#and kept freezing every couple seconds for about twenty mins each time

[aprilestrange]

Okay, Rant Time.

Alright, the amount of hate towards 2Nu in recent months is getting ridiculous. I know there’s always been 2Nu haters, but since Gorillaz is active again, the animosity is back and bigger than ever. It’s ridiculous. I can understand not liking shipping the bandmates with each other, but 2Nu really gets a lot of flack. And the detractors seriously love throwing terms around without caring, just so they can justify their hatred. It’s comedy fucking GOLD. One thing haters love to call 2Nu is “child grooming.” Do you even know what child grooming actually fucking is? Child grooming is defined as:

The constellation of psychological manipulations and actions taken by a predatory adult, meant to reduce a child’s fears and inhibitions, as a prelude to sexual abuse or exploitation by the predator or his/her associates. (thefreedictionary.com)

Oprah’s site elaborates on this more:

The grooming sex offender works to separate the victim from peers, typically by engendering in the child a sense that they are special to the child and giving a kind of love to the child that the child needs.

And during research, there are several steps to child grooming in order to get the sexual end result.

Targeting the victim (self explanatory. Most commonly look for children who feel isolated, emotionally needy, or have low self confidence)

Gaining the child’s trust (watching and gathering information on the child so they can know how to approach the child and lower their guard. The predator has to be slick and not act in a way to gain suspicion by the parents/guardians)

Filling a need (such as gifts, extra attention, etc.)

Isolating the child (constantly trying to create situations in which the predator can be alone with the victim. This in turn makes the connection stronger and the child trusts the abuser more. It can be even more reinforced when an offender cultivates a sense in thechildthat they are loved or appreciated in a way nobody else provides the child)

Sexualizing the relationship (going slowly by taking advantage of a child’s curiosity and then advance the sexual encounters the more time that passes. Through this, they make the child become a sexual being)

Maintaining control (the usual threats if the child tries to withdraw from the relationship. The child will by now be so afraid of losing their special relationship they’ll become docile in order to keep their abuser close to them.

Now, going over all of these points, does that really sound like something 2-D would do? Hell no! Child grooming is a drawn out process that not just anybody can pull off. It is INTENTIONALLY done. It requires quite a bit of planning and is a process that can take months to plan before execution. Now, no offense to 2-D, but he’s not exactly…smart enough to pull off something atrocious like this. 2-D is an adorkable goofball and he would never do something like this. Especially not to Noodle. Now, child grooming sounds more like something Murdoc would do if he were a pedophile. He seems the type to do something like that (and no, I’m not calling Nudoc pedophilia, either, I’m just saying. Out of the two of them, child grooming sounds more like something Murdoc would do rather than 2-D because he’s really despicable).

Another term 2Nu haters just love to throw around carelessly (and this applies to any fandom towards ships that have age gaps) is pedophilia. “Oh, you can’t ship 2Nu! It’s pedophilia!!!!!!1 1 ONE!!!!!” ….lolk. Do you people know what pedophilia ACTUALLY means? Hold that thought, it probably doesn’t mean what you think it means. Pedophilia is actually defined as:

An ongoing sexual attraction to pre-pubertal children…the fantasy or act of sexual activity with children who are generally age 13 or younger. (Psychology Today)

Now, again, does that sound like 2-D? Again: HELL NO. I don’t see how people continue to call 2Nu pedophilia to this very day when, in CANON, Noodle is almost THIRTY FUCKING YEARS OLD. I don’t think that a 39 year old being with a 26 (almost 27) year old is pedophilia. Now, if people ship 2Nu in Phase 1 and 2, when Noodle was 10-14 or so respectively, yes THAT can be considered pedophilia, but starting from Phase 3 and now, it’s NOT pedophilia. In Phase 3, Noodle was 20 years old. Phase 4, now, Noodle is about 26 years old. And in the UK, the age of adulthood is 18. So since in Phase 3, Noodle is 20, I don’t see how that can still be called pedophilia. And truth be told, I don’t see much fanart of Phase 1 or 2 2Nu. The few pieces that are around, it’s mostly just unrequited crushes Noodle has towards 2-D, nothing seriously romantic. But even so, quite a lot of Phase 2 2Nu art I’ve seen, the artist deliberately states that Noodle is of age in those pieces. Have you people never heard of aging up a character? I guess not. But I will agree, Pre-Phase 3 2Nu is very wrong. Besides, most 2Nu art that is around and is romantic depict them in Phase 3+. And don’t even get started with the stupid “B-but 2-D and Noodle have a 12 year age gap!!!!” because that shit’s annoying. Yeah, that’s quite a few years in between them, but it’s not that bad. Especially since, as I’ve said before, Noodle is of legal age. And it’s only 12 years between them. It’s not like Noodle is 26 and 2-D is 65 or whatever. Now with Murdoc, he’s many years older than Noodle. He’s literally old enough to be Noodle’s father. 2-D and Noodle’s age gap pales in comparison to the bigger age gap between Noodle and Murdoc. And I honestly don’t see Nudoc getting as much hate as 2Nu. *sighs and shakes head*

Also, “2Nu is abusive!!!” Ummm…LOL. No it isn’t. Never once has 2-D physically, mentally/emotionally, nor sexually abused Noodle and never will, so your argument right there is invalid.

And out of all the Gorillaz ships, 2Nu is the most plausible (in regards to the band members dating each other). It’s not hard to imagine Noodle always having a crush on 2-D. And yeah, you could argue that they’re like siblings, but there are plenty of pairings that are like brother and sister but end up together (aka main guy x main girl in almost every series). It’s honestly not as disturbing as Noodle and Russell. Russell is like a big brother to Noodle and like a father to her. He was the one who REALLY raised her like his own. Murdoc’s like that sleazy older uncle who is addicted to strippers but still cares for Noodle. 2-D is a bit like a brother, but again, it’s not hard to see Noodle having at least a one-sided crush on him after all these years. Also, they seem more like super BFFs than ONLY just like brother/sister.  Especially when she reunites with the band in “Rhinestone Eyes.” After being gone for about 5 years or so, I’m sure seeing him again would reawaken her feelings for him and make them even stronger. 2-D could start to view Noodle romantically after all these years, surprised by how well she aged and since she’s physically (and mentally perhaps) a lot different. And sure, 2-D would be freaking out and conflicted at first, but eventually he would get over it and love her back. Besides, even if he didn’t return her feelings, they’re best enough friends to not let something like that come in between them. Their zen bond is stronger than that.

And let’s not forget the official art that’s come out since Humanz came out. There’s one magazine cover that can be taken as romantic with how Noodle is posing with 2-D. Besides, there’s been a lot more art of 2-D and Noodle close to each other in this phase (there were a couple as well back in Plastic Beach, but not as many as there are now with Humanz). It’s nice to see how much closer 2-D and Noodle appear to be in Phase 4. And honestly, it isn’t hard to imagine someone not into Gorillaz mistaking these images implying the two are together.

It’s hilarious how haters are all “LOL friendship goals!!!” but if it’s Noodle next to Murdoc or something, it’s deemed “CANON LOLZ.” Seriously. Ah well, I’m also a victim of rose-tinted shipping goggles for other pairings myself, so I can’t judge too hard. *shrugs* Also, quit getting super peeved when someone likens “To Binge” or any song from Plastic Beach to 2Nu. Let people do whatever they want. If someone thinks “To Binge,” or “Broken,” is a 2Nu theme, then for crying out loud, let them think that! That also goes for “She’s My Collar,” too. Stop giving people shit because they’re “not understanding the song’s real meaning/message!” or whatever.

So, in short, those are my defenses to the two biggest anti 2Nu arguments that I see everywhere, and then some. Now, it’s fine to not ship 2Nu, but you really shouldn’t cross-tag into the pro 2Nu tag and start attacking anyone and everyone that ships it. It doesn’t make you look any better, really. And that goes for any other Gorillaz pairing. If you don’t like a pairing, that’s fine, just don’t go all ballistic when you see your NOTP. And seriously, stop cross tagging. It’s seriously irritating and makes you look like a huge asshat. Stop ruining the fun for shippers and everyone else. Stop causing fucking drama. This isn’t the SU (or insert other insanely dramatic, toxic fanbase here) fandom for crying out loud! Also, holy crap, Noodle is almost 27, let her get fucking romance already! Stop treating Noodle like she’s still that little 10-year-old girl.

TL;DR: Let people ship whatever the fuck they want in the Gorillaz fandom and stop giving them shit for liking said pairing. Especially 2Nu. Seriously, stop trying to start shit.

ALSO, stop calling 2Nu shippers pedophiles. None of us are. You motherfuckers literally made somebody suicidal because of the petty name calling. Fuck you.

[ktheist]

life is yours

muses. professor!fiancee!namjoon x reader x fiancee’s friend!past life husband! expecting father!yoongi

genre. reincarnation au. college au. pregnancy au.

word. 1.7k

x

you loved min yoongi, you’d die for him.

and died for him you did. when the traitors came for your king, you’d leaped in front of him and took a swing of the treacherous sword. history books portrayed him as the king who went mad. the king who slayed hundreds of lives in one night and ruled for fifty more years as a tyrant.

what are histories if not painted with a tragic romance?

they said it was because of you he went mad. because he lost his queen, his breath.

a few hundred years later, he’d found her again. at the age of twenty-seven and you, twenty-two.

his girlfriend was pregnant with his baby and you were professor kim namjoon’s student-turned-fiance.

“it’s funny, you know,” you took a whiff of the cigarette and breathe out through your mouth, “we can walk out of our current relationships and ruin everyone’s perception of us, or we can just lead the life we’re living like we didn’t remember anything.”

yoongi squints his eyes as he stares up at the sun. lips tucked downwards, as though telling the universe that after one lifetime too many, he’s unimpressed.

“or we could just run away,” he recalls the flames of the torches of that night - not as bright as today’s sun but just as mocking, “forget about everything and run away.”

“you make it sound so easy,” a laugh escapes your smoke kissed lips, “it’s not as if the people we’ve known and loved are fake, faceless puppets.”

this life is just as real.

though it would’ve gone much different if you’d met each other sooner.

yoongi taps the pointed corner of the invitation card on his palm. it tickles but it’s nothing compared to the burning sensation as he held onto the handle of the sword despite it grazing his flesh.

“how far along is she?” his girlfriend, you mean. 

walking into namjoon’s office - the office you’d snuck into a few times too many but felt utterly alien - you saw the porcelain, snow-kissed complexion of your king. all at once, the memories hit you like a rain of shards.

and in each, individual shard, you see the images of your first step, first drawing, first embroidery and the first time you met yoongi. an arrogant boy whom you pushed into the koi pond.

the same boy who smirked at you the whole time during your engagement ceremony while you squirmed in your seat, scheming a runway and an apology at the same time.

and the man who strutted into the room, plopped on the left side of the bed and bade you good night on your first night as a married couple.

it was until three months later, that you trapped him under you and confronted him about it.

you thought yoongi, the crown prince turned king, had a lover. but he loved you too much to hurt you. they said you’re supposed to bleed on your first time. you laughed until your stomach hurt because you were happy beyond words that your husband was abstaining himself for you and not going around fucking a lover behind your back.

not even a year later, you caressed your stomach and giggled to yourself, thinking about yoongi’s stone cold expression turning pink and speechless. that night, the rebellion happened.

your last memories was of him holding you in his arms and calling out your name. 

in this lifetime, your first memory of him is watching him smile a familiar smile that screamed awkwardness as namjoon relayed their youthful tales.

that was, until he got to the part where yoongi’s about to be a father.

all of a sudden, there’s a knot in your stomach. it twists and tightens until you feel like you’re going to puke if you didn’t excuse yourself, saying something about calling your mom that you’d be having dinner with namjoon and letting the two men catch up.

“ten weeks. we’re ten weeks pregnant,” he sucks in a deep, agonized breath - and from the way he’s gazing up at the sky with his hands on his hips, you don’t think he meant to hide his afflictions.

the way he refers to himself and her as ‘we’ makes that knot all the more painful.

“i was a seven weeks pregnant,” you smile softly to yourself, gazing down at your stomach as if you could feel your baby from your previous lifetime.

you shouldn’t have said it.

should’ve just kept quiet.

but-

“they told me you were eight weeks in,” the soft, breathless tone that comes from yoongi is  what makes your heart beat again.

as if you’d come to life. as if min ___, the queen of joseon had come back to tell her king the one thing she wished to say. the one thing she wished for.

a family.

“taeyang. i was going to name him taeyang because he was going to be the sun of the dynasty and bring peace to the nation,” you laugh and it’s the choked up sound that you make that makes you realize you’re on the verge of crying.

“never thought i’d be talking about histories and dynasties with anyone - i hate history,” the confession slips out of you like you’re talking with an old friend. someone you trust wholeheartedly. someone you know you can confide in. 

yoongi was your friend, your lover, your king.

“come with me. i have a savings account, we can start anew somewhere, we can have what we couldn’t have back then.” he turns to you and looks at you in the eye. 

“what about your baby?” you ask because you know it’s meant for his future family.

“i’ll send child support every month,” he says.

“your parents?” you ask because his mother was a concubine and the king barely remembered his name out of the names of his many children.

in this lifetime, from the way namjoon candidly told the story, you know they love their eldest son as much as he loves them.

“they’ll adore you,” he says.

“no one’s gonna love a homewr- ah,” you hiss, dropping the cigarette that was trapped between your fingers until it burned your skin.

“___,” a familiar, deep but less gravelly tone reverberates against the walls as namjoon comes jogging at you like you’re a kid who just bruised her knee.

you study his face and yoongi’s eyes burn holes in your head.

from the way he meets your gaze and gives you ‘your fingers almost got burned and you’re looking at me?’ you think it’s safe to say that he didn’t hear what you were saying.

“i’m fine, i just burned my fingers because i got too engulfed in yoongi’s stories about how you two met,” you laugh at how namjoon’s inspecting your fingers more attentively than a doctor would.

“another reason to include in the long list of reasons not to smoke,” your finacee chides.

“that was my last,” you announce in a higher pitch than your usual voice - and that’s how namjoon knows you’re half-joking, even when you- “i promise.”

“anyways,” you place the injured hand on his chest to distract him - the way yoongi’s jaw tighten doesn’t go past you, “i talked to my dad because apparently my mom was cooking and couldn’t come to the phone and he said to tell you to bring me back before curfew.”

it’s the way namjoon freezes underneath your touch, his eyes blinking once and his soul retreating far back into his subconscious that makes you giggle.

“i’m kidding.”

only then, does he breathe again.

“my mom wasn’t cooking, she was watching her favorite show,” you say again.

it takes a split second for namjoon to put two and two together and tenses up again. as if he feels your father’s hardened gaze behind him. your father didn’t take it too well when you introduced your professor as your boyfriend who proposed to you a week before.

“it was nice meeting you, yoongi, we look forward to see you at our wedding,” you extend a hand, the playful smile reserved for namjoon, now directed at your king.

the king whom you died for. and the king who you’re telling to live his life, as you’ll live yours.

“wouldn’t miss my best friend’s wedding for the world,” he smiles, his hand grasping yours and you thought you’re going to combust from the electrifying sensation that runs through your veins.

but it’s only short-lived. 

you pull your hand away and he summons his back to his side.

he turns to namjoon and gives him a pat on his shoulder, congratulating him again but this time, with a lingering stare before walking past the two of you and towards the parking lot.

“professor, i’ll get my purse from your office and we’ll be good to go.” you say absently before skipping to the opposite direction of where yoongi was headed.

with each step you take, you hear your heart breaking. just like the pieces of your memories that rains down like shards of glass.

you wonder if you’ll make it through this life without dying of a broken heart.

“i thought we fixed that?” namjoon murmurs behind you, just as you sling the strap of your purse over your shoulder.

“hm?” you turn to the man leaning against the doorframe, observing you with a crease between his brows.

“you called me professor again,” namjoon mumbles almost as if he’s sulking.

and your heart warms at the tender sight of a grown man acting like a child. you’re reminded of the reason you fell for kim namjoon. his gentle nature was the opposite of yours yet he laughed at your jokes like he laughed off your flirtatious advancements.

he told you he saw you as a student and lent you his scarf when he saw you shaking in the cold while waiting for your uber. the next time he saw you, at 11 pm before the library closes, he offered to drive you home even though his was in the opposite direction from yours.

“namjoon,” you say his name, a smile tucked on your lips as you wrap your arms around his waist and his arm that had been crossed over his chest instantly makes it way around you, “thank you.”

“for what?” his eyes light up like a christmas tree, dimple digging into his cheek.

“for choosing me,” you stand on the tip of your toes and he meets you halfway for the kiss.

and you loved min yoongi, you died for him.

you love kim namjoon, you choose to live the rest of your life with him.

x

note. so like, the title - technically, it’s like oc saying “my life is yours” to both yoongi and namjoon but in different lifetimes :D

[minyoonmeme]

Normalcy of the Pretty Posse

Chapter 4

Word count: 3232

Pairing: Jeongguk x reader, ??? x reader

Description: Stupid Jeongguk and his cute sweaters and pretty posse of hyungs

Genre/Warnings: Min Yoongi is not very good at meeting people, but Park Jimin is. 

Tag List: @luvtaeha @holaaaf 

Previous Next

masterlist

“Do you know what’s going on?” 

“Nope.”

Jeongguk and Hoseok whispered to one another huddled over a family size bag of chips, crumbs falling each time they shifted. Their eyes danced between (Y/N) to Yoongi while they mindlessly shoveled chips into their mouths. Yoongi had let Jeongguk and (Y/N) into the studio twenty minutes ago and beyond introductions not much had happened. Hoseok almost pouts from disappointment. Where's the flare? The dramatics? Why hasn’t Yoongi pissed himself yet from nervousness? 

“Are you love birds gonna stand outside holding hands or are you gonna come in before you waste time?” Hoseok’s grip on the door was light as he narrowed his stance and let the two past him. “Hi (Y/N), you look cute today. Jeongguk you look cute too, I guess.” Hoseok smiled to himself as (Y/N) skirted past him with an embarrassed smile. Jeongguk followed suit with a wave to Yoongi, who was too occupied trying to make himself look busy, and a pinch to Hoseok’s arm for the added embarrassment. 

“You speak Korean right?”

“Hyung!” Yoongi barely spared Jeongguk a glance as he glanced toward (Y/N) from his seat. Yoongi noted that she was a small thing with her head barely past Jeongguk’s shoulder. Her head bobbed up and down before she fell into a bow. 

“Hello, My name is (Y/N). I’m a commercial music and production major at KNU. It’s nice to meet you, please take care of me.”

Yoongi blinked a few times and shook his nearly empty coffee before responding. “So.. do you speak Korean or..?”

“Hyung, she just spoke Korean!”

“Jeongguk-ah, you and I both know she could have prepared that.”

“She goes to a Korean university in the middle of Seoul, I highly doubt that.”

Yoongi gave a small shrug before reaching his hand out. “You shake hands where you’re from right? I’m Min Yoongi. It's nice to meet  you.”

Hoseok was loving every second as he watched from the couch. 

“Should we say something?” Jeongguk watched as (Y/N) tapped her fingers against the table. Jeongguk recognized a few familiar hand positions from the few piano lessons Yoongi had reluctantly given him his sophomore year. 

“I don’t know. I’m kind of intimidated right now. Hyung looks like he wants to jump out a window or run out the door any minute now.” Jeongukk shrugged and leaned closer to Hoseok crumbling the chips between them in the process. 

“It would be great if we could hear what they were listening to instead of listening to each other finish an entire bag of chips. Did you know you eat with your mouth open? Fucking heathen, I didn’t raise you this way.” Jeongguk smacked his greasy crump covered hand across Hoseok’s shoulder for that. Hoseok just whines and rubs at the spot tenderly. 

Yoongi and (Y/N) sat adjacent to one another as Yoongi’s soundboard desk shuffling through the drive she had brought. Yoongi had asked (correction: forced) Hoseok to wheel in another chair for (Y/N) to sit in while they listened, but her feet barely reached the floor as she swung them back and forth with nerves. Jeongguk was sure she was overwhelmed as Yoongi usually chose to sit in silence while he listened to tracks and Yoongi’s silence was nothing short of intense. A plain matte black pair, a pair Yoongi had pulled out from a random drawer, sat on top of her head just slightly too big. Jeongguk had never seen the pair before and felt a small flutter on his stomach at the thought that Yoongi had bought a new pair for her to use. He knew Yoongi tended to shy away from leading or teaching, but felt grateful his hyung was willing to even try. The flutter had nothing to do with the fact that he thought she looked cute as the headphones slipped around repeatedly off of her head. Nope, none at all.

“How many songs has it been? Like 6? My back is starting to hurt from this couch. Hyung should really get another one.” 

“It’s uncomfortable for a reason, you brat. How long are you trespassers going to keep talking?” Jeongguk and Hoseok jumped up, effectively smacking their heads against one another at the sudden voice. Both met Yoongi’s stare as he looked over his left shoulder, one ear free from his headphones.

“Sorry, Hyung we’ll stay quiet.” Hoseok nodded along with Jeongguk’s words, even going so far as to mime zipping his lips closed and tossing a key over his shoulder. 

Yoongi rose his eyebrows up before lifting his headphones off of his head with a deep breath. (Y/N) followed suit, although slightly more hesitantly. “You guys can leave, actually.” 

Jeongguk’s eyes darted over to (Y/N) as he watched her body freeze. The hand that had been tapping chords onto the table unplugged her headphones before stiffly beginning to neatly wrap the cord. He wished he knew what was going on in her head as he watched her eyes dart back and forth along the floor. His hand itches to stop her small trembles as she reached to pull out the usb drive. 

“Yoongi-hyung don’t you think you’re being too harsh. It’s only been like twenty minutes...”

Yoongi threw a confused look at Hoseok before spinning his chair fully to face the couch behind him. “I kick you guys out of my studio like twice a week, this is nothing new. Now out.” Yoongi emphasized the “now” with a flick of his chin towards the door before turning back to his monitors. He hadn’t even acknowledged (Y/N). 

Hoseok loved his friend, he did, but watching Jeongguk beat himself for bringing (Y/N) here made his skin boil. A look at (Y/N) left him even more mad. Her shoulders were squared inward as she shoved her things into her bag as quickly and quietly as possible. They weren’t close in any way, but Hoseok had grown up with a sister and hated seeing anyone, especially girls, cry.  

“Fine. we’re leaving you hermit. Don’t think we won’t be having a talk about this later when you get home.” Hoseok heaved Jeongguk up from the couch by his elbow and did the same for (Y/N). Their eyes met and Hoseok mentally cursed in his head for Yoongi’s asshole tendencies. He knew Yoongi wasn’t an actual asshole, nor was he intending to be mean, but this just is how Yoongi was. ‘All think, few words' is how Hoseok described Yoongi’s communication style or lack thereof. Yoongi could feel a million things and somehow sum it up in twenty offensive words or less. Looking at her again Hoseok leaned down and whispered, “Let’s get some ice cream, yeah? My treat!” His heart eased little when a small smile and a squeeze to his hand on her elbow were returned. 

“Where are you going?” Yoongi looked up from his now blank monitor confused and blinked in (Y/N)’s direction. All think, few words indeed.

Jeongukk, Hoseok, and (Y/N) looked between each other. Jeongguk had his head wrapped around the door’s handle ready to storm out toddler style while Hoseok’s hand slid from her elbow to her wrist. 

(Y/N) shook a little while she stuttered, “I thought that you-- I mean you said to--” 

“I thought you said you could speak Korean?”

“I can! I’m-uh just confused, I think. You said to get out?”

Yoongi met her eyes for a few seconds before furrowing at the ground. “I meant them. Why would I kick you out? That’s dumb.” 

(Y/N)’s hand swung to Hoseok's wrapped around her elbow and threw him a brief bright smile. Hoseok, confused but slowly understanding the situation, smiled back just as big and gave their hands a small shake in victory. Another crisis avoided, he supposed.

“You’re right, I’m sorry for misunderstanding Yoongi-shii! Where were we? Let me get my hard drive back out!” 

Yoongi handed her a reconnected pair of headphones, keeping his hand out for the usb drive she had taken back. Her hands left hoseok as she excitedly ruffled through her bag. The usb fell onto the open palm before her as she threw the headphones over her ears. She made sure to throw a smile and thumbs up to Jeongguk still standing by the door. Crisis very much so avoided, actually.

Hoseok patted (Y/N)’s head before grabbing Jeongguk’s elbow in tow. “We should probably get out before Yoongi-hyung starts throwing pens at us. I think he started sharpening them down after Jin-hyung took an HDMI cord.” 

Jeongguk opened his mouth to reject Hoseok’s idea, but was interrupted by (Y/N) spinning her chair away from the soundboard to face him halfway. “I’ll text you when I’m done and let you know how it went okay?” Jeongguk nodded, mouth a little too dry from the smile lingering on her lips, and tried to return it. “Bye Hoseok-shii, we can get ice cream later maybe? Bye Jeonggukk-oppa!” 

Hoseok kept his giggles in as he dragged a flustered Jeongguk out the door. 

_______________________________________________________________________

God he was intimidating…

Yoongi had chosen to forgo any excessive speaking and instead settled for minimal verbal explanations with lots of subtle grunts and pointing. It worked for a bit as Yoongi pulled up the tracks of my songs in a much more advanced version of Logic Pro than I owned. College budgets don’t really allow for excessive spending these days, ya know? 

“Uh Yoongi-shii, I really appreciate everything we’ve done today, but I have no idea what you’re saying right now.” Yoongi, I had noticed, tended to mumble and despite having spoken for Korean for a couple of years now satoori and mumbled things tended to make understanding someone very difficult. 

Yoongi looked at me sideways and blinked before taking a deep breath. He had looked more sure of himself when Hoseok and Jeongguk were here, so I chose not to mention how his shoulders seemed to move inward as he inched to face me. “You distorted this sample right?” I nodded in response. “Right, well I was just wondering why you added so much reverb if you’d already added distortion. It throws the whole thing off after the second verse, no flow really. You should probably scrap it and start over.” 

“Oh uh, I mean you’re right actually. It’s kind of an overkill. You’re very honest, Yoongi-shii.” 

I watched as Yoongi finished off the last of his now mostly water iced coffee with a nod. “You could say that.”

“In that case, I’ll be honest too. I think you’re being a little picky because you don’t know what you’re doing or what to do with me, specifically.” 

Yoongi narrowed his eyes and leaned backward in his chair, the joints squeaking slightly as he did so. So much for a cool guy move. “Picky? Did you expect me to graze over your mediocrity? I’m a professional kid, we don’t take mediocrity in the big world and Daddy’s money isn’t gonna get you far.” Yoongi whipped his hands on his pants as he clicked around. 

My arms tingled as a heaviness settled in my chest, something akin to disappointment and failure making a home. “Daddy’s money? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yoongi turned and refused to look at me any longer. “It means I can smell the money rolling off of you and I don’t think working in a cafe can get you the program needed to mix music like this.” 

My chest felt heavier than before as I geared myself up to respond. “You’re right. That was expensive and maybe I do come from money, but that song was made in 2014 and I’ll have you know that I’ve been living on my own in Korea since I was fucking shipped off in 2015. I didn’t come here to get profiled Yoongi-shii, I came here because I thought you were a professional who knew how to scroll and find my recent tracks.” Fuck Min Yoongi if he thinks he can walk all over me.

Yoongi clenched his jaw with a slight tilt of his head to the side before visibly gulping down whatever was in his throat. His free hand meanwhile gripped the mouse and clicked into another folder. _______________________________________________________________________

To: JJK-Oppa 

Heading home now Yoongi-shii is weird and mean 

From: JJK-Oppa

How was it? I’m sorry about earlier by the way. Yoongi-Hyung isn't the best at expressing himself or talking really

To: JJK-Oppa

I figured as much, he seems harmless though just a little idk??? So much attitude in a tiny body Don’t tell him I said he’s tiny oh god I already kinda sorta maybe went off on him

From: JJk-Oppa

Secrets safe with me :) Why did you go off on him???  I’ll beat him up for you >:)

To: JJK-Oppa

Jeongguk-oppa, I don’t think you could hurt a fly but thank you <3 Do you think Hoseok-shi would still get me ice cream? I’ll give you all the juicy details later

From: JJK-Oppa

Hyung said he’s always down for ice cream We can pick you up..?

To: JJK-Oppa

Say less <3 

______________________________________________________________________

“(Y/N)! Over here!” My head flew right as I looked in the direction of the voice. Jeongguk stood half in the back door of a black SUV. I threw a hand up and waved back noticing he had changed from a casual oversized sweater and jeans to a matching baggy grey sweatsuit. 

“Hi Jeongguk-oppa, it’s nice to see you again.” I gave a small bow of my head before ducking beneath his arm holding the door open and sliding in. I released a happy sigh when I felt the heat coming from the vents. “Hi again Hoseok-shii, thank you for picking me up.” 

Hoseok and scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Back it up women, what’s this “Hoseok-shii” business all about? You call Jeongguk Oppa and not me? You’re soon to be dance captain too?”

I smiled and leaned forward to place my cheek against the side of his seat. My eyes fluttered and smiled up at him. “Would you like you to call you oppa hoseok-shii?” Hoseok turned to face me and pinched my other cheek with a scrunch of his nose

“You brat, it’s Hobi-Oppa now okay? You’re gonna be trouble. I can tell already.” I rolled my eyes and pulled his hand from my cheek before slumping back. “This is Jimin, by the way. He wormed his way into the car before we could stop him, so I apologize for anything he does beforehand. He is also trouble.” 

Jimin, for what it's worth, only smiled and turned from the passenger seat to smile at me as I buckled my seatbelt next Jeongguk. “I heard there would be free ice cream and gossip about Yoongi-hyung, so I had to come.” His eyes melted into crescents as his smile grew in a way that I can only describe as heart clenchingly cute. God dammit another member Jeongguk’s posse.

“It’s nice to meet you Jimin-shii. Free ice cream is the best kind of ice cream, so I don’t blame you for tagging along.” 

Jimin studied me for a few minutes with a small smile before Hoseok yelled at him for not wearing his seatbelt. 

“You think I want your dead body on my hands if we get into an accident? I’m all up for living on the edge Jimin, but please put your seatbelt on so Jin-hyung doesn’t have a heart attack, please.” 

“I’m too cute to be a corpse.” 

“I hate to break it to you, but being cute doesn’t constitute not dying Jimin.”

“God clearly has his favorites, look at me! I’ll be fine.”

“Do not tempt me into killing you with this car to prove you wrong. I’ll do it. (Y/N) tell him I’ll do it.” 

“(Y/N) sweetie, you stay out of this okay? Just sit there and hold Jeonggukie’s hand while Hobi-hyung and I sort this out.”

Jeongguk, most likely used to this kind of conversation, was glancing out the window in thought as a nudged him. Though the flush on his cheeks that matched mine told me that he was still listening. “Is this normal for you guys?”

“Hm? Oh you mean Hobi and Jimin hyung? Yeah, all of my hyungs bicker like old married couples. Says is what they get for raising me.” 

Before I could respond, Jimin was tapping my knee closest to him with a pout. “Ya! Weren’t you listening? (Y/N), you’ll call me Oppa right? Hobi-hyung and Jeonggukie aren't the only ones, right?” Hoseok and Jeongguk both scoffed from their seats.

My eyes widened as I gave a quick glance to Jeongguk only to receive a shrug in response. Just great, thanks for the help. “Uh yeah Jimin-shii, I guess I’ll call you oppa one day.” 

“One day?” Jimin scoffed and pinched my knee. “You call me Jimin-oppa right now, young lady. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other more often. Us cute people have to stick together against people like Hobi-hyung.” The hand that pinched my knee returned and gave it a few pats. My mouth hung open slightly before I nodded and fought off a few giggles as a response. 

Things settled down for a few minutes before Jugguk shifted in his seat away from me slightly. His head was no longer facing the window, but now towards his lap as he flipped his phone between his hands. I was happy to see him not ripping at his fraying sweater sleeves, but curious as to what was causing the furrow between his brows. The atmosphere was light as Jimina and Hoseok continued to bicker about ice cream shops, so his look only made me worry. I snuck a glance at the two up front and decided texting was probably better than announcing any worries out loud. Jeongguk seemed like the private type anyways.

To: JJK-Oppa

Everything okay?

Jeongguk blinked as his phone lit up with my text message. He read it before furrowing his eyebrows deeper at the screen. I motioned for him to text me back with a pout. 

From: JJK-Oppa

Why are you are texting me

To: JJK-Oppa

Do you not want me to text you? :( 

Jeongguk looks at the screen with wide eyes before shaking his head no at me. It’s dark but I can still see the pink dusting across his skin nonetheless. Cute.

To: JJK-Oppa

I’m kidding, but really what’s up? 

Jeongguk goes to type again, but freezes his fingers a couple of times before typing and erasing a few times. Trying not to overwhelm him and give him some peace, I look away to listen to Hoseok and Jimin talking about which chores are overdue at their place. A chime of my phone brings my attention back to my phone.

From: JJK-Oppa

It’s nothing

To: JJK-Oppa

It’s okay. Sprinkles make everything better :)

Jeongguk’s small giggle eases the worry in my chest and any residual hurt lingering from my meeting with Yoongi as his eyes crease at the ends. It’s then that I suddenly remember why Jeongguk and his friends were so well known around campus. He’s so pretty. I hear Hoseok and Jimin cackling from the front and give my chest a few pats as it races. Correction: they’re all pretty.

[A/N: Hello~ I feel very ehh about this one, but honestly props to me for putting this out despite working two jobs, being a full time student, AND being major depresso espresso lately. Let me know what you guys think!]

[eleventoes]

the story of us | oneshot

pairing: yoongi x reader; broke-up-but-getting-back-together!au | so much fluff and lots of pining, with almost non-existent angst word count: 7.1k ♪: when night falls - punch, can’t love you anymore - iu and oh hyuk warning(s): none synopsis:

Three times you cross paths with Min Yoongi, and that one time you both find your way back to each other.

***

Yoongi’s mind was empty, for the most part, when he first enters the subway, mundane thoughts like whether he’d let the cat out this morning swirling languidly in his hollow brain. The automated sound system rings from above, politely informing him that it was currently five past twelve and that service would cease soon, as if he doesn’t already know that from having spent the past three months bolting out of his studio at 12.02am on the dot to catch the last train home.

He yawns, lazily glancing around the empty seats and emptier cabins.

Yoongi doesn’t love many things, (his music and his cat made for a grand total of two) but he does love the quietude of the midnight crowd—which was next to none, really.

Then he freezes, mid-yawn and unglamorous, when he catches sight of your familiar figure slumped over the thick plastic of the subway seats, eyelids snapped shut and teetering dangerously to your side whenever the train jerks abruptly with a low rumble.

You were falling asleep, fast, and Yoongi feels the sleep draining from his eyelids as alarm took over and, before his singular brain cell could tell him to walk away, walk away you fucking idiot, he was dropping everything in his arms, knapsack and notebook be damned, to reach over and cup your head gently in his hands. Perfect timing too, because a minute later and you probably would have landed yourself face-down on the grimy floor. And of all things he chose to remember, he remembers that you were a deadweight when asleep.

So no, he couldn’t leave you alone.

A good twenty seconds later and he was nestled comfortably by your side, your bodies snuggling into the other like puzzle pieces that were never part of the same puzzle, but fit perfectly together anyway. Your voice was sounding in his head again, sort of like the kind of habit too far instilled in him to kick, and he quirks a smile at how you would have teasingly tugged at his cheeks claiming that he was a big softie. Because you were right—he doesn’t protest; not even an inaudible squawk of indignance, when the tiniest bit of drool slipped from your lips and onto his denim sleeve, instead glimpsing down at your fluttering lashes and concluding that providence worked in mysterious ways.

Your features were akin to something he’d know better than himself, his memory of your expressive eyes, that gentle slope of your nose, and the natural reddish tint to your lips that has never really faded away, even if it has been a year since the sonorous shattering of rose-tinted glass and scathing words that neither of you could ever dream of taking back.

In spite of everything, he finds his fingers instinctively winding themselves in your soft strands, smoothing it down soothingly and methodically; the two of you have enjoyed all too many late night cuddles for him not to commit the motion to muscle memory after all.

And many people have told Yoongi very matter-of-factly that he wasn’t one to smile often, but if they knew him well enough, they would have known how easy it was for him to smile when you were around, so much that Taehyung, that dramatic asshole, would lament that the world was ending whenever he wasn’t wearing his gummy grin around you; the one where his eyes curve up in crescents, and the one you proclaimed to be your favorite.

So frankly, Yoongi doesn’t know what it means when your mere presence (light snoring and all) still manages to elicit a soft smile from him despite the gap of a whole entire year, but he does know that he missed this.

That you-shaped hole in his heart still remains gaping and empty, squeezing ever so occasionally with the hard pangs of longing.

He missed you, and it hurts to miss you.

It hurts to have everything about you seem so incredibly familiar yet unfamiliar all at once, like how he knew that vermillion scarf around your neck was a handmade gift from your grandmother that you cherished with all your heart, yet he has no inkling of how you had torn a hole in its frayed edges, or whether you had cried like a baby when you did.

He knew you adored the comfort of oversized graphic hoodies, yet it felt odd to be staring at the Pokémon print smacked obnoxiously over the front of your slate-grey hoodie, knowing full well that it wasn’t his.

And he knew you were beautiful since way before, yet you look different, with the yellow hues of the flickering subway lights grazing the curves of your cheekbones, contrasting starkly with the pitch black slathered over the slightly misty windows. Different, but effortlessly ethereal nonetheless.

Yoongi shifts a little, and then maybe it was because it has been a while since he’s allowed himself to be consumed by recurring questions all revolving around you, but for a moment, he decides that he’s done suppressing every other thought he has about you on any other day, and could at least give himself the liberty to wonder freely; without pricks of guilt and the multitudes of ‘what ifs’ holding him back.

For as long as the subway kept on moving along the uneven and gravelly tracks, suspending the both of you in what seemed like a slight timeslip away from your otherwise divergent lives, he’d allow himself this much.

He wonders if the sharper definition of your jaw had something to do with that law internship you had been jabbering excitedly about since over a year ago, and as if it was nearly second nature to him (it was), he immediately worries if you’ve been eating right, or if you’ve been skipping meals the way you were accustomed to whenever you get too caught up in all that’s going on around you. You had a tendency to forget things like that, though truthfully, so did Yoongi, because you know the couple’s a match made in heaven when the both of you had multiple dates in a convenience store at ungodly hours in the morning, bonding over missed meals and anxiety-inducing deadlines.

The faded shade of the pretty pink of your lips—somewhere between the color of peach and cherries—makes him ponder if you had moved on, found someone else who made you laugh as wide as you used to, someone who’d take your freezing hands into theirs and emulated the kind of warmth that made you flush all the way to the tips of your ears, or someone who’d smudge your lipstick as easily as he had once did. Of course, Yoongi couldn’t deny that you would deserve that and everything more, but he couldn’t deny the green-eyed monster clawing at his heart either, the jealousy inching into his gut, along with a small sense of defeat and resignation.

And then he muses if it had been a mistake to have had his heart on a platter, to have been so innocently naïve to have his life so tightly intertwined with yours, to have left himself so explicitly vulnerable to losing everything that could have possibly mattered—but the two of you had been young and so stupidly in love. Too young to not flounder around clumsily all whilst pretending you knew what you were doing, too stupidly in love to have learnt that love wasn’t quite about knowing how to protect yourself above all else.

It was almost predictable, what Yoongi thinks about next.

Would it be selfish of him to wish to try again?

The lady over the speaker system robotically announces that the train was approaching its final station for the night—your stop. Huh, he’s missed his stop (around twenty minutes ago actually, but technicalities).

Truth to be told, Yoongi should probably be fretting about how he was going to get home in the middle of the night with public transport now out of the question, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care.

He wasn’t afraid to admit to having tunnel-vision, and all he could see right now was you.

“Hey,” Tentatively, he prods at your shoulder in a near-futile attempt to stir you awake. Tentatively because if everyone thought Yoongi was a force to be reckoned with when woken up, you were something else altogether; he’s learnt his lesson after that one time you had tackled him to the floor in a sleepy haze. Not that it hadn’t ended up in an almost instantaneous makeout and cuddle session, but that was obviously not happening anytime soon.

You do, however, end up jolting back to semi-consciousness. Though it could hardly be attributed to that hesitant poke of Yoongi’s finger, because you had brushed it off irritably (Yoongi would argue that it was adorable, but eh, who was he kidding), only coming to your senses after hearing a raspy voice far too familiar for it to be a coincidence.

“Yoon—,” Your voice emerges soft, diffident, and too guarded for him to even be remotely comfortable, “Yoongi?”

You clamber away from him within a span of the next two seconds, which would have been borderline offensive had he been any other well-intentioned stranger sharing the same commute, but he only shoots you a wry smile. He’s reminded of all the times you’ve woken up on your own accord—always on Sunday mornings, because it was universally known that every Sunday was Sleep-in Sunday—and how you’d always loved to bury yourself back into that corner of his body he has carved out for you.

It was amazing how much difference a year could make; how much distance it could drive between two people who had once been very much in love.

“It’s the last stop,” He finally replies, surprised at how well he could keep the emotion out of his voice. Then again, maybe his inability to emote how he really felt had been one of the biggest downfalls of your relationship, “Come on, let’s go.”

Yoongi rises to his feet first, and offers you a hand that you don’t take immediately.

Even as the two of you stumble onto the platform in frigid silence, he finds himself still hoping for your heart to be beating as thunderously as his own.

***

If anyone were to take one look at the auburn-haired man sitting before you, they’d say he was graceful, and you wouldn’t fault them for admiring the fluidity of his movement, apparent even while performing menial tasks like sipping on his cappuccino. He did dance a lot back in high school, and was good enough to have been scouted by a couple of major talent agencies.

The Hoseok sitting before you, however, spits out his coffee inelegantly, with about as much grace as a duck on stilts.

You roll your eyes and throw him a couple of napkins you had swiped from the countertop.

“You what?” He all but shrieks, a tad too shrill for two interns who were huddled in a corner of the break room despite not actually being on break.

“I saw Yoongi on the subway last night,” Staring down at the pretty swirls of cocoa in your mug, you try your best not to subject yourself to Hoseok’s incredulous gaze, cursing silently to yourself when the words don’t come out as casually as you had hoped they would. Yoongi was always better at putting up a stoic façade, you were mostly in-charge of being the transparent one.

Your best friend responds by quietly dabbing at the sepia stains seeping through the front of his white button-up, and you knew the silence meant that he understood. The relief, the turmoil, the longing— you knew he’d understand it all.

Not a surprise, given the strange nature of your relationship with Hoseok. The two of you had clicked in Chemistry lab back in high school and that was it. Here you were. The pair of you didn’t need daily texts or anything like that to just get each other, and if you really think about it, it was odd how you barely needed to hear a peep from each other throughout the course of an entire week, yet you both knew exactly when to seek each other out for a good chat over coffee (so what if Yoongi had some part to play in your unrivalled love for coffee?). It was safe to say, you hadn’t had much faith in platonic soulmates before meeting the sunshine himself, and it was a pure stroke of serendipity that you had both been accepted as interns at one of the most prestigious law firms around.

“How are you feeling?”

What you love about Hoseok was how he never shies away from talking about things right out in the open, preferring open and honest communication as “functioning adults do”, but you scowl at having to talk about feelings anyway.

But he knows you well enough to glare from across the cafeteria table, gesturing for you to go ahead and blurt out feelings and shit.

You groan, but comply, “I’m scared, Hoseok.”

“That’s not enough for me to work with, and you know it.”

“Fine,” Burying your face in your hands, you somehow choke out the words lodged deep in your throat, and if Hoseok notices the slight tremble of your fingers, he doesn’t comment on it, “It’s been a good year since I’ve last seen his shadow, and now I fall asleep on him on the subway, and suddenly I’m weak in the knees all over again.”

You wished you were lying, but your knees had decided to bail on you the minute you had alighted the train last night, alarming Yoongi and also embarrassing yourself to infinity and beyond.

“I can’t believe it’s been so long and he still has this hold on me that I can’t seem to shake off.”

Hoseok appears to be thoughtful, and that stain marring his crisp white shirt lies forgotten. Typical Hoseok.

“But do you hate it? The way you feel around Min Yoongi,” He presses, and lord knows you hate it when he presses, but then again you know he’s only trying to help you figure things out, albeit in a straightforward manner that makes it all the more painful, but you should at least attempt to be cooperative.

“I don’t—I don’t hate it, I just, hate that I don’t hate it. I hate that I’m not indifferent, and that I’m still so goddamn vulnerable,” The confession spills before you could make yourself shut up; you had that uncanny habit of always saying too much, “I may as well be holding up a sign for him to just break my heart. Again.”

No, that hardly sounds right; you had broken his heart as much as he had broken yours.

“Like how I shattered his,” You add lamely, leaning back abashedly in your seat after your tiny outburst, realizing that your shoulders had been up to your ears the entire time, all too tense for a friendly conversation.

“I think you need closure,” Hoseok finally speaks, in that comforting tone of his that never fails to calm you down, “I’m not pushing you to do anything you don’t want to, but I don’t think avoiding him would be a good idea. If you see him again, that is.”

“If you’re afraid, confront it. There’s probably a good reason why you aren’t able to really move on,” He continues, downing the last of his caffeine.

“I know, but it’s just—easier said than done.”

Setting his porcelain mug down on the rickety plastic table, Hoseok angles his body forward to land a good flick on your forehead. A surprise attack, if you will.

“Idiot, no one ever said heartbreak was easy.”

***

Yoongi was, for lack of a better word, a wreck.

Not the kind that rolled off bed in the late hours of the afternoon, living amongst endless empty piles of what used to be cup ramen, week-old drool still catching on the corner of his lips. The kind that seemed to have switched off all cognitive functions and had chosen to live out the rest of his days as an amorphous lump burrowed in a nest of Star Wars-themed blankets, a pasty hand reaching out every couple hours for a tub of ice cream.

That was the category he had undoubtedly belonged to a good year ago; the immediate aftermath of having lost someone whom he had considered his other half, but Yoongi was better than that now.

Slightly, but it made all the difference.

He was still fully functional, springing awake every morning promptly at 7am, mechanically washing up and getting clothed (he’s been wearing the loose shirt for about five consecutive days now, but if no one had noticed, he sure as hell wasn’t going to call himself out for it). He still reports to the studio diligently, pouring his all into producing for the artists signed onto the label he works for (namely Taehyung, but he doesn’t have to know he’s Yoongi’s favorite), and bantering over beats with his co-producer, Namjoon, but something feels a little off.

“You’re spacing out again,” Namjoon had blurted through a mouthful of pork belly one day, looking at Yoongi as if he’d grown another head.

Yoongi usually gets away with it by mumbling some lameass excuse about how he was thinking about getting a dog (not a complete fib, because maybe a doggy companion would be ideal for his resident feline grump, but it’s definitely not the truth). Deep down he knew no one was going to buy it any longer, and soon even the company’s board director might demand for Yoongi to explain the reason why he kept naming his tracks wrong and sending the demos instead of the finalized studio recordings.

Fortunately (or maybe not, but no one’s really certain at this point), you don’t occupy his thoughts for long, because about a week later, you were occupying a spot in Aisle 14 of that supermarket two streets over. He’d be laughing if he hadn’t been stunned speechless—he’d dreamt up just about a dozen scenarios in which he’d be able to see you again, but none of them had gone like this.

You stare, gaze unnerving and relentless, and he stares back.

Then the two of you simultaneously glance down at what you had both been vying for moments prior: the last box of Lucky Charms on the shelf.

What the actual fuck.

“You hate Lucky Charms,” Quick to recover and looking all too mortified, you gasp, accusation lacing your bewildered tone, and if Yoongi didn’t know better he’d have thought he had sinned against humanity, “What happened?”

You adored it, so I eventually did too.

Was the answer bubbling in his throat, but unfortunately that wasn’t on the list of Appropriate Things to Say to the Ex You’re Still Hung Up Over. That and Yoongi was not one to be this dramatic over cereal.

Yoongi’s wince precedes his own response.

“I was, uh, charmed,” He vocalizes plainly, the words tasting flat even on his tongue, and heart pulsing at about a million beats per minute. Even Yoongi doesn’t produce beats this fast, and that was saying a lot.

In between the uncertainty and the unmistakable twinge of yearning, he had been worried. Would you stiffen and turn away? Or would you plaster on an obligatory smile, act as if you were strangers and pretend to have never felt the soft pressure of his lips on yours, or the warm hold of your hand in his?

The Subway Incident™ (as he had so eloquently termed in his head) had left Yoongi pining for more than just a hurried glance and a quick ‘thank you’, because every cell in his body had been begging to ask you to stay a little longer, but you were gone before he could even swallow the lump in his throat.

And you have always been full of surprises, Yoongi knew as much, but he’s still taken aback when you do neither, a careful smile adorning your lips as you quip back, “Is this the Seokjin effect? I thought you were better than this, Yoongi.”

The curve on his lips mirroring yours comes involuntarily, more of a reflexive action than anything else, “Can’t help it, you know he’s aiming for world dominance with those terrible dad jokes.”

The initial tension that lay thick in the atmosphere has fallen away (no doubt thanks to Seokjin, but he doesn’t have to know that), and Yoongi thinks to himself that it was fascinating how fluidly the both of you could engage in easy conversation, almost like the casual banter could nullify all the hurt and regret still lodged deep in your guarded hearts.

It couldn’t, but it got pretty damned close.

Yoongi was instantly brought back to the very first morning he had spent with you, the sight of you twirling around in his kitchen stinging at the back of his eyelids, and all the fondness and endearment surging in his gut as he had watched you whip out all the culinary expertise you had accumulated over the years to magic out two bowls of cereal. He remembers the salmon-pink coloring your cheeks when he first told you about his innate hatred for Lucky Charms, the faux fury lining your irises when you found out he was more of a Cheerios kind of guy, and the way your blush had spread all the way to the tips of your ears when he had eagerly finished the breakfast you had made, Lucky Charms or not.

One of the many things he loved (loves) about you was how openly you expressed your emotions, the simplistic way he could read you like a book and how honest you were when it came to telling him how you felt. You weren’t good at masking your emotions, and Yoongi would have thought that it would make you more vulnerable than anything; but you use your candor by means of defending yourself, and he had thought you were incredible, since if there was one thing Yoongi couldn’t do to save his life, it was expressing himself.

This makes it all the more painful, now that you’re here and treading very carefully on thin ice. That much was apparent, because Yoongi was so in tune to your emotions and body language that he knew you were being more than a little wary.

“Uhh.”

The pair of you snap your heads towards the source of the wavering voice, eyes landing on a taller (and evidently younger) part-timer hovering awkwardly between the both of you. ‘Jungkook’, his name tag reads, and he looks every bit as confused as Yoongi could imagine.

“You don’t have to fight each other for the cereal or anything,” Jungkook finally croaks out after stretched silence, “We have more in the back.”

Right, to any other onlooker, the two of you would have appeared like two ludicrous idiots having a stare-off over a puny box of fucking Lucky Charms.

“Oh, um, you can have this then,” Eyes comically widened, you loosen your hold on the incriminating object, before turning on your heels to trail after the part-timer, “Bye, Yoongi.”

By the time Yoongi had caught on to all that was going on and had suspended his hand in the air in some sort of half-wave, you were already turning the corner.

He sighs.

***

You don’t know what you’ve done to deserve this, but here you were, stuck in Jimin and Namjoon’s shared apartment with a sleeping Min Yoongi on the couch, dead to the world.

In retrospect, you should have known Jimin had something up his sleeve from the moment he’d invited you over with the promise of pizza. As much of an angel as he was, free food was taking it a bit too far. But you came over anyway; since refusing free food was definitely stretching it too far.

“Please, Y/N, I just need to head over to the company real quick,” He had pleaded, his weapon of choice being the pair of puppy eyes no one could ever say no to without feeling at least some semblance of guilt, “I don’t want to leave Yoongi all alone here when he’s sick.”

“Where’s Namjoon?”

“Locked in the studio with a broken phone. Basically, unreachable.”

“Taehyung?”

“He has a fansign in Hongdae today.”

“Seokjin?”

“He’s out of town for work, remember?”

You had bitten down on your bottom lip hard, contemplative for a beat or two before taking all of two seconds to agree.

And here you were, hugging your knees to your chest with your ass planted firmly on the floor, facing the man-child who still holds your heart captive.

It was a known fact that Yoongi tends to neglect his health, what with his irregular meal times and messed up sleep schedule, so unsurprisingly, his body fails him often. Multiple times over the span of three years you would worry yourself to death, checking up on him every ten minutes and making impromptu runs to the nearest pharmacy (the old man behind the counter recognizes you and makes small talk sometimes).

Needless to say, you knew exactly how his body functioned; what works for him and what doesn’t.

Rather than the typical dose of paracetamol, ice packs do a better job of cooling down his fever, and nothing does the trick better than honey ginger tea for his hoarse throat.

Right, and a feverish Yoongi also made for a delirious Yoongi.

“Is this a dream?” He whispers for no particular reason, having woken up a couple of minutes ago disoriented and confused, eyes glazed over with so much raw emotion it almost hurt to hold his gaze.

“No,” Lifting the soothing drink to his lips, you couldn’t help but smile when he sips at it obediently without putting up a fight as he usually would have, “Not unless you want it to be.”

“You’re not being fair,” Still whispering, he mumbles in your ear, hot breath fanning across your neck, “You’re not supposed to be nice to me. That’s not how—

He chokes.

—breaking up works.”

Ouch.

He was so, so painfully close, so much that you wouldn’t even have to reach over to feel his warmth encase yours, and he was so, so painfully close, that it hurt so much more to have to pull away.

“Yoongi,” Good, your voice came out steady, very much unlike the flurry of whirlwind emotions you were holding back, “You’re not yourself right now. We’ll talk when you’re feeling better.”

“No we won’t. You’ll leave before I can try.”

You grimace, but you did deserve that one.

With Yoongi, the lines are almost always blurred, yet the end had been crystal clear—you had walked away.

Not enough time has passed for you to truly determine if it had been the right choice to make, if it had even been your choice to make, but the beginnings of penitence were starting to ebb away at your heart.

The final year of college had always been the busiest, where everybody was gearing up to face adulthood, to salvage cherished relationships, to get their lives together; and it was a struggle, to have to wonder what kind of person you were trying to be while cramming for finals at 4am in the mornings, or to be sobbing over a mid-life crisis thirty years too early. It’s easy to forget, in the process of finding yourself, the people around you who made you who you were.

As life picked up its pace, the apartment you shared with Yoongi grew emptier by the day. He had been cooped up in his borrowed studio next to campus, busy with trying to perfect his submissions for his final assignments, juggling the plethora of offers from various record labels at the same time. As for you, law school was hardly a walk in a park; you were spending nearly the entire day stuffed into some shabby corner at the campus library, nose far too buried in your books to even notice you were missing all the important calls.

Lunch dates went forgotten, texts went unanswered, and post-its left all around the apartment went unread. The two of you had drifted apart without having realized it, spinning in different orbits altogether, yet still under the illusion that everything would be okay once the final semester had ended, and life could return to normal, with your worlds still revolving solely around each other.

Normal; like groggy mornings flipping burnt pancakes, quiet afternoons spent doing everything and nothing and all that’s in between, and nights used to bicker over your unfounded desires to be the big spoon for once and Yoongi insisting that your ‘shortass’ arms could barely wrap themselves around the circumference of his waist and that he’d crush you as soon as he rolled over (it doesn’t matter, because you end up falling asleep curling into each other).

Maybe, for a little while, everything had been okay, and the two of you had each other, if nothing else.

And then everything was spiraling out of control again, with Yoongi being offered a contract with a record label based halfway across the country, and with you struggling to land yourself an internship with any of the major law firms around. Suddenly, priorities were being shaken up, and the rapid speed of change had taken a toll on the both of you.

Fighting with each other no longer felt as unnatural as before, and words wielded as weapons had easily slipped out into the open when the two of you were buckling under pressure, a routine that better suited strangers than lovers falling into place.

Hurt, you had no longer tried to initiate contact, and in turn, Yoongi no longer tried to initiate conversations.

It felt as if a part of your heart had been wilting with every night spent missing the familiar warmth that had usually enveloped yours.

And then it snapped; everything, that delicate string barely holding the relationship together, the little dance the two of you do around each other, both too afraid to be the one reaching out, and too terrified of being the one to shatter everything.

What made everything a thousand times worse was that you could hardly remember what the fight had been about; only that it carried the weight of months of having shoved the problem aside in favor of denying its foreboding presence, which had manifested into something far bigger than you would have ever imagined.

And then you had walked away, looking back only once before not looking back at all.

In any case, you would be the first to admit that Yoongi’s accusation doesn’t come without reason; and you completely understood where he was coming from.

“I promise, Yoongi,” You breathe softly, pulling up a blanket over his lithe form, “We’ll talk. One day. And you know I don’t break promises.”

“I know,” He responds after a pregnant pause, before adding in a small voice, looking the most sincere you’ve ever seen him, “I really miss you.”

Your fingers had been smoothing his bangs away from his forehead, but you still instantly, only answering moments later, when Yoongi had long succumbed to the sleep weighing on his eyelids.

“I really miss you too.”

***

This was definitely not the college reunion party Taehyung had promised.

If anything, this was reminiscent of those rampant frat parties that Yoongi would much rather leave back in college, where the notorious red solo cups and obnoxious music rightfully belonged.

He should have known Taehyung, being the social butterfly he was, wouldn’t have understood the concept of maximum house capacity, but then again he was the one hosting the party in his penthouse (Taehyung wasn’t their label’s best-selling artist for nothing), so Yoongi supposes he doesn’t have much of a right to complain.

Still, he counts more strangers in his vicinity than actual acquaintances, and more of people he’d caught a glimpse of on campus than people he’d actually given a shit about.

Yoongi doesn’t know why it doesn’t hit him sooner than it should; it was a reunion party, and you had known Taehyung even before you had landed yourself in Yoongi’s psychology elective class. Of course you’d be here.

For a split second, he panics.

Almost immediately after, he finds himself missing you; the way your body molded perfectly against his, the strawberry scent of your shampoo, the softness of your hands and your hair, and it feels like there’s a cavernous hole in his aching heart.

He’s well aware of how you’d taken it upon yourself to babysit his ass a couple of weeks ago; he’d confirmed it with the devil’s spawn Park Jimin himself (their resident self-proclaimed Cupid). He had to, because it had felt too much like a dream he’d never want to wake up from (though when he did wake up, you were gone, leaving him with a note telling him to drink some soup, Min Yoongi, Jesus Christ).

Except now the two of you were stuck in more of a deadlock than before (and Yoongi had thought that it’d be an impossible feat to achieve), hopelessly lost and lacking the direction to find the way back to each other.

Cue the very much welcomed distraction: Taehyung, bless his energetic soul, comes bouncing out of nowhere before Yoongi could further drown himself in more self-pity.

“Yoongi, we got some more booze in the storage room,” The world-class star whips around and yells, airblown chocolate locks following in haste and eyes lit with the kind of high you could really only get at parties, “Would you mind helping to get them?”

If it had been Yoongi on any other night, he would have rolled his eyes and slinked around a little before relenting, but this Yoongi was looking for a distraction, so he might as well (if Taehyung was surprised that Yoongi was giving in this easily, he doesn’t prod further).

So there he was, going on his merry little way to the storage room in the back of the massive kitchen to fetch some good ol’ alcohol.

And there you were, rustling somewhere in the middle of said room, doing the exact same thing.

Yoongi freezes (and it won’t be the first time).

“Y/N?”

Startled, you almost let slip the bottle of vodka, miraculously catching it before it hits the concrete as you angle your vision towards the direction of the storage entrance.

“Yoongi?”

His breath hitches (a little melodramatically, but this time Yoongi thinks a little drama is in order), “What are you doing here?”

You peer up at him curiously, “Taehyung told me to get some booze.”

Oh.

Oh.

The timing’s almost perfect, and even laughable, because soon after, you could both hear Namjoon and Hoseok talking about some idiot leaving the door to the storage room unlocked, because ‘dude, someone could totally raid the place’.

Then the lock clicks into place and to be fair, neither of you were very fast on the uptake, only belatedly realizing that the door locked from the outside a good minute later.

“Oh.”

Kim fucking Taehyung.

***

The two of you had met well into your second semesters in college, and Yoongi had you drenched in a whole cup of bitter Americano before you even knew his name.

In his defense, class had barely begun and you were already slouched in your seat, drooling on the tables and too far gone to even realize that an accidental slip of his hand had emptied the cool liquid atop your head.

Even then, amidst the multitude of shell-shocked gasps of those in the vicinity and Yoongi’s own strangled shriek, you had only woken up lazily, chuckled a little, and excused yourself to the washroom to get yourself cleaned up (only after Yoongi’s frantic attempt at doing so, and by attempt, you mean he had tried to lather on as many napkins as humanely possible).

So yes, that metal door may be firmly locked shut and so maybe you were stuck in a room with the ex-boyfriend you have yet to get over, but you have never been dramatic to begin with, and you weren’t about to start now.

“It’s chill,” You start brightly (or as bright as you could be in a room as dim as this), to which Yoongi arches an eyebrow, “We could call Taehyung, or Hoseok. I’m pretty sure they’d still be sober enough to get us out of here.”

He falters, sheepishness squirming onto his features, “I left my phone upstairs.”

“Mine’s here—

Fishing around in the back pocket of your all-too-skinny jeans in search of the familiar slab of metal, you triumphantly hold it up.

Then your smile drops.

—and it’s dead? What the fuck?”

Yoongi laughs, the sound deep and raspy, and it brings you back to every movie night you’ve ever spent together, binge-watching every comedy you could get your hands on and laughter bouncing off the walls.

You return his laughter with a toothy smile of your own, in spite of yourself.

And then you’re slapped with the poignant reminder that more often than not, Yoongi’s grin makes you smile harder than any comedy could.

Suddenly, the room was suffocating, and the ensuing silence even more so.

“You still wear it,” Abruptly, he speaks, words choppy and voice in vague disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, “The necklace.”

“Our necklace,” You correct softly, but it doesn’t go unheard.

Let’s just say you had a phase back in your second year with Yoongi, in which you were moderately (and by moderately, you meant tremendously) obsessed with matching everything; matching ugly sweaters, matching shoes, matching lockscreens, for crying out loud. Eventually, Yoongi came through with matching delicate chains on your second anniversary, joking about them being three dollars while insisting that he was not blushing (he was).

The pendants were nothing fancy; just the both of your initials swinging daintily on the thin strings of silver, but its simplicity was beautiful, and you couldn’t have asked for more.

And you had tried, Lord knows you had really tried, to toss it aside and move onto the next chapter of your life, one with the lingering absence of Min Yoongi and his gummy smiles, but you couldn’t quite bear to undo the clasp, nor could you stand having the metallic chain fall apart and have it look like a diamond which had lost its shine. Hoseok had protested otherwise, saying that it could hardly make it easier for you to forget, but as much as you had believed him (Hoseok was never wrong), you had never actually got around to ripping out that piece of your heart that the necklace held.

The truth hurts, but the truth was that you had never really stopped hoping, and the necklace still hung hopefully around your neck.

Routine was busy, hectic even; sure the internship already has you swamped with work as it was, but you needed to somehow sustain yourself, and that part-time job down at the library made sure to always keep you on your feet and on the go.

And when you’re alone, you find yourself missing those slender fingers threading through your hair, and reassuring cuddles telepathically letting you know that it’ll all be okay, and one day your hard work will all pay off and you’d be happy.

But that’s not the only time you spend missing Yoongi, because love, as you’ve later learnt, wasn’t to build an entire world around each other, but to make sure the other fit seamlessly in the world you built together.

You find yourself missing him when you’re on a coffee run, reminded of how he likes his coffee bitter in the mornings and saccharine by night. Or when you pet that stray cat, the one who feigns insouciance when you approach but purrs traitorously when you give him belly rubs.

You miss him even now, and he’s standing right here.

“You’re wearing it too,” Almost shyly, you point it out, finger jabbing harmlessly at his chest, “You miss me too, Min Yoongi, and don’t even think about denying it.”

This was it; neither of you could skirt around the topic any longer, and this conversation was as good a start as any.

“I wasn’t thinking about denying it,” Yoongi admits, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and you just wanted to wipe any notion of despondency from his features.

Though, his honesty knocks you slightly off balance for a little bit, and your heart rate nearly ascends higher than fucking Everest.

“What are you thinking about, Yoongi?”

It comes out barely a whisper.

“You.”

Huffing, you blow a strand of stray hair from your face.

“And how much I’ve missed you, how it’s ridiculously unreal that you’re here right now, how one year spent without you is a year too long.”

He closes the distance with every pause, steps uncertain but determined, “And I was wondering if you would have felt the same.”

One step closer, and there would be no distance at all.

“And yeah, okay, maybe I was thinking about how much I wanted to kiss you.”

You roll your eyes; trust Min Yoongi to ruin the moment.

But screw it all anyway, to the moon and back.

It’s been a long time, but your body remembers everything, and reaching up to meet his lips seemed nearly instinctual. And the kiss was slow and hesitant, tasting of heartbreaks and fear, before melting into grounded certainty and the kind of want that burns you from the inside out.

He tastes like home.

It feels like ages before the two of you pull apart, breathless, with you searching his eyes carefully, desperately, hopefully.

And that was the thing about Yoongi; he had always understood.

“Do you think we’d be okay?” Sighing contentedly, he nudges his forehead against yours, voice barely audible.

“No,” You laugh, pulling him closer, “But we’ll keep trying, and that’s what matters.”

And maybe, with Yoongi, the lines would always be blurred, and the two of you were destined to stumble around each other, too clumsy to get your feelings across but too stubborn to give up entirely, and that’ll be okay.

Because clarity was in the way he looks at you in a room full of people as if you were the only one he could ever see, and in the way you smile up at him as if he held the entire galaxy in his eyes.

And that was more than enough.

a/n: me: has 139220 wips also me: gets stuck at all 139220 wips and starts a new fic

pls forgive me for not having updated for nearly two months! pinky promise i’m trying really hard but the words aren’t coming out right and i hadn’t wanted to post anything that would potentially be a letdown to you guys, so this is a peace offering of sorts (even if it’s entirely self-indulgent), to thank all of you for putting up with my slow ass afhhdjskdhf.

regardless, i hope yall liked this (hmu with feedback anytime!!)

and to @studying-brb happy birthday loser i kind of love you i guess //shrugs

[lubdubsworld]

Fibonacci

Chapter 11

"Stop right there.!!"

Jamie freezes in the middle of the hallways, clutching her backpack to her chest in shock. She shuts her eyes in defeat. The last person she wants to get caught by is JB or Jinyoung. That voice was definitely the GOT7 leader and he sounds less than thrilled to see her. Not that she blames him. It's a little past ten and she has no business wandering around the company. She considers lying her way out of this little trouble but decides against it.

"I'm going out." she says stubbornly and he glares harder.

"I've been noticing. I wanted to stop you a long time back but Jackson kept putting it off. Well, now I've had enough! where the hell are you sneaking off to every night?" He snaps and she flinches.

"I...I go to see someone." she says softly.

He stares at her.

"Namja? A man...?" He prompts and she bites her lips in contemplation. Get it over with, she tells herself.

"Yes. I.. he's...a friend." she finishes .

"Just a friend?"

"Yes." But we kiss.

"You expect me to believe that , when I see you sneaking out for three or four hours every fucking  night." he growls and Jamie feels a little guilty.

But it's not like she has a choice. Yoongi would be on tour soon and the only time they got together was when he came back after his schedules which is usually late at night. And even then, most days, they didn't speak or even kiss. She just stays up with him in the recording room, Yoongi laying down on her lap while she threads her fingers through his hair and sings a bit for him. He sleeps well for the three or four hours that she is there and she knows that he enjoys the sound of her soft voice singing for him. Even if he doesn't say it out loud.

She feels grounded now, just seeing him everyday, touching him and most nights she can't fall asleep afraid that she'll wake and find she's dreamt the whole thing.

She can't stop now.

"I don't expect you to believe or suspect me. I just..I hope you'll trust me and let me make my own choices." she says softly and JB scoffs.

"Sure. As long as those choices don't involve you getting kicked out of the company for immoral behaviour. " JB says sternly and she keeps quiet. He has a point. She's not naive. Everytime she goes out to meet Yoongi she's risking a lot.

Jb sighs and holds a hand out for her to take.

Jamie doesn't take it though. She's not sure why but she thinks she isn't ready to take anyone's hand but Yoongi's.

"Listen, i'm not an idiot . i know you're dating Jimin but... just think about it. If it becomes public news , who do you think is going to get the backlash. Certainly not the golden boy. And also, whatever they say, he is friends with Suga and Rapmon and well...i'm not really sure they're the kind of guys you should be getting involved with." JB says nervously and Jamie glares at him.

"I'm not dating Jimin. I'm not dating anyone. I'm just meeting a friend that I like a lot." and am in love with.  

"and this friend, he's okay with you risking everything just to meet him for a couple of hours." No, I have to fight him everyday. But I don't mind. Because I know he wants to see me as much I want to see him.

"Oppa, i know you mean well...but..this is important. I'm sorry you don't approve but I can't stop seeing him.." she says firmly, turning around and stalking off. She feels bad, hurt and awful for talking to her oppa like that, but..it's late. She only has a handful of days left before he leaves to Japan to promote his video. And then she wouldn't be able to see him for a long , long time.

"So, you guys are dating?" Rapmon says casually and Yoongi gives him a level stare.

"No. Do you see me holding hands, sneaking kisses or missing schedules because I'm skipping away to be romantic with her? What we are doing is...getting to know each other. We're not ready to date yet." He says quietly. Rapmon hesitates and then finally sighs.

"Okay. If you must know, jimin's ...just worried that you'll...I don't know....force her to...well, he's just worried that she's still quite young. She's only twenty and she doesn't really know what she's doing so you should be a bit careful with her." Rapmon finishes awkwardly and yoongi goes over the scattered phrases , finally understanding what the other was trying to say.

It amuses him but angers him at the same time.

"You can tell Jimin that my sex life is none of his business. I'm not some perverted rapist. " He says blandly and Rapmon has the good grace to look ashamed.

"Jiminie's a good kid...he just..."

"He's not a kid, Namjoon. He's old enbought to understand that I'm not some kind of monster to go around breaking little girls." He says and the door swings open just then and Jimin steps in. Rapmon immediately moves out and yoongi stares at hi friend evenly.

"Are you in love with her?" Jimin asks finally and Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

"I could say yes, if it makes you feel better." He says finally.

Jimin looks surprised and then bites his lips.

"I... just...hyung you shouldn't be doing this if you aren't serious about her." He says softly.

"Doing what, Jiminie? What exactly do you think I'm doing to your precious namesake?" Yoongi leans forward, resting his face in the v of his linked fingers. Jimin glares at him.

"Hyung, she's a nice girl...Don't hurt her." He says quietly.

Yoongi sighs and shakes her head.

"If only life was that easy. I can't tell you I'll never hurt her, Jimin, because i know that's not how relationships work. There's always pain and there's always heartbreak. You and I, we make a living out of heartbreak don't we? If there isn't hurt, we wouldn't have a job..." He smiles .

Jimin scoffs.

"Cut the bullshit, hyung. You knew how I felt about her. You knew I liked her...Then why would you..."

"I'm sorry, Jimin. I just...I don't know what else to tell you." Its all he says but there's a lot going on inside his head right now.

I like Jamie very much. I promise you I'll try my best not to hurt her. I know you probably like her a lot more than I do. Hell, you may probably even treat her a lot better than I ever could. You know hyung. I'm not good at being romantic and I'm certainly not good at treating women right. I'll probably make a lot of mistakes. But I do want to try. I want to try to treat her right. I want to try to listen to her. Try to open up to her. It's not going to happen at once, is it ?I know but I hope that someday I'll be able to answer your question without thinking. Maybe someday, I'll just respond that yes, I love her. Yes, I won't hurt her. Yes, I'll make her happy.

"There's something I've been thinking about." Yoongi says quietly, taking a sip of water. Jamie feels nervousness bubble up inside her. She's always scared he's going to say they aren't working out. It's his last day in Korea. He's flying to Japan and afterwards it's just going to be two months of tours and concerts. She wouldn't be able to see him . It's alright, Jamie has her own album to start working on. She thinks she can survive on video chats and phone calls.

She's survived on a lot less for a lot longer.

they're both sitting in his room in the dorm, Suga on the chair and Jamie on his bed, fiddling nervously with the tassels at the end of her skirt. The rest of Bangtan is out on a schedule and Namjoon is in his room, fast asleep. Their flight to Japan leaves in twenty-two hours and Jamie knows she should probably leave. Give him time to pack and take some rest.

"What is it?" she asks instead. Her back hurts a bit because she's sitting on the bed and there's no support. She could climb on the bed and lean on the wall but for some reason, she's just too shy to do it in front of him. She's not sure she wants him to see her crawling on his bed.

He looks a bit torn and finally pulls out a few flyers. She stares at them in shock when he hands them to her. They're shots of an apartment, empty but furnished. It looks new and bright. Not too big , just a couple of rooms and a living space and a kitchen. She stares at it, not at all sure what he's saying.

"Last year, I was planning on moving out of the dorm and I ...well...I bought this place. It's in one of those celebrity buildings. Most of the others are budding actors or rookies so there's not a lot of Paparazzi trouble. But I can't really leave my members , at least not till we become more established. I still do most of my work in the recording room here , so I won't be spending a lot of time there, anyway." He says with a shrug and she continues to stare at him, confused.

"So...?" She asks.

"Would you like to move in there?" He says finally and her jaw almost hits the floor.

"Are you...Are you asking me to move in with you?" She stares at him in shock, heart pounding so loud, she thinks it's going to pound right out of her ribcage.

He looks at her for a few seconds and she sort of freezes when he grins wide, his smile literally knocking the breath out of her because it's that gorgeous. Then he laughs and shakes his head. She feels blissed out happy. Min Yoongi smiling is the most beautiful sight on the planet, she thinks giddily.

"I just told You I won't be moving in with you. I wanted to offer you the place because it's close to your company and you won't have to risk getting caught everytime you come to meet me. It would be nice to have a nice neutral place to stay at, don't you think?" He shrugs and she hesitates.

"I'm not sure I like this arrangement. "

He nods.

"You're free to refuse , of course. I just thought it might be a good idea. I've installed a recording studio there and well, you can work on your songs as well, if you like." He says with a smile.

She hesitates.

"But if you aren't there...." she says nervously.

"I'll be there. Anytime I have time off, I'll be there." He says softly.

Doing what she wonders suddenly. She's not sure how to say it but she feels a bit sad that he doesn't want to take their relationship forward, physically. It's been three months already and now he won't be around for another two months. She knows he must at least think about sleeping with her. But she's just too shy to voice her thoughts out because she's scared it might turn him off.

He grins and moves to sit next to her on the bed, wrapping and arm around her shoulder. She leans a bit against his strong frame. He's solid and warm against her and she lightly touches the knee of his blue jeans.

"I could stay over, tonight." she suggests casually and he stares down at her.

"Do you want to?" He asks her after a pause.

She nods rather quickly and he grins and falls back on the bed, moving to the side closer to the wall and patting the space next to him.

"Climb in then." he shrugs casually. She just sits there feeling unaccountably awkward while he just lounges about completely at peace with his body. Jamie feels clumsy and plump and downright shabby next to his milky white perfection. why is she so handsome? Oh, God. she's going to combust on the spot.

He lightly circles her wrist with his hand and gives it a sharp yank.

She tumbles down on top of him in shock, face inches from his and body pressed right against his chest. His hands slip down, lightly grabbing her waist and pulling her up, simultaneously moving himself to a sitting position. A second later she's in his lap, straddling his waist and staring him right in the eye. He looks thoughtful and lightly slips a hand up her shirt, tracing the bare skin of her back while she concentrates on breathing and not fainting dead away. it's amazing, the effect he has on her, even though it's hardly the first time they've been kissing.

"I was wondering, when exactly did we meet six years ago?" He says softly and she tries to gather her thoughts.

"At the JYP office. You were there to see the CEO. You..uh.. gave me your number and told me to look you up when I grew up. " She smiles at the often recalled memory and he hums, bending down and kissing the edge of her collarbone lightly.

"Really? I wish I remember." He says regretfully.

"I think I feel in love with you , that day."

"You're joking. " He stares at her in disbelief.

"No. In fact, I was always a bit doubtful on whether I made the right choice, joining JYP. But then, when i saw you there on that evening, a part of me just knew that I was meant to meet you that day. It was fate. I was meant to meet you, see you and just fall in love with you on that December night. Over the years anytime I was frustrated. Anytime I thought of quitting, I'd always tell myself that if I left this world I'd never see you again. It was a sort of a motivation for me... I always worked hard because I wanted to be good enough for you."

He stares at her for a few long seconds, lightly rubbing his thumb across her lower lips.

"I guess it's my turn then?" He whispers.

"Your turn?" she asks, confused.

"My turn to work hard. So I can be good enough for you." he grins and she doesn't know if he's teasing or not. But his words sort of send warmth through her body and she melts into his arms.

He sucks the sensitive skin at the juncture of her throat and her neck and bites down on it gently making her grip his shoulders hard, unintentionally grinding down on his crotch. A strangled moan escapes him as he quickly stills her hips and pulls away laughing.

"Easy, baby girl. You don't want to start something dangerous right now do you." He whispers and there's something different in his tone. She catches the desire in his eye and that's all the encouragement she needs really.

"Can we have sex tonight?" She says before she can fully process the thought and filter it off the way she's supposed. The words just literally fall off her tongue and for the first time since she's known him , Min Yoongi looks completely stunned.

He just gapes at her for a second.

"I..I..just.. what did you just say?" He croaks out.

In for a penny, In for a pound.

"We could...I mean... if you want to.." she stammers . He looks like he's going to agree and her entire body goes hot as he leans forward.

"YAH MIN YOONGI GENIUS JAJJANG MYUN BOONG BOONG....!!!! WHERE ARE YOU??!!!"

Jin's voice pretty much resonates through the room and Jamie jumps off his lap like a scalded cat. She lands on the chair and crosses her legs, just as Yoongi grabs a pillow to cover his crotch. The door swings open and Jin stands in the doorway, looking murderous. He glares between the pair of them and Jamie feels like a teenager caught necking in her room. Jin looks hilariously stern as he stares at Yoongi.

"We should get packing? Shouldn't you be sending Jamie back?" He says suspiciously.

"Yes. Hyung..just..let me tell her goodbye. "

Jin looks like he;d rather not leave but finally does. Yoongi gives her a bright smile and shakes his head.

"Rain check on that...question you just asked?>' he winks and she laughs embarassedly.

"Come home safe, Oppa. I'll be cheering you on. I'll be waiting for you." She says softly and for a second something painful crosses his features. Then he grins.

"And, I'll try to think of you. Often." He says stiltedly and she smiles.

It's such a non romantic way to put it, she thinks.

It's such a 'Yoongi' way to put it.

And she loves him all the more for it.