

Your words tumble from your lips in breathless desperation, your voice a symphony of need as you cling to the precipice of ecstasy.

“Touch yourself, babe.” 

His husky command sends a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as your fingers hesitates for a moment. 

The van seems to pulse with electric anticipation as you slide your trembling hand between your thighs, your fingers finding their way to the wet heat between your legs. The room is charged with an electrifying tension as your right hand ventures lower, sliding beneath your shorts and panties. 

A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine as your fingertips make contact with your already slick and throbbing clit. 

“Ah!” With a sharp intake of breath, you begin to caress the sensitive bud in slow, tantalizing circles. Each touch sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, drawing out sweet sighs and breathy moans from your trembling lips.

As you continue your fervent exploration, Yoongi’s gaze remains fixed on you, a mix of desire and adoration in his eyes. 

Every gasp, every whimper, every sultry moan that escapes your lips is like music to his ears, stoking the flames of his desire. He watches your pleasure intensify, your body aching and writhing in response to your own ministrations. 

The sight of you on the precipice of ecstasy, with flushed cheeks and tousled hair, ignited a primal hunger within him. His own arousal throbs painfully, but despite the overwhelming urge to claim you, he exercises restraints, driven by an unspoken desire to ensure your pleasure takes precedence. He wants nothing more than to witness you unravel in the most euphoric release, to be the catalyst of your satisfaction.

With each passing moment, he can sense your climax drawing nearer. Your breath quickens, your movement becomes more frantic, and your fingers work their magic with a fervor that borders on desperation.

The crescendo of pleasure builds within you, a whirlwind of sensations that threatens to consume your very being. 

Your fingers dance over your engorged clit, tracing patterns of desire that mirror the fervent rhythm of your heart. It’s a symphony of ecstasy, each note played in tandem with Yoongi’s fervent ministrations on your sensitive nipples.

His talented mouth explores the peaks of your breasts with an unrelenting hunger, switching between them as if he’s trying to draw forth every once of pleasure within you. His lips, tongue, and teeth create a symphony of sensations on your sensitive nubs, a symphony that resonates through your body, leaving you trembling on the precipice of bliss.

Then it happens. 

The final, exquisite note in your symphony of pleasure. 

It crashes over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in a sea of euphoria. 

Your body aches, toes curling, and a guttural moan tears from your lips, punctuated by the sweetest sound of Yoongi’s name.

Every fiber of your being seems to vibrate with pleasure, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. It’s a rapture that paints your vision with vibrant colors and sends fireworks exploding behind your closed eyelids. In that instant, you’re entirely lost in the throes of your orgasm, a captive of the intense pleasure that courses through your veins.

Yoongi, with his lips still pressed to your breasts, feels the seismic shift within you, the cascade of pleasure that surges through your body. 

You gently push Yoongi away, your body still tingling from the intense pleasure of your orgasm. As you meet his gaze, you can see a mixture of emotions in his eyes; love, desire and an undeniable hunger. 

It’s a potent combination that mirrors your own desire, and you can’t wait any longer. Your body craves his touch, his closeness, and the fulfillment that only he can provide. 

You want him now.

“Yoongi, I need you now,” with a sense of urgency and raw desire burning in your eyes, you plead with Yoongi, your voice a husky whisper that conveys the depth of your need. Every second that passes feels like an eternity, and you can no longer bear the anticipation. 

You’re aching for him, your body yearning to be filled and consumed by him.

As you hastily discard your shorts and panties, your actions are driven by an almost primal need. 

Yoongi, sensing your desperation, doesn’t waste a moment. He’s equally consumed by desire, his body throbbing with longing for you. His cock, straining against the confines of his boxers, is a testament to his own need for release. 

A knowing chuckle escapes his lips, a mix of amusement and desire, as he helps you remove your remaining clothing. 

Your fingers tremble with a mixture of anticipation and excitement as you grab onto the elastic of Yoongi’s boxers. 

The knowledge that you are about to reveal the object of your deepest desire sends a shiver down your spine. 

With a swift, almost eager motion, you roll down the fabric and pull it down, exposing Yoongi’s throbbing cock to the morning air. The sight before you takes your breath away. It’s not your first encounter with a dick, by no means, but this is different. 

Yoongi’s cock is a work of art, beautifully sculpted and perfectly proportioned. Its girth is something to behold, stretching your imagination as to how it will feel when it’s buried deep inside you. 

The reddened tip glistens with a bead of precum, a visual testament to his undeniable desire for you.

A teasing smile dances on your lips as you lick them, your gaze fixed on his cock. 

It’s a moment of pure, unfiltered desire as you reach out, your hand trembling with anticipation. You’re captivated by the pulsing heat emanating from him, and the thought of how he’ll feel in your grasp ignites a fire within you. 

Your fingers brush against the silky skin, and you can’t help but let out a soft, appreciative gasp at the sensation. As your hand closes around his throbbing length, you know that there’s no turning back from the ecstasy that awaits you both.

Your eagerness is palpable as you stroke his dick, desire burning in your eyes. His raspy, breathless voice sends shivers down your spine as he anticipates your next move. With a devilish glint in your eyes, you slowly let go of his throbbing cock, releasing it from your gentle grasp.

“I know what you’re thinking, babe,” he pants, his voice laced with a mix of desire and restraint, “but if you do that, I’m gonna come in five seconds, and that would be embarrassing.”

You can’t help but pout in mock offense, your lips forming a playful, sultry curve. Your own arousal is undeniable, but you’re willing to indulge in some teasing foreplay before diving into the depth of passion. You just really want to suck him off, or at least give him a hand. 

“I would rather come inside your pussy,” his sultry words send a delicious thrill coursing through your body, and your breath hitches as his warm tongue grazes your earlobe. You can’t help but squirm beneath him, your need for him growing more intense by the second.

Your hand, guided by desire and need, finds its way back to his throbbing cock, fingers wrapping around it firmly, but not too tight. You begin to stroke him slowly, your touch teasing and deliberate.

Yoongi’s eyes darken with desire as he watches your skilled fingers dance over his length. The intensity of the moment hangs in the air, and you both know you’re playing with fire.

“God, I’d love that,” you gasp, the mere thought sending shivers of anticipation racing down your spine, your voice trembling with desire.

He chuckles again and reaches over your head inside one of the cabinets closest to you. 

He pulls out a pack of condoms. Your eyes go wide, as you wonder why he had condoms in the cabinet, “Did you expect this to happen when we packed for this trip over a month ago?” 

You pout, caught between surprise and amusement. He just chuckles more as he rips it open with his mouth, “I bought them yesterday at the train station,” and at this revelation, your eyes go even wider. 

“After yesterday, I really wanted to make love to you, so yeah,” he says, stroking his dick teasingly and releasing a groan that sends your heart racing.

Before he rolls the condom on, he looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and concern.

“Do you need any prep?” he asks, his voice husky with anticipation. Your gaze drifts to his thick dick, and you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. 

“Maybe, yeah,” you admit, your voice a soft whisper filled with awe as you look from his impressive length to his hand holding the condom. “To be honest, it’s been a while, and you’re… well, you’re quite big. So, some prep would probably be best,” you mumble, your cheeks flushed with both desire and anticipation, as he discards the condom somewhere in the sheets.

“I’ll stretch you with my fingers, okay?” 

He says, his gaze locked with yours as he sits back on his knees and gently spreads your legs. You nod eagerly, desire burning in your eyes. You can barely contain your need for him; every second feels like an eternity, and you crave his touch like never before.

“Damn, you’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice laced with desire, as he slides a finger over your slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit before gently pushing one finger inside your warm, welcoming core. 

The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and you arch your back, aching for more of his touch. The moment he slips one of his fingers inside you, a low, needy moan escapes your lips. It’s been far too long since you’ve been with a partner, and the feeling of his digit inside you sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. 

As good as your toys have been, nothing can quite compare to the satisfaction of the human touch.

He continues to work his fingers inside you, a slow and deliberate rhythm that has you practically melting beneath his touch. With each push and pull, you can feel yourself relaxing and opening up to him. When he adds a second finger, your reaction is immediate. 

A soft, needy moan escapes your lips, and you can’t help but close your eyes as waves of arousal wash over you, making you feel like putty in his hands.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding about how tight you are,” he gasps, his voice filled with a heady mix of pleasure and desire. His eyes devour your flushed form, tracing the contours of your slightly sweaty skin. 

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your lips are bitten a tempting shade of red, and your eyes are pools of intense desire, making him ache for you even more.

Your voice comes out in a breathy, desperate plea, the urgency in your tone impossible to ignore, “Fuck, Yoongi!” As he continues to stretch you, even adding a third finger, you can feel the tightness gradually giving way to aching need. 

“Yoongi, please,” you whimper, your body trembling with anticipation. “I need you inside me now.”

You watch with bated breath as he sheaths himself with a fresh condom, the anticipation building with each passing second. His eyes lock onto yours, a hunger burning in the depths as he positions himself at your entrance. 

The tension in the van is palpable, and you can practically feel the heat radiating from his throbbing cock as it brushes against your slick folds. Your heart races, and you can’t help but let out a soft, needy moan, urging him to take the plunge and fill you with his dick.

As he enters you, a rush of sensations floods your senses. 

The slow, deliberate slide of his thick cock into your tight, wet and warm pussy sends shivers down your spine. The stretch is exquisite, a delicious mix of pleasure and desire that leaves you craving more. You can feel every inch of him, and it’s as if he’s filling a void you didn’t even know existed. 

Your pussy clenches around him, aching to be completely consumed by his desire, and you can’t help but arch your back, silently urging him to bury himself deeper within you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Yoongi’s voice trembles with desire as he inches deeper into your velvety depths. 

Each millimeter of his length that disappears inside you elicits a chorus of moans and gasps from your lips, a symphony of pleasure that fills the van. Your fingers dig into his thighs, your grip growing tighter as he takes you to the brink of ecstasy. 

His control and consideration for your pleasure make the anticipation all the more electrifying, and you can’t help but arch your back again, pressing your body further into his irresistible embrace, urging him to claim you completely.

“Move, faster,” you voice quivers with desperation as you implore him for more, your body aching for the passionate rhythm only he can provide. Yoongi’s movements quicken, the intoxicating friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. 

With every thrust, he delves deeper into your core, his balls slapping against you in a hypnotic cadence that echoes through the van. 

“Fuck!” 

As your bodies unite in a torrent of desire, you gasp for breath, feeling every inch of him stretching and filling you to the brim. Your nails dig into his thighs as he starts a rhythm that’s both electrifying and intoxicating. With each thrust, he claims you further, and your moans of pleasure harmonize with his ragged breaths. 

“Shit, I don’t think I’m going to last long,” he pants, as he begins to pull out slowly.

Lost in a whirlwind of sensations, you can barely find your voice, but you manage to gasp, “Yes, Yoongi, yes!”

His relentless pace has you teetering on the brink of release, your body a symphony of pleasure as his grip on your hips tighten and he plunges into you over and over again, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

You lock your gaze with his, your eyes blazing with desire, and you feel an overwhelming rush of desire surging through your veins.

Desperation drips from your voice as you arch your back and beg, “Please, Yoongi, give it to me harder.” Your fingers dig into the sheets, your body craving his every movement. You lock eyes with him, a silent plea for him to take you to the pinnacle of pleasure. 

“Fuck, babe, if I do that I’m afraid you won’t be able to walk,” he groans as he tries to restrain himself, because fuck he would like that too. Your words tumble out in a breathless whimper, “I don’t care, Yoongi, I need it. I need you.” 

Your desire for him is undeniable, and you’re willing to embrace the consequences. 

The urgency in your voice, coupled with your longing gaze, fuels his own desire, pushing him closer to the edge. Yet, his love for you and the plans you both have today hold him back. Last time you hiked, he did enjoy carrying you down the mountain, but damn he really just wants to intertwine his fingers with yours as you walk hand in hand later.

Your voice is filled with raw desire as you repeat each syllable in a growl, “I don’t care,” your eyes locked onto his. 

In this moment, nothing else matters but the burning connection between you and Yoongi. It’s a declaration of your insatiable need for him, a desire that threatens to consume you both completely.

“Fuck, then turn around.” 

He instructs as he pulls out and lets your legs down from his shoulders. With a sultry smile and a flick of your hair, you turn around eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation. You arch your back and present yourself to him, your ass enticingly swaying as you tease him with your seductive dance like you did yesterday, but today you finally get all of him. 

He seizes your hips firmly, his grip reassuring and possessive, and lines up his throbbing dick with your slick entrance. 

With an almost primal need, he thrusts into you in a single, commanding motion. The sensation is electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you can’t help but gasp in ecstasy, your world momentarily reduced to the overpowering connection between your bodies. 

Your fingers dig into the sheets as you try to steady yourself, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

“Are you okay?” He breathes as he remains still inside you, his hands tenderly caressing your hips. You offer a soft chuckle in response, head sinking into the sheets as you catch your breath. 

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect it,” you admit, your voice tinged with a mix of surprise and pleasure. With unwavering determination, he withdraws and seizes your hips, initiating an unyielding assault on your core. Each thrust delves deep, reaching places that send waves of ecstasy through your body, causing your head to dip lower, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

“Fuck.” He exclaims in a breathless voice, savoring the erotic view unfolding before him. 

Your luscious curves are on full display, the arch of your back accentuating your enchanting figure, and your tousled hair framing your face as it disappears into the sheets, making the scene even more tantalizing.

As he repeatedly targets that exquisite sweet spot inside you, you can’t help but lose yourself in ecstasy, “That’s it!”

Your voice rises in a crescendo of pleasure, your cries echoing through the van, mingling with his primal groans of desire. With each powerful thrust, you instinctively match his rhythm, a symphony of passion and longing unfolding between your entwined bodies.

Amidst his fervent, rhythmic thrusts, he manages to gasp out a question, his voice strained and breathless, “Are you close again?”

Beads of sweat cascade down his forehead, and his disheveled long hair clings to his face. He struggles to maintain control, his eyes locked on your flushed form.

You can only respond with an eager nod, your voice hitched in a husky whisper, “Yes, Yoongi, so close.” Your body trembles with anticipation, every fiber of your being aching for release.

His touch on your swollen clit is electrifying, a single stroke enough to push you over the edge. Your world shatters into a kaleidoscope of sensation as you scream his name, the pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves. Your breath comes in ragged pants as you ride out the intense, quaking aftershocks of your climax.

As your climax engulfs you, your inner muscles contract with an irresistible force, squeezing around his dick in a deliciously tight embrace. 

“Shit,” he can hardly contain himself, his thrusts growing erratic as he fights to hold on, but the intensity of your pleasure becomes his undoing. 

With a guttural groan, he spills his warm liquid into the condom, his hips bucking as his release surges into you. You can feel his dick twitching inside your throbbing warmth pussy, a tantalizing reminder of the intimacy you share. 

A longing for a more raw and bare connection lingers in your thoughts, a desire perhaps to be explored another time.

As you both pant for air, the remnants of pleasure still coursing through your bodies, Yoongi continues to thrust into you, savoring the exquisite sensations. 

He yearns to stay locked in this intimate moment with you, to revel in the connection you share, but the intensity of his release leaves his once rigid dick now growing soft. His desire is undeniable, but for now, the sensations are overwhelming, and he can’t help but retreat from the depths of your warm pussy. 

You both lay there, spent and sated, the aftermath of your desire binding you together in a cocoon of contentment.

“Fuck, that was incredible.” 

Yoongi breathes out in a husky voice as he slowly withdraws from the depths of your desire, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. He carefully removes the condom, tying it off, and then tosses it aside, the desire still smoldering in his eyes. 

The van is filled with the heady scent of your shared passion, and the aftermath of your heated lovemaking lingers in the air as a reminder of the intensity you both just experienced.

“Fuck, yes. Good morning to you too,” you tease, sending him a playful flying kiss as you gracefully turn around, settling onto your back. 

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over your entangled bodies. Your post-orgasmic bliss has left you feeling utterly content, and the playful banter between you and Yoongi only adds to the intimacy of the moment.

Yoongi joins you on the bed, and together, you both lay there, chests rising and falling as you catch your breath. The intimate connection you’ve just shared still lingers in the air, a potent reminder of your passionate encounter. As you lay side by side, you steal glances at each other, your eyes conveying a mixture of desire, affection, and a newfound sense of closeness.

Yoongi reaches for the cabinet once more, retrieving a small towel, and with gentle care, he starts to clean you up between your legs. 

You can’t help but appreciate his tenderness in this intimate moment, and you express your gratitude with a soft smile, whispering, “Thank you, you’re so sweet.” The affectionate gesture further deepens the connection between you two, leaving a warm and lingering sensation of closeness that transcends the physical realm.

“Always,” he smirks as his eyes roam over your naked form, a playful glint in his eyes. “We have to get ready for the hike. I’ll whip up some breakfast. You can take a refreshing shower in the lake if you’d like,” he suggests, tossing the towel aside before reaching for his boxers, which have disappeared somewhere in the rumpled sheets. 

“Will you join me when you’ve finished making breakfast?” you inquire with a playful flutter of your eyelashes, your movements graceful as you rise from the bed. You begin searching for your clothes and a towel, your voice laced with a tempting invitation that hints at the anticipation of sharing an intimate moment in the tranquil waters of the lake.

“Fuck yeah.” 

He responds with a wicked smirk, and as you meet his gaze, you can already see the flames of desire dancing in his eyes, mirroring the burning passion that rages within your own. 

With excitement bubbling in your chest, you efficiently pack your bags and don your hiking gear, preparing for the adventure ahead. The thought of ascending Palgongsan Mountain and sharing this experience with Yoongi fuels your anticipation. 

Every strap tightened and every buckle secured serves as a reminder of the thrilling journey awaiting you both.

Sitting side by side on the bus, you and Yoongi share a moment of awe as Palgongsan Mountain comes into view. 

Its vibrant colors, a symphony of green, yellow, and orange, blend together in a breathtaking masterpiece. You turn to Yoongi, a sense of wonder lighting up your eyes, recognizing that he’s witnessed this natural beauty countless times before. However, for you, this is an entirely new experience, your first glimpse of Daegu’s scenic marvels. 

“It’s so incredibly beautiful,” you marvel, your words filled with genuine amazement, sharing this captivating moment with him.

Standing before the majestic mountain, you’re left utterly breathless. Your next move is towards the Cable Cars, where you and Yoongi board and embark on a remarkable journey that nearly takes you to the mountain’s peak. 

As the Cable Car ascends, you’re treated to an awe-inspiring spectacle. The colors of nature come alive beneath your feet, a mesmerizing dance of hues akin to the strokes of a masterful painting, creating an unforgettable picture. The feeling of floating above this breathtaking landscape etches a memory that will forever linger in your heart.

Exiting the Cable Cars, you and Yoongi are now standing at the precipice of the mountain’s summit. With unwavering determination, you set your sights on the hiking trail that will guide you to the pinnacle. It’s a path marked by adventure, beckoning you to explore the hidden treasures of nature.

As you step onto the trail, your fingers intertwine with Yoongi’s, forming a connection that transcends words. 

Walking hand in hand, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this idyllic moment. It feels like a page ripped from a romantic novel, a shared journey into the unknown, your hearts beating in harmony as you navigate the path together. 

While the title of your relationship remains unspoken, the bond you’re forming feels undeniable, and for now, you’re content to savor the sweet uncertainty of what the future holds. And thankfully your back doesn’t hurt as Yoongi was afraid it would.

Upon reaching the summit, you stumble upon a quaint store nestled in the mountains. Gathering some refreshments, you both settle on a weathered bench, perched like conquerors overlooking the vast panorama of Daegu. 

The view from this height is nothing short of breathtaking, with the sprawling cityscape spread out beneath you like a living tapestry of lights and life. The sensation of being on top of the world, sharing this moment with Yoongi, fills your hearts with a sense of accomplishment and contentment. 

It’s a view that seems to mirror the possibilities of your new addition to your friendship, stretching out in every direction, waiting to be explored.

As you both gaze out at the mesmerizing view, Yoongi’s voice breaks the tranquil silence, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he poses a question that carries the weight of curiosity and sincerity.

“Can I ask you something?” 

He inquires, his tone laced with a subtle vulnerability.

You turn to him, your own eyes filled with warmth and genuine interest, and reply with a gentle nod, encouraging him to share his thoughts. 

“Of course, Yoongi, go ahead.”

“How come you haven’t had sex in a long time?” 

Yoongi’s unexpected question catches you off guard, and you momentarily struggle to control your reaction, almost choking on your water. His gentle chuckle eases the tension, and you regain your composure. With a sip of water, you offer an honest response, your words carrying a mix of candor and humor.

“Honestly?” 

You begin, setting your water bottle down, “I’ve been tired of the casual hookups, and I didn’t really feel satisfied, so I settled with my toys. Plus, that way, I didn’t have to deal with toxic men,” you quip, savoring the refreshing sip of water before continuing.

“Toxic men?” he inquires, intrigued by your choice of words.

You don’t hold back, letting your frustration and past wounds color your response. “Yeah, lying, cheating fuckboys,” you assert, your voice filled with a mixture of anger and resignation. “The kind who’ll make you feel like you’re their whole world one day, only to tear you down the next,” you explain, your shoulders lifting in a shrug as you reflect on the painful memories.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, his eyes filled with genuine sympathy, “The guys I know, me included, aren’t like that,” he reassures you with sincerity.

You offer a small smile, feeling a warmth in your chest as you place your hand on his. “I know, Yoon,” you say softly, your eyes meeting his. “Guess I’ve just been unlucky. What about you?”

“Just a lot of casual hookups,” Yoongi admits with a hint of regret, his gaze briefly falling to his hands, “Most of my time goes into the garage, which is also why I broke up with my last girlfriend.”

“Would you want to be in a relationship again?” you ask, your voice soft, a mixture of hope and anxiety in your eyes. You hold your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect.

“Yeah, with the right woman.” 

He says with a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes, his gaze never leaving yours. As those words hang in the air, you can’t help but wonder and hope, your heart beating a little faster, if you might just be the right woman for him.

Today, Yoongi has planned for you to meet his family, and a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbles within you. 

You’ve heard about his family’s restaurant in Daegu, where they’ve honed their culinary expertise, and you’re well aware of Yoongi’s extraordinary talent in the kitchen. 

As you prepare to meet his loved ones, your senses tingle with anticipation. Your heart flutters with the thought of sharing this special part of his life. Despite your nerves, you’re confident that his family, who’ve nurtured such a remarkable person, must be as warm and wonderful as he is.

You board the bus to their family home, your anticipation growing with every passing mile. As you arrive, you’re immediately struck by the grandeur of the house. It’s a majestic residence that exudes warmth and comfort.

With a hopeful yet nervous heart, you approach the front door and raise your hand to knock. 

The door swings open, revealing Yoongi’s older sister. 

Her face lights up with an infectious smile, and her eyes dance with excitement. 

Without hesitation, she pulls Yoongi into a warm, tight embrace, a mix of joy and nostalgia twinkling in her eyes. Despite his initial grumbling, Yoongi reciprocates the hug, his stoic facade melting away in the presence of his beloved sister.

Then, her gaze shifts to you, and a mischievous glint sparkles in her eyes as she playfully inquires, “Is that your girlfriend?” 

Your cheeks immediately flush with embarrassment, and you find yourself at a loss for words. 

The label of your relationship with Yoongi has never been explicitly defined, leaving you in an awkward predicament. 

But before you can muster a response, Yoongi steps in with a casual yet protective tone, “Nah, we’re just really good friends.” His words hang in the air, tinged with a hint of something unspoken, leaving you to wonder about the true nature of your friendship.

His sister astutely observes the swift transformation in your expression, which now portrays a poignant blend of regret and sadness. Deep down, you feel a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—simultaneous waves of disappointment and anger. How could Yoongi casually introduce you as ‘just friends’ when the connection between you both runs far deeper?

Yet, in the recesses of your heart, you grapple with the realization that you’ve never truly had that defining conversation to cement your relationship status. It’s a bitter truth that leaves you torn between yearning for more and fearing that you might have inadvertently pushed him away with your silent expectations.

His sister ushers you deeper into the heart of their childhood home, where the familiar scent of home-cooked meals wafts from the kitchen. 

There, you find Yoongi’s mother, her hands deftly moving across the countertop, orchestrating a symphony of flavors. Her warm smile greets you, and you return the gesture with a respectful bow, appreciating the comfort of this inviting kitchen and the sense of family that permeates every corner.

You extend a warm greeting to Yoongi’s father, who is meticulously setting the table in the cozy dining room. 

The room exudes an air of tradition, with polished wooden furniture and framed family photos adorning the walls. 

As you watch him arrange the utensils and place mats, you can’t help but feel a sense of admiration for the family’s close-knit bond and the effort they put into maintaining their traditions. 

You find yourself in the cozy living room, engaged in a polite yet slightly uncomfortable conversation with Yoongi’s sister and her husband. 

As she peppers you with questions, your mind races to find the right answers; how and when you and Yoongi met and you vividly recall the day you met him, the memory of your car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, and the serendipity of Jimin calling him to help you a decade ago. 

When she inquires about your relationship status with Yoongi, you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment as you echo the same words he used earlier, ‘just friends’, though it knots your stomach with unspoken desires. 

As the questions continue, you begin to feel a subtle tension building within you. You find yourself carefully measuring your responses, your eyes occasionally glancing toward Yoongi in search of reassurance.

When asked about the duration of your vacation, your lips curve into a polite smile, but a flicker of excitement ignites in your eyes. “About another month and a half,” you respond, your voice laced with a mix of anticipation and wonder at the adventures yet to come.

As your job in marketing becomes the topic of conversation, you lean forward, your enthusiasm shining through. Each word you speak carries the weight of your ambition and dedication to your career. 

“I work in marketing,” you explain, “helping businesses connect with their audience in meaningful ways.” The more you talk about your work, the more you feel a sense of pride and accomplishment, the embers of your professional journey glowing brightly in your words.

As Yoongi’s sister turns her attention to him, you watch with interest, wondering how he’ll respond to her probing questions. 

The living room seems to hold its breath, awaiting his answers. Yoongi, reclining comfortably in a nearby armchair, exudes an air of calm confidence as he addresses each query.

When asked about his garage and work, his eyes light up with a passionate fire. 

“Work’s going great,” he shares, his voice a harmonious blend of pride and determination. “The garage has been keeping me busier than ever, and I’m loving every moment of it. I get to work on amazing cars and meet incredible people.”

As the conversation shifts to his relationship status, Yoongi’s smile takes on a hint of playfulness. 

“Well,” he begins, “I’ve been focusing on my career, but you never know when the right person will come along.” His response carries an air of mystery, leaving room for interpretation, and you can’t help but feel a flicker of hope, wondering if you might be that ‘right person’.

As the conversation takes an unexpected turn toward the topic of children and grandchildren, you find yourself caught up in the familial exchange. Yoongi’s response is laced with a touch of sibling rivalry, countering with a smirk, “You’re the eldest, so you should be the first.”

Yoongi’s sister, perhaps inspired by her own maternal instincts, playfully hints at future generations by caressing her tummy. 

The moment is charged with anticipation and joy, and you’re not entirely sure why, but it triggers a spontaneous, delighted gasp from your lips, followed by a small, joyful shriek. The room falls into a hushed, expectant silence, all eyes turning to Yoongi’s sister. 

Her subtle gesture carries a world of meaning, and Yoongi, with wide-eyed astonishment, breaks the silence with a heartfelt question: “Are you pregnant?”

In response, she nods, a radiant smile lighting up her face, and the room erupts in a chorus of heartfelt congratulations.

As laughter fills the room and Yoongi’s sister playfully teases him about not having an excuse anymore to delay having children of his own, he responds with a hearty, confident laugh of his own. He knows that his journey will unfold in its own time, and he’s unapologetically determined to live life on his terms.

As you all gather around the dining table, the fragrant aroma of the Korean feast engulfs the room, making your mouths water in anticipation. 

The table is adorned with a colorful array of dishes, each one meticulously prepared and bursting with flavors that dance on your taste buds. Kimchi, with its spicy and tangy kick, stands as a vibrant centerpiece, surrounded by the inviting allure of Bibimbap’s sizzling stone bowl, the mouthwatering tteokbokki, and the succulent bulgogi. 

The table is a tapestry of Korean culinary delights, showcasing the rich heritage and diversity of flavors, from the crispy Samgyeopsal to the comforting warmth of Japchae and the hearty Jjigae. Your eyes dart from one dish to another, trying to decide where to start, and the promise of fried chicken adds an exciting twist to this already indulgent spread. 

With each dish more tempting than the last, you can’t help but feel a deep appreciation for the cultural richness and culinary mastery before you. 

As you take your first bite, the explosion of flavors on your palate brings a symphony of delight to the dinner table, making this gathering a truly unforgettable experience.

Amid the mouthwatering feast laid before you, the conversation around the table continues to flow like a gentle river. 

Yoongi’s mother, a warm and welcoming presence, leans in with genuine curiosity sparkling in her eyes as she asks the familiar question about how you and Yoongi crossed paths.

With a smile, you recount the serendipitous encounter from a decade ago, a tale woven with threads of chance and fate. Your words paint a vivid picture of a young woman in distress, stranded with a broken-down car, and a chance meeting with a skilled mechanic who happened to be none other than Yoongi. 

You can thank Jimin for introducing you. The story carries a touch of destiny, one that led to a friendship that has grown and deepened over the years.

As you share this personal history, the table seems to come alive with shared laughter and nods of approval. It’s a testament to the power of chance meetings and the bonds that can form when hearts connect, even under unexpected circumstances. 

Yoongi’s mother listens intently, her smile growing as she begins to understand the special connection between you and her son, a connection that extends far beyond mere friendship.

With a gracious nod and a warm expression, Yoongi’s mother extends a heartfelt invitation. 

“You know,” she begins, “while you’re here in Daegu, you simply must visit our family restaurant. It’s been a labor of love for us, and I would be delighted to have you there.” 

Her words carry a sense of pride and tradition, and you can see the deep connection she has with the family business. The idea of sharing a meal in their restaurant feels like more than just an invitation; it’s an offering of warmth, a way to welcome you into their world and share a piece of their family’s history with you. 

As you accept her invitation with gratitude and enthusiasm, you can’t help but feel that this trip to Daegu is turning into an unforgettable journey filled with not only breathtaking sights but also heartwarming connections.

The food is nothing short of extraordinary, each dish a symphony of flavors that dance on your taste buds. 

As you savor each bite, you can’t help but admire the culinary expertise that has been passed down through generations in Yoongi’s family. The flavors are a perfect reflection of the love and dedication that goes into their cooking. Around the table, the conversation flows effortlessly. Yoongi’s family is warm and welcoming, making you feel like you’ve known them for years. 

Stories are shared, laughter fills the air, and you find yourself feeling grateful for this unexpected moment of connection.

After the satisfying meal, Yoongi leads you down a hallway filled with memories, photographs, and some familiar faces frozen in time. The scent of nostalgia lingers in the air as he pushes open a wooden door, revealing his old room. 

Stepping inside, you’re instantly enveloped in a cocoon of memories. The room is a time capsule, preserving fragments of Yoongi’s past. You notice posters of his favorite bands still adorning the walls, faded and weathered but still carrying the same rebellious spirit.

As he shares anecdotes of his teenage years, the room comes alive with the echoes of laughter, dreams, and aspirations. It’s a place where the past and present collide, where you feel closer to Yoongi than ever before.

In this room, you discover a different facet of him—a young dreamer, passionate and determined, who embarked on a journey that would eventually lead him to you. 

As you prepare to leave Yoongi’s childhood home and return to the campsite for a restful night’s sleep, his sister gently pulls you aside. 

Her voice is hushed, carrying the weight of understanding and a hint of mischievousness as she leans in close, her words intended for your ears alone.

“I can see how you look at him,” she murmurs, a knowing smile dancing on her lips. 

“You should make a move.”

A blush creeps across your cheeks, a testament to the unspoken connection that has already blossomed between you and Yoongi. 

You can’t help but chuckle softly, realizing that her keen perception has unveiled a secret that your hearts have already whispered to each other. 

It’s a moment of shared understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the budding romance that has woven its way into your journey. With a conspiratorial nod, you convey your gratitude for her words, knowing that the path ahead holds the promise of something beautiful and profound. 

The stars above seem to twinkle with approval as you head back to the campsite, the night filled with the magic of possibilities.

The desire to have that important conversation with Yoongi simmers beneath the surface, a question that lingers on the tip of your tongue, waiting for the right moment to be spoken. 

It’s the uncharted territory of your emotions, a territory filled with both hope and trepidation. You yearn to understand what you are to him, to unravel the intricate threads of your friendship.

Yet, doubt and uncertainty cast their shadows. 

What if his intentions differ from yours? 

What if he prefers the current arrangement, comfortable in its casualness?

His declaration of ‘liking’ you hangs in the air, a tantalizing clue but not the complete answer to the question that occupies your thoughts.

For now, you choose to immerse yourself in the present, savoring each stolen moment with him. The allure of his presence makes it effortless to lose yourself in the intricate tapestry of emotions and desires that entwine your souls. The unspoken question lingers, but as time unfolds, so too may the answers you seek.

Today, the world unfurls before you like a vast canvas, ready to be painted with the vibrant strokes of your adventure. 

After weeks of anticipation, your bicycles are no longer silent spectators, dangling on the back of Holly; they are now your chariots, poised to carry you through a day of exploration.

With the wind tousling your hair and the rhythmic hum of tires on pavement as your soundtrack, you embark on your cycling escapade. 

The world blurs around you as you pedal through the cycling park, the two of you in perfect harmony with each other and the world. Eventually, you find yourselves in a tranquil park, a picturesque oasis nestled amidst the bustling city. 

Here, under the generous shade of swaying trees, you lay out a picnic blanket, surrounded by the gentle whispers of leaves and the distant laughter of children at play. Lunchtime arrives as a welcomed intermission in your day of adventure. Your meal is a symphony of flavors and shared laughter, a testament to the simple joys of life and the beauty of your friendship.

After days of vibrant exploration and exhilarating adventures, the two of you decide it’s time for a change of pace. You yearn for a day of tranquility and relaxation, a chance to immerse yourselves in the soothing embrace of Daegu’s hidden gem, Spa Valley.

As you step into this oasis of serenity, the world outside seems to fade away, replaced by the calming ambiance of the spa. The air is filled with the gentle whispers of steam rising from the hot springs, carrying with them promises of relaxation and rejuvenation.

Your journey through the spa takes you to the jjimjilbang, a realm where time slows down and cares dissipate like steam. Here, amidst the warmth of saunas and the serenity of traditional Korean spa treatments, you and Yoongi find yourselves immersed in a world of pure bliss.

The jjimjilbang’s soothing effects seem almost redundant for Yoongi, already blessed with an impeccable complexion and vitality. Yet, the experience proves to be more than just skin-deep, allowing the both of you to bask in the healing properties of the spa, feeling your worries and stresses evaporate with every passing moment.

In the midst of mid-August, a gentle shift in the air signals a welcome respite from the scorching heat that dominated the previous months. As the weather begins to cool ever so slightly, you find yourselves faced with a day where the possibilities are endless.

With a thoughtful smile, Yoongi suggests a plan for the day – one that resonates with your shared love for comfort and relaxation. 

The idea of spending a leisurely day inside the cozy confines of the van, cocooned in blankets and pillows, captures your imagination. As you both settle into your impromptu sanctuary, the van becomes a haven of comfort and contentment. 

Yoongi spoons you from behind, his head nestled perfectly against yours, creating a sense of intimacy and warmth that transcends mere physical proximity.

Together, you lose yourselves in the captivating world of k-dramas, each episode drawing you deeper into its intricate narratives and compelling characters. As the hours drift by, you revel in the simplicity of this shared moment, and with the sound of your steady breath, Yoongi drifts off to sleep.

Awakening from the tranquil embrace of a midday nap, Yoongi stirs at the gentle movements of your form. His eyes, still heavy with the remnants of sleep, meet yours as you reposition yourself. The corners of his lips curl upwards, as if an idea has blossomed within his mind. 

His voice, a low and raspy timbre softened by slumber, breaks the silence. “You know,” he begins, his words tinged with a hint of excitement, “I was thinking... How about a date tonight? To my parents’ restaurant.” 

The suggestion hangs in the air, poised like a secret waiting to be unveiled. In that moment, you catch a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes, a desire to share more of himself with you, to bring you into a cherished part of his world.

The prospect of a date carries a touch of anticipation, an invitation to explore the layers of your relationship. 

It’s an opportunity to see Yoongi in a different light, not just as the passionate and adventurous best friend you’ve come to adore, but also as a son and a part of a loving family.

As the day unfolds into evening, the prospect of this date fills the air with a sense of excitement, promising an evening filled with culinary delights and the warmth of family ties. And with each passing hour, the anticipation builds, making the moment when you step into that restaurant feel like the beginning of an unforgettable chapter in your shared journey.

Entering Yoongi’s parents’ restaurant, you’re enveloped in an atmosphere that exudes warmth and tradition. The subtle aroma of Korean spices and savory delights fills the air, creating a sensory embrace that immediately sets the tone for the evening.

The restaurant, bathed in soft, warm lighting, beckons you further. It’s a haven where tradition meets modernity, evident in the fusion of classic Korean dishes and contemporary culinary innovations. The menu is a treasure trove of choices, offering everything from time-honored Korean staples to the sizzle and delight of individual grills at every table.

Around you, diners chat, their laughter and clinking glasses composing a melodious background to the scene. The soft hum of conversations, punctuated by the sizzling sounds of barbecue, creates a symphony of camaraderie that resonates throughout the establishment.

As you settle into your seats, you can’t help but appreciate the familial atmosphere. There’s a sense of history here, a feeling of belonging that Yoongi shares with you, a connection to a place that has been a part of his life for as long as he can remember. 

The waitstaff, dressed in elegant uniforms, move with grace and precision, attending to the needs of each table. It’s clear that this is more than just a restaurant; it’s a labor of love, a testament to the dedication and passion of Yoongi’s family. 

As you peruse the menu, your senses are teased by the tantalizing descriptions of dishes, each one promising an unforgettable culinary journey. You can feel the excitement building, knowing that this evening will not only be a feast for the palate but also a celebration of shared experiences, flavors, and connections.

As you both savor the delectable dishes, the flavors dance on your taste buds, a symphony of tastes and textures that make each bite an exquisite experience. The rich, nuanced dishes served at Yoongi’s parents’ restaurant showcase the culinary heritage of Korea, and you can’t help but appreciate the artistry and care that goes into each creation.

As you savored the delectable Korean dishes, the warm and welcoming presence of Yoongi’s mother added an extra layer of comfort to the evening. Her brief visit, filled with genuine well-wishes and smiles, made you feel like a part of their family. 

It was moments like these that reminded you of the beauty of sharing a meal with loved ones, the way it could bridge gaps and create lasting memories.

With a contented sigh, you couldn’t help but express your delight. “Everything looks so good,” you said, your eyes sparkling with appreciation. “I’m having a great time.” 

Her smile in response was like a reassuring nod, a silent affirmation of your place at the table and in their hearts. As she left you two alone again, the atmosphere seemed to shimmer with the warmth of shared laughter and delicious food. It was a moment that etched itself into your memory, a testament to the bonds that were forming and the genuine connection you felt with Yoongi and his family.

Between bites, you and Yoongi engage in a delightful conversation, your voices creating a pleasant cadence in the cozy ambiance. His genuine interest in your thoughts warms your heart, making you feel even more connected to him.

He leans in slightly, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the restaurant’s lighting as he asks about your experience meeting his family. It’s clear that he values your opinion, and you share your genuine thoughts, recounting the warmth and hospitality you felt during your visit.

The conversation naturally segues to your impressions of Daegu. With each word, you paint a vivid picture of your journey through the city—its charming streets, vibrant culture, and the breathtaking natural beauty you’ve had the privilege of witnessing. 

Your enthusiasm is palpable, and Yoongi listens intently, his own connection to the city deepening as he sees it through your eyes.

The Soju arrives at your table, its crystal-clear liquid shimmering in the soft candlelight. Yoongi, with practiced ease, takes the lead, pouring a generous amount into your glass, then into his. 

The scent of the traditional Korean spirit fills the air, its mildly sweet aroma inviting you to partake in this shared experience.

You watch as Yoongi raises his glass, the warm glow of the restaurant casting a golden sheen on his features. His eyes lock onto yours, and in that moment, you both understand that this gesture is more than just a drink; it’s a silent toast to the moments you’ve shared and the ones yet to come. 

With a slight smile, you clink your glasses together, the gentle chime of glass against glass resonating like a harmonious note in the air. 

Then, in perfect unison, you both bring the glasses to your lips and down the Soju with a practiced swig.

The liquid courses down your throat, igniting a warm, pleasant fire within. The initial burn gives way to a soothing, tingling sensation, and you can’t help but exchange an appreciative glance with Yoongi. 

Yoongi takes charge of the grill, sizzling slices of succulent meat to perfection. The tantalizing aroma fills the air, making your mouth water in anticipation. As he deftly maneuvers the chopsticks, flipping the meat and ensuring it’s cooked to perfection, a wave of warmth washes over you.

With a genuine smile, he picks up a perfectly cooked piece, the juices glistening as they cling to the tender meat. He extends his chopsticks towards you, offering you a bite with the kind of care that’s become second nature between you. 

You lean forward, parting your lips to accept the delicious mouthful he’s prepared. The flavors explode on your tongue, and for a moment, the world outside this cozy restaurant fades into insignificance. It’s just you, Yoongi, and the extraordinary flavors he’s introduced to your senses.

This simple yet intimate gesture sends your thoughts spiraling. The way he grills for you, feeds you, and how you share this meal together—it all feels so unmistakably domestic. You can’t help but ponder the ’just friends’ label that has lingered between you two.

As Yoongi pours another glass of Soju, the fiery liquid sparkles in the dimly lit ambiance of the restaurant. The soft glow of the overhead lanterns casts enchanting shadows on your faces, creating an intimate cocoon around your table. 

The restaurant’s lively chatter becomes a distant hum as the two of you delve deeper into conversation.

With each sip of Soju, a warm and pleasant buzz envelops you, blurring the edges of your thoughts and inhibitions. It’s as if the world outside this cozy corner has ceased to exist, leaving only the intoxicating blend of shared laughter and desire lingering between you. 

The atmosphere is palpable, charged with the electricity of unspoken emotions. Your eyes meet and lock, a silent conversation passing between them. 

As the Soju continues to flow, the barriers that have held you back begin to crumble. 

The desire that’s simmered beneath the surface now surges to the forefront, impossible to ignore. It’s a thrilling dance of emotions, both exhilarating and terrifying. 

You find yourself drawn to Yoongi, not just as a friend, but as something more. The unspoken tension in the air hangs heavy, like a question that begs to be answered. 

Amidst the Soju-fueled haze, your emotions swirl like a tumultuous sea. 

You long to ask Yoongi about the true nature of your relationship, to define the unspoken connection that binds you two together. But fear creeps in, casting a shadow of doubt over your heart. 

You’re terrified that seeking clarity might shatter the delicate balance you’ve built, that the answers you long for could unravel the beautiful moments you’ve shared.

So, reluctantly, you choose to dwell in the present, to immerse yourself in the warmth of the moment and let the intoxicating Soju serve as your temporary solace. It’s a bittersweet surrender to the current state of things, a conscious decision to savor what you have without demanding more.

Your feelings, though a tempest within, are hidden behind a façade of laughter and casual conversation. The unspoken words hang in the air, an invisible barrier that you dare not cross. In this dance of emotions, you find yourself pushing your desires and the need for labels into the recesses of your mind, at least for now.

It’s a precarious balancing act, one where the thrill of the unknown mingles with the fear of what might change if you dare to confront it. 

And so, you sip your Soju, sharing glances and secrets in silence, allowing the night to take its course.

As the sun begins its descent, casting a warm, golden hue across the landscape, you both decide to embark on a thrilling adventure at E-world, Daegu’s exhilarating theme park. 

The anticipation in the air is palpable as you enter this enchanting realm of wonder and excitement.

The park comes alive as dusk settles in, adorned with a dazzling array of vibrant lights that twinkle like stars in the night sky. Cherry blossoms, delicate and ethereal, sway gently in the breeze, adding an extra layer of enchantment to the scene.

Together, you and Yoongi savor a delightful dinner that fuels your energy for the exhilarating experiences that await. 

As the sun dips below the horizon, you delve into a whirlwind of excitement, riding carousels that spin you around in a whirl of laughter and joy. Yoongi’s infectious dizziness only adds to the merriment, making each ride all the more memorable.

The roller coasters, a symphony of adrenaline and screams, become the crescendo of your theme park adventure. With the wind rushing through your hair and hearts pounding in unison, you both embrace the exhilaration of each twisting turn and heart-pounding drop.

Yoongi might not be a thrill-seeker, but for your sake, he’s willing to embrace the excitement of the amusement park. As the neon lights paint the night sky, he watches you with a tender affection that makes your heart flutter. It’s in the way he gazes at you, his eyes tracing the contours of your delighted expressions.

Despite his own reservations, he joins you on the rides, and you can see a subtle hint of amusement in his eyes.

He savors the moments when your laughter fills the air, your eyes sparkle with childlike wonder, and your smile becomes a permanent fixture on your face. In these shared experiences, he finds joy in your happiness, and that’s enough to make every dizzying spin and heart-pounding drop worth it.

Your enjoyment becomes his pleasure, and the way you radiate pure delight is an enchanting sight. It’s a reminder of the simple yet profound connection you share, one that doesn’t rely on grand gestures or elaborate adventures. 

For both of you, these small moments spent together are the true thrill, and the love that blossoms in these shared experiences is more exhilarating than any roller coaster ride.

In that moment, as the world spun around you, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having someone like Yoongi by your side. His willingness to step out of his comfort zone and embrace the joy of the moment, all for the sake of your happiness, touched you deeply.

You pulled him into more rides, your fingers laced together, creating a connection that transcended the dizzying whirl of lights and motion around you. It was a physical representation of the bond you shared—strong, unbreakable, and capable of weathering any twist or turn life might throw your way.

As the night continued, Yoongi’s gummy smile remained a constant source of warmth and reassurance. It was a silent promise that he would always be there, ready to share in your excitement, no matter how dizzy or disoriented it might make him feel. In this moment, beneath the vibrant carnival lights and amidst the laughter and thrills, you couldn’t help but wish for time to stand still. 

You wanted to savor every second of this shared experience, basking in the undeniable spark that had blossomed between you and Yoongi. It was a night you didn’t want to end, a night that held the promise of many more adventures together.

→ Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think;  your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 → Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts, @constancelayon, @wobblewobble822, @ktownshizzle, @moonchild1, @ultimatefangirl0, @baechugff, @jimintaemin, @parapiop7, @fckkntired, @iluvfndms, @citypop-princess, @tarahardcore, @bergandysam, @massivelyfullenthusiast *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :(

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

[jungkwok]

part of your world | myg fluff | bts disney series

jungkook | taehyung | jimin | namjoon | hoseok | yoongi | jin

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

pairings: yoongi x reader

tags: fluff duh, prince!yoongi x reader, based off plot of 'The Little Mermaid'

word count: 491 words

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the beach where you, Y/N, strolled hand in hand with Yoongi, the prince who had captured your heart. The gentle lull of the waves provided a soothing backdrop as you walked along the shore, the sand cool beneath your feet.

Lost in the magic of the night, you found yourself gazing out at the vast expanse of the sea, a melancholic expression crossing your face. Yoongi noticed your wistful demeanour and gently squeezed your hand.

"What's on your mind, Y/N?" he inquired, concern lacing his voice.

You sighed, your gaze lingering on the horizon. "I miss my family, Yoongi. The sea holds so many memories, and sometimes it makes my heart ache."

Yoongi pulled you into a comforting embrace, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. "I may not fully understand your world, but I'm here for you, Y/N. Let's make new memories together."

In an attempt to lift your spirits, Yoongi began to hum a cheerful tune. The beach became your dance floor as Yoongi, with a charmingly clumsy elegance, twirled you around, the sand beneath your feet serving as a natural stage.

The laughter bubbled up from deep within you as Yoongi's carefree spirit infected you. The night seemed to come alive with the joy of the impromptu dance, and for a moment, you forgot the ache in your heart. Yoongi's eyes sparkled with happiness as he spun you under the moonlit sky.

As the dance came to an end, you turned to face the sea, a smile playing on your lips. But to your surprise, a dazzling seashell lay in the sand, catching the moonlight like a precious gem. You picked it up, marvelling at its beauty.

Upon closer inspection, you discovered a delicate sketch etched onto the shell's surface. It depicted Yoongi and you dancing under the moonlight, capturing the essence of the magical moment. Your heart swelled with emotion, realising that it was a gift from your parents in the sea.

"Yoongi, look at this," you whispered, holding the seashell up for him to see.

His eyes widened in amazement as he took in the intricate sketch. "It's beautiful. Your parents must have sent it as a reminder of the love we share."

Touched by the romantic gesture, you held the seashell close to your heart. "Even though I'm far from home, they're still a part of our journey, Yoongi. This is a treasure that will forever bind us together."

Yoongi nodded, his gaze filled with an unspoken promise. "No matter where our journey takes us, Y/N, I'll always be by your side, creating new memories and dancing under the moonlit sky."

As you leaned into each other, the sea whispered its approval, and the night embraced you in the warmth of love that transcended worlds – a love that was as eternal as the tides that kissed the shore.

[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately (m) #6 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #6 - introspection pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: the end of the fall semester leaves you overwhelmed and overstimulated: final exams, presentations, and now, your friends with benefits deal with yoongi AND jimin. when you head back to your hometown for the holidays, you can't seem to stop thinking about your feelings towards your best friends and how you're going to approach this challenge in the new year. and apparently, you're not the only one going through this. warnings:  smut, spicy time in the library study room, fingering, final exam presentation because this is a college AU, toys... not for kids, y/n past relationship mentions, swearing, NAMJOON POV, more angst because they're confused college kids, y/n being in her head a lot and reflecting, very small timeskips for plot note: everyone say thank you to @daegudrama for editing this chapter! total word count: 9.6k drop date: January 9th, 2024, 12:30PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #5 | Series Masterlist | #7

The deal is sealed with a kiss on November 16, 20XX, an unexpected turn in your relationship with Yoongi and Jimin. As the 0309x1013 group chat was created, signaling the beginning of this uncharted journey, everyone agreed to take things slow, fully aware of the potential risks involved.

With Thanksgiving approaching, the university granted a break for the following week. Instead of heading home, you all decide to have a Friendsgiving together at the house, creating a memorable celebration. The backyard is transformed into a makeshift KBBQ haven, complete with the tantalizing aroma of grilled meats wafting through the air. In an unexpected fusion of cultures, you and Jungkook insist on having pumpkin pie for dessert.

This alternative celebration with friends spares you from the potential awkwardness of interrogations from your relatives about college life and romance. And there is no way in hell you can ever bring up your friends with benefits deal to them. You will be branded as the weird and psychotic child in the family. They may as well burn you at stake.

With more time on your hands, the week break lets you seize moments of solitude with Yoongi and Jimin, stolen kisses and playful slaps on the ass becoming commonplace. Jimin seems to enjoy the latter more, and in a surprising turn of events, Yoongi decides to adopt that habit too.

As schedules align for once, you all indulge in a Friday Night Game Night. The living room transforms for Cards Against Humanity, with soju bottles and beer adding to the spirited atmosphere. Namjoon, however, appears a bit distant, engrossed in his phone. A pang of guilt flutters in your chest, realizing he remains the only best friend unaware of the recent developments. Before you can think too deeply about it, the raucous laughter of the others brings you back to the game.

+++++++++

November 29th [THURSDAY]

The subsequent week marks dead week, a period of intense preparation for impending exams. Your focus turns to Finance, Stats, and Psych, subjects you can’t afford to fail. You were already struggling a bit a few weeks ago as you didn’t do well on your Finance midterm. So you need to get your shit together. Determined to get your academic affairs in order, you book a study room in the library, reaching out to the BTS group chat for potential study buddies. Everyone seems occupied elsewhere, except Yoongi.

Amid the hushed atmosphere of the study room, Yoongi arrives and sits next to you, bearing the weight of textbooks from his Psych classes and the impending stress of exams. The initial exchange of nods and silent acknowledgments is replaced by the persistent rustling of papers and whispering discussions on complex subjects.

As the study session progresses, the tension in the room seems to escalate. Yoongi, sensing the collective stress coming from you reading a question over and over, decides it's time for a much-needed break.

Yoongi lets out a sigh, pushing his chair back slightly. "I need a break, Angel." he admits, rubbing his temples as if trying to physically massage the stress away.

You nod in agreement, closing your textbook with a thud. "Yeah, we should take a break. I think my brain needs a reset."

Yoongi leans in, his voice low and suggestive, "Should we do something to relieve stress?"

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity. "Uh, what do you have in mind?"

You’re going to regret asking this.

A sly smile plays on Yoongi's lips as he brings up a topic that has been lingering unaddressed, "You know, you never really got your punishment for spending time with Jimin. I think it's high time we settle that."

“W-What do you mean?”

Yoongi places his hand on your knee under the table, slowly moving it and placing it in your inner thigh, nearing your heat. You gasp quietly, surprised and excited by his boldness.

“I’ll show you,” he says, looking down at you. You really decided to wear a skirt on the worst day.

You swallow hard, a lump forming in your throat. You're not sure if you're ready for this, but your body betrays you, betraying your nervousness and hesitance. He doesn't say anything else, just looks at you expectantly, waiting for your response.

Finally, you nod, the words coming out in a whispery breath, "Okay, b-but we're in a study room…what if someone sees?!"

Yoongi chuckles, "The door and windows outside this room are frosted glass, they will see people in here but won't know what they're doing." He moves his hand under your skirt, slides your panties off to the side and starts circling your bud.

His fingers dance back and forth, sending shivers down your spine. You moan softly, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. He then reaches down and gently pushes one finger inside you, stretching you open. The sensation is incredible, and you can't help but arch your back, begging for more. It’s been too long without the fullness of his fingers inside you.

His digits move inside faster, and you try to cover your mouth before getting louder, fearing people outside will know what you're doing. It's almost like you can hear their whispers, taste your own fear that someone might catch you. But, Yoongi's eyes are locked onto you, and he knows exactly what he's doing. He leans in and kisses you, his tongue darting out to taste you, his lips demanding more than just a taste. Your body is on fire now, your heart races, and your breath hitches at every touch, every thrust. He pulls you close, his body pressing against yours, and you can't help but grind against his hands, seeking more of him.

It's then that you lose yourself, your body convulsing and trembling under his touch. Yoongi lets out an intense groan, in reaction to her squirming delight from his digits reaching the right spots.

You collapse back onto the chair, panting and sweating. Yoongi pulls your panties back in place and he opens your text book, reading the question .

“Mary has obtained a $10,000 loan to buy a used car. She is considering 12, 24, and 48-month loans, all of which carry an annual interest rate of 6%. Which of the following statements is true?” Yoongi reads, glancing at you for an answer.

“I hate you so much.” You scoff, covering your flushed face. You can’t believe he really went from fingering you and back to studying, well, helping you study now like it’s nothing. “And the answer is ‘A longer loan period means she will pay more total interest’!”

Yoongi's low chuckle ripples through the room, a mixture of amusement and a hint of satisfaction. He leans back, a playful glint in his eyes as he takes in your blushing and slightly disheveled appearance. The aftermath of a brief interlude from studying seems to have lightened the mood, and he can't help but revel in his revenge move.

"Post-nut clarity does wonders, doesn't it, angel?" he teases, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The humor in his tone lingers, adds an extra layer of playfulness to the moment. "Glad I could assist."

“Please, shut up!”

Yoongi's low chuckle fills the room again as he leans back in his chair, still basking in the aftermath of the unconventional study break. "You know, I'm just trying to make sure you remember the material. Practical application, right?"

Rolling your eyes, you reach for your water bottle, taking a long sip to cool down the lingering warmth on your face. "Practical application, my ass. You just wanted an excuse to finally get back at me.”

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" He smirks, closing the textbook with a decisive snap. "Now, back to studying for your Finance final."

“You’re unbelievable, Min Yoongi.” You groan dramatically, but you can't deny that maybe this helped you destress.

+++++++++++++++

DECEMBER 4TH [TUESDAY]

The week swiftly transitions into finals, marked by a cascade of exams and the pressure building up for the impending challenges. The first two days witness you navigating through three exams, managing to hold your own despite the weight of academic stress.

Amidst the stress, Jin's birthday slipped your mind. The oversight dawns on you during the marketing group project presentation run-through. The team, a makeshift family made during this semester, surprises Jin with a chocolate lunchbox cake adorned with a Mario frosting doodle. Thank God someone else remembered. The makeshift Mario-themed cake adds a touch of joy to the moment, catching Jin off guard.

"Hyejin, I really thought that box was just extra food from the dining hall." Jin chuckles as he is about to take a bite of the cake. Hwasa playfully kicks him in the butt, laughter echoing in the room. Amid the small birthday celebration, the impending final marketing presentation remains a looming challenge.

The team urges you to lead the presentation, praising your storytelling skills that you tend to downplay. Jimin and Jin offer words of encouragement, reassuring you that your ability to make things work out will shine through once again. As you contemplate the final tomorrow, you hope things will go well. For now, the celebratory atmosphere provides a momentary reprieve before the final academic hurdle of the semester.

+++++++++++++++

DECEMBER 5TH [WEDNESDAY]

The following day arrives, and you find yourself standing in the seminar classroom, ready to deliver your In-N-Out marketing presentation. Unlike the typical lecture hall, the business school's seminar classrooms mimic real-world business meetings, focusing attention on the speaker.

Dressed in a crisp white collared blouse paired with a sleek black pencil skirt, you exude professionalism. The subtle hum of the pantyhose beneath your attire and the comfort of loafers complete the polished look, projecting confidence and sophistication as you prepare to engage your audience. The rest of your team members are dressed in similar fashion, with black slacks and white collared shirts. Jimin, Jin, and Matthew sport black ties as well.

You begin the presentation with a captivating introduction: "Ladies and gentlemen, today, we're delving into the world of In-N-Out – not just a fast-food chain, but a West Coast staple and a testament to effective marketing. Let's talk about why people don't just eat at In-N-Out; they love it, and we're about to uncover the secrets behind their success."

As you, Hwasa, Matthew, Jin and Jimin weave through the details of In-N-Out's marketing strategy, emphasizing its family-oriented approach and the cult-like following it has garnered, the room becomes animated with engaged reactions from your peers. The dialogue is punctuated with anecdotes about the brand's iconic status, creating an atmosphere of hunger and nostalgia.

The end of your presentation is met with applause and excitement. To add to the celebration, Matthew surprises the class with several boxes of In-N-Out animal style fries. That was his idea to entice the audience and the judge, Professor Kim. The gesture not only elevates the experience but also earns cheers from your hungry classmates, turning the presentation into a shared moment of enjoyment. Even your professor can't help but express pride in the engaging and delicious conclusion to your marketing showcase.

As the final comes to an end, your team members shower you with congratulations for delivering an exceptional presentation, with special praise for your captivating introduction and conclusion. Professor Kim approaches your team, a smile on her face, to deliver the good news. She informs you that you all received an A on the final project. Although she hasn't graded the paper portion yet, the impressive effort you put into the project leads her to believe it's bound to be another automatic A.

Walking back home with Jimin, you think about how the success of the presentation and the positive feedback from your professor lifts your spirits.

“Honey, I actually ended up getting you something for working hard throughout the semester on this project. Consider it an early christmas gift too?” Jimin speaks as his hand is shuffling inside his pocket to find the keys to the front door.

Jimin got you a present? You thought it was a little odd, but not completely unlike him to do something like that. He’s always been kind, and while his love language is clearly physical touch, gift giving ties with words of affirmation as a second.

“A gift? You shouldn’t have, Jiminie. Like, really!” You insisted your best friend, walking in once he opens the door.

“It’s nothing! It’s up in my room. I’ll come right over to your room once i grab it.”

You nod, heading upstairs to your room right next to Jimin’s. You don’t know why, but when someone suddenly says they get you something, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. What could he have possibly gotten that he insists on giving it to you before Christmas. Maybe it’s food? There is a bakery off campus that has special made-to-order seasonal pies. You remember going with Jimin and Taehyung to get a pumpkin cream pie there last year, but you were too busy this semester to have time to order one.

Well…

You’re not too far from that guess. Actually you were very far off from any potential thought of what this man could have gifted you, but when Jimin enters your room holding a relatively small black box, you know for a fact that this is not food.

“Here,” Jimin hands you the box, which feels slightly heavy. “Open it.”

Jimin’s eyes and lips turn into crescent moons as he sits on the bed next to you. Oh this can’t be good. You give him a weird glance before going ahead and opening the black box.

What you find in there, makes you yelp and you drop the box which causes the object in it to plop out onto the floor.

“Jimin, what the fuck!”

Suppressing his giggles, Jimin maintains a hushed tone to avoid drawing attention to the two of you in your room. You hope to God that no one else is in this house right now, but given what has happened previously, there’s always one other person somewhere.

"You got me a sex toy… Why would you buy this?!" you whisper with a blend of surprise and agitation, not quite sure what to make of the unexpected gift. You never expected Jimin to get you something like this. And if this were any other situation, you’d probably laugh, but all you can do is look at Jimin with a mortified expression.

Jimin, unable to suppress his laughter any longer, bursts into a fit of giggles. He quickly places a hand over his mouth, attempting to stifle the noise. You, on the other hand, are still grappling with the absurdity of the situation as you stare at the rose-shaped adult toy lying innocently on the floor.

"I thought you could use a little stress relief," Jimin finally manages to say between laughs. "And we did talk about experimentation before, so I wanted to try this on you. I kept seeing people talk online about it so i wanna use it on you."

His words make your face blush red rapidly. You pick up the toy, and now closely examining it to see that it is indeed one of those rose-shaped clit sucking sex toys that have been trending online, however this one comes attached to a vibrating dildo at the bottom of the rose.

You can’t believe he got you a fucking vibrating clit sucking toy and dildo.

This isn’t a pumpkin cream pie you were hoping for, but this could be involved in other cream pies.

And he’s right. You were keen on the idea of experimenting new things involving sex, and while other things like bdsm crossed your mind first, using sex toys wasn’t really a thought at all. You hadn’t done too much with the two men, but you’ve been pretty satisfied giving or receiving oral or an occasional quickie.

“Hey, hey, darling. I thought we could try it, but if you’re not comfortable with this, we don’t have to do it.” he speaks up before you can speak out your own thoughts. But you really don’t know what else to say besides ‘what the fuck’. You’re so shocked that you can’t even react or talk properly.

“We? You want us to try this?” you ask slowly, looking back at your best friend that gives you a short nod. He wants to try this himself?! Or did he mean use it on you?

“I mean you can try it when you’re alone, it’s totally up to you.”

“What? No! ” you shake your head.

“I just want to help make you feel good. You’re already doing so much being with Yoongi hyung and I. Sex with you feels so amazing, and I don’t know if you feel the same, so I thought this would help emphasize those feelings.”

Sex with Jimin feels so liberating, so sensual. It is definitely a contrast from fucking Yoongi, which makes you feel secure and comfort. Fuck, Y/N. If you’re doing this deal to figure out your feelings, it’s not going to be easy. You care about both of them equally. You can’t fathom being without either of them in your life.

“Is this something you want to try?” you ask him curiously, and you see him relax when he notices your interest and that you’re no longer overthinking his present.

“If you want to,” he answers seriously, which causes you to glare at him. “We can just try the roses’ function to start and then the dildo depending how you feel?”

The thought of him using this toy piques your curiosity and brings a tinge of excitement. It's new territory for you. You've only been with a total of 4 people in your life. And you’ve never had the balls to buy something like this, not even when you wanted to pleasure yourself. Your fingers could do only so little inside you and flicking the bean, that you often ended up more frustrated with no orgasm.

“Okay, let’s try it.” You walk towards your door, locking it, and turning back to sit on your bed. “Also, when did you even buy this?”

Jimin chuckles, taking your hand as he laces his fingers with your own. “I had passed a sex shop the other day I went out to buy something else. So I got it, hid it in my room, and waited. It wasn’t easy.” he answers, watching you as you grab the vibrator again with your free hand and examine the object.

“With this much functionality, it looks expensive?”

“Oh trust me, it was. I got it in pastel pink because it’s cute just like your pussy.” He pouts, making you reflexively hit him in the arm. “I’d get anything for you, my love.”

Oh fuck, your heart is beating fast.

“Jimin, you joke a lot, but don’t say stuff like that.” You murmur, avoiding his eyes while looking at the sex toy.

“But why not? It’s true!” He tells you honestly, placing a kiss on your cheek, making you sigh at the feeling.

But what’s true? That he genuinely means you’re his love or that he’ll get you anything?

Things like this mess with your head. It makes you think things like him actually being in love with you is a possibility. But he wouldn’t fall for you. You know how Jimin has always been. Hopping from one person to another. You’re not entirely sure what feelings he has to sort out for him to be involved in this deal, but maybe the casual sex with his best friend is a temporary bliss for him to indulge in pleasure. But there is a part of you that does think otherwise.

The way he carries himself when he’s around you is much different than how he is with other girls, even previously with Irene. He’s truly himself, constantly showering you with love and physical affection even when others are looking, making you wish he could freely kiss you and fuck you senselessly. You wonder if he realizes this contrast as well. Though for him, these actions might just come natural when he’s around you. He has known you for almost a decade. Other people really don’t bat an eye at that like at the halloween party. And when you return that energy back at him, what does that really say about how you feel about Jimin?

Is this love?

Maybe the excessive release of sex hormones are getting to your head. You should just focus on indulging in the pleasure and go all out while you’re still in college. It’ll probably end sooner or later. As it should. Maybe Jimin and Yoongi should find someone else that isn’t as indecisive as you.

“Let’s try it.” you speak up, slowly handing out the toy to Jimin as his eyes widen in shock.

“Right now? Really? You looked kinda scared earlier.” he asks, eyes filled with worry but also a hidden excitement behind them.

“I did look scared, didn’t I?,” You laugh, “But I want to try this. Gotta live it up while I still can.” You assure him, giving him a slight smile he returns.

Giving you a little nod, he leans in next to you, reaching your lips for a kiss. He gives a few pecks to them, before he stands up and hovers over you. Reaching for his white collared shirt and clutching it in a fist, you pull him towards you which surprises him and causes him to stumble back.

He pins you down with his darkened eyes meanwhile a satisfied grin appears on his plump lips as your back meets the mattress. When his lips press against your jaw, neck and slowly move at the top of your blouse-covered breasts, you feel yourself arching from the bed in a desperate need to feel him more and closer. While his lips are preoccupied with your exposed skin that is available to his mouth, Jimin’s hands are too busy gripping your hips, ass.

He leans down, pulling off your pantyhose, your pencil skirt, and then your white lace panties. The sight of your bare pussy never ceases to amaze him.

“You looked hot in your professional business lady outfit, but I like seeing you without anything on.”

You giggle at his silly remark. Typical horny college student.

He presses the rose toy against your sensitive clit, and you shiver at the contact. He turns it on, the first setting of soft vibrations already sending shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your breath starts to quicken as Jimin presses on to modes of vibrations, intensifying the feeling inside you. You close your eyes, feeling light-headed from the pleasure and anticipation. Meanwhile, Jimin's free hand continue to roam, exploring every inch of your body. He somehow manages to unbutton your white blouse with one hand and then pushes up your lilac floral bra to get a view of your breasts. He massages them gently, pinching your nipples up between his fingers.

As the vibrations reach a higher pitch, you can feel your body becoming more and more aroused. You’re worried that it sounds too loud, but before you can ponder it more, you moan softly, unable to resist the pleasure that's building inside you.

“F-Fuck…”

Jimin grins wickedly, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. "Feeling good, Y/N?"

You nod, unable to form words. Your body is now a mass of need, every muscle tensing and releasing in waves of pleasure.

With that, the vibration gets more intense and faster, your clit throbbing almost painfully while Jimin starts rubbing the rose at your most sensitive spot. This feeling is different – you’ve never felt this kind of pleasure before. You suddenly understand Jimin's eagerness to try something new and trying sex toys was something you never thought you'd experience. He’s truthful to his words, wanting to help you feel pleasure through different ways.

The new pleasant feeling makes your whole body shiver, or maybe it’s Jimin's dark lustful eyes hovering over with dark hair falling onto his face, or it’s a simple combination of both that takes you over the edge before you can even realize it. With another rub and skilful twist of his wrist, you’re instantly cumming undone just from the set of vibration. Legs shakingly in the air from the intensity, liquid squirting out which you never thought your body could do.

Holy shit.

Jimin rides you through it, slowing down the vibration until he fully turns it off when you're left breathless.

"How was it?" he smirks, watching your chest rise and fall as you catch your breath, waiting for you to glance back at him. “I can’t believe that made you squirt, has that ever happened to you before?”

"You're fucking crazy…” The residual tingles linger, and a sly grin crosses your face as you appreciate the Jimin’s spontaneity. “I’ve never actually squirted in my life so I guess it was that good then?”

“Really? Never?” Jimin asks, feeling prideful for being the first one to get you to squirt. “God, I wish I could brag about this.”

“Yeah, but would you please help me clean up because we yet again ruined another set of sheets.” You giggle as you get up from the wet spot, feeling cold, sticky and in need of a shower. Jimin, already an experienced cleaner, goes to grab extra bedding from your closet.

You somehow manage to survive the semester. Barely.

+++++++++++++++++++

December 8th [SATURDAY]

On Saturday, the whole house is buzzing with activity as everyone packs their luggage or duffle bags to head back home for the holidays after finals. Since all of you are from the same hometown, you've decided to carpool in the only two vehicles you have available: Jin's car, carrying Taehyung, Jungkook, and Hoseok, and Jimin's car, with you, Namjoon, and Yoongi.

As Jimin pulls up to your street, a sense of nostalgia washes over you. The familiar houses, the tree-lined streets, and the cozy neighborhood covered in Christmas decor evoke nostalgic memories. At the end of the cul-de-sac, are two houses where you and Namjoon live. Jimin and Yoongi drop you both off, bidding you goodbye for the time being.

“You won’t get rid off us for long,” Yoongi chuckles as he moves to sit on the front passenger seat, which you previously sat on. You get car sick if you’re in the back.

“Yeah, you two will see us around! Probably one more than the other.” Jimin winks at you, knowing that these words are definitely targeted at you. Namjoon has no idea of the meaning behind the words. Though you don’t know if you end up having any rendezvous with them during the break. Too risky.

“Okay, okay! You two better get home before your moms decide to call me worried about your whereabouts.” You shoo them away. “Don’t forget to text me about whatever you decide to do during break.”

“We will,” Yoongi waves to the both of you as Jimin turns the car around the cul-de-sac to leave, Namjoon and you watch as Jimin's car drives away until it disappears around the corner. The air is crisp, and the quietness of the suburban streets contrasts with the bustling holiday season. Namjoon turns to look at you, with a smile, “Well I’ll be sure to come over one of these days to hang out and send my greetings to your parents.”

You giggle at his politeness, “I know you just want to come over and eat the Christmas treats my mom is going to whip up, so yes, you’re to come over Joonie.”

The two of you share a slightly awkward silence before Namjoon breaks it with a warm hug. There's something about him embracing you in public that leaves you feeling flustered. This isn’t the first time that it has happened, but you can't help but notice the subtle reddening of your cheeks. As he pulls away, you hope he doesn't catch on, but he seems more focused on grabbing his luggage from the ground. With a quick "bye," he leaves you standing there, slightly dumbfounded.

What was that?

You shake your head, deciding to give yourself more time to think about it once you’re settled back in your room.

You approach your front door and knock. The familiar scent of home envelops you as your sister swings it open, excitement evident in her words as she wraps you in a tight hug. Stepping aside, she ushers you into the house. Your parents are at work, and won't be back until evening. Despite the months that have passed since you were last home, returning after a college break always feels a bit strange. The absence of the usual ruckus created by the other guys intensifies the void of loneliness.

In your room, you sit and stare at your phone, mindlessly scrolling through TikToks and other apps for hours. Eventually, you decide to lock your phone and gaze up at the ceiling, contemplating the different atmosphere and reflection of the fall semester in the quiet surroundings of your family home.

This is too much alone time to overthink.

It's also the first moment of peace you've had. It suddenly hits you — you're entangled with two out of your three best friends. It feels insane, and a month into this arrangement, your emotions remain tangled and unsorted. What the fuck are you going to do? There’s no game plan to this and it kind of scares you. There's also a particular aspect you've been avoiding, a name that lingers in your conscience: Namjoon.

You do feel guilt over doing this behind Namjoon's back. And a part of you hurts doing this too. It doesn’t feel right. He doesn’t deserve that either.

Now with Jimin joining this thing that you have with Yoongi, you wonder if Namjoon would be willing to do that too. You're aware that he's no longer with Jihyo, but whether he's involved with someone else, you're uncertain. The image of him on his phone during the card game flashes in your mind, but amid the chaos, you've been preoccupied with managing your own emotions and keeping everything under wraps.

No. Namjoon, the most logic-driven member in your quad and whole Beta Tau Sigma house would never. That’s like crazy. What kind of sane person is friends with benefits with three people at the same time? You can barely handle two people, let alone three. And as you had already thought before, what will the end result be? You only end up with one of them. And what about the other two?

Things would be easier if you could all be in a polyamorous relationship.

That’s only a dream though. No way that could happen when society is still iffy when it comes to sam sex relationships.

But not having Namjoon in the mix feels like you can’t properly settle things.

You don’t think Namjoon has those types of feelings or thoughts of you because he’s known you the longest. He's been there from the beginning, witnessing your growth and sharing a bond that transcends mere friendship. Family. In his eyes, you're more like a little sister, a connection resembling the one he has with his actual sibling, Kyeongmin, navigating her freshman year at a different college.

Your phone pinged unexpectedly, prompting you to check the 0309x1013 group chat.

Yoongi [4:21 PM]: Can we change the gc name to something else?

You decide to reply.

You [4:21 PM]: All of a sudden?

Yoongi [4:22 PM]: It’s too sus.

Yoongi [4:22 PM]: My brother was getting ideas when he saw my phone light up.

Yoongi [4:22 PM]: He said he saw a dating scandal break out with a group chat named with dates in Korea.

Jimin [4:23 PM]: LMAO

Jimin [4:23 PM]: I got an idea for a new name just now.

[[Jimin changed the GC name to ‘The Sanctuary’]]

Yoongi [4:25 PM]: The Sanctuary?

Jimin [4:26 PM]: It’s a SONG I really like right now.

Jimin [4:26 PM]: I think this name fits the purpose of this gc really well.

You [4:27 PM]: I like it c;

You [4:27 PM]: You guys are my sanctuary c:

Yoongi [4:29 PM]: …

Jimin [4:30 PM]: LOL not hyung being flustered. Jimin [4:30 PM]: this is too funny!! i never see him like this Yoongi [4:32 PM]: Aye....

Yoongi [4:32 PM]: She needs to stop..

Yoongi [4:32 PM]: you're being too cute honey! >:3

You find it adorable when Yoongi gets flustered, which doesn’t happen too often. You’re glad you have these two around, as close as you could possibly have them all to yourself. Is this selfish? Well isn't that what love is about? To be a bit selfish in wanting those you care about close to you? Shaking off those contemplative thoughts, you focus on the playful banter within the group chat.

++++++++++

December 10th [Monday]

On Monday morning, a text from Kyeongmin brightens your day. The invitation to join their family for some homemade kimchi is too tempting to resist. You slip out of your pajamas, opting for flared jeans and a cozy turtleneck, then head next door.

Kyeongmin greets you with a warm hug, exclaiming, "Unnie! It's been a while! How have you been?" She gestures for you to come inside, and you gladly accept.

"I've been good! It's been an eventful semester, to say the least," you reply. As you step in, Namjoon's mom, Mrs. Kim, peeks out from the kitchen.

"Namjoon hasn't been giving you a hard time, has he?" she teases. You smile at her, appreciating the familiarity of the Kim family home.

"Hi, Mrs. Kim! At the start, I would say he was, but he's been good. How are you doing?" you ask, approaching her.

"I'm doing good, sweetheart. I'm glad Joonie has been a good sport," she replies. Mrs. Kim hands you chopsticks with a piece of kimchi, urging you to eat. You gladly oblige, savoring the familiar taste.

"Thank you! Luckily, Yoongi and Seokjin were in charge of cooking, so we were able to eat well," you share.

"Is Oppa still a terrible cook?" Kyeongmin snickers as she chewed a mouthful of food.

"Haha, actually, he's been improving, thanks to Yoongi. He can make really good carbonara now," you giggle as you praise Namjoon, who coincidentally enters the dining room and takes a seat.

"Oh, Y/N, you're here!" he exclaims in a sleepy voice. Dressed in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, he seems to have just woken up.

"Did you really just wake up?" you tease.

"Yeah, because I was resting. The whole point of the break, Honey,"

"I like to be more productive with my breaks, Joonie," you smirk, earning an eye roll from Namjoon.

Mrs. Kim ushers you to join Namjoon at the table, setting up an array of banchan in front of both of you before placing bowls of Doenjang-jjigae as well.

"So, what's the move for today?" you ask.

"I had plans to go meet up with someone," Namjoon replies.

"Someone?" you inquire.

"Was it that girl you were on the phone with last night?" Kyeongmin adds, and Namjoon chokes on his kimchi.

"Kyeong!"

You can't help but wonder if your suspicions about Namjoon seeing someone are accurate.

"What? There's no reason for you to be hiding that from Y/N. She's your best friend, after all," Kyeongmin remarks. Her words strike a chord in your heart.

"I'm not seeing anyone, Kyeong. Y/N would be the first to know if I was, right, Y/N?" Namjoon looks at you.

You hum, "Mm, I don't know, Namjoon. You didn't tell me about you and Jihyo until October." Namjoon’s eyes widen at the mention of his technically ex-girlfriend in front of his sister. His mom is too occupied looking for something in the pantry to hear.

"Oh my God, you had a girlfriend?!" Kyeongmin gasps.

"Well…" Namjoon clears his throat, "We ended things before we made it official."

"Why?" Kyeongmin looks at both of you, hoping for an explanation.

"It's complicated," he vaguely replies, and the topic is dropped. The room falls into a brief silence as you all continue to eat.

"Y/N, are you seeing someone?" Mrs. Kim asks as she enters the dining room with more kimchi.

"N-No," you stammer, catching Namjoon's eyes. "I've been focused on my studies too much to look for love."

"Oh, you're such a studious girl," she praises, patting your back. "I was thinking of setting you up with my friend's son. His name is Lee Dongmin. He goes to a lovely private university down south. You'd love him!"

"Mom," Namjoon warns, a certain look in his eyes.

Trying to lighten the situation, you giggle, "Thank you, Mrs. Kim. I'll think about it and let you know."

After finishing your meal, washing the dishes, and bidding farewell to the Kim family, you return home. As Mrs. Kim closes the door, Namjoon heads back to his room, avoiding eye contact.

"I see you still get jealous," his mom observes, aware of the feelings Namjoon harbors for you.

He shakes his head, "I don't think it would be a good idea."

"Why do you say that?"

"I just know that Yoongi and Jimin probably feel the same way. Maybe even more guys at school feel the same way too. I don't know how I compare to them," he admits, leaving his mother sighing in the living room over her son's reluctance to express his feelings.

++++++++++++++++

December 12th [Wednesday]

It's around noon on December 12th, a Wednesday, when Namjoon decides to surprise you with an unannounced visit. He has a habit of dropping by unexpectedly, assuming you wouldn't have any weekday plans during winter break. However, today, he's in for a surprise himself.

Expecting to find you in your usual winter break attire – Christmas green and blue plaid pajama pants and a band t-shirt – he's taken aback. Your eyes light up at the sight of him, clearly not anticipating his presence. Namjoon sneaks a glance at your outfit, a grey roll neck knit sweater dress paired with thigh-high black felt boots. He quickly shifts his gaze back to your face, hoping you didn't catch him checking you out. Are you actually dressed to go out?

"O-Oh hey, Joon! What's up?" you greet him.

"Hey, uh, I came over to hang out with you, but I see you have plans?"

"Oh, um," you look down at your well-put-together outfit, a bit embarrassed he caught you dressed up, "I had plans to hang out with Yoongi, actually, but something came up, so now I'm dressed up to be at home."

Yoongi? Fuck. His mind briefly flits to bad thoughts of you two together, but he quickly dismisses it. We're all friends here. Yoongi wouldn't do that. Still, his insecurities have been getting the better of him lately.

"Yoongi?" Namjoon sounds more surprised than he intended.

"Yeah, we were going to go out shopping for Christmas gifts," you explain. Namjoon mentally sighs in relief. "But his mom is dragging him to help with some church fundraising event selling soondae soup."

Namjoon makes a mental note to thank Mrs. Min silently. This unexpected turn of events gives him the chance to hang out with you alone for the first time in forever.

"So what I'm hearing is that you're free?" he teases, leaning against the doorway and looking at you.

"Depends," you pucker your lips in thought, "What did you have in mind?"

Namjoon knows you're mostly a homebody, except for those spontaneous bursts of energy. He treads carefully with his suggestion, aware that one wrong move could lead you to decline his invitation. But there's one thing he's pretty sure you won't refuse.

"Want to get boba?"

"Boba?!" Bingo. Your eyes widen with excitement. "Is it from the place I'm thinking of?"

“Tea-cha!” You both exclaim in unison. Tea-cha is a familiar spot, closely located to the neighborhood where you both reside. It holds sentimental value, being the place you both frequented after school back in your high school. The boba might not be that great, but he knows the pure nostalgia makes you crave it whenever you're back home.

"Just like old times," Namjoon remarks, gazing deeply into your eyes. A dark, coffee like color that glistens stars made up of tiny sugar crystals. Always mesmerizing, he thinks to himself.

"Okay, but I'll drive!" you offer, grabbing the keys and your bag hanging on the hooks next to your door. "I can't believe you still don't have your license after all this time." You laugh, but he's always been apprehensive about the prospect of getting into an accident. With all his friends driving, he hasn't felt the urgent need to obtain a license.

"Shut up, tiny. I'll get it someday."

+++++++++++++++

You navigate your trusty black sedan while Namjoon occupies the passenger seat, engrossed in scrolling through his phone to peruse the menu.

Arriving at Tea-cha, he takes the initiative to place your order: strawberry green tea with honey boba, 25% sweetness, and light ice. He beams with pride about knowing your preferred drink, and you can't help but giggle at his enthusiasm. For himself, he opts for a roasted oolong milk tea with honey boba. As you reach for your card to settle the bill, he swiftly taps his own card on the machine.

Already using up gas and driving, covering the boba tab is the least he could do.

After securing your boba drinks, you decide to take a trip down memory lane and drive to your old high school.

Sitting in the empty student parking lot, Namjoon cues up his favorite playlist, guided by your impeccable taste in music. "Ride" by HYBS fills the car, creating a nostalgic atmosphere as you sip your drinks and gaze out at the familiar football field. The landscape around is serene, with birds gliding by and the leafless trees standing against the winter chill.

As the soft melodies of the playlist envelop the car, your conversation with Namjoon takes on a myriad of trivial topics. From discussing the latest quirky memes circulating on the internet to reminiscing about the absurdities of his high school years, the range of subjects is as diverse as your friendship.

At one point, you find yourselves debating the merits of various fast-food items, playfully arguing over the supremacy of McDonald's fries versus Burger King's onion rings. Namjoon can't help but chuckle at your passionate defense.

The conversation then shifts to your shared love for classic literature, with Namjoon excitedly recommending a new novel he recently discovered. You, in turn, share your fascination with a contemporary author you had just discovered during your break. Namjoon made a mental note to get you a book by them for Christmas.

The triviality of the topics is what makes these moments special to him, like exchanging anecdotes about your friends or laughing about the virginity race from high school.

You asked, curiosity evident in your eyes, "Speaking of people, who did you end up seeing on Monday?"

The question catches Namjoon off guard. He wasn’t trying to hide who he was going to go see, but also didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.

"Oh, uh, I met up with Soyoon," he carefully admits, the words carrying a sharp feeling as he voice them out.

"Soyoon? As in my coworker and friend, Hwang Soyoon?"

"Yeah," he responds, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. A fleeting thought crossed his mind— maybe that wasn’t a good idea. He mentally curses Kyeongmin for bringing it up on Monday and you hearing it.

"Shit," he mutters internally, realizing that this could imply that he likes Soyoon. He fidgeted, contemplating the consequences of his openness.

"Ah, didn't know she was your type," you remark casually, resuming the rhythmic sip of your drink. There it is. The one thing he knew you’d jump to conclude.

"I said I'm not seeing anyone," he protests, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "We're just talking." He tries to steer the conversation away from misconceptions, emphasizing his purely platonic interactions with Soyoon.

You, however, narrow your eyes, a gesture that did not escape Namjoon's notice. "About ART! She’s helping me with something." he clarifies.

"Okay, Joonie, whatever you say," you respond, your tone carrying a subtle playfulness.

The conversation takes an unforeseen turn when Namjoon, succumbing to an unspoken frustration, poses a question he instantly regrets.

"What about you? Dressing up all cute to hang out with Yoongi?" The words slipped out, revealing an undercurrent of bitterness at the perceived shift in your priorities.

A sharp pang lingers within him. You've been spending more time with Yoongi and Jimin, which is starting to create a growing distance visible in his eyes.

He still remembers when Yoongi called him out back at Jimin’s birthday for not knowing your favorite drink. He still remembers when he saw you dancing giddily across the room with Jimin at Matthew’s halloween party. He still remembers hearing you, Yoongi, and Jimin laughing and talking from inside your room before he went up to call you over to the living room. He feels like an outsider these days, observing you in the light as he stands in the darkness, feeling pathetic and alone.

"It’s just Yoongi, Namjoon," you sigh, your feet shifting nervously, "Why are you always so overprotective of me?"

Because I don’t want to lose you to someone else.

Because I am actually in love with you?

And the thought of you being with someone else pisses me the fuck off.

Those are phrases running through Namjoon’s mind as he struggles with this dilemma, but doesn’t have the guts to say to you or anyone for that matter. Didn’t Jihyo say to get his shit sorted out? He’s really fucking up by remaining complacent to his current lifestyle because he is scared of getting you hurt.

The honesty in your response strikes a chord in him, but his internal fights find expression as he admits, "I’m sorry. It’s just, there’s been a lot on my mind lately. I feel like I don’t really know you anymore."

You register Namjoon's words with a mix of surprise and concern, the air around you heavy with unspoken tension. It's a moment suspended in the confines of your car, and Namjoon feels the weight of his own admission.

"I mean, everything's changed since we got to college, and it's not just with relationships or whatever," Namjoon continues, his eyes drifting to the nostalgia-inducing surroundings of your high school parking lot. “And I just…I've noticed you acting differently, feeling distant from me and I don't know how to navigate that." Namjoon admits, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his voice. His gaze searches your face for a sign, a cue that would unravel the mystery behind your recent actions.

You remain quiet, your eyes reflecting a complexity that eludes him. He fears pushing too hard, sensing that any additional pressure might push you further away. The car feels heavy with internal thoughts, the music’s hum a backdrop to the charged atmosphere.

"I guess I've been feeling…alone," Namjoon continues, his fingers tracing an absent pattern on the boba cup. "And seeing you with Yoongi, Jimin, and everyone, it's like…like the pieces don't fit the way they used to."

Your eyes soften, registering the sincerity in his words. A sense of deja vu in his words from a similar feeling from nights ago that he doesn’t know. Yet, there's a hesitancy, a wall that has grown between you two, making Namjoon wonder if it's a chasm that can be bridged.

"I know it's not fair to expect things to stay the same. We're all changing, I get that," he confesses, the weight of unspoken sentiments settling in the space between you, "But it feels like I'm losing you."

The admission lingers in the air.

"I felt the same way, actually," you confess, the words breaking the heavy silence. “When you started to talking to Jihyo last year and then you two sleeping with each other, even when Jimin started to get more invested in his relationship with Irene… I was feeling so left out.”

Namjoon wasn’t aware you felt that way. He left you with Yoongi, because Yoongi was someone he trusted would protect you. He wasn’t sure if Yoongi liked you in a romantic sense, but then at some point, he became worried he could’ve changed his mind.

”But I had Yoongs with me, and while it was a rough few months, he was always there to save me from falling into a dark void.”

Namjoon remembers the first time you fell into that dark void. You had become close friends with Yeonjun during your senior year as you both competed to be in the top 10 of your graduating class. You then invited him as your date to Seokjung’s wedding to spite Namjoon who had brought a date himself. He didn’t think you two were seeing each other until he saw you two kiss in the garden outside the reception. For some reason, that sight tore his heartstrings and debunked his previous thoughts.

Then the day he had gone up to campus to help you move into the dorm was the day he decided to end things. He’s still not sure why. Though, Namjoon hated that fucker for deciding to do that right as you were starting your new life. Yoongi saw it happen and was the first to comfort you. Then him and Jimin rushed to your aid as they went to buy snacks to celebrate the move-in. Yeonjun was lucky he wasn’t going to the same college as you. Namjoon would’ve made his life a living hell until the kid dropped out or transferred.

”So please don’t feel that way Namjoon. You have me. You have Yoongi, Jimin, everyone in the house and even those not living there. You have Soyoon too.”

Soyoon. She was a nice girl, different from Jihyo and you. Against the norms and all for breaking boundaries in art. He relates to that. He could have fallen for her if his heart wasn’t deadset on you. It’s been that way for years and he didn’t want to keep running from you anymore. Soyoon was actually helping him find the chance to tell you.

Namjoon absorbs your words, his mind processing the layers of emotion and revelation that have unfolded in this unexpected conversation. The honesty you've shared lays bare the intricacies of your feelings, illuminating a side of your experience he hadn't fully comprehended.

"I appreciate you saying that, Y/N," Namjoon begins, his voice sincere. "I never realized the impact my actions had on you. I guess I was so caught up in my own struggles that I didn't see how it affected you."

Namjoon finds himself drawing closer to you, the subtle shift in his posture closing the physical distance between you two. He can feel the warmth radiating from your presence, a comfort that transcends words. In the quietude of shared history, he inches closer, his gaze locked onto your warm coffee eyes.

"You've always been my constant, Y/N," he murmurs, the sincerity in his voice threaded with vulnerability. "making me feel grounded when I become overwhelmed."

The words lingers in the small space between you, and as his eyes meet yours, there's an understanding. Namjoon's hand instinctively reaches up, fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch is tender, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection that has woven itself through the tapestry of your friendship.

A soft blush graces your cheeks, an involuntary reaction to the proximity that leaves Namjoon captivated by your charm. He finds your bashfulness endearing.

The air is charged with a different energy, one that goes beyond friendship and borders of emotions you can’t pinpoint. Yet, in this delicate dance of shared frustrations and questions, Namjoon chooses to tread carefully, aware that some feelings are better left unsaid for now. The car becomes a cocoon, shielding you both from the world outside, as the echoes of lost words reverberate in the uncharted space between friends.

"I think we should head back…" you say, breaking the subtle tension that had wrapped around you both. The vulnerability shared in this moment needs time to settle, and the familiar grounds of your past are safer than the uncharted territories you've inadvertently explored.

Namjoon nods, his hand gently retracting from its intimate proximity.

“Y-Yeah, definitely.” He stutters, which isn’t a common thing for him. You find that cute though.

The drive back to your neighborhood is filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by the occasional shared laughter about random memories of this town you lived in. The tension seems to dissipate gradually, replaced by the comforting familiarity that defines your friendship.

Once you arrive back at your place, Namjoon remains seated for a moment, his gaze fixed on the steering wheel. "Thanks for today," he says, his tone carrying a mix of gratitude and contemplation.

"It was nice, Joon," you reply, your eyes meeting his briefly. The sentiments still linger, like shadows dancing on the periphery, but for now, anything outside this boundary remain untouched.

++++++++++++++

December 25th [Tuesday]

The days leading up to Christmas are packed with plans, with you bustling through holiday preparations. You find yourself going out more than usual, whether it's Christmas gift shopping with Yoongi for the guys or joining the late birthday dinner for Jin at his favorite local Koreatown BBQ place. Amidst the festivities, you occasionally run into Namjoon, sharing dinners with Mrs. Kim or your own family. The Sanctuary group chat keeps you entertained during the quieter moments.

Despite the festive busyness, there are times when you find yourself alone, lost in your thoughts. The echo of Namjoon's words hangs in the air, a revelation that caught you off guard. As you navigate through the hustle and bustle of the season, you can't help but confront the questions swirling in your mind.

A childish part of you feels a strange satisfaction knowing that Namjoon experienced the same loneliness he unwittingly subjected you to earlier in the semester. Yet, there's a deeper, more somber emotion beneath the surface. Each sigh you let out seems to spawn more questions than answers. What are you even doing right now, playing with your own heart while sleeping with your own best friends? You feel like you’re wasting their time and feelings as well. Another thought lingers in your mind: What if, in the midst of all this, you realize you had feelings for Namjoon all along? What’s going to happen then?

"Y/N? Did you want some of the treats my dad made?" Jihyun's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you glance up to find Jimin's younger brother peering at you. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks; you forgot you're at Jimin's house for Christmas. Losing yourself in contemplation in public and getting caught feels mortifying. You realize you need to figure things out soon.

"Jihyun! Sorry, I was lost in thought," you apologize, the embarrassment evident in your voice. "I'll take the blueberry scone! Thank you." The younger boy smiles, handing you the pastry with a napkin. As he continues offering treats to others in the house, you marvel at the holiday spirit that envelopes Jimin's home.

The living room, adorned with twinkling lights and holiday decorations, seems to come alive with excitement. Plush cushions and throws add a cozy touch to the seating arrangement. Jimin's mom, still in the kitchen, contributes to the festive atmosphere with her cheerful hums and the clinking of utensils. The aroma of holiday spices wafts through the air, creating a comforting and welcoming environment. It's a perfect setting for friends to gather and celebrate the joyous season.

"So January 19, we’re going camping?" Taehyung words catch onto your radar in the midst of you looking around at the decor.

"Huh? What? Camping?" You blurt out in surprise, prompting a sigh from Taehyung. You need to stop spacing out.

"Yeah, camping. We’ve talked about this before!" Jungkook exclaims, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Taehyung wants us to go on a frat retreat."

"Oh, well, sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind before, so I didn’t know," you reply, your gaze shifting to Yoongi and Jimin, who exchange unreadable glances. They quickly look away when you catch them.

"It’s gonna be us, but if you want to invite your lady friends, you can." Jin comments, taking a sip of his spiced tea with a contented smile.

"Uh, sure, I can invite Hwasa, Jieun, Soohyun, and Soyoon—" You pause, a sudden awareness of Namjoon's secret rendezvous with Soyoon making you hesitate. Unsure if it's appropriate to invite her, you choose your words carefully.

It seems Namjoon has similar thoughts, and he responds, "That’s a fine group." Maybe he had already discussed it with her. The realization hits you: why are you only finding out about this camping trip now?

"Then it’s settled! We’re going camping!" Hoseok yelps in excitement, wrapping his arms around Tae and Jungkook. The room buzzes with energy, filled with the anticipation.

However you can't shake the worry gnawing at your thoughts.

As the evening unfolds, you contemplate the upcoming camping trip, wondering if it will provide answers or only deepen the complexities within your friend group.

tbc :O a/n: we've made it halfway through!!! YAY! we finally got namjoon's perspective in here. camping chapter is up next! that will be loosely based on an irl experience i had going on an MT TRIP with my club back in college!! smack down in the winter during those 3 day weekends we get in january/february. Anyone have any thoughts or theories? i'd love to heart about them so lmk hehehe thank you all for reading!

[bangtaninborderland]

MYG- Music To My Heart pt. 2

summary: you helped yoongi get past a musical block, he finally shows you the song but it was nothing like you’d expected.

part 1

It was exactly two weeks before the countdown for the song had begun, army going crazy over the teaser for the new single Dawn, yoongi had been in higher spirits ever since that night in the studio. He had even asked you to go yourself, calling your presence a blessing to his artistry.

The usual before a song release would be yoongi waiting around Hybe, either hidden in his studio or in the company of another member. Very rarely would he be home to watch a release unfold so you knew it must have been a special occasion when he stayed in the apartment with you, moving you both to the couch to join the countdown for the music video.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, nodding towards the timer on the flatscreen.

He continues to pet Holly who situated himself in between you both, paws tucked under the blanket covering your legs. “I don’t like to think too much about these things, this song is just one I particularly liked so I feel excited. It’s not like I can go back and change it.”

“You should be so proud of yourself, you worked hard for this and the fans will know that.” You shifted closer to him, hand reaching out to massage the base of his neck.

He leans into your touch, eyelids fluttering. “I’m nervous for you to see it.”

“Don’t be, did you forget I’m number one in min yoongis fan club.” You laugh lightly.

He shakes his head, not enough to disturb your soft moulding of his skin. “There’s a million people who would have different opinions.”

“Yeah, and Jungkook would be the first one in line to do that.” You sigh dramatically, causing you both to laugh.

The rapper shrugs his shoulders, smirking. “What can I say I’m an idol of idols.”

“Min Yoongi have you no shame or has it all disappeared because of the “big house, big car and big rings?”

He buried his face in his hands, flushing red with embarrassment as he laughs at the old lyrics. “Stop it.”

“Oh, it’s starting!” You shout excitedly, nudging him to face the screen. “I can’t believe you didn’t let me hear it before now.”

Regardless of your continuous badgering and occasional bribery, he wouldn’t let you hear the song, declaring you could only listen to it once the music video had been released. You’d given up after he locked you out of his studio for two days.

The soft melody began playing, the music video starts out in flashes of black white and grey. Your eyes are glued to the screen.

“Is that?” You noticed the soft humming tone he had made you record, playing over the sound of a piano.

“It’s you.” He responded, you didn’t question any further wanting to take in the entirety of the song.

The music video shows him travelling through some sort of timeline, images of the locations you’d met at and been on special dates to flickering in the background. The lyrics caused you to tear up, the words being more meaningful than anything you’d ever heard before.

“Oh, I'm runnin' round in a daze

We been walkin' so many ways

Feels like my heart's about to burst

Can't you see the take two?

Stories unfoldin' just for you

Youth with you by my side

Take my hands now”

The last verse came on and you broke, drawing in a choked breath as you pull his hand closer to you.

“It was possible because I was with you

I was happy being with you

I breathe in your voice

I stood up with your tears

Do I deserve your love?

The intersection of souls we've created over the years

I am so grateful and happy to be with you

Let's continue to be happy in the future”

You noticed the grainy picture of you two in the background, neither of your faces showing but you remembered it anyway, it was the day he had asked you out.

You wiped your face as the song came to a close, the last notes being the song you always whistled whenever you were cooking.

You’d never heard something so powerful, you’d never heard a song that held so much meaning and although you were an avid fan of the entire bts and agust d discography this was by far the most beautiful song you’d ever heard. The message being clearly a one of devotion, love and thanks. Something you often realised you’d never understand so clearly if you hadn’t met the man beside you.

As you turn to face him you realise how eyes are trained on you, you doubted he had watched a moment of the music video. “It was so beautiful.”

He ran a hand down the side of your face, wiping away a stray tear. Search the song.”

“What?” You gave him a puzzled look pulling out your phone.

As you typed the title into Naver a ton of results followed, mostly articles about the release of the song. “Now what?”

“Search the credits.” He laughed, watching your eyes.

You did as he instructed and began reading through them. You went stoic with shock as you see the word “ace” below the melody section.

When you’d first met each other he had always called you that because he said you were the ace of multitasking. Dealing with your own job and supporting him at all times whilst making him his favourite foods whenever you could.

“Yoongi I don’t know what to say it’s all so perfect.” You began crying again and this time he brought you closer to him, careful to mind the sleeping dog as he pulls your head to his neck.

“I wanted to thank you for everything these past few years. For being my best friend and accepting partner, for loving me and the members. I’ll never not be grateful to have you.” It’s only when you pull back you realise he too has tears in his eyes.

You lean in to kiss him, the action speaking louder than words. “I love you Min Yoongi.”

“I hope I can spend the rest of my life with you.” He whispers back, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You kiss his head in return earning a smile.

“You really are something.” He laughs, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Wait until your number one fanboy Jungkook finds out you made a song about me.”

He rolls his eyes, fake groaning. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You humm, tapping your chin dramatically.“You won’t but neither will I.”

“And why is that?” He raises an eyebrow, cockily.

“Because I’m yours forever.”

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

Next chapter | Masterlist

In the spirit of the season I thought I’d give the first chapter of this new fic to you all 🤗 I haven’t fully worked out the specific day, but I’ll be posting a chapter a week after the new year so stay tuned! 💜

Ch. 1: Love

Time seems slow when you’re in the middle of it. Even slower when you’re looking forward to something. Yoongi spent 21 months away from his home, his members, Army, his family, and his girlfriend who he had only been dating 3 short months before he had to leave.

Yoongi and Hyeri had known each other before, both being under Hybe as artists. Na Hyeri, stage name: Rainbow, began her idol career with a short lived girl group called Two Piece under a much smaller company. The group disbanded after just two mini albums, and a lot of attention thanks to their company infamously mishandling everything from money to the artist’s safety and well-being. When the smoke died down, Hyeri signed with Hybe as a solo artist and has made a name for herself in the few years since her solo debut.

She first met Yoongi when he produced a song that she performed for a tourism campaign. The song made waves across social media and beyond and Hyeri found herself gaining a mass of new fans. The first time they ran into each other after the campaign took off, Hyeri jokingly thanked Yoongi for the new fans. That turned into an hour long conversation that was the beginning of a new relationship.

After endless texts, phone calls, and sneaking to see each other around the company building whenever they could, they became official. To themselves mostly and close family and friends. Yoongi told the rest of the members and Hyeri told her best friends and former bandmates, Haeun and Minji. To the rest of the world they’re just label mates who worked on a song together.

Being under the same company made things easy. Moving in together 2 months later made things even easier. Yoongi’s enlistment however, made things harder.

For 21 months Hyeri lived alone waiting for Yoongi with the rest of the world. His few vacation times never seemed long enough and his discharge date seemed like it was centuries away.

Then he was back. And just like that those 21 months didn’t seem so bad after all. Things were as they had been before with all seven of them back together again.

Hyeri had begun taking more and more acting jobs so she was fairly busy, but always left a note and a snack for Yoongi when she’d leave before him. Other times she would give him a soft kiss when she’d come home late and find him already asleep. Yoongi always sent her a meal if she were home and he wasn’t. The nights he spent in his studio instead of home he would make up for with more gifts than necessary. Jewelry, stuffed animals, posters of himself, and the occasional pair of shoes despite him telling her he wouldn’t buy her shoes since she already has so many.

Once the group’s big post-military comeback had concluded, Yoongi felt truly happy. He was back with his brothers making music and seeing Army again, and he had his girlfriend by his side who he’s deeply in love with. All felt right in the world.

Yoongi had begun working on new music for the group’s upcoming full length album. He’s been in his studio much more instead of home, but it’s not too bad. Hyeri finished shooting her small parts in a drama she was cast in and had begun working on a couple of songs for the soundtrack. When she was done recording for the day, she would come by Yoongi’s studio and spend as much time there as she could since she knows he may not come home that night.

This day is like any other. Hyeri finished her final recording session and dropped by Yoongi’s studio with a dinner of his favorite cheat meal, noodles. They both sit on his couch eating, chatting, and cuddling a bit once they’ve cleared their bowls.

“I think this may have been my last recording session,” Hyeri says with her legs rested across Yoongi’s lap.

“So you’re really going to do it?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I know it’s going to suck and you’re going to hate it, but I just…” she pauses and looks up at his face. He may be expressionless, but she knows that’s just him trying to hide his disappointment.

“Hybe is more of a music company, you know that,” she continues. “I just really think I’ll have much better acting opportunities with JJS since they’re such a successful acting agency.”

JJS is one of the top entertainment agencies in the acting world. They house some of the best entertainers in the industry, from romance movie heartthrobs, variety show comedians who have become household names, and even action movie baddies. Hyeri had been looking into switching companies so that she can embark on her new career as a full time actress. She’s gotten a number of roles through Hybe already. Mostly a few commercials and a couple of small cameos in tv shows. For her, switching to JJS could mean finally getting her breakout opportunity to send her acting career soaring.

“I know we won’t get to see each other like this anymore,” she says. “But we’ll still see each other at home. Don’t be mad,” she pouts.

“I’m not mad,” Yoongi says caressing her leg. “I told you before I would support you no matter what you decide.”

“But you still don’t like it.”

“It’s fine. We’ll see each other at home, right?”

“We never see each other at home,” she pouts more.

“You just said…” he chuckles shaking his head and pulls her closer to him. “We’ll make it work. I want you to follow your dreams. Don’t hold yourself back because of me.”

“Are you sure you’re ok with it? Do you think it will make things hard?”

“Not as hard as me being away for 21 months,” he chuckles. “Trust me.”She nods and he gives her a reassuring kiss.

Hyeri goes back and forth on whether she’s making the right decision. Yoongi constantly tells her she is but she’s struggling to believe it. She spends less time in the company building since she’s not working on anything and will be leaving soon. That means she’s been home alone a lot. It’s nothing new to her, but she’s starting to realize how hard it may actually be. Especially when she starts working again.

Yoongi is the perfect support for her. He keeps her sane and assures her that he’ll stand by her no matter what she does or where she goes. Sure it will come with challenges, but he knows they can make it work.

Things start off fine. News of Hyeri signing with JJS was met with lots of support from her fans. She immediately landed a small supporting role in a movie and Yoongi couldn’t be happier for her.

Shooting on the movie began and that became the true test of their relationship. They rarely saw each other. When one of them would leave or come home, the other would be asleep. Yoongi would even spend less time in his studio so he could be home on the off chance that she gets there early. She never did and he would spend another night falling asleep alone.

It’s frustrating for them both to be so close yet so far from each other. Yoongi has completed the majority of his work on the songs for their new album. Even with endless recording and dance practices, he still can’t seem to find enough to do to keep his mind off of the empty space in his bed that smells like Hyeri.

They text when they can but it’s never enough. They miss each other and start to feel like they were able to talk to each other more when he was in the military. No matter how hard they try or how bad they want it, they can never seem to get their schedules to line up.

One day that finally changes. A month into Hyeri’s shoot, and about a month before Yoongi embarks on another BTS comeback era, they find an overlap in free time in their schedules. Yoongi had a gap in his schedule that gave him a bit of free time. He typically would spend that time in his studio. However, Hyeri had a last minute cancellation that gave her the rest of the evening off.

Yoongi only has an hour to see Hyeri so he rushes out and tells her to meet him at a nearby restaurant for dinner. He would rather see her at home so they can be in private, but the further he has to go, the less time that will leave him with Hyeri. He’s so desperate that he doesn’t want to lose a second.

Since time is limited and privacy is important, Yoongi chose a small snack food place that he and the members had been going to for many years. They always have a table in the back away from the public eye for them. It’s private enough and a quick meal.

Yoongi arrives at the restaurant first. He doesn’t have to wait long before Hyeri arrives, though to him it felt like hours. She looks around a moment then runs to give Yoongi a long kiss filled with so much pent up longing.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in years,” Hyeri says kissing him again.

“I missed you,” he says stealing one more kiss before she takes her seat across from him.

“I wish we had time but I’ll take this over nothing,” she says quickly scanning the menu. “There’s so much I want to tell you about the movie shoot! It’s been so much fun and everyone has been really cool. I really think I made the right choice. I just wish it didn’t keep me away from you so much.”

“I know, Bow,” he says, calling her by the shortened version of her stage name, Rainbow. “You’ll have more time once the shooting is done. Then even more time when you finish all the promos.”

“I know, baby, but aren’t you guys going on your world tour around the time I finish shooting? I know things haven’t been finalized yet, but we really wouldn’t have much time together before you’re off traveling the world.”

Yoongi knows she’s right and it breaks his heart to see the sadness in her eyes. Their server comes by to take their order before he can think of something to say to make her feel better.

After placing their order and sitting in silence a few moments, Yoongi reaches across the table and takes Hyeri’s small hands into his.

“I wish I could take you with me,” he says forcing a smile.

“I don’t know,” she chuckles trying to lighten the mood. “You might get sick of me then.”

“I won’t get sick of you,” he chuckles. “Even when you’re annoying, you’re still beautiful.”

“Are you trying to romance me, Mr. Min?” She jokes.

“I was only stating a fact,” he chuckles.

“Admit it, Yoon-gya, you like me,” she laughs calling him by the nickname that never fails to make him laugh.

When Hyeri first met Jin he was speaking so fast she could hardly understand him. When she heard him shout “Yoongi-ah” it sounded like “Yoon-gya” to her. After they began dating she asked Yoongi why Jin calls him “Yoon-gya”. Yoongi was confused at first, but once he realized what she was saying he never let it go. In return she calls him that whenever she’s messing with him.

“I love you,” he chuckles. “But still…you’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will, babe.” She shakes her head knowing he should know better. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s going to take more than an enlistment and a world tour to get rid of me.”

He gives her hands a light squeeze and flashes his gummy smile in happiness. Both of them are soaking up each other’s presence in this rare moment they have together. They continue talking about work and things they haven’t been able to tell through text. Their food arrives and they continue chatting as they eat.

That hour is much too short. It only felt like a few minutes to them, but they look and now it’s time for Yoongi to return to the office for his scheduled recording session. It’s hard for them to let each other go. They stand in front of the restaurant lingering a moment trying to find the courage to leave.

“I’ll try to stay up for you,” Hyeri says.

“Hopefully we can make it quick. I’ll come straight home once I’m done.” He reaches for her hand out of habit briefly forgetting that they’re out on the street. She doesn’t stop him though. She takes his hand for just a brief moment to feel his warmth a second longer, then let’s go.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she smiles. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he smiles.

They both head to their cars and go off their separate ways. They hate to leave after finally getting a moment of togetherness. That only gives Yoongi a much greater sense of urgency the rest of the evening.

When he returns to the studio it’s clear to everyone he’s trying to get things done quickly. He has no time for small talk or getting off track with mindless conversations. The sooner this is done the better.

“Hyung,” Jimin says exiting the recording booth. “Take it easy. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“She’s waiting for me,” Yoongi says with no further explanation.

“Ah,” Jimin nods. He knows exactly what Yoongi means. He knows what Hyeri means to Yoongi so he doesn’t need any further explanation. “Get in there and finish up then.”

Before Yoongi, Jimin is the last one to finish recording. Now that he’s done he switches places with Yoongi to help things move along faster. Jimin doesn’t mind staying a bit later so Yoongi can get home. It takes a little longer than Yoongi would like, but he finally finishes and rushes off to go home without giving Jimin a second look. Jimin follows him out and simply laughs to himself at how flustered his hyung is. He knows Yoongi is in deep.

Yoongi returns home at 1am hoping Hyeri is still awake. When he steps inside all of the lights are off and he fears he may be too late. That is, until he reaches the bedroom and he can hear the shower running.

Hyeri had just gotten in the shower after finishing a late meal. She was fighting her sleep in hopes that Yoongi would be home soon. She decided to hop in the shower in an attempt to stay awake just a little longer.

She leans her head back and closes her eyes as the water runs through her hair and down her back. The warm water is relaxing so she stands there not moving for a few moments. She takes a deep breath and just then she can feel a hand on her waist.

She opens her eyes to see Yoongi entering the shower and pulling her close to his bare body. She isn’t sure how he managed to get home and get undressed without her hearing a thing, but it doesn’t matter. She instantly wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

“I’m so glad you’re still awake,” Yoongi says in a low tone. “I feel like I haven’t gotten to hold you in way too long.”

“I know,” she says kissing him again. “I never knew I could miss you so much when we live together.”

He feels the same but rather than saying so, he pulls her in tighter for a heavier kiss. His hands trace every wet part of her body until he reaches between her legs and softly teases her clit. He lives for the breathy moan she lets out at the feeling of him. The sound he’s missed, the feel he’s missed, the taste he’s missed. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

He continues kissing her, slipping his tongue into her mouth and swallowing every sound of hers until he presses her back against the shower wall. His level of arousal is almost unbearable in this moment. So many missed connections and lonely nights are overflowing and poking her pelvis in the process.

“I love you so much, Bow,” he growls lifting her leg and wrapping it around his waist.

“I love you too, baby,” she whispers anticipating his entry that is much desired.

He presses her into the wall harder and takes his tongue on a tour of her neck and chest until he reaches her tits. He loves to see her like this. Melting in his arms and breathing heavily for what he’s about to give her.

He fills her up slowly sending waves of heat through her body until he can’t go any further. He pauses in place and stares her down. He could die in her big brown eyes that are staring up at him with lustful anticipation.

He starts slowly. Easing in and out of her delicately as if she were made of porcelain. In his mind she is. Right now, she’s his beautiful porcelain doll that he’ll never break.

“You feel so good,” he whispers taking her lips again.

She tightens her hold around his neck and arches her back pressing her chest into him more. It’s her silent way of telling him she wants it faster and harder. She wants his love to break her.

He takes the hint and picks up speed while pressing her harder against the shower wall. Her unsteady breaths fuel his powerful strokes more and more. Her moans sing a song that he’ll never get tired of. He can feel that overwhelming pressure within him getting closer to exploding out of every part of him.

The way her nails dig into the back of his neck lets him know she’s just about to lose it. He’s just about to lose it. Her pussy tightens around him sucking his oxygen out.

He growls at her, becoming more relentless and desperate with each stroke.

“I love you so fucking much,” she pants.

The rhythm of his hips sends her over the moon. Her nails dig deeper into his skin as she searches for some bit of stability. He lets out a deep purr when his muscles start to tense and his vision begins to fade.

“I love you,” she repeats kissing his neck. She continues to hang on to him until his hips slow to a stop and his purrs decrease to heavy breaths.

“I love you too, Hyeri,” he says once he has his voice back.

He slides out of her and kisses her softly. She lowers her leg from around his waist and smiles up at him.

“I don’t think I’ll have trouble falling asleep tonight,” she says.

“Good,” he says nipping at her bottom lip. “You only have about three hours before you have to leave.”

“Perfect,” she sarcastically huffs dreading her very early call time that she could have been well rested for had she not stayed up waiting for Yoongi. “I guess I should get to bed then.”

[kithtaehyung]

summer bbq (3tan) | myg

title: summer bbq  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call  rating/genre: pg13 (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the summer cookout at your place is fun as hell despite the way you have to avoid yoongi looking like sin incarnate. but when he gets asked an unavoidable question, you suddenly feel exposed. and very, very cold.  note: this is a drabble for the three tangerines series! undisclosed whether it’s in the main storyline or not, so it’s a standalone for now. also, this is for the person that sent the first bbq message, the people that also wanted this drabble, 🍰 anon for the belated bday gift, and everyone else that is looking forward to anything 3tan! thank you for digging me out of a creative slump and rejuvenating my spirit fr<3  note 2: i have what you call a... proposition for y’all. at the end. ehehehehe see you on the other side!  warnings: …this yoongi is just unfair🥴🥴, language, alcohol consumption, house parties, uhhh some food play sdkjlf, uhhhh lollipops lol, jimin is a little shit, but so is yoongi!!, body worship lmfao, tense situations, angst :((, kissing as a warning uh huh, kitchen as a warning you know how it is, chains :))))), yoongi in a tank, yoongi on the phone lmfao, wet yoongi l o l, just all the yoongi’s i fear, shiv raises some brows..?, there’s some rly cute moments in this :’)), despite all the menace-ry loll drop date: march 27th, 2023, 12:30am est word count: 9.6k💀💀💀

—

—

“Hey, Yoongi’s at the door!” 

“Yeah, I got it!” 

Putting your mixing bowl down with a clink, you stare out the kitchen for a moment, nerves on high alert.

Before a tiny smirk graces your face.

You didn’t know how anything was gonna play out when you got ready this morning, or if you were even gonna pull this whole thing off. 

But with your sibling out of sight? You get to start on offense straight away.

Perfect.

Prepared, you bring your weapon of choice to the door: a spoon, slathered with delicious batter, and your tongue in just a second. 

Because if Yoongi’s gonna make your life hard today, who are you to back down without a fight? 

As you walk out of the kitchen, you remember the call from this morning, your voice still scratchy from sleep and your brain at twenty percent processing power. 

“Morning.” 

“How’d you sleep, babe.” 

“Mmm.. It’d be better.. If you were here.” 

“I feel that. But I’ll be there later.” 

You remember pouting slightly, because sleepy you was frustrated that he wasn’t there already and he wasn’t getting the point. And that frustration carried into your next breath, 

“I don’t want you to be.” 

“Wait, huh?” 

The way he laughed so lazily yet so surprised made you bury your face in your pillow. 

“Don’t make this harder on yourself, doll.” 

“Wha?” That was the first spark that got you awake. “The hell does that mean?” 

Smugness dripped into your speaker, 

“You’re up now, huh.” 

“So mean so early,” you whispered in response, earning another fiendish, low chuckle on the other line. “Bet I could make it harder for you, too.” 

There was nothing but silence then, and you didn’t even realize why until you thought back over your words. “...Wait.” 

Yoongi’s burst of mirth made you hastily turn the volume down, and you sank into your sheets from embarrassment. “I meant—”

“You always do.” 

“No, I meant—I meant toda—goddamn it.” 

His joy at your expense was annoyingly contagious, and you had to keep your chuckle to a breathy noise under your covers lest you got too loud. 

But you weren’t out of the woods yet. Because Yoongi was determined to make the cookout you were hosting interesting. 

“This is gonna be too easy.” 

“Hmm?” 

With a fucking taunt. 

“You’re gonna be easy to break today, baby girl.”

That was the second spark that shocked you awake. “Break how?” 

“Uh uh. Guess you just have to find out.” 

And that’s when you decided that you weren’t gonna suffer alone. “Not if I break you first.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mmhmm.” With newfound determination, your brain kickstarted into gear, and the devious planning for the day began. “Not losing to you.” 

“Cute.” 

“No rules?”

“Course not.” 

“Good.” 

“And babe?” 

“Hmm?” 

You waited, hanging on to his every second of silence with breath held and heart paused.

“Good fuckin’ luck.” 

That’s the last thought you recall before you swing the front door open, determined to best this fiend at his own made-up game and win it all shit you might swallow your entire spoon. 

…Fuck.

A hat, a tank, and the jewelry you love to hate. 

Fucking bullshit.

You were already dreading whatever the hell Yoongi was going to show up in ever since he left you a very cheeky “haha see you soon” text, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you’re witnessing. 

Good thing he has a jacket on, too, or else you would’ve definitely found a whole spoon lodged in your esophagus. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi...”

When he stares, you can’t help but feel a bit of pride bloom. 

Because you aren’t just armed with a spoon. 

You also reached for an article of clothing that you knew affected him last time. 

Except now, your sundress is a lot more revealing than the last. And it’s very obviously covering your two-piece, a new one that you’re only confident enough to wear because of the man standing at the door. 

Well. He could also be staring at your lips still stuck to the—

“Damn, about time!”

Crap.

Your heart skips as you tear your gaze away, stepping aside and letting a very, very nice-smelling opponent walk past you.

Fucking hell, even his cologne is a problem. 

Your spoon’s released with a frustrated pop.

In front of you, Yoongi greets your sibling with their usual handshake, and you circle around them to head back into the kitchen, refocusing on all the dishes you planned to cook.

“Sup.”

“Work is shit right now, dude.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you outside.”

At least you have a distraction for now. If you didn’t have anything to do, your eyes would’ve found plenty of things to focus on. 

As your brother leads Yoongi to the backyard, you’re very aware when they get into the kitchen, and you steal a glance at your secret one more time before he passes through. 

Goddamn, it only takes a millisecond for him to occupy your brain for hours. 

And he didn’t even look at you.

Maybe you’re in over your head.

“Okay, what do we have left,” you start, solely to yourself as music bumps outside. Pointing to all the dishes lined up around your kitchen, you sound them off and make sure you have ingredients for everything that’s left. 

You do, but people are already coming through, so you should start clearing counter space. 

Hands full, you make your way out, conversation and melodies growing in volume the closer you get. Heat from a fast approaching summer wafts through before you step into the backyard, and you walk over to the pitched up table by the grill,

“Here y’all go.”

“Thanks!” Your brother immediately grabs a bite with his fingers before you tsk at him. “What? They’re clean.”

“Aren’t you touching raw meat?”

“Relax, damn, it’s marinaded already. Got tongs.”

One song flows into the next when you pause, sizzles and fire catching your attention. “Oh. Well, still.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I got you. Yoong, how are they looking?”

“Good. Couple more minutes for these then we can throw more on.”

“K. Shiv is about to be here and I think Jimin, too.” 

“Yeah, he just texted.”

“Sweet.”

You get caught staring at the rows of meat before heading back inside, and your head snaps up at a subdued chuckle. 

What’s that look on Yoongi’s face? He looks way too amused standing next to your brother. “What?”

“Making sure you don’t snatch these before they’re done.”

Rude! “Be for real.”

His brows pinch as his grin slants, and he aims a very rhetorical ask at his grilling buddy, “Does anyone eat in this house?” 

“Yes, bitch, next question.” 

Your snort shoots out before your lips curve upward, and Yoongi’s hiss of amusement follows as you walk away. 

Behind you, your sibling gives a heads up, “Oh, hey, leave the front unlocked. More people are coming.”

“The hell? How many?”

Damn it. You don’t like the sheepish look you get. 

“Uhh… A few.” 

A few, your ass!

The least your brother could’ve done was tell you straight up how many people were gonna show. Shit, even a ballpark estimate would’ve been fine. You could’ve prepped a lot more thoroughly. 

With self-appointed stress on your shoulders, you immediately add four more dishes to the roster, sighing at the added hour of kitchen time. 

You’re gonna get his ass. 

Because as much as you love hosting and cooking for people, even you have your limits when it comes to making shit. And you’re doing all of this by yourself. 

“Whatever,” you whisper to no one as you open the freezer for the fortieth pass, scavenging between bags of popsicles and boxes of frozen breakfast sandwiches. “He’s paying for groceries next time. And we’re getting the good shit.” 

But based on all the talk you keep hearing, it seems like the week was long for everyone, so you can deal with the labor if it makes them feel better. With a soft huff, you think that even you yourself can benefit from your cooking at this point. 

The only other person’s that could help even more would be…

Side-stepping to peek outside, you notice that the one you’re thinking of is still at the grill, and you want nothing more than to go out there and give him a kiss on his sweaty, smoky cheek. 

But a couple things stop you.

The first being that you absolutely will not break, so there’s that. And the second is the person hanging around him, wet hair dripping pool water onto their very exposed chest. 

You’ve seen her before, though you don’t remember her name. But if your memory is still decent, she had a thing with your brother before, which the both of them ended somewhat amicably since he didn’t seem phased. 

Guess she’s switching targets now.

Sighing, you tear your vision away and focus back on the ingredients waiting for your prep. 

You can’t let something like that get to you, especially given all the ways Yoongi’s proven himself. 

And given this damn bet. 

Focus, focus, focus. 

While you cut and dice, you remember how the two of you cooked together the first time. While you wait for another dish to boil, you remember the way he was so playful in his kitchen. Carefree but still meticulous, tired but still willing to help. 

Shit, you miss him. 

And he’s literally right over there. 

Mood slightly sagged, you stir a pot that only has water inside. Again. And again. One more time.

Maybe you both should just—

“Got a sec?”

Your body snaps to attention, and you look back to see Yoongi making his way into the kitchen, sheen on his bare arms putting all shining armor to shame.

Wait, fuck, he took his jacket off? Didn’t he just have it on at the grill? 

Hell no, he needs to keep those broad shoulders covered or else you’re really gonna fucking lose. “Not really, but what’s up?”

“Can we, umm...” He sighs, wiping his slick brow with a forearm and letting his words drift off. After a moment, he just stares at you before turning his head to look outside. 

And you wait. 

And wait. 

…Can you what? 

While you want to say something, you get distracted as hell. Because sweat just makes him twenty times more enticing, which makes you eighty times more speechless. 

But he’s still looking outside, and the whole situation is so weird that curiosity overshadows thirst for three seconds. 

Is he caving already? 

“Yoongi?” 

He blinks and turns back to your awaiting eyes, and what comes out of his mouth is not what you expected in the least, 

“Can we borrow the paper towels?”

Ah. Just a normal, logical request. 

Makes sense. It’s not like you’re more than friends in real life or anything. Of course this is what he was coming in for. 

Why would he ask for anything else right now? 

Nodding and totally not disappointed, you answer, “Yeah, sure.” 

Fetching the roll from near your sink, you meet him halfway around your island before offering, 

“Do you need me to clean—”

Wait what what what—

What?

What is he doing? 

Completely frozen, you don’t even realize something being delicately taken from your hand. 

Because Yoongi’s standing as close to you as he can. 

Leaning on the island with a veiny hand. 

And his lips are alarmingly close what the fuck is he doing! 

Your eyes dart to the backyard as his voice comes out a devilish whisper, “Give up yet?”

No one can see you no one can see you no one can see you yet. 

Your quick seeth is just as potent as you stand your ground, “Hell no.”

“Good,” he rasps into your skin before pulling back, nonchalant while no amount of summer heat can melt your stature. 

But his quick laugh snaps you out of it immediately.

“Yoongi—”

“Thanks for these,” he cuts in while making his leave, and you swallow nothing while you watch him lazily walk back out to the grill. 

…Did that really just happen? 

There are a lot of people here.

Granted, they’re all outside, but still. Someone could’ve seen through the back windows. And he damn well knows that. 

Wait, is that why he was watching outside that whole time?

If your brother is paying for your groceries, his best friend is paying for your hospital bills.

Breathless, you find purchase on a counter while your knees give out just a tad. Oxygen takes its sweet time coming back to you, and you feel your chest flutter when you keep staring out the very open back door. 

That’s probably the boldest Yoongi has been. Ever.

Because you can’t think of another time he blatantly did something like that with this many people around.

It’s doing things to your heart that have you on the verge of—

“You good?”

The fuck!

You flinch with a tiny mangled yelp, spinning to see your friends behind you. “Oh, shit. Hi.”

While Yuri keeps laughing, Dom repeats herself, “Seriously, you okay?”

“Uh huh, yeah.” You straighten and walk over to hug all of them, thinking it’s cute how each of them dressed up just how you expected. “I just have so much shit to make still.” 

Reia’s and Yuri’s eyes widen as they survey the kitchen. 

“You’re still cooking?”

“No one’s helping you?”

“Mmhmm. It’s cool, though,” you assure them, knowing you do have a lot more to do but also knowing that’s the burden of being host. 

“Babe, you are the only one in the house,” Dom tuts. “They can figure the food situation out themselves, go have fun.” 

“But—” When you’re about to say something else, you hear the telltale hisses of water hitting your stove, and you rush to lift the lid off the boiling pot from earlier. “See! We’re fine. I got thi—” 

“Go outside,” Reia gently interrupts while Yuri chuckles. “Tell us what you’re making and we’ll do it.” 

You glance at Dom, taking her eyebrow raise as a sign to surrender. “I mean, I can stay while y’all help. I just have this and the macaroni left. And the timer is for the cookies in the oven.”

Multiple sounds of confidence bubble up. 

“That’s it?”

“We can do that.” 

“Go have fun and stop being so diligent.”

And just like that, you’re pulled off duty to enjoy yourself, so you go outside to finally relax.

Completely missing both rolls of paper towels on the table by the grill. 

After another half-hour, the backyard is starting to get pretty filled in multiple spaces. While some people are standing in the shaded areas, others are freely basking in the sunshine, a myriad of colors—both in clothing and animated conversation. 

You’re grateful as hell for your friends, too, because you definitely needed to move some plants and decor before they were subjected to clumsy people or unaware legs. 

A good host, you also started your rounds, making sure everyone either got food or some form of small talk. Which is good anyway, since you need to polish your networking skills for work. 

Your brother is already quite incredible at that. 

Hence the way he’s already made his way around the backyard, exchanging handshakes and sidehugs and jokes. 

While he’s on the other side talking to a few of his business friends, you find yourself by the pool talking with Trish—one of his old classmates and someone that’s lived on your block forever, 

“How’s everything been? It’s been awhile.” 

“Oh, you know. Bad,” she replies before a sad laugh you both share. “I mean, it’s alright. Just haven’t caught a damn break.” 

Taking a sip of your drink, you sigh, sweeping your gaze across the yard and getting caught in the same snag you always do. “Tell me about it.” 

God. You’ve seen Yoongi in less than a tank and lived to tell the tale. But for some reason, he looks extra fine with a side of confident today, and that just throws you off every axis imaginable. 

“You, too? You seem pretty alright.” 

When your demise bends to grab a beer from a cooler, you almost trip over a grand total of two words,

“I do?” 

“Mmhmm.” Trish’s lips form a pretty smile before she explains, “Last time I saw you, I could tell you were going through some shit. But like my mom says: your back’s a lot straighter now.” 

Huh. 

You didn’t even know there was a difference. 

Subtly watching the rest of the backyard as an excuse to see Yoongi again, you find a bit of joy in the way he’s slowly smiling while Shiv speaks with his hands, breaking into laughter along with him and showing off a dashing set of teeth. 

“I mean…” You trail off, catching a look exchanged between your brother and a very suspicious Park Jimin. “I’m doing a lot better, yeah.” 

Your attention is taken by the way Trish slides ringed fingers along the flow of your sundress. “And you’re even showing some skin? Nails done? Telling you, I like this you.” 

Half-embarrassed and half-proud, you chuckle. “Is that right?” 

“For sure, for sure.” She lets the soft material slip from her hand before offering you a look—a look you’ve learned to get used to. 

A look of pity. 

“Both of you deserve to be happy,” she finally says, and you feel a slight pang in your chest. “Out of all the people I know, I’ve always wished good for you two the most.” 

Throat a tad smaller, you have to look away to speak your response, little in both volume and words, 

“Thanks, Trish.”

“Of course.” She watches the same commotion that you do: mischievous boys being boys and spelling out trouble for a certain man in a tank. “And you know our door’s still always open if you need us.”  

“Mmhmm. Oh, no, are they gonna—”

“Uh huh.” 

As soon as Trish agrees, you both watch with delight as Yoongi gets hauled by the arms, quick laughs and sounds of protest flinging out of him as he’s led to the edge of the pool. 

All resulting in one big “Fuck!” as he’s thrown in with a humongous splash. 

Your laugh adds to all the others that spring around the backyard, with shouts popping up in tandem. Jimin’s cackling from joy while your brother just holds up a middle finger and a grin to his dunked friend. 

But while everyone keeps giggling and smiling, your mirth is cut short. 

Because Yoongi is completely drenched when he emerges from the water, and you are subjected to a whole other world of hurt and butterfly wings.

Oh, fuck that. 

Stay strong. You have to. You can’t give… in…

He rakes wet locks back before slowly walking to the edge of the pool, wiping his face before aiming a smirk of revenge at your menace sibling, 

“It’s like that, huh?” 

“Yeah, fucker. You look too happy.” 

“The fuck?” Yoongi laughs right as he gets to the rim, and he swipes at his hair one more time. “Lucky I didn’t have my phone again.” 

Jimin exclaims in sudden reminiscence, “I almost forgot about that!” 

“He couldn’t text for hours after last time.” 

Yoongi just shakes his head as he holds out an arm for someone to help him up, and Park accepts it before saying something that you can’t hear. 

But you really, really wanna know what it was because Yoongi immediately grins and jumps, yanking his friend right into the pool to another round of laughs and cheers. 

None of this is good for you in the slightest. 

You want nothing more than to join him and kiss those stupid lips just to get him to shut up. Too bad you can’t break because you aren’t alone—and he’d never let you hear the end of it.

But it’s so unfair. 

How can someone be this effortlessly attractive? You know that you aren’t the only one eyeing him right now, and yet, you’re the last one that can act on it. 

Frustrating as fuck. 

But your brother and a few other people see Jimin’s demise as a cue to hop into the pool, too, and Trish leaves your side to join them. 

“You comin’?”

“I’m good!”

Soon, a mix of swimsuits and trunks fills the water with color, and you watch with content as the boys erupt into their own antics again with big water splashes and arcs. 

Everyone’s having a good ass time. 

And despite your unfortunate predicament, you’re truly enjoying yourself, too. 

Coming up to the liquid-darkened tiles lining the pool, you call out to your brother,

“Y’all want the volleyball net?”

He whips his head around immediately, and you have to force yourself to keep your eyes on him instead of swinging them to Yoongi’s. “Yes, please!” 

“K.” 

You move to go out the back gate, and you’re almost there when a voice calls out,

“I’ll help you!”

Turning, you give a cautious smile to the man sporting swim trunks and sandals, surprised that he wants to assist. “You sure?”

Shiv is unwavering. “Yeah! Isn’t it heavy?” 

“It’s a net and poles.”

“I remember those being heavy,” he counters as you both make your way to the garage. 

Chuckling, you shoot him a look. “When’s the last time you carried them? When you were five?” 

When he answers with a wince, you expel another laugh,

“Okay, you got me. I just didn’t want them begging me to play.” 

“Smart.”

It doesn’t take you long to show him where it is in the garage, and you notice the two of you smell like summer when you walk back into the backyard. 

Music fills the air as you set up the net for everyone, and Yoongi helps you steady the legs on your side.

“Good?”

When you lock eyes, you realize two things. 

One, you can read him now. 

Because two, he’s meaning a lot more than if the net is fine. 

You let a smile slip, feeling warmer than the weather itself. “Mmhmm.”

“K.”

And you should’ve left it at that. 

But when you start to stand, you can’t help but whisper, 

“Why, is someone gonna break soon?”

And you miss the way he stares as you walk away.

Fuck, you wanna be able to just join his side, but you’ve got to keep things under control. 

Why did he have to get thrown in the water! How is Jimin equally parts helpful and your worst enemy?

Goddamn it, Park.

Chucking rubber daggers his way with a tsk, you make your way to the table your friends chose to occupy, settling into the one empty chair.

“What was that?” 

“Hmm?”

“With that guy,” Yuri whispers at Yuri-levels, which isn’t whispering at all. 

You hush her with a downward swat of your hand. “You know it’s nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing to me.”

Glancing at Dom for reprieve, you’re thrown when she agrees,

“You really needed him for a net I could carry with one hand?”

Your friends are gonna meet some of your rubber daggers, too. 

Shaking your head, you look towards the already lively game happening in the pool. “He insisted.” 

You would add more context if you could—and you should, to be fair—but your eyes land on Yoongi spinning the volleyball in his hand, and your entire train of thought derails immediately. 

This isn’t fucking fair. 

“—doesn’t even hear me.”

Oh shit. “Huh?”

“See.”

You pout at their laughs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing.” 

“Nu uh.” 

“Sure.”

“To you.” 

When you reach to play with some of your dress, it’s an automatic response to turn away again, knowing where this is going and not wanting to reach that destination.

“He’s into you.” 

There before you could blink. 

“Nah,” you answer, drawing out the syllable in prolonged reluctance. After a pause, you watch as the current rally keeps going with jumps and yells and splashes. “At least, I don’t think so.” 

While Dom hums in disagreement, Reia offers some salve, 

“He looks nice, at least.” 

You’re about to offer your own response when someone enters through the back gate, and your soul lights up at the latecomer, 

“Tae! Wait, you brought”—a squeal flings out of your mouth when you spot Yeontan, arguably your favorite among the two partygoers—“My baby!”

Taehyung laughs before saying hi to all the people waving and greeting him. As you’re bent to pet his little ball of fluff, a voice floats down from above, 

“He wouldn’t let me leave in peace today.” 

“I think he just wanted to see me. Isn’t that right?” 

“Didn’t you just see each other?” 

Looking up and squinting from sunlight, your scoff launches into his face. “Video calls don’t count.” 

“Yes, they do!”

“Untrue,” Yuri cuts in from beside you, picking Yeontan up and giving him big kisses. “We can watch him while you eat, Tae.” 

“Thanks.” He hands the leash over to your friend before starting his walk, and you follow him because you need to let out some steam. “I haven’t eaten all day.” 

“Good. There’s plenty of”—a wet ball dribbles in front of your toes—“Food here.” 

It’s instinct for you to go grab the volleyball before walking back to the pool, and you toss it to your awaiting brother who offers a quick thank you. 

“You want in?” 

Heck no. Not with that demon in the water. “I’m perfectly fine staying dry, thanks—Hey!” 

Taehyung is about to get rocked if he tries to push you forward again! Glaring, you warn, “Don’t you dare.” 

His face is nothing sort of cheeky. “Hand just slipped, I dunno.” 

You hear some chuckles skirt over the water, and you hate, hate, hate how Yoongi bites his lip like that to hold in a laugh. “What, you need a sub because one of you sucks?” 

And he answers before your brother can even breathe, addressing him right after, “Yes.” 

“Who?”

“You.” 

“Hell no, the fuck?” 

While you grin, Jimin yells from the other side of the net, “Hurry up! We’re about to win anyway.” 

“I’ll do it!” 

You don’t even get to turn fully before a determined Jungkook plunges into the pool, and you dodge the incoming splash while Taehyung lets it coat his feet. 

From what you know, Jimin’s words may not be fact anymore. 

Order is restored in the game—at least, from a logistics standpoint. The other team is already complaining that the new addition makes your brother’s side unfair, to which both him and Yoongi fling arguments through the net. 

“Y’all have Jia!” 

“You’re up by ten!” 

Summer sun and petty arguments. It’s like nothing has changed. 

Turning to your best friend, you ask if he’s ready to stuff his face, and he agrees with colorful words. 

“So. What’s up with you?” 

You lean back on one side of the kitchen island while Taehyung piles food onto his plate. “Nothing big. Just…” Glancing outside, you sigh, “Little stuff.” 

“Mm.” He scoops one more serving before licking his thumb. “Like what.” 

“Umm...” 

When you fold your arms, he lifts big eyes your way while choosing a counter of his own to lean on, already starting on his meal. And his silence prods your side until you say what you’re holding back, 

“He almost kissed me.” 

And Taehyung stops mid-chew. “Here?” 

“Yeah.” Staring out the back windows, you watch with endearment and longing as Yoongi emerges from the pool, shaking droplets from his hair before raking his back. “Right where I’m at, actually.” 

“Damn. Bold as fuck.” 

Your gaze makes your way to him before you lift your brows in agreement. “I know.” 

He chews, looking at the ground—or just at nothing—before offering his piece, 

“There’s no way someone didn’t see that.” 

The sound you make comes out a jumbled mess that matches your insides. “That’s what I’m saying! But… No one’s said anything about it, so. I guess no one noticed.”

“Has he done anything else?” 

Huh. Now that he’s mentioned it… “No. We haven’t even been near each other since then.” 

“Ah. That’s why you look like Yeontan when he pouts.” 

“Do not.” 

“You know I’m right.” 

Huffing, you lift your chin. “I’m only giving you a pass cus you brought him.” 

“That brat,” Taehyung says through a smile. Diamonds in his eyes, he beams at his food. “He did so well in the car.” 

You give him a happy curve of your own before getting lost in your thoughts, thinking about how that almost-kiss really was the only time you two interacted this whole time. The only other times were just quick conversations or talk involving other people.  

Is that why this feeling of yearning is so strong? You didn’t seize the one moment you had before it was gone because of this dumb game? 

Even though you’re having a wonderful time, you knew that something was missing. But why does that something have to be in reach and unreachable? Why does having him closer hurt worse? 

“Hey.” 

And why does he have to keep stealing your breath like this? 

You snap your vision up to see the root of all your worries standing at the back entrance, and you can feel Taehyung watching with interest piqued when he continues, 

“You got extra towels?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, wondering if you should just go get them or tell Yoongi where they are. 

Wait. He knows where you stash the towels. There’s no way he doesn’t know based off all the times he’s been over— 

“Do you want me to get them or will you?” 

Swiveling to Tae, you see him raise a brow before you turn back to the one dripping puddles at the door. 

“No, yeah, I can grab them,” you rasp out, clearing your throat and saying more confidently, “One sec.” 

“K.” 

Moment gone and opportunity not seized, you walk by yourself to the big guest bathroom carved in one of the hallway walls, hating how you didn’t even invite him to come with. 

It’s absolutely the right call, of course, but you could have at least been alone in his presence for a tiny sliver of time. What happened to wanting to be at his side? 

Sighing, you open the linen cabinet, hearing footsteps in the hall but not really thinking much of them. 

At least this will give you an excuse to have another quick conversation. More than two words exchanged is a miracle right now—

An arm appears at your side, caging you in between the linens and a very overwhelming presence at your back. 

Shit, you’re two seconds from snapping. 

Senses thrust into oblivion, you smell the heat of sunshine and feel the chill of his words on your neck, 

“I think someone is gonna break soon.” 

Oh. Your question at the edge of the pool has an answer. 

Turning your head but not your entire body, you watch the ground next to your feet. “Did you come in here just to admit it’s you?”

His chuckle ignites waves of tingles up your bare skin. When he leans in closer, you will yourself to stand resolute, even if his chains are currently caressing your back fuck.

“Just fold now and get it over with, baby girl.” 

You twist in place, facing his wet bangs and cocky eyes head-on. Heart bleeding at how beautiful he looks, you keep up a brave and stubborn front. “Not before you do.” 

“Have it your way.” He reaches to tweak one of your nipples before you swat his hand, and he smirks. “You really wanted to piss me off today, huh.” 

“What?” 

“This fucking dress,” he rumbles low, fisting a bunch in one of his hands before pressing it to your hip. “Fuck this bet, I’d take you right now if you let me.” 

“Yoongi.” 

He just snickers, and you bet your shuddering breath smells of alcohol just like his does. “I’m playin’.” 

Swallowing, you gaze at his lips before whispering, “This won’t work.” 

“Oh, yeah?” He swoops in close to your neck, and you tilt your head back before he slowly leaves you to your own breaths. “I got other ways.” 

Fully dazed and still without his touch, you stumble through your words, “Keep… Keep trying.” 

He smirks. “Don’t have to.” 

Confident and annoyingly satisfied, Yoongi walks backward to the doorway, cloth in hand and wink at the ready. “Thanks for this,” he says before making his way back into the hallway, and it takes you way too long to realize he mirrored exactly what he said earlier. 

You have to grip the sink to compose yourself. 

He’s much better at this than you are. 

But as much as you hate this damn game, you aren’t losing. Not after letting all these tiny moments alone pass by. These kisses never brought to fruition. 

Yoongi’s gonna regret ever doing this whole thing. 

You zip through your brain, grasping for a new plan old plan any plan…

Before marching right to the kitchen fridge.

“Ooh, I want one!” 

“Damn, why didn’t you bring these out sooner?” 

Shoulders raised, you apologize, “My bad. I was way too busy with cooking that I just forgot.” 

“Mmm,” Reia sighs in relief. “This is perfect for today.” 

Opening the loud package in your hands, you agree, loving the way red popsicles glisten in sunlight. 

Are you gonna admit to your friends that you’re only using these as payback? Maybe later. 

But for now, all you’re focused on is revenge. Sweet, delicious, icy revenge. 

And what better way to incite it than to throw a cheeky look at the man across the yard, pushing the ice lolly into your mouth painfully, disrespectfully slow.

Fucking hell. 

This might need to be something you do in private, too. 

Because the way he’s reacting is causing all sorts of nasty thoughts to flood your brain. And your core. 

Shit, he’s not hiding the fact he’s watching you at all. 

You need to look away. You have to. You must. 

But you’re completely lost in the fire of his gaze, swirling your tongue over the top of your popsicle and sucking on all the juice slipping down in the heat. 

When he snaps his head to look back toward his friends, the haze around your vision shatters, and you can clearly hear your friends talking again. 

“I thought Rohan always came to these things.” 

“He does! He just said he’d be late, but.. I didn’t think he’d be this late.” 

Is Yoongi delighted? Agitated? You know you would be both of those things, and you know you would also blaze a trail through the whole backyard if you so much saw him licking an ice pop right now. 

The thought alone is causing your breath to hitch, some red liquid sliding down your chin when you forget to lap it up. 

“Whoa, here’s a napkin,” Reia offers out of nowhere, and you whip your head sideways to take it with haste. 

“Thanks.” 

“You okay?” she asks in a concerned whisper, and you’re so caught off-guard that you stop just to stare at her searching eyes. “You just seem out of it.” 

“Oh,” you cough out, regarding your popsicle before licking a little more of it. “Just, umm. Thinking about things.” 

“Like your secret man?” 

Since her naturally quiet voice gets overshadowed by all the other party sounds, you’re confident no one else heard. Which takes away all the anxiety and leaves you touched that she’s considerate enough to check on your mental state. 

“Yeah, actually,” you smile with sorrow. “Wish he could be here. Doing all this with us.” 

Technically, you aren’t lying. You really do wish Yoongi could sit next to you right now, too, conversing with your friends and enjoying the simple things together. 

“Maybe he can one day,” Reia hopes, blue ice pop shining cerulean in the Sun. “When both of you are ready.” 

Is that the case now? Are either of you ready?

Red, icy sugar glides down your fingers, and you give your handsome opponent one last look.

Maybe you should’ve given up on this little war a lot sooner. 

Because not giving in feels like a total loss. 

“...Yeah.” 

It isn’t much longer before the Sun retreats into the horizon, and you admire the sunset painting the sky. 

Pool vacated, everyone’s now eating dinner around the seating areas, each cushion occupied while multiple others stand around with plates or phones in hand. 

While you’re still with your friends, you catch Yoongi sitting in a single chair by your brother, brushing his hair back and laughing while they’re telling stories and shedding pool water. 

Heart being tugged to his again, you excuse yourself with host duties, “Gonna clean up some.” 

“Need help?” 

“I’m good for now.” 

After gathering trash from around the tables, you walk up to the main congregation, taking their plates before asking who won the volleyball match earlier. 

“We did, actually,” your sibling puffs with pride. 

“Yeah, after you cheated.” 

“Did not!” 

You disrupt the argument he and Jimin are about to get into with an ask, “Help me get the trash from everyone, yeah?” 

“Now? I’m still eating.” 

Garbage bag limp in your hands, you sigh. “You’re also the host, dude.” 

Since you’re prepared for another weak response, you’re pleasantly surprised when he relents, “Okay, yeah. Just gimme a second.” 

Honestly? You’ll take it. 

He’s clearly in a good mood if he didn’t give you more than one excuse to not do something. 

Placated, you start making your way around the group to collect trash, and everything is completely fine until your blood runs completely cold. 

“Alright, Min. You gotta tell us now.” 

“Huh?”

“Dude. Your back looks fucked.”

Oh. Shit. 

Shit, shit, shit, there’s no way he can fight the allegations now.  

Another friend in the seating area starts laughing his ass off. “You saw that, too? I thought I was the only one!” 

“We all saw.” 

“Bro, his shoulders look like Picasso.” 

“What?” 

“Picasso?” 

“It’s Jackson Pollack, you idiot.” 

Laugh. Laugh with everyone you cannot be the only one silent.

No one can know you’re absolutely mortified.  

“Man, you know I don’t know shit about art.” 

Shiv immediately scrunches his face in laughter. “No need to keep proving that, though!” 

Goddamn it, this would all be so much funnier if it wasn’t precarious! Your cheeks are hurting from more than just bursts of amusement, and even Yoongi looks a bit bothered through all the laughs. 

“He’s been real quiet lately is all I’m saying.” 

A girl you can’t remember the name of speaks up, “Even Reece said she heard some girls talking about you.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you! ‘Yoongi won’t text me,’ ‘he hasn’t been anywhere,’ shit like that. No one’s heard from you in like weeks.” 

Simmering down, Yoongi only points to his coworkers. “I’m busy with them.” 

Good. Yes. Work. The studio. Perfect. 

…Why are Hoseok and Namjoon looking at each other like that? 

Even Jungkook tries his best to hold in a laugh, but fails miserably when they all break at once.

When your brother’s brows shoot into his head, you feel a piece of your sanity chip off and fly away in the summer breeze. 

Fuck. What now?

Hobi covers his mouth with a hand as he turns to the other two. “So it wasn’t just me?” 

“No, we saw it, too.” 

“On his neck, right?”

On his… Oh, for the love of—

Your brain’s running three laps a second as even louder shouts resonate, and you dread the noise complaints you’re probably gonna receive if this doesn’t stop.  

“Liar!” 

“Told y’all!”

“This dude, I swear.”

There was a night where you think you went too hard. But that was after a long ass day, and you knew the two of you didn’t have enough time. 

And you couldn’t resist the sounds he made.

But he never said anything about it after that, so you thought everything was fine. 

Your brother is at his wit’s end. “Who the fuck are they?” 

“And what’s her at.”

Yoongi sits back in his chair before brushing his hair, and you have a sinking feeling that he’s legitimately frustrated. “No one you know,” is all he says, and everyone throws imaginary tomatoes. 

“Wait, wait, wait, so this is a regular thing?” 

“Nah. You know he can’t do that anymore.” 

Shiv isn’t having any of it. His smile is full of glee when he points at Yoongi’s cheek prod, “Look at his face! It is!” 

“Gatekeeping like a motherfucker.” 

“Whipped as fuck.” 

Oh, you’re gonna be sick. 

You need to leave before you hear anything else. This is making your head spin so fast you may start leaking smoke from your ears.  

Go inside. Or somewhere else. Anywhere else. 

Excusing yourself from your chair, you start stepping inside the house.

“Are you coming back out?” 

Stopping, you turn, noticing Jimin resting his head back to look your way. 

And you don’t want to notice if anyone else is looking when you answer. “Uh, I might. Why?” 

“Can you get my camera? It’s in my backpack in the guest room.” 

He brought a camera today? With a nod, your thoughts get a nice reprieve, because you think the gesture is kinda endearing. 

“Thank you! It’s the one on the bed.” 

When you open the guest bedroom, you can finally breathe again. 

Looks like Park redeemed himself sending you on this errand. 

There’s two backpacks lying about, and you chuckle when you wonder why he even needed to specify which one was his. Judging by the looks alone, you could definitely pick it out no problem. 

Damn, you hope you don’t see anything you shouldn’t. Even though Jimin of all people probably wouldn’t care, this is still a bag that isn’t yours, so you hope you just find what you need right away. 

Unzipping the biggest pocket, you peer inside before sighing in relief, fishing out the Polaroid and realizing that you’ve seen this before. 

Wait.

Is this…?

Memories carve a warm smile into your face, pushing your current worries away with ease and relaxing your shoulders in seconds. 

“He still has this?” 

You inspect the sturdy device, transferring it from hand to hand and admiring it from all sides. 

Times when he would take pictures of your brother and his friends came back to you like faded snapshots, and you yearn for the days when your only responsibility was timing them as they raced down your street, hair and breaths whipping wildly in the daze of summer. 

They’re all here again. 

You wonder if Jimin knew that was gonna be the case. 

There’s a buzzing in your pocket when you move to leave, and you stop to set the camera down on the bed before checking your phone. 

Taeee😪 [8:23pm]: Where are you? 

You [8:23pm]: inside. why ?

Taeee😪 [8:23pm]: He just went in to change. 

Okay? 

With a blink, you wonder why you needed the update—

Taeee😪 [8:24pm]: Make it quick. 

Huh? 

Before you could send a text back, you hear footsteps near the doorway, and your head snaps up to see a sun-soaked Yoongi enter the room. 

Both of you equally surprised to see each other. 

Wait. Is the other backpack—

Your greeting falls right from your lips when you get caught in the way he walks right towards you, eyes unwavering and steps purposeful enough to choke you up.

Fuck it. You don’t care anymore. Not about this stupid game or the people outside or keeping your distance because you just—

His hands grip your face before he claims your lips, shocking you into an equally strong reaction. Because how he’s kissing you mirrors exactly how you’ve felt this entire day—wild, frustrated, desperate. 

Maybe he regretted the bet as much as you did this entire time.

For a moment—just one—you’ve shifted into another universe. One where the passion between you is completely normal to everyone, not just the two of you. 

One day, one day, one day soon, maybe that can happen in this universe, too. 

But there’s too much in the way right now, and that fact alone is why you pull away, breath quickened and heart beating like summer storms. 

And you finally surrender out loud. 

“You win,” you whisper, clutching his damp top and squeezing until your palm is leaking. “I don’t care anymore, you win.” 

Your words are swallowed by another heartstopping press of his lips, and you clutch at his shoulders and despise how you’re instinctively not letting your nails touch him. 

“I lost a long time ago,” he admits while still holding you close. “Gonna give you a goddamn popsicle every chance I get.” 

Your chuckle is tiny. “Can you taste it?” 

“Dunno. Lemme try again.” 

He swoops in before you can laugh, but while you’re breaking down at the way his tongue swipes at yours, you still keep watch at the door, nerves on high alert and stomach in a frenzy. 

“Baby,” you whisper, kissing him back when he gives another peck. “I gotta go.” 

“One more.” 

“Babe—”

Incoming Call: Taeee😪

You give him a warning look before you answer, but you should’ve distanced yourself because this man has the audacity to grope your ass right as you speak, 

“Hey.” 

“Hey. You find the Polaroid?” 

Trying to move Yoongi’s hands away, you mouth for him to stop but wither at his smug ass face. “Yeah, I did.”

“Oh, good. Bring it out.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” you respond, hanging up and grinning at the troublemaker with a playful shove. “You fucker!” 

All he does is laugh, and you know your glare has no heat behind it as you grab Jimin’s camera, finally walking around him. “Go change already. Tired of you.” 

“Told you.” 

“Whatever.” 

He retrieves his bag leaning against the bed, and you’re almost out the door before looking out into the hallway. 

Back to Yoongi. 

Once more to the hallway. 

Yeah, fuck it, you need this. 

You bolt back home, wings flapping in your chest when he drops the backpack and crushes your little hop in one last hug. His grin makes this kiss one of the ones you’ll remember forever, and you wanna etch the way his damp hair feels in your fingers right alongside it. 

Summer kisses. 

They might be your absolute favorites.

“Okay, now I’ll go.” 

“Cute ass.” 

When you chuckle, he looks at you in silence, and you ask a serious question out of the blue because you suddenly have to know, 

“Are you upset?”

And his answer follows without pause, 

“Not anymore.” 

“Okay...” 

“Promise, doll.”

Relieved, you rest your head against him when you ask another question burning your brain,

“Do you like this dress or the other one?” 

“On you? Any fuckin’ one.” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“Don’t care.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you smile and make your leave for real, leaving him with one more thought because he’s left you with a thousand, 

“Good thing I have more.” 

He blinks where he stands. 

“I’m gonna keep wearing them until you pick.” 

Jimin is all smiles and smugness when you approach him, and you prod him with a joking glare when he asks if you had trouble during your search. 

But he just grins in return before gathering everyone in the seated areas, 

“Okay, everyone up!” 

“Huh?”

“Why?”

“Picture time, my pretties.” 

Groans bubble from multiple chairs and lounges, but Jimin is nothing if stubborn. He only giggles through closed lips before scooting his chair away, 

“Just for a second! We haven’t had this many of us together in awhile.” 

Seokjin pipes up while sidestepping his seat, “How do you know?” 

“What?”

“We could’ve been together without you,” he points out, and holds in amusement at the utter look of despair on the younger one’s face. “I’d show proof but we didn’t take pictures.” 

You break into a smile when your brother laughs along with his cheeky friend, and he shuffles with all the people trying to gather in a group. 

While you make heart eyes at the way Yeontan rests in Taehyung’s arms, Jimin walks back to you and asks in a hushed voice, 

“Do you mind?”

“No, I got you,” you assure, and you walk some distance between them and the pool, watching them cover the house windows with wet hair and damp swimwear or towels. A smattering of conversation skitters around as they scoot and find their spots, and Hoseok’s the first one to suggest moving the lounge chairs in front so some can sit down. 

“Levels, levels—ah, see? Better!” He calls a few people to the front after some volunteer, and laughs when your brother begrudgingly takes center seat. “It’s your house!” 

“So? I’m more of a standing guy.” 

Hobi goes to counter before Yoongi steps out the back door, and everyone turns and yells his name. 

You don’t even get time to inwardly cry at his fresh black fit before your sibling pleads, 

“Yoong, come here. Be in front with me.” 

“Uhh, pass?”

“Nah, come on. Right here.” 

As he ambles over, you let out a quiet laugh as you stand with the camera, Dom and Yuri directing people to shuffle in more on each side. 

“You, what’s your name?” 

You follow Dominique’s finger to see who she’s addressing, smiling wide when he stutters out, 

“Who, me?”

“Yeah.” 

“Shiv.” 

“Okay, well your name is Shimmy right now so do that. In more.” 

Yoongi and a few others burst into grins at her command, turning to watch the flustered man hold in a laugh and do exactly that. 

“Okay, good,” Dom says after you confirm you can see everyone, holding a thumbs-up. “We’re good, now nobody move.” 

Jimin straightens and addresses the whole group while you line up the frame, 

“Okay, we only get one chance for these. No funny business.” 

“Everyone look away.” 

“No!” 

Giggling, you wait for them to settle, your brother and Yoongi endearingly leaning forward with elbows on their knees. Everyone assumes grins or close-mouthed smiles, and you count down before taking what you think is a very memorable photo. 

“That was good!” you comment, and everyone sighs in relief while moving away. 

“Wait, wait! You should all be in one, too!” 

“Us?” 

Jimin motions you in. “Yes! I’ll take it.” 

“I got it,” Jungkook volunteers in your stead, and you regard him with a small look of surprise. 

He did love holding the camera back then. 

So you hand it over with a small thank you, and all of you join the group. 

Of course, your plan is to head right to the back, but your brother calls you all the way out, 

“Uh uh! If I’m in the center, so are you.” 

“Me?”

You groan when he waves you over, and you sit on his side opposite his best friend, hating that you’re so exposed in the front. 

But Yoongi suddenly leans forward to address you with a question you don’t expect, “Are you gonna poke him or should I?”

“Don’t either of you fucking dare.” 

You disregard your sibling immediately, barely touching his side before he flinches, 

“Stop!”

Your laugh comes out in a blown raspberry, and Yoongi’s sounds the exact same before he straightens forward,

“Alright, fine. We’re chill.” 

But ever the devious one, he ends up poking your brother anyway. 

And what’s immortalized in one of Jimin’s photos is your shared laugh with everyone else as your blurry sibling is halfway springing out of his seat.

Once all the photos are taken, everyone is nice enough to help clean up the yard before funneling inside for game night, though some people head out with warm goodbyes. 

After awhile, the house is almost cleared aside from the few that are a little too far gone. They’re forced to stay over, or find another way home, courtesy of your brother, 

“Y’all can leave, but you aren’t driving.” 

“Bro, I got work tomorrow.” 

“Should’ve figured that out! Call a ride then.” 

“Fine.” 

Apparently, Yoongi was going to stay either way, and you find him and your brother out back after everyone left or passed out throughout the house. 

Both of their heads turn as you step out the door, and you notice they’re simply lounging around, playing some super old, chill tracks from when you were all kids. 

As much as you wanna sit with them, too, they look like they’re in the middle of legitimate bro talk. So you suck it up. “Gonna head to bed now.” 

Yoongi regards you while your brother says goodnight, and you comment on the day while trying not to choke at the way he’s treating whatever he’s got in his mouth, “That was a fun one.” 

Fuck, is that a lollipop?

Where the hell did he even get one of those? 

Your sibling agrees immediately. “It was, huh. That was the best party we’ve thrown in a minute.” 

“No problem children this time.” 

“Exactly.” 

Your current problem still doesn’t talk, but you wanna hear his voice one last time. And you hate how distant he has to be in times like this. “Well, y’all have fun. Are you staying?” 

Yoongi pauses before responding around his candy, “Uhh, yeah.” 

But it’s enough for you. “Okay. I’m gonna be up early, so. Sorry if I wake you.” 

When he takes the lolli out of his mouth with a pop, you almost regret this quick conversation. “S’okay.” 

Shit, is this how he felt earlier? Because you’ve never been so delightfully agitated before. “Okay. Night, y’all.” 

He offers a lazy wave of the candy while your brother’s a lot louder, “Night!” 

And your walk through the house is the most quiet it’s been all day, accompanied only by low voices and music moving like molasses through glass windows. 

the crack babies [Now]: 5 New Messages 

Taeee😪 [1:20am]: 1 Attachment 

Taeee😪 [1:20am]: So spoiled…

bibi’s whore [1:01am]: you can text your secret man now !!

Checking your lock screen, you fake a groan at Reia’s message, smiling at your phone as you close your door. 

Taehyung gets emoji spam when you open his thread to see Yeontan taking a soapy bath, and you open your group chat last. 

jackson trash [12:51am]: Made it home. I don’t know how I ever stayed out so late, y’all, I am tired! This is ridiculous. 

bibi’s whore [1:03am]: made it ! awhh, dom, you could’ve left sooner

jackson trash [1:05am]: I was going to if I didn’t keep winning lol 

dpr doormat [1:32am]: made it back💛

dpr doormat [1:32am]: that was so funnnnn!!

You send your own goodnight text to the group before plugging your device to charge and, with a huge sigh, you make your way into your bathroom to finally unwind. 

Minutes later in a warm shower, you think about many things. Like how good it felt to see everyone together, and how comfortable you feel knowing that both your brother and Yoongi are in the house. 

The second thought is one you can’t fully explain, but your heart is definitely warmer. It’s almost fact that you can’t be any safer than this. 

Your happy curve is shrouded by steam.

Thinking over today, it’s a miracle there weren’t any huge snags. There have been incidents before during big get-togethers like this—granted, they happened at houses other than yours—so you’re counting this as a win. 

Regardless. Parties are always a nice break from the monotonous nights you and your brother would spend alone. 

Rinsing soap from your sunkissed arms, you wonder what would happen if that wasn’t the case anymore. If Yoongi could spend more nights here, too, filling a void that has been looming over these walls ever since…

Your eyes watch soap and water slip into the shower drain.  

And after standing for an eternity, you have to remind yourself to blink. 

It’s not long until you’re snuggled under your covers, every limb in your body relieved to be at rest. From getting ready, cooking for hours, to general host duties—all while trying to avoid sin in human form—you’ve completely exhausted your living battery. 

But for some reason, you can’t seem to achieve sleepiness. 

Tiredness? For sure. But sleep seems to elude you, and you toss and turn before giving up and turning your television on. 

It’s after you get through two episodes of something random and a fortieth Tiktok video—or hundred and fortieth but who can possibly count—that you get a text. 

From the last person that should be texting you right now.

And your heart slams on every brake it has.

Yoongi [2:37am]: You up?  

—

—

—

fin. :)

—

…or is it?

how was it !! do we want more ? 💌 would you like to buy me a 🍊?

A/N: OK LISTEN. I HAVE A PROPOSITION. so when i was writing this, i also wrote a lot of the continuation. but, i’m only gonna work on the rest of it seriously if y’all really want it. i gotta prioritize where i put my energy! if you want whatever the fresh hell happens next (spoiler alert: it’s smut, the working title is called “lollipop,” and i have about 2k written already but it could be 5-6k if i finished it out.) let me know - however you want to, i’m not picky! messages, comments, reblogs, feedback form, etc.   A/N 2: again, huge ass thank you to everyone supporting this whole journey. i know i say that a lot but i legitimately mean it, and i mean it when i say that this whole thing wouldn’t be possible without you all here to cheer me and these characters on. remember that. and remember that i love you endlessly!  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist 

[pennyellee]

preview of chapter IV

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, blood, incision wound, fictive mafia clan traditions, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, threats, intimate encounter, kissing

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 744

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

author's note: and scene! chapter four is coming soon :))) meanwhile thirst over Kkangpae Min and his soon to be Buin...more will be yours at the end of this month ♥

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV

“—and?” Yoongi asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, a sight she had seen far too often for her liking. He was not shy with her; he could easily undress before her without a second thought. His attempts to walk in on her while she was changing didn't go unnoticed either, though she made sure to show her displeasure by throwing vases at him to keep him out.

Only now did Y/N remember the glass of alcoholic beverage that Namjoon had offered her, remaining untouched in her hands. She decided to take a sip, trying to ease her nerves before the conversation she was dreading.

“—and everything went well, as expected,” said Namjoon observing her as she downed the burning soju.

“Send telegraph to Wang and other families. We’re leaving for Chosen in two hours.” Y/N straightened herself, eyes wide open in disbelief.

“W-what do you mean in two hours?” She stammered. It was just past eight when she gazed at the clock on the wall. That would mean they'd depart at ten and arrive in Seoul around midnight.

"—I thought they just cleared the way. Why are we—" Yoongi cut her off abruptly. "I am waiting no more," he said firmly, locking his gaze with hers, leaving her in shock once again.

"On your way, please inform the maids to pack, and I want the cabin ready," Yoongi instructed Namjoon, who memorized every task with a sense of responsibility, seemingly disregarding Y/N's shattered spirit in the wake of this sudden rush.

“Can we at least talk about it?!” she raised her voice, causing the two men to stop in their tracks. They exchanged knowing looks, making it clear that this was non-negotiable. Yoongi clicked his tongue, biting his cheeks from inside, then turned to face his fiancée with a deceptive sweetness in his tone.

"Of course, my love," he said.

He nodded to Namjoon, who immediately took off, glancing at Y/N with a silent reminder to behave.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly as if this were a perfectly normal scenario.

“I don’t know, do you think this is right?” Y/N kept her tone tense, signalling her discontent.

“Nothing is more right than this,” he answered, pouring himself a drink while taking her empty glass and refilling it with soju.

"Yoongi—" she began to protest, but he didn't let her speak further, having heard her excuses countless times.

“No Y/N. I’m not negotiating this time. We’re getting married tomorrow afternoon and that’s final,” he stated sternly.

"You could at least wait a day! Do you think everyone will just jump because you said it's happening right now? And more importantly, let me mentally prepare for it?!” Her frustration grew, and she gestured wildly, almost knocking over the refilled glass that Yoongi handed her.

“They are already in town. The telegraph is just a confirmation that it will happen tomorrow.” Her distress and panic were understandable; she had believed she had more time than a few hours.

“And you didn’t think of telling me first?!” she raised her voice even higher. That she was in distress and panic was very understandable. Y/N thought she had more time than a few hours.

“No, because you were finally letting me in—” said he, downing the contents of his glass in one go.

“You knew this would happen for a month, and you would have had more time to prepare yourself if running away fifteen hundred times a day wouldn’t be on your mind,” he fired back, raising his voice at her, and immediately asserting dominance.

"I'm getting very tired of this. One step forward and ten million miles back, damn it!" he cursed, slamming the glass down on his desk in frustration. The tension in the room was palpable, and Y/N felt her heart sinking as she realized that her hopes of a slower pace for their relationship had been shattered.

“I have a very easy solution to that—” she said, raising herself to stand up to him.

“—Let me go,” she emphasized every single word, her frustration boiling over, and momentarily forgetting about her deal with Namjoon.

Her emotions were running high, and she went to pull the ring off to prove her point, but he forcefully grabbed her right hand, stopping her in her tracks. Anger filled his eyes as he crossed his other hand, grabbed her by the back of her neck, and crashed his lips onto hers, pressing their bodies against the nearest wall.

.

.

.

.

coming soon

©pennyellee. please do not repost

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17 - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss

[kikiswriting7]

Take a Chance ✵ JJK ✵ MYG - 1

✵ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

✵Summary: Y/N just move across the world to start her University. She is paired with a roommate who is complete social butterfly and makes a bet, Y/N needs to take more chances. And at the hint of her new found friend, her social and romantic life take a dramatic turn.

✵Tags/Warnings: Smut, College AU, red flag, sexual tension. angst, dirty talking, drinking, friends with benefits, full of cliches, friends to lover, swearing

✵Notes: Hi Guys this is my first time posting my story on Tumblr! I will be cross posting on AO3 if you prefer that platform! Maybe it will be nice posting here so I can keep you guys updated more easily! Let me know if you like it !! :)

CHAPTER 1 - LEAP INTO THE UNKNOWN

Moving to a new country had been a daunting adventure from the start. With my entire support system living on the other side of the world navigating the first week of university life in a foreign land seem like an uphill battle. Yet, here I was, embarking on this journey of self-discovery in a sea of uncertainty.

Apparently, Thursday nights were the start of an early weekend, and as this is the first Thursday after classes had started, the night was alive with the promise of excitement. House parties dotted the entire neighborhood, begging the passers to shed their inhibitions and embrace the spirit of youthful abandon. Gabi, my roommate, is wasting no time in dragging me along to what she states is her “best friends” party – a term I can only imagine she uses loosely, considering she just met them.

“C’mon Y/N, you’ll have fun too!” Gabi wrapped her arms around my shoulders as we made our way down the street, the pulsating beats of music guiding our way. “You gotta live a little girl! Take some questionable chances!”

Even though already halfway intoxicated, Gabi’s enthusiasm was infections, however I can't help but worry about the trouble her reckless proposition might invite. “So I should just roll the dice on whether I will manage to arrive back to our dorm in one piece? How the hell do you even do it?” I question her, struggling to keep her upright on the uneven pavement.

But Gabi is unphased by almost falling face first into the pavement. “Let’s do a bet!” She exclaimed. Oh God here it comes “If I see that you are holding back I’ll scream “DICE!” and you need to roll with it and take the chance”

“Gabi, it’s not a bet if I don’t win anything from it, you are just telling me to do probably something stupid.” I retorted, bracing myself for inevitable chaos that awaited for me.

Before I can protest further, a voice called out from the front door, drawing Gabi’s attention away. Hopefully she will soon forget about this conversation and just party her way through the night.

Arriving at the house, she basically jumps in the arms of the man standing there and gives him a tight hug. “Y/N this is Jin! Jin this is Y/N! She is my roommate and he is already a third year student, yada yada yada. Presentations done. Let’s go party!!” she says that too fast to basically even matter but he still takes the time to give a small greeting smile before entering the house first. Gabi pulls my hand to come with her but before we fully enter, she turns around “who said you will not win anything from it?” and winks before pushing people out of her way.

Iside the house, the scene is more chaotic then it seemed from the outside. There is a blend of dim lights, sticky floors and rancous laughter coming from the beer bong table set up in one of the corners of the room. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and anticipation as I follow Gabi’s lead into the heart of the party,

Gabi made her way into the kitchen to grab something that would increase the level of alcohol in her blood, but not like she is needing it. She is tiny, but she drinks like a professional. I, on the other hand, am a very light weight, but no way close to being drunk enough to handle this party by myself.

I wouldn’t say the party was bad, I see some people from classes that we took through the week and exchanged a few words through the week. You end up in a small group with Eli, who is also from the new semester you recognized, Gabi and Jin. Jin is funny, his easygoing demeanor and infection laughter is putting me at ease, if only for a moment. Until he handed tops my cup with more wine and says “I think it’s time for some beer pong.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this, guys” I protest weekly, eyeing the table.

“and you will never be unless you play” Eli laughs

“I have never even played this before…”

“Lets do it like this, since its duos Gabi goes with Eli, and you go with me. Trust me I’ve been doing for three years; we can do this!” and lifts my own hand to high five him. The girls already excited to be playing a drinking game, are giggling making their way to the table and set up their side.

“You know how the rules work right? Just aim the ball in the cup if it goes in, they drink!” he then hands you one of the ping pong balls and says louder “the loser has to take shots!” Ok, so let’s not loose. The first ball that you throw goes in and Jin makes a bigger deal than what it is and gives you a massive high five. “I though you never played this before!” Gabi screams from the other end laughing before taking a big sip from her cup. You are at a point that now both you and Jin are screaming and hugging if one of you gets the ball in, attracting some looks to the table.

“Let’s go Jin, no pressure but this is our win! Only one left!!” I try to hype him up, and jump from side to side waiting for this throw. The game was intense and was one cup versus one cup and now, after so many big gulps of your drink, you just wanted to win.

Everyone is holding their breath, and once he’s about to throw someone drops a bottle and it splatters on the floor taking away his concentration. He misses the shot.

The girls on the other end immediately throw their shot and it goes in.

“This is not fair! I lost my concentration!” He immediately jumps and points to the table.

“We need another shot! Was not fair!”  You add on to his complains.

“Besties, the only shot you are getting is tequila, since we WON! HA” Gabi laughs and does her victory dance with Eli. Rolling your eyes you follow them to the corner of the living room where a small table had random drinks. “What are you staring at Eli? ” You casually ask while Gabi is pouring your shot “Hey! That’s enough! That’s why more than a shot!”

“Oops” she giggles

“Ok, Don’t look now but there’s this guy sitting at the kitchen counter, I think he’s also from our semester, and he’s so cute! I noticed him looking while we were playing beer pong and, oh my god, I want him” she loudly whispers. And as if she said, “look now!” all three of us search for the man sitting in the kitchen counter. He was surrounded by people and was making everyone laugh. It was like he was the sun, and the rest were pulled into his orbit.

And all three of you, each receive a slap on the arm from Eli and snap all of you out from staring at the man.  “Oohh! Someone has a crush!” Jin replies winning him another slap on the arm “yeah he’s also new,  His name is JungKook, he lives in the same house as me. We can walk over there and you can talk to him, if you want” he adds on.

“Oh my god, you are an angel! Now both of you, drink! Drink!” you roll your eyes and laugh and as an instinct you look the direction of the man you were just talking about, and you lock eyes. He basically stares into your soul. Fuck, he was cute. And he was hot. Very hot. For some reason you cannot stop staring back and he gives a side grin that makes your heart skip a beat while you take your shot.

The act seems to be gone unnoticed by your friends as they already were changing the subject and dragging you along somewhere. When you realize they where they were going. They were going straight to Mr Hot guy. Fuck. You quickly turn to Jin, as the other two were giggling ahead making their way closer and closer.

 “Uh where are going? I thought we were fine where we were…” he drops his arm around your shoulder and pulls you a bit closer “Gabi took a bet with Eli that she needed to go talk to him and if she did she would buy her coffee for a week. And, as I know them, she said “yeah why not””

He made way and went to say hi to his friends who are here and introduce the girls and me. Jesus what was in the water they were drinking? Looking around you could only notice that all the boys that are here are actually really pretty. The beauty real state in this 3sqm space was through the roof. Even Jin is pretty, you came to notice. Each of the guys introduced themselves. Jimin, is the one with blond hair and Taehyung said something in his ear that made the first one laugh. Then there is Namjoon who just casually smiled and went back to being busy going through his phone. And there was him, who while you were saying niceties to the others has a burning stare to your face.

“I am JungKook nice to meet you” he stated while he jumped off the kitchen counter with such ease that the movement was smooth, like he did this a million times. And honestly, wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did.  Gabi talked first taking his attention and introduced herself. You both had unconsciously grabbed Eli, one from each side, and when he turns back at me and is going to speak, I say first, “and this is Eli!” giving Gabi the opening to pinch her side for her to speak, but a squeak comes out first. It also earns Gabi a side eye.

“Hi I think we are in the same semester! I really like your tattoos!” She points out to his arm.

“I’ll go get some more wine” You gesture to Gabi she nods. I will definitely use this as an opportunity to run away from this uncortable situation. You make your way to the small area with the drinks to fill your cup with more wine, when Gabi suddenly shows up next to you. “Girl why are you taking so loooong. I hate third wheeling.”  She complains taking the cup out of your hand and taking a sip.

“You were not third wheeling, and I was not taking long, I literally just left” I state removing her little claws from my drink  “ besides, you had like 5 hot guys around you”

“First of all, ew, Jin is like a brother, JK is occupied someone else,” she winks “Joon could care less if I dropped dead in front of him, and the other two barely spoke a word to us. Therefore, I rather be with you. Second, don’t forget we still have a bet. I need to find a questionable decision for you tonight” all you can do is sigh. I find it incredible how she basically just met half of these people and is already on nicknames.

“You know what, I think I need a smoke. Come outside with me.” She doesn’t even give you the time to respond and is already dragging me with her to the backside of the house before I could even respond.

We slip away from the crowded room, where I lean the side of my shoulder against the wall while Gabi lits up the cigarette that she’d snagged from a random girl that was going back inside.“I think I’m going to leave soon Gabi”I say, my exhaustion and the buzz of the alcohol making me feel unsteady. “I am super tired and a little bit drunk. Maybe we should leave together?”

Before Gabi could reply, a voice, not entire unfamiliar, interrupts her, a hand resting lightly on the low of my back. Startled, I stumble a feet backward, hitting against the man. Turning around quickly I find myself face to face with Jungkook.

“Sorry to startle you” he says with a soft smile, his presence both comforting and disconcerting at the same time.

Unable to find my own voice, I turn to Gabi, whose mischievous grin is way too telling. With a final drag of her cigarette, she simply says “Dice…” with a very dramatic and theatrical pause, and adds “I love you, but I’m going to go find Jin. I’m so not ready to go home yet. Catch you later!” With a wink, she dissapears back into the ongoing party.

“So, Dice… You are also new to school I’ve heard.” He asks, his tone friendly but flirty.

“Oh, you’ve been asking around about me?” I blurted out. And I immediately regret my lack of filter. It must definitely is the alcohol. No, more drinking around cute men, I scold myself. Focus.

“Maybe a little” he admits with a chuckle “So, why Dice?”

“Gabi thinks I should roll the Dice and take more chances” The words slipping out of my mouth before I could stop them. Why cant I be quiet for five seconds?

He wrinkled his nose and laughed. Taking step closer while I instinctively took a step back, only to find myself trapped between him and the wall. Determined to not show any weakness, I arch an eyebrow and stare at him defiantly.  

Seemingly unfazed, he takes this as a challenge and leans closer. I guess two can play this game.

“Why don’t you take more of those then?” He asks and the scent of his cologne is intoxicating. I have to fight the urge to not bury my nose on his collar. No, I must actually be going clinically insane. What the hell am I even thinking?

Before things could escalate, I quickly slip away from the place that I was being cornered not two seconds ago, making a hasty retreat. “It was nice talking to you Jungkook, but I am so tired” I fake a yawn as I back away towards the door.

All I got from him was a puzzled and amused look as a reply. So as I turn around to enter and collide straight on another dude. Equally handsome and equally well-scented as JungKook. What the hell is up with these people?

“I’m so sorry! Didn’t mean to run into you!” I stammered, doing my best to make sure I hadn’t spilled anything on him.

“Hey, its ok! Don’t worry about it!  Are you ok?” He asks concerned etched into his face. Meanwhile I can still feel Jungkook checking the interaction from where I left him so I couldn’t help but quickly glance at him. He looked…worried?

“I’m fine I, uh, just need to find my friends.” I reply, eager to escape Jungkooks scrutiny” I think it’s time to go home”

“Then let me help you find them yeah? I’m also searching for my friends, kind of done with this party anyway.” He offers and offers me to lead the way.

As we navigate through the rooms that were thumping with the bass of the songs, I cannot shake the weird feeling JungKook left me with. Great. He’s probably going to make fun of me to all his friends now.

“So, what’s your name?” The guy asks closer to me.

“Y/N and yours?” I say looking back over my shoulder

“Yoongi” he just says casually. “so, are you friends with Jungkook?”

“Well friends is a strong word. We just met because of friends in common, I guess. Do you know Jin? He probably knows where my roommate is so we can go home…” you inquire to him.

“Oh, yeah.” He says after a short pause, connecting the dots of the people we are talking about  “Are you roommates with Gabi?” He motions to more or less her height. Why doesn’t he sound like he’s going to deliver good news?

“Yeah, I have the feeling we are talking the same Gabi, so yes, I am.” And you brace for impact.

“Yeah I saw Jin leave with her, I guess to take her home. She got way to drunk way to fast, I guess. They had another girl with them trying to convince her to go.” Yup, sounds like them.

“Yeah she’s tiny but she drinks like a dude that’s 1,90. I’ve never seen anything like it” You laugh looking back at him. His hand rests reassuringly on my back. Nothing like the flirtatious touch of JungKook.

“Let’s get you home. It’s a boring party anyway.”

As Yoongi and I walk together towards my apartment, the night air feels cool against my skin, in stark contrast with the Hot and Humid atmosphere of the house we were in. The breeze caries the faint scent of spring. The moon and the street lamps casting a soft glow over the streets, and any other noises seems to fade as we lose ourselves in conversation.

We talked about everything and nothing, our words weaving a tapestry of shared experiences and dreams. Despite the weight of our respective parental expectations lingering in the background, we managed to keep the mood light, peppering our conversation with laughter and playful banter.

"I'm majoring in Business because it's what my parents want," I confess, feeling a pang of guilt for admitting it out loud. "But sometimes I wonder if it's what I really want."

Yoongi nodds in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I get that. I'm doing music production, but my parents are absolutely against it. They think it's just a hobby, not a real career." He looks sad while kicking a stone out of the way.

His words resonate with me, and for a moment, I feel seen by him. We are both struggling to reconcile our own desires with the expectations placed upon us by others.

"Cheers to a fun ride," Yoongi said, raising his cup of water in a mock toast, a wry smile playing on his lips.

I clinked my cup against his, returning his smile with a grateful one of my own. Despite the uncertainties that lay ahead, there was a sense of camaraderie between us, a shared understanding that we were in this together.

The walk passed quicker than I would've liked, and before I knew it, we were standing in front of my apartment building. I turned to face him, the warmth of his presence filling me with a strange sense of comfort.

"Thanks for keeping me company," I said, feeling a rush of gratitude toward him for making the journey home less lonely.

"No problem. Who else would've fought off the wolves for you?" he jokes, his laughter echoing in the quiet night air.

I chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his playful banter. "Guess I would've been a late-night snack without you."

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "No worries. Here to fight any wolves or ghouls. Just give me a call. See you around, Y/N."

As he began to walk away, a sudden impulse seized me, and before I could stop myself, the words spilled from my lips. "How would you know who to call if you can't even contact me?"

To my surprise, Yoongi turned back, a playful grin on his lips as he pulled out his phone and handed it to me. "You could always try the light signal in the sky, but I think this would be easier" he quipped, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

I couldn't help but smile as I entered my number into his phone, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of staying in touch with him. "Talk to you later," I said, handing back his phone before turning to head inside.

His low voice still echoing in my head, the elevator ascends toward my floor, reality crashing back in. Gabi had disappeared, leaving me stranded at a party I never wanted to attend in the first place. Jin's note confirmed my suspicions,

“ Hey, I left Gabi and Eli sleeping in her room. They were quite drunk. I hope you are feeling ok. Sorry to not go find you. Gabi just blacked out and had to carry her home. Let me know if you need help with anything. My phone number is in the back. -Jin”

I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

After a soothing shower to wash away the remnants of alcohol, I settled into bed, reaching for my phone. Sure enough, Yoongi had messaged me, and I couldn't resist staring at his profile picture, a pang of longing stirring within me. His dark long hair falling over in an arch over his forehead, a pair of large headphones hanged over his neck, and he was serious staring at the camera, as if bothered for the person taking his picture. He actually looked very cute, even though he seemed not so happy with the situation.

I quickly remind myself to snap out of it. This was no time for silly crushes. Yoongi might not even find me attractive, and I am getting ahead of myself. With a sigh, I set my phone aside, determined to focus on the present and deal with the complexities of tomorrow when they arrived.

The sudden ping of my phone jolted me back to being awake, the bright screen cutting through the darkness of the room. Blinking groggily, I read the message from Jungkook, confusion clouding my thoughts. Why is he texting me at 3 a.m., and how had he gotten my number?

"Hey,"

the message reads.

"I got your number from the new semester group chat. Sorry if it's weird."

My mind is racing with questions, but before I could formulate a response, another message appeared.

"I was wondering. Do you guys want to go somewhere on Saturday?"

I stare at the screen, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity. Is this the same Jungkook who had cornered me against the wall just  a few hours ago, his gaze intense? What changed?

Honestly, I don’t think its best best to reply immediately, hes definetly drunk, he might delete the messaged by morning and I can pretend I never saw them. I set my phone aside, right now, sleep is calling my name, and I had no intention of ignoring it.

The next morning brought with it a rude awakening, quite literally, as I find Gabi and Eli sitting at the foot of my bed, their voices chattering away in the early morning light.

Groaning, I pull the blanket over my head, hoping to retreat back into the comforting embrace of sleep. "Gabi, aren't you supposed to be dying right now?" I mumble, my voice muffled by the fabric.

But Gabi was undeterred, yanking the blanket off my face with a mischievous grin. "Oh, great, you're awake! We've been waiting all morning for you," she exclaims, her excitement palpable.

I can’t  help but roll my eyes, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as Gabi bounds off the bed to fetch me coffee. "Aren’t you guys supposed to be dying?" I quipped, my words laced with mock incredulity.

As Gabi returned with a steaming cup of coffee, I begrudgingly sat up, preparing myself for the barrage of questions I knew was coming. “Yes we are dying.” She sit back at her spot. “Dying to know what happened last night! Spill it," Gabi demanded eagerly, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Sighing, I recount the events of the previous night, downplaying the encounter with Jungkook as I can feel the somewhat sad gaze from Eli.

"And that was it? How did you get home? Someone told me you left with a guy," Gabi pressed, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip of coffee. "Oh, that? Yeah, while I was trying to ditch Jungkook, I accidentally bumped into this other guy, and he offered to walk me home," I explained, glossing over the details.

But Gabi and Eli are not even close to satisfied with my vague answers, their raised eyebrows and pointing questions forcing me to divulge more than I want to. "Also, Jungkook texted me saying that he wanted to go out and do something on Saturday with us," I add reluctantly under my breath, bracing myself for Gabi's inevitable excitement.

Sure enough, Gabi practically leaps off the bed, her enthusiasm infectious. "BESTIE AND YOU ONLY SAY THAT NOW?" she exclaims, her excitement bubbling over.

Rolling my eyes, I couldn't help but smile at her antics. "Yeah, well, at least I’m saying it now," I muttered, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I guess since he and Eli hit it off last night he might have been to shy to ask her out directly so he messaged me to know”

Eli takes that as her cue to turn bright pink “I mean I saw you guys talking and laughing last night, so I guess that’s why” I say reassuringly at her.

But Gabi isnt deterred, already brainstorming plans for the weekend outing. Despite my reluctance, I couldn't help but want to help my new friend go out with her crush.

“would you like me to try to set up the thing?” I ask Eli casually.

“Honestly, I think it would be nice? He was so sweet the entire time. I think I have a light crush on him…” Obviously that she does, just the mention of him she her face turns the color of a strawberry.

Unlocking my phone, I quickly type out a reply to Jungkook, confirming our plans for Saturday. before you press send, Gabi, who is basically climbing over your shoulder to see the message adds,

“And tell him that we are having pre drinks at our place!” you just side eye her but type the message anyway. As I press send, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within me.

Gabi and Eli practically lunges for my phone as soon as it pinged with a response, their excitement palpable. And as I watched their faces light up with joy, I couldn't help but feel grateful for their friendship and the unexpected adventures that lay ahead.

“Happy?” I trying to sound bored.

“Yes omg you are such a good friend!” she hugs you pulling Eli into the hug as well.

They are both laughing and slapping each other giving each other tiny little shrieks.

“He said” gabi clears her voice and puts a much lower tone “yeah sounds great. I’ll come by at 8 to your place. Send me the address later. See you soon” 

“Ok, now please leave. Today is our first weekday without any classes, and I intend to ride out my hangover," I declare, sinking back into bed with a groan. But before I can fully relax, Eli chimes in.

"Oh yeah, almost forgot. Someone left this in front of the door," she says, pointing to the bottle of medicine for hangovers on the nightstand, a little note still attached that I completely missed.

"Ohhh, was this the mysterious boy..." Gabi begins, but I cut her off, physically dragging both of them out and closing the door to my room behind me.

Taking a deep breath, I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation tinged with apprehension. This is going to be an intense year, that much is certain. Reaching for the little note, I read, "Thought you might need this to fight off those hangover monsters. -Y."

So, it's from him. With a smile, I pick up my phone to text him.

                                         "You really didn't have to, you know?

"Yeah, I know, but couldn't let you fight that hangover alone."

                                          "It's not even that bad. Don't be so dramatic,"

I reply, even though I know it's a blatant lie. Yes, it's bad, but he doesn't have to know that I'm such a lightweight.

"Yeah, sure, tell yourself that if it makes you feel better about it,"

he teases, and I can't help but chuckle.

                                 "Thank you, anyway. Coffee does the trick most of the time though."

"Noted," 

"And it's my pleasure,"

He adds, and with that, our conversation comes to an end. I feel a warmth spread through me at his thoughtfulness. He doesn't send anything else for the rest of the day, and I don't dare to say anything else either.

Now, all that occupies my mind is the meeting with Jungkook tomorrow, which I really don't want to have at my house. But that's a problem for tomorrow. Today, I'm content to nurse my hangover and enjoy the peace and quiet of my room.

Previous ✧ Next

add yourself to the TAGLIST

[rapmonie2047]

Valentine’s Day - MYG

pairing: min yoongi x y/n

genre: fluff, a little suggestive, but really not that much

rating: pg

notes: this is the first drabble i have ever written, so i’m sorry if it sucks lol. not proof read.

plot: y/n has a sweet surprise for yoongi, who has been working so hard, he forgot it was valentine’s day.

The live ended, making you scramble to finish decorating the cake and cleaning up the giant mess that you left in the kitchen. Your phone dings with a new text message from your lovely fiance, Min Yoongi.

“Just finished the live. I’m so tired, but I’m on my way home. Love you x”

The short, but sweet, message only serves to make you even more nervous. Yoongi has been so stressed lately with preparations for the Agust D tour that he just announced, and he needs something to help lift his spirits. Today, well technically yesterday, is Valentine’s Day, a day that you and Yoongi never cared much for, but you felt a little celebration would be fun for the both of you. 

The idea for this celebration came earlier today, meaning that you only had several hours to get everything set up. You quickly baked a red velvet cake that you cut into a heart, and tried, emphasis on tried, to decorate it with a cream cheese frosting you bought at the store. There was no time to let it cool down completely before decorating, so the frosting was starting to drip down the sides in an ugly mess. It should taste good, at least. At least, you hope. 

The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur, and the second you finished wiping down the countertop, the sound of the front door unlocking comes your way. Yoongi, thinking you were asleep due to the late hour, quietly took off his shoes and rushed towards the bedroom to cuddle you while he fell asleep. His journey to your room was quickly cut short when he noticed the light on in the kitchen and the smell of sweet treats filled his nose.

“Jagi?” He walks into the kitchen and sees you with a messy apron on, some frosting on your cheek you probably didn’t even notice was there, and a kind of sad looking cake next to two forks on the counter. “What’s going on?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Yoongs!!” You exclaimed as you walked over to give him a hug. 

Yoongi, not even caring about the frosting that might get onto his clothes, eagerly hugs you back. “I didn’t know you wanted to celebrate or else I would have bought you something.”

“You didn’t have to, love. I know you’ve been working so hard on preparing for your tour, I just wanted to surprise you and show you how much I care about you.”

Yoongi chuckles as he pulls back and wipes the frosting off your cheek, holding his finger out for you to show you what was on your face. In an effort to catch him off guard, you slowly wrap your lips around his thumb and gently suck the frosting off. He groans in surprise, “Y/n, you don’t know what you do to me. Thank you for this. I love you.”

“Love you too, baby,” you laugh with him. “Come on, lets go eat this cake, and then straight to bed you go. We need Agust D in tip top shape for his tour!” You take off your apron and drag Yoongi over to the cake, handing him a fork and starting to dig in.

“What the hell happened to this cake?”

“Shhhh. Just eat.” 

[joylinda-hawks]

Mu Yun Ge, the young leader of the Broken Sword Manor, and Mo Yan Wan, a disciple of the Emei Peak Sect, promise to make love. WOH, Episode 7, Part 2. The groom is led into the main hall by two Grim Reapers. He is handcuffed and gagged. The young man is terrified as he is led before the Tragicomic Ghost. Meanwhile, the guests are a little bored. He is thrown to his knees before the woman in red. A woman's voice announces to welcome the bride. Beauty Ghost enters with a tablet in her hands covered with red cloth. She places it next to the young man and removes the material. It is a commemorative tablet of the disciple of the Emei Peak Sect, Mo Yan Wan. The groom is increasingly terrified and tries to move away from the tablet. Beauty Ghost says that MYG, the young leader of the sect, and MYW, a disciple of the sect, promise to make love. The woman adds that today the matchmaker will be the owner of the Unfaithful List and all the spirits will be witnesses who will celebrate the marriage ceremony of the Mo and Mu families. The Tragicomic Ghost starts clapping. Beauty Ghost continues to say that whether in Heaven or on Earth they should never be separated. MYG is distraught at his helplessness. LQQ says that the first bow is to Heaven and Earth. The White Grim Reaper approaches the groom and forces him to bow. LFM and the others watch silently. LQQ adds that the second bow is to the parents and Ghost forces the groom to bow again, and Beauty Ghost ends that the young couple bows to each other for the third time. Ghost forces MYG to bow for the last time. A voice is heard saying that the ceremony is over. Meanwhile, in the city, ZZS has stopped at an inn and is enjoying alcohol and food. He calls the waiter who comes over and asks what he needs. ZZS says that the Wucheng wine is very good and asks for another bottle. The waiter apologizes and explains that an important person from Hu has bought the entire stock of Wucheng wine. He offers to bring something else. Having no choice, ZZS agrees. The waiter leaves and ZZS notices ZJ, SS and ZCL entering the inn. All three head up the stairs to the inn's first floor. ZZS, who is sitting at a table in the corner of the building, watches them from the side. ZCL turns around and looks into the corner of the inn. In his mind, the boy says to himself why the man sitting in the corner looks like his master. Meanwhile, ZZS has cautiously lowered his head so as not to be recognized. The boy continues to say to himself that the build of the two of them is the same, but his master is not as handsome. He also wonders where his master and Uncle Wen are now. When the three newcomers are almost upstairs, ZZS looks after them and in his mind he calls ZCL a fool. The scene with the "wedding game" is a punishment for the young man who deserved to receive it. After all, he killed a naive girl because he didn't want to take responsibility for his actions. Ghosts are bored and this kind of thing is entertainment for them. However, the young man finally understands that he will not escape punishment, he is terrified because he thought that as the leader of the sect he is untouchable. Now he takes part in a spectacle, nothing will save him. ZZS follows ZCL, trying not to attract attention, he chooses a good place where ZJ and his entire entourage could stay. It was a good choice, ZZS believes that after dropping the mask he is unrecognizable, but ZCL notices the similarity and it is clear that he misses both men. ZZH here shows us the most masculine face of Ah Xu, a modestly but elegantly dressed young wanderer who is not very noticeable. Unfortunately, the sturgeon's incredible beauty makes it impossible to pass by him indifferently. Each version of ZZS performed by ZZH has something unforgettable like that.