#Suga Fanfiction

[hueseok]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoseok stared at him. “paper towels?”

“yeah.”

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

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

“are you her dad or something?”

“i heard ladies like a provider.”

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

“how do you know this stuff?”

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

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

the funny thing, though?

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

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

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

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

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

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

the straightforwardness caught you off guard. “huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

“i said, can you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kpopfanfictrash]

In Bloom Collaboration

Pass the end of winter's cold // until the spring day comes again. This April, join us for seven (loosely) spring-themed stories from @kpopfanfictrash, @kithtaehyung, @yoonia, @syllviere, @leahsfavefics, @suga-kookiemonster, and @cybrsan.

Spring symbolizes hope for renewal, new growth and change, and the anticipation of good things ahead. With the return of BTS on the horizon, enjoy these stories centered on romance and possibility.

Content Creator: @kithtaehyung for creation of all these wonderful banners!

[ Links will be added to this post as stories as published ]

Title: Clichés and Canapés

Author: @kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); smut; best friends to lovers; fake dating; billionaire au

Summary: After nearly ten years of friendship, you’d think you were used to Seokjin’s proposals by now. In the past he’s forced you to participate in skydiving, skinny dipping, and even staging a rescue from the local shelter. Seokjin has always had big ideas but this time, even he may have gone too far. Granted, break-ups are stressful, and Seokjin’s latest one up was bad. Really bad. As in, they-ended-things-in-December-and-now-she’s-dating-his-brother bad.

It almost makes sense then, when Seokjin asks you to come home with him for his parents' party. Almost makes sense when he says his family assumed you were dating, and he didn't correct them. What doesn’t make sense is the longer you fake things, the more you find yourself wondering if this was real all along.

Posting Date: April 20

Title: Satsuma

Author: @kithtaehyung

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: m (18+); angst, smut; iron chef au, rivals to lovers

Summary: this particular culinary prodigy has always bested you—time, and time, and time again. but not today. today? you will break him. you will finally beat min yoongi—the bane of your existence and the youngest ever iron chef.

Posting Date: April 22

Title: Sunset Glow

Author: @yoonia

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); past lovers!au; lawyer!Hoseok, artist!reader; New Beginning; inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (yes, the movie)

Summary: As you accidentally stumble upon a reminder of the past that you have been slowly walking away from, you finally get to see Hoseok losing his resolve for the first time. It is now your turn to become his rock, and help remind him the reason why he has always been yours.

Posting Date: April 24

Title: Sealed With a Kiss

Author: @syllviere

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); Cardiac Surgeon Namjoon x Demon Reader; Fake Fiancé; Strangers to Lovers; Smut; Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance; Not Christian hell

Summary: When Namjoon offered you one quick favor for another, he should’ve known something was wrong the moment you kissed him instead of shaking his hand to agree. He might’ve known when dark shadows seemed to start following him around every corner. And he definitely knew the night you dragged him to hell and not-so-kindly reminded him that he owed you.

He’d never been very good at negotiating.

Posting Date: April 26

Title: Mr. Park is an Asshole

Author: @leahsfavefics

Pairing: Jimin x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); reverse tropes: nice guy who only hates you; academic rivals, but it's two teachers competing to have the best class

Summary: Ever since you joined the team as Darling Elementary's new art teacher, you've been welcomed with open arms. By everyone except Mr. Park, the music teacher. Jimin seems to be the school's golden child, beloved by all (except you), and the organizer of the school's most popular event, the annual Spring Recital. When the school's poor budget planning requires Jimin to enlist your help on the recital, you wonder how you're going to manage working with your sworn enemy.

Posting Date: April 28

Title: Lost and Found

Author: @suga-kookiemonster

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M; smut; strangers to lovers; resort!au

Summary: to give yourself credit, you’ve put up a great fight. but the inevitable has finally happened—after pushing yourself to your very limits, you’re forced to concede when an overwhelming meltdown stops you in your tracks. concerned, your mother insists you utilize her aunt’s timeshare to get some much needed R&R. you’re not quite sure how your life has spiraled to the depths it has, but you figure if you’re already in hell, you might as well enjoy the flames with cocktails in-hand.

enter taehyung—the timeshare’s absurdly hot pool bartender. tae is chill, carefree, and wholly unbothered about having no life plans beyond flirting with old ladies for tips. a planner to a fault, you simply can’t fathom how someone could flit though life without direction. but in the midst of piecing yourself back together, it gradually starts to dawn on you that the two of you might not be that different after all.

Posting Date: April 30

Title: Timezone

Author: @cybrsan

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); smut; idol!jk + non-celeb reader; inspired by the Måneskin song, Timezone

Summary: Concerts. Fansigns. Interviews. Jungkook's schedule has been so jam-packed lately that he barely has time to breathe. After a particularly rough day, he struggles to fall asleep because you aren't beside him, and suddenly he doesn't care about his responsibilities or the fact that there are 7,000 miles separating you. He needs to see you, consequences be damned, because you're the only thing that truly matters.

Posting Date: May 2

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ MASTERLIST

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

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

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

✧ WARNINGS: SLOW UPDATES, explicit sexual content, agonizingly slow burn, jealousy, hurt/comfort, emotional baggage and trauma (LIKE… EVERYONE), alcohol and drug usage, yoongi is kind of an asshole but i promise he isn’t irredeemable, everyone is bad at feelings and the communication of those feelings, The Music Industry is a warning of its own, blackmail, sexual harassment*, coercion*, quid pro quo*

* happens prior to the start of the story, not committed by the main characters.

✧ WORDCOUNT: 35.8k and counting!

✧ STATUS: ongoing

✧ SERIES PLAYLIST: spotify & official post

✧ CHAPTERS ✧

CH 1: ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE VAMPIRES!

CH 2: A HIT IS HARD TO RESIST

CH 3: WHAT DO YOU KNOW?

CH 4: E-X-P-L-O-D-E

CH 5: TOO FAR TO GO BACK

『 askbox ★ masterlist ★ ao3 ★ taglist ★ anonymous feedback box 』

[magic-shop-stories]

hiya I love your style of writing !!

Could you write a pregnancy yoongi headcannon , like add in the negatives and positives of going through a pregnancy with him etc :) and could you include how his idol life would affect it aswell please

hope you’re well 😊

💌 Reply:

AHAHHAHHHHH! THIS REQUEST IS GOING TO BE MY ROMAN EMPIRE FOR A WHILE - I SWEAR... I LOVE YOU! and THANK YOU And i really tried my best... hoping it's what you wanted 💜 PLS TELL ME IF I CAN WRITE A SHORT FIC OUT OF IT BECAUSE DAMN!!!!!!!!!! I OWE YOU! - c -

Min Yoongi (Suga) Pregnancy Headcanons x Reader

Warning: added a short mention of complication/ loss during pregnancy

🌙 How He Finds Out

you take the test alone first

needing to process it

when the second line appears, you sit on the bathroom floor for 20 minutes

staring at the wall for minutes

Yoongi knocks, worried

at first strained humor through the door

"Did tteokbokki kill you?"

you’ve been quiet too long

bobby pin lockpick (tour-prank skill)

finds you clutching the test (tears streaming)

his first words? 

“Is that… ours?” 

voice shaky

= like he’s afraid to hope

sinks beside you when you nod

forehead pressed to yours

thumbs brushing tears

“Okay. Okay.”

🌅 Initial Reaction

Panic

spends the first night researching everything

= prenatal vitamins, OB-GYNs in Seoul, safest baby monitors...

3 a.m.: muttering about “cord blood banking” and “hypoallergenic cribs”

"Newborns can’t regulate heat... adjust the thermostat!"

overprepared rants about blueberry-sized humans

Hidden Excitement

find him humming “Sweet Night” while washing dishes the next day

when you catch him, he scowls

blushing over secret excitement

“Don’t look at me.”

🌧️ Worries

Fatherhood Fears

his relationship with his dad haunts him

confesses at 2 a.m.

raw-voiced 

“What if I’m… like him? What if I don’t know how to be there?”

Dad’s voice in his head, doubting his own readiness

reads “The Book You Wish Your Parents Had Read” in secret

highlights passages about “breaking cycles”

Idol Life Stress

agonizes over balancing tours and prenatal appointments

“I don’t want to miss a single scan. But if I cancel Osaka…”

🍲What He Does (Early Days)

Spoiling You

buys a Japanese kotatsu for the living room

"...so you’re always warm."

stocks the fridge with your cravings

hides your aversions in the back

Overprepared

creates a shared calendar labeled “Bun in Oven”

color-coded doctor visits, vitamin reminders, and “Y/N Nap Time”

finger brushing dates, secretly smiling

💜 Telling BTS

waits until the 12-week mark

invites them over for “casual dinner”

spends hours prepping japchae (your current craving)

hiding ultrasound printouts under napkins

Jungkook notices his trembling hands

"Hyung, did you poison the food?"

clears his throat, after dessert

“We, uh… made something.”

plays a voice memo of the baby’s heartbeat on the speaker

recorded secretly at the last scan

Reactions:

SILENCE

then CHAOS

Jin

“Finally! Our grandpa is gonna be a dad!” 

immediately starts planning a diaper cake

Jungkook

cries silently

“Can I be the godfather? I’ll teach them...!”

Yoongi rolls his eyes but smiles

“Yeah, fine. Just… just... don’t drop them.”

Jimin

sob-hugs you

“I’m teaching them all the choreo. All of it.”

Taehyung

stares at the ultrasound

“It looks like a space alien. I love it.” 

Namjoon

nods sagely

“Life’s most beautiful paradox... creation amid chaos.” 

later slips Yoongi a parenting philosophy book titled “Raising Humans Without Losing Your Damn Mind”

Hobi

already reorganizing your pantry “for efficiency!” 

tearfully rambling about “our baby’s first dance steps”

Yoongi’s Quiet Moment

leans against the kitchen counter

watching the chaos

you catch his faint smile

You: “They’re gonna spoil it rotten...” Yoongi: “…Good.”

Bonus:

“Project Blueberry” is the baby’s code name in the BTS group chat

Jin/ Jungkook changes it to “Golden Maknae 2.0.”

🖤 Telling His Family

after the 20-week anatomy scan

visits Daegu with ultrasound photos

buys a onesie that says “Future CEO of Daegu” 

His Mom

opens the door, sees your bump

immediately bursts into tears/ sobs

hugs you

drags you to the kitchen

force-feeds you seaweed soup

then scolds Yoongi for “not feeding you enough”

“Are you sleeping? Are you eating? Why is she so pale?!”

His Dad

stiff handshake

avoids eye contact (at first)

awkward silence

later, his dad pulls him aside

“You’ll be better than me.” 

Yoongi cries in the car afterward

Hidden Detail

finds an old mixtape in his childhood room

songs he made at 14

angry and unheard

slides it into the glove compartment

“Not passing that shit on” 

tossing it in a Daegu dumpster on the drive home

🌼Daily Life

Routine & Rituals:

6:30 AM

unusually wakes before dawn to prep kimchi jjigae (iron-rich obsession)

leaves sticky notes: “EAT. OR ELSE.” 

including doodles of frowning carrots

Post-Lunch Massages

teaches himself prenatal yoga via questionable YouTube tutorials

“Turn over. No... gently, you menace.” 

his hands are surprisingly warm

kneading your lower back while muttering about “gluteus medius tension.”

Idol-Life Adjustments

converts his studio closet into a snack arsenal

= seaweed chips, honey butter almonds, and a secret Tteokbokki thermos for midnight cravings

texts producers: “No collabs after 8 PM. Family hours.”

Chores

takes over laundry

insists on fragrance-free detergent

fights Jungkook over detergent brands 

“Mint scent? Are you trying to kill her? Fragrance-FREE ONLY.”

becomes a kimchi jjigae master to combat your anemia

recipe is his mom’s (smuggled during the Daegu trip)

builds the crib himself

“Ikea is a conspiracy.” 

Taehyung helps by painting constellations on the wall

Idol Life Impact

skips late-night studio sessions to rub your feet

writes lullabies instead of diss tracks

secretly practices swaddling with a stuffed tiger

Quiet Moments

3 AM Playlist Curating

creates a “Calm the Fuck Down”* playlist for your anxiety

SEA, Winter Bear, Seesaw, and hidden track “Noori’s Lullaby” 

=his first composition for the baby

samples your heartbeat from the first ultrasound

Voice Memos

records himself reading The Little Prince for days he’s on tour

“You think they can hear me? …Stupid question. Forget it.”

📸  Public Announcement

Lead-Up

Media Lockdown:

hires cybersecurity team to scrub your address from forums

changes your code name to “Meteor” (after Jungkook’s “it’s a star baby!” slip-up)

ARMY Hints

wears a silver bracelet engraved with “Noori” during a Live

Army's zoom in

crashing Weverse with theories

Reveal

after birth

via a handwritten letter on Weverse

 smudged ink (from your tears, denies it's his)

Text: “ARMY, you’ve been my light, you gave me light when I was shadows. Now I have a new one, a new sun to protect. Please protect their privacy, love them quietly, as I do. – SUGA”

posts a black-and-white photo of the baby’s hand gripping his pinky

Aftermath:

ARMY Reactions

#Noori trends for 72 hours

ARMY floods donation sites in the baby’s name

$500k to children’s hospitals in under a day

Paparazzi Countermeasures

releases a diss track snippet targeting tabloids

“Snap a pic, I snap your lens. Try me.” 

billboards drop by 80%

🌀 When You Panic

Trigger

a What to Expect chapter about birth defects

you drop the book, gasping for air

Calm Facade, storm inside

voice steady, hands grounding yours

“Breathe. We’ve got this.”

Secret Meltdowns

texts Namjoon at 4 a.m.

“What if I’m terrible at this?” 

gets a thesis-length reply about “the ontology of parenthood”

Acts of Service

makes citrus tea in his studio mug (the one chipped from your first fight

distracts you with “urgent” decisions

“Which onesie is less cursed? Dinosaur or broccoli?”

Idol-Life Impact

cancels a radio appearance to stay home

tells Bang PD: “Family emergency” 

later writes a ballad to process the guilt

🕯️If Something Goes Wrong (+ Loss)

Hospital Vigils

refuses to leave your side

snaps at nurses who downplay your pain

or who call it “common”

“Not to us.”

washes your hair in the hospital sink, fingers trembling

 “I’ve got you. Always.”

Guilt/ Aftermath

blames himself

“I should’ve canceled the tour. Should’ve noticed sooner.” 

you find him asleep in the nursery rocker

tear tracks dried on his cheeks

clutching the “Future CEO of Daegu” onesie

writes “Noori (Unsung Verse)”

no lyrics, just piano

plays it once, then locks the file

postpones tour indefinitely

releases a vague statement: “Health hiatus” 

ARMY floods Weverse with support

Support System

Jin forces you both to his cabin

“No talking. Just eat and stare at the river.”

Jungkook leaves a stuffed tiger on your doorstep

note: “For when you’re ready”

Bonus

"Noori (Unsung Verse)” is played once

years later, at his child’s first piano recital

brings your child on tour in noise-canceling headset

"Their first concert better be mine!"

🎉Gender Reveal

Reaction

“A girl? Fuck. Fuck. She’s gonna wreck me.” 

immediately buys tiny Converse and a BTS World plush set

ultrasound tech says “It’s a boy!”

Yoongi freezes

voice cracks

“…A boy?” “Fuck. Fuck.”

buys tiny headphones the next day

“For studio time. Gotta start early.”

gender-neutral nursery anyway

soft grays, muted mint, and a framed lyric: 

“You’re my eternal moment”

 whispering to your bump at night

 “You can be anything. Artist, engineer, anything. I’ll never say ‘phase.’”

 teaches the baby “Daechwita” beats via belly taps

 “Rhythm’s in their blood, huh?”

🏥 Labor & Delivery

Prep

packs a hospital bag

weeks early

= your favorite hoodie, his AirPods (for your playlist), and a stress ball shaped like a bear*

*Jin’s gift: “For when you wanna murder him mid-contraction”

memorizes your birth plan like a rap verse

argues with a nurse about  “delayed cord clamping”

you have to tell him to breathe

During Labor

holds your hand

cracks terrible dad jokes to distract you

“Hey, at least the kid’s got my timing... fashionably late.” “Kid’s already stubborn. Must get it from you.”

becomes your human anchor

counts breaths in rhythm

white-knuckles the bedrail

tears in his eye

“You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

First Hold

cutting the cord

hands shake, but he does it

freezes when the nurse hands him the baby

“They're… so small”  “Strongest thing I’ve ever held.”

cradles them like glass, lyric notebook (reverent, awed)

whispering 

“Hi, little shadow"

Namjoon snaps a pic of Yoongi asleep in a chair

baby on his chest

both swaddled in the Agust D merch

= becomes his lockscreen

🌐 Idol Life Challenges

Touring/ Tour Adjustments

negotiates shorter legs of tours

2-week tour blocks max

 “I’ll livestream concerts if I have to. Not missing first steps/ birth!”

FaceTimes you during soundcheck

camera angled at your belly

“Tell them Appa’s coming home soon.”

brings them in a soundproof bassinet backstage

staff find Yoongi humming “Spring Day” during diaper changes

baby monitor on his desk

producers hear gurgles during track reviews

“New focus tester. Baby hates trap beats.”

Privacy

hires extra security

insists on code names (“Project Blueberry”) in group chat

threatens to write a diss track about any paparazzi who snap bump pics

wears a “F** Off”* face mask in baby-outing pics

archives old posts

New IG bio: “Not a role model. Just a dad.”

BONUS - BTS Support System

Jin’s Uncle Duties

babysits with RJ plushie tutorials

“Lesson one: How to side-eye haters and still be handsome.”

Hobi’s Playdates

teaches them “micro-dancing” (tiny foot wiggles)

Yoongi films it

saves it as “future blackmail”

🎁 Bonus Headcanons

Nicknames/ Nonsense

calls the baby “Noori” (meaning “world”) until you both decide on a name

denies it’s sentimental

calls them “Shadow” when they toddle after him

“Like father, like menace.”

secretly thrilled when their first word is “Appa”

 claims it was “aggressive babbling”

Late Nights

falls asleep reading parenting forums

bookmarks: “How to Apologize to Your Kid (Even When You’re Scared).”

First Birthday

hosts a private party with BTS/ private zoo trip

baby tries to hug a baby goat

Yoongi’s face softens

“Cursed. They're cursed.” (Takes 100 photos.)

Jungkook faceplants into the smash cake

Yoongi saves a frosting-smudged photo in his “Hidden” album

First Studio Visit

lets them mash piano keys

samples it into a track titled “Noori’s Chaos Theory”

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

2AM Happy Birthday | Suga

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

Yoongi Masterlist | BTS Masterlist | Requesting Guidelines

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

@carattinymoa - @forever-atiny - @choppedballoondetective - @rainyday-daydreamer - @reiofsuns2001

@alexxavicry - @hollxe1 - @http-gyu - @astuteataraxy - @everythingboutkpop

[prodagustd]

the road not taken | myg series masterlist

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

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!reader

—rating: +18

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

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

updated 28 november 2024.

STATE: ON GOING

1. back home

2. get up and fall again

3. four seconds

4. a wish

5. new year’s eve

6. all is fair in love and war

→ extras

✧ playlist ✧ teaser + moodboard

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

© prodagustd 2023-2024

[bluelavendre]

Title: "Gummy Smile and Forever After"

!DISCLAIMER!

Shortfic😔

Cute suga

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

I wrote this years ago btw💜💜

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: Suga (Min Yoongi) x reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End

[minyoongisprivateaccount]

♥️♥️☎️📞Incoming call from Min Yoongi☎️📞♥️♥️

“I wonder how many of us get that sudden sensation of astonishment by their person? That feeling of this exact moment, here, right now I have never known the bliss of being in the presence of my own future. Our future might not be guaranteed but with you, it never seems unpredictable. I know that I want constant laughter, tears, and most importantly the growth of learning each other. Not only our likes and dislikes but the devastations that have impacted us for the worst and hopefully for the better. I have trust that you will allow me to experience them with you until our very last days. So to my future, please continue to bless me with your incomparable presence.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️☎️📞1 New voicemail.☎️📞♥️♥️♥️♥️

♥️♥️♥️☎️📞Would you like to listen?☎️📞♥️♥️♥️

[ta3hyungtwinflme]

Once in a Lifetime

BTS x Reader

TEASER

A woman is lying there in the last bit of her life a doctor is standing over her, giving her heart compressions. As she is dying, her mind goes blank, and her mind suddenly flashes in the flashbacks. She sees everyday people throughout many different decades and remembers their life together. What will she do? She is so close to death, but now she has everything to live for; her heart is not so lonely anymore as she realizes that she's dying. What will she do? Will she keep living and meet her soulmates, or will she fade away only to be forgotten and leave them alone? Many don't get this option, not even once in a lifetime...

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about husband!yoongi who also happens to be a ceo, the very reason why he has the ability to spoil you rotten whenever he wants to.

“yoongi, come on!” you call out to your husband, seeing him still sitting on a chair while you’ve been here in the pool for a considerably long time now, expecting that he was going to join you shortly after like he said earlier.

however, it’s been roughly ten minutes now and he’s stuck there on his patio chair, scrolling through his phone and enjoying the bottle of wine he opened before you dipped yourself in the water.

“i change my mind,” he says, a bit sheepish. “the water looks cold, babe. i don’t think i want to.”

you roll your eyes, swimming closer to him. “then why did you even book us a suite with a private pool?”

“because i know you’d love it.” he smiles. “and also because i was expecting we’d swim in the daytime.”

“what’s the fun in that?”

“uh, perhaps, feeling fresh and cool and—”

“babe,” you cut him off, leaning now on the edge of the pool, “just join me.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you laugh as you see him hesitantly standing up and taking his shirt off, soon going to the steps of the pool where it leads him deeper and where you’re already waiting for him as well.

yoongi childishly holds out his hand to you, which you take with a laugh, helping him to fully sink himself in the water.

“fuck, it’s cold,” he says with a grimace and a shiver, something that makes you grin, immediately putting your arms on his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist once he goes closer.

“you’re so dramatic.”

“it is, though. look, i have goosebumps.” he raises his arm and you glance at it, snorting.

“okay, point proven, big baby.”

yoongi looks at you and breaks off into a big smile, chuckling and encircling his arms on your waist, giving your lips a quick kiss.

“enjoying this trip so far?”

“yup.” you nod.

“good.”

the both of you kiss again, this time much longer now, with yoongi angling his face to the side so he can do it better, one hand resting on your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing against it.

you can feel your heartbeat escalating at just the feel of him this near, your skin touching and bringing a little warmth in the cold water. it makes yoongi think that he should have just done this much earlier rather than prolonging it from happening because of his laziness at the thought of taking a shower after this.

“thanks for bringing me here,” you murmur against his mouth, your own curving up in a smile. “i never thought we’d actually go overseas for our anniversary.”

“it’s not like we haven’t done it before.” his hold on you tightens as you place little kisses on his jaw down to his neck, eventually settling on leaning your head on his shoulder. “besides, i think i need to make up for the fact i forgot last year’s anniversary.”

you laugh at the memory. “it’s okay. you already told me that you forgot it because our wedding date and the day we started dating confused you. plus, you took me to that restaurant i love.”

“still though… the first year is supposed to be memorable.”

“no, it isn’t. the first year’s supposed to be the hardest.” you pull back to smile at him. “so, you get a pass.”

“thank god,” he jokes and chuckles, you doing the same.

“but seriously, yoon,” you play with the hair on the back of his head, gazing at his eyes, “thank you. you always go ahead of yourself just to do things for me—to make me happy, you know?”

“why are you thanking me? it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

“no. you could have been a shitty boyfriend, and then a shitty husband but... you’re just the best. you’ve given me everything i could possibly want and been the man i needed. i’m so lucky to have you.”

yoongi gazes at you in absolute awe, that amazing feeling again spreading in his chest and making him feel all giddy and happy.

he wasn’t lying when he said that thanking him wasn’t needed, but the acknowledgement and the appreciation you’re showing surely makes him pleased, heart getting bigger because of it.

“you’re drunk, aren’t you?” he nevertheless asks though, teasing and taking the opportunity of you being lovey-dovey, that you hit his bare chest without hesitation.

“i’m serious,” you whine.

“i know, baby, which makes me glad. but it’s only what you deserve, okay? the reason why i’m doing this, i mean. you’ve been there for me too—when i was in the worst place, when the company almost went bankrupt… you were the one who picked me up to my feet, loved me unconditionally. so… let’s be real. i’m the real lucky one here.”

you smirk, fondly staring at every feature he has on his face, smiling wide. “are we just going to start saying our vows again?”

he snorts. “says the woman who started being sappy.”

“do you want me to apologize for letting my husband know i love him?”

“no,” he shakes his head, not helping himself as he leans closer to you so that he can place his lips over yours again, “i love it when you say that you love me.”

“and i really do, you know. i’ll never get tired saying how much i love you so much,” you agree almost immediately, melting into the kiss again.

he hums contently, caressing your sides. “i love you too, baby. you’re the reason why i thank the heavens for being alive every single day.”

under the stars and the moon that night, until the moment the two of you decide to take that intimate moment right there inside, it feels like a second honeymoon with yoongi.

you know he’s a busy man, a workaholic—and yet the fact that he can spare this much time for you to make you feel loved on the very same day you got married, makes you think all over again how fortunate you are to be with someone like him who works hard for you both but never forgets to cherish you.

[mariabtsos]

One That I Want ||m.yg|| - Chapter 13: Shafted

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Description: It is summer of 1956, and leader of the T-Birds Yoongi is working at a food joint at the beach to make extra money over the summer, when he meets a pretty girl. They start a summer fling that unfortunately had to come to an end, but an unexpected turn of events will bring them back together.

Genre: 1950s au, angst, fluff, some smut, Greaser!Yoongi x Square/Goody-Two-Shoes!OC.

TW: underage drinking and smoking, sexual content, violence, misogyny (it’s the 1950s so peak macho man era).

Word Count: 1.7k+

It was nice to spend time with Nayeon, Lottie thought. She hadn’t really had time to hang out with her in sometime due to how busy they had both been. She was brading Lottie’s hair, talking her ear off about this sweet date Jin had taken her on and how he’d brought her flowers and all. Lottie was paying attention, she was really! It’s just… her mind kept going back to a month ago, when Yoongi had helped her escape that creep on the street, how he’d said he’d been waiting for her to call him baby since they saw each other again and-

“Okay out with it,” Nayeon sighed as she finished tying off the pretty hairstyle Lottie had asked her to do for Taehyung’s jazz concert later tonight.

“What?” She asked, confused.

“I can tell you’re flipping your lid over something, or should I say someone,” Nayeon poked Lottie’s side. She had told Nayeon about what happened, that she and Yoongi had spoken and what was said. “I just, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that he helped me, he helped me when, if he had asked me for help I would’ve told him to beat feet,” Lottie groaned as she put her face in her hands.

“You have every right to not help him, he humiliated you and broke your heart!” Nayeon assured her.

“And yet, just that little moment had my ticker beating so fast I thought it’d explode out of my chest,” Lottie’s voice was soft and conflicted, “Taehyung is such an amazing guy, a total flutter bum-” she explained.

“But you don’t feel for him the way you do for Yoongi?” Nayeon had an understanding smile on her face.

“I know you think it’s silly, and that the school year is nearly over and I should be over him by now but… I just can’t shake him, especially not now that he’s a jock too, I always have to look at his eyes, and I’ll catch his gummy smile every so often and I just-”

“It’s not silly Lottie, you’re in love, love doesn’t go away overnight as much as it’d be nice for it to,” Nayeon assured her, “everyone moves on differently, it would’ve been easier if you and Yoongi didn’t come to the same school, and it would be ten times easier if he hadn’t decided to join the sports teams,” she placed a hand on Lottie’s shoulder, “one thing is for sure, you need to talk to Taehyung and tell him the truth.”

Lottie stood up and clapped for Taehyung as his performance finished, he truly was very talented, and he just seemed to be one with music when it came to the saxophone or choir, or anything in that sense. She went to meet him in the jazz room, watching as he put his saxophone away, saying goodbye to all his band friends before walking up to her, “hi baby, how did you like the performance?” Taehyung kissed her cheek and wrapped his arm around her as they both walked toward his car.

“You did amazing Tae, one day you really will be baking all the hottest records,” Lottie said truthfully, although her gaze seemed far away.

Taehyung wasn't unborn by any means, he could tell these past weeks, ever since that basketball game where Yoongi was the star of the game. Taehyung would never admit it out loud to her, but he was a total green-eyed monster when it came to Lottie and the greaser, mainly because he saw the way she still looked at him, like he'd brought down the moon and stars for her. It took time, but Taehyung had finally seen himself for what he was in her life… the rebound. They got in his car, he turned it on and drove.

“Lottie…” Taehyung called her as they made the drive back to her home. Taehyung never called her by her actual nickname or name, not ever since he jacketed her, so she immediately knew something was wrong.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, turning to face him. The soft street lights making his tanned skin glow, he was so handsome, so dreamy… and yet…

“I don’t want things to get goopy between us, you know I’ve always been straight forward with you,” he said, taking quick glances at her as he drove. “I don’t want to keep skirt-chasing a girl who’s still gone for another guy, it’s not healthy for me, and it’s not healthy for you either,” his words hit her like a ton of bricks and she felt absolutely terrible, she had never intended for Taehyung to feel used and yet here they were.

“Tae I-“

“Do you still love Yoongi? I need you to be honest with me, I’ve been honest with you so I think I deserve for you to be honest with me,” he asked, his request for honesty firm and heartbreaking.

Lottie took a moment to gather her thoughts, her house was getting closer.

“I’ve been trying not to, I want to be steady with you Tae I really do but-“ tears gathered in Lottie’s eyes as he pulled up to her driveway. She took another deep breath as he stared at her now that he’d parked his car, “there’s no excuse actually, I thought if I dated you eventually the feelings would go away, but that was a bad decision on my end, for me and for you, you deserve so much better Taehyungie, I’m sorry,” tears fell down her cheeks now, she still cared deeply for Taehyung, even if not in the way he wanted her to.

Taehyung’s expression was hurt, his gaze softened, “you deserve better too Lottie, but you need to figure that out on your own, and if being with Yoongi is what you need to realize it then so be it,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek while his thumb caressed her cheek, wiping the tears that kept falling.

“I’m sorry Tae,” she sniffled, holding back a sob. He pulled her into his arms for a hug, it was sweet and it held no resentment or ill-will. He rubbed her back softly as she finally let out a sob, it hurt her that she’d hurt him this way.

“You’re a knockout of a girl, Lottie, remember that okay?” He whispered in her ear, kissing the side of her hair before letting her go; she nodded, wiping her tears and opening the passenger side door, “see you around school,” Lottie heard him sigh and she turned around toward him, giving him a tearful smile before getting out and closing the door, running into her house.

“Hey sweetie is Taehyu-” her mom tried talking but all she saw was Lottie run up the stairs, “Lottie!” She ran behind her, “Charlotte!” Her mom called for her again as she entered her room behind her, her dad walking in quickly, “what the hell-” her mom quickly smacked his chest as they both watched Lottie crying.

“Taehyung and I broke up,” she said, her tears shining brightly in the moonlight as her parents came in further to comfort her.

Monday afternoon marked the later half of the school day, the hallways were specially littered with whispers, gossip, and rumors of things that gone on over the weekend, it all stopped momentarily when Namjoon walked with his arm around Kim’s shoulder, they truly were a killer couple, and their entrance would’ve been cooler if Jiyoon didn’t interrupt.

“Kim unnie! Namjoon-ah!,” she came up excitedly, accompanying them the rest of the way to their lunch table, and Kim noticed the foreigner was missing.

“Where’s our little kitten? She ditch us for the paper shakers?” Kim asked as she sat, Namjoon sitting on the table, his feet on the bench.

Miyeon looked at Kim with a bit of a grim expression, as Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin arrived, “you haven’t heard?” She asked.

“Heard what, hot mama?” Hoseok asked scooting closer to her, to which she gave him a mean mug before turning to the group.

“Word from the bird?” Miyeon started looking around, “Taehyung and Lottie broke it off last Friday,” she revealed, causing a mix of gasps and shocked looks, “that’s why she ain’t here today.”

Yoongi knew he shouldn’t feel jazzed, hell, the fact Lottie wasn't here probably meant she was utterly and completely heartbroken, maybe she had moved on and now she’d have to start over again. He shouldn’t feel jazzed, and yet, he felt like he was going to go ape at the idea of even remotely having a chance with her again. It’s not like he was wanting to immediately ask her on a date but…ever since that night where he fought off that creep who chased her, the way she called him baby even if it was to pretend for her safety… well, he just couldn’t get Lottie off his mind — then again, there was barely anytime she wasn’t already on his mind, this was just making it all worse.

Kim, despite her constant disdain, had grown a soft spot for Lottie, and she just hated to think the foreigner was alone and sad, “poor thing must feel terrible if she isn’t here,” she said, Namjoon reached his hand to cup her jaw and giving her a quick comforting peck on her lips, she smiled at him sweetly. He had always known how to comfort her, he looked at Yoongi along with the rest of the guys with concern, he looked so determined, like he was plotting something and ready to leave at any second to go find you, and they all — even Hoseok, the king of getting heartbroken chicks in the backseat of his car — looked at him disapprovingly

“That would explain why Taehyung was extra avoidant of us earlier,” Jin rationalized as he thought back to their encounter earlier in the hallway, usually Taehyung greeted them with a small smile and a polite wave, today he just walked past them with a scowl. Regardless, Yoongi had to find out more.

“Give her time hyung,” he heard Jimin speak up, “I can tell you wanna get outta here and chase her, but I doubt you showing up right now will lead to her jumping in your arms, that shit only happens in flicks y’know?” He patted Yoongi’s shoulder, Jimin had always been one of their more emotionally sound members.

So Yoongi nodded. I’ll give you time dolly, but I will find a way to get you back, he thought to himself.

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 04

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

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

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

✧ CHAPTER TAGS/WARNINGS: flashback in italics, the first chapter all in MC pov!, The Truce, yoongi is insane about pens and notebooks again, communication via lipliner and water, yijeong cameo, park jimin strikes fear into yoongi’s heart, tangerine hats and heart-pocket pants, seokjin is unhelpful, idk most of this chapter is a bit silly to be completely honest with y’all, stuff happens but i don't want to give too much away (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.8k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: i told y’all this was a slow burn... but happy valentine’s day! thank you to tanni @yooniivrse and K @ktownshizzle for beta reading this chapter (and K again for literally writing a whole line for me when i got stuck)

CH. 04: E-X-P-L-O-D-E

There are worse places to be, you think, than sitting across from Yoo Kihyun.

He’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure. Expensive clothes, perfect teeth, dark brown hair styled neatly away from his forehead. An endearing little divot at the curve of his sharp jawline. The kindest eyes you think you’ve ever seen.

The restaurant he’s picked is a bit hard to get into, a new trendy spot that’s had a line out the door every night since it opened. You’re honestly a little impressed that he managed to get a reservation. If the flush in his cheeks when you mention that is anything to go by, that was his intention.

You’re no good at first dates, but Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind carrying the conversation. He has plenty to talk about, riding high on his critically acclaimed debut. Well-earned acclaim, in your book—he has a beautiful voice, along with a charming personality that his growing fanbase is sure to love the more they get to know him.

You’re happy to listen, and even happier to keep the attention off of yourself for as long as you can. Kihyun’s relatively new to the industry, hasn’t been in the game for too long, and you’re starting to realize that the less he knows about you, the more you like him.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been in such an intimate setting with a man, and you’re surprised by how at ease you begin to feel as the night goes on. The tension in your body dissipates more and more with every sip of wine, every kind word. Kihyun hasn’t made any move to touch you, but by the time he pays the check, you’re starting to think you’d let him if he tried. 

You wait together, side by side, for the valet to pull his car around. Maybe it’s the wine, but in a moment of bravery, you allow your fingers to slide between his tentatively. Your heart skips a beat when his hand squeezes yours, interlacing your fingers all the way.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Kihyun says, his voice soft. “I’m sure you get that all the time, being a model. But it’s true.”

His free hand comes up to brush your hair away from your face, and you turn to him. “It’s the first thing I noticed about you,” he adds.

It’s the first thing everyone notices about you now, with your new career path. More often than not, it’s the only thing people bother to notice, you think. You still haven’t learned how to respond to the compliments, not when you don’t even know how to feel about them.

You kiss him instead. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him to meet you. His lips firm against yours, frozen in surprise, before they yield into something softer. Tentative. Chaste. Gentle.

You were probably going to do it anyway. It feels better than saying ‘thank you’ when you’re not sure you’d really mean it.

★ ★ ★

A week has passed since you shook hands with the devil.

To his credit, Yoongi seems to be holding up his end of the deal—better than you are, even. It’s unsettling. You think you hate it.

It’s gone like this:

Day One

You wake up and choose violence. 

The memory of Yoongi using your ex-boyfriend against you is still fresh in your brain, and you decide to say fuck the truce until he pays suitably. It’s only fair.

Yoongi doesn’t leave the house often, unless dragged, but the universe seems to be on your side today. He’s out of cigarettes! Praise be. Surely his absence, however brief, will give you enough time to exact your revenge.

You tiptoe down the stairs just in time to watch the back of his stupid head disappear as the front door closes behind him. As soon as the lock clicks, you’re springing into action.

Careful not to tip off his bandmates, you slink around the house, stuffing your cardigan pockets with every single Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pen you can get your sights on. 

Maybe it’s childish, stealing all of Yoongi’s pens, but fuck it. What else do you know about him? What else is there to take? Pens will have to do.

By the time you’ve scanned each room in the house, twice, your pockets are overflowing. More pens create indentations in your stomach, stashed in the elastic of your leggings like a belt. Like a trophy.

Fifty-six pens are dumped into the bathroom sink. An absolute mental patient amount of pens for one person to have, you think as you separate them into groups of seven. You bundle them with hair ties, stuff them into your emptied makeup bag, and hide your crime in plain sight—the bathroom counter.

Then you wait.

The payoff isn’t immediate. Once he gets back, it takes an hour or so for Yoongi to start patting his pockets. A little longer for drawers to be rifled through, for couch cushions to be overturned. You just watch, confident that he won’t find anything.

By the end of the night, the house looks like it’s been ransacked by a crazed fan, and your makeup bag remains untouched.

Day Two

You have sightseeing plans with Jeongguk today, a visit to the aquarium where photos are sure to be taken. You’re just about to leave the bedroom and head downstairs to meet him when you notice a piece of paper at your feet. 

When you pick it up, you’re faced with the scrawl of Yoongi’s handwriting, smudged in an eerily familiar shade of pink.

The name Yoo Kihyun will never come out of my mouth again if that’s what you want. Have mercy on my pens. They didn’t do anything wrong.

— The only person committed to this truce, apparently

P.S. Your lipliner is now a prisoner of war

You absolutely do not snort at Yoongi’s note. You don’t find him funny.

What is funny, however, is that when he swiped the lipliner from the bathroom you share with Jeongguk, he was less than three feet away from all fifty-six of his pens the whole time. Hilarious.

Later, when you’re watching a group of penguins waddle behind glass, you’re hit with a wave of genius.

“Jeongguk-ah.”

“Hm?”

“Can you give me Yoongi’s number? I don’t have it.”

Jeongguk seems more than happy to comply, instantly fishing his phone out from the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Wow, you two are really getting along now, huh?” he asks, sounding more than pleased as he taps on his phone screen a few times.

“What can I say?” you hum, retrieving your own phone as it buzzes in your purse. “You were right. We have more in common than we thought.”

You open your camera app and hit record, zooming in on one of the penguins for a few seconds. It’s the first thing you send to Yoongi.

You: has anyone ever told you that you walk like this?

Day Three

Yoongi has a new pack of pens delivered to the house. You decide to let him keep them, since your message was clearly received. No response to your penguin text yet.

Day Four

Jeongguk needs to learn to read the room, you decide.

It’s late as fuck. You’ve been out all night with him, on another sightseeing trip—following him around, holding his hand, resting your head on his shoulder. Everything that’s expected of you.

By the time you make it to the bedroom, the mask of ‘fake girlfriend’ feels too tight, too heavy. All you really want is to climb into bed and go to sleep.

Instead, you’re wide awake, idly scrolling on your phone in bed while Jeongguk talks to his real girlfriend over the phone. With all the fucking lights on.

Despite how hard you try to tune them out, you catch every single word. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to even notice that you’re in the room with him, that you’re trying to sleep, too busy cooing sweet nothings over the line. 

In this moment, you’re more aware of where you stand with Jeongguk than you’ve ever been. And for the first time since this whole charade began, you’re actually kind of grateful that you’re not really dating Jeongguk. As it turns out, Jeongguk in love is nauseating. Since you’re on your phone, you go ahead and tell Seokjin as much.

After toughing it out for nearly half an hour, you slip out of bed. You decide to go get yourself a glass of water or something, give Jeongguk time with his girlfriend. You’re sure he misses her.

You tiptoe to the door quietly, not wanting to draw any more attention than necessary to your presence or your departure. “Noona, I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Jeongguk whines, completely oblivious to you. 

Aw hell nah.

You book it down the stairs as fast as humanly possible, so fast that you’re out of breath by the time you make it to the bottom.

The living room is dark when you pass through it. You think, for a moment, that you and Jeongguk might be the only ones still awake at this hour. As you get closer to the kitchen, though, the smell of fresh coffee floods your senses.

There’s only one person in this house insane enough to make coffee this late at night.

“Hey.” 

The sound of your voice makes Yoongi freeze in his tracks, caught, but he shakes it off quickly. 

“Hey,” he replies in kind, looking you over. “You’re up late.”

Something in his tone makes you pause, confused, until you look down at yourself and realize what he must be thinking. You’re in sleep shorts and a tank top, barely covered despite the chill outside, sneaking downstairs late at night. From the room that you share with your supposed boyfriend. Out of breath and shaken up.

He probably thinks you just had sex.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply stiffly. “Thought I’d get some water.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything else, opting instead to stare at the coffee pot as it brews in front of him. Good. You don’t want to know what he’s thinking.

You grab a glass from one of the cabinets, filling it up at the sink. It hits you, as you take a sip, that you haven’t actually spoken to Yoongi since the truce began four days ago. Nothing beyond a note written in your lipliner and an unanswered text about penguins. You don’t know how to act around him now, unsure of how guarded you need to be.

Thankfully (you hope), he breaks the silence first.

“I’ll be out of your hair once this is done,” he says, gesturing towards the coffee. You can’t help but note that he still isn’t looking at you.

“Who drinks coffee this late, anyway?” It’s an attempt at a joke, something to cut through the awkwardness settling between you.

Right at that moment, the coffee pot beeps. Wordlessly, Yoongi fills his mug and shuffles past you like he’s in a hurry, hot coffee threatening to spill over.

“People with albums to write,” he mumbles once he reaches the doorway. Without another glance in your direction, he’s gone.

Day Five

Your day starts with a pounding in your head.

Despite both of you falling asleep around the same time (read: late as hell), the couch Jeongguk’s been sleeping on is desolate when you open your eyes. 

He does that, you’ve noticed. No matter how late he stays up, he’s always up at the asscrack of dawn, going for a run or whatever it is he feels so compelled to do during the devil’s hours.

You roll out of bed around ten. You don’t have anything to do today, and judging by the quiet, it seems like you might have an empty house on your hands. It’s for the best, you think, because your skull feels like it’s about to pop.

Coffee, then. That should help.

Almost as soon as you cross the threshold from bedroom into the hallway, you’re intercepted by an extremely perturbed Yoongi.

“Okay, the pen thing was cute and all, but this is a little different,” he says. No hi, hello, how are you? Great. Your temples are throbbing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, making an attempt to push past him so you can get to the stairs, but Yoongi stops you with a hand on your elbow. Again with that shit.

“YN,” he huffs, unimpressed. “Just give it back. I know you have it.”

“Have what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you repeat, jerking your arm out of his grasp. “Will you stop fucking doing that, by the way?”

“My notebook,” Yoongi says, stepping in front of you again. “I can’t find it, and you stealing my shit seems to be a running theme this week.”

You blink at him, brows knitted together in confusion. His notebook? The fuck?

“What, you only had the one? But five dozen pens didn’t seem like overkill?”

“YN, I’m not fucking around,” he snaps. “There’s shit I need in there. Like all the songs for the album I’m here to write? An album I’d really like to finish as fast as possible.” 

He doesn’t say the ‘so I can get away from you’ part, but he doesn’t really have to. His tone says enough.

That doesn’t change the fact that you don’t have his shit.

“Should’ve kept better track of it, I guess. I don’t know what to tell you.”

At this, Yoongi laughs, sharp and bitter. “You are fucking ridiculous, you know that? You’re the one who wanted this stupid truce. I was perfectly fine with the way we were operating before, but you came to me, practically begging me to play nice. What the fuck have I been doing?”

He’s looking at you like he expects an answer. You clench your fists at your sides. “Playing nice,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Better than you,” he adds, arms crossed over his chest. “I know you’re used to everyone letting you get away with whatever, but I’m not Kihyun, and I’m not Jeongguk. I don’t gain anything by letting you act like a brat.”

That makes you bristle. “Fuck you. I don’t have your stupid notebook, Yoongi. It may come as a shock to you, but I’m not interested in reading any more shitty lyrics about how much of a cunt you think I am.”

With that, you shove him out of your way once and for all. Blood rushes through your ears as you hurry down the stairs, almost running face-first into a wide-eyed Jimin in your haste. 

Shit. You can only hope he didn’t hear any of that.

You run into Yoongi one more time, right before bed. Same as last night, you’re getting yourself a glass of water while he makes coffee. You move around each other in stony silence, both of you unwilling to acknowledge the other’s presence in the kitchen. 

This time, though, you’re the one that leaves first. It feels a little like getting the last word.

Day Six

You spend the whole day in Teams meetings. You packed your schedule on purpose this time, disinterested in dealing with anyone that isn’t paid to kiss your ass. 

You eat a power bar for lunch. At dinner, Jeongguk brings a plate upstairs for you. You claim that you’re too busy to come down, but really, you’re still licking your wounds after your run-in with Yoongi yesterday afternoon.

It seems stupid now, but you really thought things were getting a bit better between the two of you. Or, at least, you hoped so. You weren’t naive enough to think that Yoongi was starting to like you, but you did think that there was a mutual respect forming there.

Your mistake.

It’s late when you decide to venture downstairs. You’re restless, having spent the better part of an hour tossing and turning while Jeongguk snores from the other side of the room.

Late enough that you think, hope, that you’ll be able to avoid another run-in with Yoongi. Even if he’s still awake, there’s no way he’s making coffee at this hour. You held off for long enough.

When you reach the kitchen, you find that you’re half right. The coffee pot is nearly empty, but judging by the aroma, the pot wasn’t made all that long ago. Yoongi, however, is nowhere to be found.

On the kitchen counter sits a glass of water, and next to it, a scrap of paper. Blank, but unmistakably from Yoongi’s thought-to-be-missing notebook.

Huh. So he found it.

You take the glass upstairs with you, careful not to wake Jeongguk as you sneak back into the room. It’s only when you climb back into bed that your phone buzzes beside you. When you open it, you’re greeted by the sight of your still-unanswered penguin text, and a new message.

The Devil: 🏳️

Day Seven

When you venture into the living room in the morning, you’re surprised to find the whole band gathered around the seating area. 

For the most part, the house has remained pretty quiet during the time you’ve been here. Today, though, it’s rowdy. You quickly find out why when you spot an unfamiliar fifth face—a handsome stranger with his arm slung around Yoongi’s shoulders.

A new bombshell has entered the villa. 

The chattering stops as soon as you’re spotted. You don’t even get a chance to be properly introduced to the new houseguest before you’re intercepted by Jimin, who throws himself in front of you at the foot of the stairs. 

“The inappropriately dressed goddess in silk shorts is Jeonggukie’s girlfriend, YN.”

“You may recognize her face from every Olive Young in Seoul,” Taehyung adds with amusement. 

“YN, this is Yijeong.” Jimin turns around, pointing at you. You think you catch a twitch in his right eye. “Go get dressed. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“Um… Okay,” you say, half-awake and confused. 

Once you’re dressed less than half an hour later, you’re all piling into the van outside. The busy day, you find out, consists of a trip to the Little Prince citrus orchard—the trip that the band takes every time they’re in Jeju. You guess it was fast tracked due to Yijeong’s arrival.

In any other circumstance, you’d be thrilled at the prospect of spending your day picking tangerines, but the vibe seems off. Jimin looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin, and the glances you catch him sending Yoongi’s way chill you to the bone. You don’t know what Yoongi did to piss him off, but it seems like Jimin has officially cracked, and you don’t really want to get on his bad side by asking.

Still, you suck it up. There will be plenty of photo opportunities, you reason. Plus, the hallabong smoothie this place offers looks really fucking good.

Upon entry, you’re handed a small wicker basket and gloves for tangerine picking. At the very least, the weather is suitable for what Jimin has in store. It’s the kind of winter day that feels fresh and crisp, more than comfortable to walk around in as long as you have a jacket.

At first, the group breaks off into twos—Jimin and Taehyung, Yoongi and Yijeong, you and Jeongguk. You’re not exactly mad about the pairing, considering it means you’ll get to take those pictures for Seoyeon to post on your Instagram. Jeongguk is more than willing to indulge you, immediately tugging you close and snapping a selca with his cheek smushed against yours.

As your basket fills, though, you end up rotating through the group. Taehyung, dressed all in warm tones, buys you one of those smoothies you’ve been eyeing. Jimin snickers at you as you spike it with the flask you’ve had stashed in your purse, stealing a sip. Even Yijeong makes a point to walk with you for a bit, re-introducing himself politely.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to greet you properly earlier,” he says, sheepish. “It’s hard to get a word in with this group, sometimes.”

“So I’m learning,” you quip back easily, eyes scanning over the hanging hallabongs surrounding your path. “So, you’re here for the weekend, then?”

“Seems like it. Yoongi-yah called me down earlier this week. He wants a fresh pair of eyes for a song he’s working on.”

You scoff at that, unable to help yourself. “Like he doesn’t have three other pairs already?”

Yijeong gives you a sidelong glance, although it isn’t unkind. “He can be kind of secretive,” he explains, careful. “I think he just wanted the opinion of someone without a vested interest.”

You hum, unsure of how to respond. It makes sense, you guess.

“Am I wrong in assuming there’s a little bit of… tension there?” Yijeong continues. “Between you two.”

“We’re working on it,” you mumble, taking a much-needed sip of your smoothie. “Really. Chalk it up to incompatible personalities.”

“Ah.” Yijeong chuckles knowingly. “I get it. Yoongi-yah can be a little…”

“Bitchy?”

“Guarded,” he snorts. “But bitchy, too. I thought the same, when we first met. I was signed to the label about a year after Burn the Stage was. It took us a while to become as close as we are now.”

“You’re a musician?” you ask, interest piqued. You’ve never heard his name before, but granted, you don’t really keep track of that side of the industry anymore.

“Soloist,” Yijeong confirms, seemingly unoffended by your lack of recognition. “Producer, sometimes. I helped master their last album. I guess I impressed Yoongi, back then.”

“Teach me your ways,” you joke, earning another laugh from him.

“He’s not as hard to figure out as he likes to come off. It’s getting him to trust you, that's the hard part.”

Ah. Well. You’re kind of fucked in that department.

“Just give it time,” Yijeong says reassuringly. “If you’ve won the rest of them over, Yoongi will follow. He likes to play the part of the overprotective hyung, but he really is a nice guy when it comes down to it.”

“So I keep hearing. You two must be close, then.”

“Yoongi doesn’t have a lot of people to talk about his problems with. He’s way more interested in being a problem solver for others. But… everybody needs somebody.”

You grimace, stomach dropping at the thought of what kind of things Yoongi might have said about you, to this virtual stranger. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Yijeong.

“If it helps, he hasn’t had anything bad to say about you since I showed up,” he adds reassuringly.

“Meaning he hasn’t said anything about me at all?” you ask, hopeful.

“Mm. Well, he said you’re pretty… passionate,” Yijeong says, lips quirking up at the corners in a soft smile. “I’ve learned that’s a good thing, in Yoongi’s book.”

Or it’s code for crazy bitch. But hey, you’ll take what you can get.

“Sure,” you hum, glancing in Yoongi’s direction. He’s a little further ahead on the path, deep in conversation with Jimin. His face is as pale as the white flag he sent you. Uh oh. “We’ll see.”

As the two of you gain on Yoongi and Jimin, it seems like whatever confrontation that was being had is over with. Good, because you still don’t really want to know what that was about.

“You need the Vitamin C, hyung,” you overhear Jimin say as you and Yijeong approach. He bumps Yoongi’s shoulder conspiratorially. “I bought something for you.”

“What?” Yoongi narrows his eyes.

From behind his back, Jimin procures a hat—a fuzzy, bright orange tangerine hat, complete with a tiny green leaf on top. He looks thrilled.

Yoongi, however, does not.

“Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes.” Jimin is already shoving the hat onto Yoongi’s head before he can fight back, dodging his weak attempts to resist. “Cute,” he coos, stepping back to admire his work.

Yoongi glares, but to your amusement, doesn’t make any move to take it off. 

Jimin, delighted, raises his phone. “Come on, let me get a picture—”

“No.”

“Just one! You’re already wearing the hat—”

“Park Jimin, do you want to die?”

Before you can register what’s happening, Jimin is full-on sprinting, chasing Yoongi around the orchard, phone camera wielded like a weapon. You can’t help but laugh. You’ve never seen Yoongi run, but just like his walk, there’s something penguin-esque there.

As Yoongi dashes past you, tangerine hat still firmly on his head, your gaze catches on something. His jeans—fitted just right, annoyingly so—have heart-shaped pockets.

You blink, looking away immediately. Definitely not something you needed to notice. Definitely not something you should be thinking about. But the image is burned into your mind, and unfortunately, Jimin notices the direction of your gaze and stops dead in his tracks.

“Wait,” he gasps, doubled over as he catches his breath. “Hyung, are those hearts on your back pockets?”

Shit.

Puzzled, Yoongi slows to a stop, frowning. “What? So what?”

Jimin, absolutely giddy, points. “Oh my god. Look at you, Mr. Soft and Romantic.”

“They’re just jeans,” Yoongi grumbles, but the slight pink at the tips of his ears says otherwise.

Jeongguk, watching the whole thing unfold, slides next to you where Yijeong had just stood. “You know, you’re going to give everyone the wrong idea, staring at Yoongi-hyung’s butt like that,” he murmurs, voice low so no one else can hear.

You shove him, hard, heat crawling up your neck despite yourself. “Yah, they’re cute jeans!” you hiss-whisper. “Maybe I want a pair for myself!”

He just grins, nudging your shoulder again. “Come on, pervert. We’re all going to dinner.” 

★ ★ ★

When you make it back to the house, you can’t break off from the group fast enough. You don’t mean to be rude, but fuck. You need a minute to process the events of the day.

In an ideal world, said processing would be done with the assistance of your best friend. That’s what Yoongi and Yijeong do, right?

Once you make it inside the house, you make a beeline for the swing out back, phone already tucked between your ear and your shoulder as you slide the patio door open. It rings once, twice, before the call is declined altogether.

SuckJin: You’re joking right?

Right.

Too bad your best friend is a traitorous snake who prioritizes his medical career over being at your constant beck and call.

You: i need to talk to you!!!!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: Are you dying

You: no?????

SuckJin: Great

SuckJin: Nothing I can’t help with over text then

You: in case i don’t tell you enough, you are the fucking worst

You: just so you know

With a groan, you plop onto the swing, thumbs tapping wildly at your phone screen as you try your best to put words to what exactly you’re feeling right now. A task that proves impossible, since you’re not really sure yourself.

You: your worst mistake as my best friend is sitting idly by and allowing me to remain celibate since kihyun and i broke up. what’s happening right now is all your fault actually

You: because now that my JK-related feelings are waning i’m convinced i would fuck absolutely anyone in my current state. that HAS to be what’s going on because there is NO other explanation for my behavior these past few days

You: I CHECKED OUT MIN YOONGI’S ASS!!!!!!!!

SuckJin: LOL

SuckJin: How was it

Why does the universe hate you so? What could you have possibly done in your past life to deserve a best friend so devoid of empathy? You should’ve listened to your gut back in middle school, when it told you to steer clear of the weird, egotistical theatre kid with the bowl cut.

You: NOT the point you freak

SuckJin: What is in the air in Jeju lol

SuckJin: Maybe u two just need to bang it out

What the fuck!

You feel the heat flood your cheeks in an instant, indignantly typing what is sure to be a complete disembowelment of your best friend, but the sound of the sliding glass door opening stops you in your tracks.

It’s Yoongi. Of course it is.

Cigarettes in hand, he crosses the garden until he reaches the swing. Instead of joining you, though, he leans against one of the supports, holding the opened pack out to you in offering.

“No, thanks,” you cheep, stuffing your phone in the pocket of your sweatshirt as you will the flush in your cheeks to die. Seokjin deserves to be left on read for his crimes.

Yoongi shrugs, patting his pockets in search of a lighter. When he finds it, you watch the warm glow illuminate his face as he brings it to the end of his cigarette and inhales deeply.

You feel so far out of your depth here. It’s Yoongi’s house, Yoongi’s garden—even if you’ve staked your claim on this swing since the night you arrived, everything you’ve helped yourself to here belongs to him. Jeongguk included.

Yoongi is well within his rights to have a cigarette wherever he pleases. You just didn’t think he’d prefer to have one here, with you.

“You looked like you had fun today,” Yoongi says, the low hum of his voice effectively breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I did…” You shift positions on the swing restlessly, unfolding your legs and wincing as you stretch them out in front of you. “You looked like you had fun, too,” you offer.

“Mm.”

Talkative as ever, this guy. You guess it’s up to you to keep the conversation going.

“You looked goofy in that hat, though,” you add, your lips quirking up at the corners faster than you can stop it.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at that. “Yeah? Maybe I should give it to you, then, dollface. You’re the model, after all.”

Dollface.

He keeps calling you that, doesn’t he? He called you that the first night you met. He must mean it as an insult, an implication that your looks are all you have going for you. That’s how it felt the first few times, at least.

Still, you can’t help but notice that this is the longest conversation you and Yoongi have had since your fight last week. You’re both being so shockingly peaceable, you can’t help but comment on it.

“So… I had fun, you had fun,” you mumble, lazily kicking your feet to push the swing back and forth. “Crazy concept that you and I can have fun in the presence of each other.”

“Crazy.”

“You can admit the truce was a good idea. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone you were wrong.”

Yoongi’s eyes meet yours. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just takes a slow drag of his cigarette as he considers you. You shrink, pinned as his eyes scan over your face for so long it feels unbearable.

And then he’s moving, cigarette tumbling to the ground as his shoe stubs out the orange glow. Hands swiping ash off of denim. Your eyes track each movement against your will, until you shake yourself out of it and stare at your shoes instead.

“We’ll see.”

There’s the squeak of the sliding door, and then your only company is the smell of smoke and your phone buzzing in your pocket.

★ ★ ★

The finale to Yijeong’s impromptu weekend visit is a night of bar hopping. A night that ends at a local noraebang.

The room all of you inhabit is small but cozy, with plush seating surrounding a sleek table. Accent lighting on the walls glows neon, pulsing to the rhythm of the music. The large screen in the middle of the room is lit up with endless list of songs—some that you’re surprised to see in the repertoire.

Everyone picks off of a tray of drinks and snacks—crispy fries, fried chicken, soju shots, frothy beer—refueling after all of the alcohol you’ve downed tonight.

You’ve lost track of how many drinks you’ve had, but when Taehyung thrusts the microphone into your hands with a boxy grin, you don’t hesitate. It’s been a long time since you’ve been to a noraebang, but you can never go wrong with some Paramore.

The moment the opening chords of Ignorance blast through the speakers, something electric rushes through you. It’s instinct, really—the kind of song that demands to be sung like you mean it.

If I'm a bad person, you don't like me Well, I guess I'll make my own way It's a circle, a mean cycle I can't excite you anymore

Where's your gavel? Your jury? What's my offense this time? You're not a judge, but if you're gonna judge me Well, sentence me to another life

Like riding a fucking bike.

As soon as you open your mouth, Jimin and Taehyung immediately lose their minds, jumping onto the couch and headbanging along like he’s one of the fans at a concert for his own band. Jeongguk, beside him, stares in awe, boba eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them.

But it’s Yoongi you glance at between verses, though you’re not sure why. He’s leaning back against the couch, half-hidden in the dim lighting, watching. His expression is completely unreadable. You can’t look away.

This is the best thing that could have happened Any longer and I wouldn't have made it It's not a war, no, it's not a rapture I'm just a person, but you can't take it The same tricks that, that once fooled me They won't get you anywhere I'm not the same kid from your memory Well, now I can fend for myself

Don't wanna hear your sad songs I don't wanna feel your pain When you swear it's all my fault 'Cause you know we're not the same We're not the same Oh, we're not the same

By the time you hit the chorus, you’re all in—singing like you’ve got something to prove, like the song is a battle you refuse to lose. 

It’s cathartic. It’s messy. It’s more fun than you’ve had in a long fucking time.

As the last note fades out, you’re fighting for breath, buzzing from the energy. The room erupts into cheers, and Jimin all but tackles you in excitement.

“Holy shit, YN,” he howls. “That was amazing. Again, again!”

Before you can protest, Jeongguk takes the mic from your hands and spins through the song queue. “Nah, it’s my turn,” he declares. “Does this thing have Linkin Park?”

When you manage to peel Jimin off of you, Yoongi’s gone.

You know that it shouldn’t bother you. You know that you should say good riddance, let him go do whatever is so important that he had to bolt like that. But for some reason completely beyond you, you just can’t. 

Your feet start moving before your brain can catch up. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, but it falls on deaf ears anyway. Everybody is wasted, attention already diverted to queueing up the next song, and you slip out entirely unnoticed.

The alley behind the noraebang is dimly lit, the cool air hitting your skin like a slap. And there he is, leaning against the wall, cigarette between his lips. He notices you immediately, his gaze flickering to you in that lazy way of his.

“You left,” you say dumbly.

He lifts his cigarette in answer. “Need something?”

It’s a great question. Now that you’ve found him and you’re freezing your ass off, your lost sanity is quickly finding its way back to you. Why did you leave everybody inside to follow a person you hate?

“Just needed some air,” you lie, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Couldn’t breathe in there.”

Yoongi exhales slowly, smoke curling in the space between you, and you shift on your feet, shivering against the cold. If he notices, he doesn’t comment—just watches you with that unreadable expression, waiting.

You should go back inside. You should say something biting, roll your eyes, turn on your heel. But you don’t. Instead, you rub your hands along your arms, trying to warm yourself up, and Yoongi clicks his tongue.

“You’re shivering.”

Uh, yeah? It’s winter and you forgot your jacket inside. Of course you’re shivering.

“It’s freezing,” you mutter.

Yoongi sighs, long-suffering, then shrugs off his jacket. Before you can protest, he steps forward, draping it over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It smells like him—faint cologne and smoke, something a little sharp but not unpleasant.  

You clutch at the lapels before you can stop yourself, blinking up at him. “You didn’t have to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts in, waving a hand dismissively as he leans back against the wall. “Just don’t make it weird.”

Right. Because this is totally normal behavior.

You huff, rolling your eyes, but the warmth is welcome, and you make no move to give the jacket back.

Yoongi glances at you sideways, smirking. “See? You do like it.”

Suddenly, the cold is forgotten. Like somehow, the cramped noraebang felt less stifling than standing here, out in the cold with Yoongi.

“Why’d you follow me out here, dollface?”

There it is again.

“You need to stop calling me that,” you snap, annoyed.

“Nah,” he hums. Your eyes are drawn to the orange glow as he flicks his cigarette, crushing embers into the ground with the toe of his boot. “I think you like that, too.”

What the fuck.

“I—”

“Answer the question,” he interrupts.

“Why did you leave?” you counter.

“Needed a smoke. Told you that already.”

It’s a solid alibi, but something in his tone tells you he’s not being completely honest. So, you pry.

“Left in a pretty big hurry, for a cigarette,” you goad. 

Yoongi huffs, exasperated as he runs his fingers through his hair. “What do you want me to say? Clearly you have something in mind.”

All you do is glare at him in response. You’re out here, shivering to death instead of being inside with people that actually enjoy your company. The least he could do is not waste your time by being a fucking pussy.

It’s silent for a long moment, both of you waiting for the other to break. But then, Yoongi sighs.

“I didn’t know you could still sing like that,” he finally says, his voice a low murmur.

Wait.

“Still?” you ask, bewildered.

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth turns up in a lazy smirk. “What, you think I don’t know things about you? You should know better than that by now.”

“I was at your debut show,” he adds, his voice suddenly more earnest than you’ve ever heard it. “That voice was my first impression of you. Almost had me fooled.”

Infuriatingly, he doesn’t elaborate any further. “Fooled into what?” you ask, eyes narrowing. That wasn’t an attempt at a compliment, was it? There’s no way Min Yoongi is paying you a compliment right now.

“Into thinking you’re someone I might want to spend time with,” he replies, unwavering but still completely unclear.

You wish you could tell what he was thinking. What does he mean by that? That if you met under different circumstances…?

The tension is thick, suffocating. Your pulse thrums in your ears, drowning out everything else—the distant music, the buzz of electricity, the rational part of your brain telling you to walk away.

Yoongi just watches you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something different in his gaze now—something that makes your breath hitch. Eyes all pupil. 

Against your will, your gaze drops to his lips. You wonder if he notices. You hope he doesn’t. Or maybe you hope he does.

You don’t know who moves first.

One second, you’re standing there, glaring at him in the cold; the next, his mouth is on yours, and you’re backing him into the wall. It’s messy, urgent—like neither of you expected this, but now that it’s happening, neither of you want to stop.

His hands find your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers curl into the front of his shirt. You’re dizzy, drunk off the way he kisses you, how he tastes like smoke and whiskey, how his tongue slips into your mouth like he owns it, the sensation of smooth metal on the roof of your mouth making you whimper.

And then—

Reality crashes back like a cold slap to the face.

You pull away, breathless, hands shaking as you take a stumbling step back.

“What the fuck,” you pant, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, like that’ll erase what just happened.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but he looks just as bewildered as you feel, his chest rising and falling just as fast as yours.

What the fuck. What the fuck did you just do?

Without another word, you turn on your heel and bolt, nearly tripping over yourself in your rush to get away. Your head is spinning, your heart hammering against your ribs and threatening to explode.

And Yoongi doesn’t make any move to stop you. 

You leave everything. You don’t stop. You run, catch a cab, operating completely on instinct until suddenly, you’re in the bedroom, door shut behind you, hands pressed to your face like that’ll somehow ground you.

When you finally lower them, your lips are still tingling, Yoongi’s jacket still draped over your trembling shoulders.

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[magic-shop-stories]

Hi! I read your J-Hope fanfiction and absolutely loved it, and it got me thinking about Yoongi having a kid. Could you imagine a scene where Yoongi’s teenage child accidentally breaks something really important to him—maybe in his studio? It could be something like an award maybe? Yoongi isn’t mad, but his kid feels so guilty they run off to their mom’s grave and when Yoongi finds them, it’s this emotional moment where he reassures them that they’re more important than any material thing. Maybe they’ve been secretly working on music in his studio, and he already knows about it and loves it?

I hope that’s not too specific! You can ignore this if it’s too much—I’ve never requested something before, but your writing is so good, and I thought this could be really touching. Thank you! 💜

Also if you want to add Namjoon breaking something for comedic relief, I wouldn’t complain. 😂

💌 Reply:

WoooooooW, like fr... WOW! First of all, THANK YOU for reading my J-Hope fic and loving it—your kind words mean the world to me! 🥺 And oh my heart, this Yoongi dad scenario has me in pieces 🥹✨

The idea of Yoongi’s kid accidentally breaking something precious, only for him to remind them they’re his everything? I’m already emotional. And the secret music-making?? STOP, I’m soft. 💔

I’ll absolutely write this for you—expect lots of soft Yoongi dad moments, a sprinkle of angst, and a whole lot of healing. 💜

REQUEST NAME:

Broken Things That Matter

↳ Yoongi x Teen!Reader (Parent/Child); Angst with Comfort, Fluff

Rating: G/M!

Word Count: ~2,5k

Genre: BTS AU, Parent, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Feelings, Found Family, Emotional Whump

Warnings: Strong language, grief mention (loss of a parent), emotional distress, self-doubt, self-destructive thoughts, strained parent-child relationship.

Pairings: None (Parent-Child Relationship)

Featuring: Single Dad Yoongi, emotionally guarded child, music as an unspoken connection, tension and unsaid words, slow emotional healing, and a synthesizer full of memories.

The Relic

The Moog ONE 16 wasn’t just a synthesizer—it was a relic, a 16.5 million won relic. Yoongi had hunted it down in Tokyo, its walnut veneer gleaming under the fluorescent lights of a vintage gear shop, its analogue guts humming with the ghosts of every artist who’d ever coaxed sound from its keys. He’d joked to Namjoon afterwards that buying it felt like adopting a feral cat: expensive, temperamental, and his. Now it sat in the corner of his studio like a shrine, its LED matrix flickering faintly even when powered off as if dreaming.

You had been orbiting it for weeks.

You’d linger by the door after school, backpack slung over one shoulder, pretending to text while eyeing the Moog’s labyrinth of knobs and sliders. Sometimes, when Yoongi left the room, you’d dart in to trace a finger along its wooden edges, imagining the low growl of its bass oscillators—a sound you’d only hear in your dad’s old Agust D tracks. What if I tweaked this? You’d think, hovering over the filter cutoff. What if I ruined it?

Today, though, recklessness overruled fear.

Yoongi was asleep upstairs, dead to the world after three all-nighters in a row. The studio was yours. You tiptoed in, Matcha latte in hand, and booted up the synth. It whirred to life with a purr, its touchscreen glowing azure. You’d watched a dozen tutorials and memorized every patch Yoongi had ever saved. Just one experiment, you told yourself, plugging in the headphones.

But the latte was too full. Your hands were still shaky from skipping breakfast, from the adrenaline of sneaking in. The cup tilted—

Glug.

A tidal wave of green cascaded across the Moog’s ivory keys, pooling in the pitch-bend wheel.

“Shit—!”

You lunged for a towel, knocking over a stack of lyric notebooks. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you scrubbed, but the damage was visceral. Matcha seeped into the seams, the synth’s screen flickering erratically. Dead. It’s dead. I killed it.

Footsteps thudded down the stairs.

Yoongi appeared in the doorway, hair sticking up in sleep-mussed tufts, an old Daechwita hoodie hanging off one shoulder. He blinked at the scene—You frozen mid-scrub, towels strewn like crime scene evidence, the Moog’s screen sputtering static.

“…Is that,” he said slowly, voice graveled with exhaustion, “my Moog?”

Your throat closed. You had seen that look before—the tightness around his eyes, the vein pulsing faintly at his temple. The same look he’d worn when you totalled his car at 14, a failed attempt to “borrow” it for a midnight skate session.

“I’ll fix it,” you babbled, backing away as if distance could undo the sin. “I’ll—I’ll sell my bike, my drum kit, anything—I’ll work at HYBE’s cafeteria, I’ll—”

Yoongi said nothing. He crossed the room with the grim focus of a bomb defuser, crouching to unplug cables from the synth’s mangled ports. His hands were steady, but you catalogued every micro-expression: the twitch in his jaw when a droplet of Matcha oozed onto his sleeve, the way his nostrils flared slightly.

“It’s insured,” he finally muttered, dabbing at the keys with a microfiber cloth. “Breathe.”

But you couldn’t. The air was thick with the scent of dread and jasmine Matcha. You gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, waiting for the explosion. For the “How could you?” or “You never think!” that had punctuated your teenage rebellions.

Instead, Yoongi stood, tossing the soiled cloth into the trash. “Go upstairs. I’ll handle this.”

“But—”

“Go.”

It wasn’t anger in his voice. It was worse—resignation.

You fled.

Upstairs, you collapsed onto your bed, replaying the scene on a loop. Stupid. Reckless. Just like Mom said.

Your mother’s voice surfaced unbidden, frail but teasing, from a memory six years buried: “Yu-yah, you’ve got your dad’s stubbornness and my clumsiness. Poor thing.” She’d been bedridden then, her IV stand draped with your finger-painted get-well cards. “Promise me you’ll take care of him when I’m gone. He’ll forget to eat… or accidentally adopt another synth.”

You pressed your face into a cushion. The Moog’s death felt symbolic. Another thing you had destroyed. Another piece of him chipped away.

Downstairs, Yoongi stared at the synth.

He’d lied about the insurance.

The Moog was an expensive modified beast—its quirks irreplaceable. The track he’d been working on, a collaboration with an indie artist from Busan, relied on its specific grain. Now it was gone...

He sank into his chair, head in hand. For a heartbeat, he let himself ache—for the lost music, for the exhaustion, for the child who looked at him like he was a landmine. Then he pulled out his phone.

To: Manager Kim

Need a repair genius. Moog ONE 16 water damage. Don’t tell anyone...

The reply was instant:

Suzanne Ciani’s protégé? She’s in town.

Yoongi exhaled. Fixable. Everything was fixable.

Except, maybe, the fracture he’d heard in your voice when he’d told you to leave.

---

The Shattered Trophy

The studio had become a burial ground for mistakes.

A few days after the Moog disaster, the air still reeked of regret—and now, faintly, of burnt matcha. Cables snaked across the floor like vipers, tangling around chair legs and pedalboards. Yoongi’s Golden Disc Award, its golden figure mid-strum unfurled, perched precariously on a floating shelf cluttered with thumb drives and empty coffee cups. It was the 2023 Digital Song Bonsang for “That That”—a collaboration with Psy that had dominated charts the same week your mother took her last breath.

You hadn’t touched it. Hadn’t even looked at it since the funeral.

But today, your mind was a storm.

ADHD buzzed under your skin like static, limbs restless from days of walking on eggshells. You’d come to apologize again, to beg for chores—anything—to atone. But Yoongi was hunched over his monitors, headphones on, lost in a mix. His silence was a wall.

Maybe if I just… straighten up.

You tiptoed around the room, gathering discarded coffee cups and coiling cables. Each movement was careful and deliberate. But focus was a slippery thing—a notification buzzed in your pocket:

Jae BFF: Skatepark later? ,

and your foot caught on an XLR cord.

Time warped.

Your elbow slammed into the shelf. The trophy wobbled, tipped, and—

Crash.

The sound was cathedral-loud. The golden figure shattered on impact, its head shearing clean off, rolling beneath the desk with a hollow clink. Your breath stopped.

Flashback: Your mother’s hands, skeletal and IV-punctured, cradling the trophy. Her voice, a threadbare whisper: “Our grumpy rockstar… did it again.” Three days later, she was gone. The award had sat untouched since, a relic of her last coherent joy.

Yoongi froze. The click of his mouse stopped mid-edit.

“…?”

You dropped to your knees, scrambling for the pieces. “I’m sorry— I’ll glue it, I’ll— I’ll find a jeweler, I’ll—”

“Don’t touch it.”

His voice was arctic. You recoiled as if slapped.

Yoongi stood slowly, chair screeching. His face was a mask, but his hands betrayed him—fingers trembling at his sides, knuckles blanched. He didn’t look at you. Didn’t look at anything his gaze fixed on some middle distance where grief and fury collided.

“Out,” he said, voice splintering. “Now.”

“Dad, please—”

“NOW.”

The word was a detonation.

You fled.

---

The Runaway

The streets of Seoul swallowed you whole.

You ran blindly, sneakers slapping against rain-slick pavement, the city’s neon glow warping into streaks of acid green and electric blue. Paparazzi lurked at every familiar corner—Always watching, always hungry—so you veered into alleyways, vaulting over trash bags and dodging delivery bikes. Hobi’s apartment was too close; Taehyung’s studio was too bright. The Han River bridges loomed in your mind, but the thought of standing on those guardrails, of icy water below, made your stomach lurch.

No. Not there.

Your feet carried you somewhere older, quieter. The subway ride passed in a haze—stares from passengers, a teen’s muffled “Isn’t that Suga’s kid?” - ignored. Seonyeong Cemetery emerged at dusk, its iron gates weathered and moss-clung. You slipped through a gap in the fence, your mother’s grave a compass point in the dark.

The dogwood tree had grown gnarled in six years, its branches clawing at the sky. The headstone beneath it was small, unadorned but for her name—Min Ji-eun—and the dates that bookended her warmth. You collapsed onto the damp earth, grass staining your ripped jeans, and pressed your forehead to the cold stone.

“Eomma,” you choked, the word crumbling like ash. “I’m… I’m breaking everything.”

Rain began to fall—thin, needling drops. Your hoodie soaked through, clinging to your skin, but you barely felt it. Your mind looped like a corrupted track: Moog. Trophy. Mom. Moog. Trophy. Mom.

Flashback: Age 9, hospital room.

Your mother’s hand, feather-light. “Yu-yah… promise me you’ll take care of him. He’ll forget… forget to laugh.”

You had nodded, not understanding. Now, you understood too well.

A sob ripped free. “I’m failing you. I’m— I’m just like him—all broken knobs and sharp edges—”

The wind hissed through the dogwood, scattering dead leaves. No answer. There never was.

---

The Search

Yoongi’s hands shook as he typed.

Yoongi: Yumi’s gone. Check the usual spots.

The group chat exploded.

Jin: On my way to the Han River. Jungkook, check the bridges near Itaewon.

Jimin: HYBE’s empty. Security cams show they never came here.

Jungkook: Already at the skatepark. Jae says they left their board. Paparazzi chased them earlier.

Hobi: Checking Tae’s studio. They’re not answering calls.

Yoongi stared at the screen, his reflection fractured in its cracks. The studio felt alien now—a crime scene. The Moog sat shrouded in a tarp, the trophy shards boxed but unaddressed. He’d found your sketchbook open on the couch: a page filled with rough drafts of him, all frowns and hunched shoulders, captioned “World’s Okayest Dad (Don’t Tell Him).”

How did I miss this?

Namjoon arrived unannounced, damp from the rain, his glasses fogged. “Hyung. Let’s go.”

Yoongi didn’t argue.

---

The Cemetery

The rain had thickened into a downpour by the time they reached the gravesite. Yoongi drove, white-knuckling the steering wheel, while Namjoon navigated from the passenger seat. The car fishtailed on the muddy backroads, but Yoongi didn’t slow.

“Here,” Namjoon said, pointing to a gap in the cemetery fence.

Yoongi parked haphazardly, ignoring the NO ENTRY AFTER DARK sign. Namjoon grabbed an umbrella from the backseat—Yoongi’s backup, black and battle-scarred—but true to form, fumbled it as he ducked under the dogwood tree. The umbrella caught on a low branch, ribs snapping with a sound like brittle bones.

“Aish,” he muttered, shaking the mangled fabric. “Sorry, Hyung.”

You didn’t look up. You were curled into a shivering ball against your mother’s headstone, soaked to the skin, your AgustD hoodie darkened to charcoal by the rain. Namjoon crouched beside you, abandoning the broken umbrella to the mud.

“Hey, little storm.”

“Go away.” Your words were hoarse, raw from hours of crying.

Namjoon sat anyway, his long limbs folding awkwardly, knees jutting like a grasshopper’s. Rain dripped from his hair into the collar of his jacket. “Remember when I broke Jin-hyung’s limited-edition Sailor Moon figurine? 2025. The one he imported from Tokyo?”

Your breath hitched. “This… this isn’t a figurine.”

“No.” Namjoon’s voice softened. “It’s worse. But not unfixable.”

“Stop being wise!” You lurched upright, eyes wild. “It’s gone, Joon-ah! The award, the synth—Eomma—I ruin everything! Maybe… maybe if I’d died instead—”

Namjoon caught your wrist, grip firm. “Don’t.”

“Why not?!” Tears streaked down your face, mingling with rainwater. “Dad hates me! He should—!”

“He doesn’t.”

Yoongi’s voice cut through the dark.

He stood at the edge of the tree’s canopy, backlit by the cemetery’s sulfur lamps, shadows carving hollows under his eyes. Namjoon nodded once—your turn—and rose, brushing mud from his jeans. As he retreated, his foot caught on the ruined umbrella, crushing it further into the muck.

You scrambled backwards, spine pressing into the headstone. “How… how long have you—?”

“Long enough.” Yoongi’s voice cracked. He stepped closer, rain plastering his hair to his forehead. “You think I’d trade you? For any of it? The trophies, the synth—her?”

You froze.

He knelt, ignoring the mud seeping into his pants, and cupped your face. His palm was calloused, warm against your rain-chilled skin. “When she died, I… I wanted to burn the world. Then you’d crawl into my studio, all scraped knees and fury, and I’d think—this. This is what she left me. Not grief. A life.”

Your chest heaved. “But the award—”

Yoongi pulled a shard of gold from his pocket—the trophy’s broken head, edges smoothed by his thumb. “It’s metal and ego. You’re flesh. My flesh.” He pressed the fragment into your hand. “You think I care about a plaque? The night I won it, your mom held it for two minutes and said it was ‘too pointy.’ She cared more about the seaweed soup going cold.”

A sob tore from your throat. “The Moog—”

“Fixed it this morning.” His lips quirked, barely a smile. “Suzanne Ciani’s protégé said you ‘altered the dampening with impressive idiocy.’ She’s sending a bill. And a mentorship offer.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Turns out flooding a synth with Matcha is a résumé-worthy feat.” Yoongi thumbed a tear from your cheek. “Come home. Finish that track you’ve been hiding. The one with the… what’s it called? Trap breakdown meets Ennio Morricone?”

“Dusk Theory,” you whispered, stunned. “You… knew?!”

“Kid, you sample my snores. Of course, I knew.” He stood, offering a hand. “And Namjoon?”

From the shadows, a guilty shuffle. “Yeah?”

“Next time you ‘comfort’ someone, don’t annihilate my umbrella.”

Namjoon emerged sheepishly, the umbrella’s corpse now dangling from his fist. “Hyung, it was an accident—”

“God of Destruction my ass.”

You hiccuped a laugh, the sound fragile but real. Yoongi pulled you to your feet, steadying you when your knees buckled.

“Let’s go,” he murmured, shrugging off his jacket to drape over your shoulders. “Jin’s making kimchi stew. And Hobi bought you a new board.”

“With Hope World stickers?”

“Would I allow anything else?”

As you trudged toward the car, you glanced back. The trophy shard gleamed in your palm, sharp but held gently—a thing broken, but not lost.

---

The Mended Symphony

The studio hummed with a newfound quiet, the kind that settles after a storm. Moonlight filtered through the blinds, striping the Moog ONE 16 in silver and shadow. Its walnut panelling bore scars—faint tea stains etched into the grain, a slight warp near the modulation wheel—but it lived. A sticky note fluttered on its surface, Yoongi’s jagged scrawl unmistakable:

FINISH YOUR TRACK.

—Grumpy Cat

You traced the words, a half-smile tugging at your lips. The synth smelled different now—less like aged wood and solder, more like citrus cleaner and the faintest ghost of Matcha. Altered, but alive, you thought, just like everything else.

You sank into Yoongi’s chair, still warm from his earlier presence, and booted up the DAW. Your project file blinked tauntingly: FRACTURED NOTES (FEAT. SNORES). The waveform sprawled across the screen, a jagged mountain range of bass drops and distorted guitar riffs. Nestled in the bridge was the pièce de résistance—a 10-second loop of Yoongi’s snores, lifted from a voice memo you had secretly recorded during his studio nap last month.

“Cheeky,” you muttered, adjusting the EQ to soften the nasal tones.

The track was chaos incarnate—a thing of clashing genres and emotional whiplash. Trap beats collided with spaghetti western whistles; Yoongi’s snores morphed into a haunting theremin wail. It shouldn’t have worked. But as you layered in the Moog’s resurrected bassline—a growl so deep it vibrated your molars—you felt it click. Your sound. Not his. Not theirs. YOURS

---

Broken Things That Matter

On the shelf, the Golden Disc’s remains glimmered in their new home—a glass case lined with velvet the colour of midnight. Yoongi had stayed up piecing it together, gold-dusted epoxy bleeding into every crack. The figure now listed slightly, its neck kinked at a drunken angle, but it held.

Your addition sat tucked in the corner: a tiny skateboard fragment, its Hope World sticker still clinging stubbornly. Broken Things That Matter, read the plaque below, in Namjoon’s careful calligraphy.

At 3:17 a.m., you slumped forward, forehead hitting the desk. “Done,” you croaked to no one.

Yoongi appeared silently, sliding a fresh Matcha latte beside you—this time in a spill-proof tumbler.

“It’s… different,” he said, nodding at the screen.

You stiffened. “Bad different?”

“Honest different.” He hesitated, then ruffled your hair, a gesture so rare it froze you both. “She’d hate it.”

A beat. Then laughter, a bright and startled, burst from you. “Yeah. She’d call it ‘noise pollution.’”

“Then play it louder.”

You did.

...

[farfromsugafanfic]

Rebound | Chapter Seven: Weak Side

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

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: references to sexual acts

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

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't live alone, right?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you," he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vVv

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you want to listen to it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Add yourself to the taglist

[coupsie-daisies]

The Domestic Chronicles of Min Yoongi | Part 4

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, sick fic

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

Word Count: 1.1k

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

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

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

series masterlist | main masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can handle a little cold."

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

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

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

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

He smiled, stroking her hair and humming.

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

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

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 02 | myg

part two: get up and fall again

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

< part one | part three>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

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

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

—words: 11k

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

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago. 

Three weeks before New Year's Eve. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re mean…” He hissed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But nothing could ever be that simple. 

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

You felt your stomach drop.

Minnie. 

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

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

And the only person who you ever told about Yoongi. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted to vomit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It would hurt your mind. 

It would hurt your heart.

It would hurt your soul.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were screwed up again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snorted, “It’s the same thing.” 

“It’s not.” You denied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed. All the time, you wanted to say, but you kept that for yourself. 

“I just... wanted it for myself, no one had to know.” You explained.

Yoongi waited a few seconds for you to say something else, but you weren’t willing to pour your heart to him just yet. Yes, when you found The Alley you discovered a part of yourself that was completely unique, but that didn’t mean you wanted to share it. It was for you only, and you were happy with that. 

“Well, Pinky.” He sighed, squeezing your knee like he always did. “Even if it was a secret… I’m telling you, you were pretty obvious.” 

“What do you mean?” You frowned, confused

 “I mean, you always liked High School Musical a little bit too much.” He explained as a mocking smirk tugged from the corners of his lips. “At first I thought it was just Zac Efron, but now it makes sense.”

You nudged his shoulder before the frown in your face disappeared into laughter. “High School Musical is the best movie ever, to be obsessed with it was just logical.” You tried to excuse yourself “That and, of course, Zac Efron.”

“I never thought you would have a thing for basketball players.” He muttered, trying to play nonchalant as his eyes wandered towards the corner of the room, circling back to your gaze. You realized he was expecting an answer for that. 

“Kind of.” You waved off, pretending to be laid back about it. “But only the ones who have this internal struggle about their father’s plans for their future and their unusual passion for musical comedy.”

He let out an amused snort. “Very specific, what a shame.”

You stared at him for a second, wondering what game he was trying to play now. 

You tried so hard to keep your face straight, to try to show him that you weren’t phased by any of his stupid jokes. You wanted to remind him that you weren’t like any of those girls who were charmed just by the sight of his eyes, you weren’t like those girls he stopped in the hallways just to make them giggle when you were in high school, you wanted to make clear that you were different — except that, of course, you weren’t. The moment he displayed that specific smirk, you committed the unforgivable crime of blushing. 

But he was quick to dismiss it, he always was. 

And you were obligated to forget about it. 

“So? Why did you leave it?” He inquired, “Were you that bad?” He ignored that the room was now almost empty. Maybe in another situation you would’ve taken advantage of that and told him it was time to go to avoid telling the truth, but why hide now? Maybe telling the truth wasn’t so bad. 

You smirked, rolling your eyes. “I was the best one in my group, you don’t even know.” 

“Yeah?” He moved closer to you with big eyes, showing you how curious he was.

“Of course, do you have any doubts?” 

“Well, yes, a few.” He teased “I’d have to see it for myself.”

“Sure, when they clear the stage I’ll do a demonstration just for you.” You joked, successfully making him laugh. 

“That would be an amazing way to avoid my question.” He pointed.

You felt your chest getting lighter, and if that hinted you that it meant something dangerous, you ignored it. 

“I wasn’t doing that.” You tried to defend yourself. 

“You do that all the time.” He reminded you, and he was right. You bit back a smile, darting him a look for exposing you. 

“Fine, then. I’ll be honest.” You surrendered, maybe Yoongi could convince you to jump off a cliff if he looked at you with those eyes. “I left it when I was finishing high school, I was about to leave for college and… I had to grow up, you know? I grew too attached to this place but I knew I couldn’t cling onto these things forever.”

“Can’t you?” He questioned “Didn’t you like to do it?”

“I mean, yes, but-”

“Then, why drop it?” He interrupted.

You breathed in, wishing that you could find the words to say it in a way that made sense, because you weren’t sure what was right or wrong anymore. 

“Maybe I was on an ego trip back then, I don’t know.” You admitted. “I thought I was genuinely good but I couldn’t do anything about it, like I was stuck here. I had to let it go, for me it’s all or nothing.”

Perhaps you weren’t talking only about theater now. Perhaps you were talking about everything, perhaps you were talking about him. And it was a bit harsh, but it was the truth, or what you decided to be the truth.  Yoongi took one hard look at you, as if he was expecting you to realize how dumb that sounded, but you already knew that, otherwise you wouldn’t be there right now, at home before Christmas because you dropped out of college. You didn’t even know if when you left for college that excuse made sense, you just knew that you were bitter and angry and if you couldn't follow your dreams, you didn’t want them at all. And if you couldn’t be with Yoongi, you couldn’t see him at all. 

You ripped the bandaid off, but three years later it exploded in your face.

“All or nothing?” He repeated, but you just nodded. “But did you try first? Because as far as I know you didn’t.”

You bitterly laughed,“Yeah, right” You got up from your seat, ready to leave “And who would’ve taken me seriously?”

He got up with you, blocking the way to stop you from getting out from the sea of chairs just yet. You raised your chin, finding his eyes. “I would have.” He casually mumbled, but his words echoed in your head, clenching your heart. 

You tried to search in your brain for something snarky to say, but you froze under his gaze. “And If I wouldn’t have…” He continued “If I were a complete prick who doesn’t care about you, you should’ve done it anyway. Even if your mom puts on a bad face.”

You wanted to stop him, to shut him up. But he was right, even if you didn’t need to hear that tonight. You loved your mom and you knew she didn’t expect anything from you but to be happy, she was just worried, you knew that, but you hated that she had to see you trip with your own decisions. 

“Have you ever tried to be wrong?” You asked him, pushing his chest with your palms. “Like, just once?” Walking past him, hearing his laugh behind you followed by his quick steps running after you. 

“Don’t be mad ‘cause I’m right.” He teased. 

“I’m not mad.” You said, walking towards the entrance, hearing music coming from the other room. “Just annoyed that you had to go to college and left me here making dumb decisions.” 

He smiled, happy that you decided to show a glimpse of love for him. “Do I need to remind you that you’re just twenty one and your life is not over?”

“Yes, maybe.” You said “Several times a day, please.”

You stood in the hall, attempting to put your coat back on, but he stopped you, stealing the piece of clothing away from you. “What are you doing?” He asked, smiling. “Don’t you know that we have to dance now?”

You widely opened your eyes, almost completely forgetting that. When you bought the tickets for movie nights, you were also invited to the afterparty that was held right after the movie ended, hence the loud music playing in the next room, the biggest one of the place. You didn’t think Yoongi would be interested in staying. 

“Do you want to dance?” You checked first. You didn’t know if you were interested in staying either. 

“C’mon, I have plenty of experience from frat parties.” He bragged, taking a few steps back towards the room where the music came from. 

You shook your head. “This isn’t like those parties you went to with Simon where they play Shape Of You every three songs” 

“Why would it be different?” He said, slightly offended. Yoongi kinda liked Shape Of You…  

You grabbed his hand, dragging him into the next room as you asked him something very important, “Yoongi, do you know who The Strokes are?”

After entering the room, Yoongi disappeared for a few moments to leave your coats in the cloakroom of the place, leaving you alone to collect your thoughts once again. When you first entered the place to watch the movie you couldn’t wait to leave, and now you were in a dark room under the red lights, feeling excited at the idea of dancing like you were a teenager again. It was time for you to understand that your life was already a mess, nothing was going to change if you stayed at The Alley dancing just for tonight.

When Yoongi came back you were quick to drag him towards the center of the dancefloor, right when the first chords of Last Nite by the Strokes began to resonate in the room, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of happiness running down your body. Yoongi looked at you funny, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. He didn’t expect that you, of all people, would be excited to dance. 

It turned out that Yoongi didn’t live under a rock, he did know who The Strokes were, but barely. You knew that he always preferred hip hop and rap, but the lack of interest he had for other genres surprised you. “I don’t know the song!” He shouted over the music 

“What about it?” You said, grabbing his hands to pull him closer. “You must dance anyway, or they’ll kick you out!”

The look of terror in Yoongi’s eyes made you laugh, but you didn’t pity him, he was the one who wanted to dance in the first place, even when both of you knew that he wasn’t the kind of person who dance at parties, he wasn’t the kind of person who danced at all. 

“How!?” He asked, ignoring the mass of people jumping around him. 

“Just do what I do!” You exclaimed, shaking your head side to side to the rhythm, making the strands of your hair hit your face, and his face too. Yoongi laughed, knowing then that if he didn’t dance he would look like an absolute loser. He was still hesitant to follow you, but when you began to jump, he slowly began to jump too, trying hard to shake his head the same way you were doing as he felt his ribcage shake from his laughter. 

You nodded your head, happily tapping your feet against the ground to the loud rhythm of the drums “Oh, baby I feel so down, oh, it turn’ me off” You sang to him, but he shook his head, disappointed that he didn’t know the lyrics and couldn’t sing the words back to you, but you didn’t care, you were happy enough watching him trying to copy your moves. 

You grabbed his hands, perhaps taking advantage of the situation to tangle his fingers with you, opening your arms with your hands still connected to his, shortening the distance. “I’m not a good dancer either.” You said, maybe way too close to his face. 

Yoongi scrunched his nose, giving you a half twirl to make your back crush against his chest, trapping you between his arms. “Are you saying I’m not a good dancer?” You felt his lips brushing against your cheek, making you shiver. 

You closed your eyes shut, trying to breathe in. “Not all!” You yelled, spinning out of his arms. “But no one’s watching.”

He took the liberty to slide his hands down your torso, gripping your waist and pulling you close to his body. “You are watching.” He said, like he was reminding you. 

“Then, impress me.” 

You were thankful that the sound of the music drowned the sound of your heart, who was threatening to run away from your chest in the exact moment he smiled at you, accepting the challenge. 

You couldn’t count the amount of times Yoongi made you spin in the room, like you were dancing a waltz, before you realized that neither of you were wearing clothes made for dancing, you were wearing a black long sleeve shirt and Yoongi was wearing that ridiculous white dress shirt that made him look like he came out of one of your dreams when he rolled up his sleeves.  As one song ended and another one started, he began to stop caring if he didn’t know the lyrics, it was fine as long as he followed you, but when your hands began to felt sweaty and you felt like you needed air, you decided it was time to leave, but not before you finished dancing Song 2 by Blur, because what other chance would you have to dance Song 2 by Blur with Yoongi? And what other chance would you have to watch him copy every move you made like you were an expert at dancing? And what other chance would you have to be alone with him without feeling like your heart was sinking? It was like the loud music didn’t allow you to feel anything else but joy, or maybe you were already high from all the people smoking weed around you, either way, you were happy. 

You didn’t want to began feeling overwhelmed, the most exciting thing that happened today, before Yoongi, was finding out that your mom’s boyfriend gave her a teddy bear that sang All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey when you pressed its paw, you could blame —or just thank him— for taking you out of your house. Your heart didn’t feel as heavy as it did at the beginning of the night, but you knew it was time to leave. 

As he waited at the door, you decided to look for your coats. There was a line of people waiting to leave theirs, when you were just trying to leave the place. You expected to get in line, wait a maximum of five minutes and then leave, but right at the end of the line you found, of course, Minnie, because it couldn’t be any other way. 

She was alone, holding two purses and a big puffer jacket that was probably not hers. As soon as you stood behind her, she turned around, clearly she wasn’t expecting to see you again. “Oh, hi again!” She greeted you with the same big white smile you saw earlier tonight. “I had to leave when the movie ended, but I wanted to talk to you, where’s your boyfriend?”

You sighed, not wanting to remember what she said to Yoongi. “He’s not my boyfriend, Minnie.” You said. “He’s just… Yoongi.”

“Just Yoongi, huh?” She raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. “What are you doing on a date with Just Yoongi?”

“It’s not a date, he just invited me to watch the movie.” You tried to explain, but she wasn’t convinced. 

“Sounds like a date to me.” She giggled, completely ignoring what you said. “I remember when you were like fifteen and cried because he kissed some ugly girl at the New Year’s party, and now you’re on a date!” 

You shook your head, you didn't dare to acknowledge what she said. The memory of that night made you cringe, you remembered running to Minnie and telling everything about it while sobbing like somebody just died. She hugged you and told you that she was sure the girl was super ugly, which wasn’t the truth at all, but it was the version she decided to keep. 

“But it’s not a date.” You reminded her.

“If you say so…” She winked at you, taking a step forward to advance in the line. “But anyway! Weren’t you still in college?” 

Perhapsit was the rush of the dopamine in your body, or the fact that she spoke to you as if not a day had passed since the last time she saw you, but you told her the truth. 

“Well, I’m supposed to be in college.” You said, “But I dropped out recently.” 

“Oh, thank God.” She suddenly let out, almost by accident. You looked at her, amused that she dared to say that. “I mean, don’t get me wrong!” She rushed to say “It’s just, you know, it was about time for you to realize.” 

You smiled, feeling your chest getting warm. When you told people you dropped out of college, most of the time they looked worried, like you made a mistake, but Minnie looked relieved, and that made you feel like it wasn’t such a horrible decision. 

“I know, don’t remind me.” You huffed, looking at your feet. 

“I can't help but do it.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest, thinking “I always thought I was going to see you on a big screen someday, I was disappointed when you left for college.”

How cheesy, you wanted to say, but you couldn’t, not when she was the one who believed in you in ways you never did. 

“Well, I’m out of there now.” You just said. 

“So, if you’re not in college and you’re not doing theater, what are you doing?”

You scoffed, feeling like you just got scolded “Rotting in bed until Christmas, I guess.”

“Okay, I can respect that, but what about after the holidays?” She continued to ask. 

You shrugged, “I have to figure that out yet.”

“So… About what I was telling you before the movie started…”

“Yeah, I mean, about that…” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to cut your sentence.

“Yeah, I know what you’re gonna say, you’re out the theater stuff too, I know.” She said, waving her hands in front of your face so you wouldn’t keep talking. “But I’ve got this friend in the city who’s a director, he is working on this project and is looking for a main character, I don’t know, for some reason it reminded me of you. And now you’re here, so it has to mean something, right?”

You furrowed your eyebrows “Why would it remind you of me?” You inquired. “We haven’t seen each other in years.”

“Crazy, isn’t it?” She laughed, “He pitched to me, it’s some gothic dramatic love story, he wanted to know if I knew of someone.”

Was this some kind of joke? You, realizing that you were never happy in college, coming back home, coming back to the theater where you used to dream to step on a stage someday, or Yoongi telling you all that stuff about not even trying to make your dreams come true, and now this? Something inside you moved, you didn’t know what, but you did know why you were home after all. You told Yoongi about this in your garage the other day, you dropped out of college for a reason, you weren’t built to have a nine to five job, but you also weren’t sure what is what you wanted.

You looked at Minnie like you were sorry to turn down her proposal “Minnie, I haven’t been on a play in years.” You told her, already anticipating the rejection of her offer.

“I know that, but I’ve always trusted your talent, otherwise I wouldn’t be talking about this.” She replied “Look, I’m not asking you to say yes right now, but if you want to know more you can give me your new number.” You kept quiet for a few seconds. Not knowing what to say, you began to nervously laugh, that sounded crazy to you. “C’mon, don’t laugh! If it's of any use, it's a very well paid job.”

Now you began to laugh for real. “What do you mean it's a very well paid job?” You asked, not believing her for one second. Most plays you used to be part of during your high school days never left a dime. 

“It is!” She insisted “You don’t know my friend, he has rich parents, he doesn't do things for the love of art. I mean, he likes theater, but he also likes money.”

Well, that could’ve made you change your mind right away a four years ago, but still, a few hours ago you came to this place counting the seconds to leave, now you were debating if you should accept a job offer. You shook your head, realizing that the line moved far enough, it was Minnie’s turn to leave her coat. 

She took a few seconds and then it was your turn. You quickly asked for Yoongi’s jacket and your coat and when you turned around, Minnie was still there, not willing to give up. 

“What do I have to do to convince you to at least give me your new number?” She pleaded, looking for something in her mini bag. You observed her pulling a lighter and a joint and putting it between her lips to light it up. 

“What are you willing to do?” You joked, or not. 

“What do you have in mind?” Well, she knew you. 

“I have an idea…” You insinuated, pointing at the joint. 

She let out a cloud of smoke out of her mouth, suddenly frowning. “Really?” She said, trying not to sound annoyed, you nodded your head several times, almost excited.  “You can’t be asking for the whole joint.”

“But I am.”

Minnie shook her head in denial. “I can let you smoke it once, I’m not giving it to you.” She offered instead, but you wanted to make it worth it. If you were going to even consider accepting the job, if you were going to even think about something like theater again, you wanted at least something in return. 

“I’m giving you half my number, then.” You said “Try to guess the other half.” 

She narrowed her eyes, hesitating. Your old friend knew that you weren’t joking at all, and for some reason she really wanted you to consider her offer. You knew you won when she rolled her eyes, giving in. “You never stopped being a little bitch, have you?” She hissed, reluctantly handed you the joint. You happily accepted, taking a long drag before it went out. Minnie sighed, sadly watching her perfectly rolled joint in the hands of someone else. “So? Your new number?”

A devilish smirk appeared in your face as you began to walk backwards, taking long steps towards the entrance as you enjoyed the confused expression on Minnie’s face. “I never changed my number.�� You confessed. 

Minnie’s mouth hung open in disbelief, but she made sure that the last thing you saw from her that night was her middle finger up, directed towards you. 

It’s been a long time since you outright refused to feel something remotely close to nostalgia, to live evoking memories, to think that a fleeting good moment could make up for all the bad ones, but it was impossible not to. Instead, you were condemned to live wondering what it would be like to come back home someday and not feel this way, to come to The Alley and not feel like you left a part of you there, to look at Yoongi and not feel like you were going to miss him all your life. 

And tonight wasn’t an exception, because when you came back to Yoongi and he offered what seemed to be the warmest smile in the coldest of winters, you knew it might haunt you forever. 

But maybe, just for tonight, you didn’t care. 

“Why are you making that face?” Yoongi asked, raising a brow as he grabbed his jacket from your hands. 

“What face?” You asked back, innocently keeping your hands behind your back.

He opened his mouth to explain what he meant, but then shut it again, staying silent for a minute as he inspected your face. “Did you just… smoke weed?” He laughed, probably already smelling it. 

A smile appeared on your face as you showed him your right hand. Yoongi observed the joint between your thumb and index finger, and wondering where you got that, he tried to take it from your hands. 

You took a step back, moving your arm away from him so he wouldn’t steal it. “What? Is this not legal?” You chuckled.

“Who gave you that?” He asked, grabbing your wrist, but you raised your arm higher. 

“Are you interrogating me?” You kept teasing him, fighting his hold. “I’m sorry Mr. Min, but I’m not a snitch.” 

Yoongi let go of your wrist, quickly giving up. “Are you not sharing?” He asked, a little disappointed. 

“I don’t know.” You pointed your finger at your chin, pretending to think about it “Are you allowed?” 

You walked past him, heading towards the entrance to exit the place. “You’re so annoying.” You heard him say, already knowing he was following you.

Both of you knew that the night was coming to an end, as soon as you stepped foot on the street you could smell the dew on the grass and hear how loud were your footsteps on the empty street. You looked at him through your lashes, observing him lighting up the joint between your lips as with a lighter he found in his pockets. You held the smoke inside your mouth for a few seconds before blowing it on his face, but he just laughed, stealing from your lips. 

You wondered what else you could do to make him stay a bit longer. 

He crossed the desolate street, grabbing your hand to drag you into the poorly illuminated park. It was really cold and you could see your cold breath in the air. Everyone else in the world seemed to agree that it was time to sleep, but you didn’t dare to complain as he decided to take the long way home. 

“How do you know when you’re high?” He curiously asked, eyes locking up with yours as he took another draw. 

It was easy for you to tell, you could get high with only one puff. “I have this thing, I test if my teeth are heavy.” You told him, expecting him to understand right away. 

He laughed, confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Look, if you clench your jaw you can tell that your teeth touch each other.” You explained. Yoongi stopped dead in his tracks, standing in front of you to test it himself. “I know that I’m high when my top teeth are feeling heavy.”

Yoongi snorted, keeping his mouth closed to test it himself. “I don’t know if mine are heavy.” He said “Are yours?”

You already knew you’re high, but you tested it regardless. Closing your mouth, you pressed your teeth together to know “Yes, they are.” You laughed, feeling dizzy. “How do you know?”

It wasn’t the first time you saw Yoongi high, you remembered that time, you were woken up at three in the morning when your brother dragged him into your house after their graduation party because he smoked too much, and Yoongi’s mom couldn’t find out that her son almost died because he didn't know how to use a bong. 

It was the first time that he made Simon look like the responsible friend. Yoongi was seeing shadows before leaving the party and when he arrived at your home was calmer, but still high. He was strangely afraid of going upstairs, so the three of you stayed in the living room watching very low quality episodes of Pinky and The Brain on YouTube. Simon let you stay under the condition of not telling your mom about Yoongi having a bad trip, so you did. The memory of Yoongi laughing at the screen and eating the cake your mom bought to celebrate was still very engraved in your mind.

This version was very different. Yoongi’s hooded eyes were crystallized and there was an awkward smile plastered on his face that wasn’t going away. You could tell he was high in the way he was walking, and especially in the way he was still holding your hand.

The silence lingered in the air for a second. He pressed his lips together, scanning your face. “I know I’m high when it’s hard for me to tell if I’m looking at one thing or the whole picture.” He tried to explain “Like, I can’t focus on more than one thing at once.”

Somehow, you understood. “What are you looking at right now?”

In that moment, Yoongi seemed to be asking himself that very same question in his head, but he already knew the answer. 

 “Your mouth.” He replied innocently.

Someone in the very back of your mind started to wave a big red flag, but on the surface, where an intoxicated version of yourself was laying under the moonlight, you could only laugh. 

“Isn’t it a bit distracting?” You asked him, pulling him forward so he would start walking towards the exit of the park. 

“Yes, very.” he guaranteed “But I don’t mind.”

Yoongi followed you out of the park, and in a team of two you remembered the way to your home. It was like both of your brains had turned off, the conversation didn’t have to mean anything, you didn’t have to wonder why he was there with you at all. 

The clock on your phone said that it was three in the morning, but in your mind time had stopped forever, or at least until next morning. When you turned the corner and reached the end of the street, you knew it was time to say goodbye. But what if you didn’t want to?

You struggled to find your keys, maybe because you were high or maybe because you just didn’t want to remember where the keys were. And when you had to open the door, you leaned against the door frame to say your last words. 

You looked at him with hooded eyes, his pink lips were slightly parted, like they were about to say something but they didn’t. In the haze of the moment you thought it looked just like an invitation to kiss him, but of course you wouldn’t. Of course you couldn’t. 

What you could do, instead, was prevent him from leaving, at least for a while. Was that allowed? You weren’t in your right mind to answer that question. 

You sighed, sleepy, touching the collar of his shirt. “I can’t let you go home like this.” You let out, faster than you could think. 

Yoongi scrunched his nose. “It’s fine, it’s just a few blocks away.” He waved off your concern, but his feet were dug deeply on the wood floor of your porch. 

“It’s not a few blocks away.” You argued “You live like ten blocks away, and you’re still high…”

“I can manage.” He smirked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear like it was nothing. 

“C’mon, you can stay.” You offered. “My bed is big enough for both of us.”

Your voice came as a whisper, but your words are clearly heard by Yoongi. He scoffed, causing you to start laughing “I didn’t mean that.” You blurted out. trying to correct yourself, but he was already laughing at you. 

“What did you mean?” He was curious. 

You lightly punched his shoulder. “I meant that… You can stay.” You repeated “Besides… There’s still Simon’s old clothes you can wear to sleep.” 

He raised his eyebrows, getting closer to your face, or not, you weren’t sure. 

“What would your mom say?” He mumbled, still in denial. 

“What?” You chuckled “I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll just say you were too drunk to come back home.”

“That’s not the truth.” He said, booping your nose, but you could barely feel the coldness of his touch. 

“Do I really have to tell her that we were high?” You wondered, booping his nose back. 

Yoongi smiled, knowing you were right. “I guess not.” He admitted. 

“So?” You dared to insist.

“I’ll stay…” He said, putting a finger up. “Under one condition…”

“You want me to tuck you in bed?” You said, laughing at your own joke like it was the funniest thing you had ever said. 

Yoongi snorted, covering your mouth with his hand so you wouldn’t keep making loud noises. “No, not that.” He shook his head. “You have to make me breakfast.”

You bit the palm of his hand, making him pull away with a groan. “Is that what your life is worth?” You teased “Breakfast?”

“I’m not gonna die walking ten blocks.”

“What if you enter a bad trip?” You joked “The streets are scary when it’s dark.”

“C’mon, don’t talk about bad trips.” He closed his eyes shut, like he was trying to picture flowers and kittens so he wouldn’t think of something bad. 

“God, Yoongi. Are you staying or not?” 

He sighed, opening his eyes to display his characteristic gummy smile. “Fine Pinky.” He gave in, “Show me how big your bed is.” 

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