#Took me two mins to realize

[fluffymuffincentral]

yall I am trying to understand lethal company please send help

[crow-with-a-book]

I got to meet Amir Talai this weekend! And Kaiji Tang, Ray Chase, and Lex Lang which was actually really neat.

Like social anxiety is just man I could never have the confidence to do this. Also me: small talk with voice actors because hey they're just people. It's so weird.

[vampyrluver]

Cried for the first time at work, mean customers

[aestuavis]

@confluxium asked :

"spit it out , what is it exactly ?" - james to kurenai (:

↪ 𝑫𝑶𝑵'𝑻 𝑺𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑨𝑻 𝑴𝑬 . || accepting

|| 紅 || :: the HACKER prided herself in being able to keep her emotions intact. that was something she almost always managed to do no matter the situation. it helped when you had been in the BUSINESS for so long that lying and masking what you're feeling became a second nature. when you spent majority of your time behind a persona, it got easier and easier to not display what she truly felt within. that, and because kurenai never allowed anyone close enough to witness what was like behind that carefree, yet lethal identity of a HACKER she employed. nothing personal, it's just business.

                then why was it that she couldn't HIDE the emotions she was feeling right at this moment ? why was it that in front of him, she felt like an amateur in the art of DECEPTION ? why was it that he could see through her facade so easily like it was nothing ? it should make her uncomfortable, right ? it should make her feel exposed, yet, even now, the realization that HE remained the only person who could tell at a glance that something was bothering her was nothing short of the truth. there was no lying to him, and she did not want to lie to him. and, for once, she let her emotion get the best of her. he caught it. of course he did.

                " spit it out , what is it exactly ? "

                " i said, the man i love. " it was a spur of the moment, for she had never imagined herself admitting this out loud, whether it was to him or to herself. but that wasn't true, was it ? she had already admitted THIS FACT to herself, that was why it slipped out before she knew it. the deeper he went with this operation, the deeper he weaved his web of lies and control over london, and the more times that man showed himself to interrupt their PLANS, the more the hacker felt uneasy. it was like a tug, that warning blared in her mind whenever the detective presented himself on their trails. that was why she blurted out in the heat of their discussion and argument over why she got herself involved;

                " how could i not intervene when i might lose the man i love !? "

                sherlock holmes was coming after them, and moriarty was more than confident that he could take him. of course, the mastermind would believe that given his caliber and accomplishment, his skills and intellect were unparalleled. kurenai herself, however, had witnessed their clashes and battles many times, and every single time, she felt as if the SHADOW looming behind his back got shorter and shorter, as though it a count down. she despised that feeling, the dreadful sensation creeping up her spine.

                the possibilities that the detective might become his downfall.

                CRIMSON HUES stared straight into his cyan optics. she didn't dare look away now, nor was she attempting to HIDE what she kept locked up inside all this time. she had always been by his side, the closest person to him. his most trusted ally. his strongest pawn on the chess board. he wanted the truth ? he's getting the truth. the ultimate truth.

                " i am in love with you, james moriarty. "

[girlygguk]

NOT IN THAT WAY | JJK (m)

summary in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.

★ based on this request ★

pairing non idol!jk x fem!reader (slightly ft. min yoongi)

wordcount 30k (20k main post, 10k reblog due to block limit)

genre childhood bffs2l, fluff, angst, smut

rating 18+ minors do not interact

content jk&oc 21 | yoongi&jia 22, unrequited love everywhere, yoongi is kind of villainized 😞, toxic friendships, jk and oc are v touchy n lovey friends, pining, pushover & lowk naive oc, protective jk, simp jk, a touch of he hates everyone but her trope, a lot of clichés, a lot of flashbacks, heated-ish arguments, panic/anxiety attack, alcohol consumption, a lil bitta jealousy, kissing under the influence, smoking (ciggies), cursing, non-detailed sex scene w yoongi, happy ending because it's me 😭 explicit content; dirty talk, nipple play, clit play, cunnilingus, condomless p in v sex (oc on pill), toy usage during sex (vibrator), multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of pillow talk

author's note this fic was basically built entirely in my old writing style, & while i did a fuckktonnn of editing, i'm still not 100% happy with the final product. but it's either post it now or i'll never post it! also... during said edits.. i think i took out most of the angst? 😭 i'm sorry angst luvvers, this is like 60% pure fluff and filth 😭

don't forget to read part 2! link at the end 🩷 (or don't, i wouldn't blame u xx)

main masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit

The rain drums against the windows of Jungkook’s Jeep as you cradle a six-pack of strawberry soju on your lap, the bottles clinking slightly with each bump in the road.

Jungkook hums softly to an old Linkin Park track from the mixtape he's played a hundred times before, the nostalgia pulling you in until you find yourself humming along without even realizing it.

He’d picked you up from your place not long ago, with a quick stop at the liquor store for beer and snacks, and now the two of you were about ten minutes away from Yoongi and Jia’s apartment.

You’ve been best friends with them for as long as you can remember—Jungkook, Yoongi, and Jia. Jungkook, just a little longer than the others. Growing up on the same street, realizing that the boy with the big bunny smile from your second-grade class lived right next door—it almost felt like fate.

‹ ‹ ‹

“How was school, honey?” Your mom leaned down to wrap you in a hug, her soft bangs brushing against your cheek.

Eight-year-old you giggled at the ticklish feeling before grabbing her hand and tugging her excitedly toward the school gates, eager to begin the walk home. “It was so fun, eomma! My teacher let us watch a movie since we finished all our work early!”

“Oooh, that’s nice, sweetie.” Your mom smiled warmly, easily keeping pace with you, her strides leisurely next to your quick, hurried steps.

The two of you chatted happily about your day, your little hand swinging in hers, when something up ahead caught your attention.

“Oh? Jeongguk-ssi!” you called out, your voice high with excitement.

Your mom followed your gaze and saw a young boy, about your age, walking just ahead of you. He turned at the sound of his name, curiosity lighting up his big eyes.

“Y/N-ssi? Hey!” Jungkook waved with that trademark bunny smile, and without missing a beat, you pulled your mom along as you ran up to him.

“I didn’t know you walked home!” you exclaimed, beaming. “This is my eomma!” You introduced her proudly while your mom greeted both Jungkook and his mother. “We’re walking home too!” you added with a grin.

“Cool,” Jungkook beamed before patting his mom on the arm. “This is my eomma! We live just down there.” His little hand reached out to point at a street just within view.

“No way!” you screeched, eyes wide in disbelief as you whipped around to look at your mom for confirmation. “That’s our street!” you shouted, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Wow… and we’re in the same class? This is getting weird,” Jungkook muttered, equally amazed. You both stood there, nodding at each other with wide, stunned eyes.

Your moms laughed at your expressions before yours turned to his. “Should we walk together?”

“Yes!” you cried, bouncing on your toes. “I want to talk to Jeongguk-ssi about the movie we watched today!”

You didn’t even wait for an answer, slipping out of your mom’s grasp to walk beside Jungkook, chattering away as if you’d known each other for thirty years already.

Jungkook’s mom chuckled, falling into step with yours as they followed closely behind, chatting about mom things while you and Jungkook walked ahead, engrossed in your conversation about 'Robots'. You were so caught up that you didn’t even realize you’d arrived home until your mom gently pulled you to a stop.

“We’re home, sweetie. Time to go in and start your homework before dinner. You’ll see Jungkook tomorrow, okay?” Your mom’s soft voice pulled you from your excitement, and you looked up at her with a pout.

“Okay…” you sighed, turning back to Jungkook, who was still smiling at you. His expression confused you. He wasn’t sad to leave like you were… Why wasn’t he upset? You thought the conversation was going great…

“Y/N-ssi, I live right there!” Jungkook exclaimed suddenly, bouncing on his toes as he pointed toward the house directly next to yours.

Your eyes followed where he pointed before snapping back to him in an instant, your pigtails flying. “Wow! We can walk to school together and-and walk home together and talk about movies! And you’re wearing a Superman t-shirt, and I’ve seen half of the Superman movie! This is so cool!”

Jungkook didn’t correct you—his shirt wasn’t Superman, it was Iron Man, his favorite hero of all-time. But he didn’t care. He just grinned, matching your excitement with a big nod.

Jungkook’s mom chuckled again, tapping him on the shoulder. “Okay, Gukkie, we better go start your homework, too.” She turned to your mom with a warm smile. “I’ll give you a call later to talk about what we mentioned before, Bora?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Thanks, Hyomin.” Your mom gave her arm a quick squeeze before gently guiding you inside.

“Bye, Gukkie! See you tomorrow!” you called out, using the nickname you heard his mom call him as he walked up his driveway with her.

“Bye, Y/N-ssi! See you tomorrow!” he grinned before disappearing inside with Hyomin.

The next day, your moms walked you both to school, chatting as they went, and when they left, they seemed to head off in the same direction.

That evening, you found out they’d gone for coffee to get to know each other better, and it turned out they got along incredibly well. At the time, their husbands were the ones working while they stayed home to care for the kids and the house. It wasn't long before they were exchanging recipes, enjoying wine nights together, and becoming each other’s go-to babysitters whenever one had an appointment. Soon, they were inseparable.

Just like you and Jungkook.

› › ›

You first met Jia and Yoongi about six months later, when you and Jungkook moved up to third grade. It was a combined class of third and fourth-graders, with Jia and Yoongi a year older than you both. Since the activities were separated by gender, you and Jia naturally grew close, always being paired up or placed in the same groups for subjects. It was the same for Jungkook and Yoongi.

Jia was beautiful. From the day you met her, you knew she was in a league of her own with her looks— naturally wavy raven hair, long lashes, and starry eyes that made her stand out in any crowd.

As you all grew older, Jia only became more stunning, her confidence blossoming with age. By high school, she had every boy wrapped around her finger. And she knew it.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for Yoongi to be one of those boys.

Jungkook was the first to know about your insatiable crush on Yoongi. Of course he was. He was your best friend, the peanut butter to your jelly, the moon to your light. You’d confided in him when you first realized around middle school that your feelings for Yoongi had shifted, that you didn't just like him as a friend anymore.

You told Jia, too. But she seemed to brush it off as just an innocent childhood crush, something that would fade with time. When she and Yoongi only grew closer, eventually making it official during your senior year of high school, you felt like you were going to die.

You love Jia. She's an incredible friend, and she deserves all the good things the boy you were in love with had to offer.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t a jealous person, the ache in your chest was impossible to ignore. And every time you visit their shared apartment, which they moved into not long after their second anniversary, you can’t stop that very ache from resurfacing as soon as you step through the threshold.

“Hey. We’re-o—”

Jungkook’s words die on his lips as soon as he steps into the doorway of Yoongi and Jia’s apartment, his body freezing in place. You don’t have time to stop, bumping into his back, the soju in your arms rattling with the impact. Jungkook turns around to steady you before Jia's voice rips through the room.

“You always fucking do this! I’m so sick of it, Yoongi! Seriously! I can’t fucking take it anymore!” She storms toward the kitchen counter, snatching up her jacket and keys. Her eyes pass right over you and Jungkook as if you weren’t there, and she shoves past you both in her rush to leave.

“Yeah, walk away like you always do, Jia.” Yoongi’s laughter is bitter as he follows her to the door. “I’ll see you at, what, 10 o’clock when you come crying back, saying that you’re sorry and you overreacted again?”

You exchange a glance with Jungkook, both of you fidgeting uncomfortably with the drinks in your hands. This was just supposed to be one of your usual Friday hangouts… but instead, you’ve walked straight into a war zone.

Jia’s already halfway down the hall when she whirls around, her eyes blazing with venom. “No, I won’t.” Her voice is sharp, her tone final. “I’m done, Yoongi. We’re done.”

Yoongi’s face falters immediately, and in all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him look this lost. “What?” His voice softens, a note of desperation creeping in as he steps toward her. She shakes her head, holding up a hand to stop him.

“I’m serious, Yoongi. I can’t do this anymore. We need a break… some time apart.”

Even though they fight often, the look on Yoongi’s face tells you that this is different. That maybe she’s never called it quits like this before.

“Wh—jagi? No, don’t—no… just get some air? Please? We’ll talk later, okay?” Yoongi’s voice cracks, and you feel your brows furrow, your heart aching at his tone.

Jungkook silently sets his beer on the counter, gently taking the soju from your arms and placing it beside his. He returns to your side, his arm slipping around yours. The warmth of his touch grounds you, but your eyes stay fixed on the man you love, who looks like he’s about to fall apart right in front of you.

“This is toxic. We’re toxic, Yoongi. We fight every single day. This isn’t love… this is—I don’t even know what this is.” Jia’s voice trembles, her grip tightening around her keys as she struggles to keep her tears at bay.

Your instinct is to step forward, to offer your best friend comfort, but she rejects your gesture, wiping away the tears that have just started streaming down her face. Her face contorts in pain, causing your lips to purse as you itch to pull her into a hug. Jungkook moves close behind you, his presence reassuring, but you aren’t the one who needs comforting right now—Jia and Yoongi are. Jungkook doesn’t move, just leans against the wall next to you, his gaze fixed on the ground.

“Jia, please.” Yoongi’s voice is raw, a pleading tone you’ve never heard from him before. You glance at him, your chest tightening as you see his eyes all glossy and red.

You have witnessed plenty of arguments between Jia and Yoongi over the years. Whether it was when you were all just friends in school and they disagreed on something, or when they’d suddenly break out into a heated fight during a night out at your favorite bar. But this one feels so different, and you don't know what to do.

You shift a little, moving to stand properly beside Jungkook, your head tilting up to meet his gaze. He glances down at you, about to ask if you're okay right as you’re about to suggest you guys go back inside, but Jia’s voice cuts through the air again.

“I’m gonna go stay with my mom. I’ll get my brother to come pick up my things… I need space, Yoongi.”

You swear you see the exact moment his heart snaps in two. His knees almost buckle when Jia turns around without another word, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, desperate to get out of the building as fast as she can.

Immediately, you and Jungkook rush to Yoongi, enveloping him in a tight hug. The dam breaks, and he begins sobbing in your embrace, his body trembling between the two of you. His breath carries the faint, bitter scent of alcohol as he struggles to catch his breath. You sigh, realizing the argument probably escalated because they’d both been drinking.

After a moment of rubbing his back soothingly, you suddenly glance up at Jungkook in alarm, which he returns with a puzzled look.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, tilting your head back to search his tear-streaked face, gently wiping away the streams flowing down his cheeks. “Honey, has Jia been drinking too?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, still too distraught to process your question. His sobs only deepen, his body shaking with every breath.

Jungkook immediately understands, his hand lightly rubbing the back of Yoongi’s neck before he pulls away, quickly disappearing down the staircase that Jia had descended.

“Come on, hun, let’s go inside,” you murmur, guiding the broken boy toward the couch. His legs are heavy, dragging as you help him into the apartment with an arm around his waist.

Once inside, you manage to coax him onto the couch, gently urging him to sit down. His face is flushed, streaked with tears, and your heart wrenches at the sight. You pull the throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it carefully over his lap.

The sheer amount of tears pouring from his eyes leaves your brows furrowed almost permanently. You’ve never seen Yoongi like this before—so utterly broken. Whether it’s the alcohol or the depth of this fight with Jia, you don’t know, but you feel sick to your fucking stomach.

You head to the kitchen, filling a glass of water before returning to Yoongi’s side. Sitting down next to him, you adjust the blanket so it covers both your legs and his. “Here, Yoongi. Drink some water, please?” you offer, gently wiping away the moisture clinging to his cheeks.

With a sniffle and a hiccup, Yoongi glances at you, then wraps his trembling hand around the cup. He takes a few gulps, finishing about half before you gently set it back on the coffee table. Then, you rest your head on his shoulder.

The room feels unbearably quiet now, and you don’t know what to say, how to make any of this better. “I’m so sorry, Yoongi.”

“I can’t believe it’s over.” His tears have stopped, but his voice is hoarse. His sad, dilated eyes lock onto yours, making your heart ache even more. “She’s all I’ve ever known, Y/N. I don’t know what to fucking do. What—what do I do?” His voice cracks.

“I…” You hesitate, your mind scrambling for something, anything that could comfort him. But for once, you don’t have an answer. “I have no idea, hun…”

You’re no stranger to giving Yoongi advice about Jia, and vice versa. You’ve practically become an expert over the years. But right now, you’re absolutely clueless.

Your best friend nods, his lips pursing to the side as he tries not to cry again. You exhale, your breath shaky as you shift to face him when he turns away. The blanket slips slightly, and your hands instinctively reach out to adjust it over his lap. But then, his trembling hand lands on yours, stopping you.

Your gaze lifts to his face, brows furrowing in concern. There’s a look in his eyes—something you've never quite seen before.

“Yoongi? Are you—mmf—”

His lips are warm, tasting faintly of Laphroaig—his favorite whiskey. The smoky sweetness floods your senses, dazing you as if you’d taken the bottle and downed the entire thing yourself. Suddenly, you're letting him guide you onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist as the blanket slips to the floor, forgotten.

Your mind blanks as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping past your lips in a desperate, feverish attempt to lose himself. His grip tightens, and he swallows your surprised gasp, pulling you closer, as if trying to drown out his heartache in the heat of you.

The realization hits you like a fucking truck.

You immediately jerk away, gasping for breath, your body trembling as you quickly scramble off his lap. Your legs feel weak as you collapse back onto the couch beside him, your wide eyes staring blankly at the wall above the TV.

Their TV.

A tense, painful silence fills the room, and you think you’re gonna puke.

Your lips still tingle with the memory of his, your heart pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. That was everything you’ve ever fucking wanted—but for all the wrong fucking reasons.

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, yanking you out of your spiral. Clearing your throat awkwardly, you pull the device from your jeans and push yourself off the couch, stepping toward the kitchenette as you answer the call with shaky hands.

“Hey, bug. I’ve got Jia.” Jungkook’s voice soothes the crease in your brow before you even realize it. “She’s sleeping in the back. I’m going to drop her at her mom’s, and then I’ll come back to get you. Is Yoongi okay?”

You glance back at Yoongi, who's still sitting in stunned silence on the couch. “Ye—kkkhmm—yes, he’s fine. Okay, I’ll see you when you get back.”

Yep. Of course your voice broke. He won’t ignore that.

“Bug?” His tone softens, laced with concern. You close your eyes, trying to hold back the tears that spring to your eyes. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you choke back the cry building in your throat, glancing over your shoulder at Yoongi. His head is buried in his hands, elbows pressed hard into his knees. “I’m okay, Gukkie. Just get Jia to her mom’s, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Jungkook goes quiet for a long second at your quivering voice. “No, bug. I’m gonna come get you first. Tell me why you’re crying, please.”

Your chest tightens, and when you try to speak, your voice cracks again. You roll your teary eyes, swiping your free hand roughly over your face. “‘ll tell you later, Gukkie. Please, just… please take Jia to her mom’s.”

He goes quiet again, and if it weren’t for the sound of his windshield wipers squeaking against the glass, you would have thought he hung up.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he fights the urge to turn the car around right now and drive back to get you. If Yoongi is the reason you’re crying... Fuck, he can’t even finish the thought.

“I’ll be back to get you in thirty minutes, okay?” he manages to say, his pulse pounding.

“Thank you, Gukkie. I love you, please drive safe.”

“I love you too, bug,” he sighs before letting you disconnect the call.

Jungkook glances up at his rearview mirror to see a sleeping Jia sprawled out on his backseat, soft snores escaping her lips. He doesn’t entirely hate Jia, but he can’t ignore how poorly she treats you, no matter how much you try to convince him otherwise.

What kind of person feels the need to one-up their friend in every aspect of life? What kind of person knows about the insecurities that their beautiful, amazing friend has, but discredits them and forces them outside of their comfort zone anyway? What kind of person learns about the feelings their friend harbors for someone, and shortly after, goes for that person just to prove they can?

Whether Jia does it subconsciously or not, whether her intentions are ill or not, whether you notice or not, Jungkook sees everything.

At the end of the day, it’s you he cares about. You are his best friend. You are the love of his life. You are the one he will protect at all costs when it comes down to it. You are the one he will choose.

You will not get hurt in the crossfire of Yoongi and Jia’s fucked-up relationship. Jungkook will make sure of that.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is quiet—the quietest Yoongi has ever heard, and his heart splinters.

His head lifts from his hands, eyes searching for you. You’re standing a few feet away, the distance between you obvious, and he almost cringes. “Don't, bug. Are you okay? I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s still strange to hear Yoongi call you the nickname Jungkook gave you what feels like a hundred years ago, but you can’t ignore the warmth it stirs in your chest when he does.

“Of course I’m okay,” you say carefully. “You’re hurting... People do silly things when they’re hurting.”

Yoongi’s breath hitches, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, bug, I—”

“You didn’t.” You’re quiet again, and he freezes, confusion knitting his brows. “Make me, um, uncomfortable.”

He scoffs under his breath, hands rubbing at his temples. “Sure seems like I did.”

“No, you could never make—”

“Y/N, don’t say that. I kissed you. I pulled you on top of me—”

“I let you—”

“I took advantage of you—”

“You didn’t—”

“Stop fucking defending me! Stop thinking the best of me—”

“I’m not—”

“You are! You always do! Even when I act like a complete piece of shi—”

“I love you.”

The room falls into a suffocating silence. Yeah, you’re definitely going to puke now.

Yoongi’s hands slowly fall away from his face, his eyes desperate to meet yours. But you refuse to look at him. Your gaze stays fixed on the rug you helped Jia pick out from your favorite vintage home decor store. You’re going to get vomit all over such a pretty rug.

“Bug…” His voice is soft, pleading. You don’t look up. You don’t move. You can’t.

You’ve said “I love you” to Yoongi plenty of times before. But you know that you can’t possibly play this off as another friendly declaration. You know he caught what you really meant.

Over a decade of hiding and suppressing your feelings for him, just for you to suddenly blurt it out because you couldn’t bear to hear him talk badly about himself? And to think your stupid therapist said your chronic people-pleasing tendencies were getting better.

“Y/N. Please.” You didn’t even realize he’d stood from the couch, didn’t notice him moving closer. But you feel it when his shaky hand gently lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“You don’t mean that,” he murmurs, shaking his head slowly, his eyes filled with sadness as he takes in your expression.

“Okay.” You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks despite your efforts to hold them back. “I didn’t mean it. Let’s just forget it happened—”

“You can’t love me, bug.” He looks like he’s in so much pain, and your stomach clenches. He’s repulsed by the idea of you loving him in that way. God, you wished that you’d just stayed home tonight and watched movies with Jungkook like he had suggested.

Who were you even kidding? Yoongi is in—well, was in—a relationship with one of the most gorgeous, fierce, and confident women you’ve ever met. Jia is everything a man could want. He loves her. Obviously, he loves her. How pathetic could you be?

“Yoongi, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I even said that. I’m so stupid.” You sniffle, and Yoongi sighs deeply, his thumb brushing away the tear that spills down your cheek. “Please forget it. Please, let’s just forge—”

But he cuts you off, his lips crashing into yours again, more intense this time. His kiss pulls you under before you can even think to resist, and it's not long before your body completely surrenders. Your lips part, letting him in, stifling the urge to moan as his tongue meets yours. Yoongi’s hands move from your jaw to thread through your hair, pulling you closer, and suddenly, everything—right, wrong, loyalty, friendship—fades. It’s just him.

A deep groan vibrates from his throat, and you capture it, drinking it in as your head spins. Your hands unfreeze and find their way to his chest, feeling the warmth beneath the fabric of his shirt. You grip the material, tugging him even closer, satisfaction surging through you as he presses himself against you.

Yoongi pulls back, just for a moment, and you force yourself not to chase his lips. Your eyes flutter open, taking in the sight of his swollen pout and reddened cheeks. “I didn’t know, Y/N…”

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I know. It’s okay, really. You don’t have to—”

“I didn’t know that you had feelings for me, too.”

Your hands jerk back, the fabric slipping from your fingers as you stumble away. What?

“What?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

No? That’s not. No.

“Of course I love you, bug.” Yoongi’s eyes soften, and his words spill out like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What’s not to love? You’re smart, funny, pretty, sweet… Anybody would be lucky to have you.”

Your head starts shaking furiously, your brain scrambling to process what he’s saying. “You’re—a-are you drunk? You don’t mean that. You can’t just say something like that to me if you don’t mean it—”

“You know me, Y/N. You know my tolerance, and I’ve barely had much to drink. I’m just really emotional tonight. But I mean it, I do love you.”

You stare at him, the boy you’ve loved in secret for years, the one you’ve cried over, wishing for this exact moment. And now, the words you’ve always dreamed of are tumbling from his lips.

But… where are the fireworks?

There’s no rainbow-colored burst in your head, no magical release of all the pain you’ve carried, no sense of it washing down a metaphorical drain. You pout at the thought.

You feel happy, yes. Relieved, yes. Confused… yes.

A soft thudding noise furrows Jungkook’s brows as he twists the handle to Yoongi’s apartment door.

The lights in the living room are on. There’s a blanket sprawled across the rug you really wanted from your favorite vintage home decor store—the one Jia bought because she said it would look cute in her new apartment. Your sandals are neatly placed next to the doormat, but you’re nowhere in sight.

Jungkook peeks into the nearby rooms, checking the main bathroom and laundry, both empty. His steps slow as he reaches Yoongi and Jia’s bedroom, where a sliver of light spills from beneath the door. His hand hovers over the knob before it freezes, his blood running cold.

“Oh! Fuck!” Your sweet voice rings in his ears, rendering him immobile.

No.

No, bug… Fuck.

The thudding noise he heard when he entered the apartment returns, now registering loud and clear as the headboard of Yoongi’s bed slamming harshly into the wall. Jungkook tries to move, tries to turn around and leave, but he can’t.

“Shit, bug! You like that?”

Jungkook’s fist tightens around the doorknob as he hears his best friend call you by his nickname while he fucks you. He’s got some fucking nerve.

“Mhmm, I-I love ittt.”

Jungkook stumbles back from the door as he feels the bile rising in his throat. He heads to the kitchen, chest tightening painfully with every step. He grabs a glass, fills it with water, and downs it in three gulps. Then he fills it again, downs it again. And again. And again.

He repeats the action until his eyes are watering and he can’t force himself to swallow another mouthful. The sick feeling clawing at his throat remains unaffected. He's gonna fucking pass out.

He’s shaking now as he carefully sets the glass in the dishwasher. Then, he walks to the door and removes his shoes, lining them up perfectly alongside yours. After turning off the light, Jungkook walks to the couch and bends down to pick up the ugly blanket draped across your pretty little rug.

Your body clock wakes you as it does every morning. Groggily, your hand reaches out, searching for your phone on your bedside table. But instead of the familiar hard surface, your fingers only encounter more mattress instead.

‹ ‹ ‹

“Okay, can you pass me two screw C’s, please, Gukkie?” you asked, eyes bouncing between the half-built table you were trying your best to put together.

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment, his hand hovering over the screw C’s even though he knew it was actually screw B’s you needed for that part. He glanced over, catching sight of your little pout, and grabbed two screw B’s, plopping them into your hand.

“Thank you—” you started, pausing when you noticed the bolts weren’t what you thought. “Gukkie, no, I need screw C’s.”

“No, bug, you need screw B’s.” He rubbed your leg, which was bumping against his as you both sat cross-legged on the floor of your new apartment.

“What—I… huh?” you mumbled in confusion, glancing from the manual to the table, then back to the manual. “Ohhhh, fuuuckk!”

You dropped the screws and manual with a whine, pulling your knees up and burying your face in them. “I’ve gotten the last three steps backward! I’ll have to basically unassemble it and—ugh!” you groaned, grumbling into Jungkook’s shoulder when he laughed, catching you as you flopped against him. “Should’ve just let you build it like you wanted to,” you muttered.

Jungkook just shrugged, glancing at the table. “S’okay. Won’t take me long. Want to order our dinner?”

You glanced up at your best friend, hands reaching to grab his cheeks and squeeze them. “Yes. Thank you. I love you.” He turned his face to give your hand a quick kiss, nodding as he reached for the table pieces. “I love you more. My phone’s over there,” he gestured to the couch behind you, a silent invitation to use his delivery app.

You nodded, grabbing his phone and angling away just enough so he wouldn’t see you switch to your own device instead. He never let you pay, but he was building your furniture...

You’d happily take the scolding once your bellies were full and your cute new table was standing next to your bed.

› › ›

Confused, you open your eyes, only to be met with the sight of a blank beige wall. But… your walls aren't beige?

And then it hits you.

Yoongi.

You and Yoongi.

The arm wrapped firmly around your waist tugs you closer as Yoongi nuzzles into your back, still half-asleep. You freeze, your heart skipping a beat, before gently trying to pull the blanket up over your exposed chest. But even in his sleep, his grip on you remains strong. You’re about to tug a little harder when you suddenly remember.

Jungkook.

Holy fuck, Jungkook. He was supposed to come back for you. He must have, but you weren’t out there waiting for him. Panic surges through you as you scramble out of the bed, not even thinking as you leap for your jeans discarded on the bedroom floor.

Yoongi stirs, a confused grunt escaping him as his eyes slowly open, watching you frantically search your pants. “I would say I’m hurt you’re rushing to get dressed so quickly,” he drawls, voice husky with sleep, “but your ass looks fantastic from here, so I’ll let it slide…”

You roll your eyes with a little smile, still focused on finding your phone. Climbing back into bed once you have it in hand, he watches with a twinkly smirk, the bruise he left above your left nipple making his morning wood throb a little. His head tilts up to capture your lips, and you almost drop your phone at the feeling, but you don’t let it last too long before flopping back next to him, finally opening your messages app.

[7:36 AM] To: Gukkie good morning, gukkie. i’m soooo sorry i didn’t call you last night. i have so much to tell you. please text me back when you wake up, okay? i love you 💗

You scroll back to the last message, a photo from Jungkook of an anime figurine he found at the gas station yesterday on his way to pick you up. He said it reminded him of you.

You’ve never been much into anime—only knowing what you do from when you go over to his place and finish the episode he’s currently watching with him—but the character was so cute. Maybe you’ll ask him to show you the series later.

You’re just about to ask Yoongi if you can borrow his charger because your phone’s at 5%, but his phone rings, interrupting your question. He presses a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning over to grab his phone from the bedside table. As he glances at the screen, a sigh slips from his lips, his hand running through his hair in a familiar gesture that tells you exactly who’s calling. A knot forms in your stomach as you focus back on your phone, pretending to be preoccupied with the screen.

Clad only in his boxers, Yoongi gets up and quietly slips into the ensuite, shutting the door behind him. His voice is low, muffled by the walls, but you don’t try to listen. Instead, you lean over to his bedside table, searching for a charger amongst the clutter, but come up empty. After a quick check of the drawers and still finding nothing, you sigh.

Just as you’re about to get up and search the rest of the room, you glance back at your phone in your lap. The messages app is still open, and your heart stutters when you notice the read receipt on the last text you sent.

Read 7:37 AM.

Jungkook’s awake? Maybe he’s just in the bathroom and will reply soon. Or maybe you woke him up, and he was too tired to respond. Or maybe he’s mad at you for ditching him yesterday. Guilt twists in your chest, and you bite hard on your inner lip, knowing you’ve just earned yourself a spot in the Shitty Friend Hall of Fame after last night.

You're typing another message to Jungkook when the ensuite door opens. You glance up, only to find Yoongi stepping back into the room with a somber expression. His movements are slow, careful. Your stomach drops.

Suddenly, you’re all too aware of how underdressed you are. Your phone slips from your fingers into the blankets without a thought as you scramble back up to grab your shirt from the floor. Your throat feels scratchy, and you clear it awkwardly, desperate to fill the silence as you tug the fabric over your head. Yoongi watches your frantic movements and sighs as he reaches out to you, but you pull away, avoiding his touch.

His voice is strained. “Bug…” 

God, you’re so fucking stupid. Of course, this was nothing to him. You were nothing but a momentary distraction, a warm body to offer comfort while he was hurting. Of course it takes one five-minute call from your beautiful best friend to have him regretting everything that happened between you.

Holy fuck. Jia.

She’s going to be furious. She's going to kill you. She’s going to hate you.

Panic rises in your chest, and your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes. You stumble back slightly, grabbing for your jeans again, but your hands are shaking too much to pull them on. Yoongi steps closer, taking the jeans from your hands, his fingers brushing against your skin, warm and gentle.

And that’s when you break.

He pulls you into his arms as you lose it, sobbing uncontrollably, ugly and snotty. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Jia and I… we’re gonna try to work on things… There’s just so much history, and we weren’t thinking clearly last night. I’m so—”

“No, I’m…” you choke out between hiccups, wrenching free from his arms, hurriedly wiping your eyes and nose. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh my god, she’s going to hate me. What have I done? I-I—”

Your words falter as a wave of dizziness hits you, and your vision begins to blur at the edges. Your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears that it drowns out everything else. The tightness in your chest makes it hard to breathe, each breath becoming shallower, more frantic. “Yoong—”

The room is closing in on you, suffocating. The panic seizes your lungs, and even the minimal clothing you’re wearing feels too heavy, too much.

It’s been two years since your last episode and you'd almost forgotten how they felt like. But right now, but the feeling is all too fucking familiar.

Yoongi’s eyes widen in alarm. He’s saying your name, you think, but all you can hear is the deafening thud of your own heartbeat. Your hands tremble uncontrollably, and before you know it, you collapse to the floor, curling into yourself.

Head on your knees. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Just like your nurse taught you. Just like your best friend practiced with you for hours until you both experts in the method.

But it’s not working. It’s not fucking working.

“Y/N?” Yoongi’s voice rises in panic, his eyes wide and helpless. “Y/N, please. What’s happening? What do I do? I-I’m going to call an ambu—”

The door to Yoongi’s room slams open, hitting the wall with a thud at the force it was thrown open. Within seconds, Yoongi is shoved aside, and the warmth of strong arms wraps around you. You don’t even have to look up; you’d recognize his touch and scent anywhere. The most comforting, familiar presence in your life surrounds you, and while it barely steadies your racing pulse, it feels like everything.

Your body shudders with a fresh wave of tears as Jungkook pulls you into him, his arms cradling you while he gently rocks you back and forth. His lips press softly against the top of your head. “‘S’ok, bug,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm. “Just focus on your breathing. In and out, remember? I’m here. I’m with you. We’re here together. We’re okay.”

“Kook…” Yoongi’s strained voice cuts through, watching helplessly as you cling desperately to Jungkook’s shirt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to—”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook interrupts, his voice low, firm, almost dangerous as he speaks without taking his eyes off of you. “When she’s okay, we’re going to leave.”

Yoongi immediately agrees, his expression growing more concerned as he watches you fall apart in Jungkook’s arms, “Y-yeah-uh, yeah, I can drive you guys if—”

“If you or Jia ever drag her into your fucked-up situation again,” Jungkook finally lifts his gaze from you, staring coldly into Yoongi’s eyes as he continues, “you will both regret it.”

You’re slowly regaining control, your breathing evening out, but you’re still too drained to form words. You want to tell Jungkook that it’s not Yoongi’s fault. That you were just as much to blame. That you made this mess, too. But the words won’t come. You’re too spent, too weak to defend him.

Jungkook watches as you struggle to speak, your breath still uneven but slowly regulating. His focus is entirely on you, not caring about whatever unreadable expression Yoongi is wearing. Anger, regret—whatever the fuck, Jungkook couldn’t care less. All that matters to him is that your sobs have finally stopped and your breathing is settling.

You’re still trying to speak, no doubt in an attempt to defend your other best friend. The other best friend who’s standing a foot away from you looking like he was going to have a panic attack. Fucking pathetic, Jungkook thinks.

His gaze softens as he brushes his thumbs gently across your cheeks, wiping away the lingering tears. You pull back slightly, clearing your throat to try and gather your strength.

He raises an eyebrow in disapproval, silently telling you to stop straining yourself, but he lets it slide without comment. Your hand hastily moves to wipe your nose, your chest tightening in embarrassment by the state you’re in.

Jungkook moves your hand away, lifting the bottom of his t-shirt to gently wipe under your nose, the way someone would for a baby when they couldn't blow their own.

A raspy laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it and Jungkook’s lips quirk up at the sound, a little weight lifting from his heart as he finally sees you smile. He finishes wiping your face and lets the t-shirt fall back down, his hands resting on yours where they’ve settled on his leg.

“First one in a while,” he murmurs softly, still ignoring Yoongi’s presence across the room, allowing you to play absentmindedly with his hand.

“Yeah,” you nod, sniffing one last time. “Thought they were gone… Thank you for helping m—” Your voice falters, confusion clouding your expression as you look up at him. “Wait, how are you here? Where did you—when did you—”

“He slept here. On the couch.”

Yoongi’s voice interrupts, and your gaze snaps to him, brows knitting further in confusion. What? He knew Jungkook was here? And didn’t tell you? “Wha—”

“Saw him when I went to grab water in the middle of the night,” Yoongi adds, resting casually against his dresser.

Annoyance flickers inside you, and you don’t even know why. Maybe it’s the fact that Yoongi didn’t tell you Jungkook was sleeping out there, alone on the couch. Or maybe it’s the sudden wave of nausea rising in your throat at the realization that Jungkook might have heard everything.

“You ready to go?” Jungkook’s gentle voice pulls you back to the present, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. He leans forward and grabs your jeans from the floor, handing them to you without a word. You give a quick nod, accepting them and walking to the ensuite to put them on.

A few minutes later, you emerge from the bathroom, looking a little more put together. Your face is rinsed, and your hair is tied back into a ponytail, but the redness around your eyes remains, making Jungkook’s stomach churn. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you cross the room silently.

You step forward, hugging Yoongi tightly, your voice small. “I’m really sorry, Yoongi. I just—”

“Don’t,” Yoongi cuts you off, shaking his head. “You don’t need to apologize, bug.”

Jungkook, who had been waiting near the doorway, catches the end of your conversation. His jaw clenches when he hears Yoongi say, “I won’t mention anything to Jia.”

You nod, assuming he means that he’ll let you break the news to her yourself. “Thanks, Yoongi. I’ll come see her later toni—”

“No, bug.” Yoongi interrupts again, his tone a little firmer this time. “I won’t say anything at all...”

You blink, confused. Your brows knit together as you search his face, trying to understand. He wanted to keep this a secret? From Jia, one of your best friends? The woman he’s in love with?

When it seems like you can’t find the words to say, Jungkook approaches quietly, your sandals in hand, nudging them toward you. You break your gaze from Yoongi to slip into them, but your eyes flick back to him, silently begging for more explanation. He offers none.

Jungkook stands close and quietly behind you, waiting for you to finish up, and he hopes you do it soon because he really doesn’t want to be in this house anymore. You finally avert your gaze from Yoongi, still confused and dazed, but suddenly desperate to leave. Jungkook reads the look instantly, repressing back what he really wants to say to Yoongi for the sake of your presence, slipping his hand into yours before leading you out of the apartment.

“Damn it,” Jungkook mutters, clicking his tongue in frustration, the sound echoing in the roomy cabin of his Jeep.

You glance over at him after fiddling with the knob of his car heater, noting his annoyed features. “Hm? You okay?”

“We left our drinks there.” A borderline adorable pout coats his lips as he sighs, and despite the heaviness in your chest, you can’t help but smile.

“It’s okay.” You shrug, looking down at your lap. “Don’t want them anymore.”

Jungkook glances at you, and the moment his eyes catch your expression, his heart twists. He wants to cup your face in his hands, massage your frown away, and tell you everything will be fine. But at the same time, all he can think about is driving back to Yoongi’s apartment after he drops you off at home and beating the ever-loving shit out of him.

He’s so fucking angry.

Angry at how Yoongi would claim such a priceless fucking gift from the sweetest fucking girl and leave her hurt in the process. Angry at how he knows you’re blaming yourself for everything that happened last night when he would bet every cent to his name that you have nothing to be truly sorry for. Angry at the thought of how Jia will react, and how devastated you’re going to be. He knows Jia’s history well enough to predict that she will somehow make this all your fault.

Jungkook's grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white as he takes a shaky breath. “It’s not your fault, bug,” he says as softly as he can in his vexed state.

Your eyes fill with tears again, and a sad laugh escapes you. “Of course it is.”

Jungkook shakes his head, his jaw tightening as he signals right and pulls over to the side of the road. As soon as the engine cuts off, his hand finds yours, and he turns to face you. “Bug—”

“I told him, you know,” you sniffle through a short chuckle, cringing at what a shit-show this whole ordeal is. “I told him I loved him. And-and he said he loved me too.”

Jungkook’s heart stops. “He what?” He doesn’t know if you heard his words; he barely heard them himself. But when you purse your lips and nod sarcastically, he knows that you did.

“Yup. Said that I’m pretty and sweet and funny and that anyone would be lucky to have me.” You scoff bitterfly, using the hand not in the grasp of Jungkook’s to wipe your tears. “Apparently not anyone because he clearly didn’t want me. God, I’m so pathetic. This is all just so pathetic.”

You finish wiping your face and dry your hand on your jeans, your thumb gently rubbing over Jungkook’s knuckles. “Sorry, Gukkie,” you croak, sensing the way he tensed up and went quiet, probably due to all of your whining. “I’m done, promise. No more crying.”

Jungkook remains still, his brows furrowed as his gaze is fixed on nothing in particular, lost in thought. “Gukkie?” you ask softly, nudging his hand with your finger to snap him out of it. Nothing.

You squint at him playfully, deciding to poke his cheek this time. It works, though the reaction is faint—a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, but you catch it.

Your head tilts as you move your finger from his cheek down to his lips, ready to poke again, but your focus wavers. His lips. They’re so pink. So plump. So pretty.

“You are the furthest thing from pathetic, bug.” His voice is soft, drawing your attention back to his words, but your eyes remain on his lips. You smile at the way they shape each letter, his slight lisp curling around certain syllables.

A quiet sigh leaves you, and your hand drops to the buckle of his seatbelt, releasing it with a click. You unfasten your own as well before leaning over the center console. Jungkook’s hands move instinctively, helping guide you as you crawl into his lap, melting into his embrace.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer and making sure you’re comfortable in his lap. One hand plays gently with your ponytail while the other traces soothing circles on your back. You bury your face in the curve of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent—a blend of his cologne that defied the night and the comforting aroma of soft linen that always reminds you of him.

“Don’t deserve you,” you mumble, your breath tickling his skin. His muscles relax instantly, his body turning to mush under your weight.

Cuddling like this isn’t anything new for the two of you. It’s become your go-to after a rough day at work, or at uni. Whenever you meet him at his car after class, you more often than not end up in this exact position.

Jungkook remembers that one time a classmate walked past and saw you in his lap, assuming you were doing more than just seeking comfort from your best friend. You got so embarrassed that you stopped cuddling him in his car for a while. Jungkook hadn’t cared at all, but he realized it really bothered you. So, maybe he booked his Jeep in for window tinting that night.

But even though this is routine, it doesn’t stop Jungkook from from turning into a lovesick puppy when you do end up snuggling him. Because he does. Every single time.

“If anyone deserves me, it’s you, bug,” he responds quietly.

Your hand strokes through his tousled hair, your fingers occasionally scratching his scalp the way he likes, and Jungkook has to bite back a pathetic whine. The way you hold him, the way your nose brushes against his neck, it’s too much and not enough at the same time. “I love you, Gukkie. I’m sorry for being such a bad friend.”

“I love you too, bug,” he replies easily, tugging your shirt down as it rides up when you snuggle deeper into him. “But if you say one more untrue, negative thing about yourself, you’re walking to uni tomorrow.” The half-hearted threat is followed by a gentle nudge of his head.

You pull back slightly, observing him quietly. His eyes are closed, his head resting peacefully against the seat. He looks so content, so at ease, and you wish he could stay like this forever.

Jungkook senses your gaze and squints his eyes open, a single brow raising in question. He adjusts your ponytail with a soft touch, waiting for you to say something. But you just shake your head and give him a sweet smile before climbing off his lap and settling back into your seat.

“Can we go watch that anime with the girl you said reminds you of me?”

It’s been eight days since that night. Yoongi and Jia have reunited like nothing ever happened, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. He still hasn’t told her.

You’ve seen them at university during the weekdays since then, and everything is normal. Jia has been normal, Yoongi has been normal. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Three days ago, at the peak of your anxiety from keeping the secret, you caved.

The second you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, phone gripped tightly in your shaky hands. After six long rings, Yoongi finally picked up.

“Hey, Y/N—”

“I feel fucking sick, Yoongi. Please tell her. The longer we wait, the worse it’s going to be. This isn’t okay.”

Yoongi’s sigh came low through the receiver, already giving you that sinking feeling in your chest. He's not going to tell her.

“She doesn’t need to know. It doesn’t concern her. It was just a simple mistake, and we weren’t even together at the time, bug. It's fine.”

It was just a simple mistake.

If you didn’t already feel pathetic, you sure as hell do now.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe she doesn’t need to know.

You’ve tried convincing yourself of that ever since your phone call. But deep down, you know that if the situation were reversed, you’d want to know.

Not that you ever would be, because Jia would never do something as horrible as this to you.

Over the past week, three things have been haunting you: hurting Jia, being a shitty friend, and not feeling as heartbroken as you thought you would be when, in the span of twelve hours, Yoongi:

Told you he loved you (nice).

Slept with you (nice).

Said he was getting back with his ex-girlfriend (not so nice).

You’ve been in love with Yoongi for your entire adult life and so much of your childhood that you can’t even pinpoint when it all truly started.

When you think of Min Yoongi, you think of that warm, fuzzy feeling that swirls in your chest whenever someone you like walks into a room. The excitement of scanning the crowd at a party, hoping to catch a glimpse of their figure. That extra spark of joy when it was your joke that made them laugh.

Or, at least, that’s what you used to think.

Now when you think of Min Yoongi, you think of a friend. Someone you care about. Someone you appreciate. Someone you love… but aren’t in love with.

The events of last Friday night might very well be the reason for the sudden, drastic change in your heart. Maybe you’ve finally developed enough self-respect to stop chasing after someone who clearly doesn’t want you in that way.

You ignore the voice in the back of your mind that snarkily whispers, “Yeah, just… like… ten years late, honey.”

But, still. You aren’t 100% sure. And it’s driving you fucking mad.

Sure, you could just chalk it up to you being so hurt that the pain, you don’t know, numbed itself out?

But that wouldn’t be honest.

You know yourself. You’re an over-planner, an overthinker, and maybe (most definitely) an overreactor.

Over the years, you’d curated a long, arduous list of ways you thought you’d handle Yoongi’s rejection when the time inevitably came, hoping to better prepare yourself for it.

But not caring? Yeah, that wasn’t on the list. It wasn’t even in the fucking notebook.

You aren’t going to say that you’re unhappy about not being a weepy ball of tears and snot for an entire month, (which was on the list—quite high on it, in fact) but you just can’t help but be completely puzzled.

This isn’t you. You don’t… not care.

If there’s one thing you’ve always done, it’s care.

So, you can’t, for the life of you, figure out why you don’t.

"Caramel coffee frappé for Jeon Jung—huh?" you pause mid-callout, glancing up as the name on the cup registers in your brain. Your eyes land on your best friend, standing close on the other side of the pick-up counter.

"Hi, bug." Jungkook smiles softly, his hand already reaching for the drink that’s frozen in midair as you blink at him in surprise.

"Hi, Gukkie," you grin, the surprise melting into delight as you grab a paper straw from beside you and unwrap it for him. "What are you doing here? I don’t finish until four."

He shrugs, taking the straw from your outstretched hand and popping it into the cup. "Bored at home," he says, taking a long sip. "Thought I’d come early and—mmm, shit, bug, this is nice."

Your eyes crinkle in satisfaction as you watch him down almost a quarter of the frappé in one go. "I told you it’s the best drink we have," you nod knowingly, before a small frown starts to form. "But it’s not your usual, so I didn’t know it was yours… Should’ve told me you were here so I could’ve added my discount, Gukkie."

Jungkook just keeps drinking, hoping the brain freeze would distract him from the urge to reach across the counter and wipe the pretty little pout from your lips. "They gave it to me anyway," he mumbles around the straw. "Didn’t even ask."

And he wouldn’t have. Jungkook has money—and plenty of it. More than he’ll ever actually need. But it’s mostly blood money from his guilty father, which he has no problem in taking it without so much as a thank you. You know all this, yet you still badger him to use your 25% staff discount whenever he visits you at work. Cute.

You smile at that, glancing over at the register where Bella’s back from her break. She knows Jungkook’s with you, so it must’ve been her who added the discount. "Good. I’m glad," you hum, leaning against the counter, chin resting on your hand as you look at him. "What are you going to do? It’s only two-thirty."

Jungkook grabs a complimentary caramel drizzle bottle, aiming it over his cup. He probably doesn’t mean to be so rough—it’s just that he’s naturally strong—and you watch as nearly half the bottle spurts into his drink with one squeeze. “I’ll just hang out here until you’re done. Got any breaks left?”

You laugh, reaching over and grabbing the bottle from him. "You’re gonna get a stomachache, Gukkie." Shaking your head, you roll your eyes. "But yeah. One left. I’ll take it now?"

Jungkook scoops up some of the caramel with his straw, a slight smirk on his lips as he shoves it in his mouth. "Okay," he nods, gesturing toward the door with his head. "Come out for a smoke?"

The cool breeze is a gorgeous contrast to the warm, stuffy air behind the coffee bar as you burst through the door of the campus café. Jungkook holds it open for you, and as your shoe hits the pavement, you instinctively grab his hand, pulling him along with you.

It’s only another twenty seconds before you reach the secluded smoker’s spot near the outdoor stock corral. Leaning against the wall, you plop to the ground and giggle when Jungkook pretends to get yanked down with you, falling beside you with exaggerated force.

You shift into a criss-cross legged position, letting go of his hand so he can dig his lighter from his hoodie pocket. His shoulder becomes your makeshift pillow as you curl your right arm with his left, watching as he sparks the cigarette that dangles from his lips. Once the cherry glows red, he shoves the lighter away and rests his hand gently on your knee.

“How’s your shift going?” Jungkook asks, smoke curling from his mouth as he tilts his head away from you to blow it out of your direction.

“Good, it’s kinda quiet today,” you hum softly, eyes drifting shut. The mix of tobacco and Hermès cologne definitely shouldn’t make you feel so peaceful. But on him, it does.

“Good.” He nods, his gaze raking over you properly now that you’ve shrugged off your apron. Light-washed jeans, a little white singlet, black cotton cardi. He takes a deep drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke linger in his lungs before he comments, “Look so pretty today, bug.”

Your eyes flutter open as you blink up at him, beaming. “Really?”

He nods, holding the cigarette away with his right hand as he reaches over to tug gently at the cardigan with his left. “This new? S’nice.”

"It is," you nod happily, leaning back and twisting a little to show it off to him. He bites back a smile. “Just came yesterday. It's from my online Polly order. Remember?”

“Mhm,” he says, slipping an arm around you as you settle back into his side. A comfy silence stretches until you break it.

“Don’t wanna go to Yoongi and Jia’s tonight,” you murmur, your voice low, strained. The calm on your face shifts into something more pained, and Jungkook doesn't like that.

“Then we won’t,” he responds easily, tilting his chin up to exhale the smoke away from your face. “Movie night?”

You let out a sad sigh, head tilting up in time to catch the way the muscle in his jaw moves as he exhales. “Already canceled yesterday. If we do it again today, Jia will know something’s up.”

“So?” Jungkook turns to you, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he looks down at your glossy eyes. “I’ll call them. Tell them I’m sick and you need to take care of me or something,” he shrugs, flicking the ash off the cigarette.

“You think that’ll work?” You speak with a slight muffle as your cheek presses against his bicep.

“Don’t care if it doesn’t,” he replies honestly, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he watches you melt further into his hold.

You shake your head, amused, the motion shifting against his arm. “They’re our best friends, Gukkie—”

“You’re my best friend,” he cuts you off simply, finishing the cigarette and tossing the stub into the makeshift ashtray nearby.

Your eyebrows scrunch at his stubbornness. “And you’re mine.” You roll your eyes, trying to keep the smile pulling at your lips under control. “But you know what I mean…”

Jungkook sniffs, the chill finally settling in now that the cigarette's heat is gone. “Yeah, I know, bug. But you shouldn’t have to feel like this about going over there. Yoongi put you in an awkward fucking position, even if he doesn’t think so.”

You sigh again. “I feel like I’m overreacting about all of this. He says she doesn’t need to know, and maybe—”

“Such a pussy,” Jungkook mutters, annoyance evident as his thumb continues rubbing slow circles on your knee.

You snort at his bluntness, leaning into his arm. “I won’t say anything as long as he doesn’t want me to. But I can’t face her. Not outside of school. If I do, I might just word vomit everything the second I see her.”

Jungkook rests his head against yours, crooning. “Yeah, you do word vomit a lot.”

You close your eyes through a snicker, squeezing his arm teasingly. “Hm, thanks, Gukkie.”

A few quiet moments pass. Jungkook nudges his nose gently against the top of your head, his voice low when he speaks again. “You know you’re not ‘overreacting’ at all, right? Yoongi is a piece of shit for what he did. And even someone like Jia deserves the whole truth.”

You ignore his jab at Jia, having tried—and failed—many times to convince him that she’s actually a good person. “You keep acting like Yoongi did this all by himself, Gukkie. I’m just as guilty as he is.”

Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. “Not really.”

“Yes, really,” you insist, poking his side gently. “It was completely consensual—”

“I’m not just talking about the sex, bug,” Jungkook swallows hard, more than unenthusiastic about delving into the specifics of your night with Yoongi. One run-through was enough—and even then, he barely held back the contents of his stomach.

“It’s everything else. Before and after. Telling you he loved you like it was some obligation when you admitted your feelings? Dropping the news about getting back with Jia how he did? You’d been awake for five fucking minutes, bug. You were naked and vulnerable in his fucking bed.”

Jungkook pauses roughly to regain his composure, and you instinctively move closer, feeling his anger on your behalf. You’re about to tell him he’s right, that you understand, but he isn’t done.

“And then for him to not even give his girlfriend the bare fucking minimum of being able to make an informed decision about their relationship? Fucking coward. What if she doesn’t want to stay with him after finding out? He’ll have already taken months of her life from her. Yoongi is prolonging the pain for everyone involved. And I don’t know how long he intends to keep this shit going, but if Jia catches on, and she takes it out on you? Bug, I’ll fucking kill him—”

“Gukkie,” you gently interrupt, shifting your arms from around his bicep to wrap around his waist instead.

As you hug him close, your legs shift to tangle with his because you know he likes the contact. His rigid muscles gradually begin to ease, and you settle against him with a soft sigh. “I’m so sorry, Gukkie. I should’ve thought about what this might bring up for you.”

Although not an exact replica, the situation had similarities to what Jungkook witnessed in his childhood; his father being an unfaithful piece of shit to his mom.

It began with small actions like working late, claiming extra shifts on weekends... withholding the whole truth from his partner.

Jungkook’s mom, an amaing woman and a second to your own, stayed in the marriage for as long as she could—for Jungkook and his older brother, Jisung. But eventually, she realized leaving was the best thing she could do for them.

You were in your early teens when the Jeons temporarily moved in with your family until his parents settled their divorce and his mom found a new place for them to go.

Jungkook’s father, a powerful and successful proprietor, was his role model during his entire childhood, and when he lost that bond, it broke him.

Even though some of your best memories together came from that period—sleepovers, movie marathons, him teaching you how to sing—you knew the divorce had a greater impact on Jungkook than he liked to let on.

However, he still likes to joke darkly that if he could relive those days with you, he’d go through the divorce all over again without hesitation. That always results in a wack in the arm from you.

Jungkook shakes his head and his lips part, no doubt to tell you not to apologize, you butt in again. “You’re right, Gukkie. What Yoongi did, what he’s doing, it’s wrong.” His hand moves from your knees to curl around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Okay, this won’t just go away. Jia deserves to know.” You glance up at him to find his eyes already on you. “Tonight?”

Jungkook’s gaze softens. He nods, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head, careful not to disturb your tidy bun. As you trace slow circles on his waist with your fingertips, he pulls out his phone and shows you the time—2:58pm. You gasp, scrambling to your feet.

Jungkook laughs, standing up and letting you drag him back toward the café, ready to take the blame from your shift manager, Jimin, for you being back fifteen minutes late. Park Jimin loves him, after all.

“Bug! Kookie!” Jia’s excited voice rings out from the room she shares with Yoongi as you and Jungkook step into the oh-so-familiar apartment.

Yoongi closes the door quietly behind you both, the hug he usually greets you with noticeably absent. Instead, he reaches out to clasp Jungkook’s hand in a brief bro-shake, which Jungkook returns half-heartedly, before Yoongi heads straight for the kitchen.

Jungkook watches Yoongi’s retreat with a slight furrow in his brow, his jaw tightening as he registers Yoongi’s failure to acknowledge you at all. When he looks over to you, you just shrug, not as bothered by his childish antics as you thought you would be.

After your shift ended, Jungkook drove you back to your place to grab a change of clothes. Then, you headed to his apartment so you could use his shower—the one with the best fucking water pressure ever.

Your lease is up at the end of the year, and then you'll finally be moving into Jungkook's place.

Living on your own for senior year seemed like a good idea when you decided to move out of the dorms, but that novelty wore off real fucking fast. Being away from Jungkook was not ideal and you hated not being able to see him whenever you wanted. His dorm wasn’t too far, but it was still on the other side of campus, and overnight visits to dorms of the opposite gender were prohibited.

Jungkook didn’t care, of course—he snuck over anyway, stacking up a few too many strikes from student monitors and professors who caught him.

So, when you moved from the dorms into a your cute little flat, Jungkook did the same, finding one just a few minutes away. There were no free spaces at your building for him to take, so he told you to move into his instead—that plenty of apartments were available. But when you saw the rent price, you just laughed. You knew he had every intention of covering it anyway, but you couldn't do that to him, no matter how much you wanted to live together.

That’s why you’ve been working more lately. Shifts at the campus café during the week and extra hours at Seoul Cinema on weekends. With what you’ve saved, plus a little help from your mom, you’ll soon be moving in with your best friend and gaining 24/7 access to him and that gorgeous fucking shower.

Earlier, when you were about to step into the bathroom, you called Jia to confirm what time she wanted you guys over. That’s when she casually revealed that the plan for tonight had changed—that everyone was heading to Joonie’s, your friend group’s favorite club, instead.

Panic flared in your chest and you almost blurted everything to her right there on the phone. Sensing it, Jungkook took the phone from your hand, calmly telling Jia that you’d be there at nine before hanging up.

You poked at him for ending the call without letting her respond, but deep down, you were relieved. You knew you had to tell her everything in person. If not for the respect of your thirteen-year-long friendship, but because doing it over the phone just felt so cowardly.

You know telling her tonight, before you all head out to drink, is risky. She could blow up, scream, and tell you to fuck off—which you’re fully expecting—but at least it’ll be in the privacy of her own home.

So now, here you are, standing awkwardly in the apartment that’s haunted your dreams for the past eight straight nights. Gone are your comfy pants and Jungkook’s warm hoodie. Instead, you’re squeezed into a black mini-skirt and a tight little top, wishing you were anywhere else in the world.

Deflated, you let Jungkook take the bottle of tequila from your arms as you make your way toward the room where Jia's still getting ready. The door is slightly ajar, and you give it a gentle knock.

“Ji?” Your voice comes out quieter than you intended, so you clear your throat and take a cautious step inside when she tells you to come in. As soon as you catch sight of your beautiful best friend, a smile automatically paints your lips.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“Buggy!” Jia grins, snapping the cap onto her eyeliner before tossing it aside and striding over to you. When the long-legged girl extends her arms for a hug, you embrace her tightly.

“Hey, Ji. You look so good."

“You too, babe. You wore red like I asked! God, we look so hot matching.” Jia smirks as she pulls away, letting her eyes roam over your outfit before tilting her head in thought.

You swallow, waiting patiently for her assessment. Usually, she finds one or two minor things that could be improved for your clubbing outfits, and you pray she doesn’t find anything, because it’s a thirty-minute drive back to your place to make the adjustments.

Not that you think that tonight's plans will still go ahead after what you’re about to say.

To your surprise and relief, she nods in approval before turning back to her floor-length mirror. Jack Harlow plays lowly from her phone that rests on her dresser, and she hums along to it, fixing a few pieces of hair that have fallen out of place.

When you’re quiet for a long moment, something usually very out of the ordinary for you, Jia catches your eye in the mirror and her head tilts. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow. Your mouth opens. Then closes.

Jia’s brows knit together as she turns away from the mirror to face you directly. “What is it, bug? Is it Yoongi?”

Your heart plummets. “Wh-what?”

“He told me you stayed over last Friday? After Kookie took me to my mom’s?” Jia continues, her tone curious but confused. “Said you thought you could handle his whiskey, and he didn’t want to leave you on the couch, so you slept in our room. I almost didn’t believe it…”

“I—” you stammer.

“As if you’d ever willingly touch that disgusting whiskey he drinks. You can barely handle soju.” Jia chuckles.

“HAH! Yeah, you know me! Can’t handle my hard liquor… Would-would put me right on my ass!”

Jia’s amused squint deepens as she eyes you closely. “You’re acting weird.” She tilts her head with a teasing smile. “Did you have one of Kookie’s special cigarettes again? Because you know those are—”

“Jia.” Fuck. Word vomit. It’s happening. “I need to—”

“Change those shoes? I know, I was going to say something before, but you looked kinda sad… Hold on, I’ll—”

“No, Jia. I have to tell—”

The bedroom door swings open before you can finish. The words die in your throat as you whip your head toward the entrance. Tears well in your eyes as you turn to see who it is. Out of the two most likely options it could’ve been, unfortunately, it is not the one you hoped it was.

Yoongi stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable as his gaze flickers between you and Jia. The tension in the room rises dramatically, but Jia remains unfazed.

“Jagi,” Jia greets him with a bright, oblivious smile. “Just telling buggy how cute she looks in red. Doesn’t she look amazing?”

Yoongi nods at Jia, but his eyes are locked on you. There’s guilt swimming in his gaze, but it’s overpowered by something stronger. Desperation.

Earlier today, after talking to Jia, you called Yoongi to confess that you couldn’t keep it hidden anymore. That you were going to tell her tonight.

His reaction was beyond unhappy. After five minutes of him practically begging you to keep quiet, he abruptly ended the call when he realized you wouldn’t change your mind.

“Jagiya, can I borrow Y/N for a sec—”

“No.” The words leave your lips so firmly that you’re almost surprised.

Behind Yoongi, you catch sight of Jungkook’s approaching figure. His head tilts slightly—his nonverbal way of asking if you’re okay in situations where you guys can’t speak. Ignoring Yoongi’s dejected look, you give Jungkook a small nod before turning back to Jia.

“What’s going on?” Jia’s eyes dart between you and Yoongi. “Why are you both acting so weird?”

“I’m so sorry, Jia—” You begin, your voice shaking.

“Y/N,” Yoongi pleads, but you refuse to look at him.

“Yoongi, just give them some space, man—”

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do, Kook,” Yoongi spits back, taking a further step into the bedroom.

Your brows furrow as your head snaps toward Yoongi. “Don’t talk to him like that. I’m telling her—”

“Tell me what?” Jia huffs as she steps forward, and soon the couple are both staring at you with two very different strands of frustrated expressions.

Your heart pounds at both the lack of distance and the looks you’re receiving, but you push through. You can do this. “Ji, on Friday—”

“Jagiya, wait, don’t liste—”

Jungkook’s scoff cuts Yoongi off, and you can see both men getting more and more heated by the second. He doesn’t take his eyes off Yoongi when he speaks to you. “Bug, take Jia into the living room. I need to talk to Yoongi.”

Yoongi turns to glare at Jungkook. “Stay the fuck out of this, Jeongguk.”

“Or what?” Jungkook’s reply is immediate, his brows raising as if he genuinely wanted to know the answer.

“Y/N, just spit it out. What are you saying?” Jia demands, her voice rising with frustration.

“I—”

“Don’t, Y/N,” Yoongi warns, stepping forward, but Jungkook stops him.

“Stop fucking walking closer to her, Yoongi—”

“You have no fucking right, Y/N—”

“Y/N, just tell me—”

“No, Jagi, stop—”

“Yoongi, fuck off! Just let her tell me—”

“I slept with him.”

All the noise in the room dies out at your words. Jungkook is standing beside you now, his arm brushing lightly against yours, but you can barely feel it. All you can feel is Jia’s eyes on you, her expression completely unreadable.

Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “I slept with Yoongi when Jeongguk was taking you to your mom’s. Jia, you need to know how fucking sorry I am. I wasn’t thinking straight, and-and it just happened—”

“It just happened?” Jia’s voice cuts through your apology with a pitying laugh. Her eyes never leave yours, not even to glance at her boyfriend, who’s running his hand through his hair roughly, his eyes red-rimmed. For someone who said it was so unimportant and didn’t matter, he sure isn’t acting like it.

“No, I—no. It didn’t just happen. I did it. And I can’t explain how fucking sorry I am—”

“Yeah, you said that already,” Jia interrupts, her tone dismissive. Her gaze rakes over your body as though she’s bored.

You stand there, struggling to find the right words. “I know I broke your trust, Jia, and I’m so s—”

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, bug…” Jia rolls her eyes, brushing her hair back over her shoulder before turning to check her reflection in the mirror.

Your mouth snaps shut.

Where’s the screaming? Where’s the kicking you out of her apartment? Where’s the—

“Who initiated it?” Jia’s tone is uninterested as she runs a finger gently around the edge of her slightly smudged lip liner.

You glance at Yoongi, but his eyes are glued to the floor. “I don’t remember,” you admit quietly. The moment was a blur—his confession had thrown you off balance. It could’ve been him, but maybe it was you.

Jia gives you a skeptical look through the mirror, as if she doesn’t believe you, but then she turns to Yoongi. “Who initiated it, Jagi?”

As Yoongi hesitates, you feel Jungkook’s eyes on you again. You glance up at him, the boy who had been seething with anger just minutes ago, only to find him looking at you in concern. Blinking away the tears, you reach out to brush the back of his hand with your pinky finger.

“I did, Jagiya. I’m sorry. I was hurt that you left me, and I needed to forget,” Yoongi finally says.

His explanation seems to bring some relief to Jia’s face, and you brace yourself for the inevitable ache in your chest at his words. But it doesn’t come. If anything, Jungkook is more affected by what he had to say, judging by the way his jaw tightens and his hand clenches into a fist beneath your pinky.

“Okay,” Jia nods at Yoongi before reaching for her clutch on the dresser. As she casually tucks her phone and keys inside, you glance over at Jungkook, your confusion evident, but the look he returns is calm—like he expected this.

With a roll of her eyes, Jia glances back at the three of you. “Did you bring the tequila like I asked?”

When her eyes meet yours, you nod instinctively, trying your best to mask your unease. “Yes. It’s, um, in the kitchen. Jia, is everything—”

“We weren’t together, Y/N. It’s not like you’re still fucking… are you?”

“No.” You choke instantly, almost shuddering at the thought.

“Okay, then. Let’s start pres and then go.” With that, Jia walks out of the room, leaving you standing there, completely dumbfounded.

This isn’t what you were expecting.

You’ve never experienced Jia’s anger firsthand, but you’ve witnessed it many times before, and this is the last reaction you could’ve ever expected.

Maybe she’s in shock, and it’ll come ot later. Or maybe… maybe she really doesn’t think it’s a big deal? She’s so incredible like that, so understanding.

The room stays quiet as Jungkook remains rooted beside you. Yoongi lets out a short sniffle before trailing after Jia without glancing at either of you. The door slams shut behind him, leaving you and Jungkook alone in his bedroom.

As soon as Yoongi’s gone, Jungkook turns to face you, the warmth of his body washing a sense of comfort over you that you don’t deserve in the slightest.

“Are you alright, bug?” he asks carefully, his hand lifting to adjust the strap of your top that had shifted slightly across your shoulder.

“Of course I’m okay. I just… I don’t understand, she’s not even mad at me—”

“Good. She shouldn’t be—”

“What? Yes, she should, Jeongguk.” His brows furrow. “Please, stop acting like I did nothing wrong—”

“You think I didn’t notice how you took all the blame when you were telling her?”

“It doesn’t matter how it came off, Jeongguk.” His expression tenses further.  “It doesn’t matter how I sugar coat it. The fact is, we messed up. And she’s so fucking nice that she didn’t even—”

“Nice?” He almost scoffs, his lips twisting into a wry smile. “Bug, did you really not see that response for what it truly was? Come on…”

“What are you talking about?” You try to keep your voice down despite the door being closed and a random Drake song pounding through the walls. “You saw the same thing I did! She barely even said anything—”

“Exactly. She barely said anything. We’ve known her for how many years? And when has Seong Jia ever not said something? Think about it, bug. She’s going to hold onto this and use it against you—”

“Why do you always think the worst? Why do you think so poorly of her—”

“Because I see the way she fucking treats you, Y/N!” Jungkook takes a step back, his voice rising as frustration pulses through him. “Even if you don’t see it, I see it.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and you blink rapidly, trying to keep them at bay. In the fifteen years you’ve known Jungkook, you’ve only had two heated arguments—this being the third. And, though you push the thought aside, you can’t ignore that all three fights were about Jia.

“This—this blind loyalty you have for me is flattering,” you mutter bitterly through your tears, “but you’re wrong. She’s a good friend.”

“Blind loyalty?” He forces a laugh, incredulous. “The only thing blind is you for not being able to tell when someone’s treating you like shit!”

“Yeah?” you scoff.

“Yeah.” He nods mockingly, taking a step closer. “You think you haven’t earned my fucking loyalty?”

“Oh, I know I have.” You cross your arms defensively. “If I’ve earned anything, it’s your fucking loyalty! But you need to acknowledge that I can make mistakes too—”

“I do acknowledge when you make mistakes.”

“No, you don’t, Jeongguk!” Your hands fly out in a frustrated gesture as he closes the distance between you even more. “You didn’t when I overfed your goldfish and it died from bloating! You didn’t when I signed up for that People Magazine free trial using your card, and you got charged for an entire year! And now you’re doing it again—”

“That shit doesn’t matter, bug!”

“You’re saying this doesn’t matter?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“How could it possibly not matter—”

“Because I know what it feels like to be so in love with somebody that it consumes you.”

Your mouth snaps shut. As Jungkook continues, his gaze remains fixed on you, but his eyes are distant. “That any sign of that feeling truly being reciprocated would make you do unspeakable fucking things.”

The frustration coursing through your veins fizzles out, replaced by a sudden, painful wave of pure jeal—confusion.

“What?” It comes out as a whisper.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, his eyes just continuing to trace the lines of your face.

“You love somebody?” The bitterness in your tone is obvious, but you don’t can't stop. “We tell each other everything… and you didn’t care to tell me that you’re in love with someone?”

His silence is so unsettling that it prompts a painful laugh from you. “Oh, okay.” You give a sharp nod, “if that’s how you want to be. Fine. I’ll just start keeping fucking secrets from you too, then.”

The lack of response from him only fuels the fire inside you, and before you can stop yourself, the words keep pouring out. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Why wouldn’t you tell me? Is it someone from uni? What the fuck, Jeongguk—”

“It’s nobody you know.”

“I—” You stare at him, your eyes wide, disbelief flooding your system as your arms drop to your sides. “I know everyone you know!”

This time, you don’t even try to stop the tears that are building behind your lashes from spilling over. But the fiery, sour feeling burning a hole in your gut is too strong, too raw, and you’re not ready to acknowledge what it might mean.

“If you don’t want to tell me, fine. But don’t lie to me.” Your voice trembles at the end as you lift a shaky hand to wipe under your nose, choking back a sob as tears slip into your breath.

Jungkook’s expression softens as he takes a step forward, cautiously reaching out his hand to touch your arm.

He tries not to think that your reaction is anything but a best friend being upset that their best friend didn’t tell them about an important part of their life.

He tries not to think that your reaction is because you can’t stand to think of him being in love with someone else.

He tries not to think about how much every cell in his body has ignited at the thought of you being possessive of him. Jealous of the person he’s in love with.

But it’s hard. So fucking hard. Because all he can see is the pain in your eyes, the hurt etched across your face.

Such a sight would usually bring him to his knees and have him doing anything to make the pain go away. But now, as fucked up as it is, all he feels is hope. Hope that maybe the reason you’re so upset is because you feel the same way he does.

“I’ve never lied to you, bug.” His voice is soft as he rubs up and down your bare arms gently.

“Hm,” you croak, wiping more tears away. “Until now.”

“Until now,” Jungkook echoes quietly, lifting his hand to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that won't fucking stop.

You don’t know why you’re crying harder than you have in God knows how long. Why you don’t push Jungkook’s hand away even though you’re mad at him. Why you’re even mad in the first place.

Well, like you said earlier: you are an overreactor.

But it’s not like you and Jungkook haven’t had lovers in the past.

You had your first boyfriend last year, a sweet senior named Kim Taehyung. He was a great guy—kind, easygoing, gorgeous. He got along with most of your friends, and you were especially glad Jungkook liked him as his approval was the toughest to earn.

But something about Jungkook must have rubbed Taehyung the wrong way.

Before you and Tae officially started dating, you’d first met at a frat party that you attended with Jungkook as Yoongi and Jia had stayed in that night. The two of them got on super well, and you guys had even teamed up for beer pong together.

But after a few dates, and you eventually saying yes when he asked to go steady, things began to change.

Taehyung started asking you to sleep over at his frat more often, something you didn't really like to do (and something Jungkook certainly didn't like you doing either).

Soon, he was asking for details on which friends you were with whenever you hung out with someone. He even began to ask to switch to FaceTime calls when you’d mention specific names and leave out others.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. You’re a naturally clingy person too, so maybe it was just his way of showing he cared. But when he requested that you spend less time with just one friend in particular, that was where you drew the line.

It confused you, especially since you’d already cut back from spending all of your free time with Jungkook to about 40%, but he still wanted more. You’d told Taehyung from the start that Jungkook was your best friend and a huge part of your life, that you guys have always been close. He had no problem with that. Well, in the beginning, at least.

Naturally, you told Jungkook about Taehyung’s request, and you’d never seen him so angry. You reassured him not to worry, that it all wasn't sitting well with you, that you'd be ending things soon.

Jungkook relaxed at that.

He also dropped to his knees that night and sent up a prayer to the Goddess that it was finally fucking over. But you didn’t need to know that part.

As for Jungkook, he’s never been in relationship. He has been with two girls, though. Park Iseul and Cho Jiwon.

Iseul was great. You and her shared an Economics lecture, and you even used to sit next to her during classes.

She’d usually ask about Jungkook, and you’d give her updates, letting her know he was doing well. But whenever you’d try to pass on her messages to Jungkook, he would just refuse to hear them, asking you to stop sitting near her.

It seemed like Iseul picked up on the hint since she gradually found other seats during class, and so did you. You didn’t mind; she was still super nice, but you did scold Jungkook for his behavior. He apologized, but only to you, not to her.

Your encounter with Cho Jiwon, however, was… different.

‹ ‹ ‹

“Uhhh…”

The voice caught you off guard, making you turn from shutting the door behind you. Sitting at Jungkook’s kitchen island with a bowl of muesli, was a female around your age. You glanced at your surroundings, then the key in your hand to make sure this was indeed your best friend's apartment. It was.

“Oh, hello.” You greeted the pretty girl with a nod, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“Hello?” she responded, confused. Her eyes roamed over your Seoul Cinema uniform before narrowing slightly. “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N,” you responded quietly. Unsure of what to say or do, you hesitated. “And… um, you?”

“Jiwon,” she replied, squinting a little. “Are you his girlfriend or something? Because he said he was single, but I should’ve known; he literally stopped in the middle of sex last night to answer a text…” Her voice trailed off as she tilted her head, “Wait, what was your name again?”

You blinked, a frown edging onto your face for her. You opened your mouth to repeat yourself when Jungkook stumbled out of his bedroom, rubbing a sleepy hand over his face.

“Bug?" He croaked, making his way toward you. "You okay? I was gonna come get you in a bit.” His bare chest was still warm as he wrapped his arms around you.

You pulled back from the hug with a quick apology. “Sorry, I got ready early and just walked over,” you said, gesturing toward Jiwon, still munching on her cereal. “Didn’t know you had someone over, though. I should’ve texted. I can ask Taehyung to drop me off at work and we can reschedule?”

Jungkook looked down at you, confused, then followed your gaze to Jiwon, who was still seated at his kitchen counter. He blinked in surprise, as though he had only just registered her presence. “Uh…are you okay?”

Your gaze snapped to his in surprise, and Jiwon’s expression turned sour. “What?”

“I thought you were leaving…” Jungkook’s brows knitted in confusion, eyeing her attire, which consisted only of his t-shirt. He hated that you were seeing this. “Did you need money for an Uber?”

“Jeongguk,” you frowned, shifting your bag on your shoulder as you glared at him. But Jiwon just rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“You could do so much better, girl,” she sneered at you, tugging off Jungkook’s t-shirt and tossing it at him as she got up. He caught it with little reaction, watching indifferently as she headed toward his room in her bra and underwear.

You were about to nudge him to apologize when she reemerged in her dress a moment later, throwing a glare over her shoulder. “Way better than a lying cheater, anyway.”

You opened your mouth to clarify. “No, Jiwon, we’re not—”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Jihyo,” Jungkook cut in boredly. “So, did you need money for that Uber?”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at him in utter disbelief while Jiwon just shook her head with a scoff. She angrily brushed past him and left, slamming the door behind her.

“Jeongguk, that was so rude.”

Jungkook just shrugged, tipping her cereal down the disposal and rinsing the bowl. “Bug, I already told her I had something to do in the morning and I’d need her to leave by 8 if she wanted to stay over.”

“I wish you would've told me. I wouldn’t have just barged in without calling first. That was so awkward.”

“You never need to call when you’re coming over,” he gave you a look. “And it wasn’t awkward.” He shrugged again, opening his dishwasher and putting the singular bowl and spoon in before starting a cycle.

“It was a little awkward,” you murmured, sighing. “You could have at least offered her a ride home.”

“Okay, okay, bug. I’ll repent for my sins later,” he nodded, walking over to slip your bag off your shoulder and set it on the couch. “You okay, though? Why’d you come over so early? I thought we were seeing the 10 o'clock movie since your shift starts at 1?”

You just shrugged, eyes shifting to the floor. Jungkook’s big hands cupped your face, gently tilting it up so you were looking at him. "Hm?" he prompted, squishing your cheeks slightly, coaxing your lips into a cute little pout.

When he let go enough for you to speak, you mumbled, “Dunno…haven’t seen you in a few days. Missed you.”

His brows knitted together, and his arms slid down to your waist, pulling you closer. “I missed you more, bug. What’s up, though? Did something happen?”

You exhaled, leaning into his chest as your arms wrapped around him. “No, just…feels weird not seeing you every day. I don't like it.”

His heart thumped at your words, and his fingers traced small circles along your back. “I get it. It's weird for me too. But your boyfriend probably doesn't like it very much, hm?”

You pulled back slightly to frown, “Gukkie—”

“Kidding,” he murmured with a soft chuckle, resting his head in the nape of your neck. He was most certainly not kidding. “I’m gonna shower, and then we can have some breakfast before we go, okay?”

You nodded, scratching his back a little as he pulled away, heading toward the bathroom while you settled on the couch to wait.

Breakfast was yummy. The movie was great. You and Taehyung broke up a week later.

› › ›

“Can you please tell me who it is?” you ask, looking up at him with a sniffle, feeling utterly defeated. You need to know.

Jungkook has never denied you when you ask him for something. Ever.

You would usually never take advantage of such a gift, but right now, you’re desperate. You know that this feeling won’t go away until he tells you. You need to know.

“I can.” His hand still rests on your cheek, his thumb pausing its soft caress as your tears finally stop. But even then, he doesn’t meet your gaze, his eyes fixed somewhere on the lower part of your face.

“Will you?” you ask, trying to catch his eye, but his gaze remains fixed on the bottom half of your face.

“I will,” he confirms tensely, reluctantly lifting his eyes to meet yours. His irises are a little darker than usual. “But I won’t tell you their name... I want you to guess for me, bug.”

Your brows furrow harshly, and you take a step back, not in the mood for games. But Jungkook immediately follows suit, as if he expected your movements. He easily closes the distance between you without losing the contact between your face and his hand.

“You’re really playing with me right now? Seriously, Jeong—”

“She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

Well, okay then.

You stop yourself from flinching, eyes snapping up to his to find them already locked on yours.

“She’s so fucking funny. Makes me laugh harder than anyone else in the world. And she doesn't even try.”

Yep. You’ve heard enough.

You swallow hard and raise your hand in an attempt to stop him, your mind racing for words. The fingers of his free hand wrap easily around your risen palm, bringing it to rest flat against his chest.

“All she has to do is walk in the room, and my heart beats so fucking hard that I’m scared she’s gonna hear it one day.”

You feel it—the rapid thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. Your breath catches in your throat, and when your eyes meet his, you try to look away from the intensity, but you can’t.

No matter how foggy your vision becomes with tears, no matter how badly your hand trembles against his chest, no matter how hard it is to breathe with him looking at you like that—you can’t look away.

“I check my phone every five fucking minutes when we’re apart, just to see if she’s thinking about me like I’m thinking about her.”

Jungkook’s figure becomes a watery, blurry blob because you refuse to blink, as if the millisecond that your eyes are closed will somehow cause you to miss something crucial.

“She’s the first person I think of when I open my eyes in the morning,” he says quietly, “and the last when I fall asleep. I’m reminded of her by every single fucking thing. Even a stupid little toy figurine that looks nothing like her.”

At that, something inside you snaps, and without a second thought, you shove his hands away from you. Before he can react, your hands slide up to the back of his neck, pulling him down and pressing his mouth firmly against yours. Your eyes fall shut at the warmth of his lips, and then it happens.

Bursts of color explode behind your closed eyelids, vibrant and electric, filling every corner of your mind.

A surge of relief sweeps through your veins, washing away every single thing that came before this moment in a wave of perfect clarity.

Your fingers tighten their grip on the back of his neck, feeling his surprise blend into pure pleasure. His hands slip to your sides as he pulls you closer, every muscle in his body loosening as he melts into the kiss. It’s warm, soft, sweet. Your mouths are closed, eyes shut, simply savoring the feeling of being with the person you care about most in the entire world.

You’re happy. You’re relieved. And for the first time in the last eight days, you’re not confused in the slightest.

"Any guesses?" Jungkook murmurs against your lips as you pull back slightly for air.

You laugh through the tears that had spilled out before you kissed, as his hands lift from your hips to brush them away. "Hmm," you hum, leaning into his hand on your face, "Jia?"

“Ooh, close…” He squints teasingly with a smirk, his thumb swiping away a tear that had fallen to your pouty lip. “Just think, like, five times less bitchy and ten times hotter.”

A watery laugh escapes you, and you fall forward, resting your forehead against his chest. You sniffle and shake your head. “I can’t believe you just confessed your love for me in Yoongi and Jia’s bedroom.” Jungkook’s soft chuckle fills the room, making your heart flutter. “That’s such a you thing to do,” you add as you pull back to look up at him.

“You’re not wrong,” he replies, his smile softening as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

His hand finds yours, and he glances toward the door, a faint awareness in his eyes. He’s not sure how many songs have played while you’ve been holed up together, but it’s been long enough to raise suspicion. “C’mon, bug,” he murmurs, gently tugging you toward the door.

But your brows knit together as he tries to lead you out. “What?”

Jungkook turns back, his expression relaxed and a little curious. “Hm?”

“I—” You pause, caught off guard by how casually he seems ready to move on. “You don’t want to talk about… things?”

His eyes glimmer with amusement as he steps closer. “Things?”

“You just told me you’re in love with me, and kissed me, and—"

“You kissed me,” he teases softly, his lips quirking up when you glare at him with the cutest, slightly swollen pout.

“You don’t want me to… say anything? To say it back?” you ask quietly, letting him take your other hand into his hold so he has both of them, tugging you a little closer.

Jungkook’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and your eyes track the movement, unable to forget the way they felt against yours. He’s so close now that the heat of his body warms the space between you, the scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smell of the cigarette he had on the drive over swirling around you.

“I didn’t tell you for something in return, bug,” he says gently, his thumbs tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “I told you because you wanted to know,” he adds with a slight shrug, “and because I wanted you to know.”

The simplicity of his words takes you by surprise. There’s no pressure in his gaze, no expectation. Your heart aches in a way you’ve never felt before.

“And if I want to say it back?” you whisper, eyes looking between his.

Jungkook does the same, looking for any trace of uncertainty in yours before asking quietly, "Do you mean it?"

“More than I think I even understand,” the words tumble out before you can second-guess them.

"Then say it."

“I’m so in love with you, Gukkie,” you whisper instantly, as if it were a command, “I thought I knew what love was, but… you’re love. Everything about you, everything you do is love.” Jungkook swallows hard, his thumbs still tracing softly over your knuckles. “We’re still so young, and there’s so much more to do… But I want to do it all with you.”

“Fucking hell, bug,” he mutters under his breath before his lips crash back into yours.

This kiss is deep, urgent, like he’s trying to tell you something through it.

And, god, Jungkook had always been a good storyteller.

Your hands slip free from his, finding the sides of his neck, grasping for balance as his hands slide to the small of your back, steadying you when you almost stumble.

Your fingers curl into the warm, strong muscles of his shoulders, and you return his kiss with the same intensity, the taste of him filling all of your senses. His lips feel warmer, smokier, like everything about him is more intense now. And in that moment, everything else just fades away.

When you part your lips, an ache for more already tugging at you, his tongue slips in like it’s been waiting the whole time. A soft, satisfied hum escapes you, and he mirrors it, his sound a little throatier as his tongue intertwines with yours.

Jungkook’s hands slide over you—your sides, your hips, your back—as if he’s committing the feel of you to memory, like he’s afraid this is the only time he’ll ever have the chance. The soft, wet sounds of your tongues moving together fill your ears, and you know that if you have any say in it, this will be far from the last time.

A low groan bubbles in Jungkook’s throat when you press yourself closer to him and his fingers instinctively tighten around your sides.

Then he hears it.

Jungkook pulls back quickly but carefully, his gaze lingering on yours as his hands smooth over your hair, fixing where his fingers had tousled it. His thumb brushes over your shoulder, adjusting the strap of your top that had slipped down again, while his other hand runs along the edge of your lips to fix your smudged lip gloss He licks his own lips to remove any residue and you pout, about to ask if he’s okay when the door swings open.

“Hellooo? What's taking so long? The Uber’s here and the guys are already at Joonie's.” Jia bellows, raising her brows as she glances between the two of you. “Come on, you can pregame in the car.”

Jungkook looks at you, waiting. You nod at her, your fingers brushing against his as you step back, clearing your throat and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Okay, Ji, sorry. We’re coming.”

She just nods, leaving the door open as she turns back to Yoongi, who’s waiting with her jacket. He hands it over wordlessly before leading her outside.

Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you, quiet and searching. “You sure you still want to go?”

You take a breath, nodding. “Yeah, if Jia still wants me to come, it’s the least I can do. Do you still want to go?”

His lips press together for a second, but he nods, his hand sliding down to interlock with yours as you both walk out of the bedroom. He grabs his car keys from the counter on the way, but as you approach the door, a frown creases your forehead.

“You’re not driving us, right, Gukkie?” you ask, eyeing the keys in his hand.

He glances down at you, a faintly amused smile touching his lips. “Yeah, I am, bug. Why? Did you want to take the Uber with them?”

You shake your head, but the frown doesn’t leave. “No, but... you’re not gonna drink tonight?”

Jungkook shrugs lightly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before he lets it go so you can grab your mini purse from the counter and slip it over your shoulder. He reclaims your hand when you’re done, guiding you out of the apartment. “Not tonight, bug.”

The sadness in your eyes makes him pause, and you glance up at him. “Why? Is everything okay? I don’t like drinking when you don't drink.” Your voice softens, lips forming a small pout as he presses the down arrow for the elevator.

He smiles at the sight, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “I just wanted to drive you home, that’s all, bug.” His smile turns slightly amused. “But I’ll drink if you want to. You know I’m always down to drink with you.”

Your face brightens, leaning into his side to give him a soft thank you. As the elevator dings open, your phone vibrates in your clutch. You pull it out and giggle at the screen, tilting it toward Jungkook. He rolls his eyes, his lips twitching as he ushers you inside the elevator when it reaches your floor.

[9:57pm] From: Ji HELLOOO???? oh my god get down here. this fucking freak is trying to charge us twice for making him wait like two minutes

The crisp night air envelopes you as soon as you and Jungkook step outside the apartment complex, refreshing your skin and helping to calm your racing mind.

When you had both arrived at Yoongi and Jia's earlier in the night, you received a very quizzical look from your best friend as you climbed out of his Jeep.

‹ ‹ ‹

You extended your hand, waiting for him to come around to your side of the car before intertwining your fingers. Instead of locking the car, he paused, glancing back through the windows as if searching for something.

“Gukkie? You okay?” you asked, tilting your head at his hesitation. “I have your phone in my purse, remember?”

“Bug, where’s your jacket?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he looked over your outfit. He gave the Jeep’s seats another quick scan, hoping you’d just forgotten to grab it.

You shook your head, giving his hand a little tug to urge him forward. “I didn’t bring one. Couldn't find one that worked with my outfit. It’s okay, Gukkie, I'm not cold.”

But he didn’t budge. “Bug…” he said with a sigh, eyes scanning the backseat to see if he had left one of his jackets in there that you could wear. Nothing.

“Gukkie,” you laughed at the way his frown deepened, tugging his hand again. “You don’t have a jacket either, hm. Besides, there’s a small chance we’re even going out tonight anyway...”

Your voice softened, and Jungkook paused, sighing as the urge to drive home and grab you a jacket waned a bit. He pressed the lock button on his key fob with reluctance and let you pull him along up the path to the building.

His free hand slid up your arm as you walked, checking that your skin was still warm. It was, luckily for you, or he would've been plopping you back in the passenger seat to go back and get you a coat no matter how much you complained.

Jungkook knew Jia’s firm stance against jackets and outerwear—always “ruining the aesthetic" or something of the sort. He didn’t really pay much attention to what she said unless it involved you, if he was being honest.

And the thought of you borrowing one of Yoongi’s didn’t even get a chance to settle in his mind before he forced it far, far away.

› › ›

The scene with Jungkook in Jia’s room replays over and over in your head, but there’s a new lightness to it now—a weight lifted, even though you know the lines between you have definitely blurred. There’s more to think about, maybe more to figure out, but as you glance up at Jungkook’s peaceful expression, you find that you don’t mind it right now.

Reaching the end of the path, Yoongi hops out of the car and pulls the seat forward to let you into the back. “Hi, sorry for the wait,” you apologize softly to the driver, offering a polite smile as Jungkook takes your purse. His hand settles warmly on your back, guiding you in as you climb into the backseat.

The driver just mutters something under his breath and waits as Jungkook slides in next to you. Yoongi settles back beside Jia, who’s typing something on her phone, closing the door as the driver pulls out onto the road.

In the quiet hum of the car, you lean back, stealing a quick glance at Jungkook. He catches it, his lips quirking up as he shifts just a little closer, one hand slipping over yours where it rests on your lap. You turn your hand over and intertwine it with his, using your free hand to play with his fingers, tracing over the lines of his pretty tattoos. You rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes fluttering closed.

You can’t wait to drink.

It’s about twenty-five minutes later when you arrive at Joonie’s nightclub.

Jia had managed to convince the Uber driver to let you guys drink a little with the promise of a 50% tip, and as soon as he agreed, she swiftly pulled the bottle of tequila up from beneath her seat. She took a sip and handed it to Yoongi, who did the same before passing it to the back. Jungkook let you take a mouthful before he did, and you each took one more, his shots a little bigger than yours.

As you step inside, the music is loud, vibrating the ground as colored lights flicker across the floor. You spot the rest of your friends by a table in the corner, already clinking shot glasses together and throwing them back. When they see the four of you, their faces light up, and soon they’re stumbling over for hugs and half-drunk hellos.

Jimin is the first to reach you, a bright grin spreading across his face as he wraps you in a tight hug, swaying you from side to side. “Hi, angel! Gah, y'always look so pretty without an apron on! Good to see you—ah, hey, Kook! Get over here, you big thing,” he beams, pulling away from you to bring Jungkook down into an equally enthusiastic hug.

“Hey, Jimin-ah,” Jungkook responds, returning the hug and then straightening to stand by your side again.

Jimin stands there, his eyes raking over both of you for a moment before he lets out a sigh and gives something similar to a nod of approval.

You shake your head, laughing as you adjust your purse. “How much have you had to drink already, Jiminie?”

“Not nearly enough,” he quips instantly, glancing back at the group where the others are ushering Jia and Yoongi over to their table. “And judging by the fact you’re not red as a tomato yet… neither have you. Come on,” he grins, grabbing both your arms and pulling you and Jungkook toward the rest of the group.

When you guys reach the circle, you exchange hugs and little hiii, I missed you's until you reach the last person at the table.

"Hey, Y/N," Taehyung greets, pulling you into a warm hug.

Blinking in surprise as you pull back, you smile. "Hey, Tae? I didn’t know you were coming tonight. How are you?”

Taehyung nods, his hand resting casually on his beer. “Yeah, been okay. You?”

“Good, thanks Tae,” you reply with a soft smile, stepping back beside Jungkook.

“Oh, hey, Jungkook-ah, how are you, man?” Taehyung continues, extending a hand.

Jungkook takes it, and they do a little bro shake before he settles next to you again. “Really good, man, thanks,” he nods, glancing over the table before turning to you. “I’m gonna go get our drinks. Did y'want a long Island?”

Your eyes light up, and you nod, starting to walk with him to the bar when Valerie calls out, “Y/N! Babe, come take a photo! The lighting is soo cute over here.”

You turn back around, “One sec, Val, I’m just going to grab—”

“It’s okay, bug. I won’t be long,” Jungkook says quietly, running his hand down your arm as you glance over at him.

“Oh, okay.” You nod, looking up at him.

He raises his brows with an amused look when you don't move for a while. “Go on,” he nudges his head toward your friends, watching as you nod again with a cute smile and head over to Jia, Valerie, and Jimin. His gaze lingers as Yoongi takes the phone from Jia, and you all get ready to pose for the photos.

Sliding in next to Jia feels like second nature as your arm wraps around her waist, but as realization dawns, you quickly move to pull back, unsure if that's okay anymore.

Jia just rolls her eyes, grabbing your arm and placing it firmly back around her waist before leaning into you. The two of you settle in for the shot, and you smile, resting your head on her shoulder as the flash goes off, Yoongi snapping a bunch of photos of the four of you.

Once Jia finally deems the hundred pictures her boyfriend has taken as enough, your little group breaks away, with Jimin and Valerie immediately rushing over to review the results.

You start to follow them but pause when you catch sight of Taehyung at the end of the table, sitting alone and staring at his beer. You frown, looking around for Hoseok and Jin, but they seem to have wandered off, leaving him by himself.

You slide into the seat beside him. “Hey,” you greet, and Taehyung looks up, returning a small smile. "You okay?"

“Hey,” he chuckles lightly. “Yeah, why, do I look all depressed and lonely right now?”

With a grin, you pick up the tiny umbrella from an empty glass nearby, twirling it in your fingers. “No. Just a little alone,” you hum. “Where did Jin and Hobi go?”

“Out for a smoke,” Taehyung answers, his eyes lingering on you for a second before glancing back at his drink. Just as you’re about to ask if he wants another beer since his looks low, Jungkook arrives back at the table.

He sets your drink in front of you, still holding his own glass, and pulls up a chair beside you. “Thanks, Gukkie,” you smile, pulling the cup toward you to take a sip.

Jungkook gives you a little nod, resting a hand on your leg. His gaze shifts, noticing how Taehyung’s eyes follow the movement of your mouth as you wrap your lips around the straw. Jungkook’s tongue flicks over his lips before he takes a silent mouthful of his drink, watching as the two of you chat.

It's not long before Jimin brings over a large tray to the table, all your friends cheering in excitement as he sets it down with a grin.

"Shots!"

“Shit, bug, wait, watch your step, I just—”

Jungkook’s warning doesn’t reach your inebriated brain in time, and you stumble over the step he nearly tripped on himself, letting out a little curse. Before you can fall forward, his arms are already around you, pulling you back upright.

“Gukkie,” you whine, “why did you push me?” you grumble, your cheeks rosy from the endless shots Jimin kept feeding you and the lingering heat of the dance floor you two had been on all night.

Not that you’ll remember most of this tomorrow, considering you went over your limit about two Long Island iced teas ago, but tonight was one of the best nights you’ve had in a very long time.

Jia mostly clung to Valerie for the night, but that didn’t matter—you and Jungkook had more than enough fun on your own. Jimin even took Taehyung under his wing, and the four of you ended up spinning around on the dance floor after you convinced Jungkook to join in too. He’s so good at it, you’ve never understood why he doesn’t dance more often, but he indulged you tonight. And it was so fucking amazing.

“I didn’t push you, bug,” he grumbles back, holding you steady as he blinks, trying to get his own hazy vision under control.

If you went past your limit, Jungkook went double down. He can handle his alcohol—much better than you, at least—but you guys were having so much fun, and he loves drinking with you, so he went all out. When you took a shot, he took two. When you stood in front of him, lifting a cup to his lips with a sweet, urging little smile, who the fuck was he to say no?

“Gukkie, where’s your car?” you ask, squinting up the street, arm looping through his as you both stagger down the sidewalk. The chilly night air nips at your bare legs, but the warmth of the alcohol keeps it at bay as you rest your head lazily on his bicep.

“Uhh,” Jungkook mutters, scanning the line of parked cars as he tries to spot his Jeep. “I dunno, baby. Let’s just walk home.”

You nod in agreement, too tipsy to consider that the walk back to either of your apartments would take at least an hour—probably more, but you don’t care. Right now, it feels like you could walk for miles, just like this.

“Okay, but—” you trail off, eyes drifting as he stops running his hand over the one of yours clinging to his bicep. He turns to you with a little frown. “But what? D'you want to take your heels off?”

You blink up at him, the blur of alcohol softening everything but his face, his features as clear and pretty as ever. “You called me baby,” you say, a wide, drunk grin lighting up your face as you gaze up at him, utterly enchanted.

Jungkook’s brows knit together in confusion. He glances forward to ensure you both don’t veer into anything, then looks back down at you. “What, bug?”

“You called me baby,” you repeat, leaning your head against his arm with a happy squeeze. “Gosh, Gukkie, I hope I remember this when I wake up.”

Jungkook blinks a little at that, turning his head to face the path in front of him as you both keep walking. Did he call you baby? It must’ve just slipped out. He’s never called anyone that—not even while drunk, as far as he knows. The thought lingers for a moment, but when Jungkook feels you shiver slightly and yawn against his arm, that’s all it takes for him to have his first sober thought since his umpteenth vodka shot.

“Bug,” he says, pulling you to a gentle stop, his gaze drifting over your goosebump-covered legs and sleepy eyes. You blink up at him, a soft, confused smile lifting your lips as you glance around, wondering why you’ve stopped. “I need to get us an Uber,” Jungkook murmurs, rubbing his hands over your cold arms to warm you. “Come sit with me. Gonna order it.”

He looks around for a seat, but there isn’t one in sight, so he guides you to the curb and sits down, holding his arms open as you step in front of him and plop between his legs. Making sure you're settled, he pulls out his phone, blinking hard to try and get the numbers on the screen to stay still enough to punch in his passcode.

You lean back into his hold, his free arm wrapping around your stomach as your eyes flutter shut, your fingers tracing softly over the inked patterns on his arm. “So warm,” you mumble, lost in the feel of his skin against yours.

Jungkook tilts his head a little as you lean further into him, the tip of your nose brushing against his neck. He swallows, his pulse quickening as he tries to focus on ordering the Uber to your place.

“How are you so warm everywhere?” you sigh dreamily, letting your nose drift up the length of his neck, fingers still tracing along his arm. Jungkook’s breath catches, but he manages to confirm the ride and lock his phone, his other arm wrapping around you, quietly pulling you snug against his chest.

"Can I kiss your neck, Gukkie?"

Jungkook’s eyes shut at your words, every fiber in him reacting to you as he swallows hard. “Just a little, bug. Our uber isn’t far.”

The slight tilt of his head is all the encouragement you need, and you press a gentle, lingering kiss to his nape, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows again. Drawn in by the pretty sight, your mouth latches onto his neck, tasting the warmth of his skin.

“Bug,” he croaks, his voice shaky as your lips press more purposefully, your soft touch just a bit more intentional. “Bug, c’mon, baby, not too much. You’re drunk, I—” His breathing deepens as your tongue traces a warm, wet line over his skin, his hands tightening on your sides as he exhales shakily.

Your lips find a soft spot at the base of his neck, and he lets out another unsteady breath, his body responding without his consent. Humming happily, you let yourself sink into the feeling a little longer before pulling back and admiring your handiwork. It’s not enough to leave a mark, just a faint warmth that’ll fade, but it’s still so pretty. You press one last gentle kiss to the spot before turning back around, leaning contentedly back against his chest.

“Thanks, Gukkie. I like the way your skin tastes,” you smile with your eyes closed, settling your hands over his arms around you, the honesty in your words amplified by the haze of the alcohol.

“God, bug,” Jungkook mumbles once he catches his breath, his fingers running lightly up and down your waist as he adjusts the hem of your top, covering you when it rides up a little. “So cute.”

He watches as a soft, pretty smile curves your lips, eyes still closed as you practically purr into him at his comment.

So. Fucking. Cute.

Jungkook rests his head in the crook of your neck, which is bared just for him. Your head lolls back as you sleepily begin to curl into his embrace. “So pretty,” he breathes into your skin, pressing a light little kiss as he inhales as much of your scent as possible.

He’s kissed you plenty of times—on your forehead, your cheeks, even twice on your fucking lips earlier tonight. But he’s never kissed your neck before.

And it’s addicting.

The aroma of your vanilla-creme body wash mixed with the Miss Dior perfume he buys you for your birthdays—fuck. He could lick it off every inch of your body if you’d let him.

But not tonight.

He knows you get extra touchy with him when you’re drunk, and, yeah, he does with you too. That’s just how you two have always been. But it’s usually just longer cuddles, sitting closer than normal, not leaving each other's side for more than a few minutes.

You’ve never done that to him before.

Maybe it’s because, however intoxicated you may be, your brain recognizes the shift between the two of you from earlier at Yoongi and Jia’s.

God, he fucking hopes so.

Jungkook prays that you’ll remember kissing him tomorrow, even if you’re dazed from the alcohol. Because he is too. But, somehow, he'll make sure he remembers every single second.

i hit the fucking block limit >:( sooo nasty of tumblr 😔 the rest of the fic is available in this reblog 🩷

[krosiefics]

when did you get so buff? • lee minho

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: when your best friend, Minho, arrives at your apartment drenched from the rain. What would happen if you acted on the sudden arousal of seeing the outline of his built body?

WC: 1.3k

Tags: smut, pwp, afab!reader, bsf!minho, softdom!minho, ass spanking, pet names (baby, kitten), cursing, grinding, lwk dry humping, piv, unprotected sex (plz don’t), creampie, unprepped sex, mutual pinning(?), probably forgetting something :P

a/n: this was written in like 10 mins so it’s kinda rushed lol also not proofread…this man had me in a chokehold the entire mv making video

————————————————————————

“Woah- when the fuck did you get so buff Min?” You let out a laugh of disbelief. Your best friend was on his way to your apartment when it started raining, by the time he got to your home, his jacket was soaked through, clinging to every part of his torso.

Minho looked at you and shrugged as he took off his jacket, “I dunno, I did start going to the gym with Changbin and Chan.”

“You look hot.” You said with a smirk, taking his jacket from him, leaving the room to put it in the dryer. Minho stood there with a flush on his face.

“Did she just say…I look hot?!” Minho thought to himself, his mind going a million miles an hour as his heart hammered in his chest. This wasn’t good for him, sure the two of you flirt sometimes, but he knows it’s nothing more than playful, at least on your end.

Minho placed his hand on his chest, taking deep breaths to calm his raging heart. You stroll back into the room and notice him taking deep breaths. “Hey you good?” You near him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Minho flinches slightly at your touch before melting into it.

“Yeah…I’m fine.” He gave a weak grin. “Dude, your face is super red.” You say in a worried tone, your hands cupping his red cheeks. His eyes go wide at your action, you realize and pull away, your face now heating up.

“Sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me.” You shake your head in embarrassment, you feel like your heart is about to rip through your body. “Fuck.” Minho groaned, moving to sit down on your sofa. “Don’t be sorry…it’s okay, I didn’t mind it.”

Your eyes lock with his, walking over to him almost as if you were entranced by him and he was drawing you in. You stood in front of Minho, gazing down into his pretty brown eyes, your eyes fall to the small little mole on his nose. You smile to yourself as you unconsciously trail your finger along it, down to his lips.

In an instant you’re snapped out of your daze, retracting your hand from Minho’s face. You were about to apologize before being suddenly pulled into his lap. Minho held your hips as you straddled his hips. You face heating up with each passing second. Minho leaned into, hesitantly nudging your nose with his.

Your breath hitches as his eyes shift their gaze to your lips. Unconsciously, you jolt your tongue across your lower lip, causing them to glisten. “Fuck,” you breathe out shakily, “your lips are pretty.” Before you could even process your own words, the boy in front of you pulls you in by the nape of your neck, attaching his lips to yours.

You moan into the kiss as his hands trail down towards your ass before gently squeezing at it. “Min,” you whined, a knowing feeling surged through you that you dreaded, the two of you needed to talk about what’s happening. “Shh, let’s enjoy this, then talk.” He said between kisses.

Minho’s hands made their way to the hem of your shirt, slipping them under, touching your warm skin. “Soft.” He smiled against your lips before cupping your breasts under your shirt causing you to gasp out a moan. Your hands fly to Minho’s hair as he begins peppering kisses along your neck, his hands still groping at your chest.

You roll your hips into his, Minho lets out a pleasurable sigh at the friction. His hands trail down your curves to the swell of your ass before grasping it in his palms. You groaned at the touch, both of his hands and the rolls of your hips.

Minho places a kiss on your collarbone as he lightly smacks your clothed ass. You jolt at the sudden slap but it didn’t induce too much pain.

“Min,” you sigh, fingers pulling against his hair full of need. You can feel arousal pooling, you wouldn’t be surprised if it already stained your shorts by now.

Minho sneaks his hands under the waistband of your shorts and onto your warm skin, gently pushing down your shorts while massaging the flesh there. You allow him to slip it down, shifting your legs so that you can slide the material off.

Before Minho could guide you back into his lap, you stay in your awkward lifted position, slipping out of your underwear, which you can now see has a very evident wet patch on it.

“Fuck.” Minho breathes out, his hands feeling up your curves, “You’re hot you know that?” You feel your cheeks warm at his sudden praise, shifting your head to the size so that the boy underneath you doesn’t see your blush. But of course Minho notices, he smirks pridefully to himself, tongue poking out between his teeth.

Minho brings his hand up to slap your ass again but he stops dead in his tracks as he watches intently as you work your fingers at his jeans. Minho stares at you, the way your cheeks are red, the way your hands shake slightly with excitement, the way you’re rubbing your thighs together as you finally unbutton and unzip his fly.

Minho lifts his hips, after snapping out of his daze that you put him in, allowing you to pull his pants and boxers down in one swoop. His cock freely stood against his lower abdomen, red and veiny, precum leaking at the tip, not too big but definitely above average.

Minho’s desire for you grew even more as he watched you drool over his cock, the one that you had yet to actually touch. “Come sit your pretty pussy on me, yeah kitten?” Your eyes widen at the pet name, a wave of lust rushing through your body that has your cunt clenching around nothing.

Adjusting yourself back comfortably into his lap, you take hold of his cock aligning it with your hole. You probe your throbbing cunt with the tip, an erotic mewl leaving your lips. Sounds of your mains overlapping filled the room as you finally sunk down onto his cock, fully bottoming out.

The stretch burned, it burned so much that it brought tears to your eyes, but that wasn’t about to stop you from rolling your hips down onto Minho. “Wait baby, I didn’t stretch you- just wait okay.” Minho grunts as your forehand falls against his. His hands held you still as you clenched around his cock, adjusting to his size.

“You okay now kitten?” You hastily nod, your hips twitching with neediness. Minho chuckles before guiding you off his cock before moving you back down. You both let out a groan when you start speeding up the pace of your movement.

Minho’s hands now just gripping at your waist as you bounce on his cock. The tip of his cock hits you right in your g spot causing your thighs to tremble slightly. Your orgasm grows closer and closer with each bounce.

Minho bites his lip at the sight in front of him; your lip caught between your teeth as your face scrunches up in pleasure, tits bouncing through your shirt, and your cunt taking his cock so well.

The feeling of you clenching so tightly around him drove him towards his climax.

“Fuck babe, imma cum.” Minho grunted as he bucked his hips up to meet yours. You moaned loudly at how his cock filled you deeply. Your whines begin to rise as your orgasm hits you like a truck. With the combination of you creaming all over his cock and the intense clenching of your cunt, Minho’s cock twitches as he pours his load into you with a deep groan.

“Holy shit,” You breath out shakily, “we just did that.” Minho chuckles as he lifts you enough to slip his cock out, he could feel as his cum dripped out of your cunt and onto his pelvis.

“Fuck I love you…I have for a while.” Minho pants in disbelief as he gazes into your exhausted eyes. You nuzzle your head into his neck with a smile, “I’ve loved you too Min, for a while.”

[littlemisshyperfixation]

Yoongi Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

part 2

Series

In the Margins (a s f) by @bonvoyagenoona ⊹₊⋆ You weren’t sure what he would look like. His writing made you think of a cabin nestled among tall pines, a well-worn cardigan, a scotch neat, and a wistful wisp of smoke seeping into the air from the bowl of an unattended tobacco pipe. What stands before you now is a studio apartment in the city, cigarette butts, coffee stains, and a scowl. There’s definitely been a mistake.

Fix You (f a) by @casuallyimagining ⊹₊⋆ When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal?

desolate (a f s) by @angelicyoongie ⊹₊⋆ you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

One Shots

Set Me Free (a f) by @casuallyimagining ⊹₊⋆ Tired of being told how to live his life and unsure of where he stands in the world, Yoongi--your soulmate--yearns to be free. When you give him what he wants, it causes a rift in your relationship that seems irreparable. 12 years later, you find him back in your life. Can you mend your relationship? Do you even want to?

back-burner (a f s) by @yoonpobs ⊹₊⋆ sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

Love Language (a s f) by @gukslut ⊹₊⋆ Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have.

27 Phone Numbers (f) by @bxebxee ⊹₊⋆ Yoongi has gone through twenty-seven phone numbers over the last ten years, and you haven’t changed yours since high school. 

sweetner (f s) by @taegularities ⊹₊⋆ You used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn't reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.

One Chance (f) by @out-of-jams ⊹₊⋆ A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project. And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Seasons Change (a s) by @taetaesbaebaepsae ⊹₊⋆ Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.

All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t (a f s) by @daechwitatamic ⊹₊⋆ You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

Now We Reign (a s f) by @oddinary4bts ⊹₊⋆ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

take five (a f) by @jiminrings ⊹₊⋆ you're min yoongi's nurse and you have a crush on him, and he gives you five chances to ask him out - he never said anything about accepting though.

The Final - Day 02 (s) by @yoongiofmine ⊹₊⋆ You've been Yoongi's go-to companion for the past few years, well aware that's all you were going to be. Despite your very real, growing feelings for the rapper, you took what you could get every time. Now, you're backstage at day two of the final leg of his tour when another member takes an interest in you. Will it be enough to make Yoongi realize he's got competition?

hello soulmate (f) by @bluemari23 ⊹₊⋆ your first day on the job doesn't turn out the exact way you envisioned

Sugar Rush Ride (s) by @lo1k-diamonds ⊹₊⋆ You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

fuck being friends (a f s) by @strawberrynamjoon ⊹₊⋆ as if watching the guy you were hopelessly in love with hook up with another girl each weekend wasn’t enough, he also happened to be your best friend, making things extra complicated. and it only gets worse and worse once he finds you crying in the bathroom at a party one night.

Take One (s f) by @untaemedqueen ⊹₊⋆ There are three things which Yoongi was certain of. One, he was a big star in his field of work. Two, he had a huge cock, one to rival many of the largest names in his industry. Three, he can only find pleasure these days in written word. 

Illicit Favors (f s) by @yoongiofmine ⊹₊⋆ When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.

Bet On It (s) by @minisugakoobies ⊹₊⋆ What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?

subscribed (s f) by @aquagustd ⊹₊⋆ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?

[mrfoox]

Me? Hauling ass out of bed bc i realize my cats are probably playing with a bumblebee in my bedroom at 4 am?

It's more likely than you think

[bitchimasnake-sss]

I need a part 2 to ‘meddle about’😩 I loveee your writing

i was literally about to go sleep rn but made a conscious decision to ignore the needs of my body to write horny filth <3

☆ into you!

part 02 to meddle about! // in which the younger itoshi loses all inhibitions. //

synopsis: who knew being involved with itoshi rin would be such a headache? now, about 10,000 km away from home, you realize that you're stuck with him in barcelona. as distances between you two grow greater, the only thing that brings you closer is an... aphrodisiac?! pairing: afab!reader x itoshi rin [aged up.] wc: 5.5k cw: NOT PROOFREAD. WRITTEN CAUSE I LOVE DESPERATE MEN. MDNI. includes: A LOTTT OF PLOTTT!! dom-ish!reader x bottom!rin. one-room only trope (hehehehehhe), aphrodisiac, guided handjob, praise (m!receiving), overstimulation (m!receiving), rin cries so, i guess dacryphilia(?). they're both gonna piss you off and you're gonna love it. guess starring: rin's COMMUNICATION ISSUES 🗣️🔊 m.list

it took you exactly 45 mins sitting next to rin itoshi in a closed-off airplane to decide that either he was the dumbest man alive or he needed a guided lesson to understand social cues. or maybe, just maybe, he was such an entitled prick that he could just simply ignore a fuming woman next to him for forty-five minutes straight without as much as a worry-line on his pristine forehead.

you had huffed and huffed, and then huffed some more by the time rin finally asked you a question. the question? "are you cold or something?"

"no?" your eyebrows bunched at his question. could he not see the blanket you had draped over your lap as you had cozied in the seat he had paid for?

"then why are you making so much noise?"

"oh?" you scoffed, "if it is this hard to be seated next to me, then please get off on the next layover and catch a flight back home."

his answer came before you could even finish, "no, i'm good."

and then again, the cycle of silence repeated itself by dragging itself along it's sickening pattern. rin flipped through a magazine, locked in as if there was nothing more enticing to him than the history of airplanes and their mechanism, all while you fumed in your seat.

it's not like you wanted to talk to rin itoshi or something!

it's just the principle of the situation that pissed you off beyond belief! here you two were, sitting next to each-other in a metal contraception that was hovering several hundred feet above ground to land you in another continent — a process that was going to take several hours. there was absolute silence — most people dozing off, reading or watching a movie by themselves while enjoying the finer things in life like champagne and caviar.

if there was any place in earth to sort out miscommunications, then this was probably the top of that list! and yet, that raven-haired man lost himself in the world of airplane mechanics. like, what even?!

again, it's not like you wanted rin itoshi to apologize to you or something!

it's just shouldn't he atleast bother after trying so hard that day? i mean, it's not like you missed the way his hands felt or the expensive, well-curated fragrance of his car whenever he picked you up or dropped you, or whatever lopsided, half-baked smile he gave you every once in a while. no, it was the principle of the situation that was bothering you!

you sighed and rin gave you a side-eye without even turning an inch to face you. he cleared his throat, another question at the tip of his stupid — albeit, very skilled — tongue, "do you want to drink?"

"no." you spit out, almost impressed at how good he was at being wrong, "obviously not." actually, right now, with a headache next to you, some wine sounded delightful. "actually— i mean, wine sounds nice."

rin pushed the button to call the airstaff and you let go of any of your restraints. you turned towards him, body leaning into his physical space as if you needed to examine him up-close for brain damage, "do you really not know what's bothering me?"

"no." rin admitted seriously and your eyebrows furrowed at how sincere he sounded. you repeated, "you don't?"

he shrugged and you found yourself muttering, "seriously? you don't?"

"no," he turned his face to look at you and deadpanned, "either tell me what's wrong or shut up and go to sleep."

the audacity! here you were trying to communicate with him while he thought you should 'go to sleep'??? he should go to hell!

"fine." you clenched you jaw, turning around to wait for your wine in peace. under your breath, you muttered, "sae would probably never act like this."

"what was that?"

you turned to the pro-player, eyes narrowed and tongue venomous, "i cannot wait to see sae play in real life."

"thanks to me, yes." rin shrugged, "and his play isn't that impressive. the media just happens to make any lukewarm bullshit look good on tele."

"th-thanks to you?!" you spluttered, still not moving on from the first half of his statement, "i'm sorry but did i not refuse to come and you begged me—"

"—beg is a strong word."

"you begged me to come, rin itoshi." you bit back and rin turned to you with his own eyes narrowed, "i didn't beg you, i just didn't want you to think i took advantage of you."

"you literally, literally left me laying on the couch while you ran off to the bathroom for god-knows-what reasons!" you ranted, leaning in till your noses were inches apart and you two were all up in each other's business, "and then, next morning you left me all alone in your stupid penthouse—"

"i left you a text and food?" now it was rin's turn to act confuse. he inched forward daringly and the tips of your noses collided. eyes against yours in a heated dance, he hissed, "and i drew you a bath which you never even took."

"hah?" you scoffed, not pulling back lest he thinks he has won the competition against you, "that explains leaving me after we were done?"

"i rushed to the bathroom bec—" and then for the first time in his adult life, rin itoshi froze. because, tell me, how in god's name was he supposed to admit that just one look at your flushed, post-orgasm face had him spilling into his sweats as if puberty had hit him yesterday? just one split-second look away from your pretty pussy to your ruined face was enough for his to lose all physical restraint over his well-trained body? how could he let you see that, or even hear about it? it was embarrassing. worse, it was ego-threatening.

how was rin itoshi supposed to admit that he couldn't help but feel all types of things whenever you were around?

so, instead, he bit his tongue and made up an excuse — a bad one, but an excuse nonetheless, "i rushed because i remembered something."

"in the bathroom?" you repeated slowly and he nodded, hoping that the warmth of his cheeks wasn't on display.

"i— remembered that i needed to take a shower."

"immediately afterwards?"

"yes, sweat makes me feel gross." he nodded again, averting his gaze from you, "it's just one of those things."

"oh my god, you're such a fucking prick!" now, maybe those aren't the words you should be saying to the man who was paying for your flight to see your favourite player but he did just admit that he left you alone to take a stupid shower.

you two were only interrupted by the air-hostess bringing you a much-needed glass of wine. for the next nine hours till your next layover, you didn't even bother glancing at rin itoshi's stupid face.

but as you sat in silence, you realized that the upcoming days were going to be nice, atleast. you had planned an entire cozy itinerary without rin itoshi to meddle in your business, infact. the plan was simple: were going to land the next evening, and would probably stay-in that night to recover from the jet lag. the next morning you planned to visit some local areas, cafes, and such. and the third day was sae's match. then, you'd catch the flight home! fun!

so, you took in a deep breath, reminding yourself that it was only a matter of hours before you could get rid of rin. until then, all you had to do was ignore him. correct!

it was only after you had landed in barcelona that you interacted with rin — not too much though, only to thank him for the tickets and to avail you a taxi since he claimed he knew enough spanish to get around.

"what?" the pro-player cocked an eyebrow, dialing some number on his phone, "we're going to the hotel together, why do you need another taxi?"

"you paid for my hotel room?" your eyes widened, your grip on reality seemingly slipping as you realized that rin itoshi probably wouldn't book some cheap, 3rd-class hotel.

"yes?" he answered just as nonchalantly before answering the phone and sprouting out some spanish.

and there go your cozy vacation plans down the drain!

"you—" you were tongue-tied, so catastrophically shocked that you weren't even sure of what was happening and what wasn't, "why would you do that?!"

"well?" rin covered his phone half-heartedly, looking at you as if you were the one who had gone mad, "did you think i would just bring you here and leave you as it is?"

you stepped closer to him, voice hushed so as to not cause a scene at the airport, "i don't need more favours that you. i told you that."

"don't worry." rin muted the call with a quick swipe, "i am not gonna ask for any favours in return. this one's on me..." you almost missed the next few words, "cause i've been a prick lately."

you're not quite sure how it happened or why, but here you stood at the reception of a seven-star hotel while rin held a heated discussion with the staff in a foreign language.

many minutes passed by, following which the pro-player finally came walking back to you. his face fell, "they're saying they only have one room free."

"what?"

"i swear i booked two. i'm not playing around with you." you heard a mild panic in his otherwise cool tone and you held a palm up, "it's good — a sign from the universe! i should probably go, anyways. i'll find an accommadati—"

"no." rin was fierce. his face dipped lower, hot breath fanning across your face as he repeated, "you're not doing anything stupid like that. if anyone has to go, i will. you stay here."

"rin." you tried to argue but the receptionist called rin back for some reason. the next time rin came back to you, he was sickeningly pale.

"what did they say? someone has to go, right. i will—"

"—uh," the man looked at the polished marble underneath, his lower lashes so prominent as he closed his eyes, "they actually, kinda upgraded us to a honeymoon suite."

huh? honestly, this wasn't the weirdest thing that had happened to you this month. what's next? you're gonna go to the room and find a stack of condoms and a invitation for you two to fuc—

"—k me." you spoke aloud as soon as you entered the room. not only was it thrice the size of your studio apartment, and had a private pool in the balcony, but on the bed lay a stack of condoms, chocolates, cliche rose petals and an classy envelope with MR. AND MRS. ITOSHI printed on it.

rin picked the card up, opened it up and immediately went beet-red. you wouldn't be surprised if the card read "have a good time fucking!"

"i- i'll take the couch." rin stuffed the card deep into the pocket of his pants, ignoring the climbing warmth that painted his pale face uncharacteristically scarlet, "you take the bed."

"don't be ridiculous. i'm not taking the bed."

"there's no point arguing." he averted his gaze skillfully, hoping that the pink dusting his cheeks was not visible to you, "i... i'll take the couch. meanwhile, you can go wash up."

well, to be fair even the couches here looked better than your home couch but again, it was about the principle of the situation!

barcelona, day 01. evening.

truly, there was no point arguing with the rin itoshi because now, here you were ten minutes later, clearing the bed and throwing the chocolates and flavoured condoms in the side-drawer, never to be used by you two.

once done, you laid your clothes out and made your way to the shower. your footsteps were soft pitter-patters against the delicate rug and rin glanced back from the couch.

"shower?" he asked, and you nodded. at your curt answer, he pressed his lips into a thin line, "if you need something, call my name. i'll come."

you had slipped in the bathroom with nothing more than a soft nod to acknowledge him because... let's be real, why would you need him while showering? he could rest assured that there would no shenanigans happening on your end.

but now as the soft, luxurious soapsuds lapped against your skin so gently, the warm water of the tub slowly growing cold and leaving you devoid of any warmth in it's wake, you considered calling rin in.

closing your eyes, a dark, familiar curtain fell in front of your eyes and you tipped your head upwards. chewing on your bottom lip, you were divided whether the deal you and rin had once struck up still stood? and in that case, did you owe him something since he was responsible for your accommodation for the next three days here. but then again, he did act like a prick and maybe it was his way of making it up to you. but then again, he didn't act as much of a prick to repent by keeping you in a fucking seven-star residence.

you brought your hands over your face, the skin growing colder ever so slowly under the cruel stretch of time you were subjecting yourself to. then, some sort of peace washed over you. you dragged your hands down your skin, looking at the wooden door to the bathroom.

something clicked.

maybe, maybe this decision wasn't for you to take? maybe rin itoshi was the one who was supposed to decide if he wanted you or not?

"rin!" you called out, finally.

the doorknob turned almost immediately and you half-heartedly wondered if he had been standing at the edge, waiting for the echo of his name past your lips. of course not. but it was fun to imagine that rin itoshi wanted you so desperately.

on the other side, rin had been standing at the doorstep, listening to the soft cascades and waves of water as you took your sweet time in there. okay, maybe it was a bit pathetic for a pro-player like him to stand at the edge of a door waiting to be summoned but it's not like you'd ever know, right? right?

but as soon as he heard the shout of his name, his fingers found the cold metal and he stepped inside — and there you were. you had drawn up a flimsy towel to cover up your soaking body, soapsuds still clinging helplessly onto your legs as you stood at the edge of the humongous bathtub.

"ye-yeah?" rin commanded his attention to focus on the bathtub and not you. because if he looked at your soaked skin and hair, your perked buds against the soft fabric of the towel and the slightly rosy tint of your cheeks — rin was convinced he would either go insane from the idea or never having you again or do something that'll break the promise of being strangers.

"i, uh—" your gaze ran it's course from him to the vacant bathtub. a lone sweat droplet traveled down the ridge of your spine and you blamed the hotness of the enclosed bathroom for it. voice unsure, you asked, "i wanted to heat the water up. it got cold, so..."

"uhm," rin swallowed, brushing past you to look at the array of smaller buttons at the edge of the bathtub.

"this one." he pointed to a button which had hot written on it. "just press it till the temperature is to your liking."

"oh?" you leaned in, staring at the button next to him, "right." a nervous laugh rang out in that closed, hot room, "i don-don't know how in the world did i miss that."

rin turned around, avoiding to look at you, "s'okay."

you were so close that he could smell the fragrance of the expensive bath gel on your skin. the smell went straight to his head, intoxicating him and making him stutter in his usually confident demeanor. he wondered if he reached out and played with the wet strands of your hair, will you push his hand back or slap him?

but rin itoshi wasn't looking for the answer to that question, so he just asked, "anything else?"

you shook your head with a soft no.

"okay, then." rin took hurried step towards the door, never once looking back to you, "and hurry up, i- uh, i gotta wash up too."

"o-okay?"

he shut the door behind him with a surprisingly loud thud! and now, you stood in the previously occupied bathroom with a confirmed answer: rin itoshi did not want you. like... at all.

that's what his cold demeanor had told you, atleast. he had not even bothered to give you a look that lasted more than a spilt-second and then promptly left as soon as he felt it fitting. you sunk back into the cold water, half-annoyed at yourself for calling him and half-annoyed at him for being so fucking closed-off.

for the rest of the day, you both had minimal contact. he didn't bother you with questions, and you didn't annoy him with answers. rin was busy on his laptop, attending team meetings and answering sponsors about his sudden getaway to spain while you just sat on the bed, doomscrolling the rest of the evening away. somehow, within your silences, you both had found a comfortable pattern to just be.

that was until dinner.

"you're not going to bed?" you tried to ask, patting the pillows to fluff them up to your liking.

"no," rin didn't bother looking back from where he sat on the couch. a glass of wine pinched between his fingers, a monotonous expression on his pretty face, "i have some work to finish up. are you? going to sleep... i mean?"

"yeah." you nodded and a silence fell across the room. within the thick fog of silence, you could almost tell apart the strumming of your own heart. moments turned eternal and you held your bated breath for some kind of acknowledgement from him. when none came, you spoke up again, "are you sure you'd be okay on the couch?"

"mhm. don't worry."

"okay then," you pursed your lips, laying down on the godawfully soft mattress, "see you tomorrow... goodnight."

"g'night." he finally breathed out and you're not quite sure when exactly you fell asleep on the silken sheets, but you were awoken by the sound of someone showering once the sky was bright and clear.

barcelona, day 02.

rin didn't say anything to you as he walked out of the shower with his hair wet, nor did you say anything to him as you got ready for a day of tourist activities. he told you he was gonna stay in, said he had sponsor meetings and you bid him goodbye as you went out to see the place around. the day passed by in a blur of tourist activities and kind strangers, away from rin itoshi.

when you came back, he didn't ask you formal questions about how your day was, and you didn't tell him polite answers. you two stayed stuck in your cycle of silence. that was all.

that was all until it was far too late into the night, at least.

you stepped out of the shower, far gone to care about his presence in the room. it was clear that he held no desire for you, so you waltzing out of steaming shower with nothing but a robe was probably child's play to him.

hair wet, face flushed, you found your gaze drifting to the couch only to notice the absence of rin. eyebrows marrying, your gaze scanned the entire room carefully — from the empty couch to the dark balcony to finally, the least probable place: your bed.

and surprisingly, that's where you found him; face flushed, palms sweaty and limbs shaking as he met your eyes. what?

"rin?" instinct took ahold of you, steps rushing to reach the man who looked clearly unwell. you brought a steady palm up to his forehead, checking his temperature. your eyes locked against his dilated ones, words shivering under the intensity, "d-did something happen?"

"i—" rin almost gasped as you put your palm on his neck next to check for the temperature. voice growing gruff, he looked away, "'m fine. i jus' kinda feel— i feel weird."

"weird?" your brows bunched as you trailed a soft palm up to his cheek, and rin shivered under you. "weird how?"

"i dunno." his voice seemed to turn hoarser, as if it had gotten harder to speak with each wayward touch you planted across his scorching skin, "i- i ate their stupid chocolates and—"

"—what?"

"the ones you put in the..." he pointed to the side-table, "there."

you rushed to the side-table, clumsy fingers pulling out the heart-shaped chocolates only to turn them around to read if they said something. and oh boy, was there something they said. aphro—

"—odisiac." you breathed out the word, shaky vision travelling back to the pro-player who seemed to grow tenser and tenser with each passing second.

"rin," you called out carefully, taking a step towards him, "how many of these did you have?"

"th-ree, no, four."

"seriously?!" your voice squeaked, body turning towards him fully to take notice of the sweat beading at his forehead, the sheen plastered across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheek, his labored breathing.

he pulled at the collar of his t-shirt, trying desperately to dissipate the heat that his body seemed to torture him with "i feel hot, and—" rubbing his palms down against his sweats, he looked up at you, utterly helpless. "—what's happening to me? i- don't—"

"it's okay, it's okay." you cut him off, "take off your shirt."

rin followed your command blindly. nimble fingers pinched the ends of his t-shirt only to pull it off himself as fast as he could. underneath the material, his chest was flushed red to match his face.

"d-does it feel any better?" and rin groaned at your stupid question, "no."

the man shifted his pelvis, trying to pull at the waistband of his sweats when your gaze finally traveled to the tent in his pants. he looked pained, eyes frenzied and breath stuttering as he tried to figure out a position where his aching dick didn't drive him insane.

you stepped closer, and closer, and closer till you were standing a mere inches away from him. a finger under his sharp jaw, you pulled his face upwards to meet yours. a slow breath, "rin."

and he almost whimpered at the way you held him still, "y-yeah?"

"let me help."

at his feverish nods, you sunk to your knees. practiced hands tugged at his waistband and he complied all-too-excitedly to lift his hips up and free his cock of this endless torture.

his muscles visibly relaxed at your slow breathing against his heated tip — reddened, it oozed pre out that cascaded down his shaft. rin threw his head back, wet hair sticking to his nape as you placed a carefully calculated kiss to the tip. your tongue carefully pressed against his slit as you sucked on the tip and rin all but combusted.

"a-ah," his deep voice pitched up, hips squirming as you toyed with him, "fuck, fuck fuuhck—"

your hand pulled his towards his cock and he looked down at you, confused, "what..?"

your eyes stayed locked against him as you placed his own hand on the bottom half of his erection, hollowed cheeks still sucking on the tip. your hand encompassing his own, you guided him to slowly stroke himself as you kept toying with his flushed tip.

"fuck-ing god." rin breathed and for once, he didn't avert his gaze from you. your heated hold over his hand prompted him to pump himself faster. and although, his own touch was familiar, the way you looked up at him — all doe-eyes and sinful kisses — made his thighs shake.

"god—" his voice choked, head thrown back and eyes clenching shut in an effort to not cry at the way your tongue played against his silt, how your hand squeezed his, urging him, begging him to go on.

you let go of his tip only to pull his face downwards to look at you, "look at me. stop fuckin' running away."

and this time, a whimper did escape him at your words. lips wobbling, eyebrows bunched and lashline heavy with unresolved tears — rin itoshi was fuckin' beautiful as he stared down at you.

you pressed another kiss to the tip and his hand sped up under your command until— splash! his toes curled, body leaning back as his voice shook with desperate moans, and thick, white ribbons of cum painted his hand and your lips in a wretched pearlish glow.

rin huffed, eyes blown wide at the view of his essence on your lips and the way you seemed to pursue his taste with your tongue— cleaning him up so carefully that it made him hard all over again. shit.

a sudden strong hold on your arms pulled you upto him and his jittery fingers pulled at the belt of your robe to have you all to himself. as he tried to undo the knot with his shaky fingers, you raked a hand through his wet hair, travelling backwards till your palm was cradling the back of his head ever-so-softly.

and then, you pulled at the base of his strands and rin whined in response. the lewd sounds accompanied the driveling of his hips into the cold air, and with each strained rut, more of his cum oozed down his abused cock.

"fuck, rin." it was your turn to whimper, now. eyes blown and face heated, you looked between the man and his erect, throbbing, filthy cock. who knew rin itoshi could be so fucking messy?

eyes clenched, lips agape and breath stolen — rin itoshi was rendered useless and you pushed him backwards into the bed before disrobing yourself.

your naked body climbing over his, you pumped his overstimulated cock with a languid pace, using his own essence as a lubricant for his own undoing.

"fuck." his eyes stayed clenched, forehead drawn into lines as his body responded to each one of your endlessly torturous acts. he gasped as you kissed his neck, his jawline and then, his shoulder.

"you're doin' so well, rin." your voice was soft against his heated skin, and you kissed his jaw again, sucking slow enough for him to lose his mind. then, you repeated, "so fucking well."

and that seemed to be rin itoshi's kryptonite.

words pitched, moans obscene and muscles spasming under your touch, rin came again. and again, and again, and fucking again as you kept toying with him.

now, you're weren't sure if it were only a few minutes since he first came or hours, but as you tugged at his sensitive cock with the sensual drags of your palm, rin actually cried out.

"n-no more." more tears welled up in his eyes, cheeks so deeply flushed as he begged you, "p-please, i can't. i can't."

"you can, baby." you cooed, pressing your thighs together as his desperate pleas went straight to your throbbing cunt. ignoring your own swiveling desire, you pushed the man who once stood so tall to his limits.

"no, no." his hips jerked as you continued to drag your hands along his cock. teeth biting down into his bottom lips, tears fell down the plane of his face. clammy palms clenched and unclenched the silken sheets below as rin barely tried to stop his steady decline into deliriousness, "ple-please. i really can't."

"fine." you purred, hands coming to a slow halt against his heated erection, "i'll stop."

and just as you pulled your hands back to yourself, rin's wet eyes widened. despite his aching bones and jelly-like muscles, the man lunged forward to catch your wrist in his fingers.

"no," he breathed, eyes watering at the sudden lack of skin-on-skin contact. he repeated, this time with a bit of force in his voice, "no."

leaning forward, you caught his kissbitten lips against yours. cutting the kiss short, your words were soft against his, "you want it?"

and he nodded again, tongue rendered useless with how heavy it felt in his mouth. you drew a careful hand up his heated thighs, and he trembled under your touch, "say it out loud for me."

"yes." rin shook his head.

your lips trailed down to his jaw, featherlike kisses across his heated skin as your hand sped up yet again in that cruel, familiar pattern. his orgasm built like a crescendo, peaking higher and higher till he was shooting blanks.

when he was all spent out, rin itoshi shuddered and slumped against your arms. breath uneven, hair matted, skin sweaty, fiery and dusted pink as it made contact against your skin.

he looked up at you, half-lidded gaze still haunted by remnants of tears that clung onto his lashes. as if on instinct, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, soothing the searing skin under with your soft act. rin closed his eyes at the closeness, a gasp at the tip of his tongue because all of it felt so foreign.

he wasn't in control of his body — his trusty muscles felt lead-like, head hammering as if his brain would break-though his cranium, and heart thumping out a rhythm that sounded awfully like chants of your name. it was clear, rin itoshi didn't quite feel like himself as you cradled him so softly in your arms.

"you okay?" you asked far too softly, half worried that the wind will catch your words before it reached him. but to your surprise, rin nodded.

"i'll clean you up." you muttered, peripheral vision dragging along the sheets to see what a mess you two had made. his thighs and abs were painted white similarly to your hand, the fluid dripped down to the expensive sheets and stained them. you nodded with resolve, "rest up, i'll be done soon. yeah?"

a heavy croak stopped you. rin looked up at you, voice heavy and eyes watery as if one misstep and he would find himself losing control, "don't go."

maybe it was the finality in his voice that confused you, or the fact that he wanted you around. eitherways, you refuted with a soft shake of your head, "i- i really should, we've made a mes—"

"—don't go."

and so, you didn't. you let your body slump against the bedframe, scorched back against the cool wood and rin rested his cheek against your stomach, his arms pressed against your waist in an innocent hug. you raked your fingers through his sweaty hair before trailing them downwards to massage his nape and weary shoulders. his breath slowed down under your delicate touches and soon enough, he was asleep.

your hands stayed kneading at his muscles, gaze locked in at the man and the shallow rise and fall of his chest. with each soft inhale, the deep blush slowly eased away from his face, leaving behind the same stoic man you had known for a few weeks.

in this silence, you were starkly aware of two routes this relationship arrangement may go: 1) the most probable one: once the pro-player came to his senses, he will regret this — all that came before this, all that may come after this, you — and go no-contact. 2) the least probable one: he'd sit down and have a conversation with you, and then you both could figure out where things would go from here.

knowing rin itoshi though, you mentally prepared yourself for never seeing him again once this trip was over. it wouldn't be hard, obviously. how long did you even know the man? a few weeks, give or take. why would you mourn his presence when you never even quite had him?

you closed your eyes, fingers still softly playing with his tresses. you knew what was to come, knew that this was probably the end of him and you (or whatever it was between him and you), knew that him and you were just a series of favours for favours. and yet, your heart sank as you stared at his face for a moment too long.

rin itoshi was driving you insane!!

but however perceptive you may be, or however properly you think you knew rin — you miscalculated.

because neither did the man take the route of leaving you, nor did he talk things out with you. instead, here you were pinned against the wall in the supply closet. the supply closet of the very same stadium sae itoshi was playing at while rin stared down at you.

"a favour for a favour." he husked, "let me pay you back for last night."

rin itoshi was driving you insane.

a/n: love how i make everything into a three-part series :/ anyways, hope this was a fun enough read. i love men who are so emotionally unwell that it is borderline hilarious. what does that say about me? idk, nor do i wanna find out :) tagging: @ionlyhearnct @mortallyshadysoul @mindfulsreposts @mikaru0 @slutforitoshi @keiitamaa @loonalockley @ouraniaslyre @froggie-zusya23 @levcn @mimi-in-heaven i hope this was satisfying <3

[vanesycho]

Helloo I hope ur doing good! I was just thinking abt minho's hands how skillful he can be with them, if you can't make on this it's totally fine. Thank you !!

• bf!minho x f!reader | m.list

| the hand of your boyfriend who only loves his cat makes you think different things

warning | smut, fingering, minho calls the reader kitty/kitten

word count | 0,6k

author's note | thank you for your request, I hope you like it🤍

enjoy reading！

❝ I think there's another kitty that needs attention. ❞

It was a quiet day on a rainy evening. When you entered the room, you looked at doongie on the bed and Minho playing with it. A smile graced your face as you walked to the bed, Minho noticed you and lifted his head for a moment and continued to play with doongie.

After a few minutes, you got bored of scrolling through your phone so you decided to watch how your boyfriend was playing with the cat. As you watched him scratch and caress doongie's belly, all you could see was his hands. A strange feeling filled you, the warmth that came to your body as you continued to watch his hand started to bother you after a while. Minho felt a pair of eyes on him and looked at you for a moment, while your eyes were still on his hands, he grinned. "Jealous?" You turned your gaze to him, realizing that he was talking to you. "Hm?" Minho took his hand off doongie's belly and put it on the inside of your thigh. "I think there's another kitty that needs attention." he squeezed your thigh lightly, you watched as doongie got off the bed and left the room after the attention left, Minho took advantage of this and got between your legs. "Min-" your words were cut off when his hand came up to your pussy from above your pants, "Oh you're a very naughty kitten, staring at my hand like that." his thumb easily found your clit and pressed it. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you get the attention you want."

He watched with pleasure how you squirmed under him with only one finger inside you, he moved his other hand to your belly and held you in place so you wouldn't move, easily inserted his second finger into your soaked pussy. You were about to close your legs but his harsh voice stopped you. "Don't even think about it." two fingers curled inside you, moving in slow motions as if he wanted to drive you crazy. "Please..Minho, I can't take it.." a grin appeared on his face, "Since when did my little kitten complain so much? Aren't you happy with the attention you're getting?" he stopped his movements, laughed softly when a whimper came out of you, you quickly moved your hand to his wrist as he was about to take his fingers out of you "No- please, keep going.." He looked at you with his eyebrows raised slightly, you moaned again when you felt his fingers move again "That's it..I'll take care of you baby, just be patient hm?"

He sped up his movements as he leaned down and started to place small kisses on your neck, other hand slid down your belly and found your clit, his fingers continued to ruin your insides while his other hand was gently tending to your clit, your pussy started to tighten around his fingers as he realized you were close "Make a mess to my fingers yeah? I knew you could be a good kitten. So fucking good for me." it didn't take long for you to cum as the pleasure you were getting from both sides brought you to your climax, Minho's fingers were filled with your juices and he didn't take his fingers out of you until he was sure you were completely cummed. It took a while longer, which made you whine. He pulled his fingers out of you and slapped your clit a few times. “Fuck- Minho-” he laughed at your teary sound and leaned up to kiss your lips. “Good kitty.” he spoke against your lips as he held your chin, making you look up at him. “Now I need to test if you’re good with your tongue.”

[touyaismycomfortboy]

♡ Forgotten dates...

a/n: idk I just think panicked shoto would be so cute <3

word count: 2.0k

synopsis: you and shoto had a date planned for today, you guys were gonna go out and get ice cream and go to the park. you got all dolled up and waited for him to come pick you up, but as more and more time passed, you started to realize that he had forgotten. now he has to make it up to you.

pairing: shoto todoroki x gn!reader

genre: slight hurt/comfort, fluff at the end, nothing too serious <3

warnings: not proofread and rushed LMAO

you looked in the mirror while you fixed your appearance. you were going on a date with your boyfriend, shoto, and you were so excited. even though you had been on plenty of dates, it always made you happy to spend time with him.

nothing too fancy was happening today, you two were going to get icecream at the local parlor and take a walk around the park. you were going to stuff some cards and a sketchbook in your bag just in case you guys needed something to do after a while. 

it was 3:55pm, shoto was supposed to come get you at 4. you quickly slipped on your shoes and glanced one more time in the mirror before running downstairs. 

unbeknownst to you, shoto was currently asleep. 

he had a rather intense training day today and decided he would rest his eyes for a couple of minutes, but that couple of minutes had turn into hours and, well…

you sat on the couch that was near the window, scrolling on you phone and occasionally looking up to see if you could see shoto, feeing excited and giddy for your guys' date. 

4:02, alright, that's fine. not too bad at all, two minutes late isn't bad at all. you looked back at your phone, seeing if shoto had texted you that he might be late, but he hadn't texted you since this morning.

4:08, okay… now it's weird for him to not have texted you. if he was going to be this late this needs a little warning, it's been almost 10 minutes since was supposed to pick you up, suspicious… you opened your phone once more and opened shoto's contact, texting him quickly. 

y/n: hey, are you almost here yet?? 

(sent)

you waited patiently for it to show that shoto had read your text, but you were left on delivered for the next few minutes. 

you decided to go wait outside, you could see him if he was walking down the street that way. but you walked all the way out to the sidewalk and saw… nothing.

y/n: shotoooo, where are you??

the vibrations of shoto's phone weren't enough to wake him, still sleeping peacefully in his bed back home.

4:15, okay, are you allowed to be mad now? i think you were allowed to be mad now. 

y/n: heyy what's going on? where are u? you were supposed to get me 15 mins agoo

once it hit 4:20, you quickly opened your best friend, mina's, contact and called her. it took her less than 5 seconds to answer and you sighed in relief that at least one person would acknowledge you today.

"hey y/n~! what's up? you usually text me before you call me." mina sounded cheerful on the other end, a small bit of concern lacing her words. 

you started to walk into the direction of her house, doing you best to not look angry to passerby. "mina, shoto forgot about our date and he's ignoring me!" you sounded exasperated. "can i come over? i worked hard to look good today, i'm not letting that go to waste."

mina gasped dramatically on the other end, sounds of her shuffling and moving around coming through the speaker on your phone. "getting ready now, i'll meet you halfway!" she quickly hung up the phone, and you laughed at her urgency.

you shoved your phone in your pocket, trying your best to not let this ruin your day. at least you got to hang out with mina, right?

shoto better have a good explanation for this. 

mina kept her word, and while walking to her house you saw her pink form frantically running towards you in the distance. when she finally got close, she gasped dramatically once more. "you look so cute!! i can't believe shoto would miss out on the chance to see this!" she crossed her arms and frowned. 

you smiled at her, adjusting your clothes. "thank you, mina."

she stomped her foot on the ground, arms still crossed. "how are you being so calm?! you should be so mad at him! look at how cute you are, and he's just ignoring you!" she wrapped her arm around yours and started to lead you to her house. "don't you worry, y/n, we're gonna have so much fun!"

mina didn't tell you this, but as she was walking towards you she was spamming shoto with angry messages. 

mina: SHOTO TODOROKI!! explain yourself right now >:( mina: how DARE you flake off my best friend!!! next time i see you you're getting it!!! mina: i'm gonna go steal ur girl since u can't treat her right >:( mina: I SEE HER SHE LOOKS SO CUTE. HOW COULD U ABANDON HER LIKE THIS????

she might have overreacted, maybe.

shoto woke up during mina's spam, half awake and turning his phone on silent from all the notifications and laid his head down.

then, icy fear struck his heart. he immediately sat up, wide awake now.

he opened his phone to look at the time, almost scared to look.

4:38.

he cursed under his breath, quickly getting out of his bed and changing out of his sweaty clothes, trying to look at his phone as he did so.

6 unread messages.

he saw your texts asking where you were, and pangs of guilt hit him in the gut.

he saw mina spamming him with angry messages, and assumed you had told her and that you were with her right now, he had to hurry up.

he ran down the stairs, his hair still a mess from sleep. his sister fuyumi greeted him, but he quickly ran past her, slipped on his shoes, and ran out the door.

he looked at his location on your phone, he saw you were a couple blocks away and walking in the opposite direction of his house, that must be where mina lives. he quickly took note of what street you were on and started running.

he opened your contact and called you, doing his best to run as fast as he could while still being able to hold the phone to his ear.

you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, quickly reaching into it with your free arm that wasn't linked with mina's and looked at who was calling.

mina looked over your shoulder and snatched your phone out of your hand, shoving it into her own pocket. "nuh-uh! he doesn't get to be 40 minutes late and then steal you from me, you're mine now!" she pouted, squeezing your arm tightly.

"well, maybe he has a good reason-"

"nope!" she pointed her finger at you. "he ignored you, now you ignore him for a little bit to get back at him! then you can talk to him."

you sighed, shaking your head. "and you wonder why you're single." you mumbled under your breath.

mina gasped, holding her hand to her heart. "how could you say such a thing!" she asked, feigning offense.

shoto sighed as the call went to voicemail, putting his phone in his back pocket as he ran towards the street you were on. he couldn't blame you for ignoring him, but he wanted to explain himself to you sooner rather than later.

you didn't live that far away from him, so even though you were walking to mina's house you weren't terribly far away from him. he could make it there in just a couple minutes if he ran fast enough.

guilt was making its way into your gut since you ignored shoto's call, but every time you reached for your phone mina smacked your hand away and insisted that you ignore him back since he ignored you first.

you were almost at mina's house, you could see it in the distance, but then you heard fast footsteps running towards you both.

you instinctively turned around and stood in front of mina to shield her, but you were immediately taken aback by shoto running towards you.

your eyes widened, and he finally reached you he bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. did he run all the way here from his house?

you observed his appearance, his hair was disheveled and his outfit was haphazardly put together, he was sweaty and out of breath. he looked like a mess, not typical for shoto.

mina peeked from over your shoulder, gasping and taking a step around you. "shoto todoroki!! you better have a good explanation for this, i was just about to hang out with her!! you ignore her, and now you come and steal her right as i get her?" she crossed her arms and pouted. 

you smiled and put a hand on mina's shoulder. "girl, it's okay."

"y/n-" shoto said breathlessly, finally standing up as he caught his breath. you looked into his eyes, and all you could see was remorse and guilt. "-i'm so sorry, really." he took a deep breath. "i was training earlier, and i decided to rest my eyes for a little, and i was asleep for longer than i anticipated, i'm sorry for being so late." 

you sighed, a small smile appearing on your face. you were happy that he wasn't ignoring you intentionally, and that he wasn't playing hooky on purpose, but you still felt a little upset.

shoto took your hands in his and ran his thumbs across your knuckles. "i'm very sorry," he looked into your eyes. "would you still like to go out?"

you squeezed his hands lightly, nodding. "yes, of course." you moved your hands away from his, looking over at mina. "sorry, we can plan for tomorrow?" you laughed lightly. 

mina crossed her arms again, more playfully this time. "sure, go off with your boyfriend, just abandon me-" she laughed. "go have fun!!"

she waved at you, then looked at shoto and gave him a death stare. "if you do this again, i'm stealing her." she quickly changed her demeanor and waved at you again. "bye-bye!" and walked off.

you giggled at her actions, you loved your best friend. 

you looked at shoto, seeing his disheveled hair and reaching up to smoothen it out. "did you even look in the mirror before you left?" you smiled. 

"no, i saw the time and had to get to you as soon as possible to apologise." his lips curved upward as you smoothed his hair. "would you still like ice cream?"

once you flattened out his disheveled hair, you stood on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. you then held his hand and squeezed it gently. "well, of course!" 

shoto smiled at your happy demeanor now, happy that he didn't just ruin your whole day. "let's go."

you all peacefully walked to the ice cream parlor, you got your favorite flavor and shoto got plain vanilla. you convinced him to make it a little more fun by adding sprinkles, then stole a bite. 

after you all were done, you walked to the park and traveled down the winding and weaving paths, admiring flowers and occasional birds that passed by. there was a bench that was perfectly in the shade of a large tree nearby and you both decided to sit there.

you sat in comfortable silence for a while, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked at the scenery around you. 

"i'm still sorry for being late." shoto spoke, squeezing your hand for a moment. he felt terrible.

"it's not your fault," you squeezed his hand in return, reassuringly. "maybe next time you could just set an alarm." you giggled.

he smiled, nodding in agreement. "i will." he kissed the top of your head. "i love you, y/n." 

you moved your head to look at him, a subtle blush covering your cheeks. he didn't take those words lightly, you knew every time he said them he absolutely meant them. "i love you too, sho." 

[kooqitas]

#pairing: brothers-friend!yoongi x reader.

#genre: smut MINORS DNI | #w.c: ~1500

#synopsis: your brother ended up forcing his friend to come to your house and give you tutoring… but the class wasn't exactly what he wants

#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, fingering, praise kink, humiliation, nipple play, overstimulation.

#notes: not proofread, english isn’t my first language! 

★ m.list | inbox :D ;; taglist

you wanted to kill jungkook when you heard that he had asked yoongi to help you with your art history class, you knew that he had finished his college course last year and you were just starting, of course min yoongi was the best person to help you.

but, he is min yoongi.

you hated min yoongi, the (now) history teacher was your brother's friend since the beginning of college, at that time you had just started high school, now, a few years later, yoongi was a teacher at a children's school while you did some extracurricular courses beyond college.

min yoongi was always insufferable, he always treated you like his 'best friend's little sister' in the worst sense of the word, and it didn't help one bit when he started getting absurdly… hot. you would never admit it out loud, but damn, min yoongi was fucking hot the last few years. now that you sometimes went out together (because of your brother) you always hoped that when yoongi took you home, since jungkook always ends up with some random girl, he would finally see you as a woman...

you rolled your eyes when you heard the door open, min yoongi had the password so he didn't even bother to knock.

“good night, princess! your brother is going to the party and left me with the punishment of helping you."

"you can leave if you want, min yoongi! i’m not keeping you here" you answered.

he rolled his own eyes, placing some books on the table and sitting on the couch to help you.

a few hours passed, and the truth is that it was unbearable to be next to yoongi, he was unbearably intelligent... and hot, fucking hot. the tension of being in the same environment as yoongi was driving you crazy, he was smug and it irritated you, especially when he asked arrogantly how you didn't know about something.

you knew yoongi was watching you, at the end of the day he was still a man and your thin shirt and shorts weren't the most decent outfit to wear at the moment, but it's not like you minded having his eyes on you.

but, to be honest, you like it… a lot…

at a certain point, yoongi stood behind your body, his chest touching your back, and that's when you realized that he wasn't just staring at you... yoongi was excited, whatever shit was going through his head.

“so dumb...” he chuckled in his ear, making you shiver a little from the warm air that hit you. "i think you need another way to understand things..."

"what are you-" you tried to question when yoongi slid the thin strap of your shirt down your shoulder, but before you could finish, his hand was on your nipple, his index finger gently passing there, which made you sigh. "what the fu-"

"your brother said i should teach you... but he didn't say what..." he chuckled, still pressing your nipple. "i'm gonna teach you how to cum on my cock."

your body shook, enough for him to notice and smile.

“yoongi stop it!” you scolded him, trying to pull the strap of your blouse up, but yoongi just stopped you, using his strength to continue squeezing the nipple of your breast that was already swollen in his hand while you moaned softly.

"stop? but you won't stop moaning, doll! i'm dying to touch that little body, you know? you've grown up and become so hot..."

yoongi lowered your shirt completely, exposing your two nipples, he took his fingers to the one that hadn't yet been touched, and added his thumb to the one he already had the touch of his index finger, squeezing and massaging there while laughing at every sly moan you made while tried to get away from him.

you wanted that like hell, just like him, but damn, jungkook would kill yoongi if he dreamed that he touched you like that, your brother hated your one-night stands because he knew someone was 'taking advantage' of his sister, now imagine him discovering that at that moment the person taking advantage of you was his best friend.

"stop trying to resist, i'll deal with your brother later..."

yoongi continued squeezing your nipples, while it was delicious it was torture, your panties got more and more wet and all you had was the simple touch of his fingerprints on you.

yoongi turned you around, and at that moment everything was lost, you had never seen his eyes so dark. but your exchange of glances didn't last long, seconds later he had his mouth on your nipple, wetting your entire pout with his saliva while you moved on his body.

"all of this because of a nipple suck? i think it's better if you don't cum just from that, it would be pathetic!" he laughs, leaving a bite that makes you grab his hair.

you couldn't respond, his touches being too much for you, and everything got worse when one of his hands went down to his shorts, taking advantage of the fact that they were thin just to pull them aside, along with his wet panties.

"of course a slut like you would be wet from just that, right?" he ran his finger all over your cunt, making every inch of you feel his fingers and shiver while he still sucked your nipple. "what would your brother think of that, hm? what would he say if he knew i am gonna finger that pussy now? do you think he would complain? would he get mad at me?" yoongi laughed, thrusting two fingers at once into you, deep inside, making you moan, clinging onto his shoulder. "he would probably say that i'm taking away his little sister's innocence, but what innocence?"

he inserted another finger, the rhythm becoming a little more violent as you also rubbed yourself against him, feeling his fingers go deep into you, the sound of your liquid being more audible than the loud moans you made.

"and i hope him forgive me, but from now on i'll do this all the time, and when i can't bring you in my car, i'll fuck you in the bathroom at the party, or in the dark corner, anywhere."

you saw him remove his fingers from you and then pull down your shorts and underwear, his fat cock jumping out making you salivate.fuck, the wet swollen glans made you desire yoongi even more, being full of him was the only thing that mattered now.

"the slut is happy that she's going to receive cock, isn't she?"

yoongi rubbed the head of his cock at your entrance, but he didn't enter you, he just stood there, rubbing, looking at your face while you moaned completely desperately asking him to enter you.

"that, beg me! show me how much that pussy needs my cock!"

“yoongi, fuck, please!” you moaned, body shaking as he rubbed his cock against you.

"does my whore need cock?”

"please!"

"your brother has no idea what a slut he has at home, right? thinking you're a saint, but you're nothing more than a little whore desperate to be filled."

"please..."

"please what?"

"fuck me, please yoongi"

he laughed, thrusting his dick into you, which made you choke at first, yoongi was big, nothing abnormal, but still big enough to fill you up. he went slow but deep, making you shiver every time the big dick hit your uterus.

“greedy little bitch” yoongi said as he increased his speed, his body rocking against the couch and your tits bouncing, yoongi laughed sadistically seeing the scene, seeing you squirm beneath him.

he sucked your nipple again, making you literally scream with pleasure, you had never felt anything like that.

"shut the fuck up, or all the neighbors will know you're get fucking by me!"

but you couldn't do it, the orgasm approaching in your belly, the fat cock opening you up and hitting the right spot, the hot tongue on your nipple, it was all too much, and yoongi realized.

yoongi removed his mouth from your nipple, only to slap them a few times, what was already red became even more so, and you could only scream in pleasure. yoongi clenched your jaw, making you open your mouth and then spitting there before finally kissing you.

"i should record this and show it to his brother, let him know that the little sister he cares for so much is a cumslut"

the wet, sloppy kiss, while he still hit you deep and fast, was enough to make you come, but yoongi didn't stop, even with your body shaking.

"a good slutty takes everything they give her." he kept thrusting, the overstimulation making your body react on its own and try to pull away as he fucked you harder and harder... you were going crazy and then yoongi finally came

you thought he was gonna stop, but what yoongi did was continue, watching his cum drip all over your leg and couch. and when his dick finally stopped leaking, he rubbed it against your clit, making you whimper softly as you came again...

“shit, jungkook is gonna kill you!”

"he might even kill me, but first i’m gonna fuck you a lot!" he said laughing, lowering his head to your pussy starting to eat you.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Eddie and his bisexual awakening.

Eddie didn't know he also liked men until Steve Harrington landed in his life with that perfect hair, sweet nature, admirable bravery, and divine everything.

It took Eddie being mauled by the bats, almost dying multiple times, and freaking out with Wayne about his not-so-heterosexual thoughts to realize that Steve’s moles and freckles were fucking beautiful.

He knew he had been down bad when he couldn't stop waxing poetries about the guy all day and visiting Family Video whenever he could, which made him the store’s regular much to Robin’s entertainment.

Although she didn't say anything, he was quite sure that she had clocked him as queer by now. He just hoped that she would eventually clue him in about Steve’s interest if he showed enough of his consistency.

“How can I help you?”

Eddie leaned his arm on the counter and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly at Robin’s mirthful look, he could feel his cheeks heat up just by being so obvious about it.

Not to mention today marked his two months of hopeless pining.

“Uhm, is Steve here today?” He asked softly.

Instead of answering him, she turned slightly to call over her shoulder.

“Dingus, your boy is here!”

If Eddie wasn’t blushing before, he definitely was now.

“What– I’m not–”

“Which ones?” Steve’s voice called back from the inside.

And okay, Eddie knew it was stupid to get jealous over something so random because one, he was only Steve’s friend, and two, he had no claim over Steve except the massive crush he had on the guy.

But he was. Furious and bristled about the fact that he wasn’t the only person besides Robin who monopolized Steve’s free time during boring shifts.

“Who else has visited him lately?” Eddie planted his hands on the counter and narrowed his eyes, not caring that he wasn’t being subtle at all.

“Let’s see,” she tapped her chin contemplatively and started counting by her fingers, “you, obviously. Then Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.”

That’s it? Eddie blinked owlishly at her, waiting for the punch line. But what came next was—

“Leave the poor guy alone, Robs.”

Steve finally emerged from the back room and hip-checked Robin as he walked over to her side.

“He’s just so easy,” Robin huffed out a laugh.

“Stop spreading lies about me, Buckley,” Eddie gave her a wounded glare that held no real heat while also trying and failing to not stare at Steve standing directly across from him.

“Yeah, stop spreading lies, Birdie,” Steve poked at her bicep with a teasing smile.

And then that smile turned warm, fond, when it was directed at Eddie.

“Sorry about her,” Steve offered lightly, doe eyes peering up at him from under the lashes.

Eddie felt weak in the knees and secretly thanked whatever power above that had granted him a few inches on this pretty boy.

“Nah, it’s okay,” Eddie also smiled and felt his heart thump loudly in his chest as he decided to go with it. “She’s, uh, not wrong about it.”

“Are you admitting that you’re easy now, Munson?” Steve raised an eyebrow, looking amused as he reached for Eddie’s hand and started playing with the rings on it as if it had been one of his habits all along.

Which was true and never failed to make Eddie tongue-tied.

“Just for you,” he blurted out. “I’m only easy just for you.”

It would sound ridiculous if not for the way Steve’s cheeks tinted pink despite his effort at trying to stay nonchalant.

“Just for me, huh?”

Strangely, seeing the younger boy also being affected by the tension between them helped Eddie regain some confidence.

He turned his hand so he could grab Steve’s own and brought it to his lips, pressing soft kisses on the scarred knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m all yours,” he met Steve’s gaze with a dopey smile, “Sweetheart.”

A small part of him noticed that Robin had gone to the back room to give them some semblance of privacy. But a larger part of him had been lost in the beaming smile on Steve’s pretty face.

They stared at each other for a while until Steve finally broke the silence.

“Dinner at mine?”

“I’ll bring the beer and,” Eddie picked up the forgotten VHS case of ‘Risky Business’ and waved it lightly, “something to watch.”

That earned him a chuckle in return.

“It's a date?” Steve tilted his head, wanting to confirm again.

“It’s a date,” Eddie grinned and kissed the back of Steve’s hand.

Later that night, Eddie had turned up with a bouquet of flowers and was rewarded with a heated kiss that almost distracted both of them from Steve’s delicious lasagna.

Once they were done with the dishes and mitigated to the couch, he got a lapful of Steve, sweet and pretty and very eager to give him the best time of his life.

In the end, Eddie finally had a taste of that peachy ass and relived many of his wet dreams by turning Steve speechless and delirious with pleasure.

And if he also declared his love over and over again, then he didn't hear Steve complaining.

Maybe, it was because Steve had been busy doing the same.

[jyoongim]

Hey there! My first time asking/making a request lol, but I had two separate ideas and you can just pick one or something.

First was an alastor w/ fem reader, it's mating season for red and this ones diff bc he's had his eyes on reader or smthn for a min and decides this season he's going to do his best to show off to her, lmao like "look look, I can provide and protect!" a bit intense bc it's mating season, but reader is CLUELESS until at some point it finally clicks and she's all "huh.. ohh SHIT"

Second idea was one that I thought would be funny, like so.. lucifer finds out Al likes reader and even tho he doesn't really like Al he's like " don't worry, I can definitely help with this" but he's lowkey a terrible wingman even tho miraculously it somehow helps in the end???

Again you can choose from either and end it however you want, fluff/nsfw/sfw. Or if none of this is your cup of tea then just ignore me!!

Not me on a fluff binge hehehhehe

hope you guys like it! I’ve been a bit slow to write and upload but I’ve enjoyed reading every request! I’m still taking a slight break but I try to give y’all SOMETHING. Hope y’all don’t mind!!

Lots of love-jyoongim

——————————————————————————————-

Mating season.

Usually an awful time of year that made Alastor more on edge than usual.

But something was different this year…

This mating season, the deer demon wanted a partner….

Alastor had his sights on a pretty doe and he was going to ensure that she was going to be his for the season…

—————————————————————————

You rubbed the sleep out your eyes as you greeted everyone as you took a seat for breakfast.

Pancakes. Bacon. Sausage. Eggs. Fruits.

Your stomach rumbled at the delicious smells.

”Fine hellish day isn’t my dear?” Alastor chirped as he piled food fruits and meats on your plate. You blinked at the amount of food on your plate.

”Al my stomach is only so big” you giggled causing the demon to hum as he took a seat beside you.

”A full belly makes a happy doe” he smiled as you happily ate the food.

Alastor watched as you ate, a soft purr rumbling in his chest.

”Why don’t we go for an outing dear?” Alastor suggested as you let out a burp.

You agreed.

It was rather chilly for Hell.

You and Alastor waltz around the city. You happily looked at the displays in many windows. 

You didn’t know Alastor’s agenda but you didn’t mind accompanying him.

You must have lagged behind him a tad as a demon slithered up beside you as you looked over some jewelry.

”what’s a cute thing like you doing all alone?” A deep voice asked causing you jumped, surprised.

”O-Oh hi um I’m just looking that’s all” you gave a nervous smile. Your skiddish nature took over as you took a step back. The demon advanced on you. He was big, could easily overtake you if need be.

”Why don’t I show you around? I don’t see a ring. I can show you a good time” sharp teeth smiled at you menacingly.

Your ears flattened, you might be  small but you could defend yourself. You bared your teeth at the demon making him chuckle

”Now now little lady lets not get ugly” 

You hadn’t realized he had backed you into a corner.

The demon pounced, making you screech as he pinned you to the wall.

Your ears perked as heavy static buzzed through the air. The demon didn’t seem to notice 

 “You’ll make a fine piece of ass”

Black smoke poured through the alleyway and static popped.

”That’s no way to talk to a lady”

Black tentacles dragged the demon and blood-curdling screams escaped the demon, but were quickly silenced as Alastor ripped him apart.

”mine mine mine” Alastor growled as he chomped on the demon.

You gagged as chunks of flesh flew around.

Satisfied that the distasteful demon was in his belly, Alastor looked towards you.

A large sharp claw traced your face, he was growling but his eyes were soft. He morphed to be a bit smaller and helped you up, his red eyes roaming over you.

”I’m okay Al” you reassured giving him a smile. He seemed to calm down and looped your arm with his.

”dishonorable filfth” he hissed as he made his way back to the hotel. You pouted you really wanted to buy something but you’ve had enough excitement for one day.

You looked at Alastor and tilted your head “Al your antlers”

The usual small antlers were now big and standing tall on top his head.

”Nice rack” you giggled making the red demon smirk, his chest puffing proudly.

”than-thank you for all that. I really appreciate Al” you said sheepishly.

The tall demon hummed 

“Don’t mention it my dear. What kind of man would I be if I couldn’t protect you?”

——————————————————————————

Alastor had been lingering around you since the little accident. He had growled at anyone who got too close to you.

He was very possessive and protective of you, which you thought was sweet that the demon was worried about you.

You groaned as the sun peaked through your window. You sat up and you blinked in confusion.

Flowers, breakfast, and a tiny box.

Rest up little Doe ~Alastor

Your tail wagged in happiness. You don’t know why Alastor had been so attentive but you were eating it up.

You placed the flowers in a vase and began to eat breakfast.

Your face wrinkled as you pulled a piece of meat from your teeth.

what the fuck?

It was soft and fleshy. You shuddered but ate the rest of your breakfast. You opened the tiny box and keened when you saw the bracelet you had been looking at earlier in the week.

There were cute little radio themed charms.

You quickly cleaned up and went downstairs.

Charlie and Vaggie were sitting in the lobby chatting.

You smiled and waved, your bracelet caught Vaggie’s attention.

”Hey where you get that?” The question also caught Charlie’s attention, she immediately began gushing

”Oh my! Did Alastor get that for you? Omg so cute!”

Vaggie deadpanned “Alastor have been very cozy towards you what’s that about?”

You shrugged “I don’t know but it can’t be anything bad right?”

————————————————————————————-

“I see you got my gift” Alastor said, coming behind you as you red on the couch. You smiled “Its really nice Al but why the sudden gift giving?”

Alastor smiled “well my dear its mating season”

You blinked. Mating season? What did that have to do-

OH SHIT!

Your eyes widened “Y-You’ve been…”

His lips pulled into a genuine smile “Courting you? Why of course my dear!”

His hand circled the wrist with the bracelet. He brought it up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it.

Your body shuddered in delight and your ears flicked as he nipped at your fingers.

Your nose wrinkled at the smell of his pheromones, your tail wagging.

You let out a purr as you rubbed yourself against him and took off running, throwing a wink at him as he followed suit, giggling as he made a grab at your hips as you evaded him.

”Come and solidify your place Mr. Radio Demon” you teased slipping into his room.

A soft growl escaped Alastor as he followed you and had his shadow guard the door.

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 4

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 12.5K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut, body image issues

Author's Note: sorry this is being posted almost a month later! i was on a road trip with my friends but I wanted to get this out before my birthday (it's on the 17th eek!!) but I hope you guys like it! as usual, please tell me what you guys think! i'd love to hear your opinions <33 also I'm sorry if this chapter seems kinda boring, but the next one is gonna have some drama!! oooo

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela

previous / masterlist / next

Waking up in an unfamiliar room was jarring, initially. It took you a couple of rounds of rubbing your eyes to realize that you were no longer in your cozy two-bedroom apartment with soft lighting and warm-colored pillows. You awoke to harsh sunlight hitting your face, blank walls, and beige furniture. You leaned back against the light brown headboard of your bed and ran your hands through your messy tangles of hair, having forgone brushing it out the previous night. Glancing at your phone beside you, you noted the time being only a bit past nine.

You needed tea, warm tea. 

You shuffled out of bed, feeling the cold air nip at your bare legs, but you couldn’t find the motivation to change into warm clothing. You tied your hair into a messy ponytail, deciding to attend to it later, and exited your room, facing the cold and unfriendly hallway. There was a faint sound of quiet jazz from the kitchen, likely Mrs. Lim, and you descended the stairs. As you reached the bottom, you groaned internally, lamenting the fact that your favorite teas were still in your apartment. 

Rounding the corner into view of the kitchen had you stopping in your tracks. Yoongi was sat atop one of the counter stools, peacefully scrolling on his phone in the same clothes you’d seen him in last night during your discussion. The unexpected sight had you stumbling backwards, bumping into the large recliner that sat behind you. The sound alerted him to your presence, his eyes turning to find your form. 

“Um, hi,” you stuttered, “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

Yoongi hummed, eyes trailing up and down your figure, mouth upturned. You shifted your weight onto the other foot, feeling uncomfortable, before crossing your arms over your chest. You shouldn’t be this comfortable to walk around braless yet, you internally scolded. 

“Well, it is the weekend,” Yoongi mused, still not taking his eyes off your chilled form. You laughed awkwardly, nodding, “Yeah, I suppose it is, isn’t it? I’ll be right back, actually, I forgot my phone upstairs.”

You didn’t wait to see his response before turning around and rushing back up the stairs. Reaching your room and closing the door behind you, you breathed heavily. What was that? You buried your head in your hands, sliding down the door to sit with your knees pulled to your chest, you should’ve expected him in his own goddamn house. Your cheeks burned at the memory of his eyes tracing your silhouette. How embarrassing. You wallowed in your self-pity a bit longer before rising and entering your large closet. 

You picked out a simple cropped grey sweatshirt and black sweatpants, not finding a need to appear any more formal. You wanted to appear casual after the embarrassing display you started the morning off with. Plus, if Yoongi said this marriage meant nothing, you could walk around his house in loungewear. As long as your mother didn’t find out.

The thick cotton felt much more comfortable and warm, considering the slightly chilly air in the house. Yoongi must like it to be a bit colder, you thought absently. As you finished your morning routine, brushing your teeth and combing through your hair, making sure to pat on some moisturizer and acne treatment, your thoughts wandered back to seeing Yoongi earlier.

The way he had been looking at you was strange, much like Hoseok had mentioned. You weren’t dense, you knew the intention hidden behind a gaze like that, you’d been on the giving and receiving end before. What had you so puzzled was why Yoongi would be looking at you like that. Wasn’t he the one to draw such a clear line between you two? 

Aside from the reason as to why he would be tracing the edges of your curves with his eyes was the effect that it had on you. Frustratingly, Yoongi’s hungry gaze sent warmth through your veins, and excitement pooled in your stomach. It was an embarrassing response, considering how he’d treated you before. At the same time, it felt expected. You had been pining after this man for so long and now he was showing the slightest bit of reciprocation, albeit, with more physical intentions than you. It only felt natural that it would leave you giddy with warm cheeks. It made you happy to think that Yoongi could be seeing you in a similar light.

Your dizzy smile faded as you looked in the mirror at your flushed face. What were you doing? The last eight months had been spent trying to drill into yourself that Yoongi would never like you that way because you couldn’t afford to get your hopes up. Why were you entertaining the idea again after one sultry stare? You felt pathetic, you had folded so easily as you always did when it came to him. 

Smacking your cheeks a couple of times, you readied yourself to head back downstairs. He was just a man, no matter how attractive. Descending the stairs once more, you noticed Yoongi had moved to the couch, leaning back with his coffee on the table next to him, scrolling away on his phone. He hadn’t noticed your reentrance just yet and you awkwardly hovered by the edge of the couch, trying to get his attention. 

Awkwardly clearing your throat did the trick and his gaze turned toward you, an eyebrow raised at your changed appearance. 

“Do you, um, do you have any tea,” you mumbled out, avoiding his intense stare. You heard him hum, likely considering his kitchen inventory, before answering, “Sorry, no, just coffee. Would you like me to order some? There’s also coffee and juice if you want that instead.”

You quickly shook your head at his offer of ordering tea, “That’s fine, I’ll just have some warm water, thanks,” and quickly made your way into the kitchen, reaching the fridge. The metal box was massive, towering over you and quite wide, with a sleek, silver finish. There were no magnets or pictures adorning the exterior, though. Pulling it open, your eyes raked over the full contents, spotting a pitcher of what seemed like orange juice, but no Britta Filter or something of the like. Glancing at the sink, you noticed a second spout seemingly for filtered water. Shrugging, you supposed that Yoongi would be able to afford that and not have to have a water filter jug. 

Next, you hunted for a kettle, which wasn’t too difficult to find, placed in a corner of the countertop. You took it out, setting it on the counter next to an outlet, but soon realized you had no idea where the cups were. The sheer amount of cupboards was overwhelming and you had no idea where to start looking, never mind the embarrassment of rifling through the kitchen in front of Yoongi. 

Opening up cabinets as quietly as possible was not the easiest task when you could so heavily feel Yoongi’s presence in the living room. The anxiety in your chest built as you couldn’t tell whether or not he was watching you struggle to find a single mug. Coming to another cabinet above you, you opened it, spotting a mug or two on the edge of the top shelf portion. Just your luck. You hadn’t spotted a step stool anywhere and you were far too embarrassed already to climb on top of the counter to reach it. Your arm stretched out as you stood on your toes, fingers grasping at the edge of the shelf before you felt warmth envelop your back.

Freezing in place, you quickly identified Yoongi behind you, evidently assisting you in reaching the mugs. He didn’t seem quite tall enough either, you deduced, because he lifted his heels slightly, pushing further into you. Your breath stuttered and you almost had to brace yourself against the counter, you hadn’t really been this close to him before. You could feel his warm breath against the top of your hair, making your nape break out into goosebumps. 

His fingers finally curled around the handle of the mug and he set his feet fully on the ground, but not moving away from you. You turned to face him, steadying your hands by grasping the edge of the countertop and lifted your head to look at him.

“Um, thank you,” you stuttered, unable to make full eye contact, instead opting for looking straight at his ear. He was too close and you couldn’t handle it. His other hand rested on the countertop, just beside yours, and his face was only inches away. How were you supposed to focus? Your gaze only lowered further, making your head turn slightly away. There was a second or two of just silence.

“No problem,” he responded bluntly, moving away and placing the mug down on the other counter that sat in the middle of the kitchen. You let out a heavy breath, finally being able to breathe something in other than Yoongi’s subtle cologne. Resisting the urge to question his sudden close proximity, you instead opted for, “Would you like some as well?

Yoongi only raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the living room where his coffee mug sat waiting. Your mouth clamped shut and you stuttered a nod, “Right, well I’ll just, um, finish doing this.”

God, could you be any more awkward?

Yoongi simply nodded and walked back to the living room, leaving you in the kitchen with warm cheeks and many regrets. You went through the motions of filling the kettle and starting it, waiting for it to boil before pouring it into the mug. The warm water was at least comforting in the chilly atmosphere, despite having no flavor. You stood in the kitchen, unsure of where you should go. Should you join Yoongi in the living room or go back to your room? Or should you stay in the kitchen? Nothing in your life had prepared you for the social expectations in a situation like this.

You decided on your room, not wanting to spend more time in Yoongi’s presence after the embarrassing display in the kitchen. As you made your way to the stairs, walking past Yoongi’s form on the couch, he called out to you.

“Y/N, can you sit for a moment?”

You turned towards him and nervously nodded, taking a seat on the same loveseat as the night prior. It was quite comfortable even though you had been the epitome of uncomfortable each time you’d sat in it so far. You looked up at Yoongi, silently gesturing for him to continue. 

“Some of my friends are coming over tonight, the same that made up my groomsmen. If you don’t mind, are you able to stay in your room?”

“Oh, sure,” you nodded, that was all? You were nervous for nothing. 

“Thanks,” Yoongi almost smiled at you, “They’ll be here around seven.”

“Sounds good,” you said while standing up, you couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. In your rush to get back to your room, you didn’t notice Yoongi’s gaze lingering on your retreating form.

Closing your bedroom door behind you, you breathed a sigh of relief. What a day, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Adjusting to life with Yoongi was definitely going to be a learning curve. 

Since you were off work for the next two weeks, you weren’t exactly sure what to do with your time. You couldn’t exactly relax in the living room and watch a movie, not with your husband occupying the couch. Things certainly felt stifled in Yoongi’s home. His presence was overwhelming and nerve-wracking, you couldn’t relax around him at all. The earlier interaction in the kitchen still weighed on your mind. 

Why did he get so close to you? Wasn’t he the one who proposed that the two of you stay as far apart as possible? Maybe he didn’t see his closeness to you as something that went against that principle. You sighed. It felt impossible to read him or know what he was thinking at all. His impassive expressions and ambivalent demeanor were starting to get to you. 

Even though you’d resolved to take on an emotionally removed approach like him, you still craved some sort of transparency in his confusing actions that stirred mixed emotions within you. Some of the things he was doing would point towards him harboring some sort of affection toward you but he had been so adamant in keeping your lives separated. What you needed was a clear message from him about how he felt and actions that aligned with that. 

Not that you thought that was going to happen. 

After setting your mug down on your bedside table, you collapsed onto the soft comforters of your bed. The ceiling above you was plain unlike the one in your apartment and you found yourself missing the nights of tracing along the popcorn pattern in your warm and comfy bed. Speaking of your apartment though, you thought, you should probably check in on how Hoseok’s doing. 

You patted your hand around for your phone, finding it beside you, and dialed Hoseok’s number, setting it to speaker and letting the phone sit beside your head. It only rang twice before he answered.

“Well, hello Mrs. Min,” came his teasing voice. 

You groaned, kicking your legs up in the air, “Shut up, don’t remind me.”

“Aren’t you living the dream, though? Married to your long-time crush?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, recalling your husband’s cold and calculating exterior.

“Well, what’s up, how’s the first morning? Are you sore,” Hoseok questioned, you could hear him shuffling around, likely lying down on the bed himself. 

“I guess? My calves are kind of sore, those heels fucking hurt after the first hour,” you responded, massaging your aching feet. 

“No,” Hoseok laughed, “Are you sore from your consummation? Tell me how it was!”

“Gross,” you exclaimed, sitting up on the bed incredulously, “We did not have sex! I can barely look at him for fuck’s sake, how am I supposed to sleep with him?”

“That’s your fault for not taking advantage of the situation,” he hummed on the other end, “The opportunity was right there.”

“Dude, c’mon, he can barely stand me. We wouldn’t have been sleeping together even if I could look him in the eye.”

“You’ll get there,” Hoseok chimed optimistically, making you desperately want to change the subject.

“How’s your apartment hunting going,” you asked, grasping at any other topic you could.

“Smooth,” he laughed but acquiesced and answered your question, “Good, I think. I’ve got a couple of showings in a few days that seem promising. Rent here is way more expensive than Busan though.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “Tell me about it. I don’t know how Yoongi affords this place.”

“He probably owns it.”

“Damn, you’re probably right. Should a peasant like me even be allowed in here,” you half-joked.

Hoseok only scoffed in response, “As if you’re not literally the daughter of chaebols.”

You hummed, nodding, “Touche.”

“Oh, I did talk to my old boss and he said there was an old student of his in Seoul who was also looking to open up a dance studio. Apparently, he’s just finishing up his MBA so I’m going to talk to him and see if he wants to become partners,” Hoseok excitedly detailed.

“That’s so cool! I’m sure he’ll say yes,” you responded happily. Hoseok deserved to succeed after how hard he’d worked and if this other guy knew anything, he’d say yes to Hoseok in a heartbeat. 

“How is everything else,” Hoseok asked, prompting you to sigh.

“It’s fine, I guess,” you said tiredly, wondering if you should divulge what had happened during the wedding and this morning.

“Tell me about it,” he said quietly, encouraging you.

“Alright,” you huffed, settling in for the long haul of recounting the previous day and the conversation when you’d gotten to Yoongi’s penthouse. You finished by detailing the events this morning and the fact that his friends were coming over later. 

Hoseok listened diligently, making sure to have the appropriate reactions at the right moments. When you finished retelling the events of that morning, Hoseok laughed, “How cliche. This really feels like your own movie romance.”

You shook your head, laughing along, “I guess it was pretty cliche. Everything feels so cliche with him, like the first time I’m falling in love as a teenager or something. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing to like someone, Y/N,” Hoseok says, changing his tone to be a bit softer, “Having a crush isn’t all that immature, it’s the way you act on it that can be.”

“You’re surprisingly profound,” you joked, but you knew he had a point. You had been beating yourself up about feeling anything for Yoongi and feeling embarrassed whenever you became flustered. It felt childish and you hated feeling so vulnerable and disadvantaged. 

“Well, I have my moments,” Hoseok chuckled, “But seriously, don’t be so hard on yourself. Let yourself feel and then choose how to deal with it. If that means moving on, then do that, slowly. And it’s okay if it means keeping the feelings, as long as you're not hurting yourself or anyone else.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” you smiled, he really did have his moments. 

“Anytime, Y/N-ie,” Hoseok responded fondly, making you smile widen at the affectionate nickname.

“But I do have to go now. I’ve got some calls to make about my old apartment. They’re trying to keep my deposit,” he huffed.

“Yikes, good luck with that, let me know how it goes,” you give him a sweet goodbye before hanging up. The conversation with Hoseok had cleared your head some, leaving you wondering what your next move should be. You promptly decided on a nap. 

After a few hours, you awoke, stretching in your bed, feeling slightly groggy, but well rested. Your head felt clearer than ever and you actually felt ready to live in this penthouse.

Sitting up, you took a look around your room before sighing. The beiges and whites were really starting to get to you. You dragged yourself out of your bed and towards your bag from the previous night. After digging around for a moment, you triumphantly located your laptop and its charger, plugging it into the outlet near your desk. Booting up your laptop only took a few moments but you occupied yourself by making a mental list of the decorations you wanted to purchase or bring from your own apartment. After logging in, you dejectedly realized you weren’t connected to the wifi. 

You should’ve asked Mrs. Lim for the wifi password, you thought scornfully, why had you been so careless. Now you had to ask Yoongi. Your mission of avoiding him at all costs was going poorly.

Reaching for your phone, you opted instead to text him to minimize the interaction, feeling proud of your solution. 

You:

Hi Yoongi-ssi, would you mind giving me the wifi password, please?

You quickly set your phone face down on the desk, dreading the reply. What if he thought you were an idiot? What if he didn’t give it to you and you had to use a hotspot for the rest of your life and spend hundreds on your data charges?

Your spiraling thoughts were interrupted by your phone vibrating against the desk’s surface. 

Yoongi:

Sure. It’s worldwidehandsomesvacationhome. No capitals.

You let out a confused chuckle, what a weird name. You had a nagging feeling that Kim Seokjin had something to do with it. 

You: 

Thank you. Have fun with your friends.

You threw your phone against the desk and launched yourself into your bed. Was that too much? Oh god, what if you had royally messed up and crossed a boundary? You stayed in your bed for a few minutes before rising, noting that your phone hadn’t vibrated with a response. Hesitantly approaching your phone, you turned it over to see a blank screen with no notifications. You checked the message thread to see it the same as you left it except that you had been left on read. 

Well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.

You shrugged and retook your seat at your desk, entering the wifi password on your laptop and phone. Finding a successful connection, you spent the next few hours browsing through online stores for fun decorations and decals for your room and office in the penthouse. The search took your full attention and you bought multiple items, saving a few of the more expensive purchases for other credit cycles. At the end of it all, you’d bought multiple pillows, a throw blanket, some cute decoration trinkets off of Etsy, a couple of cute flower lamps, a comfy-looking lounge chair, and some lilac curtains. Decorating your room in some fun colors and trinkets would make it feel more like home, or at least, that’s what you hoped. 

Sitting on the desk next to your laptop was a small notebook that held a list of the items you planned to purchase, mainly a TV for your room so you could watch movies and use your console, a larger and cuter desk, and a comfier desk chair, as well as transferring a number of other items from your apartment like your plants, books, and other decorations. 

Coming out of your reverie, you noticed that the time had passed quickly, being a little after seven, and your stomach grumbled, reminding you of your forgetting to eat lunch. Cooking in the kitchen wasn’t an option, noting the laughter downstairs likely meaning that Yoongi’s friends had arrived already, and you didn’t know what ingredients were there anyway, or if you were allowed to use them. 

Sighing, you instead decided to order delivery. You browsed through the local restaurants before settling on a fried chicken restaurant that you frequented that had a location close to your apartment and another near Yoongi’s. Selecting your usual order, you almost checked out before realizing that you were about to order it to your apartment. Grinning, you imagined Hoseok opening your door to a crispy chicken delivery and having no second thoughts about eating your food. 

You couldn’t remember Yoongi’s address, so you resorted to looking at your maps app to figure it out, and your previous texts with Mrs. Lim for the internal building directions. A rush of content flowed through you as you placed the order, eagerly awaiting your hearty meal. 

To pass the time, you grabbed your Switch, loading in whatever game you had been playing previously, some indie puzzle game. You settled into the relaxing and cute gameplay and drowned out the noise of Yoongi’s friends further into the penthouse. 

After a while, your phone vibrated with the notification that the delivery was here, and you jumped up, eager to receive your food. Quickly opening your door, you entered the hallway to make your way to the stairs before hesitating. You could hear Kim Seokjin’s signature laugh in the living room. 

Oh, that’s right, Yoongi didn’t want you to come down.

You tittered around the banister, unsure of whether you should go down before you felt your phone buzz with the driver asking where you were. 

Ah, fuck it.

You quickly descended the stairs and tried to discreetly go through the back end of the living room to avoid Yoongi’s group drinking and playing some sort of game on the coffee table. Of course, you were unsuccessful, spotted by Seokjin immediately. 

“Yah, Seo Y/N,” he shouted, pointing at you, clearly quite drunk already.

You froze in place, turning toward him and sending him a shy wave.

“Why are you over there,” Seokjin slurred, “Come join us! You need to drink!”

You began shaking your head before you were interrupted. 

“Noona!”

Jeongguk’s bright voice and wide smile brought a smile to your own face, and you mouthed a small hello in his direction. 

“Come join us, noona, please,” Jeongguk pleaded, shooting lethal doe eyes in your direction. Your heart melted and you almost agreed, but you felt your phone buzz in your pocket again, making you restart your steps toward the door, “Sorry, Jeongguk-ah, I just came down to get my delivery.”

You ignored his and Seokjin’s protests to open the door and pay the driver, leaving an extra tip for the wait they endured, and taking the food. 

“Woah, is that fried chicken,” you heard from over your shoulder, turning to see Jeongguk suddenly there, eyeing your takeout bag. You chuckled, nodding, before beginning your trek back to the stairs. 

“C’mon Y/N-ah, join us, Yoongi doesn’t mind,” Seokjin attempted once more and you took the moment to search out his face. Yoongi was sitting in the loveseat you had earlier, eyes resting on you in an unreadable expression. Taehyung was on the floor where Jeongguk was previously and Namjoon was on the couch with Seokjin. Yoongi’s stern expression seemed out of place among the group of happy and buzzed faces and it only made you feel worse. 

“Sorry, oppa, I think I’m just gonna head up. I’m kind of tired,” you responded, shying away from Jeongguk’s insistent touch and multiple attempts to snag a piece of chicken. 

“You’re so boring, Y/N, you’ll need to join us soon enough, so why not now,” Seokjin slurred, body swinging to lean on the other end of the couch. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Yoongi open his mouth to say something but was beaten by Namjoon. 

“Let her be, hyung, you can’t force her,” Namjoon smacked Seokjin’s shoulder before sending you a kind smile and gesturing towards the stairs. 

You shot him a grateful smile before ascending, deliberately avoiding Yoongi’s icy stare. Seokjin’s cries faded into the background as you quickly climbed the stairs and reached your room. 

Closing the door behind you, a sigh escaped your mouth. How stressful. You hoped that Yoongi wasn’t upset with you for interrupting, you were just quite hungry. You set the bag down on your desk, mouth salivating at the pleasant aroma. You could almost say the intense encounter was worth the heavenly bite of fried chicken you took. 

The next week went by rather smoothly, mainly because you had barely seen Yoongi at all. He hadn’t come out of his room much the following day after his friends had come and then resumed work afterward with the week starting up once more. You relished the opportunity to set up your room and office in a style more akin to yours and filled the rooms with plants and flowers you adored. 

Mrs. Lim had been happy to help you set up your rooms, citing boredom from the countless greys and blacks that Yoongi’s decor tended to lean towards. You had developed a close bond with her in the week since your arrival in the penthouse and she was a comforting presence in the face of Yoongi’s frosty exterior. 

“Ms. Seo, I think your TV is here!”

You sat up from the intense building of your desk, wiping a line of sweat from your forehead. All of the moving around and lifting had you quite warm and you had changed into a loose crop top and shorts. While the work wasn’t necessarily difficult, it was tedious to do alone but you didn’t have much of a choice. You couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim with her bad back to crouch and bend to help you put it together, Joohee was going out to a work dinner with her colleagues, and Hoseok was off to another apartment showing. Unfortunately, you couldn’t figure out anyone else you could call on a Friday evening to help. 

“Coming,” you shouted down to Mrs. Lim and rose to your feet, having to lean slightly against the wall. You took a glance at the TV stand you had already snagged second-hand from Joohee after she had decided to mount hers and confirmed it was in the spot you wanted. Heading down the stairs to the living room, you noted Mrs. Lim’s conflicted stance, hands on her hips. 

“What’s wrong,” you questioned, rounding the corner of the couch to see the large box the TV had arrived in. The box was quite large and seemed to be rather heavy, which would make it extremely difficult to carry up the stairs by yourself. Immediately, you knew this was going to be an issue because you couldn’t ask Mrs. Lim for help. You’d managed thus far, with your desk arriving in multiple boxes that were more lightweight, your chair being fairly easy to drag up the stairs, and Joohee helping with the TV stand. Crossing your arms, you studied the box before wrapping your hands underneath to test the weight. 

It lifted slightly, but you soon had to release it, the edge slipping from your fingers. There was no way you’d be able to get this up on your own. 

“Don’t try it by yourself, dear,” Mrs. Lim soothed, “You’ll hurt your back and end up just like me.”

You chuckled, brushing the hair out of your face once again, “Yeah, at least one of us needs to be able to reach the bottom shelf in the kitchen.”

Mrs. Lim playfully smacked your shoulder, “What happened to respecting your elders? You’re quite warm though, would you like some cold water?”

You nodded appreciatively, “Yes, please. Thank you!”

Mrs. Lim waved you off as she walked into the kitchen. Turning towards the box, you huffed, staring it down. What should you do?

Suddenly, you heard the door unlock and it popped open, hitting the box in the process, stopping it from opening fully. 

“Mrs. Lim,” came Yoongi’s voice, “Is there something in the doorway?”

“Oh, my bad,” you exclaimed, quickly bending to push the box out of the way. After you’d pushed it aside, you stood to greet Yoongi. 

He was running a hand through his hair, staring at the box before his eyes trailed to you and up your legs to your face. You felt your cheeks heat before sending him a small bow and nod. 

“What’s all this,” he questioned.

“I’m just getting some stuff for my room, sorry for all the trouble,” you wrung your hands together nervously.

Yoongi shook his head and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Mrs. Lim arriving with your water,  “Oh, Mr. Min, you’re home!” Handing you the glass, she continued, “Ms. Seo was just trying to figure out how to bring this box up to her room. It’s much too big for just her to handle and I can’t help because of my back. So unfortunate, isn’t it?”

You cringed internally, taking a sip of water to give yourself something to do. Yoongi only nodded, looking at you once more before moving out of the doorway. He started towards the stairs, leaving you breathing out in relief and gulping down more water. 

Just as he began climbing the steps to his room, he turned and faced your form, “Give me a couple minutes to change and I can help you bring that to your room.”

You almost choked on your water as you stumbled through a nod, surprised at Yoongi’s offer to help. He didn’t spare you another glance as he retreated to his room and you were left standing cluelessly as Mrs. Lim sent you a sly smile. 

“Well, I’ll just leave you to it. Your dinner is already prepped, there’s japchae and banchan to cool you down. It’s just about time for me to head home anyway,” Mrs. Lim said, clapping her hands together and starting to untie her apron. 

You pounced, stopping her hands from undoing the knot, “Mrs. Lim, maybe you can join us for dinner?” You were desperate in your attempt to not be left alone with Yoongi, looking up at Mrs. Lim with pleading eyes. 

She only chuckled, gently removing your hands and finishing releasing the knot, her apron falling loose around her front, “Use this as an opportunity to get to know him better. I promise Mr. Min is a nice, young man.”

You almost scoffed, everyone seemed to be trying to convince you of that except for Yoongi himself. 

Mrs. Lim put her apron away and gave your cheek a gentle pinch before opening the door, “Besides, I have a dinner date with Mr. Lim. Good luck!” She closed the door behind her and you were left wondering how to navigate the upcoming interaction. Yoongi didn’t give you much time to prepare, appearing at the top of the stairs only seconds after Mrs. Lim’s exit. He was now dressed in a casual grey t-shirt and black sweats, posing a stunning contrast to his earlier neat and tailored suit. 

“Where did Mrs. Lim go,” he asked, starting his descent to the living room. 

“Um, she left to go home. She said there was dinner already prepped and she had to have dinner with her husband,” you answered awkwardly, avoiding his intense gaze. 

Yoongi simply nodded, “That’s fine. Shall we get started, then?”

You nodded, rushing to one end of the box as Yoongi took his place at the other. 

“I’ll walk backward, so just let me know when I’ve gotten to the stairs,” he said, making you nod in response, finding it difficult to speak. You both lifted, the box becoming much easier to carry with two pairs of hands. 

You kept your gaze firmly trained on the view behind Yoongi, refusing to make eye contact. You were nervous it’d make your grip slip. Warning Yoongi when you had reached the stairs, the rest of the trip had been fairly easy, quietly giving him directions to your room. Thankfully, your door was open and the two of you entered, setting the box down and breathing slightly heavily. 

You looked up to express your gratitude to Yoongi but found him looking around your room instead. You supposed it would be his first time in here since you’d arrived. It had changed quite drastically since you had moved in, sporting much more color and silly accessories. Your bed now had a lilac comforter and a white throw blanket, along with multiple cute, fuzzy throw pillows in fun shapes like clouds or mushrooms. The lounge chair had been set up in the corner with a few other pillows and Pokemon plushes you already had. The lilac curtains you ordered had already been set up, currently open to let some light into the room. A few of your favorite tote bags sat hanging on a hook you’d stuck on by the entrance and there were small crocheted and artsy trinkets plastered or hung around the room. Taking a look around it now, for the first time, your aesthetic felt silly and childish in comparison to Yoongi’s sleek, grown-up look. 

“Um,” you started, wanting to take Yoongi’s gaze off of your colorful and immature decorations, “Thank you for, ah, helping out.” 

Yoongi’s head turned toward you, finding your worried face, biting your lip.

“No problem,” he responded, “I like your room.”

You looked up at him questioningly, not expecting such a response. You had assumed he would think of it as childish and express his distaste, or just ignore it altogether. 

“It’s cute.”

You felt your lips part in surprise at his seemingly earnest reaction to your newly decorated room. It made you feel a bit guilty for assuming he wouldn’t like it before. Furthermore, describing it as ‘cute’ seemed so unlike him. You weren’t sure how to respond. Smiling awkwardly, you nodded, “Thanks, I’m glad you like it.”

You’re glad he likes it? What kind of response is that? You groaned internally, now it seemed like you were pining for his validation. Why couldn’t the ground just swallow you whole?

Yoongi hummed in response before dusting off his hands on his sweats, “Would you like to have dinner then?”

You looked at him in slight shock. The two of you hadn’t had a meal together since you’d moved in, yet here he was offering as if it was a normal occurrence for you. 

“Unless you’re eating later,” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised at your delayed response. 

Quickly, you shook your head, “No, no. I’d love to have dinner now.”

Way to sound over-eager.

The both of you made your way downstairs, unpacking the meal that Mrs. Lim had prepared for you. The cold noodles felt soothing to your overheating body and Mrs. Lim’s kimchi was the perfect balance of fresh and sour. She had even made cucumber kimchi, one of your favorites as she’d learned in the past week, which you happily devoured. While the food was delicious, the atmosphere surrounding the dinner table was awkward. The meal was largely silent, save for the sounds of eating and happy tummies. Distantly, you wondered which of the two of you was going to be the one to break the silence. Surprisingly, it turned out to be Yoongi. 

“Were you told about the gala tomorrow evening?”

You nodded, your mother had called you a few days ago to notify you of it. That hadn’t been a fun phone call. She’d made sure to tell you exactly what she expected you to wear and how to act around Yoongi during the gala. You were just relieved that it started at eight, there was an art gallery that you had been wanting to check out that opened at three. 

“We’ll go together, we’ll leave at 7:45, does that sound good,” Yoongi asked, glancing at his phone between bites of japchae. You only nodded, trying to map out your schedule for the next day so that you could go to the art gallery and still have enough time to get ready. 

“Alright then, that’s settled,” Yoongi stated, taking his last bites of food. 

“Oh, wait,” you interjected, remembering your conversation with your mother, “Do you have a dark blue tie?”

Yoongi’s eyebrow raised, “Yes, I believe so. Why?”

Your cheeks heated, “My mother wanted your tie to match my dress. Sorry.” It was quite embarrassing and your mother had not listened to reason. Apparently, she wanted to solidify the image of you two as a couple at this gala, despite the fact that the only people who matched dresses and ties were high school kids going to dances. 

Yoongi nodded, picking up his phone and rising from the table, “That’s fine. I’ll be sure to wear that tie then.” With that, he exited the dining room and headed upstairs, with you catching a glimpse of him entering his upstairs office.

Sitting back in your chair, you groaned audibly. Could you get through a single day without making yourself look like a fool in front of Yoongi? You flailed slightly in a mini tantrum at the day’s events before gazing at your plate. Opting for more food, you shoveled it into your mouth in an attempt to soothe your aching ego. After finishing admittedly more than a couple of servings worth, you gathered both yours and Yoongi’s plates and put them in the dishwasher. You filled up your water bottle before climbing the stairs to your room. 

You wanted nothing more than to collapse in your bed but your unfinished desk lying in pieces on the floor was weighing on you, in addition to the large TV box that sat inconveniently in the middle of your room. Sighing, you dropped down into a cross-legged position beside the mess of wooden planks and screws and continued putting together the desk, not looking forward to the long night ahead. 

At least you had the gallery tomorrow to look forward to.

When you awoke the next morning, it was just past eleven. The bedsheets were crumpled around you and your hair was a tangled mess, but your desk and TV were set up prettily. You must’ve worked late into the night because you didn’t remember getting into bed, much less finishing the desk or setting up the TV. You still had to attach your console and Blu-ray player anyway. 

Blearily, you pulled yourself out of bed, stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Your eyes were barely open so you didn’t notice the way your cropped shirt had slipped down your shoulder with its wide neck, nor Yoongi sitting on the couch with a coffee mug in his hand. You squinted through the cupboard to find your favorite mug and picked it out, grabbing the lavender-infused tea that was a regular of yours before setting the kettle to boil. As you waited for the water to boil, you rubbed your eyes awake, finally noticing Yoongi staring at you from the couch. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you bowed slightly, “I didn’t see you there. Good morning.”

Yoongi only nodded, raising his coffee mug to you before returning his gaze to his phone. You were still too tired to feel much embarrassment so you only shrugged and turned back to the kettle. Surprisingly, Yoongi wasn’t done interacting with you, startling you to face him. 

“Do you have any plans for before the gala?”

“Yes, I’m going to an art show nearby. But I’ll be back in time to get ready,” you rushed to answer. 

Yoongi took a sip of his coffee, his eyebrows raised and eyes staring into you from behind the rim of the cup. 

“Oh, sorry, I would ask you to come along but it’s a ticketed event and they’re sold out,” you stuttered, figuring that was why he was still looking at you questioningly. 

Yoongi set his mug down, eyes flickering over your form, “I wasn’t planning on going anyway.”

“Ah, right,” you awkwardly said, internally scolding yourself for the embarrassing display. 

Of course, he wasn’t asking to go with you, how dense could you be?

Your body felt hot with humiliation and you willed the water to boil faster. Somehow, the gods answered you and the kettle went off, making you rush to pour out the water into your mug. You opted to let it steep in your room, ready to get out of the shared space where Yoongi’s judgemental gaze lay. 

Nodding a quick goodbye, you rushed up the steps and entered the oasis of your room. You set down your mug on your desk, letting it steep, and entered your closet to pick out an outfit for the gallery. You ended up choosing a short, brown, corduroy dress to layer over a collared white blouse, feeling quite cute in the outfit. You set the clothes aside, sitting down to drink your tea while reading a bit more of the fantasy book you’d recently picked up. You had made sure to note down your wide collection of books to be part of the things you brought from your apartment. You hadn’t managed to fit everything, but you had brought a significant portion of your favorites and ones you were currently reading. 

Once you finished your tea, you set your book aside and began to ready yourself for a shower. After brushing through your hair and grabbing some undergarments, you entered the shower, making sure to take your time and shave for both your dress now and later tonight. The shower was warm and soothing, relaxing your body underneath the steaming stream of water. 

After exiting, you did your normal post-shower routine of moisturizing, making sure to add a little extra care to your face. Not for any reason, in particular, you told yourself, just to feel a little pretty. After finishing, you donned your dress and blouse, adding shorts underneath just in case, and began styling your hair. It didn’t need too much as you decided to leave it open, parting it slightly to one side and ruffling it a bit to give it some volume. You finished off with some light makeup and simple gold jewelry, satisfied with your final look. You didn’t get dressed up too often, but you liked doing it for events like galleries, partly for the pictures but mostly just to feel cute. 

You snapped a quick picture of your finished look in the mirror in your closet and sent it to the group chat you had with Joohee and Hoseok. 

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

You:

image attached

art gallery fit 💪

Hoebi:

you look like my wife

*future wife

Joo-nie:

omgg step on me queen

so when are you attending the met gala 🤨

You:

omfg it’s just a dress you guys

also i better see you at the gala tonight joo

bring hobi as your date

Joo-nie:

ew no

you can bring him as yours tho

You:

i have a literal husband who’s my date

Hoebi:

girls girls, don’t fight there’s enough hobi to go around

Joo-nie:

die

You:

nevermind, you can stay home

Hoebi:

you guys are so mean 😭

i was planning on touring a potential studio space anyway so go have fun being rich

Joo-nie:

omg good luck! let us know how it goes!

You:

yes def do

i’ll see you tonight joo

Glancing at your watch, you noted the time being around 2:30. It gave you enough time to stop by a cafe by the art gallery to grab a snack since you hadn’t eaten yet. You opted for your crocheted tote bag, not really caring about it making the look more casual, and stuffed your phone, wallet, and a small water bottle inside. You were planning on walking to the gallery so you didn’t need to bring your keys. Lastly, you pulled on some socks and headed downstairs. 

Yoongi was still sitting on the couch and you felt his eyes follow your form walking to the door. As you slipped on your shoes, he called out to you, “Going to the gallery?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Yoongi nodded in response, still looking at you, “You, uh,”

You stood fully, finished with your shoes, and looked at him to continue.

“See you then,” he finished, leaving you slightly confused at his odd demeanor but smiling politely nonetheless. Just as you opened the door and began to exit, you heard his voice once more. 

“Have fun.”

You turned to face him, sending him a genuine smile, “Thanks, I will! See you tonight.”

With that, you closed the door behind you and headed to the small cafe near the gallery. The walk was pleasant with warm weather that wasn’t too hot and a slight breeze to cool you. Soon, you reached the cafe, a cute and quaint spot that had been around for around ten years at that point. You visited often with Joohee on Saturday afternoons when the two of you had plans later in the day. 

You opened the door, it jingling in response to your arrival, and the employee at the counter looked up. The one working that morning was Daehwa, a college student who had been working there for a couple of years now. He knew your order well and often engaged you in conversation if the cafe was empty. There was a bit of a crowd today so he quickly entered your order without you having to say anything, and began making it while you waited off to the side. Once he presented you with your iced tea and croissant with a wink, you sent him a grateful smile, and quickly tore through the croissant, noting the time getting closer to three. 

You finished your snack in record time and quickly stood, clearing away your space and waving a quick goodbye to Daehwa, who sent you a grin in response. The gallery was just across the street and had a small line outside, which you quickly joined. You sipped the last of your tea, looking around for a trashcan near you so you didn’t have to bring it inside the gallery, but only saw one close to the entrance which meant you’d lose your spot in line. The idea made you frown and you considered keeping the empty cup in your bag until you moved forward in the line. 

“Seo Y/N?”

You turned at the mention of your name to find Kim Namjoon standing behind you in a light brown sweater and collared white shirt underneath, with a darker brown corduroy blazer and khakis. He had round, wiry glasses on and wore a stunning smile that showed off his deep dimples. 

“Oh, Namjoon-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be attending this as well,” you said, smiling and bowing politely. 

“Yeah, I’ve been following this artist for a while now and saw a couple of months ago that they were doing an exhibition. Do you like Cha Heewon too,” he asked, putting his hands into his pockets. His kind gaze on you and sweet smile made your cheeks feel warm as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah, I’ve been following them for a few years now so I was really excited when I saw the location for this show. I was lucky to get tickets, they sold out so fast!”

“I know, right? I was basically refreshing the page the day they opened up trying to be the first one in,” Namjoon chuckled and his baritone voice reverberated through your bones, almost making you sigh. 

“Yeah, but at least we’re here now,” you smiled, about to turn back around. 

“Would you, uh, like to walk around the exhibit together,” Namjoon asked, scratching the back of his head. 

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this would be crossing a line with Yoongi, but you steeled yourself. He wasn’t allowed to dictate who you became friends with. You clearly bumped into Namjooon by coincidence and have a shared interest, so why wouldn’t you two walk around together? 

“I’d love to,” you responded, feeling proud of your steadfastness in not letting Yoongi mandate your choices or social interactions. 

Namjoon smiled widely in response, nodding, “Great, none of the other guys want to come with me to these kinds of things. Sometimes, Tae does but he’s super flaky.”

You chuckled, “Same here, Joo always complains about how boring it is and Hobi wasn’t even here, but he wouldn’t enjoy it either.”

“Hobi, that’s Hoseok, right? The one who worked in Busan,” Namjoon recalled, scratching his chin. 

“Yes,” you nodded, “He’s planning on moving back here so he’s all busy trying to get that sorted.”

“Well, maybe we can go to these things together in the future,” Namjoon proposed, smiling down at you. 

You felt your cheeks heat, being around handsome men wasn’t good for your health. You looked up at Namjoon, smiling in response, “I’d really like that, Namjoon-ssi.”

Namjoon cringed, his mouth turning up into a frown, “You can drop the formality, we’re the same age, right?”

You nodded, laughing slightly, “I guess I’m just used to it. I’d really like that, Namjoon-ah,” you emphasized. Namjoon chuckled, turning away for a moment. You could’ve sworn you saw his ears go pink at the edge. 

The line moved forward fairly quickly and the two of you were soon inside the exhibit, with you throwing away your cup at the entrance. Namjoon gave thoughtful commentary on each painting you stopped at, with you providing your thoughts as well. You found yourself quickly becoming comfortable in his presence and the two of you were soon joking around and making very pleasant conversation. 

At one point, an older woman stopped the two of you, stating, “You’re such a cute couple, I love your matching outfits. I hope you’re having a fun date!”

The woman walked off before you or Namjoon could correct her, so you ended up trying to laugh off the encounter. Her words made your cheeks burn and you worried that it had offended Namjoon, especially considering that Yoongi was his friend. If it bothered Namjoon, he didn’t show it, instead carrying on like nothing had happened.

Namjoon’s company was quite enjoyable and you relaxed into his smooth voice, feeling yourself becoming less and less stiff. The conversation flowed easily and you both bonded over your love for art, with Namjoon mentioning other artists that you noted down to look up later. He seemed much more experienced in this area than you and you found yourself enraptured by his explanations and passionate rants. 

A couple of hours passed and the two of you exited, with Namjoon insisting on walking you to Yoongi’s building. Your conversation from inside the gallery continued as you walked, and you found yourself not wanting to return to Yoongi’s apartment in favor of Namjoon’s calming presence. 

“I noticed you weren’t wearing your ring,” Namjoon mentioned, making you stumble in your step. 

You glanced down at your hand before scratching the back of your head embarrassedly, “Yeah, I guess I’m still getting used to it. It’s kind of weird, being married that is.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Namjoon smiled reassuringly, “I’m sure Yoongi hasn’t been the most receptive either.”

“Understatement of the year,” you laughed, a tinge of annoyance present in your tone, “He’s so hard to read.”

“He’s like that with most people. He takes some time to open up. I promise he’s a really great guy once you get to know him, he’s just a bit uncomfortable in the situation. He’ll warm up to you, eventually,” Namjoon said, patting your shoulder. 

“Eventually,” you repeated, twisting your hand around your ring finger. You should really put it on.

You had reached Yoongi’s building at this point and had stopped just outside the doors. Namjoon must’ve noticed your solemn mood because he added one last thing before leaving, “You know, as much as Yoongi’s dragged his feet throughout this whole marriage process, I haven’t seen him without his ring once since the wedding.”

You looked up at Namjoon, lips slightly parted at the surprising statement. Namjoon only winked before turning around, “I’ll see you at the gala tonight, Y/N.”

Nodding mutely, you waved, before entering into the building and taking the elevator up to Yoongi’s floor. You weren’t really sure what to make of Namjoon’s words. 

Adding the final touches to your look felt simple enough, you’d dressed for these types of galas before. The dark blue satin dress felt nice against your skin and the cowl neck flattered your bodice and neckline. You chose a thin necklace that dipped into your cleavage with matching earrings, deciding to keep your hair down to avoid having to style it. After donning your “rich people” watch, as Hoseok had dubbed it due to its stark contrast to your usual digital watch, you felt that your look was complete. Taking one last look in your mirror, you scrutinized yourself, trying to find anything that would make you seem undeserving of Yoongi. 

It wasn’t a train of thought you were comfortable with, but your mother had made sure to emphasize its importance. You needed to look like someone worthy of being at Yoongi’s side. You certainly didn’t feel like it, but your mother didn’t really care about that. Just like in everything else, the outward appearance and how you were perceived by others took the utmost importance. 

Your reflection stared back at you, solemn and lonely. You had tried to hide your tiredness with makeup, but you still felt that you could see the exhaustion in your face. You felt drained. 

Everything was tiring. 

You didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity, though. After tapping your cheeks lightly to give yourself some encouragement, you headed for your door. You were just about to open it, catching a glimpse of your hand encasing the doorknob, feeling that your finger looked empty. 

You considered for a moment whether you should really display your relationship or not, but Namjoon’s words circled inside your head. Shaking them off, you turned around, grabbing your wedding band off your desk, and slipping it on. You did say that you should wear it more regularly, you told yourself. 

You headed down the stairs, catching sight of Yoongi in his regular suit with a dark blue tie that was similar enough to the shade of your dress. He looked stunning with his dark hair combed back and suit fitted to his slender waist. Your eyes trailed up his form, appreciating his full visual before reaching his face, who was looking at you with wide eyes. 

Suddenly, you felt embarrassed, maybe you had tried a bit too hard. A nauseous feeling began building up in your stomach as you descended the staircase, feeling heavily self-conscious of your appearance. Did you try too hard? Not enough? Did you look ridiculous? You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to mess up your lipstick, maybe you should’ve tried for a different dress. The sickly feeling grew as you approached Yoongi at the door, avoiding making eye contact. You didn’t have time to change now, but you sure wished that you had a large coat to cover yourself. 

You really didn’t want to go to this gala.

As you finished slipping on your heels, clutching at your stomach to push away the ill sensation, you stood fully, facing the door. Yoongi hesitated for a moment in front of you before opening it and leading you to the elevator. The ride down to the garage was silent, save for Yoongi shifting about in his suit. You wondered if he was as uncomfortable as you, but quickly pushed the thought away. He had no reason to be uncomfortable.

The drive over to the banquet hall was equally silent, with the only words being exchanged between Yoongi and the driver who was waiting in the garage. Your fingers were constantly picking at invisible seams in your lap and your eyes stayed trained on the window beside you, trying your hardest not to think about Yoongi on your other side. 

He hadn’t said anything to you since you left the house, but you swore you could feel his eyes on you, which only made you more anxious. You had to continuously wipe your palms against the leather seats of the car and your dress to wipe off the sweat and his stare dug into you every time. Every few minutes or so, you’d consider trying to strike up conversation with him before thinking better of it, not wanting to face a judgemental or disgusted expression if he wore it. 

After what felt like forever, you finally arrived at the building the gala was being held at, the driver politely informing you that he would be back to pick you up at your request. Yoongi exited first due to you having to adjust your dress so you could exit gracefully, and he surprised you by opening your door and offering his hand for extra balance. 

The action made your cheeks heat before you remembered that you were in a public place now and he had to act the part of your husband. Reality crashed down on you, washing over you in a wave of bleakness, but you plastered on a submissive smile all the same. You took his hand, exiting the car, noticing Yoongi staring at your finger. You were about to question him before his gaze turned to you and his mouth formed a small smile. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, quietly, much too quiet for anyone around you to hear. The words sent warmth straight to your face and leave you stuttering out a ‘thank you’. Yoongi didn’t release your hand as you walked into the banquet hall, nodding your greetings at the guests you see first. Your mother spotted you immediately and waved you over, with you and Yoongi obediently following. 

“Good to see you could make it,” your mother said curtly, surveying your outfit. She only turned away afterwards, so you took that as your approval and discreetly tugged on Yoongi’s hand so you could move on. He got the hint, thankfully, and led you through the other standard greetings and pleasantries that were involved in events like these. 

The questions were repetitive, to say the least. 

“How are you two doing as a newly wedded couple?”

“How’s the business, Yoongi?”

“When are you two thinking of having kids?”

“Are you still working for that game company?”

It was exhausting, but Yoongi’s warm hand grasping your own grounded you. After about an hour, you’d made the rounds throughout the hall and Yoongi still hadn’t let go of you. But you weren’t complaining. A few times, you were offered champagne by a passing server, but you refused each time. Yoongi’s musky cologne was intoxicating enough. 

Finally, you reached a point where you could relax, no longer having any old men or women to dish out backhanded compliments and you having to awkwardly laugh through them. Yoongi seemed to also feel the tension release, noticing his shoulders sag slightly and a deep breath exhale from his lips. He released your hand, making you frown, feeling like your palm was empty now, but you couldn’t protest aloud. 

You figured that was the end of Yoongi’s image maintenance regarding your matrimony but his hand slid down the open back of your dress, erecting goosebumps in its wake. His fingers rested at the small of your back, gently guiding you to the group where Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon and Joohee stood talking. It rendered you speechless and you opted for silently following, with your brain working overtime to understand what was going on. 

You arrived at the group, Joohee immediately sending a look regarding the placement of Yoongi’s hands, but you were unable to respond, still too flustered by the warm of his skin against your back. You bowed mutely in greeting to the rest of the people there, smiling at Namjoon who returned it widely. 

“Where’s Yeonhee noona,” Yoongi asked, the mention of Seokjin’s wife pulling you into the conversation. 

“She’s at home with Hwannie,” Seokjin responded, smiling brightly at the mention of his wife and son. Yeonhee had given birth a few months ago to a beautiful baby boy, Hwansoo, and Seokjin hadn’t really shut up about him since. You’d seen Yeonhee at your wedding and she’d looked equally as elated, practically glowing. “I wanted to stay back too, but she mentioned something about wanting me out of the house for quality time with Hwannie,” Seokjin finished, earning a laugh from the group. 

Joohee was trying to silently communicate with you, asking whatever she could through shifts in her eyes and small head movements about your close proximity to Yoongi, but you had no answers. You hadn’t been expecting it either, Yoongi had taken the initiative to make physical contact. You could tell she was getting frustrated with your continued subtle shrugs before she looked behind you and cringed. 

“Great, mom wants me to go over there, probably for another marriage talk,” Joohee groaned, inching behind her brother to avoid her mother’s piercing gaze, “I think that’s Lee Hyunsoo, too! Gross! He’s an ass.”

You frowned at the mention of Hyunsoo, a common figure among those who belittled you in your youth at parties just like these. You felt Yoongi shift beside you before speaking, “Yeah, he is an ass, he kept making weird comments to me throughout the reception last week. Good luck with that.”

Yoongi’s comment only made you frown further. You hadn’t really noticed Hyunsoo during your reception, much less him talking to Yoongi. You couldn’t think on it for long, though, having to wave a solemn goodbye to Joohee who began her trek over to her beckoning mother. Yoongi continued his conversation with Seokjin, talking about some sort of business thing happening, nothing you cared too much about, and you were left staring blankly around you. 

“You look really pretty,” Namjoon said, drawing your attention, making you blush pink at his words. 

“Thanks, so do you, Namjoon-ah,” you teased in response, making him grin and show off his deep dimples. You instantly relaxed in his comforting presence, but you were still aware of Yoongi’s burning palm against your skin. 

“Oh, I meant to mention earlier today, you said you like plants, right? There’s this great plant shop in Samcheong-Dong that you should check out,” Namjoon began excitedly, making you recall your earlier conversation in which you had mentioned your plants at your apartment in passing. 

“We should totally check it out! I’m always down to get more plants, although I probably shouldn’t,” you joked, letting yourself ease into the easy conversation. 

“You can never have enough, or at least, that’s what I tell myself,” Namjoon chuckled, “There’s also another show next month for one of my favorite artists. Do you think you’d be up to check it out?”

You nodded, “Yeah, of course, I’d love to. Just send me the details.”

“I don’t think I actually got your number earlier,” Namjoon mentioned, scratching the back of his head and outstretching his hand holding his phone. 

“Oh, right, that would probably help,” you smiled, taking it and entering your number. You handed it back to him, smiling, but noticed the troubled expression on his fact, looking just beside you. 

Yoongi had stiffened next to you and you had been so absorbed in your conversation with Namjoon that you hadn’t noticed, or noticed the fact that Seokjin was gone now, talking to some other old businessman at another table. 

“Have you two gotten close,” Yoongi asked, though he didn’t really sound like he was looking for an answer, with gritted teeth and his hand pushing into your back. 

“Oh, um, we met at the art show earlier,” you said, looking at Namjoon to continue your thought. 

“Ah, yeah, we ended up walking around together and we became friends,” Namjoon laughed, though it seemed a little stilted, “Your wife’s really nice, hyung.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi said curtly, before releasing you and stepping away, “I have to go speak to a couple other people. Could you keep an eye on her, Namjoon?”

The question made you gawk, feeling anger rise from your trembling fingers. You didn’t need someone to keep an eye on you, you were a grown woman, for God’s sake. You moved to retort Yoongi’s absurd request but he was already walking away. What even was that? Why was he being so weird? Maybe his niceness earlier was just a fluke. Turning to Namjoon in a huff, you took in his sheepish smile. 

“I don’t really think you need babysitting, but I would like to talk more,” he offered kindly, making you release a breath and smile in return. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” you agreed, following him to a nearby table where you spent the rest of the evening. The conversation was pleasant, almost making you forget Yoongi’s odd behavior, but your anger for him had only simmered. He had no right to act like you weren’t your own agent, no right to treat you like a child. His earlier pleasant interactions with you and electric contact against your back left you even more confused, only adding to your anger. His moodswings were beginning to give you whiplash. 

You tried your best to focus in on your conversation with Namjoon for the rest of the night but you found your gaze drifting back to Yoongi. He was speaking with other men your father’s age, shaking hands and exchanging practiced polite smiles. He looked tired. 

But what did you care? You shouldn’t care, he had been so rude earlier, but you knew you couldn’t help it. Maybe you’d ask Mrs. Lim to make his favorite meal on Monday when she came back. 

The rest of the evening carried on uneventfully, with you and Namjoon making countless plans for shopping outings and art shows galore. He’d even managed to score tickets to an evening historical art museum tour, something you’d been wanting to attend for a while. Eventually, he had to leave, though, citing an early morning the next day, and hugged you goodbye. As he was doing so, he whispered in your ear, “I saw you put on the ring, I’m glad.” 

His hot breath on your ear made your brain stutter but you mumbled out an acknowledgement, and he soon released you, waving goodbye as he walked toward the exit. The rest of the attendees were beginning to leave too, signalling the beginning of the end of the night. You sat glumly at your table, noting that Joohee had already left, having had a quiet argument with her mother that caused her to storm out. 

You brought out your phone, making sure to message her asking if she was alright. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you looked up to see Yoongi staring down on you with an impassive expression.

“Are you ready to go?”

You neglected to respond, still feeling upset with his earlier words, and simply stood, waiting to be led to the car. Yoongi obliged, not flinching at your cold demeanor, and you both soon entered the car, riding home in silence. 

During the drive home, your mind swirled with all sorts of questions regarding Yoongi’s behavior. His actions would likely point to jealousy surrounding Namjoon, but how did that make any sense? How could Yoongi harbor affection for you if he barely knew you? Especially if he seemed so opposed to the idea as well. 

You like Yoongi even though you barely know him.

Your mouth upturned at the unwelcome thought. That wasn’t a fair comparison, you didn’t outwardly show any jealousy toward Yoongi’s other conquests. And there wasn’t even anything between you and Namjoon to begin with. 

Well, mostly. You couldn’t deny the excitement you had when you saw him in the hall or the way you enjoyed speaking with him about everything and nothing throughout the art show and gala. But you weren’t going to think about that too hard right now. 

The only logical conclusion you could draw was that your close friendship with Namjoon made him uncomfortable. He did say that he didn’t want you to mix personal lives at all. You almost empathized with that before remembering his condescending words earlier that evening, making anger surge through your blood once more. 

Well, Yoongi could suck it. He didn’t get to dictate who you became friends with and he didn’t have any claim over his own friends, making them off-limits. You weren’t responsible for dealing with his childish feelings and immature attitude. That was all up to him. 

It’s his problem to figure out why he’s acting so bizarrely. 

Why was Yoongi acting so bizarrely? 

He couldn’t understand. Why did he feel so possessive over you? It’s not like he felt any romantic attraction, he was the one to set the open relationship boundary after all. Why did it bother him so much that you were evidently so close to Namjoon now? 

He breathed out a sigh, sitting idly in his studio upstairs, tired from the gala. Namjoon was one of his closest friends, they made music they’d never release together. He shouldn’t be upset that you’re becoming friends with him. He knew this rationally, but why did it still make him so uncomfortable?

As Yoongi leaned back in his chair, head upturned to the ceiling and eyes closed, his mind wandered to the few times he’d seen you in his home since the wedding. The morning after, you’d looked stunning, coming downstairs in nothing but the same shirt and shorts he’d seen you in the night prior, the cold air making him realize you weren’t wearing a bra. He’d averted his eyes at that point, feeling like he was encroaching on your privacy, even though you were in his kitchen. 

Watching you realize your own attire and scramble upstairs to change had been cute, but Yoongi hadn’t wanted to entertain that thought. Either way, it was quickly replaced by the way your body felt against his as he reached above you for a mug. He couldn’t erase the sensation of your soft curves against his front from his mind. 

When he’d arrived home in the middle of you redecorating, he wasn’t sure why he’d offered his help. Maybe he wanted to get a glimpse into your room, grasping at a chance to see your personality transferred to the decorations adorning your bedroom walls. He’d been surprised by how much he’d liked the cutesy embellishments you’d added, finding that the surprising duality suited you. You were so often carefully neutral in your expressions and words and seeing your personal taste being so pretty and pleasant was charming. 

Later that night, he was surprised to see your bedroom light still on at the late hour when he’d left his room to get water. He peeked inside, seeing you lying on the floor in a mess of bolts, evidently trying to finish the last plank on your desk that was set up against the wall. The sight of you spread out so comfortably on the floor, hair strewn around your head almost framing your face like a halo, and your mouth partially open, letting out soft snores made him smile. He entered your room as quietly as he could, gently lifting you onto your bed and tucking you in, not even stirring you in your deep sleep. 

He was about to leave when he stepped on a screw, making him flinch and look at the mess of things still left to do. If he’d finished up your desk and set up your TV, it was because he couldn’t stand a mess, not for any other reason. Not that you seemed to know based on your demeanor the next morning. 

You’d looked adorable, coming down the stairs in rumpled clothing and tangled hair, your shirt’s neck slipping down your shoulder. But, he’d kept that thought to himself, behind pursed lips. You’d looked equally as beautiful in your cute brown dress that you’d worn to the art show, making him frown at his memory of being unable to tell you so. 

Well, why should he? He’d been the one to separate you two so blatantly, after all. He shouldn’t give you mixed signals. 

The thoughts of you in your loose and tight clothing, the image of you coming down the stairs in the silk dress that draped perfectly over your curves, and the tantalizing feeling of your skip against his palm had him leaning further back into his chair. 

Maybe he was just horny.

Yoongi sat up, all of a sudden. That was totally it! He’s just distracted by you because he hasn’t been laid in a while. That had to be it. It couldn’t be anything else, he wouldn’t allow it to be. 

Yoongi grinned, an easy smile taking over his face. Why was he so worried, the answer had been so simple. All he had to do was find a quick one night stand and his problems would be solved. 

His grin faltered. Probably, his problems would probably be solved. He didn’t want to consider what it meant if they weren’t.

previous / masterlist / next

[krosiefics]

“what’s this?” • kim seungmin

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: Seungmin finds one of your smutty books and teases you about it to the point where you BOTH take advantage of the situation.

WC: 1.7k

Tags: smut, piv, unprotected sex (be safe), afab!reader, bsf!seungmin, dom!seungmin, sub!reader, degradation (whore, slut, filthy, minx), light dacryphilia, creampie, seungmin is a little mean, ass slapping, hair pulling, light system, biting, blowjob, talkative seungmin, prob forgetting some sorry :(

“Hey, what’s this?” You hear your best friend say from the living room as you grab a snack from the kitchen. “What’s what?” You roll your eyes at the vague question.

“This.” You glance up to see Seungmin with the most shit eating grin ever. Your eyes flicker over to the object he’s holding up, it’s a book…it was one of those books. “That’s nothing, so if you’d just-“ You laugh dryly, attempting to snatch the book out of Seungmin’s hand. But the brown haired man raises his arm above his head, flipping through some pages before letting out a chuckle.

“‘Oh god, fuck me harder-‘ what the fuck is this?!” Seungmin teased, the smirk on his face not faltering one bit. “Never took you to be such a freak.” He stated as he continued reading the pages.

“He felt as she clenched against his cock, throbbing inside her pussy.” Seungmin read off the page as your face turned a dark hue of red. “Min, give it to me.” You say sternly, his antics only fueling your embarrassment.

Seungmin squints at you before flipping back a few pages until he was satisfied with the scene taking place in the book. “He strides over to her, caging her body in his.” Seungmin read, his body moving closer to yours.

Your heart pounded as his arms caged you against the kitchen counter. “His eyes falling to her lips, licking them as if he were craving to taste her.” Seungmin’s eyes flickered to yours before shifting towards your lips, letting his tongue run along his lower lip.

It’s then that you realize that he’s reenacting the scene from the book. The start of a smut scene…with you.

Your cheeks couldn’t possibly be redder. Seungmin lets out a chuckle as he reads the next line, “He leans in connecting their lips together as one, moving passionately against one another.”

Seungmin glances back at you as he leans his face dangerously close to yours. You gulp as you notice his eyes flicker down to your lips once more. “Min,” You breath out shakily, hands flying to his biceps.

“You’re so dirty you know that? Getting turned on by me reading a erotic scene…you’re filthy.” You shut your eyes and bite your lip, praying that no sound pours from them at his sudden degradation.

“Oh and look at that, you really are a slut.”

“Fuck.” you groan, your thighs rubbing against each other instinctively. “Their tongues danced against each other as his hands wrapped around the curve of her ass, squeezing at the flesh.”

His hands followed what the book said, trailing along the dip of your back before gently cupping your ass. You stare up at him with anticipating eyes.

“What?” Seungmin tilts his head teasingly, “You want more?” You groan before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and connecting your lips. Seungmin almost jumped in shock, not expecting you to have actually kissed him. He thought that the borderline groping was gonna get him kicked out of your apartment.

Seungmin’s hands stabilize on your hips as your lips move against one another, teeth clashing and tongue gliding along. Grunting as he pushes his hips into yours. “You’re a little shit you know that?” You huff out against his wet, swollen lips.

“Says the person who has an erotic book.” Seungmin cocks his head to the side. You’re suddenly aware of the proximity between the two of your bodies. You bite your lip, yearning to connect his lips to yours once more. As if he read your mind, Seungmin cups your cheeks, licking at the bottom of your lip allowing entry.

Seungmin’s hands trail once more down the curve of your ass, gently massaging at the flesh there. You roll your hips into his with neediness as your tongues move along one another. “Shit,” Seungmin groans, his lips detaching from yours to rest his forehead against your shoulder. “You can’t just do that.”

You peer down at the previously arrogant, teasing boy in front of you, just see his ears bright red. You roll your hips once more to tease him, feeling his hardening cock beneath his slacks. A small groan left his mouth. “And you called me dirty for getting turned on.” You tsked. Seungmin huffed out a laugh.

His grip on your ass suddenly tightens, lifting you onto the counter. The cold marble counter, causing you to let out a shaky gasp. Seungmin takes the opportunity to kiss you once again, his hands smacking lightly at your ass.

He presses his erection into your crotch as he lazily humps into you. You bite your lower lip to stifle your moans, Seungmin notices. He brings his fingers up to your lips, parting them, allowing your sweet moans to slip from your mouth. “Let me hear you, yeah.”

“Can I?” He asked as his fingers trace along the hem of your pajama shorts. You’re quick to nod, wanting everything that your best friend is willing to give. Seungmin’s larger hands slip past the waistband of your shorts, helping you lift your hips to slide them off all the way. You don’t miss the way he stiffens at the sight of your soaked pussy that’s clinging against your panties.

”Shit, you’re such a fucking minx.” Seungmin sighed as he ran his hands up and down your thighs, “Pull this off for me.” Motioning to your shirt, you quickly understand his prompt, lifting it up and over your head. “Fuck, you’re such a slut you know that?”

You moan softly, rubbing your thighs together. You need friction. You need to be touched. You need his touch.

“Min please.” You plead, growing desperate for his touch. “What?” Seungmin cocks his brow at you, “Growing needy are you?” He simply tuts, shaking his head at you. “Min, I swear to God-“

”What?” He tilts his head, “Are you gonna beg for it?”

Frustration clouds your mind leading you to push him off your body, getting off the counter before gently- yet forcibly- pinning him against the counter. “I hate you.” You pout, nonetheless sinking to your knees in front of him. “You say as you’re about to suck my cock like a slut.” You playfully slap his thigh before unzipping his jeans.

You stare at his bulge in front of you. He’s big…not too big that you’d be scared of putting it in you, but just enough to wear it might sting. “Stop staring at it and put your pretty mouth to good use.” As you pull his boxers down, his cock springs out, standing proudly at your face.

Seungmin’s breath hitches as your lips trail kisses along the shaft, making your way to his tip. “Fuck,” A throaty groan pours from the brown haired boy’s mouth as you take him into your mouth. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth- taking me so well.” He grunts between shallow breaths, gripping a handful of your hair tightly.

You never thought Seungmin could be so vocal during sex…you were wrong.

Seungmin guides your head along the length of his cock by the grip of your hair. The slight sting only turning you on even more. Suddenly, he pulls you all the way on him; tip hitting the back of your throat as you gag around him. Your hands fly up to his thighs, patting them to notify him. Seungmin helps you off his cock with a pop.

“You okay?” His tone changes as he watches you cough excessively from the lack of oxygen. “Yeah.” You manage to say between breaths. You finally peer up at him after gathering yourself from almost suffocating on his cock. Seungmin gulps as he sees you teary eyes and wet eyelashes staring up at him in an almost innocent manner.

“Fucking hell.” Seungmin breathes out before raising you up from your knees and placing you on the counter once more. “Fuck, you’re so dirty you know that? I’m gonna fuck you so good, hm.” His rough hands rub along your inner thighs, trailing a bit higher with each passing second.

“God, please do.” You groan, instinctively separating your legs as he strokes himself. “You know the colors?” Seungmin cocks his head at you with a smirk, you eagerly nod in response. “Words.”

“Yes I know the col- oh my fuck!” You let out a moan as he, without warning, moves your panties to the side and rams himself into your throbbing cunt.

He roughly pushes your torso down, hand wrapping around your throat- not to the point where you're lacking oxygen, just a slight pressure. The sounds pouring from your mouth are almost pornographic. Wet squelching and skin against skin noises echoing throughout your kitchen. At the corner of your eye you notice the book that had been forgotten long ago.

Seungmin follows your gaze, with a free hand flipping a page. “God you’re so beautiful, sucking my cock inside your wet pussy.” You groan, though not out of pleasure, but for the fact that at one point you thought reading smutty books was better than experiencing it.

“Stop!” You gasped out, Seungmin glanced over to you and gave you a look, his grip on your neck loosening ever so slightly. “Yellow-“ He stops, “with the book! Keep going though.” Seungmin chuckles at you as he begins to pick up his speed.

“God you’re so beautiful. You know…I’ve liked you for a while.” Seungmin grunts into you, his hand leaving your throat and grasping at your hips to stabilize you. “Minnie- please stop…reading the book.”

“Not reading anything.” He stares at you, “I do like you.” Your body automatically clenches around him, that familiar knot in your stomach threatening to release. “Fuck Min, I like you too-“ Seungmin cuts you off abruptly with his lips. The feeling of both of your bodies together and knowing each other's feelings cause you to both spill over the edge.

Seungmin eased out of you, his warm cum slowly dripping out of your cunt. “Shit you’re so perfect.” Leaning in and placing a kiss on your lips before helping you off the counter.

“You fucked up my back.” You joke as the two of you laid on your bed after cleaning the mess you left in the kitchen. Seungmin raises his eyebrow at you, a small endearing smirk resting on his lips.

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