#bts yoongi angst scenario
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The Consequences of Fucking Up
âYour break up was messy and painful. All you want to do is to forget about him. His friends, who ever since you ended it with Yoongi see you as their bullying target, make sure that the memory of him stays fresh in your mind however, haunting you day by fucking day. While Yoongi makes it seem as if he gives no fuck about your situation. Until one night he is in front of your door. Drunk and fucking regretful.â
âĽď¸ Requested by anonie âĽď¸
Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi x f.Reader
Genre: Exes!AU, Messy Break-Up!AU, Crime!AU, Cop!AU, Hurt and Comfort, Angst, Smut, a lil bit of Fluff
Wordcount: 15.9k
Warnings: lowkey they're bad for each other, but also somehow so right?, OC is such a people hater, I feel like she has mental health issues which are never addressed tbfh, she is quite the pessimist, unhealthy consumption of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes & weed (listen. i hate smoking and stand by that but it sadly fits their characters), Yoongi is kinda apathetic and cold, or is he??, IS HE???, implied violence and murder, corrupt cops & lawyers, policeman!Jungkook makes an appearance and he stole my heart tbfh :(, he is so cute that i almost sobbed, drugdealer!Hoseok makes an appearance too, there is also detective!Namjoon and smuggler!Taehyung because I love this vibe :); abuse of power, fuck Yoongi just fuck he is so ngngn, slightly protective & possessive!Yoongi, intoxicated sex, desperate!Yoongi, no foreplay, but she is not uncomfortable, choking (m.receiving), rough desperate sex, position change from sex against a sofa to missionary on said sofa, a lil bit of strength kink hihi, he cums too soon, dirty talk, tears :'), he is actually so emotional during the sex, the ending is so cheesy and cute <3, Spoiler: he is willing to change!! and he is a cutie actually, jsjsjsj sorry but i love yoongi a lot :(
Disclaimer: This is purely fiction and isn't like my usual stories. It does not portray how the boys actually are and it is not how I see them. This is a work of fiction with no correlation to real life. The type of relationships depicted in this story are far from how I normally portray my relationships and I do not advertise for such relationhips or staying in such relationships. This story is supposed to be twisted and dark & so are the relationships in it, as well as the characters. You have been warned. If you decide to continue reading, then it is out of your own free will.
a/n: now that the disclaimer is out of the way i can officially bark because woof woof fuckkcc anonie thank you so much for this idea. i had the worst and best time writing this story like nfnfnf her mental state was definitely very difficult to write, but their tension just got to me. i made the ending as cute and fluffy as possible just as you wanted hihi <3 also i love villian characters who would set the whole world on fire just to prove their dedication :) i hope this is what you imagined, because i kinda made it longer and with more plot than i planned to at first sjjsjs i couldn't be stopped jsjsj ALSO this is giving me the perfect opportunity to finally write a Kook request I got years ago ohoho
Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.
âCareful, itâs just meâ, he lulls.
âGet the fuck out of my houseâ, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes.Â
Three months prior
âSo youâre breaking up with me?â he asks, gawking at you with widened eyes. He looks more surprised than he does hurt. Probably because it hasnât actually sunk in yet.
âI am.â
âNo, youâre not.â He laughs because he never takes anything seriously.
âYes. I am.â
âToo bad, I wonât act like it.â
âYeah, you will.â
He laughs, âyouâve had better jokes, but I still admire the commitment.â
âYou see. Thatâs the problem with you. Everythingâs a fucking joke to you.â
He is smiling. It reaches his eyes.
âYour job, your men. Me. Everythingâs a fucking joke to you. If you would have taken Sukunaâs thread seriously, Soojin would still be alive. If you didnât fucking insult Miss Mei, you wouldnât have lost twenty thousand in drugs and you wouldnât have to fucking kiss asses like a beggar.â
His smile doesnât reach his eyes anymore.
âIf you would have put any kind of effort into me, I wouldnât be leaving now. You take everything as a joke, while in reality you are the biggest joke here.â
His smile falls. You stood up and that actually scared him.Â
âWait baby, wait. Princess, we can talk about thisâ, he argues, closing the distance with his arms stretched open. âIâll fix the issue with Miss Mei, I promise.â
âDoesnât matter. I��m done talking. Soojin died because of your recklessness.âÂ
Yoongi touches your hands. He holds them, clutches them. You have never felt such a touch from him before. As if he actually loved you.Â
âWhat can I do? Tell me and Iâll do itâ, he offers, caressing your knuckles.Â
This is what you craved for months. Affection. Attention. You were always a passing thought to him. Something to fuck and possess. Something low maintenance like all his other shit. His current touch almost makes you want to stay because for the briefest moment, your breaking heart wants to believe that he finally changed.Â
But you know better. He doesnât take you seriously and if you stay, you will one day end up like Soojin. Metaphorically or not, you will end up dead because of him.Â
âThere is nothing you can do. Sorry.â
You slip out of his touch.
âBabyâ, Yoongi follows you with panicked eyes, trying to touch you again.
âGoodbye, Min Yoongi.â
âPlease donât leave me.â
You close the door and run, finally letting the tears escape.Â
You love him.
You always have and perhaps always will.Â
You donât want to leave, but know that staying will kill you.Â
One week passes. You spent it holed up in your small, shitty apartment, crying your heart out. Yoongi was the best and worst thing that ever happened to you and you miss him. You hate that you miss him. Because he was way worse than he was good.Â
He was never abusive. He was a violent man to anyone but you. You, he always touched with utmost care. At you, he never screamed. But he was still not good. He was cold and apathetic at times, then terribly affectionate at others, only to become cold again. And you couldnât take it anymore.Â
You wouldnât have left your apartment today if your fridge hadnât been empty. It wasnât always empty, but sadly enough, groceries donât magically appear. Not even for an outlaw such as yourself.
The city is busy. The smell of street food, smog and body odor poisons the air. The weather is hot these days and people started sweating more. You canât stand people. You pull the mask tighter around your nose, hoping to shield the stench this way.Â
You greet the clerk when you enter the shop, lowering your mask. It smells of grocery store in here. Fresh bread, produce and clean floors. Itâs a welcome change to the rancid outside.
You spent fourty minutes in the shop and pay with cash. You never pay with card because it can be traced. Someone like you canât risk being found.Â
âSee youâ, you say your goodbyes and leave the store. You plan on coming back in three weeks. You canât stand being outside often.
The door just about closed behind you and then someone jumps you. Three people to be more exact. Two hold your arms while one rips the bags out of your hands.Â
âLet go! Hey, you fuckers!â you fight them off instantly, surprised at how easily it is to do. Way too easy. They let go of you as quickly as they grabbed you. At first you think that nothing happened, until you notice your grocery bags in one of the guysâ hands. They stole your stuff!
âYou motherfuckers! Get back here! Theyâre mine!âÂ
They run away, flipping you off over their shoulders.
You sprint after them, but before you reach them, they jump onto a tuk tuk and drive off, finally showing you their faces. Those were some of Yoongiâs underlings.
âWhat the fuck?â You stumble back in disbelief. âDid they fucking steal my food? What the fuckâs happening?âÂ
It takes you a while before you finally come to the conclusion that you have to buy everything they stole a second time. And you do. And nobody jumps you. And you go home, make yourself shitty dinner and drink a bottle of soju all by yourself. It isnât a good night. Itâs a shit night. But then. All your nights have been shit for years.
You met Yoongi four years ago. It correlates with when your shit nights began. Okay, you are being unfair. The first two years with him were paradise and your nights were wonderful. You were an aspiring lawyer, while he was in the midst of getting a promotion to superintendent. You supported each otherâs dreams, motivated each other and celebrated when your goals were achieved. Then the truth spilled out. The man you knew to love turned out to be a lie. Why you never left, you do not know. He gave you the chance to leave, but you didnât. You made yourself low maintenance to him and your nights became shit. He pretended to be a proper policeman by day while you pretended to be a proper lawyer and at night he became what he hunted by day while you tried to hide whatever evidence about him flooded into the offices. You hated it at first, then loved it, then lost your job because of it and became dependent on him and started to hate it again. Well, at least working for him. You liked everything else. Having to work in the system and seeing how corrupt even the most eligible politicians or CEOs truly are, made you realise that perhaps stealing from them isnât as bad as it first sounded. You liked being on the dark side of the law because the bright side was just as twisted. You just simply started to hate that it means being close to Yoongi.
It took Soojinâs death to finally make you realise that staying with him will end in your death as well. And so you finally left.
You will start a new life, make up a new identity, move to a different country and forget about him. Maybe. Who knows. You havenât decided yet.
A letter comes five days after the grocery store incident. It is stuffed into an unsealed envelope and clearly delivered by the person who wrote it. You open it, feeling shit instantly. Whoever wrote this letter is calling you the most hurtful of names, telling you personal stuff which truly hurts. You throw it away and go back inside, opening a bottle of soju. It wasnât Yoongiâs handwriting, but somehow you still think that it is connected to him. You try not to let it get to you, but you still end up rotting away in your bed for the rest of the week only leaving it to piss, shit and eat.Â
The next week your packages are missing. You never get them back. The culprit is never found. You curse the sky, knowing that it was fruitless. Yet again, you think that it was connected to him. To Yoongi, the man you wanted to forget, but who keeps haunting you day by day.
The city at night is a dangerous place. If you donât know where to walk, you could find yourself in a rather messy situation. Especially as a woman. You are glad that most women are clever enough to stay at home once darkness greets the streets. Most women donât know how to defend themselves though. Properly and without the law in mind. You killed before. Once. It was self defence. Yoongi took care of the body, you never found out what happened to it. He stayed with you the night it happened, even let you cry in his arms. He was gone the next day and never spoke of it again.
You clutch the big knife tightly in your bag, scanning the streets constantly. It isnât far anymore until you are home. Hopefully the heavy rain clouds stay dry until you get there. You arenât in the mood to get wet. Not tonight. You would have never left if you hadnât ran out of fucking cigarettes. The kiosk was closed, so the journey was useless. Thunder announces that the clouds arenât your friends. Mere seconds later, it starts pouring.
âFucking shit, I hate this city.â
Rain in this city is always dirty and never really cold. You take it as a bad sign. Rain shouldnât be warm. Not always, not constantly. Somethingâs wrong with this city. Something is rotting slowly until one day it will consume everything in its wake. You hope to have left before it can wake up.
The way home is too long for the amount of dirty rain it pours. You find refuge under a shop sign. There are no rooftops or canopies in sight and the only thing close to a safe place was the stupid restaurant sign. Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in bright red letters. The place is stuffed with people and the smell of beef broth mixes with the dirty scent of rain. You grind your teeth. What a shitty situation you find yourself in. You prefer being outside though. You know that once inside, the restaurant would be hot and stink of digested booze and body odor. You take getting wet over breathing in peopleâs air.
Except that you donât really stay wet for long. The distinct sound of rain hitting an umbrella meets your ears. You look up. Black. You look to the side at the person holding it. Yoongi. Your stomach twists, your heart skips a beat. He is wearing a suit tonight. Black with a black tie. His hair is slicked back. He used makeup to conceal the scar running all the way from his forehead over his eye and down half his cheek. This is his work outfit. His police chief outfit. Yes. He is a chief these days.
Your instincts tell you to leave without saying anything, but itâs been six weeks since the breakup and you still love him. You hate that you do, but canât stop staring at his face. He has his brows raised in a nonchalant way as he inspects the heavy rain. He doesnât grant you eye contact, but holds the umbrella in a way which lets you know that he came out here after seeing you. His left shoulder is getting wet, while you stay dry completely.
âWhat are you doing here?â you hear yourself ask him.
âWork dinner. I have to pay âcause Iâm the boss and all that shit. Theyâre eating like greedy pigsâ, he scoffs, âfucking assholes.â
âI see.â
âYou?âÂ
âBuying smokes.â
He finally looks at you, studying from head to toe.
âThe kiosk was closedâ, you answer his question about your cigarettesâ whereabouts before he can ask it.
âI thought you quit.â
âSome things happened which made me start again.â
âMhmâ, he hums and takes out a packet of cigarettes from the inside of his suit jacket. He lights himself one and puts the packet away again, leaving you to stare at the smoke he blows out through his nose.
He isnât actually serious, is he? It is like he is mocking you. It is already bad enough that he sends his stupid goons to terrorise you, now he is mocking you as well? You hate that you still love him.
You stay like this for a while. You staring at him while he holds the umbrella for you and smokes. You donât know why you stay. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much.
Yoongi takes a long drag of the cigarette and exhales the smoke in an almost sigh-like breath. He lifts the cigarette, holding it closer to you.
âWhat?â you sound disbelieved, scandalised even.
He doesnât say anything. He just shows you the cigarette as his eyes follow the endless rain. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much. But you still take the cigarette and put your lips right where he had hisâ moments before. But you still smoke it as if it was the most normal thing to do. Because it once was. You and he shared many smokes in the past. It was once the most sensual, erotic thing to do between you and him. Barely clothed, intoxicated minds and high on the other, you often shared a joint as you got each other off. Fuck, it was always so fucking orgasmic to be with him that way.
âWanna grab a bite?â he offers, pointing at the restaurant behind him, âone more mouth to feed isnât gonna ruin me.â
You are hungry. You havenât had a proper meal in weeks. Instant ramen, frozen food and snacks is all your body has to run on. You have no energy to cook and with how shitty you eat, it is a vicious cycle. Shitty food gives little energy, you already have low energy. The motivation to properly cook grows lower and lower each day. You dread the day you have only enough energy left to open a package of chips and eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
âIâm not hungry.â
He glances at you. He knows that you are lying. Your eyes have greyed in starvation. He almost rips the cigarette out of your fingers and smokes it angrily, huffing out the smoke.Â
âIâm offeringâ, he hisses.
âAnd Iâm declining. I can take care of myselfâ, you throw back and rip the cigarette from his grasp to smoke it angrily.Â
You may be starving, but you will be damned if you make yourself dependent on him again. You left him to finally prove to yourself that you can take care of yourself. You donât need his help. Not anymore.Â
You take another deep drag, then hand the cigarette to him. He smokes it, glaring at you. You know that your stubbornness angers him.
âTell your men to stop pestering meâ, you say into the tense silence.Â
He looks over his shoulder at his police team. They are too drunk and caught in conversation to pay their boss any mind.
âTheyâre insideâ, he says.
âYou know I donât mean them. Tell your other men to stop annoying me.â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â
âYes. You do.â It is your turn to smoke. âIt all started when they stole my groceries, but itâs been getting childish. My packages keep getting stolen, my internet cuts off, I find letters in my mail. Letters saying awful things about me. Itâs getting ridiculous. Tell your men to stop terrorising me.â
âStolen packages?â He takes the cigarette from you, brushing his fingers against yours as he does. The touch feels like the sweetest poison on your skin. âThis doesnât sound like my problem to solve. Go to the police.â
âAre you serious?âÂ
He inhales, exhales the smoke into your face. You should be disgusted by it, but almost huff it in like an addict. Yoongi watches your lids lower and your chest raise in a greedy breath, finding it hard not to stare at your lips as he hands you the cigarette. You smoke it. His eyes are still on your lips, glued to the shape of them as his throat runs dry.
âVery seriousâ, he rasps.
âYou are the policeâ, you throw back in disbelief, exhaling the smoke into his face that way.
âMhm yeah, I guess I am.â He takes the cigarette, smoking it with half lidded eyes. He exhales, handing you the cigarette. âWhen are you going to come home again?â he asks, looking back at the rain.
You almost choke on the smoke, exhaling it in a cough. Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
âYour farce is getting ridiculousâ, he says coldly.
âMy farce?â
This break up wasnât the first break up you and he went through. You left many times before, always thinking that you were finally strong enough to forget him only to come crawling back again. You donât blame him for doubting that this time will be different, but you still canât stop yourself from getting angry.
âDid you even hear what I said?â
âI did. Go to the police. I have nothing to do with it.â
You drop the half-finished cigarette. It dies in the puddle on the ground.
âI was smoking thisâ, he says dryly, âbesides, donât litter.â
âPick it up yourself if you care so much about these dirty ass streetsâ, you spit and turn to leave. You take getting wet over being with him any longer.
Yoongi watches you leave, shakes his head in disbelief and bends down to pick up the cigarette. He wonât run after you because you will come crawling back eventually. You always do.
âSir?âÂ
He turns his head. One of his officers. He is young and with sparkles of big dreams in his eyes. Yoongi pities him. This city is going to chew him up until there is nothing left of him. He had the same dreams once and knows what the viper nest, which is the justice system, is going to do to him.Â
âWhat do you want?â he asks him dryly, rolling the wet cigarette between his fingers.
âWho did you talk to right now?â
âJust someone important to me.â
âShouldnât we escort her home? Itâs raining and there could be criminals on the streets. Itâs too dangerous for a woman to be alone.â
âSheâll get home safely.â
âAre you sure, Sir? I stayed sober for cases like these. I could get the car right away.â
âYouâre sober?â
âYes, Sir.â
âBut itâs a work dinner. Youâve been off work for hours.â
The young officer salutes, âI know, Sir but a policeman shouldnât slack, Sir.â
Yoongi feels deep pity for the young man. He is so motivated, so proper and full of good spirit. Waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him.
He pats him on the shoulder.
âYouâre a good person, Jeonâ, he says and swerves past him to get back inside.Â
The young officer follows him with pride glimmering in his innocent eyes. Yes, waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him.Â
Yoongi wasnât always living two lives. He was like his young officer once. Full of dreams and motivation. He dreamed of using his powers to do good, to help those who needed it most and then he woke up. He watched politicians and men in power ruin, rape and kill the powerless without ever getting punished for it. He felt helpless. If even someone in his position canât change the world, then who will? His criminal work was honourable once. He slipped evidence money under the table to hand out to the powerless, he let proof disappear for people doing crimes out of desperation. One time he was supposed to put a starving mother behind bars because she stole diapers for her babies. Yoongi couldnât do it and so he disobeyed the law for these kinds of people.
But then his criminal work became less about the powerless and more about him. Making money the illegal way was easy and it is fucking addicting. Especially when he could make sure that evidence about him never reached the higher ups. Yoongi fucking loved the sudden power he possessed and he was too blinded by it to see that he became exactly what drove him to criminality in the first place.
Yoongi tells his officer to check up on your place that night. The young officer rings the doorbell like he was told to do.
You open it, swaying from intoxication as you do. The stench of digested booze wafts off you. But you somehow seem to sober up when you see the police badges on his shirt.
âYouâve got the wrong personâ, you tell him, trying to morph your face into an expression of sobriety.
âDonât worry, Miss. I came here to check on you.â
âCheck on me?â
âYes, Miss.â He salutes you. âI have orders from my captain to make sure that you arrived home safely and that you received thisâ, he says with an innocent smile on his lips, presenting a plastic bag to you.Â
Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in red letters and inside, three big takeout containers of food are waiting to be eaten.Â
Everything clicks into place. This is one of Yoongiâs employees. Another young, hopeful spirit which will be crushed in the system. You pity the young officer. You had the same innocent sparkle in your eyes once.
Hesitantly, you accept the takeout food.
âThanksâ, you mumble.
âAny time, Miss.â He studies you for a moment. âAre youâŚare you okay, Miss?â
You bite back tears. His empathy is going to kill him one day. But it feels so good to receive. You havenât been asked this question in so long.
You shake your head. He straightens up in worry.Â
âShould I call help for you, Miss?â
You know what he indicates.
âThank you, no. Iâm just going through some shit. Sorry, Iâm being sappy tonight.â
âYou donât have to go through it alone, Miss.â
âI know. Iâm just⌠Iâm seriously alright, I wonât do anything stupid. You donât have to worry, officer.âÂ
âYes, well I still see it as my duty to stay because you seem sad to meâ, he says and tries to go inside your apartment. He still has a lot to learn. You know from his eyes that he has no bad intentions and that he truly wants to help, but you know how the city will treat such deeds. One day he will try to help the wrong person and end up with attempted sexual assault charges. And it will fucking destroy him because people like him only see the good in the world and canât imagine that others would want to hurt people.
You stop him with a guiding hand on his chest.
âThat isnât necessary, really. My packages keep getting stolen and I guess itâs been annoying me.â
He pulls out a pen paper instantly, stepping closer to you without noticing, âyour packages? Have you seen anyone suspicious? How many packages have gone missing? When did it start?â
âNo, I⌠Thank you for your concern and the food, but I will get through the night safely.â
He steps back, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
âForgive me, I donât know why I did that. My captain said that you were important to him and that I should make sure that you are well, so I wanted to do a good job at it.â He bows at you deeply. âPlease forgive me, Miss.âÂ
âHe said that?â you whisper.
He nods his head, âyes, Miss.â
âOh. Uhm. â You clear your throat. âThank you, I, uhm, tell him that Iâm good.âÂ
âI will, Miss. Here, my card. You can always call me when you need somethingâ he hesitates, âor when you just need someone to talk to.âÂ
âThank you. This is so kind.â
âYou are never alone, Miss.â
âThank youâ, you say, bowing at him. He is so kind. God, you want to grab him and tell him to run before itâs too late.
He bows as well, âgood night, Miss.â
âGood night.â
You watch him leave. He gives you one last look out of the police car and a kind wave, then drives off.Â
You close the door with a curse. This just sobered you up. The young policemanâs kindness just sobered you up. You check his name on the card he handed you. Jeon Jungkook. Why someone like him? He never should have found his way into this field of work.Â
You look at the takeout food next, feeling your stomach twist. You are important to Yoongi. Holy fuck.
Itâs been eight weeks since you left him. You donât feel better. The cigarette you shared was two weeks ago and yet you still feel as if it was sticking to your lungs. Each time you breathe out, you swear you can taste him. It almost suffocates you and keeps you from relaxing. So you leave your depressing place for a walk to the kiosk. You read somewhere that walks are good for oneâs mental health. You canât agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are loud and fucking stink.
The vendor must be fucking with you. The day is bright, but the kiosk is closed again. You bang your fist against the closed door, cursing loudly. You want your fucking smokes is that too much to ask? This city is fucking shit.
Youâll just call someone who will always help. You saved him as Jay. His real name is Hoseok. You donât say his real name in public. He doesnât say yours. Yoongi sometimes called him his best friend, but what is such a title out of the mouth of the most apathetic man you know? You were his girlfriend too and look at where this has gotten you, living as an outlaw in the shit and dirt of this city.
Like always, Hoseok lets the phone ring four times then he picks up.
âFlames are hotâ, he says.
âAnd the arsonist works hardâ, you answer him.
âHyacinth, itâs good to hear your voiceâ, there is finally a smile in his voice now that you answered the code correctly.
âThe same goes for you, Jay.â
âWhatâs up? I havenât heard from you in ages.â
âNothing much. Iâm out of smokes.â
âThe corner in twenty?â
âYeah.â
You and he end the call at the same time. Twenty minutes later you meet. He wears black overalls and smudged eyeliner. He says it keeps the char easier to hide. Like always, he greets you with a quick hug.
âWhat do you got?â you ask him.
âWhatever you want.â He opens his bag. âIâve got cigarettes, but something stronger tooâ, he says, scurrying around the contents of the bag with his fingers. He always has burn marks on them, but somehow they are never dirty.
âWhat do fifty bucks buy?â
âFor you? Two packs of cigarettes and two joints. Thatâs a steal.â
âFuck dude, youâre getting expensive.â
âYeah well, a manâs gotta eat.â
âFine, Iâll take it.â
You and he exchange goods. He makes small talk.
âBut why are you here with me? Did Suga run out of goods?â
Suga is Yoongiâs codename in public. The sound of it almost brings bile into your throat. You did such a good job in forgetting him and now the memory of him is as fresh as a new day. At least you like to pretend that you are doing a good job at forgetting him. Your heart knows better though.
âWe, uhmâŚâ
Hoseok exhales sharply, âagain?â
You nod your head.
âWhen?â
âMore than two months ago.â
âDamn, thatâs long.â
âYeah, Iâm serious about it.â
He cocks his brow up.
âI amâ, you insist just a little snappishly.
âAlrightâ, he closes his bag, âI gotta go now.â
âAlready?â
He looks around nervously. Almost as if he didnât want to be seen with you.
âYup. Use the stuff wisely, I wonât have new stuff for a while.â
âSeriously?â
He nods his head and salutes you nonchalantly.
âSee you around.â
âSeeâŚyou?â
He turns his back to you and walks off quickly, soon disappearing into the busy crowd. Is this your fate? Even the people closest to you avoid you now that you arenât Yoongiâs anymore? Were you truly only worth something as his little thing? You ball your hands into fists, bending the joints this way. You have to leave this fucking place. There is actually nothing holding you here anymore.
That night the phone terror starts. Numbers keep calling you over and over and over again. You pick up the first time, only to have to listen to the most hurtful things another human has ever said to you. The voice wasnât Yoongiâs, but you still blame him. Now that you arenât his thing anymore, you became free food to whoever had been waiting to make your life a living hell. You turn off your phone after an hour and go to sleep with the help of Hoseokâs joints.
The doorbell wakes you the next morning. You consider not answering because itâs probably just one of his goons wanting to terrorise you. But whoever is ringing the doorbell is stubborn, forcing you out of your bedroom. You look through the door cam first.
That young officer. He is in full uniform.
You open the door hesitantly.
âGood morningâ, he greets you with a wave and a smile.
âGood morningâ, you murmur. Your mouth is as dry as a fucking desert. You are also so hungry that you could throw up in his face right now.
âHow are you feeling, Miss?â
âGood.â
âThatâs good to hear.â He says and shows you a package which he kept hidden behind his back all this time. He smiles brightly and proudly. âTada!â
âWhatâs that?â
âI caught the package thief, Miss.â
âAre you serious?â you gasp and your eyes instinctively drift to the car you have noticed parked outside your unit for days. The door is opened and someone is sitting in the backseat. He looked cuffed to the seat. You glance at the young officer and the shiteating, proud grin he is sporting. He has been watching you? Did Yoongi tell him to?
âWait. Youâre actually serious.â
âVery serious. For you, Missâ, he says and shoves the package into your face.
âUhm, uh. Thanksâ, you accept it, putting it under your arm. âHave you been watching me?â
âDid you notice the car? Sorry, I thought that I was better hidden. Iâm still new to all of this. But I caught the thief, heh.â He points at himself with his thumbs. âThatâs my first real arrest.â
He manages to drag an honest smile to your lips. He is kind of adorable in a way.
âThatâs cool. Thank you for taking care of it. Now Iâve got nothing to worry about anymore.â
He grins and nods his head, studying your features afterwards. He opens his mouth.
âJeon are you there? Overâ, his walkie talkie interrupts whatever he wanted to ask you. He takes it off his chest harness.
âIâm here, Kim Sir. Over.â
âCome to the precinct. We need reinforcements. Over.â
âComing right away, Sir. I caught a thief right now, Sir. Over.â
A pause where the higher officer is definitely baffled by his confession.
âGood job, Jeon. Over.â
The young officer giggles before he speaks again, doing so as seriously as possible.
âThank you, Kim Sir. I am taking the criminal to the precinct. Over.â
âUnderstood. Over.â
He puts the walkie talkie back on its harness and gives you a sorry smile.
âThat was my boss. My other boss, not your friend who is the boss of this boss. Anyways. I have to go now, duty calls. Are you going to be okay, Miss?â
âI am. Thank you for your kindness.â
âAnytime, Miss. Uhm, have a good dayâ, he says and leaves with a wave of his hand. He waves again as he drives off. You retort it, staring at his car until it disappears behind a corner. You sigh deeply. He is so nice. Why someone like him? Why does this life always find people like him?
Itâs been ten weeks since you left him. You read somewhere that walks are good for your mental health. You still canât agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are still loud and still fucking stink. But itâs better than staying in your apartment. Youâve got new neighbours since Monday. They keep fucking like actual animals. They fucked when you left your place tonight. You were this close to kicking their door in and slaughtering them like pigs. You opted for a walk in the end.
You walk for a while then sit down by an empty bench next to the river. It is quiet. Nobody is really here. At least nobody important. A couple, how disgusting. A late night jogger, clearly a man. A homeless person, who uses another bench as their bed. You hate looking at homeless people because you feel helpless seeing them. You stopped being on the bright side of the law because of people like them. You thought that maybe if you stole from the corrupt men in power often enough, you would be able to help the ones who truly needed it. But you never managed to actually achieve anything. The homelessness in the city grows, while the pockets of the politicians become fatter and fatter in wealth. You fucking hate this city. It is rotten to the core.
âLook who we have here. If that isnât our pretty little Hyacinth.â
You arenât quick enough to get up to leave and then you already have two men throwing their arms over your shoulders while a third is grabbing the back of your head from behind. You try to reach for your knife but canât. Their grip on you is too good.
âWhat are you doing here all alone?â
Their voices are familiar and one look at them confirms your suspicions. Itâs them. The same three underlings who stole your groceries months ago.
âLeave me aloneâ, you tell them.
âWhy should we? You are all alone. If the boss knew weâre leaving you alone, heâd grow angry.â
âI can take care of myself.â
âNow, now donât be like that. Youâre just a girl and there are many dangerous men out there.â
You look to your side. One of them is licking their lips like a hungry animal.
âYeah? And youâre being fucking inappropriate. Leave me aloneâ, you spit, shaking off their arms.
They let you. Just as they let you stand up and take your bag.
âGoodnightâ, you tell them and leave. Quickly. You walk a good hundred feet until you finally dare to look over your shoulder only to realise in horror that they are following you. Quickly.
You can defend yourself. You know how to kill, but you also know when you are outnumbered. And three bigger men against a woman is sadly never going to end well for the woman. You hate this city and you hate this life. You know that their words were nothing but provocation. They know you arenât with Yoongi anymore, that you arenât under his protection anymore and that in some weird way, you sullied his honour. You also know how people who bring dishonour to the gangs of this city are punished. The men are murdered and the women, well, they are murdered too but not before being sullied themselves. You hate this city and you hate this life. This life which is going to fucking end for you soon.
You dare to look over your shoulder one more time. They are so close that you can see the hunger in their eyes. No. Nononononono. It canât end like this. You were supposed to leave this city, start a new life, forget about Yoongi. You are not going to die here in this dirty, shitty park far away from your dream.
Thump.
You bounce back from the impact, letting out a blood curling scream. It was instinct. Just as it is instinct of the person you ran into to grasp you by your arms and pull you closer again.
âLet me go! Help! Help me!â
âQuietâ, the person hisses and shakes you. This voice sounded different. Familiar in an almost intimate way.
You dare to shift your eyes to them.
Yoongi.
âI, I, Iâ, you stutter, feeling delirious in both fear and shock. You grab his shirt, twisting it to get closer to him. The act is intimate and out-of-place but you are too frightened to think clearly.Â
Yoongi brushes over the state of your glassy eyes to look over your shoulder. There are three men suddenly scurrying away, using the darkness to hide. He managed to get their faces.
He looks back at you. Your eyes meet. A little bit of clarity returns to you. What are you doing? Your fingers soften around his shirt.Â
âI donâtâŚâ
âCome on, weâre going homeâ, he say sternly and puts an arm around your waist, dragging you with him like this.
You follow him all the way to his car. You even let him sit you down on the passenger seat and you even stay seated when he rounds the car to get to the driver side. You think that you are in shock because you donât protest when he starts the car, nor when he drives off. You simply stare outside with your knees turned to him because your body acts against your consciousness. The city passes you by in flashes of neon colours. His car smells like his cologne and leather. He has no music playing.Â
Yoongi glances at your face. You have your head against the window, squeezing your hands between your thighs. The neon lights illuminate your features each time he passes by another light source. He can see that you are trying not to shake.
He takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes to the road. He has to grip the steering wheel, otherwise his hands would shake in anger.
âShould we get dinner?â
His voice rips you from whatever trance you were in. You sit up straight, looking at him. He is gripping the steering wheel to the point his knuckles pale. His long hair is hanging into his face tonight. A turquoise varsity jacket adorns him. His scar wasnât hidden behind concealer. He wasnât working his day job today. What was he doing at the park? Why was he there?
âTake me homeâ, you order him.
âI am.â
âNo. Home. Not your place.â
âMy place is your homeâ, he gets out through gritted teeth.
âNo, it isnât. Not anymore.â
âDonât be ridiculous.â
âDid you see what they were doing to me?â
âNo.â
You are lost for words for a moment. The tears come afterwards.
âStop the car.â
Yoongi looks at you because your voice was shaking. He holds his breath at the sight of your tears.
âWhat?â he makes sure.
âStop. The. Car. Now.â
He laughs and shakes his head.
You pull the knife out on him. He swerves to the side on instinct, fixing the mistake so vigorously, you and he shake in the small space. You donât let it affect you, holding the knife against his skin.
âWhat the fuck are you doing?â he hisses.
âStop the fucking car or Iâll kill us bothâ, you spit, holding the knife against his throat.
âFuckâ, he growls and hits the steering wheel. The car rolls to a stop.
âGet outâ, you threaten.
âI am. Fuck.â
He follows your orders because you have his life at bladeâs end. He still slams the door closed. You leave the car instantly.
âWhat the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed us bothâ he tries to scold you, but you silence him.
âIâm talking nowâ, you roar.
Yoongi closes his mouth because he has never heard you like this before.
âYou are such an asshole! Each day I regret the moment I met you! You are the worst thing that ever happened to me!â
Yoongi gulps.Â
âI had a life before you. I had dreams and ambitions and, and goals andâŚa chance. I could have had a good life. I was supposed to use my degree to help people but you ruined everything for me.â
He rounds the car in big steps, coming so close to you that you smell his breath. It smells like chewing gum.Â
âYou could have achieved something? What exactly did you achieve as a lawyer? Mhm, what did you achieve? This city is fucked.â
âYes, because you fucked it!â you hit his chest. He doesnât budge, but also doesnât stop you. âYou fucked it and you fucked me and I hate you for it!â
âDonât blame me for your decisions. I gave you a chance to leave me back then. You were the one who stayed.â
You inch closer until your lips are almost touching. Yoongi exhales shakily, placing his hand on your hip.Â
âAnd I will regret this decision till the day I dieâ, you whisper, breaking the closeness.
You slip out of his hold. He follows you in a small stumble and a trembling gasp.Â
âI never want to see you again. Are we clear?â you hiss at him.
âDonât be fucking ridiculous, you donât want thisâ, he hisses back at you.
âYouâre wrong, I donât want you. I thought I still did, but I donât. You donât care about me, itâs finally so fucking obvious to me. You donât fucking care.â
âYou donât know what youâre saying.â
âThey are terrorising me, Yoongi!â You finally scream. âI wake up to people ringing my doorbell in the middle of the night, I have to keep my phone turned off because the phone calls donât stop. I keep getting my stuff stolen and, and I thought I was going to be raped tonight! They are terrorising me and you called it not your problem!â
âNo, you-â
âIâve been living in constant fear, our friends donât even look at me anymore, I havenât eaten in days and I canât-â, you stop yourself. He doesnât even deserve your anger anymore. â-you know what? Fuck this and fuck you. Iâm leaving.â
You turn your back to him and leave.Â
He says your name and takes your hand. He pulls, tries to turn you to him. But you rip yourself free again.
âDonât goâ, he says.
You donât listen.
âIâm ordering you to stayâ, he sounds desperate, yelling your name, âI am ordering you!âÂ
He can yell as much as he wants to. You donât listen to him anymore. The subway station isnât far. You will make an exception and take it tonight. Even if you hate it. It stinks. Just like the rest of this shitty city.
You are going to leave. Once you are home, you are going to start packing and then you are going to leave. You will call V. You donât know his real name, but he can change your identity as quickly as others change their socks. You will call V and tell him to have your passport ready the day after tomorrow. You will pay him with the money you have under your pillow and then leave for somewhere clean. Maybe somewhere with lots of mountains. You always heard that the air at these places is breathable.
You call V the same night. He tells you that two days is too short and to wait another week. So you wait. Your bags have been packed. You live out of them in your own place. You donât leave it. You are scared. With how little Yoongi cared about your situation, you doubt that he told his men to stop. You are scared that if you left again, they would finally go through with what they couldnât finish back then.
The doorbell rings during a rainy, dark night. You flinch awake to the point where you feel sick to the stomach. The lights are turned on instantly eventhough you know not to do that in such a situation. You canât think clearly. You just want this to be over. All of it.
You run to the front door because you suddenly feared that it was unlocked. It isnât, but you can watch someone push an envelope under your door. The shadow blocking the light outside leaves the moment the letter is inside your apartment.
You donât want to open it at first, staring at it as if someone had planted a bomb in your apartment. Fuck it, if that is how you die then so be it, you think in the end and bend down to pick it up. It feels different in your fingers. Sophisticated. Intimate. The envelope is glued closed as if someone licked the glue stripe and the faint smell of well-known cologne lingers on the paper. You open it with shaky fingers.
A letter. It is heavy and folded once. You open it, gasping when three photographs fall out of it and onto the ground. You donât know what is on them because they landed on their face side. So you read the letter first.
âIt has always been mine as well.â
Written in black ink and a familiar handwriting. This is Yoongiâs writing.
With even shakier hands, you pick up the pictures. You feel sick for a moment, gawking at the cruel pictures with your hand thrown over your mouth. The three men who terrorised you. Their mutilated corpses look back at you. He tortured them to death.
You rip the door open, stumbling onto the balcony. You look down at what tripped you. Two bags of your favourite takeout food and a six pack of water. Both clearly fresh. So it was him. Yoongi must be here somewhere. You look into the distance. The night is loud and blurry in a thunderstorm. The streets are empty. The ghost of your past is gone again. You squint your eyes. A person.
âYoongi!â you call out, unable to realise that you are smiling and waving your hand.
The person moves. Oh. It was just the shadow of a tree. For just a moment you had hoped that the dark shape was him waiting for you. It was just a treeâŚand you were happy that if could have been Yoongi. The realisation hurts.
âFuckâ, you press out, going back inside. The lump in your throat makes it hard to breathe. You stumble back to bed, halting for a moment when you pass your suitcases.
It has always been mine as well. His words repeat themselves in your head. All this time, you thought that he didnât care. All this time, you thought that your terror left him cold. Your eyes drift over the empty takeout boxes from the noodle place. You still havenât cleaned them up. He made sure that you were properly fed for days back then. A glance at the new stuff he got tonight. He is still making sure that you are. Your eyes drift over the package next. He made sure that they stopped getting stolen. You look at the pictures in your hands. He made sure that they would never hurt you again. All this time, you were so blinded by your own anger that you missed how he had always looked out for you. You missed his way of showing you that you were important to him.
It has always been his problem as well.
Something inside you breaks and you scream. You donât know what you scream for, but you scream. It hurts so much. It hurts so much because you will still leave. He will hurt you again if you stay. All his efforts healed your heart and it hurts so much because you will still leave. You were meant to stay broken hearted. Leaving would have been so easy this way. Now it hurts like a bitch. But you canât sway. You have to leave this place. It will chew up what little is left of you until you truly cease to exist.
V comes to your place the next day. He rings your doorbell. It wakes you from the uncomfortable sofa you fell asleep on last night. You groan as you sit up and you barely want to open your eyes as you stumble to the door.
You open it without checking the camera first.
âTook you long en- you?â
Jungkook, the young officer, greets you with a smile.
âI swear Iâm not stalking you.â
You have a headache today, so it is difficult not to snap at him. He is also not the person you wanted in front of your door today.
âIâm starting to doubt that.â
He laughs, âitâs not that. I talked to my boss. Your friend, the boss of the other boss. Sorry, anyways. I need you to come to the precinct with me.â
âWhat? Why?â
âOkay so, this is actually so cool and I shouldnât even be telling you this, but youâre my bossâ friend so I guess itâs okayâ, he begins with sparkling eyes, âturns out that the package thief is actually a serial thief and you arenât the first one he stole from. Isnât that cool? Itâs like in those movies. Those cool cop movies.â
âReally? He stole from more people?â You highly doubt that.
âYeahâ, he laughs as he answers you, nodding his head excitedly, ânow weâre calling in everyone who he stole from so we can take their statements. My boss says that we canât keep the thief locked up for long otherwise.â
You know that this wasnât really how the law works. After all, you were once a lawyer who was fucking good at her job. Is Yoongi trying to drag you back to him? First he tries to change your mind by killing your bullies and now he is trying to do the final blow by abusing his power as police chief? You check the time. Couldnât the young officer have come later? You could have had your passport already and be far, far away from this place.
âCan I just give it to you here?â you ask him.
âMhmâ, he tilts his head to the side, âno, I donât think that it works like this. Iâm sorry, Miss. The captain said that itâs important that all the victims come into the precinct.â
You have to give Yoongi that. He is real clever about it. That means however that you canât escape this situation. Any more resistance from you would make you suspicious.
You give up with a sigh. âCan I just change into something different?â
âOf course, Miss.â
The young officer lets you sit in the passenger seat. He is so new at all of this. With such naivety he tells you his entire life story. That he was from the countryside and that his dream has always been to be a policeman in the city. That he studied hard for years and that he completed his enlistment with honour just so he could be a proper officer. He sounds so proud of himself that each second with him makes you hate his presence more and more. He is so fucking stupid and it angers you. Why would he throw away his life like that? Why someone like him?
You are led to one of the precinctâs interrogation rooms and are told to wait there. The table is decked with different foods.
âWhatâs all that?â you ask Jungkook.
âBreakfast, Miss.â
âDid your captain tell you to do that?â
âHe said that wanted to make sure you get your breakfast because we called you in so early. The captain really cares for the citizens.â
You stifle a scoff. Sure he does.
âMhm, I see.â
âEither way, it wonât take longâ, the young officer bids his goodbyes and leaves you in the interrogation room.
His words were a lie. You wait and wait and wait, but nothing happens. There are no clocks in this godforsaken room, but you still know that it has to be hours. You didnât want to eat the breakfast at first, glaring at the two-way mirror because in your mind, Yoongi was behind it, watching you and making sure that you ate. You didnât want to give him the satisfaction at first, but had to in the end. The body begins working against oneâs will when it is starving and the breakfast looked way too good. You eat all of it, then glare at the mirror again. You are still left alone and more time passes. It is as if they are trying to wear you down, as if you were the criminal in this situation. Granted, you are a criminal, but only Yoongi knows that and right now you are a poor civilian having done nothing wrong. You know that itâs Yoongiâs doing. That he somehow wants to terrorise you.
So when the door finally opens and he walks into the room, you almost throw the empty bowl at his head.
âForgive the wait, Miss but something came upâ, he says nonchalantly, flicking through some papers.
His second in command Kim Namjoon and the young officer Jeon Jungkook are behind him, which is why he is putting up this act. You grind your teeth.
âI already started to wonder if Iâm in danger hereâ, you say way too sweetly.
âThat depends on how you are going to answer our questionsâ, he says and sits down on the chair in front of you.
Jungkook stays by the door while Kim Namjoon stands a little to your side.
You look around yourself. He is trying to intimidate you.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean? I thought that Iâm here to give my statement because of my stolen packages.â
Yoongi glances up from the papers. This is the first time your eyes meet after your fight and he killed your bullies. If only the others in this room would know how much blood he has on his hands and to which length he is willing to go to protect you. There were times where you would have dragged him over the table and kissed him senseless, but not anymore. You are stronger than your urges, even if it hurts your heart. You canât give in again. If you do, he will take you for granted again. You wonât be happy with him. You finally have to fucking understand that.
âYouâre right. You are here because of thatâ, he says dryly.
âGood. It started on May sixteen. I came home at around seven ten and noticed that my packages were missing. Two were stolen back then, but in total he stole eight packagesâ, you say and proceed to tell him the exact dates with the time as well as what was stolen. Â
âYou seem to know how such hearings workâ, he says after he wrote down what you said.
âI had a few hours to practice what I was going to sayâ, you say with a poisonous smile.
One Yoongi retorts with just as much poison and a deep hum.
âApologies again.â
âDonât worry, I know how hard the police works at keeping this honourable city safe.â
He tongues his cheek. You give him a victorious smirk. This cut. Good. He takes a deep breath and releases it through his nose, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out a cigarette. He gets as far as to put it to his lips and then Kim Namjoon already speaks up.
âCaptain. Smoking is prohibited in this building.â
âFuckâ, Yoongi presses out and takes the cigarette between two fingers to tap it against the table instead.
âSmoking is bad for you either wayâ, you say.
He tongues his cheek again. You know that he wants to curse at you right now, but canât. He has to put up a friendly act.
âI know, canât shake the habitâ, he says and studies your face, âso what now?â
âSir?â Kim Namjoon is rightfully confused. Yoongi slipped up.
âI donât know, I was never in such a place before. Do you still need to take my information?â you act oblivious.
âWe already have everything.â
âGreat. Then I can go?â you ask, fluttering your lashes innocently.
âI donât know yet.â
âSir?â âWhat? Why?â
Yoongi shifts in his chair until he manspreads like an idiot. He crosses his arms in front of his chest.
âWhat are you going to do now?â he asks you.
âUhmâŚis this still part of my hearing?â you ask, glancing at Kim Namjoon.
âNo of course not, Miss. Please, follow me.â
âSit. Down.â
The room is silent for a moment. You glare at Yoongi while Namjoon and Jungkook gawk in complete confusion. Their captain acts out of character. There is no reason to keep the innocent lady here any longer. This isnât like him at all. He has been fidgeting all day, barely drank his coffee, went for far too many smoke breaks and now this. The officers have no explanation for their captainâs sudden behaviour.
âWhat is the reason for this?â you ask him.
âJust safety precautions. We wouldnât want our honest citizen to get into dangerâ, he says coldly, ânow answer my question. What are your plans now, Miss?â
âI will go home.â
âWhere is that home?â
âSir, I donât know if that is necessary.â
âShut up, Kim.â
Namjoon gulps, exchanging a confused look with Jeon Jungkook. This is really not like their captain.
Yoongi straightens up and leans forward so he is closer to you.
âWhere is that home, Miss?â
You lower your eyes in anger.
âI donât know yet, Iâm planning to leave this city.â
âWhat?â his voice shook as he spoke. His fingers close and break the cigarette that way. His eyes almost bore holes into yours from how deeply he stares into them.
âThis cityâs become too depressing for me. I plan on leaving it for good.â
âYou donât mean that.â
âYes, I do. There is nothing holding me here anymore.â
âYes, there is.â
âNo, there really isnât. I will leave.â
Bang!
You flinched back. Namjoon and Jungkook tense up as well.
Yoongi slammed his hand on the table, jumping to his feet.
âNo the fuck you wonât!â he yells.
âSir? What are you doing?!â
âExcuse me? Itâs my right as an honest citizen to moveâ, you act oblivious as well.
âKeep her hereâ, he talks to Jungkook, pointing at him, âlock her up and keep her here.â
âUnder what pretence, Sir?â the young officer asks with widened eyes.
âI, I, I donât know. Refusal to, to, to cooperate or some shit like thatâ, Yoongi never stutters and he never paces, but he is currently doing both of those things.
âSirâŚisâŚthis legal?â Jungkook asks shyly.
Yoongi is by Jungkookâs side within a few steps, grabbing him by the collar.
âDo as you are told, Jeon! Unless you want to lose this job!â Yoongi growls, making Jungkook whimper with fear.
âCaptain Min, you are stepping out of placeâ, Kim Namjoon speaks up, dragging him away from Jungkook, âand get off this poor officerâs neck. He is just doing his job.â
Yoongi whips around, now targeting his anger at Namjoon.
âIf he was doing his fucking job, he would lock her upâ, he hisses, pointing at you.
âI need you to step out for a moment, Captainâ, Namjoon says and gestures Jungkook to open the door. The young officer obeys, holding it open as Namjoon shoves a protesting Yoongi out of the room. He closes the door again, muting the vivid fighting Yoongi was doing with Namjoon outside.
He meets your eyes, smiling awkwardly.
âPlease forgive the Captain, Miss. He is very concerned about his citizensâ safety.â He is a terrible liar, but you donât blame him. If you were in his situation, you would have no idea how to explain such a situation to a supposed innocent citizen either.
âDonât worry. I, Iâm just wondering if maybe I can finally leave? Iâm sorry, this just really scared me and I just want to lie down at home nowâ, you act shaken up, looking at the young officer with pleading eyes.Â
âOf course, Miss. Our honest apologies again, Miss. Please follow meâ, he says and leads you out of the room.
Yoongi and Namjoon are still arguing, but stop when they see you come out. You lock eyes with Yoongi for the briefest of moments.Â
He closes the distance and grabs your wrist, dragging you with him with such vigour that nobody truly gets time to act. Not even you know what was happening to you until you find yourself in his office with the door slammed shut.Â
âWhat are you doing?â you gasp.
âShut the fuck up, youâre not the one asking this question right now!â
âYoongi, lower your voice. This isnât the place for screams.â
He steps closer to you, pointing at your face in warning.
âI have every fucking right to scream right now and you know thatâ, he presses out through gritted teeth.
âWhy? Because I finally donât need you anymore?â
âYou canât move. What the fuck are you thinking?â
âIâm-â
âI'm not doneâ, he interrupts you, âI killed them for you. I did it. Just for you. Because your safety matters to me. I care.â He hits his own chest. âI showed you that I care and youâre gonna leave?â
You hate that you love him, but not for the usual reasons. You hate it because it hurts. You are going to leave despite not wanting to. You love him, perhaps you always will but you are also going to leave.Â
You nod your head.
Yoongi exhales shakily, taking a stumbling step back. He stares at you as if you were the ghost whose haunting hurts him the most. He huffs out air, rubs his hand over his mouth, then runs it through his hair and down the side of his neck.
âIâll kill the thiefâ, he says in the end.
âWhat?âÂ
âI'll make it seem like suicide. Heâll look like a pisser who couldnât take prison and killed himself.â
âAre you out of your mind? Heâs just a thief.â
âWell, what more do you need?!â he screams
âNothing! I donât need anything from you!â
âWhy not? I can give you whatever you want!â
âLook at you. Now that you finally realised, Iâm actually serious about the breakup, you wanna act like you care.â
âI careâ, his voice broke, but you are both too angry to acknowledge it, âi-i-if I knew that you- I just-â He breathes in, breathes out, rubs his mouth, then his neck. âIt canât end like this. It canât.â
âIt can. Iâm done begging you for everything.â
Yoongi steps closer.
âI can-â
âSir? What is the meaning of this?âÂ
Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook are in the office. The rest of the precinct gawks at you and Yoongi through the doorway. The latter lifts his hands and steps back. His fingers are shaking.Â
âThe captain just voiced his worries for my move. Donât worry about it, Kim Sirâ, you lie and turn to leave, âmay I finally leave?â
Namjoon tells Jungkook to handle it with a nod of his head. The young officer points at the open door.
âPlease after you, Miss.â
Yoongi says your name.Â
You look at him over your shoulder, despite knowing you shouldnât. He takes a step closer, lifting his brows in pleading. Donât give in. Donât give in. Donât give in. You ball your hands to fists and turn your back to him.
Yoongi tries your name again, hoping for another look. One which doesnât come.Â
âCome backâ, he tries, but gets stopped by Namjoon.
You can hear them talk as you leave.
âWhat the fuckâs your issue, man? Youâve been weird all day and now youâre screaming at citizens?â
âWatch your tone.â
âHyung, Iâm not here as your colleague right now. Iâm here as your friend.â
âSheâs gonna leave, she canâtâŚâ
Jungkook leads you away from the office before you can hear Yoongiâs full answer.Â
âAre you crying, Miss??â
âHm? Oh that, donât mind them. Itâs justâŚâ Your heart is broken and you want to run back to Yoongi. â...forgive me, Iâm just a little shaken from everything.â
âIâm sorry, Miss. The captain isnât normally like this.â
âItâs alright. I know how Yoongi can be sometimes.â
âYoongi?â Jungkook asks, glancing at the captainâs office. He wonders what kind of friends you and he are. Maybe Those kind of friends? Is that why you are important to the captain?Â
âI meanâŚsorry, I donât know why I said that. I just wish to go home now.â
âOf course, Miss.â
âOh god, I donât even have money for a bus ticket with meâ, you murmur to yourself, looking for your wallet. This is all a scheme to get Jungkook to drive you home again. You are worried that if he didnât, Yoongi would somehow get to you before you could reach the station.
âDonât worry about it, Miss. As a policeman, it is my duty to make sure that you get home safely.â
âReally? I wouldnât want to waste your time.â
âOf course, Miss.â
And so he takes you home and you hate yourself because of it. So it began. You were the first person who used his kindness to her advantage. You were the drop beginning the inevitable filling of the tank until one day it will swap over. And once that happens, it is almost impossible to stop the leak. Fuck, you are just as terrible as everyone else in this city.
But the young officer is oblivious to what you just did, driving you home with a kind smile on his face. He even walks you to your door and stays as you unlock it. Your neighbours are fucking again. He glances at their door, then awkwardly at you.
âYeah, Iâve got new neighbours. You canât go over there and flash your badge and tell them to shut up, can you?â
âOf course I can, Miss. Just one mom-â
âNo stop, I was jokingâ, you stop him, studying him with exhausted eyes. You are so sorry. You are so fucking sorry.
âAh, okay. Please forgive me, I always take everything way too seriouslyâ, he says, scratching his own neck shyly. He furrows his brows. âWhatâs the matter, Miss?â
âCan I tell you something?â
âOf course, Miss.â
âRun.â
âWhat?â
âRun back to your hometown. Run and never look back.â
âExcuse me?â he laughs in confusion, furrowing his brows harder.
âYouâre a good person, Jeon Jungkook. This city will fucking ruin you.â
âIâŚuhâŚâ He laughs nervously. âI donât seem to follow, Miss. Sorry.â
âYou donât need to get it, just listen to me. Please.â
âOâŚkay? I uhmâŚâ
âThank you for driving me home. Iâll think of you sometimes in my new home.â
âMiss, are you okay?â
âI am. You donât need to worry about me anymore. Just promise me to run.â
âI promise?â
âGood. Be happy, Jeon Jungkook.â
âMiss, I-â
You close the door on him and lock it. You donât expect him to knock or ring the bell. He is too proper to annoy you this way. You check the camera. He stares at the closed door for a few moments longer, looking confused. He lifts his hand to knock, hesitates and turns his back to the door instead, leaving down the steps to drive off. You know that you confused him, but you had to. Please let it be enough to save him.
V arrives later that day. He is stressed and clearly in a hurry.
âWhatâs wrong? You look like you need to be somewhere or like you need to shit. Do you need to shit?â
âWhat? Noâ, he sounds out of breath as well as annoyed, âIâm risking my ass being here. Iâve got your stuff. Itâs the only thing except mine that I managed to save. Give me the money, quick.â
âSave?â you probe, giving him the money.
He stuffs it into his boxers hastily, looking over his shoulder again.
âMy place got raided by cops. I was at the market getting food, then came back to five cop cars in front of my place. I barely escaped. If I didnât always carry my stuff with me, Iâd have been fucked.â
âWhat?!â
âSorry, Hyacinth. Gotta leave the city for a while. I wish you all the best.â
âV, what the fuck?â
âHereâs to never seeing each other again, aye?â he jokes, laughing nervously. Itâs a good thing he said. Never seeing each other again meant that you and he managed to escape safely.
âWait. Where will you go?â
âI canât tell you. You know I canât.â
âYeah, justâŚbe careful.â
âYou too.â
He leaves and you know that he will be successful. If there is one person who wonât ever be found it is V.Â
You are in a trance for the rest of the day. Yoongi raided Vâs place. He went as far as to betray his own people just to make sure that you wouldnât leave. Carrying your new passport feels like a trophy, as much as it feels like a curse. Leaving this city wonât be as easy anymore now that he knows. You are so fucking stupid for telling him, but you didnât want to miss out on his reaction when he found out. The small moment of satisfaction seems skippable now that you know how far he is willing to go to keep you close. And because V came as late as he did, your means of escape donât drive anymore either. You have to wait for the earliest bus if you wanted to or not. Fuck, you did this to yourself. You stupid fucking woman. Look at you. You have this big, honourable degree and still manage to get yourself into shitty situations over and over again.
You go to sleep with a gun under your pillow. You wonât risk anything.
You donât get a lot of sleep and then a noise wakes you. You heard it as clear as day. Someone unlocked your front door. He sent men to get you. Now heâs gone too far. You jump out of bed and grab your loaded gun, tiptoeing to a spot from where you could observe the apartment. You have to be strategic about it. First count the men, then calculate the fastest way to shoot them, then act. The door closes and locks again. Clever bastards, they want to make sure that you donât flee. Oh, you are going to have a blast killing them. One last little thing to leave Yoongi before you abandon him.
The automatic lights turn on. Got you, assholes.
The first enters your vision.
âHm?â
Yoongi. Clearly drunk, he is dragging his feet over the floor, using the wall as support. No one else follows him. So he came here alone.Â
Overtaken by anger, you jump out of hiding and at him.
Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.
âCareful, itâs just meâ, he lulls.
âGet the fuck out of my houseâ, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes.Â
âI canât believe youâre still hiding your keys under the flower pot. Donât make me so worried, anyone could enter.â
âIâm gonna count to three and if you havenât disappeared by then, Iâll shoot.â
âCan we talk?â
âOne.â
âI know I fucked up. I canât stop thinking about you. Please, can we try again?â
âTwo.â
âI promise I changed. You were right, I was a joke. But I wanna do better now.â
âThree.â âIâm sorry!â
Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut. His death never comes. He peels his eyes open again.
You are staring, panting heavily. Tears are in your eyes.
âIâm sorryâ, he whispers.
This is the first time he is the one to say these words first. It feels so good, but you canât give in again. You made up your mind to leaveâŚdidnât you? You study the state of him. He is heavily intoxicated. He looks the way and reeks of it.
âYouâre drunk.âÂ
He nods his head, furrowing his brows. He touches your elbows, caressing them softly. Such touch you only get when he is drunk.
âI drank because of you. What you said today. I justâŚdonât move away, pleaseâ, he begs, eyes filling with tears.
âSo now you care? I wasnât important to you when I was with you and now that Iâm leaving, Iâm suddenly important?â
âYouâve always been important.â
âNo, I havenât. You took me for granted.â
âI did and Iâm sorry. I never should have taken you for granted. Iâll do better now, please just give me a chance to prove it to you.â
âIf I give you a chance again, youâll just abuse it and hurt me.â
âNo, I wonât. Please, I just.â He cups your face, running his thumbs under your eyes as gently as possible. âWe were right once. We were so good together. We were a team and, and we had dreams and we made each other happy. I want this back, I wanna try to get this back again please.â
âI just want to be happy, Yoongiâ, you press out.
âIâll make you happy, baby. Please, I-Iâll make you happy again.â
âNo, youâre drunk and talking fucking shit.â
âIâll leave this city if you want me to.â
You falter. He would give up what he built just for you?
âYou wouldnât do that.â
âI would. For you I would. Iâd set this whole city on fire and leave with you as it burns to fucking ashes behind us, please.â
âYou donât mean that.â
âPleaseâ, he whispers and drops his forehead against yours, âplease, I want to make you happy again.â
You hate that you love him. You hate that he made you addicted to him. This is so awfully him. He gives you enough affection that you get addicted to it then takes it away again. And once he feeds it to you again, you drink it up like an alcoholic. It is always the same.Â
âNo, you wonât. Youâre drunk.â
âPlease.â
âLeave my place.â
He presses himself off the wall and grabs the nuzzle of the gun, guiding it right between his brows.
âYou have to kill me if you want me gone.â
You gulp. He forces your finger to the trigger. Your airways close up.
âKill me. Fucking kill me. I canât live without you anyways.â
You could end it. Youâve got everything. Your suitcases, your papers, the keys of his car he drunkenly drove like an asshole. Youâve got everything you need to escape this place. You could end it, finally make sure that you have no temptation to return. You could end him and your addiction with it. Heâs got your finger on the trigger, it needs just one flex and it would be over. But you never wanted him dead. No matter how much you wished for him to be gone, you never wanted him dead. Because in some fucked up way, all you really wanted was for him to put more effort into you.
âNoâ, you whimper, shaking your head.Â
He rips the gun from your fingers and drops it on your dresser.Â
âI donât want to kill youâ, you press out, sobbing softly.Â
He cradles your face, wiping your tears.Â
âI knowâ, he gets out, nodding his head, âI know you donât, princess. I know.â
âYoongiâ, you squeak out, twisting his shirt.Â
âIâm here, princess. Iâm here.â
He pulls you closer until his kiss is just one breath away, feeding on the shaky breath you let ghost against his lips. His drunken eyes gaze at your mouth, his heart is racing in his chest.
âPush me awayâ, he tells you.
âI hate you.â
âAnd I love you.â
âYoongiâ, you whimper, finally touching his chest instead of his shirt.Â
He moans and pulls you into a kiss. A deep, hungry kiss.Â
You pull at his hair to get him off of you as much as you pull him closer, fighting for air. You hate that you loveâŚdo you really? Do you really fucking hate it? Do you really hate it when his kiss makes you feel alive again? You spent months feeling out of breath and now itâs gone. You can breathe again. At least metaphorically, physically heâs got you very close to passing out. You push at him to get distance. Air. He lets you breathe, but not escape. He pushes you to your sofa until your legs collide with the back of it. Your shaky breaths intermingle, your shared moans follow. His right hand slides to your ass, his knee lifts to your middle.Â
You gasp, grinding down on him. You canât protest because he kisses you so deeply it feels as if he wanted to consume your soul. He kisses and gropes, kisses and gropes until air is sparse. He gasps.
âFuck. Fuck, Iâm fuckedâ, he gets out and pulls your head back so he could drag his tongue up your throat.Â
It should disgust you, but it doesnât. You moan, running your nails down his chest and arching your back. He lifts his head, looking at you with drunken, crazed obsession. His fingers just canât stay still on your body. It is as if he wanted to touch everywhere at all times. The attention makes you short of breath.
âYouâre so fucking beautiful.â
You touch his cheek. He leans into your palm, closing his eyes when you trace his scar. You were with him when he got it. It was during a fight. He fought with his fists, his opponent chose the cowardly way and pulled a knife on him. He was lucky that he didnât lose his eyesight. He hated it at first, but you made him feel handsome. You always looked out for him that way.
âDo youâŚdo you think Iâm handsome?â he asks. Such questions you only get when heâs drunk.Â
âI do.â
His breath trembles as it leaves him. He drops his hand from your hips to take out his cock. He touches himself, gazing at you as if he needed the view of you to stay hard. And he does. He needs you. You are the only person who can turn him on.
You look at what his hand is doing, gulping heavily. He sighs, gazing at your face. You are as mesmerised by him as you were when everything was still good between you and him. His cock still has the same effect on you.
âPrincess?â he tilts your head back up to meet your eyes, using only two fingers under your chin for it.Â
You meet his eyes, heart racing unbearably.
âYes?â One little lift of his brows and you give him the answer he craved.Â
You part your legs, tilting your hips closer to him. You nod your head vigorously, gazing at his cock again.
He doesnât bother to pull his pants down all the way, neither does he care about taking off your panties. He pushes them to the side and stuffs you full of him, gripping the edge of the couch and your right thigh as deep moans leave him. Your right leg is lifted like this, supported by him.
You gasp, tensing up. Your toes curl instantly, your fingers clutch his lower arms. His cock stretches you out and stuffs your walls. Itâs not uncomfortable, but it is definitely intense. You gasp again, looking at him with widened eyes.
âI know baby, I knowâ, he breathes and bottoms out. âItâs been too long. Fuck.âÂ
He moves, chasing your warmth in drunk, sloppy thrusts. You writhe and gasp repeatedly, scratching the back of his neck. You want to hate that you love him. He should feel like an intruder. You should want to kick and scream for help. But you donât want to. You feel whole again. No preparation, but he doesnât hurt. His kiss and touch was enough. Your addiction to him runs so deep that his cock is pure heroin to you.
âYoongiâ, you get out, grabbing his throat. Your thumbs are on his Adamâs apple, threatening to press down.
He smiles, âI love youâ, he gasps out and drops his head against yours. His long hair tickles your face, his drunken breath swirls over your skin. He gulps and moans under your fingers, pumping into you with no signs of slowing down. You start losing strength in your calf, standing like this is exhausting, but if you were being honest, you donât want it to stop.Â
âI hate you.â
âFucking kill me thenâ, he rasps.
You close your fingers slightly.
âHarder. This isnât gonna do it.â
âYou first.â
âFuck, babyâ, he gets out and lifts you so he could round the sofa with you. He pins you down into the pillows, ripping the panties off of you and kicking his pants off. He pushes into you before you can truly realise what was happening, feeding you all of him until he canât give any more. He twists the pillow next to your head as he takes on a punishing rhythm. His dark hair hangs into his face, his teeth are bared as he huffs like an angry animal.
âYoon-â
âI know, baby I know. You already told me, baby. I knowâ, he whispers, wiping your cheek, âtake me, I know you can. Youâre my baby, youâre made for me.â
His praise is like medicine to you. This is all you needed. To know that he is still obsessed with you and that you still affect him.Â
You close your legs around his hips, keeping him with you this way. You need him to always stay like this. He moans your name, slipping his fingers from your cheek to hold the pillow instead. You told him that you hated him, but your body betrays you. Your eyes betray you. You keep him close, gaze at him as if he was your everything. Yoongiâs head is turning. Not only from the alcohol, but also from being with you again. And from knowing that you still loved him.
Because he loves you so much. He hates himself for taking you for granted. He never should have. You are his everything. The fucking reason why he does all of this. The last three months were torture for him. He started smoking again, drank too much, slept too little, worked too many hours. And if he didn't distract himself with work, he tried thinking up ways of showing you that he was still there for you. He ordered his officers to look out for you, sent food deliveries to your place, parked in front of your place somewhere hidden to watch you smoke on the staircase. He also followed you sometimes after you confessed to him that some of his goons were terrorising you. And each time he followed you, he wished for you to notice him just so he could get a chance at talking to you again. But you never did and Yoongi thought that you will come back again soon. Then you told him that you would move and Yoongi finally broke. He was truly losing you. Three months of hell, of lonely nights and heartbreak and he was truly losing you.Â
âI missed youâ, he gets out, painting his name against your favourite spots. The eagerness with which you clasp him results in your hips to lift off the pillow, allowing your clit to grind against him each time he bottoms out. The necklaces he is wearing are tangling over your face. They were too long once, but Yoongi cut them to the perfect length so they wouldn't hit your face when you are underneath him. That was six months ago. During a time you thought he didnât care anymore. You feel so stupid now. His way of showing you that he cared was always there. He was always looking out for you. You were just too blind to see.Â
You gasp and whimper, mewl and keen, looking up at him with teary eyes and your fingers closing around nothing. You canât tell him that you missed him too because you are too overwhelmed.Â
âDid you miss me too?â but Yoongi is drunk tonight and when he is drunk he is needy for your affection.Â
You nod your head.Â
âSay it.â
âI missed youâ, you get out, following it up with a sob.Â
âBaby, I love youâ, he croaks, wiping your tears before dropping his forehead against yours, âI love you, baby, I love you. Donât leave me again, please.â
âYouâre so drunk.â
âYeah, drunk âcause of you. Thought Iâll lose you. Baby, I canât lose youâ, he croaks and shows you his honesty with passionate rolls of his hips. Somehow he goes even deeper than before, he hits your favourite spots even better.Â
You arch your back and scream his name, throwing your head back as best as possible. This is electric. Holy shit, he makes you feel good. Your face scrunches up against your will, your feet shake on his back.Â
Yoongi admires you with a pounding head and racing heart, repeating what he did before over and over and over again. You react in mewls and moans and screams and he canât get enough of it. He wants for you to lose your fucking voice because you couldnât stop screaming for him. Because if you sound like this for him, he makes you happy. It has been too long since you actually screamed this way, so Yoongi is especially affected by tonight.
He laces his fingers with yours â again, he is drunk â and squeezes them needily. He thinks that he is crying too. He watches pearls of something drip onto your face sometimes. His eyes also burn. He doesnât want it to stop. He is willing to carry his emotions on his sleeve if it meant you were happy again.
âIs this what you needed? Does this finally make you fucking happy?â he gets out, chasing the ecstasy as much as he helps you with your own pleasure trip.
You squeeze his hands back, making him moan your name.
âYe-yes.â
âArghâ, he growls, trying so much harder to fuck you right. It feels so good. He has to tell you. He stayed silent way too often in the past. You want his efforts and he wants to give them to you. âYou feel so good.â
The first confession was hard because he isnât used to sharing his feelings. It was hard, but it was also ecstatic because your sounds of pleasure became louder and you tightened around him, squeezing his hands happily.Â
âYou feel so good. You feel so fucking good. You feel so good, princess. You feelâŚso goodâ, he canât stop now that he started, telling you over and over and over again how you make him feel. Good. So good. He feels so good when he is with you. âYou are so good. Princess, fuck. I have to..I, I have to- ah!âÂ
You open your eyes in time with Yoongi collapsing on top of you. He whimpers into the crook of your neck, shaking almost pathetically.
There are two things you always believed to be true about Yoongi. First: When he fucks, his moans are always deep, raspy and growly. Second: He has perfect control over his orgasms.Â
Both of these things are getting proven wrong to you right here and now as he whimpers and shakes and paints your walls with his unexpected orgasm. You want to blame the alcohol on it and maybe the months of abstinence, perhaps even the fear of losing you paired with the relief of having you again. Holy fuck, he actually loves you doesnât he?
âI love youâ, he sobs, hugging you close.Â
âYoongi ahâ, he breaks you with his confession and the tenderness with which he holds you. You swear that you can taste colours for a moment. You havenât felt honestly good in your own skin in months. This right here is what feeling good is. This is it.Â
You donât know who comes down first. You think it is Yoongi, but even if he does, he doesnât pull out. He lets you shake and throb and clench around him until your moment of peak pleasure is over as well. He holds you silently afterwards, catching his breath in the crook of your neck. He missed your scent like nothing else. Truly, it leaves him so drugged out that he actually finds himself drooling as he smiles like a giddy boy.Â
You calm down with his weight atop your chest, his length still inside you and his hair between your fingers. It is still a little stiff and crusty from the variety of hair products he keeps in it during his day job. To think that mere hours ago, you were screaming at each other in his office. It feels so far away to you now. Like a memory of an unbelievable life.
You donât hate that you love him. You really donât.Â
âHow.â He clears his throat. âHow are you feeling?â
âGood.â
âAre you sore? Does anything hurt?â
âNo, but Iâm leaking.â
âFuckâ, he laughs into your shoulder, nibbling on it gently, âsorry, I justâŚam drunk and missed you.â
âYou were pathetic doing that.â
He laughs harder. You and he have a peculiar sense of humour. He knows that you meant it fondly. You laugh as well. He lifts his head at the sound of it, cupping your cheek.Â
âIf it means youâre laughing, I can live with being pathetic.â
Your heart flutters.
âWhatâs gotten into you?â
âBooze. Way too much booze.â
You laugh again. His eyes soften, he caresses your face.Â
âDefinitely too much booze, yeahâ, you agree.
âMhm, fuck.â He cuddles into your shoulder again. âIâm sleeping here.â
âAnd you think Iâd let you?â
He nods his head.
âFuck, youâre the worst.â
âAm I wrong?â
âNo, youâre not.â
You wake up alone the next morning. It hurts. So nothing changed. He got what he wanted, made you addicted again only to leave. Like he always did. And you are left feeling dirty and used and fucking awful.Â
You probably would have stayed in bed to cry the entire day if a very worrying noise hadnât come from outside your door. Someoneâs in your kitchen. You roll out of bed and leave the room. You donât need weapons today. You are angry enough that you will probably be able to beat whoever is dumb enough to break in.Â
You cross the corner and stop, lowering your fists.
Yoongi.Â
He took a shower and tied all of his wet hair into a messy bun. He is shirtless, wearing a towel around his hips. Music is playing from his phone while on the stove, breakfast is sizzling.Â
âYou?â
He turns at the sound of your voice, face lighting up instantly.Â
âGood morning, beautifulâ, he says, closing the distance to take you into a hug. âDid you sleep well?â
You donât answer him, you push at his chest so you could look at him. You canât believe that he is still here and that he is making you breakfast.
âWhatâs the matter?â he asks.Â
âWhy the fuck are you still here?â
He furrows his brows, âwhy not?â
âI, I donât know. I just, just. I thought thatâŚhuh? You didnât leave?â
He frowns in regret for a moment, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. He gives your left buttock an almost playful squeeze afterwards, stepping back to return to the cooking.
âIâm making your favourite. I also cleaned. Your place was a shithole, honestly.â
Still flabbergasted beyond relief, you look around your small apartment. He didnât just clean up the garbage and tidy, he fully wiped the place down. You check the clock next. Itâs way past one at noon. You slept for more than twelve hours. Damn. You never even realised how much sleep these last three months took from you until you finally fell asleep in his arms again and actually stayed asleep. You feel refreshed and not uncomfortable in your own skin.Â
Last, you look at Yoongi. He is humming to the music, switching between stirring the eggs in the pan and chopping up some pork belly.Â
At first you donât want to accept that this is actually happening to you, but then the desire to be close to him gets too grande to bear. You almost run to him, colliding with his back in a passionate hug.Â
He stumbles and grunts, following it up with a fond chuckle and his big hands rubbing your lower arms.Â
âPlease donât make me regret this again. Please.â
He turns in your arms, caressing your waist. He shakes his head, looking at you in ways he hasnât looked at you in ages. As if he honestly loved you.Â
âCan you promise me?â
âI promise you, babyâ, he says in a soft voice and locks pinkies with you.Â
The gesture is so cute and honest, that you have to stifle a giggle. Your heart hasnât fluttered like this in ages.
âI have an idea. How about Iâll take next week off and weâre leaving this city for a while? Maybe the mountains? Youâd like the air thereâ, he suggests.Â
âAre you serious? Do you actually mean that?â
He nods his head. You and he began swaying to the music, looking at nothing else but the other.Â
âBut first I gotta sort out the mess I made when I busted Vâs placeâ, he says.
âYeah true.â You slap his chest. âFuck you for that. He didnât do anything wrong.â
âI know, I know. I acted irrationally, I admit. But Iâm gonna fix this. You know how easily I can make stuff disappear. Heâll be able to return again in a week or so.â
âI hope youâll fix this, you idiot you.â
âMhm, I will and then Iâm taking you on a long vacationâ, he says, kissing your forehead before hugging you against his chest.
You close your eyes, melting into his chest.Â
âAnd when weâre there, Iâm gonna make you breakfast and make you cum and make you smile. Yeah?â he whispers.
âYeahâ, you snicker.
He smells like your shower gel today, but you donât mind. He hasnât shown such an actual desire to change in months and it feels so good to receive. You love that you love him. You really do.Â
âI love you, Yoongiâ, you whisper, feeling him squeeze you for just a moment as your confession overwhelms him.Â
âI love you too, princessâ, he tells you and he is sober for it because he swore to himself that he wonât need alcohol anymore to be able to show you his affection.Â
He is willing to better himself, he truly is and a week later, you and he are in his car on your way to a long vacation in the mountains.
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Slide - MYG (18+)
Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!ReaderÂ
Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?
Word count: 2k+
Summary:Â
"I can see the pain in your eyes I don't wanna say that I'm God, but I'll take you to heaven if you die"Â Â
Alternatively,Â
You would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timeline.
Warnings: implied smut, explicit smut, emotional sex, very sad (don't underestimate the angst huhu), depressed yoongi, reader is pining so hard lord!, creampie, unplanned pregnancy, NSFW!!
Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics
Minors do not interact!!
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon
A/N: Lemme know if you want a part 2? (even though I already know the answer hehe).
Arrangement.
You would rather call it an arrangement - the thing that is going on between you and Yoongi. Anything you have been feeling for him, outside your usual practice, is your, solely your decision or more likely⌠fault.Â
Hence, itâs a given. A given that you shouldnât feel your heart dropping to your stomach, crashing on whatever is available inside your body and shattering into a thousand pieces, when you find Gyuri walking inside the room.Â
Beside you, Yoongi tenses. His body goes rigid as the air inside the room thickens beyond repair. And all of a sudden you canât breathe.Â
Now you understand why Namjoon has been avoiding to reveal the name of the artist all along.
Lee Gyuri - One of the most successful solo artist as well as Min Yoongiâs one true love, who had left him broken so bad that you once found him on the street, unconscious, vomit all over his clothes - is now back in his life⌠in your life, which has been revolving around him.Â
Where she left - You started.Â
You picked Yoongi up, put him into pieces, not that you were able to heal the cracks but you at least conjoined it all together.Â
And just like that - one night after a long heart to heart talk and a few beers, you found him seethed deep inside you. Yoongi chanted your name again and again as if itâs a mantra that will heal the cracks of his heart all while he rutted in you like a mad man.Â
It started from there - the arrangement.Â
At the end of long days and even longer nights, whenever both of you were too exhausted to go home, you spent the nights crammed together on Yoongiâs studio couch.Â
Quiet whispers, curse words, wandering hands, secret body parts slick with arousal - everything had made your existence dwindle dangerously through his fingers.Â
Yoongi always fell asleep right after but you stayed awake, tracing the slope of his nose, bow of his lips, map of his pale skin glinting in the dark.Â
You had made a mistake.Â
You fell in love.
Now as Gyuri slides inside the room with natural elegance, you hear Yoongiâs breathing getting quicker in pace.Â
He is anxious.Â
You place a hand on his knees, under the table. Itâs a practiced habit that you adopted over time. Your fingertips help to calm him down.Â
Everything is the same.Â
Except this time, Yoongi doesnât relax under your touch.Â
âYoongi, can we talk for a moment?â Gyuri requests with a timid voice at the end of the meeting. Her eyes quickly lock with yours for a fraction of a second.Â
You half expect for Yoongi to say no. You pray to the universe for his answer to come as negative even when you know â
âYes. Sure.âÂ
That Yoongi never stopped loving her for a moment. Yoongi loved, loves and will love only one woman - and thatâs not you.Â
Even though you donât feel your legs anymore, you stand up. You choose to take the stairs to exhaust your body so that your sadness can be masked.Â
But even as you climb down floors after floors - your heart stays confined in that room locked with two lovers.Â
âShe said she wants to work it out this time. She has been missing me terribly... she said.â Yoongi doesnât look away from the blaring computer screen.Â
He probably doesnât have the heart of looking into your eyes.Â
Somewhere he, too, knows of the deepest secrets you have been hiding from him.Â
âAnd? What did you say?â You chew on the inside of your mouth, again praying for him to answer something of your liking.Â
âThat I will think about it.â you knew he would say that.Â
âWhat is there to think about, Yoongi? You still love her.â you force the words out of your mouth even when your throat closes up.Â
Tears threaten to spill from the corner of your eyes but you blink those away.
Yoongi finally looks at you, his own eyes glinting with moisture.Â
âBut what about you?â The question is rhetorical - metaphorical.Â
âMe? I will go back to where I started from.â you lie, heart threatening to leap out of your chest.Â
You would go back, but not where you started from, you would go back to the night when you picked Yoongi up from the street.
In simpler terms, you would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timelines.Â
You squeeze your eyes shut tight, pretending not to hear anything at all.Â
Even though you have to summon all of your willpower to do so - you stay still in your bed.Â
Your tears though - keep falling, rolling down the apple of your cheeks and making a small puddle inside the curve of your ear.Â
He keeps rambling on the door.Â
Sometimes the knocks are steady, sometimes infused with anger but his voice stays low. You wouldnât hear him calling your name if you werenât attentive enough.
âY/N! Please open the door.â Yoongi requests again. Through the wood of your door it sounds like a whisper, âPlease. I- I want to see you once.âÂ
Every pore of your body woozes out the desire of letting him in, taking him inside your arms and never ever letting him go.Â
But you are afraid.Â
He has never once visited you by his own will.Â
He only tagged along when you asked him to.Â
So you are afraid.Â
Afraid of what he might say. Afraid that he might say what you donât want to hear. You already know everything - know enough - if he points it out now that he is going to leave you behind as the love of his life is back then you might as well break down, which you definitely donât want to do.Â
You have always appeared to be nonchalant before Yoongi about this arrangement, about his kisses, his marks, his simple ignorance - and you want it to stay that way.Â
However, your resolve breaks when you hear a sob, muffled by the door.Â
Is he crying? Why? Why is he crying at your door?Â
So you get up, pad towards the door and swing it open.Â
Yoongiâs head shoots up and you look at his face.Â
He is a mess - a mess that you love.Â
With dark hair all disheveled, face smeared with tears, lips chapped, Yoongi says, âI am here to end things.âÂ
This. You were afraid of this.Â
Your insides churn and mold into a ball of nothingness. There are words sitting on the tip of your tongue but you choose to stay silent as always.
âOkay.â you reply, holding the door knob again ready to shut it on his beautiful face for once and for all.Â
Yoongi forces his hand at the edge of the door, preventing you from closing it.Â
He steps inside your apartment and within a few moments, you are being pushed to the door, closing it with the force of your back.Â
Yoongi kisses you with everything he has left inside. You kiss him back.Â
You donât know what is happening but if this is for one last time, then you will accept it.Â
Your hands wrap around his neck on their own accord. His chapped lips mold perfectly with your moisturized pair.Â
They move in perfect sync, perfect rhythm - the rhythm of destruction.Â
âY/Nâ Yoongi whispers in between the kiss, âI am sorry.âÂ
You donât pay his words any mind, rather you let your fingers get lost in his long dark hair.Â
The kiss grows hungrier by every second you spend in each otherâs hold.Â
Yoongi starts directing you towards your bedroom and your small apartment space takes no time to be crossed.Â
You soon feel the edge of your bed behind your knees.Â
When you fall back - Yoongi falls with you.Â
He looks into your eyes, his own eyes telling a thousand different stories all together. But tonight, you donât try to read those.Â
Whatâs the point when your own chapter is ending? When memories of you will be left to collect dust on the surface?Â
Whatâs the point when he knows he is going back to the one he has always loved?Â
His rough calloused hand comes in contact with your cheek.Â
âIâm sorry.â he whispers again as he reaches down to place a kiss on your forehead.Â
âIâm sorry.â he kisses your right eye.
âIâm sorry.â he kisses your left eye.
âIâm sorry.â this time itâs the tip of your nose.Â
âIâm sorryâ and lastly itâs your lips.Â
You have never seen Min Yoongi this emotional.Â
After Gyuri left him, he became numb. You were never able to thaw the frozen parts of him.Â
But tonight you see a completely different Yoongi. Is this Gyuriâs magic? Has her return made him a human again?Â
Yoongi - who never touched you or kissed you more than itâs needed, is now apologizing while kissing every small part of your face?Â
You take a sharp breath and reply, âitâs okay.â even though you donât know what he is apologizing for. For not being able to reciprocate your feelings? For using you when you let him? For leaving you behind after tonight?Â
He has already started placing kisses around your jaw, throat, collarbones. His hands fist the hem of your pajama top and he pulls it up revealing your naked chest.Â
He doesnât waste time diving down and taking one of your perked nipples inside his mouth.Â
He sucks on it softly, sweetly - like a lover. Your tears start spilling from your eyes finally. But you completely lose it when you feel his own tears on the mound of your breast. You let him sob, as you sob quietly.Â
It doesnât take much time for your clothes and his clothes to join as a hip on the floor of your bedroom.Â
Yoongi pumps himself, preparing for one last time to enter you. When he lines his cock on your entrance, he takes a quick glance at your face, as if asking for permission.Â
Your tear stained face lights up in a small smile - itâs not fake.Â
He enters you, takes up every corner of your walls, fills you with himself - both of your body and heart.Â
Yoongi doesnât say anything anymore. He pushes himself inside you, pounds into you with an unusual pace.Â
His face comes to rest on the crook of your neck. You embrace him to stay there, stay with you as long as it lasts.Â
For the first time ever, Yoongi doesnât fucks you - he makes love to you.Â
The realization makes you shudder.Â
Why now? Why now out of all the time? Why now when everything is ending?Â
His breath starts getting labored, you feel yourself hanging close to the edge as well.Â
And after a few more thrusts, you let go. He fills you up following your invitation.Â
Both of you stay like that even after the deed is done - for a moment, an hour? You donât know. Â
You feel his disposal running down your inner thigh, when he finally slips out of you.Â
You sneak a glance in his dark orbs for one last time. With a sore throat and an equally sore heart you whisper, âBe happy, Yoongi.âÂ
You see one last drop of tear slipping down his eyes when he dips down to cage your lips in his for one last time.Â
Itâs been a month since that night.Â
Itâs been a month since you last talked to Yoongi beside work.Â
Itâs been a month since you last saw Yoongi outside work.Â
Itâs been a month since you withdrew from Gyuriâs project.
Itâs been more than a month since you had your last period.Â
As you stand in your bathroom, with the tiny testing kit, those two red lines mock you.Â
You thought that night was the last time? But this after effect - where will you go with this? Who will you confide in?Â
It canât be Min Yoongi - can it?Â
You have let him slide through your fingers after all.Â
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what love feels like ŕź myg (m)
â Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasnât happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly headâthat your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.
Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader
AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6.7k+
Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents đĽš, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content
sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together
Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie
a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh đ
Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! đĽ°
âSo, you're Jia's father, huh? I donât think I've seen you here before, and Iâm sure I would have recognized you.â
With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesnât take a genius to figure out; sheâs been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like heâs some kind of remedy to all her problems.
Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This oneâs name is Sandra in particular.
It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?
Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girlâs lab partner. Yoongi didnât make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.
âItâs just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.â Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though itâs proving unsuccessful. âAnd Jia truly is an angel! Itâs clear youâre doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.â
Yoongiâs eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. âThanks,â he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. âMost of the credit goes to my wife though. Sheâs a great mom to Jia.â
âJiaâs m-mom?â Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, heâs a happily married manâfor nearly eight years now.
âYeah,â he replies simply. âSheâs usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but sheâs been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."
âOh, well thatâs veryââ
âDaddy! Daddy, youâre here!â The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adultâs attention.
âHey kid.â Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. âHave fun today?â
Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.
âSee? Itâs me, you, and mommy!â She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.
Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughterâs hand and lets out a soft chuckle. âNow this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommyâs gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?â
As soon as Jiaâs feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. âWe got to get going, but nice meeting you.â
âYouâŚtoo.â Sandraâs response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isnât the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasnât a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.
âNo, Iâm sorry but Iâm certain we havenât used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.â
With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. Youâve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.
âI understand, maâam, and I apologize for any confusion. Iâm taking a look at my records and theyâre all showing me thatâoh wait a second.â
The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.
âWhat did you say your last name is?â
You answer and in an instant, youâre met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. Itâs difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.
âMommy, where are you? Weâre home!â Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.
âItâs alright, these mistakes happen.â You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.
âHey honey, I missed you so much!â You kiss the side of your daughterâs head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. âYou look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didnât he?â
Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. Youâre delightfully surprised by the results.
âMmhm,â Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. âBut Daddy pulls too much!â
âMaybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldnât have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.â Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. âWho was that on the phone? Cable company?â
âYeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.â As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. Heâs especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. Itâs tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.
There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didnât believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.
Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You donât remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasnât happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, youâre not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldnât you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?
âHow was picking up Jia by the way?â You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.
âIt was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,â Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. âIâm gonna go get changed. Why donât you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?â
âA drawing?â You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. âWe should put it up on the fridge then. Letâs take a look hmm?â
âItâs in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.â Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. Youâre fully engaged until the very end. âDaddy made a new friend too!â she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.
âOh, whoâs Daddyâs new friend honey?â You ask, staying as calm as possible.
âMs. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.â
Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms youâve met at daycare. Somehow you canât recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didnât Yoongi mention her when you asked?
This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jiaâs daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldnât dare overstep any boundaries.
âDo you know what they were talking about?â You donât enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you canât seem to help it this time.
âI dunno,â she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."
Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.
For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. Youâve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.
Yes, youâre being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isnât very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but itâs not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldnât think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldnât leave him alone for two semesters.
Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. Youâre a jealous person by nature so itâs not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.
âSo,â Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. âHow was work?â
What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all heâs got? âWas okay,â you reply. âThe usual.â
âYou must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?â Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, itâs clear somethingâs on your mind. Youâve started pairing Jiaâs socks far more aggressively than normal and youâre holding back your responses. âDid you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?â The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.
Youâre about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over himâshe must have thought he was single.
âNo, I didnât get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now Iâm doing the second load of laundry. Iâm really just not in the mood to chat.â It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.
â__, wait.â Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. âI'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss youâŚI miss talking to you."
With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldnât cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.
"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorryâI fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"
You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.
"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."
"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.
"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking andâ"
"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.
"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."
Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."
"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.
"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"
You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know butâŚ"
"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mindâ24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."
The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.
"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."
That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would haveâagain, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.
"OkayâŚwell I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.
"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."
"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.â
"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."
Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."
Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? Itâs not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.
"I guess maybe soâŚthough I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.
"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.
"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.
"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.
"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the sameâmy loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"
Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.
"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.
"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"
"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."
"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"
"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."
"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"
Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."
Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"
"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"
"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."
It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.
"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."
"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.
"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.
"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.
The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.
Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.
"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"
Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jiaâ"
"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"
"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."
You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.
"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"
"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"
"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.
"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.
"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."
"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.
"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."
"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.
"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.
"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.
Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.
What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.
You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.
"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.
"'m, I love you too."
Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.
"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.
"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."
He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"
You whip your head in his direction. "Howâ" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.
"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."
You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.
"Yoon?"
"Mm."
"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.
"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.
"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.
"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.
You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.
"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."
Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.
"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."
His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.
"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."
Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.
"But...you haven't seen meâ"
"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."
"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."
Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.
"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.
Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.
"Can I?"
You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.
With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.
"Fuck," you swear.
"Feeling good?"
All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.
"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.
"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"
He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.
Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.
"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."
"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"
Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.
Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.
You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spinâyou want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.
"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.
"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."
Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"
"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.
"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.
"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.
"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.
"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."
"Really? You're not just teasing me?"
Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truthâhe's truly fucking you so good.
"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.
Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.
"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.
Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.
"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."
Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.
"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."
"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"
Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.
"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until youâre comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"
"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."
"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.
"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.
This is what love feels like.
a/n: LMK what you think đĽ°
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no reposting, copying, or translating my workâ Š kookslastbutton
#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#bts imagine#bts smut#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts au#fic:whatlovefeelslike#kookslastbutton
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Every Little Thing
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy youâve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him.
Word Count: 2k(wtf?!)
Warnings: angst, swearing, only partially proofread
A/N: Thanks so much to the lovely anon who requested this! This story, I... I donât know what happened, I went from struggling to get it to work at all to getting waayy too carried away. I kinda had to stop myself at the end before it shifted into something else, but maybe if yâall want a part two, we can pick up from there?
Masterlist
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As you got off the elevator, you couldnât help the faint bounce in your step as you made your way to Yoongiâs studio, your bag slung over one shoulder, a grocery bag of snacks and drinks for the two of you to share.
Ever since you and Yoongi(and in turn, the rest of the members) had become friends, The Genius Lab had become a hideaway of sorts for you. Whenever you were feeling stressed or overwhelmed, you knew you could call Yoongi, and he would tell you to come over, letting you camp out on his couch while he worked, occasionally asking for your thoughts or opinions on a specific song or line.
As you neared his studio door, you noticed it was slightly ajar, allowing the voices from inside to slip out into the hall, quickly recognizing them as Yoongiâs and Namjoonâs.
âYou wanna come to lunch with me and Hoseok?â Namjoon asked.
âAgh, I canât, I told Y/nâs we could hang out today.â You heard Yoongiâs chair creak as he stretched, letting out a groan.
âAgain? Thatâs like the third time this week, people are gonna start thinking youâre a couple or something at this rate.â Joon joked, making your cheeks flush lightly.
âNah, itâs nothing like that,â Yoongi replied, sounding tired. âTheyâre just being clingier than usual, you know what theyâre like.â
You frowned at his words. What did he mean by that?
âI know itâs just cause theyâve been stressed lately,â Yoongi continued. âBut honestly, itâs gotten to the point where itâs weirder for them to not be here.â
Joon chuckled. âIâm surprised you donât find that annoying.â
âI didnât say that I donât,â Yoongi said. âBut itâs Y/n, so I let it slide. Anyway, on that track you showed me-â
You stepped back from the door, the sudden tightness in your chest making it slightly difficult to breathe as you quietly made your back down the hall to the elevators. As the metal doors closed, you replayed what you had overheard in your head.
Yoongi had always told you that he didnât mind you hanging around, but maybe you had started to abuse that privilege, grown too dependent on him. Was that how he really felt about you? Had you become a nuisance? And if so, why hadnât he said anything?
Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you quickly found his number and hit the call icon, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat before he picked up on the second ring.
âHey, are you almost here?â He answered, sounding much brighter than a few minutes ago.
âUh, actually, I donât think I can make it today.â You said, trying to keep your voice steady.
âIs everything okay?â He asked, concerned.
No, one of my best friends hates me. âYeah, everythingâs fine, something just came up, sorry.â You bit your lip, managing to slip out of the building without running into any of the other members and making your way down the street to the bus stop.
âOkay.â He sounded unconvinced. âIs it anything I can help with, or-?â
âNo, no itâs-, itâs a work thing.â You said, the words falling flat on your own ears. âDonât worry about it, Iâll call you later, okay?â
âAlright.â He said reluctantly. âBye.â
âBye.â You hung up, letting out a deep breath.
You could tell he hadnât believed you, but you didnât really care at the moment. If he wasnât going to be honest with you, why should you be any different?
Suddenly presented with the afternoon to yourself, you decided to head to the park, wandering along the river as you thought over everything.
You and Yoongi had come here together not long after you had moved to the city, the last few blooms of the cherry blossom season clinging on stubbornly to their branches. Heâd promised to bring you back the next year, so you could see them in their full glory at peak bloom.
Of course, life and work had gotten in the way, as they often did, and before either of you had realized, the season had nearly passed again before he could keep his word. Youâd told him at the time that it didnât matter, youâd just been happy to spend time with him, a recurring theme for you apparentlyâŚ
Had you been a bother to him back then as well? You didnât believe so, but the earlier sting of his words had left you questioning everything, even if you knew it might be an over-reaction.
It was dark by the time you made it home, flopping down on the sofa with a tired sigh as you contemplated your options.
So youâd been bugging him lately, that was an easily fixable problem, right? Just leave him alone for a bit, it was as simple as that, wasnât it?
You werenât so sure as your phone suddenly buzzed on the cushion next to you, drawing your attention to Yoongiâs name illuminated on the screen. Youâd forgotten you said youâd call him.
âHadnât heard from you, just wanted to make sure youâre okay?â The text read.
Now whoâs the clingy one? Was your immediate first thought.
âIâm fine, just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.â You typed shortly before turning off your phone and going to bed, with no intention of texting him the next day unless he did so first.
For the next week, you tried to keep up with your new normal; you didnât go by the studio, you avoided texting him unless he did first, and generally avoided his invites to hangout with vague excuses.
One place you couldnât avoid him though was dinner with the other members. It was a monthly tradition that you usually looked forward to, but as you stepped through the door of the restaurant, you only felt a wave of nervousness, for what though exactly you didnât know.
âY/n!â Tae quickly hopped to his feet to give you a hug, the others all greeting you enthusiastically. You noticed Yoongi didnât speak, only nodding to you politely, but his eyes never left you for a second, seeming to study your every move.
âY/n, do you want my seat? I know you usually prefer to sit by Yoongi-hyung.â Jungkook asked, starting to get to his feet, but you quickly waved him to sit.
âItâs okay, you donât have to move for me, Iâm fine over here.â You said, settling in the free seat next to Jimin, which happened to be directly across the table from Yoongi.
Everyone quickly settled into their usual routines and conversations, the mix of voices blurring into an almost comforting buzz, allowing you to zone out for a moment and relax, but a single low voice managed to snap you back to attention.
âI havenât seen you all week.â Yoongi said quietly, a noticeable heaviness in his voice.
âYeah, things have just been kinda busy.â You tried to say convincingly, but it was hard to pull off under his gaze. Luckily, Jin asked you about something from the show youâd been watching and gave you an easy out of the conversation.
You managed to get through the evening well enough, talking with the others, even making plans with Jimin for him to help you pick out some new furniture for your apartment. Youâd felt Yoongiâs eyes on you all evening, but hadnât said anything.
It was later that night when you were pulled from sleep by the sound of someone knocking persistently on your front door.
Cautiously, you climbed out of bed and padded to the door.
Whoâs there?â You called anxiously, trying to remember where youâd put your old baseball bat, in case you needed to defend yourself.
âItâs Yoongi.â
You froze, staring at the door in surprise for a second before going over and peering out the peephole.
Sure enough, he was standing on your doorstep, causing a brief sense of relief that was quickly replaced with confusion and the same nervousness from earlier.
Not quite knowing what else to do, you cracked the door open slowly, taking in his slightly disheveled state; hair mussed and faint bags under his eyes. He looked the same way as when he would pull all-nighters at the studio.
âWhat are you doing here?â You asked.
âWhyâve you been avoiding me?â He responded with his own question, staring you down.
âI-, I havenât-â
âDonât lie.â He stopped you.
Glancing around quickly, you pulled him inside, not wanting to have this discussion in the hall.
âYouâve been dodging my texts and calls, you wouldnât sit with me at dinner, you asked Jimin for help with furniture shopping, which you know heâs terrible at.â He continued as you closed the door. âSo, tell me please, what has happened to make you start ditching me?â
âWhy didnât you tell me that I was annoying you?â You snapped.
He stopped, staring at you in confusion. âWhat?â
âI heard you and Joon talking last week,â You said, his face falling as the memory came flooding back. âAbout how clingy Iâve been, and how Iâve been annoying you by hanging around so much.â
âYou havenât been-â
âDonât.â It was your turn to cut him off. âDonât try to tell me that itâs not true or you didnât mean it. What I want to know is why you werenât just honest with me?â You hated the way your voice started to shake as you spoke. âWhy didnât you just tell me to fuck off or something? Why do you put up with me if I'm such an annoyance?!â
âBecause I fucking love you!â He blurted out.
You froze, staring at him in shock. âWhat?!â
âI-, I love you.â He said quietly.
âYou love me?â You repeated, hurt and frustration still churning in your stomach, not letting you take his words to heart. âYou love me, but you think Iâm annoying?â
âI think everyoneâs annoying!â He tossed his hands up in frustration. âThe difference is that I like your annoyance!
âI like that youâre loud and weird and make terrible jokes, I like that you nag me to take better care of myself.â He said. âI like that youâre happy holed up in my studio with me. I like that you sing along to every song that you recognize, even without realizing that youâre doing it.â
He took a cautious step closer, pleading with his eyes as he spoke.
âI like every little annoying thing that you do, because theyâre what make you you. Iâm so sorry that I made you think anything otherwise.â
You hadnât moved as he spoke, fighting the tremble in your lip as your eyes had misted over with tears.
âY/n?â He asked anxiously.
You didnât speak, choosing instead to lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him in a bruising hug. He staggering back slightly at the force of the collision, arms immediately coming up to hold you in an equally tight embrace.
âI missed you.â You sniffled, burying your face in his chest.
âI missed you too.â He replied, holding you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your head. âIâm also sorry for telling you I loved you in a shitty way.â
âEh, itâs kinda on brand for us, honestly.â You teased, making him let out a huff of laughter.
âI guess youâre right, fuck.â He shook his head.
âYou wanna try again?â You offered.
He pulled back to look at you. âReally?â
You nodded. âIf you want to.â
He nodded, pulling away enough to take your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as he pressed his lips together nervously, eyes shaking slightly as he met your gaze.
âI love you, Y/n.â
Heâd barely gotten the last word out before your lips were on his, effectively shutting you both up for the next several minutes.
When you finally pulled back, his eyes were blown wide, lips swollen and red from your assault, his breaths coming out in shaky puffs.
âI love you too, by the way.â You said, grinning at his slightly dazed expression.
âCool, câmere.â He said, pulling you back in, making you giggle as he eagerly reconnected your mouths.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
#yoongi drabble#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader#yoongi scenarios#yoongi oneshot#bts x y/n#bts x reader#bts requests#bts angst#bts fluff#bts drabble#bts one shot#7ndipity
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bouquet | myg
summary. every day with you serves as a reminder that you are, in fact, the best thing that has happened to him
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: established relationsip au, fluff
word count: 1.3k
content: oc buys yoongi flowers / my man is whipped
warnings: none <333
notes: u can find the post explaining how i imagine yoongi and ocâs apartment here (in case u wanna visualise it better) likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback are so appreciated!! i hope you guys enjoy <333
ââââ
main masterlist
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The fresh scent of flowers tickles your nose as you hold the bouquet close to your chest. You can't help but pride yourself in your selection as you admire the pale colours that caress each petal; an arrangement of pinks the same shade as the blush you often find creeping across your cheeks, oranges that mimic the morning sky on a winter day, yellows that remind you of the sunshine that warms your eyelids as you lie in bed during summer, and whites that reflect the hue of the moon.
It may not be perfect, but it's just right for your boyfriend â this you're sure of. Because it's Yoongi who causes your blushes and watches the sunrise with you in his arms despite the chilly weather; it's Yoongi who convinces you to stay in bed for "just a bit longer", until the day is almost gone but it doesn't feel wasted because it was spent with him.
Yoongi illuminates the dark skies that often haunt you, lighting up even your dullest days in his own way. And he whispers sweet nothings in your ear at night as if they're words from the moon itself.
Getting Yoongi flowers wasn't something you set out in the morning intending to do. You had come across the bouquets on your way back home from work, catching sight of them in the window of a quaint flower shop tucked in the corner of a street. It still baffles you how you had managed to not see the building for so long despite knowing the street like the back of your hand.
It was hard to miss too, given the amount of intricately put together bouquets wrapped in parchment paper and potted plants that were displayed on wooden stands just outside. They spilt out across the sidewalk, painting the grey town with the pop of colour it desperately needed.
You don't know what it was, but nothing had felt more right for you to do at that moment. So you marched in and paid an outrageous amount of money without a second thought.
And now, here you were â unable to hide the smile on your face despite the burn on your cheeks â watching the elevator ascend to the floor of your apartment. The pixelated numbers seemed to be moving slower than usual today, but you didn't linger on it for too long.
Eventually, the steel doors part to let you out, and you walk down the empty hallway to your apartment. It's a struggle to unlock the door with the flowers in one hand and your tote bag flimsily slung around your other shoulder, but you manage.
The door opens with a familiar creak and you step inside.
The immediate aroma of food that hits you is sudden, but also mouth-watering. You make your way down to the source of the smell â the kitchen â to find Yoongi working away at the stove.
A short towel hands around his neck, catching the droplets of water that fall from the ends of his hair. A loose, black t-shirt hangs on his figure, along with a pair of grey sweatpants. He hums an oddly staccato tune to himself, completely immersed in whatever he's cooking.
"Hi."
Yoongi's gaze immediately moves from the dish in front of him to you, a smile spreading across his face.
"Hello." He meets your eyes for a brief second before moving down to the flowers. He quirks an eyebrow, lifting his gaze again. "Special occasion?"
"No. I got them for you...just because," you reply with a shrug, walking over to him with the bouquet outstretched in your hands.
"Oh. I- Thank you." You don't fail to catch the tint of pink that creeps across his skin, slowly becoming prominent around the tips of his ears as he takes the flowers from your hand.
He stares at the arrangement for a few seconds, and you feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. He would like them, right?
"So, whatcha cooking?" you ask, eyeing the pot of noodles. A small pile of thinly cut cucumber rests on a cutting board just beside the stove, but before you can take in everything else displayed across the marble, Yoongi's lips are on yours.
You melt into the kiss almost instantly. Your heart soars in your chest and the nerves in your stomach wash away, only to be replaced by the erratic flutter of butterflies.
Yoongi tastes faintly of mint and love, and the pressure of his kiss is slightly stronger than usual â as if he's reminding you of who his heart belongs to, even though you're already well aware.
The feeling of knowing that you're loved is almost overwhelming, but you bask in it, unable to stop your lips from spreading into a smile against his mouth.
"God, I love you so much," Yoongi mumbles as he pulls back, tenderly moving a few strands of your hair behind your ear, and you giggle at his words.
"I love you too, baby," you reply. His eyes crinkle into soft crescent moons, and he places another peck against your lips.
"Where do you think we should put it?" He does a quick scan of the room and you follow his movements. The coffee table would've been your first option, but it's occupied by the flowers he got you on your most recent date.
"Hmm." Your eyes move down the room. "I think it should look fine in the bedroom."'
Yoongi hums in agreement. "You're right. I'll put them here for now, 'cause I'm fucking starving right now."
"Oh my God, same," you reply as he places the bouquet on the marble island behind him. "What are you making anyway?"
"Just jajangmyeon. You mentioned wanting it last night, so I thought I'd make it for you. Didn't want you to get food poisoning like last time when we went to that sketchy restaurant."
"You're amazing," you say, loudly kissing him on the cheek. "I was literally craving it all day today."
Yoongi lets out a soft chuckle. "I knew you would be. Don't worry, it'll be ready pretty soon."
"I'll go get changed then. Don't burn down the house!"
"That's rich coming from you," he says with a snort.
You feign innocence with a shrug. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Mhm, sure you don't."
As you leave the kitchen, your laughter still echoing in the room, Yoongi lingers by the bouquet. A feeling of warmth blooms across his skin, and he's sure that it has nothing to do with the stove.
Even as he continues to stir the noodles, the only thing he is focused on is the single thought in his head.
You really are the best thing that has happened to him.
#tanniâs works đď¸#bts#min yoongi#yoongi#suga#bts suga#bts yoongi#bts min yoongi#bts fluff#yoongi fluff#bts angst#yoongi angst#bts smut#yoongi smut#bts x reader#yoongi x reader#bts x oc#yoongi x oc#bts x y/n#yoongi x y/n#bts x you#yoongi x you#bts oneshot#yoongi oneshot#bts drabble#yoongi drabble#bts imagine#yoongi imagine#bts scenarios#yoongi scenarios
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đâËâš bbydaddy!yoongi (7) âđâËâš
series m.list // taglist
note: yoongi and oc have the what r we talk,, have a few awh moments,, and r jus so cute... anyways,, my apologies as i'll be fixing my taglist next week ,, too busy n just trying to push out content lol !!! also PLEASE BE SURE TO LEAVE UR @ IN THE COMMENT BOX FOR SPECIFIC FIC TAGLIST STUFF (in the taglist form)
EDIT: mochi < injeolmi
//
as yoongi stands outside your door with a plastic bag swinging in one handâall he can really think about is how amused he is from the 2AM craving text.
he takes a breath, raises his hand to knock, but the door opens before he can and there you stand with puffy cheeks streaked with the telltale signs of crying.Â
his smile drops instantly.
âhey,â yoongiâs voice softens, concern etching into his features. â___, what happened? w-why are you crying?â
you try to muster a smile but fail. your lips tremble as you glance at the bag in his hand. letting out a shaky laugh, you wipe your face and take a deep breath in.Â
âi donât even really want pickles and peanut butter,â you admit. âi just⌠itâs⌠this isnât about a pregnancy craving, yoongi.âÂ
yoongiâs brows knit together and he steps forward. closing the space between you two, suddenly you feel a rush of guilt.Â
âokay, then what is it about?â his voice is gentle. he places the bag on the floor so he can rest a hand on your arm, grounding and reassuring. "everything okay? you okay?"
you looks up at him, eyes glassy and full of a vulnerability.Â
âi justâŚâ you take another breath, steadying yourself. âi didnât know how to tell you i wanted you here. just you. no excuses, no weird cravings.â
yoongiâs eyes widen, confusion and something else flashing across his face.
âwaitâyou couldâve just asked me to come over. i wouldâve dropped everything to be here. you know that, right?â
a tear slips down your cheek. shaking your head, a sad smile forms.Â
âyeah. weâre friends, yoongi, but weâre not friends.â you say, emphasizing the word. a pang of bitterness lingers. âweâre not close like that. i guess iâm just freaking out because as much as i want thisâfuck, i want this so bad⌠iâm upset that iâm having a baby with someone i canât even ask to come over without making up an excuse. does that make sense?â
yoongiâs heart clenches.Â
heâs struck speechless for a moment. then he sighs and runs his hand through his hair.Â
âi get it,â he says quietly. his hand still rests on your arm. he squeezes it lightly. âcan i come in? letâs talk about this please.â
you nod and move aside for him.Â
yoongi steps into your apartment, closing the door softly behind him.
he heads to the kitchen, methodically placing the jars of pickles and peanut butter on the counter. his movements are slower than usual as the weight of the moment settles in.Â
when he turns, he watches you retreat toward your bedroom and for a secondâconfusion prickles at the back of his mind.Â
why arenât we sitting in the living room? he wonders.Â
heâs never been inside your bedroom before.Â
⌠but he follows you anyway, trailing behind you like a shadow.
the room feels more intimate than he expected.
the walls holding a quiet familiarity, but also the tension of something unspoken. you two stand there for a beat, the silence stretching until you blurt out;
âs-sorry. uh, the couch makes my back hurt if i sit there too long. iâm more comfortable in here. is that okay?âÂ
yoongi takes in your words, a small pang of concern for her comfort, and nods, his usual nonchalance cracking just a bit.Â
then, you both settle on the bed.
the awkwardness between you two is palpable. yoongi braces himself for the conversation they both know is coming, hoping the closeness will bridge the distance theyâve been struggling to cross.
âare you regretting this?â you ask, voice quiet and afraid.Â
yoongi shakes his head instantly.Â
âno. iâm not,â he answers. âare you?â
you also shake your head.Â
âno⌠but, i do wish i thought it through more.âÂ
he titls his head. âspecifically about what? about me?â
you bite bottom lip, trying to find the words to explain how you feel about him. how you feel about everything between you twoâŚ
and itâs hard.
itâs difficult because you never had to think twice about yoongi and your friendship.
friends.Â
until sometimes, when you two are alone.. itâs friends.Â
âletâs be honest,â yoongi begins, cutting your thoughts short. âweâve always had this weird⌠in-between thing. but if you need me, you donât have to make excuses. iâm already here, aren't i? and iâm committed to the babyâour baby. to you, even⌠so, tell me where your headspace is at. iâll match it. iâll place myself in between where you need me and where i want to be for you. you just have to tell me what you want, ___.â
you look at him, eyes searching his for something⌠then, yoongi continues, his voice sincere and steady.
âweâre about to have a child together, yeah, but more than that⌠i care about you. always have. so, please donât think that you have to put up walls or hide what you need from me, okay? i want to see through it. i want to see through you.â
you take a breath, relief washing over her as you nod.Â
âokay.âÂ
and in that small word, a bridge starts to form between themâsomething real and raw and hopeful.
you and yoongi have never been close.Â
there has never been a moment where you were in trouble and thought to yourself; shit i need yoongiâs help.
no.Â
there was always hyemi, nam joon, jin, hoseok, jimin, taehyung and jungkook before yoongi. not that you liked him the leastâif anything; considering the current happeningsâmaybe you like him the most. but besides that, you two are truly just decent friends.Â
everyone in the friendgroup is.Â
you laugh at the same jokes, make fun of nam joon when he says something ridiculous, and have each otherâs backs when neededâbut thatâs it.Â
or at least it should be.
again, until youâre alone together... then, itâs different.Â
thereâs this undercurrent.
something unspoken that takes all makes it hard to breathe. itâs the way he leans in when heâs talking to you. itâs the subtle touches he probably doesnât think about⌠all these vague flirting moments leave you second-guessing⌠but you know what is it. you know who he is.Â
and thatâs whatâs confusing.Â
in the midst of this in-betweenâyou donât know how to word what he makes you feel.Â
safe?
nervous?
loved?
and now with the baby; it should be more complicated. everything in your life feels more complicated but somehow; what you areâor what you arenâtâhasnât changed at all.Â
youâre still friends.
friends.Â
âcan we talk about this?â you speak out. âlike first⌠what are we?â
yoongiâs eyes widen.Â
he wasnât ready for this question, but he also doesnât hate it. heâs been wanting to know too. heâs been thinking about it too.Â
âwhat do you want us to be?âÂ
you gulp, not knowing if heâll like the answer youâre about to give.Â
âfriends,â you tell him. âis that ridiculous?â
yoongi shrugs. âonly if you make it to be.â
âitâs just⌠i feel like i need to get to know you more. i didnât even save your number in my phone until last year. weâve been friends for over 3 years, yoongi⌠also, i donât know your favourite colour. i donât know your birthdate because i always confuse it with hobiâs⌠yours is in february, right?â
âmarch.â
you throw your head back, letting out a sharp and loud hiss.Â
âfuckâs-see what i mean?â you take a breath and regulate. then, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. âiâm sorry. weâve been decent friends but truth be told sometimes i feel like a stranger to you. i didnât think this throughââ
âitâs fine,â yoongi says, patting your back. âweâre not complete strangers. you know things about me, ___. donât act like you donât just because youâre scared. and, you know what? we can get to know each other more as the pregnancy goes on. besides, once the baby comes outâyouâre stuck with me for life. i mean, itâs our baby.â
your lips curve into a small smile.Â
âis our baby gonna have two cribs?â you blurt. âhyemi made a passing comment and for some reason i keep picturing it. two cribs.. two sets of clothes.. two homes.. two car seatsââ
âone then,â yoongi simplifies it for you. âmove in with me or i move in with you.â
you blink at him.Â
â...hear me out,â yoongi says, voice calm but his eyes serious, holding yours as if heâs trying to make sure every word sticks. âwe already spend so much time togetherâin our friendgroup setting at least⌠and i know it wonât be perfect. weâll annoy each other, iâm sure, but itâll be easier. for both of us. we wonât have to juggle back and forth or worry about where the baby should be or whose place has what.â
you swallow.Â
the image of two cribs still lingering in your mind, mixing with the new picture heâs paintingâone home, one set of everything, a shared life that feels both thrilling and terrifying.Â
âyoongiâŚâ you start, your voice wavering. âitâs not just about convenience. moving in together means⌠a lot. and what if we make things harder? what if it complicates everything more than it should?â
he nods, understanding the hesitation even as he inches a little closer, his presence grounding you.Â
âi get that,â he says. âbut weâve already made things complicated, havenât we?â his lips curve into a small, almost hopeful smile. âthis way, at least, weâll be complicated together. and if it doesnât work, weâll figure it out, for the babyâs sake. we owe it to themâand to ourselvesâto at least try.â
you want to say yes.
to fall into this idea of a shared space, of yoongi always being just a few steps away, but the weight of uncertainty keeps you frozen.Â
âi donât know,â you murmur, dropping your gaze to your hands. âitâs a big step⌠and iâm scared of what it could mean⌠for us.â
yoongi reaches over, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.Â
âiâm scared too,â he admits softly. âbut iâd rather try and fail than not try at all. just⌠think about it, okay? no pressure. maybe a timer though. baby is coming soon.â
you finally look up, meeting his eyes, the sincerity there chipping away at your worries. a small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips.Â
âhahaha⌠okay. yeah, iâll think about it,â you promise, and the room feels a little lighter, hope lingering between you both. "... what if we buy baby things and leave it at yours? i think... i do want to move in with you. i think your points make sense and honestly? i've been thinking about us a lot... let's just do it slowly, okay?"
yoongi leans back slightly, studying your expression before he continues.Â
âokay, if weâre doing this, I want to do it right,â he says, the seriousness of his tone making you focus. âsince we're confessing.. truth be told, iâve been struggling with this entire thing too. ___, i donât want to be the dad who just shows up when itâs convenient or only takes half the responsibility. until we figure out the whole moving-in thing⌠i need you to keep me in the loop. not even the loopâin it. everything, okay? every appointment, every little thing the doctor says. even if itâs something silly, like craving pickles at 2 in the morning, call me. i want to be here. i meant it when i said i need you to figure out how to need me.âÂ
you nod slowly, his words settling into your chest. the way heâs looking at youâitâs like heâs already preparing himself for every moment he might miss if you donât.
âand i'm serious about appointments,â yoongi adds, his voice softening just a little, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile. âi want to know every detail. hear the heartbeat, see the ultrasounds, even if it means i have to reschedule work. screw it, honestly. you and baby are my priority⌠iâm gonna do everything to make you know that you deserve to feel like weâre doing this together.â
a lump forms in your throat, and you swallow, feeling the weight of his commitment.Â
âyou really mean that,â you say quietly, more to yourself than him. âyoongiâŚâ
âof course, i do.â he pauses, his eyes holding yours with that steady, unwavering calm. âwe might not be close, but this baby deserves two parents who are trying their best. and maybeâŚâ he hesitates, his voice dropping lower. âmaybe this will help us become more than just friends who share stolen glances. more than whatever weird, in-between thing we have.â
a beat.
âshit, do we have to talk about that now?â
he laughs.Â
âno,â he shrugs. âiâm not in a rush. iâm cool with taking things slow. i have a lifetime with you anyway. also have a feeling you'll be moved in with me in a week or two.â
you roll your eyes and he chuckles.
then, youâre silent for a moment, processing the vulnerability heâs showing, the way heâs extending himself for both you and the baby.Â
âokay,â you finally say. âiâll call more. iâll update you on everything. breakfast and prenatals and all.â
yoongi snickers at you. â... and when weâre finally living together⌠weâll figure out a routine that works for both of us. weâll make it as easy as possible⌠for all three of us.â
before you know it, you launch yourself at him.
you wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your torso, returning the hug without hesitations. for a moment, it feels safe, like heâs anchoring you to something solid amidst all the uncertainty.
when you pull away, you glance up at him, nerves tightening in your chest.Â
âcan you⌠stay the night?â you ask, your voice softer than you mean it to be. âi guess thatâs what i meant with the pickles and peanut butter.â
yoongi snorts at you.Â
âi knew it.â
he earns a hit to his chest, but he takes it like a champ. even though heâs teasing you, thereâs something so reassuring in the way he says it.Â
âi'm already in my pajamas... iâll just use the bathroom real quick. be right back.â
as yoongi makes his way to the bathroom, he flicks on the light and notices the little details of your life scattered around the sink. toothpaste, skincare products, andâŚ
a blue toothbrush placed neatly next to yours.Â
his heart stumbles at the sight, realization washing over him.Â
itâs for him.Â
you had thought about him even in the smallest of ways, planning for him to be here.
what the fuck is his heart supposed to do with this?
it tugs.
it skips a beat.
it races.
it falls for you a little more.
when he returns to your bedroom, he finds you already lying in bed, looking smaller and more vulnerable under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. he hesitates, unsure of how to fit into this space with you. the silence stretches awkwardly between you both as he slips under the covers.
neither of you knows quite how to lie together.Â
you both fidget, trying not to make it more awkward, until you shift uncomfortably, a small wince escaping your lips.Â
âugh,â you mumble, âmy back hurts.â
yoongi is at your side instantly. his nonchalant demeanor slipping away as he sits up.Â
âhere, let me help,â he murmurs, carefully guiding you to reposition. his hands are gentle but firm as he encourages you to lie partially against him, your body leaning into his. he wraps his arms around your belly, cradling you and the baby, and nuzzles his face into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath sends a small shiver down your spine, but it melts away as you sink into his embrace.
you both stay still, letting the comfort settle in. slowly, the awkwardness ebbs, replaced by a sense of calm as you relax against him.
just as youâre on the edge of sleep, you murmur something faintly.Â
âyoongi?â
âmhmm?
âinjeolmi...â you whisper.
yoongi stirs, confused.Â
âhuh?â he whispers back, trying not to disturb you too much. âare you craving injeolmi? iâll get you some tomorrowââ
you smile sleepily, eyes already closed.Â
âno.. our baby looks like injeolmi,â you explain, your words trailing off into drowsiness. âthe ultrasound⌠injeolmi. letâs call our baby injeolmi for now.â
yoongi heart squeezes at the endearing name, a small smile tugging at his lips.Â
âinjeolmi,â he repeats, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. âokay. baby injeolmi it is.â
wrapped in each otherâs warmth, you both drift off, with yoongi holding you close. all he thinks about before falling asleep is;
baby injeolmi, you are so loved.
#bts dilf au#bts daddy au#yoongi daddy#yoongi dad au#yoongi x yn#yoongi x reader#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#bts fluff#bts angst#bts scenario#yoongi imagine#yoongi series#yoongi smau#bts smau
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ex-things - m.yg.
genre: angst (after breakup!) (4.8k)
summary: over the years, everything you've owned has belonged to yoongi and everything yoongi's owned has belonged to you but when you break up, everything is your's and everything is his but none of it belongs to the two of you anymore and both of you can't stand it.
masterlist
-
âscarf,â you say as soon as yoongi appears at the door, you fail to hide your smile when he throws his head back in exasperation and throws the door open.
you push past him and enter his apartment which lookedâŚexactly the same.
but then again, you did just break up some ten minutes ago so, of course, it would be the same.
you donât know why you expected the universe to shift just because your heart was broken.
and as you throw back the cushions on his sofa, push the things on his coffee table, look under the sofa and table, and walk past him to check the coat rack and then the kitchen, you feel his piercing gaze following your every step.
you knew where it was.
it was in your bedroom.
or well, his bedroom now.
âcan you hurry the fuck up?â he groans and in that second, you eye the black plastic cover filled with two or three soju bottles sitting on his kitchen counter.
you swallow and yell back, âcan you just let me look for my scarf in peace?â
another groan.
a stomp on the floor.
âfuck, iâll mail it to you,â yoongi makes his way into the kitchen with loud steps and you arch your eyebrow at him, then look towards the green bottles shining on his counter, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and spits out, âi was going to drink today before anything ever happened, donât feel too special.â
âreally?â you muse, clinking them against each other, and in the next second, yoongiâs hand is wrapped around your wrist and heâs pulling you, gently, towards the door.
âiâll send it when i find it,â he murmurs as he pushes your coat, your car keys, and your phone into your hands, and you donât say anything for a while.
you clutch your belongings and stand by the door until you notice how yoongi's eyes are bloodshot, their usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. his shoulders rounded with an invisible weight, and you feel guilty for leaving.
âa-are you okay?â you ask, it feels stupid to ask because you know, you were the same as him.
he laughs bitterly and throws you a glare, you notice how his hands tremble beside his body, and you look away to save him and yourself from the pain of asking again.
âi just broke up with my girlfriend of three years, so yeah, iâm doing fantastic,â he breathes out, you wonder if it pains him like itâs paining you to hear his words, ânow, can you leave?â yoongi gestures towards the door again.
you sigh, âwait a minute,â and enter your his home again.
âwhat now?â he throws his hands in the air and stomps after you.
he watches you grab the scarf from under his bed, he turns his eyes away when he sees your hands shaking while holding it, âdid you know where it was?â yoongi breathes out, his face and voice in disbelief.
you donât say anything again.
and when you leave, he pours himself glass over glass to forget the trembling of your jaw and how you paced around the apartment while knowing exactly where you kept the scarf.
he laughs again, the sound is strange, rough, and just wrong without your laugh chiming with him.
he pours himself a glass again.
-
itâs been a week.
âhi,â you say as yoongi walks into his house, he jumps a little, clutching his chest as his eyes widen to look for you.
you raise a hand to wiggle your fingers at him as a âhello, hi, ex-boyfriend, youâre back at your home and so am i!â and yoongi blinks.
âwhat the fuck are you doing here?â
âoh, i was loo-â
âwait wait, how did you even get in?â yoongi frantically marched to his front door and twisted the knob to check for any damages and you roll your eyes.
âi found your key under the potted plant. speaking of which, do you want to get robbed or something, why would you even put it there?â you throw your hands in the air as you sip tea, grimacing as the strange, bitter taste of yoongiâs favorite green tea spreads in your mouth.
âfirst of all, stop drinking my tea, you donât even like itâ you put the cup down with a sheepish smile and fold your hands on the table.
âand second of all, i didnât think i had to worry about any ex-girlfriends breaking in, my bad,â yoongi complains loudly and you press your palms to your ears, shaking your head, âiâm not even here to see you, iâm here forâŚwell, iâm here for,â you struggle to finish the sentence.
and yoongi glares at you.
âwhat is it?â as he moves his head to pin his glare on you, his soft, freshly straightened hair moves with him.
âstraightener!â you say loudly, clapping your hands, and yoongiâs eyebrows narrow again, âyouâre going to get wrinkles, yoongi.â you point at his eyebrows but he doesnât let up, youâre sure that his eyebrows furrowed deeper.
âokay! iâll be on my way once i get that,â you wander off into his bedroom and yoongi throws his head back in exasperation.
your straightener is easy to find because well, itâs not yours, itâs his and itâs just sitting on his vanity but yoongi doesnât bat an eye at that.
he only watches you move around his home with his arms crossed on his chest and an unreadable satisfaction on his face.
and when you leave, you canât help but notice that for all his annoyance, he never tells you to not come back, and he never tells you to find everything you own and leave at once.
with that knowledge, you leave his home with the biggest grin on your face.
-
âyou need to get out before my booty call gets here,â you happily eat your ice cream on the kitchen counter as yoongi walks into your home as if he owned it.
did you mention that he was the one to bring you ice cream?
your favorite too, one scoop of hazelnut and one scoop of brownie.
âha ha, very funny, you should start thinking of a career in stand-upâ he responds with a roll of his eyes and you giggle even more, sliding down to catch up with his pace around your home.
âwhat are you here for?â
ât-shirt, you know the one you stole,â yoongi shrugs and glares again, walking right into your room and you follow with hands closed behind your back, âwhich one?â you muse as you remember all the (10) t-shirts youâve stolen from him.
he looks back as he nears the closet, eyes narrowing at you, âhow many do you have?â
âhow many can you remember that i have?â
yoongi groaned in sheer frustration and you crawled on your bed, watching him pick apart your closet, and glaring at you whenever he found one of his t-shirts in there.
for a moment, it was amusing.
it was the funniest thing to watch yoongi get annoyed, you always enjoyed it.
but in the next moment, when he was around his fifth t-shirt, you felt this ache slowly develop in your chest and spread across your throat and then your mouth, then it was everywhere.
it was this dull throbbing that you couldnât shake and your eyes dropped to fiddle with your fingers instead of looking at him, collecting his belongings from your home.
because, just two weeks ago, it had been your t-shirts too, hadnât they? and it wasnât just your home then, it was yours and his, wasnât it? sure, you had separate apartments but it never felt like that, it felt like you had two homes and both homes belonged to both of you.
and now, you only had one.
you had wrapped your arms around his back when he was in your room two weeks ago, he was here now but you couldnât even touch a hair on his head without feeling like youâve crossed a line.
your head was starting to collect the ache and make a home for it so you ask, âare you almost done?â
you didnât mean to ask him that, you actually very, very badly wanted yoongi never to leave so you could believe again, âi have two homes, i have two toothbrushes, two mugs, two keys, two doors, and two of everythingâ but yoongi pauses, he collects the t-shirts he found and nods, âyeah, iâm done.â
when he walks out of your room, the ache finally takes over your head and you follow him with dazed eyes and stumbling feet.
at the door, yoongi stops, he turns around with concern brimming in his eyes and that is enough for your hands to shake again, âyou good?â
âi just broke up with my boyfriend of three years, so yeah, iâm doing fantastic,â you deepen your voice to mimic his and yoongi shakes his head with a small laugh, âyou better be okay,â he says at the end, and his voice is so soft, it feels like cotton pressed into your cheeks.
and you nod because if yoongi says you have to be okay, youâll find a way to be okay.
but when he leaves, you are back to having just one home, with one toothbrush in the bathroom, one mug in the kitchen, one set of keys in your purse, one door, and one of everything else.
and youâre sorry to yoongi.
because you donât know if you can be okay.
-
a couple days passed again.
you had an angry yoongi pacing in front of you as you watched.
âyouâre being ridiculous,â yoongi shoves a hand through his hair, glaring at you as you sit with arms across your chest and refusing to look at him.
âiâm not,â you huff out and he rolls his eyes.
he did that a lot.
he did that a lot with you.
âi didnât steal your plushie, are you fucking kidding me?â yoongi whines and walks away into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.
you follow him and right at the doorway, you donât enter, you just watch his even more sunken eyes and even more rounded shoulders with conflicted eyes.
a part of you wanted to hug him.
a part of you wouldnât mind killing him.
a part of you wanted to kiss his shoulders to lift them.
a part of you wanted to leave a red mark on his face.
but all parts of you, you couldnât trust or believe.
these past few days, you couldnât trust or believe anything actually.
yoongi senses your eyes on him, he knows how you look at him and how you seem to show so much with just a gaze but he holds strong.
you were broken up.
you shouldnât be here.
hell, heâs not sure if he should be here or not either.
but he betrays himself over and over again, he lets you into his house and you let him into yours, and he feels ridiculous every time he closes your door, heâs not sure what you feel when you close his.
âi threw it away,â he shrugs his shoulders, eye muscles tensing oddly, heâs not sure if you notice or not.
âwhat?â your whisper is so quiet, yoongi wouldnât have known you were speaking if he didnât see your lips moving.
âi threw it, okay? there was no use of it being around here anymore, so i fucking threw it away,â he didnât mean for his voice to be loud, and he didnât mean for his words to hurt but maybe he did, maybe he wanted to hurt you.
but he loves you?
but heâs also okay with hurting you.
to an extent.
yoongi had never understood why he couldnât love properly, why his love for others and himself had to hold a touch of pain, a touch of misery, but it was always out of his control.
it had been different with you.
for a while, that is.
but he was back to his roots now, pain and misery and love and affection held his hands and danced around him.
and he had to dance with them too.
âi threw it,â he repeated, but your plushie was tucked into his pillows, into his sleep, and into his days and nights.
it was stained with salty tears now, it was stained with the ice cream he ate after he left your home, and he didnât want you to see it.
for a moment, you both didnât even twitch in the wrong direction, yoongi watched the dark liquid in his cup with growing intensity and you waited for him to tell you that your plushie was safe.
âfine,â you sniffled, grabbing your coat and stomping to the door and yoongi followed, he tried not to but his feet walked ahead of his mind.
at the door, you angrily shoved your feet into your sneakers and pushed your hair out of your face, as if to prove that you werenât crying, that you werenât affected and anyone else would believe you.
but yoongi knows you.
and he knows your red nose and cheeks can only mean one thing.
before you close his door, you say, âyouâre a horrible person, yoongi.â
he thinks he knows what you feel when you close his door now.
hatred.
-
you swore to yourself that that would be the last time you turn up at his place, but you had genuinely forgotten something there and needed it this time, so you swallowed your pride and rang his doorbell.
you donât greet him when he opens the door and yoongi feels like he could fall to his knees when you shove a bag with his favorite ice cream, matcha, and coffee (heâs a caffeine guy, he runs on it), into his hands and yoongi knows heâs forgiven.
âi forgot my trousers here,â you mumble afterward and head straight into his closet to dig through for the work trousers that you cannot live without.
yoongi doesnât dare to utter a word, he looks through his closet beside you and apologizes when his skin touches yours in any little way.
you canât believe there was a time when you would touch him as if his body was yours too and he would touch you the same. but his apologies just dug the truth deeper into your skin, which was that you didnât belong to him, and he didnât belong to you.
so, you nod, you bear your cheeks heating up and thighs going weak, and just look through his neatly organized piles of clothes too.
he used to organize your stuff too, he used to section them, fold them, and keep them neatly by his clothes.
thatâs how you find your trousers, crisp folds, and fresh-smelling, right beside his work clothes.
and your heart squeezes as you pull it out.
the folds loosen, the trousers limp in your hands, and that small change in its structure, makes you think of yoongi and everything that fell apart with him.
when you leave that day, you pause at the door and whisper, âyouâre not horrible, yoongi, but maybe i am, maybe i ruined everything, but please donât hate me.â
before he can catch you and wipe your tears and tell you that you were right last time, he was the horrible one, he was the one who texted late, who came home late, who missed birthdays, but you were already running away and he was left with a lit cigarette burning his throat.
-
âi swear, it was here,â yoongi shifts the things around your closet, head buried deep in shelves and racks of clothes and shoes, you stand at the doorway with your arms crossed against your chest, trying not to roll your eyes.
âand you have a million other headphones, so i donât understand why you would need to find this one,â you step into the room and lazily move things around to try and find it too, yoongi scoffs from a few feet away, âit was special to me,â he says and turns his back to you again.
âwhy?â
âmy grandfather gave it to me,â yoongi huffs, and his hands stay busy.
but.
âyour grandfather died when you were five,â there was no way his grandpa gave it to him and you know youâve caught him.
he couldâve at least tried harder with his lies.
it was strange, seeing him here, standing in your bedroom, surrounded by things that no longer belonged to both of you.
you donât think youâll ever get over that feeling of loss.
the moisturizer you wouldâve shared with him.
the cheap wig that he would wear to make you laugh.
the razor that you would hide to annoy him.
they only belonged to you now.
though you donât bring up his grandfather to drive him away, you only say it because it was hard for you to understand why he was here, looking for headphones that he could buy tens of pairs of.
he pauses, you wait for him to say something else, or lie about a friend who didnât exist who gave it to him, lie about his dad giving it to him.
but yoongi doesnât say anything.
he keeps looking.
you refused to keep anything that touched you in the last three years.
well, except for some things.
âyoongi,â you call out, pointing towards the unopened box in your closet and he turns his head that way, quickly walking over to it and flipping it upside down.
the photo album that carried your first anniversary.
the promise ring that he gave you on your second anniversary.
the matching couple t-shirt which he cringed at but wore whenever he could.
the.
the.
the.
so many theâs and so many firstâs and secondâs of things that you kept, though âkeptâ was the wrong word, you treasured these things, you loved them.
and all of them fell on the floor with noise that shook your ears and chest, not because of the volume but because it was like you were pouring your heart in front of him.
but you loved them in the past, you liked to think that you did and you were in the present now, watching yoongi eye the things you gathered without his knowledge.
and all of it was only yours now.
âwhen did you keep this here?â he asks, and you immediately know heâs asking about the simple diamond ring that everyone thought was your engagement ring.
but it was just a promise ring.
and you removed it when, âthat day you didnât come for my birthday,â you mumbled, picking up the things and putting them back where they belonged.
buried inside a box.
shoved into a closet.
but before, you pull out his headphones from the box and hang it over your head for him to take.
when he takes it, his fingers touch the smallest part of your palm and your eyes gather tears as if rivers were breaking a dam in them.
yoongi stands without saying a word for a long time but then he walks to the door, âyouâre not going to close your door?â
youâre not coming to see me off?
you get up unwillingly and walk to the door without sneaking another glance at him and drop the ring into his palm, âbye, yoongi.â
his hands tighten around the band of platinum.
both of you look at the dangly, worn-out wires of his headphones that hang from his other hand.
you had given them to him for your first anniversary.
not his dead grandpa or dad or friend.
it was you.
and both of you refused to acknowledge that fact.
and when yoongi finally leaves, he leaves behind a space in the air that waits for him to come back and take his place again, in your life, in your home, in your space.
but he doesnât turn back.
and you close the door, letting the space remain.
-
a few days went by again.
neither of you showed up at each otherâs doors anymore.
neither of you had anything left to collect.
neither of you had anything that belonged to the other.
and it was strange, the quiet, the loneliness that crept on your back and it always hit at the most unexpected of times.
when you poured your cereal in the morning, you realized you were holding the box that you had bought while grocery shopping with yoongi, it was your favorite time of the month, the one time you could really feel that he was your person.
but the box was empty by the end of your breakfast and you kept it back in the cabinet.
when you arranged your clothes, you saw your messy folding and fell back on the pile of clothes that still needed folding.
how yoongi did this every day, you had no clue.
but as you lay in pieces of cotton, linens, satins, sequins, and many more materials that hugged and pinched you, you couldnât help but think that surely, yoongi wouldnât leave you like this, there has to be something of his that you still own.
there has to be something.
so, you got up and with renewed desperate energy, you started searching.
you pulled upon every desk, every closet door, every nook and cranny, you searched with shaking hands and watery eyes.
âthere has to be something, there has to be,â you whispered to yourself, your voice choking as things fall over from the tall walls, they fall on your feet, and your toes, and a sharp pain hits you every single time, but you push through.
because.
there has to be something.
you canât end it like this.
you and yoongi cannot end like this.
anyone else can.
but not you, not him and you.
and the closets you look through stay ajar, the desks youâve emptied stay tipped over, and everything you own is on the floor.
but there is none of yoongi in any of it.
so, you sink.
you sink to your knees, sobbing and flipping over items as you reach them.
because goddamit, there has to be something.
when the bell first rings, you donât register it, you are way too intent on the clutter in front of you.
but then it rings.
and rings.
and rings, again and again.
relentless.
and you push yourself up, hoping itâs no one you know because you donât think you can explain the tears on your face.
but when you open the door, your mouth goes dry and you know you donât have to explain anything.
because across from you, is a red-eyed yoongi and heâs carrying a box.
âcan i come in?â is all he asks, his voice barely a whisper and youâre already opening the door and pulling him in.
but once heâs in your home, in your space again, the familiar soft and sharp scent of him, the sight of him, it was too much. you couldnât breathe. your eyes never leave him, every breath he took, every shift of his fingers, every fall of his chest, all of it was dancing in your eyes and for the love of god, you couldnât look away.
he sets the box down and stands there with his hands opening and closing around nothing, and you want to grab them, you want to spread them across your cheeks and feel his warmth, which was sometimes cold too but you didnât mind, you never minded with yoongi.
but instead, you curl your hands behind your back and stop yourself because it still wasnât right.
âi donât have anything of yours,â you start, voice already breaking, âanymore,â you finish with hands tightening so hard around each other that you could feel the bruises blooming on their surface.
âi know,â he takes a sharp inhale of breath and looks away from you and you want to beg him to look at you.
for a second, itâs just you reliving every second you werenât with him and itâs him looking at your apartment that was void of anything personal, anything that called it a home.
âi want all of it back,â he sniffs, looking at you finally, you want to take it back, you arenât sure how you survived three years of his eyes only on you and you squeeze your door handle, âall of what?â you whisper, and he sniffs again, âyour stuff, all of it, your stupid scarf, your straightener, everything, i want all of it back, in my place, in our place, where it belongs.â he says it so quietly, so earnestly and each word has you pulling your skin tighter.
âyour plushie is in this, i never threw it away but iâm taking it back, my t-shirts and headphones are in this, iâm leaving them here,â he bends over the box and starts picking things apart, and each thing he pulls out, fills you with relief.
but.
âbut that isnât right, yoongi,â you try to defend, âwe arenât together anymore,â you hate the words as they surface out of you and yoongi shakes his head.
âbut is this right?â he lifts his hands from the box, his jaw trembling again and you instinctively smooth your hand over it and yoongi pushes his face into your hands.
âis it right, both of us miserable?â he whispers and the world bottoms out from underneath you, suddenly gravity is nothing and youâre both floating towards each other.
âbut i hurt you,â you grip his headphones and this time, his tears fall the same as yours do, âi hurt you too.â he places a hand on your knees and that cold warmth, that bare touch leaves you open.
âbut iâm done, i donât want to hurt you anymore,â yoongi begs, he shakes his head as he says it as if he canât believe there was a time that he had hurt you but youâre the same, you canât believe that you hurt him once.
âbefore you came here, i was looking for something, anything that was yours so i could come back,â you sniffed loudly, your voice falling and lifting and yoongi listens with eyes that have always looked at you, âbut i didnât find anything, yoongi and it killed me.â your voice fully gives up as you bury your face into your hands and immediately, you feel his arms pulling you into his chest and his hands running down your hair.
âyou donât have to do that anymore, iâm back see,â he tips your face towards him and his smile is so soft, so real that it makes you smile too, âiâm not going anywhere.â he assures you with a kiss on the top of your head and your watery eyes dry out.
âme too, i donât want this anymore, i want us, i want two of everything, i want you and i want everything,â you utter back to him, the weight of the words floating between you too.
âand you have it, you have everything again, the ring is in there too but that is for whenever youâre ready.â he kisses you again and you snuggle into his embrace, feeling like youâve lost centuries of holding him, the thought of the ring swells your chest into a balloon that could snap, âthat will take time, but thank you,â you whisper, kissing where his shoulders met his neck.
âlike i said, whenever youâre ready but it will always belong to you.â yoongi whispers back and you smile in pure delight, nodding along to his words.
âwe were stupid for thinking that we could stay apart,â you laugh hesitantly into his chest, the idea of the two of you trying to be separate was ridiculous to you and yoongi laughs with you, which makes you melt into his body, because it was ridiculous, you were two parts of a whole, two houses in a home, two mugs in a kitchen, two keys in your purse, two toothbrushes in one bathroom and two of everything else that you could think of.
and that was how it shouldâve been, that was how it was always meant to be.
somewhere in the night, yoongi crawls up your sheets and your plushie is between the two of you and you make fun of him for acting as if he threw it away, he rolls his eyes and shushes you with a kiss.
âby the way, that straightener is yours, not mine,â you whisper and he is aghast, âi fucking knew it,â he yells and sits up, and immediately starts to complain âyou know how stupid iâve been looking with hair that looks just like hollyâs!â
and you remind him, playfully this time, that what was yours was his, and what was his was yours and he falls on the bed, grumbling under his breath and complaining until the sun comes up.
and it feels right, everything that belonged to you and him back in their place, back in their homes and yoongi, back in your life, your home, and your space.
just as it should be, just as it was meant to be.
#bts#bts imagines#bts fluff#bts angst#bts scenarios#namfinessed#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook#min yoongi fluff#yoongi fic recs#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi fic#bts yoongi#min yoongi#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi x reader#yoongi#bts fics#bts imagine#bts masterlist#bts series#bts au
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series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, flashback, a lot of remorse, fights, stubborn people, lack of communication, angst. a/n. its finally here. i haven't re read this chapter bc im almost falling asleep and i have to work tomorrow, but i'll give this one another look in the weekend. a friend of mine helped me with the traduction bc i'm really really burnt out rn. also, chapters names changed!! i hope you guys like this one! see you on the next oneđŤśđť
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âOppaâŚâ
Yoongi raised his head, his body leaning toward the piano acknowledging your presence in the room, and you could tell how he was physically struggling to move away from the instrument. Under his watchful gaze, you walked in his direction shuffling your feet, with a pitiful expression and every intention of openly complaining to one of the elders in your group of friends. But you relaxed your expression when you were a few steps away, recognizing his notebook on the piano lid and the trail of ink between his fingers at a safe distance from the keys.
His laughter confused you, and when you looked up, his lips were curved into a pretty smile. It was annoying. He was only two years older than you.
âWhat happened now?â
You remembered that you had come with a purpose, but your mind, as evasive and suggestible as ever, found more interest in what your eyes had caught.
âThe usual,â you barely commented, moving to sit on your legs in front of Yoongi. âWere you writing?â
Yoongi glanced over to find his notebook, his shoulders shaking in a sigh because he knew he wouldn't be able to escape this conversation now that you had discovered him.
âSomething like thatâŚâ
âCan I see it?â
âIt's nothing decent. I don't think it's prudent.â
You pressed your lips together at his response, letting your shoulders droop, disappointed. But it was what you had expected; after all, Yoongi was quite secretive about his notebook, and it was rare for him to let you get this close and know so much about him. Even though you had probably known each other since you learned to swim and multiply, and surely knew more skeletons in his closet than he would like to admit, Yoongi still had a reluctance to show you or anyonw his writings. You had to catch him at a very relaxed moment.
So you set aside your emotions, not allowing Yoongi to respond as you pouted, and crossed your arms while turning your head away.
âTaehyung and Jungkook got so competitive on the court that they kicked us all out,â you frowned, remembering how the two had rushed past you and stolen the ball in the blink of an eye, moving so quickly and with cheeky laughter that you barely understood what was happening until you saw them tussling with the ball in front of the scoring area.
They were already in extracurricular hours, and although everyone had subjects to study and delve into, they decided to take a moment to take advantage of the fact that the school court would be empty and play for a while. Jin and Namjoon had left the game after two quarters because they simply couldn't keep up, and since one was in your group with Jimin and the other with the two kings of competition that day, they decided to kick them out and leave them as referees along with Hobi, who was the initial one.
Surprisingly, Yoongi also didnât attend the game or his extracurricular class, choosing to get lost in the music room, taking advantage of the fact that it was empty that day because classes ended early.
âI donât understand why they have to ruin everyoneâs fun.â
Your little thirteen-year-old self, ignorant of many aspects of life, could only cross her arms and complain. Yoongi smiled, his two extra years of age giving him an understanding that perhaps you didnât have access to, because it was inconceivable to you that such a sacrilege could be considered funny. Basketball hours were sacred!
âThey're just messing around.â
âOppa, you should've seen how they were pushing each other,â you shook your head, refusing to believe that Yoongi really wanted to defend them. âIf you had been there, you could've stopped them.â
âAnd Jin?â
âHe was laughing with them.â
âAh,â Yoongi turned his head. âSo the second best option was me?â
You shrugged. âWell, I thought I could convince you to go to the court, butâŚâ
âButâŚ?â Yoongi rested a hand on the bench, leaning in to see you on the floor.
âMaybe itâs more fun to listen to you play the piano.â
You smiled brightly, intertwining your fingers while Yoongi wore a half-smile. Without responding, he straightened up again, adopting the posture he had when you saw him through the glass of the door, before you interrupted his concentration. His fingers danced in the air for a few seconds, touching the notes in his head, recalling sound after sound, until the pressure on them gave way to a melody unknown to you.
It had to be a new piece, a new composition in his notebook. Yoongi played, calm and serene, focused and absorbed, letting the sound flow as if it came directly from nature.
Seeing Yoongi like this was⌠a strange event. Later, as time passed, you would think it was unbearable to have to see him everywhere, to hear his name around every corner, but at that moment you were lost in him, absorbing the sounds of his mind that his fingers materialized on the piano, allowing yourself to be carried away by the tide of his emotions, the way he conveyed so many words with his touches. The fast and slow notes, the change of tempo, all so meticulously created and organized to send a message, to describe an emotion, to paint a scene.
Yoongi was scared. Perhaps nervous, even. When he finished his piece, you could only look at him in awe, his shoulders moving a little faster due to the intensity with which he finished, keeping his head down, as if processing what he had just done. His fear was palpable, his hopelessness and unease.
âOppa?â
âI donât knowâŚâ he paused, dropping the lid over the keys and taking a calmer posture. âI donât know if Iâll do the right thing when I graduate.â
âWhy?â your brow furrowed, and you leaned forward in concern. âYouâve always talked about it. And you have a lot of talent, oppa, I know youâll make it.â
Yoongi gave a nearly pained smile, as if he understood something you had no idea about.
âJin is going to medical school.â
âI know. But itâs what heâs passionate about,â you moved closer to your friend, trying to give him some of the support he always gave you. âIsnât music what youâre passionate about?â
The black-haired boy frowned. The answer was clear in his eyes, in the way he played the piano until he was breathless, but the gestures of his doubts were there too: when his fingers trembled with anxiety, his eyes gaining more shine as the seconds passed.
âOppa,â you called, trying to break the silence, trying to prevent his thoughts from eating him alive. âIf itâs what you love, youâll succeed. Iâm sure of that.â
You saw how the haze in his eyes disappeared, his features relaxing at least a little.
âI probably only have your support. Iâll have to rely on that.â
His small smile constricted your heart. In that moment, you didnât know what you could do to show him that it was enough, but you were also unaware of the reality that his words held. It was probably due to your age, the age difference with Yoongi, but you couldnât shake the feeling that he would never be completely satisfied with that. You wondered if it was about you, just for a second, recalling the way he smiled when some of the other boys gave him words of encouragement.
Maybe he was just more vulnerable with you than with the others, but a thirteen-year-old's reasoning didn't go that far.
With your foolish conclusion, you came home that day with a heavy heart.
-
Speaking of loose ends and unresolved issues, there were some specific people who deserved to take home the award and the crown for the most intrigue of the century. Because when you entered Choi Dohyun's office, with Seojun and Yuna on either side, even knowing that there were things still pending answers and others you could barely understand, the last thing you expected was for those you werenât even aware of to suddenly materialize, like a kick to the stomach.
But keeping your head high and your composure was something you had lacked the last time, and thus, against all odds, your face showed no emotion when you caught a glimpse of Min Yoongi storming out of the office looking angry, not even when his eyes moved towards your figure and his wires crossed for a millisecond, betraying his movements. The sound of his shoes against the floor didnât even distract you, keeping your gaze fixed on the man who appeared behind the door, with a huge smile on his face and eyes that screamed that signing this contract might take more from you than it would give.
Min Yoongi flanked you, a nearly imperceptible gasp of surprise escaping him as you passed by his side, not even giving him a glance of acknowledgment over your shoulder, as if he were less than a mere insignificant dust particle, and he collected himself as best he could to keep walking, ignoring the astonished looks your companions shot him.
You flashed the biggest smile, a feeling of anger settling deep in your stomach, and you shook hands with Choi Dohyun, who was cheerfully introducing himself with a voice an octave higher than usual.
You didnât miss the way he shot a glance down the hallway, where Min Yoongi should have been disappearing, and the bitter sensation in your throat intensified.
âWell, donât take it the wrong way, Iâm very happy because we finally have this,â Yuna beamed, raising the envelope with the contract as if it were her most cherished possession, just as they exited the large publishing house and the cool afternoon air greeted them, âbut did we just see the damn Min Yoongi leave that office?â
You simply sighed, feeling the tension radiate from your brotherâs body, who hadnât separated from you since the moment you were ushered away by Choi Dohyun's secretary.
âThat was⌠wow. I donât even have words.â
Seojun rolled his eyes, and you had to suppress the urge to pinch his side when Yuna turned to look at you with the envelope in her hands while you all waited to see your fatherâs blue car navigate the avenue.
âDo you think⌠this means weâll have more opportunities to meet the seven gods of Olympus than most people?â
Her smile made you feel nauseous, but out of her ignorance, you could do nothing but try to mimic it. Seojun, on the other hand, was making nothing but irritated faces.
âMaybe, if you work harder.â
Yuna let out another squeal of excitement, and you took a deep breath when she turned around to look at the cars again. Seojun wrapped his arm around yours, glaring at anyone who came too close, even by accident.
Your friend kept murmuring in disbelief, and all you could think was that she was probably holding in her hands the worst decision you had ever made.
-
Whatever the reason for your encounter with Min Yoongi, you had deduced that your bad luck came down to being out of the house. Putting a foot outside the holy altar of your home was proving lethal for your emotional stability, so you spent the rest of the day locked up, managing your social media and overseeing deliveries.
Dohyun had agreed that the publishing house would handle the entire printing, packaging, and shipping process of the books, as purchases were only growing with each passing day. His real offer was to leave you with nothing to do but continue planning your stories, because at that moment, you were a goldmine for him.
âUnbelievable! Jung Hoseok revealed the truth behind the distancing of the Korean entertainment dynasty.â
The voice coming from Yunaâs phone caught your attention. You lifted your head from the blank document on your computer screen, glancing sideways at your friend, who was comfortably sprawled on your bed with a furrowed brow and a conflicted expression, as intrigued as she was worried about what she had just heard.
âThese past few days have been tough for the kings of entertainment, as the last public sighting of them was over a week ago when Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jeon Jungkook left the businessmanâs building and enthusiastically greeted all their fans. As good followers, we know itâs too strange not to see them often, and the last time this happened was when Jung Hoseok had the accident that prevented him from continuing to play professional tennis.â
Yuna looked intensely focused, biting her nail and awaiting the climax of the video. You couldnât help but roll your eyes, but you couldnât deny you were a bit curious about what news they would share, knowing that the boys werenât ones to openly discuss their private matters.
âWith their reputations at stake and rumors flying back and forth [how exaggerated], Jung Hoseok had to come out to clarify the situation. His official statement, which was informally published on the famous app Whotalks, said: âWeâre all fine. Please be patient with us.â Whether his statement implies misunderstandings among friends that are in the process of being resolved or if we should wait for an official statement from their leader, weâre not sure. But itâs concerning theââ
âWhy would they make such a big deal about this if they arenât even sure what that post implies?â
Yuna paused the video, giving you a confused look, surely thinking you were immersed in whatever you were doing on the computer (nothing), too busy to pay attention to these âinsignificances,â as you used to say.
âY/N, you really have no idea of the magnitude of power these men hold over the entertainment industry. With a snap of their fingers, they could shake everything.â
âAnd why did they get so much power?â
âThey earned it. Through their hard work.â
You couldnât help the huff that escaped you. You didnât find what Yuna had said funny because it was true; they had worked incredibly hard to achieve what they had at that moment. At least you knew that their beginnings had been humble. But it annoyed you, inevitably, because you couldnât control the resentment shaking in your chest. Healing my ass, you hadnât forgotten anything from the last few years, no matter how much you wanted to convince yourself otherwise. So much effort to force them out of your life, only for them to find a way to disrupt it again in a week as if they had some right.
What a bunch of audaciousâ
âOh. A message came in.â
Your friend sat up on the bed, and you sent her a confused look.
âMessages come in every second, Yuna.â
âItâs from a verified account.â
Without lifting her gaze in your direction, you froze in your chair.
âOhââ
Oh no.
âNo fucking wayââ Yuna stood up in the bed, exclaiming loudly: âKim Taehyung is in your DM's!â
âTell him to go to hell.â
â¿¿Huh??â
The words slipped out before you could think twice. From the tense way the words left your mouth, you could tell Yuna was torn between asking more or simply contradicting you. Her eyes moved from the screen to your face, her fingers moving almost imperceptibly over the device.
âYou know, every time you make it harder to understand whatâs going on with these people.â
Finally, she locked her phone and dropped it on one of your pillows. You had never been a fan; your friend understood that. She had never questioned you about it⌠except for that random afternoon in this same room when she asked too many questions, but after the encounter with Yoongi that afternoon, you wondered what moment or what would need to happen for her to stop believing that it was just a matter of taste differences and for you to have to tell her the truth.
Before everything that happened a week ago, you had never considered it necessary to talk about it because so much time had passed, and you believed you were at a point where things related to them really didnât affect you anymore, nor would you ever have to interact with them again to warrant giving your friend a statement. But of course, things were different now, and emotions would continue to clash with one another, and you hated to think that their attitudes meant they were trying to return to your life, or at least get involved to some extent, which would imply, strongly, that you would have to tell Yuna what had happened.
âHave you ever thought that you might have run into him if you had gone to the convention?â
âYeah...â you sighed in defeat. It was impossible not to consider that alternative, how things might have turned out. If you would still have this overwhelming resentment in your chest or if they would have carved their way back into your heart once more.
The foolish you at eighteen would be thrilled right now.
âAnd even with that doubt... donât you have even a little curiosity about what he says?â
You preferred not to, to be honest. You would rather just rip out every memory from your head with tweezers to be able to return to a semi-normal life, where your biggest worry should be saving enough for a trip and not when those damn lunatics were going to leave you alone.
But you found yourself stretching out your arm to take the phone when Yuna handed it to you, a grimace of insecurity settling on your face.
âIâm not going to ask,â Yuna spoke, and you sent her a glance just as she turned on the bed and took her own phone to continue watching her celebrity gossip. âIâm not going to pressure you.â
You didnât respond. You lowered your gaze to the device in your hands, feeling a mix of relief and bitterness. Well, at least she had given you the opportunity to worry about that later.
The screen lit up, and there it was. A new message from Kim Taehyung.
thv Hi. Itâs Jimin.
Huh?
You ?
The read notification arrived almost instantly after you replied. With your brow furrowed, you watched the bubble appear from his side of the chat.
thv Iâm sorry for writing from Taeâs account, but you blocked me
Ah. Ah. Right.
After receiving the notification that Jungkook had followed you a few days ago, and especially because he had shown up at your work out of nowhere short after that, you had blocked everyone else with an Instagram account, just to be safe.
A small detail.
You Oh, yeah
That Jimin was trying to contact you, considering the context of the whole situation, wasnât too outrageous. When you studied together, apart from being the first to start teasing others and fostering friendly banter, he was also the first to try to fix things because he couldnât stand hostile and tense environments. Itâs not that you thought he had a chance to fix anything now, but maybe you were a little interested in what he had to say. After several days, it was inevitable not to feel curious, right?
After the bubble appeared and disappeared several times, the message finally arrived.
thv Do you think we could talk in person?
You No.
thv I promise it'll just be me
You No.
thv It can be anywhere you choose
You I said no If you have something to say, write it If you donât have anything interesting to say, then Iâm going to block this account too
thv No Wait Okay.
The sound of Yunaâs phone had faded into the background of your mind. You kept your eyes on the typing bubble, fearing that maybe Jimin would change his mind and decide not to respond to the questions swirling in your head. Now that he was being so persistent, you were more eager to know. I mean, it was the least you deserved, right? Some kind of answer, some kind of reason, a why. Something to explain everything, because the root of that growing resentment in your chest was due to their lack of communication, to their ease in discarding you like a worthless piece of paper, not even caring if the air swept you away or the rain destroyed you.
They owed you something, and you had the right to an answer. You could have moved on, yes; you thought you had, yes; living with resentment in your heart affected a personâs life, yes... but God would be the only living being on earth and in the universe who wouldnât feel even a pinch of pain for everything that had happened. For the inexplicable disappearance, for the disconnection, for the destruction of an incredible blind trust that was woven with that friendship you believed to be unconditional but ended up being one-sided. Who could really blame you for being cautious of them?
If when you cultivated that friendship, that friendly love, the fruits they returned to you were rotten, how could you simply trust? Who could?
thv Iâm sorry for what happened. I know this was very abrupt, and it must have been strange for you
Strange, for lack of a better word. Strange was a euphemism.
thv I apologize on behalf of everyone.
You Iâm not interested
thv If we could meet in person, I could explain better
You Iâm not interested. That wouldnât change anything.
thv I know this goes beyond what happened this week, but I donât want you to have a bad impression
You Youâre a damn audacious one, Jimin Do you think itâs only the latest thing that would make me see you all negatively? Is that the only thing youâve done? Or well, what you havenât done either
thv Okay, I expressed myself very poorly I know we were already on bad terms before; I meant that I didnât want it to get worse
You Well, honestly, I didnât think it could get worse until now.
thv Iâm making it worse
You Wow, apparently you do have awareness and common sense For many years, I thought you lacked that
You blocked the phone, letting it drop onto the table, your heart racing because of the audacity that man had to refer to what had happened as if it were just a silly childhood memory, as if it had simply been a stupid basketball game where you werenât allowed to play. That only reinforced your thinking, the only plausible reason you had given life to over the past few years, the only explanation you had for their disappearance: that they never cared about you as much as you did about them; that you were never truly fundamental in their lives. Because, come on, they had built a friendship and shared memories before you appeared on the scene; they knew each other beforehand with a depth you could never reach, long before your name reached their ears. They had a connection; you were never ignorant of that; there was something in them that kept them united, something that made them understand each other almost on a spiritual level, and naively, you believed they had made you a part of it; that you had managed to be part of that connection.
But no, it was never like that. It was always one-sided. Whether you were a game, a case of charity, or someone they simply couldnât say no to, you had no idea, but none of those options felt too foreign to reality. Especially considering the way Jimin referred to the past as if it had been a child's game and nothing more. There was never more for them. You should've known that.
thv Iâm really sorry, y/n I truly wish I could talk to you in person I promise I can explain many things
His messages shone on the lock screen, and more than feeling curious again, you felt rage. So now they could talk. Now they could fucking communicate. Where was that willingness ten years ago? Five years ago, even? You never thought you would see any of them so willing to offer you what you had longed for, maybe at least to finally bring closure to the whole situation.
But you didnât want to give them the right to become the victims in this situation. They had time to do something, yes, now you knew, and they simply chose not to; it was high time you really let it go. Let them go. What would an explanation fix now? When, if there was still something of the friendship you built, it should've crumbled to dust. Their willingness now meant nothing. If you ever saw any of them again, you would rather rip their hair out in a fit of rage.
You Fuck you Fuck all of you
And you blocked Taehyungâs account.
Anticipating any possibility, you also blocked Jungkook and hoped that would be the end of it.
Finally, you would try to seek true healing, because it was about damn time.
-
You y/n, I'm so sorry y/n? y/n????????????????
Oh no. Taehyung's going to kill me.
âWhat the hell are you doing?â
Speaking of the king of Rome.
Park Jimin flinched, tightening his fingers around the phone he was holding, which clearly wasnât his, literally caught red-handed. He swallowed hard when his friendâs footsteps drew closer, circling around to face what he feared most.
âJimin...â Taehyung began, his confused expression turning into caution, quickly shifting his gaze between the phone and the wide-eyed blonde. âTell me you didnât do it.â
Jimin shrank even more, pursing his lips, realizing there was no escape. In his defense, he had fervently believed for a moment that he would succeed. Taehyung hadnât agreed from the start, especially given how angry Yoongi had been that afternoon when he arrived at the penthouse and how he had locked himself in Namjoonâs office, and the tone of their voices hadnât diminished for even a second, especially not when Jin arrived an hour later.
Taehyung and Jimin werenât sure what had happened, but considering the recent events, they could make an educated guess.
It all led back to you.
They were surely paying for what they did.
âI told you it was a terrible idea!â Taehyung strode closer and snatched the phone from Jiminâs tightly clenched hands. Jimin let out a defeated sigh, sinking back against the couch as Taehyung began to scroll through the messages, growls escaping his throat.
âI didnât think sheâd be so...â
Jimin hesitated, and when he turned to look at his friend, his furrowed brow silently asked, âare you serious?â
Another defeated sigh escaped him.
âYouâre not fixing anything. If Namjoon finds out about this...â
Taehyung didnât finish his sentence, but Jimin understood. But could any of them really blame him? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone! No one was a saint in that place when it came to you. At least he had the decency to try to explain things when the others just charged in as if nothing had ever happened (for now, Taehyung and Jungkook, simply because he still had no idea what had happened with Yoongi).
The problem, of course, was that Jimin was better at comforting someone in person than through messages.
âThere's no going back from this.â Taehyung murmured, still focused on the screen. The shine in his eyes gave Jimin an idea of what was going through his mind, and he remained silent until Taehyung looked up. âWe really messed up.â
âDid you need this reality check?â
âDid you?â Taehyung frowned. âI donât know why you expected a different response.â
âWell, what did you expect to happen doing what you did?â
Jimin watched his friend click his tongue.
âWhat did you expect me to do? I didnât think it would snowball like this.â Taehyung shook his head, and Jimin barely recalled with a shudder how the atmosphere had felt in the penthouse after Tae had posted that story about your books on his Instagram. âI just wanted...â
Once again, Taehyung chose to remain silent, but in his absence of words, Jimin understood.
To make up for it.
âObviously, Iâm not going to say anything,â Taehyung added, shooting a sideways glance at his blonde friend. âAfter whatever happened with Yoongi, I donât even want to imagine how Namjoon would react if he finds out about this.â
âIf he finds out what?â
Jimin and Taehyung froze on the couch, watching through the reflection of the TV as the person appeared behind them before they could recognize the friendly yet concerned tone.
Jung Hoseok circled the couch, clearly troubled by what he had just heard. It was evident he had just returned from practice because his hair was wet and he looked somewhat flustered, his cheeks flushed despite the chilly weather that night. He dropped his training bag on one of the armchairs, and Jimin averted his gaze when he caught his friend's eyes. It wasn't that they usually kept secrets and tiptoed around the others, but ever since Jungkook had pulled that stunt of searching for you at work when Namjoon had expressly forbidden it, the waters between them had been a bit tense, and any topic involving you could explode any healthy and cooperative conversation in seconds.
Hoseok crossed his arms, allowing his cheerful expression at finally arriving at the penthouse to fade completely, hardening his features as he shot a stern look at the two young men.
Taehyung also averted his gaze. The moment he heard Hoseok's voice, he tucked the phone between his legs and probably looked tenser than he should have. He, just like Jimin, didnât dare meet Hoseokâs eyes at that moment. Because Hobi had stopped at the door, and with whom they had in front of them, they couldn't hesitate. They both knew it, they both understood.
And Hoseok knew very well. He was aware of all the tricks the two shared and could sense from their silence that they were up to something. Besides, of course, their conversation had been overly revealing. They had to be thankful it was him who arrived in the midst of their confessions, and of course, he would demand to have a conversation of such gravity with such freedom.
But no, in that house, secrets were not kept.
âIf he finds out what?â Hoseok emphasized the words, urging the stubborn young men to keep their mouths shut.
Hoseok then exhaled through his nose in a sigh.
âIs it about y/n?â
Jimin and Taehyung lifted their gazes, a bit tempted but diverting their eyes as if pretending to be uninterested. While the atmosphere had been very tense lately, Hoseok and Jin had kept themselves somewhat distanced from all that unease, mainly because their demanding jobs kept them away from the penthouse most of the time. Namjoon, for his part, couldnât escape the topic as easily since he had an office at home, initially to monitor them in a healthy way, and now because he felt the need to keep an eye on each of them to prevent them from doing something stupid.
Yoongi... well, maybe he had tried to stay on the sidelines, but he had clearly failed miserably if he had ended up arguing with Namjoon and Jin.
âWhat did you guys do now?â
Hoseok's severe tone was chilling. Jimin remembered the times he had decided to participate in his dance classes, the few that he taught personally each month, and how he had felt Hoseokâs sharp gaze and his blunt comments about his steps in front of all the students. It was as if he became another person. Although it was terrifying, the two young men admitted it was refreshing to see him like that in the academy, because he had lost a bit of his spark since his accident. Before, he only looked that serene and committed when he was at his tennis practice.
At that moment, however, Jimin and Taehyung appeared more reluctant despite his severe attitude, because they didnât know if he would spill the beans to Namjoon afterward.
âAnd what happened with Yoongi?â
The slight softness in his tone made Jimin lift his head. Still with his arms crossed over his chest, Hoseok sat across from them at the table in the center of the room.
Jimin sighed, and Taehyung shot him an alarmed look. Are we really going to give in this quickly?!
âWe donât know what happened with Yoongi. He just arrived in the afternoon, locked himself in the office with Namjoon, and they wouldnât stop arguing. Then Jin came in, but that didnât make them stop.â
Hoseok looked up, scanning the hallway. Now the house was silent, perhaps more grave and tense than usual. Hoseok didnât know how it had come to this and hadnât sensed that atmosphere immediately.
âIs Jin here?â
âI think heâs in his room,â Taehyung replied, shifting on the couch. âHe stormed out of the office a while ago.â
Hoseok grimaced at the mere thought, causing a shiver.
âThen it is about y/n.â
Jimin and Taehyung once again averted their gazes.
âOh, come on.â Hoseok uncrossed his arms, more frustrated than angry at that moment for not being able to fully understand what was causing so many arguments among his friends. âIâm not going to go talk to Namjoon later, regardless of what you tell me. I just want to understand.â
The two young men exchanged a glance, Hoseok believed, communicating mentally. It was always strange but interesting how those two could understand each other at such a level that often they didnât even need a look. They could support each other's ideas without overthinking it, just like they were doing at that moment in front of him, and Hoseok couldnât help but think that this topic could cause them more harm than they realized. That these two were even hesitant to share something with him now, fearing to do so, considering whom they could trust or not, spoke volumes about how this issue was being handled and it was not healthy at all.
Hoseok didnât know that Namjoon had been arguing. The only time he had talked about that topic with the others was when Jungkookâs incident happened, because by crossing such a clear and blatant line, Namjoon saw the need to have a group meeting to set some ground rules. But whatever had continued to happen that he was unaware of was creating cracks in the trust of all the members, and that didnât sit well with him at all.
âI wrote to her on Taehyungâs Instagram,â Jimin began, looking down with his hands intertwined on his legs. âAnd I might have made things a lot worse...â
âMight have?â Taehyung turned to look at the blonde, who barely raised his head to meet his gaze before Hoseok interrupted.
âAnd what did you say to her?â
Jimin pressed his lips together. âI asked if we could meet in person, and when she said no, I just tried to apologize for everything.â
âDonât forget that you proceeded to carry out a rather undisguised gaslighting.â Taehyung added.
âI didnât manipulate her!â
âYou spoke to her as if everything that happened didnât matter at all!â
âThatâs not how it was! I just expressed myself very poorly,â Jimin exclaimed, facing Taehyungâs accusations, who remained with his arms crossed and chin raised, clearly in disagreement with him. âYou, more than anyone, know that I donât communicate well through text.â
âBecause you overthink everything. You didnât even need to text her in the first place. I told you it was a terrible idea. Now she hates us even more!â
âDid she say that?â Hoseok intervened.
Taehyung gave him a disbelieving look.
âAnd I quote: fuck all of you.â
Hoseok took a deep breath, trying to process the situation. Taehyung looked angry, and Jimin appeared offended that Taehyung was so upset about what he had done, in addition to misrepresenting his words, if Hoseok understood correctly. But the brown-haired guy had a point: it had indeed been a terrible idea, and Namjoon would lose all his hair if he found out. He understood Jiminâs motivation for trying to reach out, but Hoseok felt Jimin had lost some tact in the process by approaching you just to find a quick solution. Clearly, the atmosphere in the penthouse was affecting everyone, and not in a good way. He couldnât judge or blame Jimin for trying to lighten the situation for both parties, even if he could have approached it differently.
So Hoseok sighed, understanding the magnitude of the problem they had, and turned to the two young men who were now looking at him attentively, after recently avoiding his gaze as if their lives depended on it.
âHow did you think you were going to meet her with the level of fame you have?â
Hoseok knew Jimin had acted on impulse, and perhaps addressing the underlying reasoning would make him think better next time, if there was one.
Jimin opened his lips slightly, confused.
âI... I donât know, but I would've found a way.â
Taehyung scoffed. That would have been impossible because, surely, only after Jungkook, Jimin was one of the most recognizable faces in the industry and, therefore, couldnât walk freely down the streets without having a horde of fans behind him within seconds. If, for some divine reason, you had agreed to meet with Jimin, then he would have exposed you too much to the public eye and you would have had more problems before getting any answers.
âThereâs no way, Jimin.â Hoseok spoke, as the blonde shot a fierce look at his brown-haired companion. âWeâre no longer in a small town.â
The two young men turned to the elder, putting their silly squabbles aside. A feeling of nostalgia and longing filled the air, embracing them and bringing to the surface poorly buried memories in the gardens of their minds; the gusts of Hoseokâs words uncovered them easily.
âWe canât afford that luxury now. We lost the opportunity a long time ago.â Hoseok reminded them, with a hint of discord in his voice.
Taehyung hated remembering those times. Having had his hands tied, sealing his mouth voluntarily, believing he had no other option... it completely sickened him. For a long time, regret had physically drained him.
âI wonât talk to Namjoon, donât worry.â Hoseok assured them, and although the two young men should've breathed with relief, the truth was that they already felt too shaken. âBut be more careful about where you talk about these things.â
âWhat things?â
âFuck!â
Taehyung jumped off the couch when the voice came from his right, being the closest to the source. The three friends turned to see Yoongi, walking down the hallway from his room to the main living area of the penthouse.
âAre you guys sharing secrets?â
Instead of being scared, Jimin and Taehyung fell back onto the couch, letting out an exhausted breath. Yoongi shot a confused look at Hoseok, who returned it with a more severe expression.
âCome here, Yoongi. We need to talk.â
-
i hope you guys enjoyed! and thanks to my friend for helping my unresponsive overworked ass.
[Friend: I don't know if the tags worked. I'm sorry!]
tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi
#series: i can fix them#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#bts fanfic#bts angst#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#bts taehyung#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts#bts fluff#bts jimin#bts yoongi#bts jungkook#bts x fem!reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#taehyung x reader#taehyung angst#taehyung fanfic#jimin x reader#jimin angst#jin x reader#hoseok x reader#hobi x reader#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#namjoon x reader#namjoon angst
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fail-safe
pairing:Â yoongi x reader
wordcount: 8k
glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.
alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.
[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]
[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]
notes: finally got to writing a new series!!! i'm beyond excited for this + this whole new concept and flow i haven't touched on before <3 i hope u love fail-safe as much as i do :-)
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist
Yoongi buys atleast one scratch ticket a week.
The accessibility of buying one is top-notch considering that all he has to do is cross the street, shoot one look to the cashier, and he can either already go hunch in the corner of the road or in the comfort of his room. The moment his coin takes its first dig and he realizes that heâs won yet again, heâs satisfied enough not to buy another ticket.
He doesnât want to risk losing the win heâs just gained, the odds of him throwing out money besting his chances in adding to his earnings. He thinks everyoneâs a little greedy one way or another, but itâs the righteous part of him that thinks heâs different.
You do think that he is for all the right reasons, your vision only tunneling for him alone. Heâs this fixed older figure in your life and you canât figure out how to shrug him off â heâs this generous leech that sucks all of the rationality from your mind but returns it to you twofold, whether in the form of him saying something unintentionally endearing that it makes your chest hurt, or through him having to lightly smack the back of your head.
Yoongiâs your older brotherâs best friend and thereâs a novelty tag that comes with him, one that canât be topped by any material possession to your name. Heâs there for you, not in the exact way you want him to be, but nonetheless there. Heâs special and unattainable at the same time, the finiteness of his love barely extending to you.
Heâs there when you want him to burn the latest songs onto a CD youâve spent all your allowance in, and heâs there when you get annoyed that he sneaked some of his own recommendations in there. Youâre there when you later admit that his suggestions arenât half-bad, and you also happen to be there when he grins at the praise.
Heâs there when Namjoon wonât cough up the last slice of his cutlet, not because heâll actually give you his, but because heâll help your brother guard his plate. Youâd only have to mope for a solid of three seconds before the two of them give up both of their last slices, and youâre there when Yoongi insists for you to try the sauce in the spirit of going out of your routine.
You donât need Yoongi every single time but in the event that you do, he hangs back. He contemplates and hesitates and doesnât give in to every single whim that you have, but heâll be there. He lingers like the last holiday ornament you donât want to remove until itâs February, his presence being oddly similar to your favorite festivities.
Yoongiâs the equivalent of a holiday you look forward to with each passing month and day; he comes around to and for you in instances, but never even in your most sincere wishes.
âI buy one scratch ticket a week â three if Iâm really feeling lucky. When my palms itch, thatâs when I know that I really need to buy them.â
Heâs calm and collected even when youâre scrunching your nose up at him in combined worry and disbelief, humming mindlessly as you collect your thoughts. He randomly told you about his lottery routine and youâre still trying to wrap your head around how he blows his money off just easily. Yoongi has the mind to put scrap cardboard under you because sitting on the hot concrete with your uniform on canât possible be a good idea, but you try to play off your fluster into stubbornness.
Heâs just playing with his two ever-present coins (lucky charms as he calls them)â one thatâs shiny and minted in the present year, the other being the oldest coin heâs ever had that happens to be older than he is â while you mutter about.
âI donât know, Yoongs. That might be a gambling problem,â you squint, your side comment being heard clearly as day. âMight be the symptoms for hand, foot, and mouth disease too.â
âWhatâ I do not have a gambling problem! My skinâs perfectly fine too, thanks,â he defends, the light shove he gives you doing nothing to tone down your teasing.
âThatâs what people with gambling problems say.â
âGive me that-âŚâ he mutters, trying to wrestle you for the sundae he bought you using the money he won from his scratch ticket just awhile ago. You donât give in easily, even if your laughs that come straight from your chest suggest otherwise. âYou donât get it. Itâs just this nice, fun little thing I can look forward to every week. I always buy the cheapest version anyway so when I lose, itâs not a big deal.â
You relent (like you always do when it comes to Yoongi) in understanding, waving him off after regaining your breath. âNah. I get it. We all have to do things so we wouldnât lose our shit,â you trail, racking your head to find the right words.âYours is buying scratch tickets, and mine is-âŚâ
âYours is what?â Yoongi raises an eyebrow, lips quirked in eagerness to know where youâre going with this. He canât pinpoint a single thing he can attach to you and neither can you, your actual interests merely reflecting those of the people whom you love.
You love cross-stitching because your mom loves doing it, the tolerance you have for accidentally being pricked by the needle growing over time.
You enjoy playing badminton because Namjoonâs obsessed with the sport, no matter how ratty your rackets and shuttlecocks have become, and no matter how much he pushes you to ring the doorbell to your neighborâs when heâs sent it flying to their backyard.
Youâre probably an imposter yet you donât feel like it. You donât feel bad that your life most probably and will only revolve around your mom and Namjoon (maybe even Yoongi); you donât feel dissatisfied that your lifeâs mundane.Â
You go where your love goes.
âMine is watching you buy scratch tickets,â you shrug easily as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world, making him laugh heartily. Youâve probably done something right because he hauls you up to your feet immediately.
âGet up. Iâm buying you your first ticket,â he nudges you, grabbing you by the arm in excitement.
âBut Iâm not even legal!â you half-heartedly argue, internally excited that youâre finally getting to try your hand at the lottery because youâve spent a few hundred minutes of your life tuned to the channel to pass the time, awaiting the results for something you havenât even betted for.
âRight. Like I havenât seen you trying to squeeze out a drop of beer from our empty cans whenever Namjoon and I drink.â
âRude,â you roll your eyes playfully, gathering your things from the ground.
âItâs okay. Iâll give you your first sip of beer too if you want,â Yoongi offers sincerely; easily as if youâve just asked him about the weather.
Heâs here to buy you your first scratch ticket, and heâs still here to offer giving you your first sip of liquor in the future.
Your family friend for a cashier vehemently ignores the fact that youâre still underage to participate in the lottery, and instead only chuckles to herself in amusement. Sheâs an aunt that knows when to step in and not to, and she knows you wonât be harmed by a mere bet. In fact, she knows you wonât be harmed by anything with Yoongi in tow.
âI already used up all my change,â your frown in realization, holding the ticket in your hands in despair despite having scoured your wallet repeatedly.
âRub it against the pavement. Thatâs what I do,â Yoongi lies fluidly, a scoff being caught in his throat when you actually attempt to do it. âI was only kidding, Y/N. Jeez,â he groans, pulling out his wallet. âUgh. Here. You can have one of my lucky coins.â
Itâs the old one, tarnished beyond relief that you can barely recognize what itâs actual value is supposed to be.
âEw. Iâm giving it back. It looks prehistoric,â you narrow your eyes, knowing that you donât even have to put your fingers nears your nose to know that itâs already left a faint stench on them.
Yoongi rolls his eyes, a habit he canât tell heâs formed himself or got from you. âIf you use your brain for one second, youâd realize that itâs actually worth more because itâs older. Collectors would go crazy for that in the future.â
âThat sounds like a hoarding problem.â
Heâs just had about enough of your whining so he attempts to trade in the old coin for his lucky new one, but you stop him at the last minute with a meek smile.
âKidding. Thank you. Iâll keep it safe, Yoongi. I promise,â you rush out before he changes his mind, scratching your ticket in silence.
He waits for you because youâre scratching so politely and neatly, a stark opposite to his experienced skill of scratching the paint off in ten strokes or less.
Your face is too close to the ticket that Yoongi canât tell whatâs happening, making him part your hair like a curtain to peek.
âDid you win?â
âNope.â
âLet me throw that out for you.â
âNo!â you squeak, keeping the ticket close to your chest. Itâs a bummer that your first time is a loss, but it didnât mean that you wanted to forget the sentiment behind it. âI-I mean no, Iâll keep it. Itâs memorable now that I think about it.â
âAlright,â he shrugs carelessly, a smile breaking out in retaliation. âHoarder.â
âGambler,â you spit, tucking the ticket into your pencil case. âNext week again?â
Yoongi agrees, wrapping his head around the fact that he doesnât have to be alone in his little routine every Friday.
âSure.â
( ⥠)
You donât mind getting hand-me-downs.
As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that itâs been loved enough to be passed on to you.
You adore your motherâs dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you donât mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoonâs shirts that heâs outgrown, even through the numerous phases heâs had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.
You donât mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that youâre probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase arenât covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. Itâs home to your mother and Namjoon â if itâs good enough for them, then itâs already the best for you.
Even on top of everything, you donât mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and youâd barely bat an eye.Â
You donât mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they werenât offered, youâd seek them yourself.Â
So when Yoongi mentioned that heâs decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.
âGo crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.â
âI feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,â you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. Itâs a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything heâs ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.
Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. âItâs either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebodyâs uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.â
You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebodyâs uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.
The thick gray hoodie youâve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought youâd gotten hurt.
âNo way, this too? But this is your favorite,â you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that thereâs a catch to it belonging in the pile.
âEh. I know it looked good on me but I donât think itâs my favorite. Besides, Iâve bulked up! Wanna feel?â Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brotherâs at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.
âYou and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.â
Thereâs random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what youâre only allowed to grab from his stuff.
Youâre not greedy â you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But thereâs that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubikâs cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.
There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.
âYoongi.âÂ
âWhat now?â he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.
âAre you serious? Your helmet?â you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. âDoes this mean youâre passing your motorcycle to me?!â
âAre you crazy? Fuck no,â Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesnât miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; heâs not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. âObviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.â
You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasnât full of his shit. âCome on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.â
âTeaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?â Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.
âBut you still havenât taught me,â you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course â why would he do that for you?
You have an inkling that youâre being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after⌠by him.
Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didnât mean to be that blunt. âI donât think youâre even old enough to have your driving permit,â he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.
You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. âBut Iâm old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that canât fit in your carrier.â
He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. âYouâre so stubborn.â
âYouâre a hypocrite,â you retort, knowing for a fact heâs known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot.Â
Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. Youâre still not looking at him and youâre pouting and you donât even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.
âI will teach you next week.â
âOh my-âŚâ
He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. âProvided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly donât have a job yet-âŚâ
âOuch.â
âAnd I donât have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what youâll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,â Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. Theyâre too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.
âYou go on rides wearing your pajamas.â
âJust say âthank you, Yoongiâ.âÂ
âYou havenât done anything yet,â you trail off, head tilting in confusion.Â
Youâve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.
âThank you, Yoongi,â he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He wonât stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you wonât go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.
âThank you, Yoongi,â you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.
He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.
âYou can have the helmet.â
( ⥠)
Yoongi knows the ins and outs of your home.
Heâs been at your house too much to the point that your mom already gave him a spare key and nobody batted an eye about it. He has his own designated slippers at the entryway too, something you would only use in a hurry if you needed to sign off on a package.
Yoongi, for some reason unfathomable (not really; you can tell exactly why because your mom is an extremely warm and inviting person), also has the power of dibs on the food in your fridge. Heâd put strips of masking tape with his name on food thatâs neither brought in nor made for him in the first place.Â
It should be off-putting â the way that for too many yet too little reason, Yoongi has become a prominent figure in your life even if you didnât ask him to. You should be peeved that you have to set up four plates more often that you set up only three; you should be annoyed at some point that when you wake up at random times through the night, youâre not totally alone to begin with.
You shouldbe angry at Yoongi to a degree because heâs in your life and you donât get to have a say on how he stays in it. The only problem is that youâre not, and probably never will.
âCanât sleep?â you mutter as you look up from your strikingly clear paper, seeing Yoongi strut across the floor with a casualness that only real occupants of the house should supposedly possess. He has his brows furrowed at you as if he didnât expect to see you in your living room, scratching his head in wonder.
âWhy are you up?â
âStressed,â you sigh, giving up altogether in attempting to make yourself look busy. Yoongi drives by your fridge to get himself a can of beer, finally seating himself beside you on the floor.Â
âStressed about what? Iâm sure itâs not about studying,â he snorts, unsurprised at your paper and the clear lack of motivation behind it. You only roll your eyes at him and he has half a mind to not remind you to not do it so much, the frown in your face reminding him that you really were frustrated.
It is you to throw the occasional tantrum, but he remembers that it was only when you were young; when Namjoon would whisper gibberish to his ear and purposely not whisper to yours just so he could tease you, or when nobody would believe that you taught yourself how to ride a bike with no training wheels. You didnât know how to do the latter at all, but what had made you throw a tantrum was that nobody believed you.
You notice Yoongiâs digs, of course. You notice each one of his more than unsubtle nods to your intelligence and whatnot, the shots at your intellect not flying over your head like he expected them to. You admit that youâve never been that scholastic; you werenât born a genius and you donât try exactly hard either.
Yoongiâs only joking but you canât help but to think that heâs pertaining to something deeper, his constant digs at your lack of a passion making you sluggish.
âWe have to write this essay,â you answer simply, your tone straightforward and unwilling for banter but Yoongi bites anyway.
âBut essays are the easiest,â he trails, looking at you the whole time as he takes a sip of his beer.
You exhale heavily because no matter what, he just canât seem to get it. Yoongi knows where youâre coming from but he doesnât know where youâre headed. As a matter of fact, you donât know where youâre headed either. âWe have to write an essay about where we see ourselves ten years from now.â
âBut thatâs still easy.â
âIf itâs so easy, then go write it for me,â you snicker, leaning back with a huff. He constantly undermines you and although you own up to your striking mundaneness from time to time, it didnât mean that you liked being looked down on. Yoongiâs too used to you being yourself, he gets taken aback when you grow sick of your own.
He gathers all his willpower, far from being sleepy unlike you who wouldâve been lulled to sleep if only you werenât dead-set on arguing with him. âYou know what? I actually will,â he claps, handing you his beer. âGo hold this for me.â
Yoongi grips your pen for dear life like you hold his beer, his hand warm as he works from sheer determination alone (heâs not competing with anyone except for whatever expectation you have for him and your paper), while yours was cold just holding his drink.
Youâve been so quiet that he actually gets curious, turning his head to check to see if youâve dozed off when actually, itâs just you eyeing the can.
âNo oneâs watching,â Yoongi breaks you out of your thoughts, carelessly shrugging. He cares and heâs far too concerned for you, but he figures that nothing would hurt you so long as he can grasp you. âItâs okay. You can have your first sip.â
You blink owlishly at him and when he jokes about taking it back, you take your first swig of beer in a panic. Yoongi only shakes his head in amusement, pausing his writing just to see the look on your face.
âOne more?â he asks right after he sees you wince, the unbearable sweetness yet bitter, stinging aftertaste of the beer making you shudder.Â
You have the urge to wash off the taste with ice cold water (youâll even drink from the tap because youâre so desperate), but you resist it just so you wouldnât look like a weakling in front of him. You wave him off with a bitterness, upset that beer doesnât taste like what youâve always imagined it to be. âJust write my essay for me,â you mull over the taste in your tongue, in deep thought while you stare at Yoongiâs back ahead of you. âDo all beers taste that way?â
âEh. Most of them do. You develop a taste for it later on,â he answers, taking the can back from you before drinking it himself. He looks too dedicated in writing your essay, only goading the curiosity in you to peek over his shoulder.
He knows you, both in heart and memory, because he shields your own paper from you when he sees your shadow hovering above him.
âYoongi?â
âHm.â
âI told you why Iâm up. Why are you up?â
Heâs silent entirely, the only indication that he heard your question being his hand pausing abruptly. Yoongi doesnât answer, and you donât ask again. âDonât worry about it.â
You take his answer to heart, dozing off on the couch before you know it. You donât remember a blanket being placed on you, nor can you remember preparing your backpack for school the next day.
Your paperâs neatly tucked into your portfolio bearing handwriting thatâs clearly not yours, but with a sentiment thatâs similar nonetheless. You read through everything quickly before even stepping towards your teacher, the tips of your fingers just as cold as Yoongiâs beer last night.
Youâve committed the paper into your memory, even until the last part with an excerpt you canât forget despite having passed the paper already. You donât know what to feel because itâs Yoongi whoâs speaking for you, detailing that ten years from now, you will still be your motherâs daughter and your brotherâs sister.
He wrote your essay either for you or in behalf of you, and you canât tell which one is better.
Yoongi, who knows the ins and outs of your home and the peaks and troughs of your heart, writes in clear handwriting â Ten years from now, I will still be Yoongiâs rock.
( ⥠)
Surprisingly, Yoongi hasnât been around that much lately.
Even Namjoon (who you consider as his Siamese twin) is clueless to why his friend hasnât been hanging out with him lately to do either everything or nothing, confused because theyâre enrolled to the same classes all the way to the same part-time jobs, yet Yoongiâs been mostly unavailable.
When Yoongi is, however, he doesnât speak at all about his previous absences. He comes as if heâs never disappeared a few times before that, his evasion to talk about his presence being apparent even if youâve asked him directly.
Youâre getting used to his new routine of hanging out with you only when the both of you are free, no longer moving mountains for both of your schedules to line up. Heâs more present this month than he was at the last, the criteria for it being how many times you bump into him in your own home.
Despite all odds and evens though, Yoongi canât get used to your silence. He knows you hold grudges longer than your brother, and the last time that he checked, he knows youâve already let go of your annoyance for him suddenly being unavailable without any explanation.Â
Itâs late, only the two of you are awake in the living room, thereâs ten scratch tickets on the table for you to share, and heâs even gotten you your own glass to which heâll put a controlled amount (a grand total of two long sips) of his own beer in. Youâre not stressing about an essay this time, but the unconscious pout on your face is still the same.
âYouâre awfully quiet.â
The frown on your face only goes deeper at being found out, the scratch of your lucky coin being the only clear thing that Yoongi hears.Â
âMy best friends want to have this slumber party,â you sigh, more upset about what youâve just uttered than you are happy about the cash prize youâve just won.
Yoongi takes what you say at face-value, groaning at his third straight loss for the night. âThatâs great. Wear cute pajamas, snap a couple of polaroids, donât be the first to fall asleep and last to wake up, and just keep a pocket knife with you when youâre going out by yourself.âÂ
The awe (and slight concern) over what he said should roll in any time now.
You should be comforted at Yoongiâs words because theyâre supposed to ease the swirl of your stomach, even if what he just said is a repackaged version of what your family said before. You should let go of your worries because Yoongi, of all people, says that itâs supposed to be great.
Instead, you feel neither of what you think Yoongi wants you to.
âWas it something I said?â he mumbles after some time, turning his nose up at you as he tries to retrace his words. âI have an extra pocket knife you can borrow if thatâs what youâre worried about.â
âWeâre gonna be talking about boys, Yoongi,â you screw your eyes shut, sighing into the palms of your hands with a heaviness. âWeâre gonna talk about crushes and experiences and all that.â
He shudders at that, his reaction mirroring Namjoonâs when you tried opening up to him. You get your brotherâs reaction to a degree, of course, because you feel as if youâd be disgusted too if the roles were reversed. You want to talk about it with your mom too, but at the end of the day, sheâs your parent and you just canât talk about anything and everything with her.Â
Yoongiâs your next plausible option.
âDo you want some ice cream right now? You know what, Iâll buy you-âŚâ Yoongi tries to evade the topic altogether, his attempt of escaping feeble as you drag him down by his hoodie.
âI havenât had my first kiss yet.â
âHeh.â
Yoongi shrugs at that, regaining his words when you deadpan at him. âSo? What about it?â
You starfish on the floor at that out of frustration, the whine youâve been bottling up coming out in the open because as usual, Yoongi doesnât get it. âI-Iâm probably the only one in my grade who hasnât kissed someone yet! I canât just lie carelessly because obviously, theyâll ask around.â
âSo?â Yoongi chuckles, his breeze towards your state shocking you. âWhatâs it to them if you havenât had your first kiss?â
âYou donât get it,â you grit through your teeth, crossing your arms so hard that it feels hard to inhale.
âIâm pretty sure I do,â he sing-songs, drinking the last of his beer. When youâre not looking though, he plans to either drink or chuck the remainder of your share because he doesnât want you to develop a taste for it.
The anger you have for Yoongi bubbles up once again, the itch in your throat unbearable. Youâre presented with the age gap between you once more, along with the raging emptiness in you that Yoongiâs reached so far and youâve reached so little.
âYou donât get it because youâve had all of these experiences when you were younger than my age right now,â you snap, although you donât look at him when you do. If you do look at him though, youâll only be reminded of how a face like his could have everything in this world â even a first kiss youâve never had.
âYeah, and so?â he knits his brows, growing defensive. You werenât lying at all, but he still feels a little offended at the dig. Heâs not not proud of it, but with the way you say it, itâs like you want him to burn in shame,
âStop saying so,â you angrily mumble in frustration, a little breathless because you still donât ease up on crossing your arms.
Yoongi straightens his posture, staring you down with his jaw set. Heâs stern as he is, nostrils flaring in irritation. âNo, Y/N. Iâm genuinely asking â so what? Whatâs it to you if I had my first kiss at a younger age? What about it if everyone else in your grade has kissed someone and you havenât? Itâs not the end of the world.â
âI-I donât know! Itâs just unfair!â you let up, yielding to both the facts that Yoongiâs right with it not being the end of the world, and that youâre still entitled to feeling upset.
âInstead of spending time obsessing over your first kiss, maybe I donât know, try being productive? Youâre heading to college soon and you havenât even thought of a career,â Yoongi goes off on you, making you roll your eyes automatically. There he goes again with the great big push of trying to push you into your supposed passions in life. âSomeone elseâs luck doesnât mean itâs already your misfortune.â
âBut it is.â
You say it so definitively, you almost convince him. You have your principles and so does Yoongi, but not everyone else. You have your principles yet you donât have the luck. Youâre not getting anywhere in life just like Yoongi or anyone else who was remotely born into wealth, no matter how quiet or obvious.
You canât pursue something that interests you in the slightest without thinking what would come out of it. You canât think of a degree and a course youâll stick with, enough to do for the rest of your life because the only other option is to fail completely if you donât. You have no plan and no passion and you donât know if youâll ever amount to anything to anyone at all.
By all means, you donât agree with Yoongi this time. Someone elseâs luck is your misfortune, in the same way that his first kiss doesnât mean that itâs yours.
The sidetrack to your argument is a closed case already, judging by your downcast gaze. âI just have to put myself out there, thatâs all. My first kiss doesnât even have to mean anything. I just want to have it,â you admit, shoulders relaxing.
âDonât,â Yoongi groans, the opposite of you as his whole body tenses.
He thinks that you donât get him at all.
âWhat do you meandonât?â
Your argumentâs long-over (atleast you thought it was) but Yoongiâs getting more agitated by the minute, the disbelief on his face throwing you off. âDonât do things just because you feel like you have to! Are you even hearing yourself right now?â
âI donât want to be left behind, Yoongi! Thatâs all Iâm trying to get at,â you raise your hands in surrender, shrugging thoughtlessly â it makes him want yell into a paper bag in exasperation. âI donât want to be picked last. I donât want to not be wanted.â
Yoongi exhales, screwing his eyes shut. It stays silent like that for a little while; him calming himself down, and you scratching your tickets. The calm doesnât stay for long because you open your mouth carelessly, again.
âCan you be my first kiss?â
âAre you insane?â
âUgh.â
You go back to your fourth scratch ticket, pouting in disappointment. Youâre unfazed about the win thatâs probably the largest sum youâve had ever since you started doing the lottery.
Youâre upset and youâre sick in the stomach but you stay silent like you never asked Yoongi to be your first kiss; itâs like you havenât indirectly admitted to him that you love him enough, more than so, to want him to be your first.
Youâre about to scratch the final ticket when Yoongi juts his hand out, fingers barely brushing yours to stop you.
âOn second thought, donât scratch that. Just keep it.â
âBecause you want to turn me into a hoarder too?â you snicker, heeding his suggestion regardless.
âBecause Iâm not going to be right about everything,â Yoongi mumbles, looking at you with a solemnness you canât decipher.
You try until the solemnness turns into pity.
âStill donât want to be my first kiss?â
Yoongi softly laughs to your face, smiling as he lets you down â whether easily or harshly, you canât tell.
âYou already know what Iâm going to say.â
( ⥠)
Youâd like to think that youâre not kept in the dark about most things.
You already know that although your mom hasnât had any relationships since your dad left, she still has plenty of suitors. Some of them are the reason why you have random food deliveries in the middle of the dinner that sheâs already cooked, some have sucked up to her by getting you and Namjoon gifts.Â
You know about Namjoonâs growing love for football, even with the lessons he takes in secret because he didnât want to trouble your mom for the money. Itâs why he does his part-time job and why youâre looking for one anyways. You donât want nor need much, so you almost always give him the remainder of your allowance by the end of each week.
Yoongi, on the other hand, you donât know much about. You know that heâs an only child with a doting mom who works overseas and a rich but emotionally unavailable dad at home, and thatâs about it. His home life is synonymous with yours, considering that your four walls have become an extension of his.
Maybe youâve become too lenient on him â either that, or heâs become too disrespectful. Itâs at times like these where your house is not his home, sickeningly so that you donât want it to be yours either.
Yoongi is a sight to behold as he makes out with a half-naked girl on your bed, in your room. Your room has never been the neatest but with everything going on, it feels that itâs become the dirtiest that itâs ever been. Your house slippers are on the floor even if you always leave them by the entryway, and your sheets are a mess despite being one of the only things you try to keep folded in the room.
Youâre angry, too much to the point that the words get caught in your throat. They catch onto bile and venom and everything at once, the strain in your voice heard when you yell.
âWhat the fuck?!â
Yoongi and the girl, whom you figure out to be Hyewon that heâs shared his first kiss with, jolt in unison. Hyewonâs scared shitless while Yoongiâs annoyed to death, the grunt he lets out pricking your ears further. âSorry, sorry. Sheâs my best friendâs sister. Sheâs so annoying,â he drags you out of your room before he even gives you the entitlement to storm out of there in a fit of rage, seeing red the longer that he seems upset at you.
âWhat the fuck was that, Yoongi?â you grit through your teeth, the moment of you seeing red turn into white because youâre so frustrated that you could actually cry. Your chestâs heavy, not only out of rage, but out of everything thatâs built up in the course of years.
âCan you keep it down?â Yoongi seethes, pursing his lips. âWhat, would you rather see us do it in the living room?â
âIn the â what? Who do you think you are? This isnât even your house, why are you bringing these girls here?â you point an accusing finger at him yet he doesnât back away, his annoyance for you only growing tenfold.
Heâs in the wrong no matter which way you look at it yet he doesnât realize it, the epiphany that Yoongi genuinely thinks heâs in the right for doing this to you making your skin burn in fire.
âThis is literally the first time Iâve ever done this! I canât bring her back to my place, my dad has guests over!â
âSo your smartest idea is to fuck someone in my bed?â
âOh, youâre welcome. Itâs the most action your four walls have ever seen,â he spits sarcastically, eyes narrowing at you. It takes little effort for him to dig up what you came to him for in worry and it terrifies you. The facet of Yoongi who had sternly told you that it was okay to be left behind if it means getting what you deserve, resembling nothing like him at the moment.
âI canât believe you!â you whisper as you tremble, the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. âI told you that in confidence.â
âIn confidence? It doesnât take a genius to figure out that youâre not exactly a catch, Y/N.â
You clench your jaw so hard that it hurts, you ball your fists so tightly that it stings.
You leave your home without saying another word.
.
.
.
Namjoonâs panicked.
He came home a little later than usual because he had maximized the life out of his soccer lessons, only getting the signal to leave when the lights were turned off. He was only slightly worried at the first place because he was supposed to cook dinner for the both of you, but he placated himself by realizing that youâre not the baby that he still thinks you are â you could cook dinner for yourself if you were hungry already.
He thinks nothing of it. In fact, he just makes a quick stop at the convenience store so the both of you could indulge in a liter of ice cream without your mom urging to leave some for another night. You could think of a recipe from scratch (and it almost always works out at the end), so Namjoon walked in fully thinking heâll get to sniff whatever concoction you have.
Except, he walks into a completely dark house, and thatâs when he panics.
He canât find your slippers by the entryway and youâre not in your room either. Youâre not at the other convenience store hunched over taking your chances on scratch tickets, and youâre not out on the street either going people-watching.
The panic rises in him the more that Namjoon grasps this is the first time that this has ever happened and he doesnât know why. Heâs always made an effort to be absorbed into both your personal and academic affairs, and as far as he knows, youâre neither in a sleepover nor on a field trip somewhere.
Namjoon thinks itâs his fault someway somehow, and the guilt canât fully dissipate from him until he sees you.
âHey, Yoongi,â he breathlessly gasps the moment his friend answers, the latter being surprised because he thought it was you who was calling him after what happened awhile ago.
Itâs his fault and heâs realized that hours too late, and the selfish part of him thinks that itâs you calling at ten in the evening begging for forgiveness.
âWhatâs up, man? Itâs late,â he wonders out loud, thinking for a second if they were too much of the Siamese twins that you tease them to be because he canât think of a rational reason why Namjoon would call him at this time of night.
Namjoon raggedly exhales, running a hand through his hair. âYeah, sorry about that. Iâm just wondering if youâve seen Y/N by any chance?â
Yoongiâs heart drops so loudly that Namjoon thought for second that his friend had hung up on him, his urgency being shared the moment that he asked.
âWhat? Y/N isnât home?â Yoongi asks in disbelief, immediately being filled with anxiety and disbelief. Just awhile ago, the two of you were arguing outside of your room. He did hear you leave, but he had fully expected for you to be back hours ago. Heâs wracked with guilt all over, the drop in his chest amplified by the pit in his stomach.
âSheâs not. Practice ran late and I-I know sheâs responsible so I didnât hurry home,â Namjoon recalls, being more and more frazzled by the second. âShe left her phone here, and mom isnât here either because sheâs visiting my grandparents, a-and I donât want to call her because I know sheâll be worried, a-and-âŚâ
Yoongi interrupts him, the tremble in his fingers only enabling him to dig his nails into his palm deeper. âIâm coming over. Letâs look for her together.â
It barely takes a minute for the both of them to come together, not even exchanging any pleasantries with each other before Yoongi steps on the gas.Â
Namjoonâs filled with guilt, the type that only a sibling could carry as a burden. He thinks he was too selfish â too accustomed to pulling your own weight that it must have given you the impression that you had no other choice but to. Whatever it was that made you leave out of the blue, Namjoon thinks he couldâve done more. He shouldâve came home and made you dinner as promised, for starters. Heâs guilty over the fact that heâs the only close familial male figure in your life and he let this happen, as he makes Yoongi put his headlights on high-beam, scanning for anyone that looks remotely like you.
Yoongi, on the other hand, is filled with a guilt he canât even begin to explain. It corrodes him from the inside-out in realization that heâs to blame for your sudden disappearance, the fact that Namjoon comes to him first to help find you not helping at all. If only your brother knew what he had done to you, heâs positive that heâll be on the receiving end of a punch â what gets him more is that Yoongi wouldnât blame him at all.
They see you in the bus stop two cities away, dressed in the same clothes you ran out with.Â
Namjoonâs relieved beyond compare while Yoongiâs fuming, his hands tucked inside his jacket to prevent himself from squeezing you into an embrace; neither of you deserve it.Â
Thereâs an underlying anger within Namjoon, one that lies behind the back of his throat as he checks you over for any injuries. The two of you walk ahead to Yoongiâs car while he himself trails behind, his heart significantly calmer than it was the past hour, yet nowhere near normal.
âWanna tell me what you did?â your brother hums, trying to exhale the worry thatâs embedded into him with each squeeze he gives around your shoulders.
âWent to the convenience store, bumped into my friends, then we took this impromptu roadtrip to go to the night market, then we all had our first actual shot of liquor and not just beer, my friend who owns the car turned out to be a lightweight, and now everyone just has to commute home,â you narrate in recollection, squeezing Namjoon back to try and ground him.
âOkay,â he answers simply, nodding. âWanna tell me what happened before you did all those things?â
The breathless chuckle that leaves you is empty, void of any amusement at all. You smile nonetheless, unable to placate both yourself and Namjoon. âNope.â
You arrive in silence to Yoongiâs car, the words unsaid between the three of you generating more tension than your brief disappearance itself.
Yoongi opens the front door for you, but you settle for sitting in the backseat.
#HOW R WE FEELING TARGET AUDIENCE!!! :O#yoongi imagine#yoongi oneshot#yoongi oneshots#yoongi series#yoongi angst#yoongi angst imagine#yoongi fluff#yoongi x reader#yoongi x y/n#yoongi au#min yoongi imagine#min yoongi scenario#yoongi fanfic#yoongi x you#bts yoongi imagine#bts yoongi x reader
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you are my favorite!!!! super happy to know you are taking requests :D also i hope you are doing wellâĄâĄ
could i request a yoongi x f!reader possibly where they have a rlly bad argument and make it up and it ends really fluffy? maybe the argument could be over jealusy or this stuff ofc not in a toxic way. Thank you in advance :)
BLOWING SMOKE.
PAIR: yoongi x f reader
TAGS/WARNINGS: established relationship, producer!yoongi, yoongi fucks up real bad, hes lowk an ass in this one sorry xxx, he fixes things tho, misunderstandings with a great amount of miscommunication, reader thinks hes cheating, jealousy, angst, also fluff, a teenie tiny dusty bit of smut implications at the very end, but no smut I promise. that's it I guess?? lmk if I missed something. oh yeah this is probably full of unedited mistakes, just ignore :)
A/N: omg omg first off, THANK U I love u lots đ second, this matches the new fic I was already working on so akdjqjsjjs was in the mood for some good angst hehehe...although, I gotta say, this was pretty rushed cz I had a shit ton of things to do (I still do) but I tried to make it as good as I can, I hope u like it 𼚠also, ik u said 'not in a toxic way' but I think I might have gotten carried away? nothing too extreme I hope, but we all fuck up, and yoongi here is not doing any better.
PS. requests are still open! feel free to drop some in my ask box anytime :)
Loving Yoongi was like a field of cotton grass dancing with the wild wind on a fresh late spring day. But being in a relationship with him, much like any other relationship out there, wasn't always a bed of soft petals and a sky of warm sunshine.
âI'm sorry, darling. I have to stay here for another two hours. You can still come over if you want.â That was what he said over the phone, one day, when you asked whether he was free for a dinner date or not. It's been a hectic week for the both of you, two adults trapped in the hectic mess of what we call life. An unsettling bubble formed in your chest. You missed him, so, terribly much. The days went on, and it became harder for you to sit down with him for a genuine conversation or a wholesome meal. The mere thought that your relationship was heading towards one of those bland and colorless stages was heavy on your heart.
His suggestion sounded apologetic enough for you to swallow the pill entirely, so you immediately declared your agreement, grabbed your purse, then left the apartment.
On your twenty-minutes-long walk there, you made sure to grab a bottle or two of wine and some snacks, because, knowing Yoongi, he would let his body devore itself before he would feed himself a proper meal, once he's inside that studio.
Except that, all of your hopes of a hopelessly romantic night at his studio, and that uncomfortable couch he purchased specifically so he wouldn't doze off when he's supposed to work, vanished as soon as you pushed the door open and walked in.
Yoongi never said or did anything to hurt your trust, neither were you the type of lover to shed tears and break glass when they see their partner with another person. But seeing him sitting so close to the female producer you were already familiar with, their chairs almost touching as they fixed their attention on the large computers on top of his desk, that was a sight you weren't ready for. And it wouldn't have been so much of an issue to you if you weren't sitting in the same room with your boyfriend and the woman he used to hook up with on a regular basis before he got with you.
âIt's good to finally see you, __.â She gave you a smile. A little, polite and genuine gesture that, in contrast to the smile you mirrored to her, made your stomach flip.
Another hour passed with you staring mindlessly at your phone screen and them doing their thing. You were on the verge of excusing yourself to leave, to maybe catch some fresh air instead of suffocating to death inside that closed space, when the girl finally stood up to leave.
You watched as she gave him a hug, her hand gently rubbing at his shoulder, before she faced you to bid her goodbye and left.
Throughout the entire thing, Yoongi didnât spare you a glance. His back was the only thing you could see, along with the back of his head, covered with his favorite dark beanie. You thought her departure would soothe your heart and put your anxious mind to rest. That Yoongi would turn around and explain why the hell he was hanging out with her, and not with his usual team members. Except that neither of the above happened.
âIâm done here too, for the day. We can go now.â He said as he stood up from his own chair, stretching his arms and arching his body with a rough groan. You were left wondering whether you were the insane one there. Or maybe he was that blind to the chaos happening in your head at that very moment.
The words were on the tip of your tongue. You could no longer hold them back. They were too strong to be kept hidden deep inside your throat. And so, you cleared your throat and let them speak for themselves. âYou never told me you still work with her.â
You paused, taking a deep breath as you anticipated an answer from him, which came rather more lightheartedly than you fancied.
âOh, I didn't think it was worth talking about.â He said, hovering over the desk to turn the devices off.
âReally?â You tucked the tip of your finger under another one, his usual nonchalance was supposed to sooth you, reassure your heart that he only belonged to you, but it only served to stir something inside your anxious self. âBut it's still something, Yoongi..â
âDarling, you were never bothered with who I work with.â He remarked.
âBecause you never had history with your usual team members.â Your blunt argument, with all the bitterness it held, took the both of you off guard.
âIs this about what I think it is?â He glanced up at you again, finally catching up on the situation at hand. âLook at me. Are you upset because she was here?â
âYes I am.. You never mentioned the fact that you still see her everyday. Were you planning on keeping that from me?â
He let out a heavy sigh. âI told you it was never a big deal, baby. That's why I didn't bring it up.â
âYoongi, it doesn't matter what you think of it. I deserve to know this type of thing.â
He scoffed at that, his attention turning to his stuff as he started gathering them. âBaby, please. I was working. We had a project to do. It's not like I slept with her or something.â
âDid you?â
At the heavy implication of your short question, Yoongi froze in his place, unmoving. His eyes spoke of surprise and pain as he stared deeply into yours, sending a chill down your spine. You blinked, and the sound of crashing almost made you jump when he threw the headphones he was holding carelessly on the desk.
âYou think I did?â He asked. Even as his voice was completely empty of amusement, he didn't raise his voice at you. âYou think I slept with her?â
âI don't know.â You shrugged. âThat's what I'm trying to know.â
Neither of you spoke after that. He continued staring at you, not providing an answer that could satisfy your clenching heart. Instead, and just like every single time the two of you had an argument before that, he faced his desk again and busied himself with his belongings, his movements harsher and rougher than before.
âIt's better if you leave now.â He said, his voice disturbingly cold.
You wished he could say anything. Maybe snap at you for being so harsh with your judgment on him, or lay his heart out and tell you the thing you dreaded the most, that he indeed slept with her. But he didnât. He just faced the other way and did utter a word. And so, you grabbed your purse, phone in your other hand, and walked out of the studio.
Deep in the darkness of your room, you lay on your bed, deep in thought, staring at the ceiling like it could crack open and show you the secret towards a blissfully happy love story to remedy your soul. Your string of thoughts was cut short when noise broke out in your apartment. The sound of the front door being locked and closed again.
You craned your neck to catch a glimpse of the digital clock on top of your nightstand. It was three am.
Having had this scenario happen multiple times throughout the years of your relationship with him, you left your tear stained pillow and followed the source of the noise, your boyfriend in the kitchen.
You found him bent down in front of the open fridge, his back, once again, facing you. If he didn't hear your footsteps against the floor, he definitely heard the soft sniffle you let out as you leaned against the doorframe, you were certain.
âIt's three in the morning.â You stated, like it was the most important news you could give him at that very moment. He didn't spare you a glance, settling for a can of beer and pushing the door of the fridge closed with his leg. âYou shouldnât drink at this hour.â
âGood to know you care about me.â He said, his voice calm but dripping with the usual bitter sarcasm he often exercised when he was tense or angry.
You couldn't help rolling your eyes at that. He was really upset. âCan we just talk?â
He flicked the can open with one hand, taking a long gulp of the liquor that left you with a small frown. âWhy? So you get to accuse me of cheating again?â
âYoongi, please-â
âNo, __.â He paused, his gaze felt like a freezing flame to your soul. âYou feel the way you feel, yeah I get it. But doubting my loyalty like that? Thinking that I could really go out of my way to cheat like it's nothing? What the fuck are you doing?â
His words, coupled with the way he looked at you, felt like a punch to your guts in that very moment. He was right, you knew that. No matter how insecure and threatened you felt back then, no matter how fucked up the thing he did was, cheating shouldn't have been your first conclusion. Especially when you loved and cherished him so deeply. With a trembling voice, you gathered your words and tried to ignore your stinging eyes as they threatened to spill your hidden emotions out. âI... Our relationship has been so dull lately, I was hoping we could spend some time together and catch up, but then I saw her there and I just..â
âJust what, __?â He cuts your speech. âDo you even trust me?â
âI do, of course I do! But you didnât even talk to me about it, and when I tried to talk, you were all like âOh, it doesn't matter, you're just being dramatic.ââ
âThat is not what I said.â He hissed.
âDoesnât matter!-â A sob interrupted your speech, you ran a hand through your hair in frustration. âCan we just- please-â
Your words were cut short when he started walking towards you. You felt his arms engulfing you in a tight embrace, your face finding its place buried into the crook of his neck, where your warm tears touched his soft, milky skin.
âShh.. I know.â He whispered into your ear, the strong smell of alcohol, carrying a hint of coffee within, filled your senses. Your arms moved on their own, automatically hugged him back. âYou know I would never break your trust, right?â
You nodded your head. Something about the softness of his voice, heavy with vulnerability, made your heart crush into pieces. The way he held you, despite the hurt you knew he felt because of you, had a toll on you.
You pulled away, enough to bring your hands up and cup his face. Your teary eyes staring into his weary ones as you spoke. âThat was so stupid of me. I'm sorry.â
âI'm the stupid one here, baby..â He turned his face to nuzzle your palm and press a kiss onto its skin. âI should've thought into it. I was so immersed in work, I didn't see how fucked up the entire situation was. Should've paid more attention.â
He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead and letting his lips linger on your skin there for a few more seconds. âI'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry I made you think that lowly of me.â
The gentleness of his gesture and his words made your tears flow with a mind of their own. There was never a time he made a huge mistake and didn't make you feel like the sky might fall apart at the sight of your tears. It only made the guilt heavier on your heart.
He tightened his hold around you, pulling your body flush against his as he let you cry your hearts content out on his skin. You could feel his hand on the back of your head, a silent encouragement for you to nuzzle his neck again. You obliged.
âI can't believe you made me cry at three a.m like this.â You whined, after a long moment of hushed words of love and quiet sobs, and sniffled.
âI'm sorry, darling..â He cooed at you, wiping the tears off of your cheeks with his gentle fingers. The soft expression he had quickly faded into a slight smirk that appeared on his handsome face. âIt wouldn't be the first time I do that, though.â
âHey!â Your hand landed on his shoulder in a light swat. âWe're having a moment here! And I still haven't forgiven you, you know!â
He let out a light chuckle, his smirk deepening when he tilted his head and noticed the faint blush on your face. âWorry not, I'll make it up to you. I'm gonna make you cry in a different way, darling.â
âGo away!â You whined again and shoved him away. His suggestive words made your face feel a lot warmer than necessary, but you tried to sound as stern and unaffected as you possibly could, under his gaze. âI'm going to bed. You better not follow me there, you're sleeping on the couch.â
âOh, no need for the bed, baby.â He ignored your empty threat and rejection, making a quick job of scooping you up in his arms and heading towards the living room. âWe have a foldable couch for a reason.â
âIt's an expensive couch, you ass!â
#yoongi#bts#bts yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi scenarios#yoongi fluff#yoongi drabble#bts scenarios#suga fluff#suga angst#suga#yoongi fic#bts angst#yoongi angst#bts writing#bts reactions#bts fic#yoongi gif#min yoongi#yoongi icons
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đđđđđđđđ | MYG (m)
title. predator
summary. âDo you realize how dangerous this is? You're tempting meâ you're tempting yourself to start something we both possibly don't want to know the consequences of.â
pairing(s). yoongi x female reader (oc)
genre. gangster au, smut
warnings. kidnäpping but not much of its descriptions, corruption and weapons, double thoughts, an..gst? , explicit warnings under the cut :)
wc. 7.8k+
a/n 1 : if you feel like some parts feel familiar to you, it's because this was previously posted in my old blog around a year ago which was inspired by âthat thatâ. but this is a newly written and re-edited one :)))
taglist | main masterlist
smut warnings : masturbation(f), voyeurism and mentions of exhibitionism, fantasizing, dirty talk , slight humiliation, pet names teasing, chains and gloves đ , so much of teasing dear lord, bondage 𫣠, gagging with panties, bondage, oral (f. and allusions to m.) and fingering (f), finger sucking and squirting :D
â f..fuck..â
Your eyes screw shut just the moment you feel your fingers working against the fabric of your clothed cunt, your wetness increasing with each flick of your fingers to your throbbing clit. You draw in a sharp breath, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as your moments get a bit faster, feeling your slick pool around your entrance. It's your fingers who are working, but in your mind, those ring clad fingers are the ones touching you. Pleasing you.
The feeling of your panties being the barrier is very much uncomfortable, you need to take that off to feel yourself completely.
You harshly pull your panties down your legs, feeling the cool air hitting your slick heat, making you shudder as you hiss in anticipation. You can't deal with this anymore, you need to do something. Or else you'd completely go insane thinking about that man.
It just happened like a daydream. A few days ago, you can guess, flying away like hours.
You wake up to a strong headache with your vision being blurred and watery. A pair of black Jordan shoes tapping the floor, in slow motions, comes to your sight, as if waiting for something to come is all that you could see at that moment with dots growing in your vision. The moment you feel a bit more awake, your whole body aches so bad, it feels as if you've been trashed up.
Your whole body feels as wobbly as jelly all over. Whimpering, you try to move slightly, but fail with a broken sigh. That's when you feel a strong arm wrapping around your figure, hauling you up swiftly, and you let out a small gasp at the action. Your head spins at the sudden movement as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your breathing was strained as your chest heaves up and down, trying to gulp as much oxygen as you could. You realize that you're no longer lying on the floor, but rather. . .a firm, clothed chest, which rose and fell with each breath, as you felt the thrum of heartbeats resonating in your own eardrums with each second that ticked by. Your eyes fly open at the simple realization that you were being hugged by someone, and that someone smelled like the subtle notes of lavender with a delicate undertone of citrus.
Your cheeks heat up when you realize how attractive you find this and how much your tired body seeks for the comfort his warm body provides you in the simple embrace. You want this small moment of comfort to last a bit longer, as you try to snuggle in, but the guy seems to have different plans. He yanks your fragile body away from his own, snatching away the small warmth you had, a whine building up in your throat in exhaustion.
You don't dare to open your eyes which feel as if they're burning with hot tears, but you do feel the strong gaze piercing into your skull as you feel yourself still being in his embrace, him still holding you with a single strong arm wrapped around your waist.
His unrelenting embrace felt sensitive on your skin as your muscles feel tight and sore, and you try to wriggle around a bit. Your limbs protest with pain the longer you stand on both of them, knees close to be giving up. You struggle to stay awake and not surrender to the lull of pain and tiredness which wants you to.
You don't know where you are, or how you came here, but you surely know, you can surely feel that the room, or wherever you stand is freezing cold. Suddenly, the oppressive and eerie silence was shattered by a sudden and chilling sensation.
A cold, metallic object pressed against your chin, and your eyes once again flew open with your heart racing,realizing that it was the barrel of a gun.
Your eyes can only pass away the unshed tears which had accumulated, soon finding yourself so close to a mass of silky but messy black hair, and you realize that you've been pulled back to your kidnapperâs embrace.
It felt suffocating how his alluring scent still clouded your senses, now sending them to a hayware as you take in the close proximity. You feel his grip on you tightening, his malevolent breath hot on your ear. A sinister, deep whisper slithered into your consciousness,
âDon't even think about it.â
As if you could.
Your fingers flick lightly against your heat, right above the protective skin of the sensitive pearl. Sharp gasps leave your mouth, feeling the pleasure build in your lower stomach the more you work on your delicate parts.
You were sure you were trembling on the table you were seated with your legs spread wide open, your viscous arousal dripping down to the table and making a mess on it. Would he love that it's all because of him?
Gods, if anyone enters the room without any notice of your position, the first thing they'd capture is your bare, pulsing cunt. But you were way too turned on to think straight or think about the possible consequences. Or did it rather turn you on? You didn't know.
A thin layer of sweat covers your almost nude body, your breasts heaving out with each breath and nipples begging to be touched, pebbled by the cool air and pleasure. But you're way too desperate to do that yourself- your mind screamed his name, physically unable to make any noises. Him, him, him.
âAsk no questions and be good. No harm would be done to you if you cooperate.â
His voice was laced with nonchalance, yet emerging as a sultry whisper with a slight rasp. He puts down your worn out figure to a black, slightly worn out couch, which seemed hard and dull with the appearance, yet it was more comfortable than the hard floor you had been lying on for what your spine told were hours.
You nervously squirm under his strong and unrelenting gaze, thinking that heâs implying your desire to escape from here. But much to your horror, or even delight, you are already craving the gush of the odd warmth he provided you, even if that was for a second. You gulp down your saliva, feeling your almost cracked throat ache in the process.
Your stomach churns at how wrong yet right this feels with your morals flying off the horizon, yet, a part of you asks if the âmoralsâ you were taught were actually morals, or were just ideals.
He passes you a bottle of water, sliding it towards you on the table as he keeps down the shotgun, followed by a small âclickâ at the metal touching the wood. Your heart nearly pops up at the sight of how worn out it looks, the metal shining under the room's lighting almost looks dangerous.
The luster it holds reminds you that something as used and small could be just as dangerous regardless of how worn out it could be.
âBut if you don't cooperate, this gun won't, too.â
You ought to be shivering at the tone he uses, and a part of you does. Despite the blood chilling threat, an unexpected thrill course through your exhausted veins, finding your kidnapper's dark charisma strangely alluring.
Your pupils fix on his right hand which still holds the gun. To make sure the gun wouldn't accidentally fire, he gently pushed the safety switch on the side of the gun to the "on" position.
It was a small, reassuring click that meant the gun couldn't shoot, even if he accidentally squeezed the trigger. You, or anyone else would be surprised at your knowledge about the parts of a gun but you'd rather think about your fatherâs ignorance of the specific part your kidnapper was cautious enough to push at the specific moment.
You were too exhausted to think that you were only eight when you first saw a similar gun lying on the coffee table, left open by no one but your father.
Your breathing is back to somewhat normal now. What actually clouds your senses is how you're obliged to agree that a man so beautiful like him, you had seldom encountered any in your limited time you were given access to freedom, back home. Yet, it surprises you that he's not some affluent multi-millionaire but a gangster or rather, a predator.
His fingers are pale and slender, with rings full on display. Following the veins of his wrist were shiny black bracelets and shell bands on top. You'd think that the color contrasts his beautiful pale skin so dramatically, if you'd stare at it enough it's gonna feel like a painting to you. Your eyes never quit checking him out silently as he sternly tells you that if you tried escaping, it won't be good for you.
From head to toe, you try to be subtle, but you cannot deny now when you'd hear your friends talk about what power the attraction towards a man holds. A small part of you wished if he could catch you checking him up, if he'd know your yearning for him.
How good would his fingers feel inside you ?
The thought alone makes your pussy gush out more arousal, your free hand toying with your hardened nipples as you moan quietly, or you try to.
You know that he would be around nearby, just to make sure you're not escaping..but you had no plans for that. You are already familiar that he's not idle enough to be camping by the cabin the whole day, and you're straight up delusional to think that the nightly visits (?) are for you.
You silently hope and pray that no one comes to rescue you sooner, because going back meant you could no longer be around him, and you'll no longer be free as you are now, as ironic that seems.
The irony intensifies because you trust him more than you trust your own father who was however on the verge to sell you off for his own benefit, for money. At times you'd wish to normally see Yoongi, not as some hostage and your abductor. So far, his men have been good, providing you food and water, and even some drinks to keep you going. You could be even proud of yourself to befriend one of them, or well, to have the goon talk to you if that is considered as befriending. They're all bark and no bite, you think, because they try a bit too hard to play even at times when you ask them for a silly stroll outside.
And if that was all, you'd happily agree to live with Yoongi. the man who seemed ice cold at the touch of eyes, but you knew he had much more for you to explore. You already know that a calm man like him gets enraged at the push of his extremes, and that leaves you pondering.
What would he actually be when his inner self is leashed out, as he pins you to the wall, hot bodies pressed against each other?
Would he bend you over the same table you're fucking yourself on?
Shit. It feels so wrong, but why does it feel so good? You're tormenting your enlarged clitoris in tight circles, feeling more and more slick drip down your hole. You cry out a silent plea, feeling the coil in your lower tummy twist harder with every flick, every touch to your delicate heat.
âAhn..â you whimper pathetically, suddenly picturing his slender fingers working on your cunt instead of yours. His tongue which often he struck out to wet his lips..would lick your cunt likâ
Before you know it, your eyes roll back to your head, the coil in your tummy snapping into two. A loud moan of Yoongi leaves your throat, feeling your clitoris throb even harder with your orgasm. You shut your eyes close as pure waves of pleasure hit you in the form of white, pleasure so intense that you're seeing dots in your vision. You've never come so hard before like this, feeling your hole clench helplessly around nothing.
You cease your moments when you feel yourself jerk with overstimulation at a certain flick and you know it's time to stop.
Shame washes over you as you straighten up your back to a better position.
Fuck.
Yoongi was confused.
Or a bit concerned, even. It was nearly midnight when he was passing beside your cabin, already sure of you being well looked after. It was a small whimper which caught his notice and in the very first place it took him aback. He wondered what happened.
Though he had the most trusted men working under him, no one could ever know anything until something really happened. You can't risk anything. Worry itching in his veins, he advanced forward to the closed window of your cabin and listened closely. A string of profanities was all that he could hear, causing him to furrow his brows. Were you in pain ?
You weren't the target looked out for, merely just a bait. He did not want you to suffer, even if he knows that his men couldn't understand it at first when they bought you here. Even if he knows that he canât explain it to you, he silently hopes that his further behavior could do that.
This was the reason why he immediately opened the door and the sight in front of him made his throat dry.
His eyes widened so slightly to see you spread out nude like an eagle on the table, your small hand pinching your erect nipples. Your head was lolled back and mouth hung open, occasionally the sweetest moans leaving your parted lips. his pupils shook violently to avoid travelling south and what he should absolutely not see. You were so desperately trying to get off, and he knew he should exit right away.
Fuck. He was definitely not a creep. Heat creeped up to his neck and cheeks at the realization and he turned back to leave.
Yoongi.
His name. You moaned his name and that upon reaching his ears, he needed to think. twice, thrice. With his head. the one on his neck, not with the one inside his pants, which twitched awake to life. He felt his heartbeat resonating in his own ears, and that left him feeling a single thing. Needy. He gulped, feeling his stomach churn with arousal and at the same time a gut feeling of this being wrong, and he couldn't think straight.
You let out a high pitched screech of his name with a strong of fuckfuckfuck, and he knew that you had already reached your orgasm. His cock now strained hard against the material of his pants, and Yoongi has to fight back a guttural groan from breaking free.
âYouâre a lot more flexible than I thought.â
You freeze, your breathing labored as you recognise the voice. Fucking fuck. Blood reaches upto your cheeks as you peer up slightly with shock and embarrassment, shame doubling over inside you. You see him, Yoongi manspreading on the old couch opposite to you with a nasty smirk painted on his handsome features.
Had he been watching you?
You blink, feeling your whole body burn with embarrassment. You'd realize that if he did, he heard you doing sinful things to yourself while moaning his name. You were supposed to be scared of him, he even once held you at gunpoint, but you're not even a tad bit scared of him.
You feel oddly safe with him, around him, even if you're sitting naked and vulnerable infront of him. Maybe it's a bad idea to be so comfortable. He's not as crazy as you. How embarrassing, you consciously and immediately shut your legs close, shrinking under his strong gaze, cheeks warm and throat dry.
You gulp in nervousness, his expressions remain stoic but his eyes shine with amusement. You feel a bit too self conscious now, hoping to find your shirt where you last left it. But your eyes betray you, vision trailing down to his hands, clad with fingerless gloves which rests at his meaty, thick thighs clad with black leather pants. His manspreading has you gazing directly on his crotch area, and fucking hell.
He's girthy.
His hard-on does tell you that maybe he's been looking at you for quite a long time..
Your face heats up more if possible as your eyes succumb up to his face, an open mouthed, cocky smirk evident in his features. He cocks a brow at you, narrowing his eyes slightly.
âIâll take it that you like what you see.â
Fuck. Fuck.
You did. You really did, and much to your horror you feel your clit throb with arousal once again.
âWhat if it was someone else other than me who heard you? Did you really like putting up a show like that ? â
a deep chuckle left his throat, his voice much deeper than you've heard it to be. Or maybe you're just hallucinating.
â tsk, tsk tsk. moaning my name so loudly in the middle of the night. Are you so okay with your moans waking everyone up, kitten?â
Fuck. Your hole pulses with arousal at his words and you're unable to answer him. Kitten. The nickname makes your insides go jelly, heart thumping loudly in your chest.
Yet, just sitting up properly and lowering your head is all that you can do, biting down on your bottom lip. You're inappropriately horny for him, and the shameless arousal which spikes inside you knowing that he's just as aroused like you makes you dizzy. If you're being honest, you can't care about anyone else when he's around. You blame it on the bubbling lust inside you.
He can be intimidating, he is intimidating, but for sure no one has made you feel this safer than he does, ironically being your kidnapper. You feel cozy inside a cabin rather than the luxurious bungalow you've spent your whole life till now in.
You're crazy, because maybe a wrong move from your side and you'll lie lifeless on this same floor with no one to give a fuck. That's how it usually works.
Yet, you want to take the risk. You do want to fall prey to the predator.
Suddenly, you feel a harsh tug at your chin, your cheeks squished together and your lips painfully rounded to a pout. You feel the leather of the glove of his palm directly in contact with your chin, cradling your face. Your shaking eyes meet his own, calm but burning eyes, and he almost lets out a growl. a guttural growl that almost has you feeling fresh arousal heat up your pussy.
âSpeak when you're being spoken to. "
His face is so close to your own that it almost feels heaven to see him this close. His black hair is no longer slicked back, but now open and it parts beautifully on his forehead, long enough to reach his nape. His thick eyebrows are slightly furrowed, and wooden brown eyes were darker than you'd have seen them. They're blown out, the dim lighting of the room merging the brown of his iris to the black of his pupil into a whole dark mass.
You're so close that if you could, you could count the number of pores on his flawless, pale skin, which always seemed like no expensive skincare could afford such a glow. Even in a situation like this, it almost makes you feel as if you're bound under his spell, a spell which has your body going lax and sanity leaving you in an instant.
His grip on you is firm, but not harsh. He makes sure it's not too much. but however it makes him feel slightly different, slightly more confused to see nothing but admiration in your own blown out eyes and it makes him frown.
Why would you look at him with such a gaze? He's not dumb. He knows that look. With his free hand he brings his fingers close to his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose, frowning with his lips sealed tightly. Almost hiding a groan inside his throat, he chastises,
âI don't think you understand that I can kill you anytime with the same hands which you seem to be very fond of.â
It's a subtle warning he tries to jeer. He knew as much as he wanted this, you wanted this more. But after this would be done, things maybe won't be the same.
He got no response back, which silently pissed him more. He wanted you to speak. He wanted you to confirm that it's not a delusion. He wanted you to say it out loud. He didn't know if feeling this way towards your hostage could be rational, but lust can make you feel a lotâ and he didn't know if this was right.
Squeezing your cheeks a bit more harsher this time, his right hand traveled down slowly, tracing an invisible path on your skin, leaving sparks of desire behind its wake. You feel your pussy ache with need, nipples pebble up and you nearly stifle a whimper.
His hand reaches for your knee, in such a soothing manner, prying it open that so are your legs. But it doesn't advance any further. It just rests on your heated, damp flesh, almost as if hesitant to move forward.
Your face heats up when you feel his touch ignite a passion in you and you feel a gush of your arousal trickle down your thighs. Fuck, you honestly did not expect that the touch of the cool leather could burn your skin to hell. Given that the hand belongs to Yoongi, youâre nearly gone. You're forced to look at him directly as he's still holding your face and his gaze is no longer icy.
They hold a certain glint you assume as softness, the ridges of his eyebrows no longer tight. Yet his feline gaze remains so firm that it has you feeling your heart course a foreign sensation that you could grasp as....shyness. Slowly, you feel just his fingertips on your knee run forward to the flesh of your inner thighs, testing you. Teasing you.
You're going to go insane.
âPweash..â a whine escapes your puckered lips even before you know it. He only seems subtly pleased, opting to gently stroke the flesh of your inner thighs. Gods, the touch of leather. Did he really have to do this? Your hole clenches helplessly, having him toy with you so close to where you need him the most.
âWhat was that?â he lets go of his hand cradling your face, and suddenly snakes his arm to your nude waist and pulls you close. So close that you'd look at him, your noses will touch. Close enough to feel his breath fanning on your cheeks, close enough to have his fingers toying with your thighs dance near the skin of your dripping heat. Close enough to have your bare chest press against his own clothed one.
You huff slightly, both in slight ache in your cheek muscles and frustration of how smug he is.
â Please, Yoongi.. â
The smugness in his face disappears and the arm on your waist tightens. Yet, he makes no move to inch forward towards your aching center, and you're really lured to push your hips down to his hands, for anything. To relieve the ache. You don't know what he's thinking right now, but the seriousness on his faceâ laced with that deep voice of his â is a huge turn on for you, and you're shameless to admit it.
âDo you realize how dangerous this is?You're tempting meâ you're tempting yourself to start something we both possibly don't want to know the consequences of,â his voice is oddly cold as his gaze remains fixed on your own. His voice sounds. . . uncertain, somehow, but not hesitant.
âDo you not want this?â you ask him, your voice small as you suddenly realize that the cabin is beginning to get colder and colder. His head drops down, his hold on you slightly wavering, but nevertheless still thereâ and he shakes his head. Almost as if he's trying to convince himself about his own inner questions. As if he's denying them all.
âI don't fuck around with people I'm not supposed to fuck around with.â his voice is laced with a questioning tone, you notice, and his fingers resting on your inner thighs twitch. âYou. . . you're just being used as bait.â
âI know.â you ache to cradle his face in your hands, but then you realize that it maybe is a bit more intimate than you'd think. He looks dejected at you knowing the information, about the possibility that maybe your own father won't spare your life. Now or later, it's perhaps inevitable that he'd suspect you being not liable enough about his family business secrets, and he'd get a way out. To have you removed from his path.
âWhy. . .?â
His expressions morph to one of despair, and his eyebrows furrow. He was so fucking confused that why'd he be so affected by something as common as that. He knows it's not something odd for patriarchal leaders killing members of their own families just for the sake of their businessâ he has seen a lot of them through the course of years. And what hit him in the chest was how casual you were about itâ almost as if you were aware of your familyâs intention all along.
He did not know why whatever he felt inside his chest for you was oddly soft, something he strictly banished himself to feel. He could not. He had no room for softness inside him. no fucking way. He tried ignoring it, but as days turned to weeks, he knew that he subconsciously broke his own rule.
âWhat why?â you tilt your head in confusion.
âWhy are you so cool about it?â
âIt is what it is.â
âYou don't realiââ
âI fucking do. I fucking want you, Min Yoongi. I fucking want to stay with you. Please.â his eyes widen and you see his pupils shake and the gears inside his brain rotate.
âI do realize that you've never ever taken the responsibility of a person on your own shoulders. Your team is capable enough to take care of themselves, and you perhaps are thinking that I,â He sighs at your words, shaking his head and pressing his lips to a straight line in a grimace.
He's considering everything, not because of you or him, but for both of you. For the future.
Your thumb caressed the subtle hints of a stubble on his chin, no longer feeling the pull to stay quiet. Not when you've finally got the chance to be. â...that I possibly can't do that,â
âEven if you do, you must know that there's no going back. No looking bacââ
âNo looking back, Yoongi. I got it.â
You bring forward your hands to cup his warm cheeks within your palms. His eyes widen and his mouth parts slightly, and you'd almost think it to be impossible for a dangerous, intimidating gangster like him to be so adorable. Your hands travel to his nape, where the silver jewelry rests, carefully running your fingers on the edgy metal patterns.
Your face falls at the silence and the stoic countenance you're met with.
The way his heart thumped inside his chest at your words was enough of an evidence to him, but he knew it could be just another dangerous game. He has never been with any woman he's kept hostage over the yearsâ and he'd thought it wouldn't be his first time.
He wants to believe youâ he wants to believe the honesty and innocence reflected in your eyes, but there's that part of his brain which has learnt the harder way. Yoongi knows that a single mistake and his whole group would be hustled to the blazes of the vermillion.
âWhy are you doing this?â his eyes bore into your own, two pools of endless obsidian, threatening to shallow you in the mysterious depths of them.
His hand near your thigh caresses further your neglected heat, and you jolt at the sudden touch. His face inches closer to you, once again, so daringly close that once again you can make out how fierce his eyes seem right now. His warm breath falls on your now sweat dried skin near your cheeks, and there's a spike in your heartbeat.
He expects an answer, you know that he's not going to say that out loud, and the leather of his glove on the skin of your thigh feels rather soft. Your gulp down a mouthful of air, preparing to say something out loud which you haven't ever.
âIt's because I. . . I want to live. I want to be set free.â
âHnngh!!â
Some few moments ago, you were almost lured into thinking that you'll call it a night.
You felt like the gangster mode was switched off after your conversation, but he'd warned you that the conversation wasn't over yet. You'd breathed down a sigh of half relief and half wonder, pondering over how an act like. . .such, escalated to something you'd craved for. Embarrassment to confession.
But when his gloved pointer brushed the innermost skin of your thigh, your eyes widened as wide as saucers, looking up to him, who already had an open mouthed smirk painted on his face, almost as if he's amused.
âSo how do you want me to fuck you?â
His crude words had a fresh wave of arousal pulsing out of you, and you'd gasped silently, accidentally batting your lashes at him. He'd groaned out loud, once again grabbing your face and pulling you close till his soft lips brushed over your own parted ones.
âWasnât that what you actually wanted, princess? Me to fuck you dumb?â you should've known that he indeed had a dirty mouth, but estimating how much it made your cunt throb and gush, you'd known that you didn't want him to stop. You'd moaned at his words, silently nodding furiously like a pathetic bitch.
âDid I or did I not tell you to speak when you're spoken to?â he'd growled right at your face, an arm snaking around your waist once again. His eyes had trailed down to your exposed breasts, and the hand on your waist had trailed closer to the swell of your boob. He'd licked his lips at the sight, but made no further move which had you squirming for his touch.
âPlease Yoongi, please touch me. .â
A pleased smile had taken over his features at your pleas.
âFlashing these tits right on my face and then asking me nicely. Who am I to deny? Whatever princess wants, princess gets.â
And with that, he'd dipped down to your breasts, your back immediately arching up to his greedy mouth where he'd toyed with your hard nips till your breasts were spotted with blooming purple marks.
But right now, your throat already feels dry crying out his name repeatedly as you can only see the dark mass of raven hair peeking in between your thighs, tickling you over and over as his skilled mouth brings you closer and closer to a blinding climax.
Your eyes are glossy and your nipples hurt as how erect they are, but you cannot do anything about it. Your arms are restrained with the leather of Yoongiâs belt digging into your flesh, and the slight pain intensifies the sparks of pleasure traveling up your body from down your cunt.
You squirm with a muffled whine, eyes burning with tears at how many times your already sensitive cunt was brought closer to a teeth clashing orgasm, only to have it denied by him. He'd raise his head to look up at you, his lips shiny with spit and your arousal, absolutely smug about how his tongue alone has you fucked up completely. His gloved hands would stroke the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, gently bringing them closer to your sensitive clitoris.
His thumb would gently circle around the protective skin covering your nub and you'd muffle a needy moan, unable to speak because you'd riled him up so bad, he had to shove your panties down your mouth with a growl and a promise that when he's done with you, you won't be even able to hobble well.
Fuck, you were shameless to admit that him being in charge and asking you each time whether the belt hurt you, or did you really like that, made your pussy gush out more and more for him to devour it all up.
His tongue flicks right on the top of your clit, and your back arches like the nth time off the table at how light headed the pleasure is making you feel. You feel like combusting , but also, not quite yet with how his touches are intense but gentle. You're now on the edge to burst out to the sea of such a delicious torture of blissâ and you'd do anything for him to do it for you.
You grind your hips right on his face as his tongue laps down your arousal, sucking gently on your soaked folds as you feel your thighs shake with the little leeway he gives you. His nose nudges your clit and you shiver. His nose bumps against your flesh again, he's doing it exactly on purpose to have you writhing underneath him.
His face is flushedâ hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and how dark his pupils are, you know that he's just as fucked as you are.
âThis cunt is,â a lick to your soaked folds, the wet muscle nudging them open to dive in further, âfucking divine.â and he fucks his tongue right in, the vibration of his voice quivering through your body.
With a broken whine, you try to gyrate your hips to chase the immense euphoria he's bringing you, feeling your walls clench around his wet muscle. He fucks his tongue in a vicious manner, curling it up to touch the tips of your walls and fucking it back out; all whilst the plane of his nose rubs against your poor, tender clit with each commotion.
His tongue stills after he feels you grind against his face with a rough fervor and your velvety walls pulsate around his tongue. You whine at the loss of momentum, already having your peak being snatched away from you, once again.
His lips suck around your nether ones for a last, long caress and then parts away ; licking up his lips coated in your arousal and his spit, some of which dribbles down his chin. He's quick to collect them all using his fingers and hover over your figure; some of his dainty chains are long enough to brush over your bare clavicles, dangling over you.
His black shirt sticks to his body and you can almost figure out the planes of his body. It's completely unfair, you being completely naked and him being completely clothed. He seems to like the way you wiggle your hips underneath him, looking up at him with eyes you think you weren't capable of batting much.
Because he smirks at your fucked up, desparate expression and pushes away the long, sweaty strands of raven falling from his head to the side with his clean hands, and brings his soiled fingers to your lips.
âTaste yourself,â his voice has a rasp and you comply, opening up, only to have him push two of his fingers inside your warm cavern, having your panties dragged out. The material of the smooth leather with the viscous arousal wrapped around his slender fingers sits heavy on your tastebuds, and you immediately swirl your tongue to savor it more.
He groans, and immediately withdraws his fingers, now clean. His breathing is erratic as he leans down to steal a quick kiss from you, and you whine when you feel him pull away. He says nothing, but just whispers words of praise in your ears, mindful of your restraints. Your arms feel numb to move by the time he gently unbuckles the belt around your wrist, and he catches you off guard once again when he pulls you into a kiss, his tongue sneaking in between your gasps and tangling with yours.
Your heart beats erratically in your chest when he parts away from you, resting his forehead against yours.
âGonna finger you now,â his voice is brisk with a pant at the end. His neck is flushed red, glistening with sweat with a slight pant. âPrincess deserves the best of the night. Not just some fondling.â
Your face feels warm as you catch onto what he's referring to.
Once again, you find yourself laying down with a throb in your cunt, and him kneeling in between your spread legs to pepper soft kisses on the now dried, slightly damp thighs. When his tongue flickers on the sensitive skin, you jolt and struggle to get up on your elbows, because as much as you're enjoying this, it's a torture that he did not allow you to come at all.
Your cunt pulses and aches for him, but he seems to take his sweet time; softly passing his hands to stroke your flesh and mark them.
When a singular finger strokes the length of your soaked slit, your mouth falls open in a gasp. The leather of his gloves add to the friction as he drags his fingers in an up and down motion, spreading your arousal around. Yoongi is so keen on observing your cunt closely, and there's a desire inside you to tuck away the long, stray strand of his hair back. You're already inching your hand forward when his dark eyes snap up to yours, stopping you in your moments.
You don't even have the time to withdraw your hands when a pair of strong arms curl on the underside of your thighs and pull you forward, licking a stripe right above where his fingers are nested; and in no time you feel the plane of his tongue attacking your poor nub with kitten licks.
âGod,â you gasp out loud, trashing your arms around to find any leverage as you fall flat on the table. Your fingers can only claw the edge of the table as his tongue passes over the slick of your skit with each lick, and the air is punched out of lungs the moment you feel two of his digits enter your slit with ease.
You feel his chuckle vibrate against you which goes straight to your clit. âNo God will hear you out, doll.â
Fuck. Fuck. You can only arch your back in a broken moan of his name when you feel his fingers move inside of you, not yet thrusting, but curling up. It burns a bit, but the heady bliss is already making your head spin with the added slight pain. He raises his head up to see how fucked you already look, and he knows that all the edging has brought you so close already that he can feel your tight walls tighten impossibly tight around his fingers.
He feels his cock twitch in his pants, begging for attention when he notices your slick trickling down the material of his glove, right in between the joints of his fingers as he stays still.
âM-move, you can move..â the end of your sentence ends up in a whine as his fingers curl forward in full force, immediately finding the spongy area which has lights bursting behind your eyelids. He soons picks up the pace, his fingers thrusting in and out your cunt in a swift motion which has you gasping for his name.
The soft jagged edges of his glove brushes the walls of your pussy with each pump, and you've never ever felt so good during fingering without any clitoris stimulation. You'd tried that a few times, only to have you grumbling because of your much smaller digits and a need to have something more. And he's right there. Yoongiâs fingers, much thicker and longer than your own ones, feel delirious inside you.
âYouâre so tight, princess,â Yoongi groans when he feels you tighten around him with each thrust, pushing you down to your impending orgasm with each pump, with each caress.
Your veins feel like they're on fire, your nipples aching to be touched, and so you do. Pulling them taut between your nimble fingers, your back bows off the table when Yoongi lunches down to close his pretty lips around your neglected clit. Oh fuck. . . ! That feels so fucking amazing, and you're sure you feel his fingers abuse that spot inside of you simultaneously, all while giving his attention to your burning flesh. You're so fucking close that you can taste your orgasm, and there's a slight rush thinking if he'd egde you this time too.
Your eyes shut close the moment his fingers go knuckles inside for a thrust and curls, and at once his lips suction around your clit, hard.
You're seeing Heaven.
You scream out when your orgasm washes over you, intensified with each you were denied off. Your back feels like it flew off the table as your orgasm dawn's down on you like an avalanche, sliding off all around your body in red hot euphoria as Yoongiâs speedy ministrations don't cease. You miss how audibly he moans out loud when a particular thrust inside your cunt has a gush of clear liquid squirting out, his mouth never leaving your now fully erect clit.
His tongue swirls around and sucks, while his fingers stroke the spot inside you. And this time when your hips gyrate up in full force to his face and he hears another scream of his name and a choking resistance to his fingers inside you, he knows that he's fulfilled his goal.
Your orgasm seems to hit you over and over, and over. Your abdominal muscles are dense by the time you feel yourself twitch with the aftershocks of your release, and dear fucking god. You've never come this hard in your life before, and you do know that the man between your legs is the reason.
You hoist yourself up to yourself up to your elbows to look at him who's half hovering over you, but oh god.
He's drenched.
His lower face glistens with moisture and his t-shirt looks like someone just shot him with a water gun, the damp material forming quite a big wet spot right below his collar. He's wide eyed, smirking with a breathy laugh which makes you want to curl up. Fucking hell. No wonder why your orgasm felt so blinding, and you can still feel his warm hands on your thighs, gently stroking your thighs with soft passes.
Oh god, you just squirted.
Yoongi made you squirt. Was that way too much? You don't even know! But for Yoongi, he's smiling as everything to him is riveting, of course.
You're about to hide your face in your palms when Yoongi stops you. His gloves felt damp on your skin, and when you peel your eyes open, he's so dangerously close. So close which makes your head spin and heart race, once again.
âThatâs what a real orgasm is, princess. Don't be ashamed.â He helps you get up the table, your legs feeling like fresh pudding and thighs burning. He can only snort in amusement, when you pout at him. What's so funny?
âIt was hot as fuck.â
âWhat?â face warm, you try to cover yourself to which Yoongi lazily raises a brow. He just points a finger to your parted legs. He. . .!
âYou. Squirting. It was hot as fuck. Plus the screams were like cherry on the top,â he shrugs, almost as if he didn't fucking wreck you with just his skilled tongue and fingers. Your face burns up at how casually he says that, and before you can think, you blurt out, âYou think so?â
âMm.â
It's your turn to raise a brow. You don't feel scared of him anymore, not even when the post nut clarity is hitting you. You know what you two did, and there's no going back. You feel rather at ease with how he holds one of your palms and slings an arm around your waist to haul you down the table, and you know that this is your chance.
You drop down to your knees.
And now it's him who's wide eyed. His clothed erection stands right in front of your face, almost as if struggling to get out of the hard confines of his jeans. The dent looks promising in size, and you nearly poke out your tongue to give it a lick, but you refrain. You hear him inhale a sharp breath, his hand already coming down to your shoulder to hoist you up, but you swat his hands away.
âWhat. . .what are you doing?â his voice comes out in a slightly surprised tone, the rasp of it already making you impatient. How could he not pay attention to himself when he's himself so fucking hard? Your hands slowly grab his meaty thighs over his denims which tense under your touch. You lick your lips, purposefully batting your eyelashes when you peer up at him, trying to look as small as you can.
Trying to make him as good as he made you feel, but you doubt your inexperienced ass could do that.
âCanât you see? Returning your favor.â
He looks torn. The crease in between his eyebrows tell that he's hesitant for this, and he doesn't like that bratty tone you'd just used. But the parted lips imparting short breaths tell otherwise. His reply comes rather quickly, âYou don't have to.â
You were sure to be hallucinating, but you could see a small twitch to his length, and you immediately felt your nether gates flooding. Oh god. You must return the favour, then.
âI want to, Yoongi, would you let me, please?â
Completely naked, batting eyelashes, pretty face and tempting view of boobs. Nimble fingers tracing the pathway of his thighs, dangerously close to his aching cock. He did want you, but. . . fuck. . ! And not to deny the image he gets of you kneeling down in front of him, your toes facing outwards and ass purposefully wiggling out, Yoongi knows he's about to bust a nut. And that too, very soon.
Who the fuck is he to deny, then.
âSince you begged for it,â his hands reach to tuck a stray hair out of your beautiful face, feeling his abdominal muscles clench when your fingers brush against his length, he smiles with a shaky exhale.
âGo ahead and take what's yours.â
a/n : soo~ what do we think? đ¤
â|â if you enjoyed reading, don't forget to drop a reblog and/or a feedback if you'd like to~ it helps a lot with reach and motivation! <33
â|â or iff not, don't forget to drop by my askbox through anonymous asks :D
#yoongi smut#yoongi fic#min yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#bts fluff#bts x you#bts x reader#bts x female reader#min yoongi smut#bts smut#bts fics#bts au#yoongi imagine#yoongi scenarios#bts imagines#bts scenarios
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Slide - The Series [Masterlist]
Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!ReaderÂ
Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?.
Type: Drabble Series
Summary:Â
"I can see the pain in your eyes I don't wanna say that I'm God, but I'll take you to heaven if you die"Â Â
Alternatively,Â
You would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timeline.
Warnings: extreme angst, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of depression, so much pining, unrequited love au, NSFW!!
Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics
Minors do not interact!!
Masterlist | Patreon (For early access)
A/N: here is the masterlist. the story is gonna to back to the past and then come back to the present. hence, I have classified it. Hope it makes things easy to understand. also, this is gonna be very fragmented. I will not go into detailing much - as in the details of their jobs, family and stuff like that. this story will mainly revolve around Yoongi and reader's feelings towards each other and their bad decisions. That's all. AND please tell me if I have missed anyone's name in the taglist despite being requested. thanks <3
Taglist requests are closed for now
One time for the present ~
1. Slide - The Beginning
You would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timeline.
2. Slide - The Ultimate Decision
Worst decisions are always driven by anger and alcohol; but sometimes those are also driven by Love.
3. Slide - The Other Side
No matter how much Yoongi had been trying to compile his focus and pour it all on Gyuri, his mind kept reeling back to you.
4. Slide - The Consequence
You are no different than the cigarette between his lips - half-burnt and waiting to be turned into ashes bit by bit with time.
5. Slide - The Dream
You have been so selfish and as a result - you get punished.
6. Slide - The Regret
For the first time in his 31 years of life - Min Yoongi is regretting. And the reason behind his regret circles around you.
7. Slide - The Trial
You have some questions and Yoongi has no answer.
8. Slide - The Vacation
Yoongi finally finds an answer to all of his questions.
9. Slide - The Realization
Yoongi dreams of you... dreams of a family with you.
10. Slide - The Reconciliation
âThere was never a time when I wasnât yours.â
11. Slide - The Finale
Tonight when he kisses you, itâs not a goodbye, rather itâs a promise of forever.
Two times for the past ~
1. Slide - The Prequel
You would never think twice before picking Yoongi up from streets even if it means losing your own sanity in return.
2. Slide - That Night
You would give yourself up willingly again and again if it means Yoongi will stay close to you. for whatever purpose.
Permanent Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi @savageyoongi @jwnghyuns @parapiop7 @futuristicenemychaos @purpleanchorcrown @armystay89
Requested Tags:
@ktownshizzle @ilys00ga @marihoneywk @yoongisoftface @sugaslittlekookies @joonwater @geminiml95 @ramicherie @wobblewobble822 @amarawayne @avawants2havefun @artemisdoe @jimintaemin @cuntessaiii
#bts angst#yoongi angst#suga angst#bts smut#yoongi smut#suga smut#bts x reader#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#bts x you#yoongi x you#suga x you#bts fanfiction#yoongi fanfic#yoongi scenarios#yoongi imagine#bts imagines#bts yoongi#bts suga#bts
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Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/Nâs insecurities, using them as weapons against her.
Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.
Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.
Pairing:Â Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi
Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi
Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT V
Word Count so far: 29.8k
Chapters: 4 / ?
Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers
A/N: Rollercoaster of sh*t.
ACT IV.
My head swam, but not from the alcohol this time. Of course, he owned the hottest spot in town. Why wouldnât he? It was soâŚÂ him. Dark, magnetic, and pulsing with an energy that felt alive.
I tilted my chin up, caught up by the warmth spreading in my chest. âYou couldâve led with that, you know. Saved me the shock.â My words came out more sassy than Iâd intended, but the moment they left my mouth, I realized I didnât care.
Yoongiâs smirk didnât falter. If anything, it sharpened. âAnd miss that reaction?â He shrugged. âNot a chance.â
Hoseok snorted beside me, nudging me playfully. âYouâre a natural at this, Y/N. Keep him on his toes.â
I ignored Hoseok, my eyes locked on Yoongiâs. âSo, whatâs the deal? You walk in here like some dark prince, surveying your kingdom, and then just⌠what? Decide to mingle with the common folk?â
That earned me a genuine chuckle. Low and rich, it sent a ripple through me that I wasnât prepared for. âIf I didnât know better,â he said, his tone almost teasing, âIâd think you were flirting.â
I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks burned. âIâm just calling it like I see it. Besides,â I gestured around, nearly knocking over an empty glass in the process, âyouâre the one interrupting our little party.â
Yoongi leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. âTrust me, Iâm not interrupting. Iâm improving it.â
That stupid smirk again. He was too smooth for his own good.
I crossed my arms, standing my groundâor at least trying to, given my slightly unsteady balance. âBold claim. Care to prove it?â
His gaze darkened, a spark of something unreadable flashing in his eyes. âCareful, Y/N. I donât make promises I canât keep.â
It was a challenge, plain and simple. And I was tipsy enough, bold enough, to take the bait.
Yoongiâs gaze lingered on me for a beat longer, the smirk on his lips softening into something dangerously close to intrigue, before he straightened up. âIâll leave you to your⌠festivities,â he said, his tone casual but his eyes still locked on mine. âDonât wander too far.â
And just like that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, his presence like a phantom that left behind a trail of chaos.
I let out a breath I hadnât realized I was holding, only to be jolted by the sound of Rya scooting closer. âWhat the hell was that?â she squeaked, her wide eyes darting between me and the direction Yoongi had gone.
Hoseok, ever the life of the party, burst into laughter, slapping his knee as if the entire exchange had been the highlight of his night. âOh, this is gold. Y/N, I donât know what youâre drinking, but you need to have it every time we go out. That was legendary.â
I flushed, suddenly feeling the heat of their stares more than Yoongiâs. âWhat are you talking about?â I asked, tryingâand failingâto sound nonchalant.
Rya gaped at me. âAre you kidding me? You were, like, full-on flirting with Min Yoongi. The Min Yoongi! Who owns this place! And he flirted back!â
âThat wasnât flirting,â I said quickly, though my voice wavered just enough to make my protest unconvincing.
âOh, please,â Rya shot back, recovering from her shock to grin at me like sheâd just uncovered a scandal. âHe was looking at you like you were the only person here. And donât think I didnât catch that little breathy moment you had when he leaned in.â
âI did too!â Hoseok chimed in, his laughter subsiding into a knowing grin. âYou might as well have swooned. It was like watching a scene from a K-drama.â
âI did not swoon!â I hissed, but my cheeks were betraying me, burning hotter by the second.
Rya leaned in, her teasing grin turning downright mischievous. âSo? Whatâs the plan? Are you going to play coy, or are you going to see where this goes?â
âThereâs no plan!â I groaned, covering my face with my hands. âItâs not like that.â
âRight,â Rya said, drawing out the word like she didnât believe me for a second. âAnd thatâs why youâre still blushing.â
âIâm notââ
âYou are,â Hoseok and Rya said in unison, and I groaned again, this time into my hands.
Rya gave my shoulder a playful nudge. âDonât worry, Y/N. Weâll make sure youâre ready for when Prince Yoongi decides to return for his damsel.â
âI hate you both,â I muttered, though I couldnât stop the small laugh that bubbled up despite myself.
Hoseok raised his glass. âTo Y/N, our fearless leader in the art of unexpected seduction!â
Rya clinked her glass against his with a giggle, and I shook my head, knowing there was no escaping their teasing tonight.
The night continued to spiral into a haze of drinks, laughter, and teasing. I couldnât quite remember how many cocktails Iâd had, but the warm, dizzying buzz was taking over. Hoseok kept encouraging me to try new drinks, and I, in my tipsy confidence, couldnât say no. At some point, I realized my tolerance was slipping, and I needed a break from the noise and chatter.
âAlright, Iâm calling it,â I muttered to Rya, who was currently nursing her own drink with that playful grin still plastered on her face. âI need a minute. Just a quick breather.â
âGood call,â she said, her tone teasing as always. âLet's go get some fresh air, princess.â
I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself as I pushed myself to my feet, a little unsteady but managing. The motion of the crowd around me made my head spin, and I began to make my way toward the back of the bar, where the balcony on the second floor awaited.
Rya followed without hesitation, catching up to me as I stumbled out onto the balcony, the cool night air hitting my face and doing little to clear the fog in my head. The balcony overlooked the main entrance, the buzzing energy of the bar below a stark contrast to the calmness of the night sky above.
I leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and for a moment, I almost felt like I could breathe again. Rya stood beside me, lighting up a cigarette. The first drag she took made me blink in surprise. I hadnât expected her to be a smoker.
âYou smoke?â I asked, my voice a little more slurred than Iâd intended.
She shrugged, the cigarette hanging between her fingers. âOnly when Iâm stressed or need to think. Never really felt like it until tonight.â She gave me a sidelong glance, a knowing smile pulling at her lips. âI think you mightâve had a little too much fun tonight.â
I laughed weakly. âMaybe,â I admitted, feeling the buzzing in my head intensify with each word I spoke.
We both stood there in silence for a moment, watching the cars passing by below. The cool breeze was refreshing, but my mind couldnât seem to quiet.
Rya took another drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling into the air. I could feel her eyes on me as the silence stretched on, but I didnât know what to say. It was strange, talking to someone who wasnât part of the world I used to know.
I leaned my elbows on the railing, staring down at the street, my thoughts swirling. âYou know, this is weird,â I started, trying to make sense of the jumble in my head. âIâve never been good at places like this. Clubs. Bars. I donât know⌠it just feels like everyoneâs always so... confident.â
Rya didnât say anything at first, just continued to smoke, as if waiting for me to go on. When I did, my words came out more in a rush, as if I couldnât stop them.
âI used to have this group of girls I called my friends. Weâd go out together, but it was never real, you know? Everyone was always smiling at each other, acting like everything was fine, but... behind the scenes, it was all about tearing each other down. I felt like I was invisible half of the time. They only kept me around to make themselves feel better because I was the fat one and they weren't. I just felt... useless.â
I sighed, feeling a bit foolish for spilling all of this out to someone I barely knew. Rya didnât seem surprised, though. She simply leaned against the railing beside me, flicking the ashes from her cigarette.
âSounds like they were garbage people,â she said bluntly, without a hint of hesitation.
I blinked at her. âYeah, well⌠I didn't know it at the time. I just kept thinking if I stayed, theyâd notice me, or that maybe I wasnât... that bad.â
âYouâre not alone in that,â Rya said quietly, her voice softer now. She paused before speaking again, looking out over the railing as if gathering her own thoughts. âI think a lot of people feel that way at some point. Like they donât belong, or like theyâre just filling space.â
I didnât know how to respond to that. It wasnât like I expected her to understand completely, but somehow, hearing it from her made me feel a little less crazy. A little less... alone.
âI guess thatâs why tonight feels different,â I said after a pause, the words coming out softer, more vulnerable than I meant them to. âFor the first time, a stranger actually... came up to me. Asked me to dance. No oneâs ever done that before, not like that. I donât know why, but... it feels like maybe Iâm not invisible, you know?â
Ryaâs gaze shifted to me then, her eyes softer than theyâd been a moment ago. She let the silence stretch for a beat before she smiled. It wasnât one of her teasing, playful grins. It was something more genuine.
âYouâre not invisible, Y/N. Maybe itâs just taking some time for you to see it too.â She took a last drag of her cigarette, letting out a long exhale before tossing it over the side of the balcony. âBut donât let it take too long. You deserve to feel like you matterâlike youâre seen.â
I felt a lump form in my throat, and for the first time in a long time, the words Iâd wanted to say but never had a chance to were finally coming to the surface.
âThanks,â I whispered, my voice barely audible. âReally.â
She just nodded, her face lighting up with a kind of warmth I wasnât used to, and I felt something shift inside me. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else entirely, but in that moment, with her standing beside me, the weight Iâd carried for so long felt just a little bit lighter.
We stayed there for a while longer, the cool breeze calming the storm in my chest, and I let myself simply... be.
-
Rya and I made our way back into the club, the heat and noise almost overwhelming after the cool air outside. We weaved through the crowd until we found Hoseok sitting in the same booth we had claimed earlier. He was still chatting with Yoongi, who I now realized had been there for a while. He must have arrived earlier while we were outside, though I hadnât noticed him.
I hadnât expected him to be the owner of this place. Whilst tipsier earlier, I had came to that realization earlier when he visited us and it surprised me more than I wanted to admit. He didnât look like the owner, or at least, not like any owner Iâd ever imagined. There was something about his sly like fox presence that made him seem more like a mysterious figure who didnât really want to be noticed.
As we approached, Hoseok greeted us with a bright grin. âAh, there you are! It took you long enough!â
âWe are here now,â I said, not quite ready to dive into anything more. My gaze flickered over to Yoongi, who was sitting back in his chair, relaxed but with his eyes fixed on me. I wasnât sure if he noticed me looking, but I couldnât shake the feeling that his presence was like a shadow hanging over everything.
âYou guys good?â Rya asked, taking her seat beside Hoseok as if nothing were unusual. I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. My glass was almost empty, so I motioned to the bartender for another drink, trying to focus on anything but the magnetic tension I felt from Yoongi.
Rya turned her attention to Hoseok, as usual, but I could feel Yoongiâs gaze on me like a weight. I was hyperaware of every step I took, every breath I made. His presence made my pulse quicken, but I couldnât give him the satisfaction of showing how much it affected me.
Hoseok, blissfully oblivious to the tension between me and Yoongi, kept up his cheerful banter. âI swear, every time I see you two, I get more and more worried about your liver,â he teased, nudging Rya playfully.
Rya laughed. âWeâre fine, Hoseok. Donât worry about us.â
I couldnât stop my mind from wandering back to Yoongi, and the more I thought about him, the more the atmosphere in the club felt charged. I had come here tonight for a fun distraction, not to get wrapped up in whatever unspoken connection existed between him and me. But there it wasâalways lingering in the background, impossible to ignore.
âY/N, youâre drunk,â Yoongi says, leaning back against the couch with that smug grin plastered across his face. His eyes glint with amusement, the kind that makes my already warm cheeks burn hotter.
âI am not drunk,â I declare, pointing a finger at him dramatically. Okay, so maybe my hand wobbles a littleâfine, a lotâbut still, Iâm holding my ground. âIâm just... delightfully loose. You, on the other hand, wouldnât know a good time if it hit you in the face.â
His smirk deepens. God, that smirk. âDelightfully loose? Is that what weâre calling this?â He gestures vaguely at me, and I glare at himâor at least I try to glare.
âYes, and youâre lucky to be in the presence of this level of charm,â I shoot back, crossing my arms. Itâs supposed to be dramatic, but I nearly knock over my drink, so the impact is somewhat lessened.
Yoongi just laughsâa rare, low chuckle that makes me want to both punch him and grin like an idiot. âYouâre a mess.â
I huff, sitting up straighter. âA delightful mess. Donât forget the important adjectives, Yoongi.â
He shakes his head, looking at me with that infuriating mix of amusement and fondness. âYouâre gonna regret this tomorrow.â
I scoff, tossing my hair over my shoulder like the dramatic queen I absolutely am tonight. âFuture me is tough as nails. She can handle it.â
âUh-huh,â he murmurs, leaning closer now, his face annoyingly smugâand annoyingly close. âYouâre fun when youâre drunk. Did I ever tell you that?â
âYouâre always fun when youâre around me,â I retort, narrowing my eyes at him. âWhich isnât often, by the way. Youâre too busy being sly as a fox.â
He raises a brow. âSly as a fox?â
âYes,â I say, leaning into my sass. âLike some sly fox lurking in the shadows, pretending to be all mysterious, but secretly just waiting for someone to feed your ego.â
That laugh againâsoft, deep, and way too satisfying to hear. âYouâve got quite the imagination.â
âAnd youâve got quite the ego,â I quip, smirking triumphantly. But before I can revel in my win, Yoongi shifts closer, the warmth of his presence suddenly tangible. My breath catches, and I hate how I feel my sass faltering under his gaze.
âYouâre impossible,â he whispers, his voice quieter now, like the momentâs shifted without me realizing it.
âImpossibly charming,â I manage, my voice smaller than Iâd like, my cheeks heating up even more.
From the corner of my eye, I see Rya grinning like a Cheshire cat, her phone raised. âOh my God, you two, stay just like that.â
âWhat? NoâRya!â I protest, my voice going high-pitched and ridiculous, but before I can move, thereâs the telltale click of her camera.
Yoongi doesnât even flinch. In fact, he chuckles, the sound so soft and close it sends a shiver down my spine. âLet her keep it,â he says, looking at me like heâs amused by my flustered state.
âBut sheâs going to use it against me!â I protest, trying to reach for her phone.
âDonât worry,â Rya says, laughing as she holds the phone out of reach. âThis oneâs for memory purposes. Youâll thank me later.â
âRyaaa!â I groan, but before I can fight back properly, Yoongiâs hand gently catches my wrist.
âSeriously,â he says, his tone low, almost... fond? âLet her keep it. Might be worth remembering tonight.â
I blink, caught completely off-guard by the softness in his voice. His dark eyes meet mine, and suddenly my mindâs gone blank. All the witty comebacks I had lined up? Gone. Just like that.
âIâyeah,â I mumble, the words slipping out before I can think. âMaybe it is.â
For a moment, the world seems to shrink around us, his face close enough that I can see the faintest crinkle at the corner of his eyes.
And in the background, Rya? Sheâs probably grinning like an idiot because she just captured something that wasnât meant to be caught.
I finally snapped myself out of the haze and glanced at Rya. âLetâs go dance,â I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Her eyes lit up. âNow youâre speaking my language!â she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the dance floor. I followed her eagerly, trying to push Yoongi from my mind as we joined the crowd.
As the music thumped in my chest, the mood shifted, and I started to let go. The music was slow, sensual, and I found myself following Ryaâs lead, moving with her in time with the rhythm. I wasnât focused on anyone else in the roomâjust the music, just the beat, just the moment.
But then I felt it again. That familiar, heavy weight of someoneâs gaze on me. I looked up and met Yoongiâs eyes across the room. He was watching us. Watching me.
My heart skipped a beat. He didnât look away this time. His gaze was piercing, intense. And something about the way he looked at meâlike he saw right through the act I was putting onâhad my chest tightening. The air felt thick, charged with something unspoken, and I felt exposed, like the whole world could see my vulnerability.
Rya must have noticed my shift in energy, because she leaned closer, her lips curling into a sly smile. âYou know heâs still watching, right?â
I swallowed, trying to shake off the nervous feeling rising in my chest. âI know,â I muttered, though I was anything but casual about it. Every part of me wanted to pull away, but I couldnât stop myself from being drawn to him.
Rya gave me a knowing look. âIf you keep looking at him like that, youâre gonna end up in trouble.â Her words made me feel even more exposed, but she didnât stop grinning.
I turned my attention back to the music, trying to lose myself in the rhythm again. But as much as I tried to ignore it, I could still feel Yoongiâs gaze on me, lingering like a weight on my shoulders. The heat from his eyes made everything feel heavier, more intense. It was as if the music wasnât enough to drown out the way he was looking at me, the magnetic pull between us too strong to ignore.
As the night wore on and the effects of the alcohol finally began to hit me full force, my limbs felt heavy, my steps wobbly. Rya and Hoseok had been keeping an eye on me, and it wasnât long before Rya grabbed my arm with a concerned look.
âAlright, party girl,â she said, her voice firm but affectionate. âYouâve had your fun, but itâs time to call it a night.â
Hoseok appeared beside her, nodding. âYep. Before you start serenading the entire club with your âdelightfully looseâ energy.â
I groaned, my head lolling against Ryaâs shoulder. âI was having fun,â I mumbled, but I didnât resist as they guided me toward the exit. The cool air hit me like a wave as we stepped outside, clearing my head just enough to realize how far gone I was.
âLetâs get her home,â Rya said to Hoseok, who fished out his phone, probably to call a cab.
Before he could, however, the door behind us opened, and Yoongi stepped out into the night. His expression was unreadable as his gaze landed on usâor maybe just on me. âYou leaving already?â he asked, his tone casual, but there was something in his voice that made me shiver.
Rya crossed her arms, immediately on guard. âYeah. Sheâs had enough for one night.â
Yoongiâs eyes flicked to me, and I couldnât decipher the look in them. âIâll take you all home,â he offered, his voice calm but firm. âItâs late. Safer that way.â
Rya and Hoseok exchanged a skeptical glance. âI donât knowâŚâ Rya started, clearly not thrilled about the idea of leaving me in his care.
Yoongi smirked slightly, his confidence frustratingly unwavering. âRelax. Iâm not going to do anything. Iâll drop you both off first. Sheâll be fine.â
âWill she?â Rya challenged, her sharp eyes narrowing.
âRya,â Hoseok interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. âItâs late. Heâs sober, and weâre all here. Itâs probably better than waiting for a cab.â
Rya hesitated but finally relented with a sigh. âFine,â she muttered, shooting Yoongi a pointed glare. âBut if you try anythingââ
He held up his hands in mock surrender, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. âScoutâs honor.â
With some reluctance, we all piled into Yoongiâs car. Hoseok and Rya sat in the back, with me in the passenger seat, my head leaning heavily against the window as the cool glass soothed my overheated skin. The drive was quiet at first, the hum of the engine almost lulling me to sleep.
Yoongi dropped Hoseok off first, who gave him a wary but grateful nod. Then it was Ryaâs turn. Before she got out, she leaned over the seat, glaring at Yoongi. âIâm trusting you with her,â she said, her tone deadly serious. âKeep your hands to yourself.â
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, amused. âYouâre awfully protective.â
âSheâs my best friend,â Rya shot back, her voice firm. âAnd Iâll hunt you down if you try anything.â
Yoongi chuckled, the sound low and infuriatingly confident. âNoted.â
Rya turned to me, squeezing my hand. âText me when youâre home, okay?â
I nodded, too tired to do more than mumble, âI will.â
Once Rya was gone, the silence in the car felt heavier. I shifted slightly in my seat, sneaking a glance at Yoongi. He was focused on the road, his expression unreadable, but the air between us was charged, thick with unspoken tension.
âYou donât have to take me home,â I mumbled, my voice softer now. âI couldâve taken a cab.â
âI know,â he said simply, not looking at me. âBut I wanted to.â
Something about his tone made my heart skip a beat. I turned my gaze back to the window, watching the city lights blur past, but I couldnât shake the awareness of him beside me.
âYouâre quiet,â he said after a moment, his voice breaking the silence.
âJust tired,â I replied, though it wasnât the full truth. My thoughts were racing, filled with the way he looked at me earlier, the way he always seemed to carry himself with that infuriating mix of arrogance and mystery.
âYouâre not as tough as you act, you know,â he said, his voice softer now, almost contemplative.
I turned to look at him, frowning. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
He glanced at me, a hint of a smirk on his lips. âJust an observation.â
I huffed, crossing my arms. âYou donât know me well enough to make observations.â
âMaybe not,â he admitted, his tone annoyingly calm. âBut I think Iâm starting to.â
The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, I didnât know how to respond. My pulse quickened, and I hated how easily he got under my skin.
When we finally pulled up in front of my apartment, he parked the car and turned to me, his gaze steady. âGo inside. Text your friend like you promised.â
I nodded, fumbling with the door handle, but before I could get out, he spoke again.
âAnd Y/N?â
I paused, looking back at him.
He leaned slightly closer, his voice low. âYouâre fun when youâre drunk. But youâre even more fun when youâre just you.â
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and for once, I had no witty comeback. Instead, I mumbled a quick goodnight and practically bolted out of the car, my heart racing as I fumbled for my keys.
As I stepped inside my apartment, I couldnât help but glance out the window. His car was still there, idling for a moment before finally pulling away. And even as I closed the door behind me, my mind was still spinning, the memory of his wordsâand that look in his eyesâseared into my thoughts.
-
The next morning, I felt like death warmed over. My head throbbed with a relentless rhythm, and the sunlight streaming through the curtains made my eyes squeeze shut in protest. I groaned, rolling onto my side.
âUgh... Hades,â I mumbled, squinting toward the edge of the bed. Sure enough, my little fluff ball of a dog was perched on his usual spot near my feet, his dark eyes fixed on me, ears perked in expectation. His tiny tail wagged as soon as I stirred.
âI know, I know,â I muttered, pushing myself up with far more effort than it shouldâve taken. My mouth was dry, my muscles heavy, and my thoughts even heavier. âBreakfast first. Then I can hate myself for last night.â
Hades hopped off the bed and trotted ahead of me, his soft white fur bouncing with each step. By the time I reached the kitchen, he was already circling his food bowl, giving me a look that said, Hurry up, human.
I chuckled weakly, filling his dish and setting it down. âThere. Happy?â I watched as he dove in, his tail wagging like Iâd just given him the world. At least one of us was having a good morning.
While Hades busied himself with his food, I stumbled into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The hot water did its best to melt away my hangover, but the memories of last night refused to wash away so easily.
By the time I made it back to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee, my nerves were already fraying. With Hades trailing close behind, I shuffled out onto the balcony, cradling my mug like it was my last lifeline.
The crisp morning air helped a little, enough to jolt me out of the lingering haze of sleep. Hades curled up near my feet, his fluffy coat glowing in the soft sunlight as he rested his head on his paws.
I leaned back in my chair, taking a slow sip of coffee. For a moment, I let the stillness of the morning lull me, the warmth of the mug grounding me. But it didnât last long.
Like an unwelcome tide, the memories from last night started flooding back.
The club. The drinks. The banter with Yoongi. My stomach twisted as flashes of my drunken antics resurfacedâthe sass, the dramatic finger-pointing, the teasing.
âWhat the hell was I thinking?â I muttered, covering my face with one hand. Hades perked up slightly at the sound of my voice but settled back down when he realized I wasnât going anywhere.
The memory of Yoongiâs smirk, his low chuckle, the way heâd looked at meâall of it came rushing back, vivid and unrelenting. My cheeks burned as I remembered calling him a sly fox and declaring myself a âdelightful mess.â The mortification was almost enough to make me curl up into a ball and stay there forever.
But what really made my chest tighten was the car ride home. His words, his gaze, the way heâd said, âYouâre even more fun when youâre just you.â
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. Why couldnât I just forget about it? Why did that moment, of all things, have to stick with me?
The insecurities hit like a freight train, each one louder than the last. Did I look foolish to him? Did I come off as desperate? What if Iâd ruined everythingâwhatever this was?
Hades shifted at my feet, letting out a soft whine, and I reached down to scratch behind his ears, needing the comfort. âItâs fine,â I told him softly, more to myself than to him. âItâs not like heâs going to bring it up. Right?â
Hades yawned, clearly uninterested in my crisis, and rested his head again. I let out a shaky sigh, sipping my coffee and staring out at the city.
I had no idea how to face him again. But no matter how much I panicked, I couldnât stop replaying his words in my head, over and over again.
âYouâre even more fun when youâre just you.â
Why did that have to be the part I remembered most?
I swirled the mug absently, staring at the skyline but not really seeing it. The memory of Yoongiâs smirk lingered in my mind, sharp and clear. The way his eyes had glinted with something unreadable, something that made me feel... seen, but not in a way I could understand.
And what if it was all just a game?
My stomach twisted violently at the thought, the unease clawing its way up my throat. What if Yoongi had just been toying with me? Testing how far he could push me before I broke? It wouldnât be the first time someone had done that, the memory of teenage taunts and cruel laughter surfacing like ghosts I thought Iâd buried.
What if he wanted to see if the fat girl would fall for his charms?
I felt sick. I set the mug down with shaky hands, clutching the edge of the table as if it could anchor me. My cheeks burned, but this time it wasnât embarrassmentâit was anger. Anger at myself for letting him get to me, for letting my guard down, for letting his words and his smile burrow under my skin like they had any right to be there.
Fucking hell, Y/N. Why did you let this happen?
I buried my face in my hands, the sharp edge of panic building in my chest. What if he laughed about it later? What if this was nothing but some joke to him? A story to share with Jungkook tomorrow at work?
Oh, God.
Was he going to mock me?
I could already picture it: Yoongi leaning back in his chair, smirking as he recounted the night to Jungkook. Talking about how easy it was to get a reaction out of me, how Iâd blushed, how Iâd been drunk enough to practically fall into his lap.
My breathing hitched, anxiety tightening its grip on me like a vise. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to will the spiral to stop, but it didnât. The thoughts came faster, louder, each one worse than the last.
What if tomorrow at work he made some sly comment, dropping hints that only I would catch, smirking when I squirmed under the weight of it? What if Jungkook looked at me differently, pitying me for falling for Yoongiâs charms? What ifâwhat ifâ
âStop it,â I whispered harshly to myself, my voice trembling.
But the damage was done. The doubts had sunk their claws into me, and no matter how much I tried to shove them down, they lingered, festering like an open wound.
Hades whined softly at my feet, nudging my leg with his nose. I looked down at him, my chest tightening further. His dark eyes stared up at me, his tiny head tilted, as if asking, Why are you upset?
I reached down, stroking his soft fur with trembling hands. âIâm fine,â I murmured, though the words felt like a lie.
But I wasnât fine.
I was panicking, spiraling, drowning in a tide of insecurities that felt too heavy to swim against. And no matter how hard I tried to push the memories of last night away, they clung to me, stubborn and sharp, refusing to let me forget just how vulnerable Iâd been.
And how foolish Iâd been to let myself believe, even for a second, that Yoongi might have meant any of it.
-
The Monday morning commute was a nightmare. Traffic was a mess, and I could feel the anxiety building with each minute I was stuck in place. My stomach twisted in knots, and by the time I made it to the office, I was already on edge. The weekend had been long and uncomfortable, and I was not in the mood to face everyoneâespecially Yoongi.
As soon as I stepped through the door of the office, I immediately felt the weight of all those eyes. The hum of the usual office chatter felt deafening.
I kept my head down as I walked toward my desk, hoping I could just blend into the sea of busy workers. I didnât need anyone noticing me today. I didnât need anyone talking to me.
I quickly sank into my chair and buried myself behind my computer, praying that I could get through the day without any awkward interactions. The worst part was that I could feel itâthe tension in the air, thick and unspoken. The what ifs from the weekend were still swirling in my mind, and the fear of being the subject of office gossip made it hard to focus on anything else.
Just when I thought I might finally be safe, I heard the unmistakable sound of Ryaâs footsteps approaching. My heart dropped into my stomach.
âY/N,â she said, her tone already heavy with something I didnât want to hear. âWe need to talk.â
I looked up, already feeling a rush of dread. âWhatâs going on?â
Ryaâs eyes were filled with concern, and there was something else, tooâsomething I couldnât quite place. She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. âThe picture of you and Yoongi⌠the one I took that night⌠itâs been uploaded to the company website.â
My blood ran cold. I could feel my face drain of color as I scrambled to process what she was saying. âWhat?!â I hissed, glancing around the office. Sure enough, a few people were looking in our direction, whispering to one another. I wanted to shrink into my chair, but it felt like all eyes were on me.
âWhat do you mean it was uploaded?â I felt the panic rising in my chest.Â
Rya sighed, crossing her arms. âI donât know. It just appeared there. Some anonymous source uploaded it, and now⌠well, people are talking.â
I stood up so quickly that my chair nearly tipped over. My hands were shaking as I scanned the room, my eyes darting from one person to the next. I could feel the heat in my cheeks as the realization hit me: someone had posted the picture of Yoongi and me, and now it was out in the open for everyone to see.
âDid you do it?â I asked, my voice rising. Ryaâs eyes widened, and she immediately shook her head.
âY/N, no! I swear to you, I didnât do it!â she protested. âHoseok didnât either. Weâd neverââ
I couldnât stop the surge of frustration. I knew I wasnât going crazy, but there was only one person who had been there with us, who could potentially have access to the photo. âThen who else was there, Rya?â I spat, my hands clenched into fists.
She blinked in surprise at the sudden heat in my voice, but I could see her starting to piece things together. âWait⌠you donât think⌠Yoongi, right?â
The truth hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the only explanation that made sense. He had been there, and he was the one with the power to upload it. I felt my blood boil. Of course it was him.
I stormed down the hallway, my steps growing faster as I approached the balcony. I knew exactly where to find himâYoongi was always there, cigarette in hand, leaning against the railing, as if the world outside could fix whatever thoughts were swirling in his head. But when I threw open the door, I wasnât prepared for what I saw.
Jungkook was standing there, his hand gripping Yoongiâs collar, his face tight with anger. My heart sank, and for a split second, I didnât even know how to react.
âJungkook, what the hellââ I snapped, my voice sharp with confusion and frustration.
He turned to face me, his expression a mix of upset and disbelief. "Youâ" he started, cutting off mid-sentence, his gaze flicking to Yoongi, still holding him by the collar. "This picture, Y/N. You donât get it. Itâs going to ruin the companyâs image!"
I could feel my pulse quicken, anger boiling in my veins. I hadnât even had a chance to process what was happening before Yoongi spoke up, his voice low and mocking, as always.
"Relax," he drawled, taking a long drag from his cigarette. âI did not upload it. Not like you had much to worry about, though. The way you looked that night... You sure your friends are as real as they seem?â
His words hit like a slap, each syllable laced with venom, and I could feel my stomach churn in disbelief. The nerve of him, mocking me like thisâmocking everything Iâd been through. The image, my friends, all of it.
I was so angry, I couldnât even speak. Instead, I just stared at him, every part of me wanting to explode. How dare he act like I was the one causing problems when he was the one toying with my life?
The sting of Yoongiâs words hit harder than I ever expected. It was like a punch to the gut, and I could feel every bit of my frustration and hurt boiling over. How could he say something like that? How could he act so differently now?
It felt like all the walls I had put up around myself were crashing down. I had trusted him. I had thought maybe, just maybe, there was something real between us. But nowânow he was just mocking me, belittling me, throwing all of my emotions in my face like they meant nothing.
Before I could even think, my hand was moving, slapping him across the face with all the force I could muster. His head snapped to the side, but the cold expression didnât falter. And then, without thinking again, I shoved him hardâhis cigarette flying from his hand as he stumbled back.
âGo to Hell.â I choked out, my voice trembling with rage and hurt.Â
Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned and stormed off the balcony, my chest tight and tears already starting to blur my vision. I couldnât hold them back. They burned, hot and relentless, as I ran down the hall to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide.
I ended up in a bathroom, locking the door behind me. My legs gave way, and I collapsed onto the cold tiles, sobbing uncontrollably. I didnât care anymore. Nothing mattered. My entire body shook with the weight of itâthe betrayal, the pain, the confusion. Why did he have to hurt me like this? Why did he have to make me feel so small?
I spent what felt like hours on the bathroom floor, crying until my throat ached and my eyes burned. My makeup was ruined, my emotions shredded, and I couldnât even think straight.
Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, I managed to pull myself together enough to stand and wipe my face. I wasnât ready to face anyone, but I knew I had to. I took a deep breath, wiped away the last of the tears, and stepped out of the bathroom.
As soon as I did, I froze. Rya was standing there, her posture tense, her eyes full of regret. My heart sank.
"Y/N, wait," she began softly, stepping closer. "Iâ"
âWhat do you want, Rya?â I cut her off, my voice hoarse from crying. I wasnât sure I could handle another person adding to my mess right now.
âI need to explain," she said, looking like she was about to cry too. "It was me. IâI sent the picture to Hoseok, and Hoseok... he sent it to his co-worker."
I felt the room spin, the anger and confusion flooding back all at once. "You did what?" I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.
She nodded, her eyes full of guilt. "Iâm so sorry, Y/N. I didnât think it would get out like this. It was a stupid mistake. I shouldâve never sent it. Please, just... please understand. I never meant for any of this to happen."
The words didnât feel real. I just stood there, my mind racing, my heart sinking deeper into my chest. So much had been messed up already. So much had been done, and now... now it was all just crashing down around me.
I didnât want to hear it. Didnât want to hear Rya's apologies or explanations. I couldnât. It was too much, and right now, I just needed to be alone. The last thing I wanted was to stand there and listen to her make excuses for what sheâd done. So, without another word, I turned and walked away from her, heading straight for my desk.
My steps were heavy, each one feeling like a punishment as I walked through the hallway. I didnât care who saw me, didnât care about the mess I was. I just wanted to go back to my desk, to find some semblance of control in the chaos.
As soon as I reached my cubicle, I collapsed into my chair, my hands gripping the edge of the desk as I tried to steady my breathing. I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. My heart still ached from Yoongi's words, and now, the fallout from Ryaâs actions, the picture⌠It was all just too much.
But the relief of sitting at my desk didnât last long.
Tinaâs voice cut through the air, sharp and mocking as she approached me. "Well, well, look whoâs back," she sneered. âHad a nice little breakdown, huh? That photo was a real treat. Itâs almost cute how hard you tried to pretend you had it together.â
I didnât even look up at her. I couldnât stomach the idea of interacting with someone like her right now.
But Tina wasnât done. She moved closer, her voice dripping with venom. "You know, Y/N," she said, her tone laced with cruelty, "I donât know why you even bother. People like you? Youâre never going to be loved. A fatty like you will always just be a joke."
The words hit me like ice water, cold and suffocating. I could feel my stomach drop, my chest tightening with the sting of her words. Every single insult she hurled felt like it was carving into my skin, one cruel word after another.
"People like me?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, unable to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. "What does that even mean?"
Tina chuckled, a sound so bitter it made my skin crawl. "It means exactly what I said. Youâre never going to fit in, Y/N. Not with your body, not with your face, not with any of it. No oneâs going to look at you the way they look at someone who actually matters."
I felt every word sink deeper into me, like poison that was seeping into my soul. I couldnât even breathe. The thought of her judging me, of everyone judging me, it was too much.
I felt myself shaking, not from anger, but from the hurt that felt too heavy to carry. It wasnât just her words. It wasnât just Tina or anyone else. It was everythingâthe picture, Yoongiâs mockery, Ryaâs betrayalâand now this, this new low I hadnât even anticipated.
My hands clenched into fists, but even that wasnât enough to stop the tears from spilling over. Tina had done itâsheâd finally broken me.
I was still sitting there, trying to gather myself, my hands trembling as I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. I could feel Tinaâs eyes on me, her cruel words still ringing in my head like a broken record. I was trying so hard to keep it together, to not break completely, but every attempt felt futile.
Then, suddenly, I heard itâJungkook's voice, sharper than Iâd ever heard before.
"Thatâs enough," he snapped, his tone unlike anything I had ever heard from him. I looked up in surprise, my mind trying to process what was happening. His eyes were fierce, his jaw clenched as he stepped between me and Tina, standing protectively in front of me.
Tina scoffed, but there was a hesitant look in her eyes, as though she hadnât expected Jungkook to speak up like that. "What, are you going to play the hero now after you were mocking her too?" she sneered, but her words lacked conviction.
"One word," Jungkook shot back, his voice like ice. "One word and you will get dismissed effective immediately."
He stood tall, unwavering, until Tina finally huffed and walked away, clearly unwilling to challenge him further. As she turned on her heel, I could hear her mutter something under her breath, but I didnât care. All I could focus on was Jungkook now.
He turned to me, his face softening a bit, though there was still a tightness in his expression. He knelt down in front of me, his presence oddly comforting despite everything I had been through today.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, but his concern was evident.
I shook my head, unable to find the words. There was too much going on inside my head, too much hurt and betrayal. I couldnât trust anyone right nowânot Tina, not even Rya or Yoongi. I couldnât tell him that though. "Come to my office," he had whispered and before I could reply, my feet were dragging me there, following behind. He made sure to close the door as I sat on the soft cushioned sofa near his desk.
He didn't say anything nor pushed further. Instead, he walked to the side, pouring a glass of water and took out his handkerchief laying in one of his pockets. He returned and placed them in front of me, his movements careful, like he was trying to give me space but still offer some kind of comfort.
I glanced at the glass of water and the handkerchief. oddly enough I noticed red /JK/ initials on it. Funny.
I knew he was trying to help, but part of me didnât know how to accept it. I didnât know how to accept help from anyone right now. Everyone seemed so fake, so full of hidden motives, and I felt like I was surrounded by nothing but lies.
"Take it easy," Jungkook said, his voice calm and gentle. "You donât have to stay here. If you need some time, take the day off. Go home. Just⌠take care of yourself, alright?"
I looked up at him, feeling a mix of emotionsâgratitude, suspicion, confusion. It was hard to trust anyone at this point, especially when I had been betrayed so many times today. I didnât know if I could leave, if I could just walk away from all of this, but⌠it did sound like the right thing to do.
"You donât have to figure it out all at once.." he answered, noticing the pain in my eyes.
He took a step back, allowing me the space to make my own decision. He didnât push, just stood there quietly, waiting for me to come to my own conclusion.
I could feel the tears starting to well up again, but I didnât want to break down in front of him. I needed to pull myself together.
I nodded slowly, still uncertain, but willing to listen for my own sake. "Okay. Iâll go home."
I let out a shaky breath, picking up the glass of water as my hands trembled. For the first time today, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I wasnât completely alone. But even then, there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, telling me to be careful.
Trusting anyone right now seemed impossible.
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Limbo
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: You and Yoongi have been friends for over a year, but when Yoongi realizes that his feelings for you might be something more, he pulls away, fearing the pains of the past will repeat themselves. You just want to give him the love he deserves; can he accept it, or will he hide away from you?
Word Count: 3.5k(whoops lol)
Warnings: 18+ mdni, angst, mutual pining, mentions of drinking, swearing, mentions of bad/toxic past relationships, eventual smut at the end, handjob, subby Yoongi bc I said so, not proofread
A/N: I got several requests while I was gone wanting some angst to fluff/smut with Yoongi, so I kinda combined them all into this mess hehe. It def got away from me, but I hope you'll all enjoy it!
Masterlist
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Itâs strange how little things that seem almost insignificant at first glance, take on so much more meaning to us than we ever expect them to. Songs on the radio, a specific perfume or food, random little trinkets that can be found in almost any gift shop. Like the keychain that Yoongi fiddled with absentmindedly as he rode the elevator up to his friend Hee-junâs apartment.
The tiny bear figure was nothing particularly remarkable on its own, but it had come to hold a certain sense of peace for Yoongi whenever he held onto it, like his own little good luck charm, something to help keep him centered when he was feeling overwhelmed, much like now as he stepped into his friends crowded apartment.
He quickly found his usual place, tucked safely into the corner of the sofa, steering clear of the noise and chaos of the main group as they talked and drank.
His friend was always encouraging him to come over for his weekend hangouts, insisting to Yoongi that all the energy and music would help clear his head and give him inspiration for work. Yoongi wasnât particularly in the mood for this much noise and stimuli though. Heâd spent the better part of the past week holed up in his studio working several new songs, though his results had been underwhelming by his standards. He was tired and had half a mind to just slip back out the door and go home without saying anything.
His mood however perked up instantly as he caught sight of a familiar figure slipping through the front door, his eyes following you as you grabbed a drink and glanced about the room, your face breaking into a huge grin as you spotted him watching you.
âI thought you said you werenât coming this week?â You asked, taking the empty seat next to him. âWhat happened to âIâm too busy being a musical geniusâ or whatever?â
âI was persuaded otherwise.â He replied dryly, ignoring your growing amused grin.
âIâm glad.â You said.
âDidnât say it was you, Iâm just here to get back the whiskey that Hee-Jun owes me, one glass at a time.â He responded, tipping back the last of his drink as he spoke, making you laugh.
âWhatever you say, bro.â You relented.
âYah! Iâve told you not to call me bro.â He complained.
The two of you fell into your usual routine of conversation and bickering, much the same as every other night you had spent together since youâd first met over a year ago, when Hee-jun had invited you to a group dinner and introduced you to everyone.
Yoongi had found himself instantly charmed by you, your friendly but sarcastic attitude matching his perfectly. He had spent the majority of that first night talking eagerly with you, much to the surprise of the others, not used to seeing this side of Yoongi.
Your friendship had quickly grown after that. He had found himself completely drawn in by you, finding it remarkably easy to talk with you and wanting to learn every little thing about you. Yoongiâs friends loved to tease him about his being whipped for you, pointing out things like how he always claimed that he was too busy to hang out with them, but he somehow always managed to make time for you, but he didnât pay them much mind. He was happy around you, really truly happy. He felt safe and comfortable with you, which was something that didnât come very easy for Yoongi.
There were times though, usually on late nights when you were still hanging out long after one of you shouldâve gone home, when he would wonder if there was some truth to his friendâs jokes, feeling a faint but insistent twinge in his chest, as if something were struggling for freedom, but he quelled it down, passing it off as just a passing thought, a flicker of something that didnât really mean anything⌠Right?
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of drinks and talking to you and his friends over the too loud music until late. He was in the middle of a discussion with one of the members when he felt a sudden weight against his shoulder.
Glancing down, he was met with your sleeping figure, your face nuzzled against the material of his jacket,Â
All at once, that twisting feeling in his chest had returned, far more pronounced and forceful than usual, his heart stuttering like the moments before the drop on a rollercoaster. His mind went blank as he stared down at you, a familiar warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his system.
Fuck, he loved you.
He loved you, with your dumb jokes and peach flavored lip balm, your terrible playlists and your quiet little hums when you're nervous, and the way you hid behind your hands when you laughed. He loved every little thing about you and he suddenly canât breathe as he stared down at your sleeping form, taking in how perfectly you fit against his side. He stayed there for a while, not quite sure what to do now.
âY/n?â He whispered.
âMhm.â You stirred, shifting closer, but not fully surfacing from sleep.
He was quiet for a second, mind whirring as he tried to decide what action he should take.
He could just tell you, nudge you again gently till you woke properly, blinking up at him all drowsy and confused and utterly adorable.
âI think⌠I love you.â The words were simple enough in theory, mumbled out as his dark eyes bore into your own, begging for this to not be a mistake.
For a moment you didnât move, staring as if unsure of what youâd heard, before suddenly pushing yourself up, seeking out his lips.
He wrapped his arms around you, savoring the taste of you as he pulled you closer, letting out a soft groan as your hands found their way into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp and raising goosebumps over his whole body-
The sound of glass breaking in the kitchen behind the two of you shattered the moment, ripping Yoongi roughly from his daydream.
âYah, you see?! This is why I donât let you help!â Jin scolded loudly.
âIt wasnât my fault!â Joon snapped back, equally loud.
âHow was that not-?!â
The chaos from the kitchen had pulled you from sleep, sitting up quickly and blinking around in confusion and concern.
âWhat happened?â You asked groggily, shaking off the last hints of sleep.
âItâs just the guys being dumb-asses, donât worry.â He assured you, but he shifted away subtly, a strange sense of relief flooding his system.
Mumbling out a faint excuse, he ducked down the hall to the bathroom, catching sight of his expression in the mirror as he splashed some water on his face in an attempt to clear his head.Â
His cheeks were flushed a deep rosy hue, his eyes slightly too big, pupils blown wide.
What the fuck was wrong with him?! He couldnât do this, he couldnât say those things to you. Heâd fallen down that hole before, letting his feelings get the better of him confessing, only to be viciously rejected. Or worse yet, having his feelings falsely returned, and ending up with his heart twisted into something he didnât even recognize for the other person's benefit and pleasure, leaving him to pick up the warped pieces when they had used him up.
He couldnât let that happen with you, he couldnât risk ruining one of the best friendships heâs had in years over some stupid infatuation.
Taking care not to be noticed, he silently slipped out the door and made his way home, sending a half-assed text to you and his other friends about not feeling well before turning his phone off and flopping onto his bed.
He would fix this, he promised to himself, he just needed to give his little crush some time to run its course and get out of his system, like a cold or the flu. In the meantime, he decided it would be best to put some space between the two of you, try and wean himself off the dependency that he had developed with you. It wasnât good for him to âneedâ someone as much as he did you, it would only lead to regret if he wasnât careful.
He could do this, he tried to convince himself. He could correct these feelings and go back to how your friendship was before.
He had to.
For the next few weeks, he did his best to avoid you without being too obvious, claiming things like busy schedules as why he was suddenly never around.
He tried to convince himself that this was necessary and the better of two options, but the full truth was that he was miserable.
He hadnât realized just how much you had been seeped into his day to day life until he tried to go without you. There were no silly texts convos to keep his spirits up during the day, his evenings dull and quiet, no warm laughter or teasing jokes to pull a smile out of him, no encouraging touches on his hand when he was feeling frustrated or random little backhugs that brought more peace and comfort than he ever thought was possible.
He knew he could easily remedy the situation and just face his feelings and talk to you, but the ghosts of his past kept creeping up on him, whispering in his ear that he would ruin everything if he dared open himself like that again.Â
His heart argued however with him constantly in your defence. This time it could be different, you were so different from all those people in his past, so kind and warm and patient.
He knew deep down that you would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, but his fear left him in a constant state of limbo, frustrated with himself and confused about how to move forward.
He decided to take Holly on a long walk to try and help clear his head, fidgeting with the tiny bear charm on his keyring in his pocket as he often did when he was frustrated.
Even this made his thoughts circle back to you. Youâd given it to him not long after youâd become friends, having taken him out for dinner one evening when he had been having a tough week. Youâd wandered around the city without any real plans, eating snacks from street vendors, talking and goofing around till he felt his chest finally begin to lighten. Youâd won the keychain charm in a random gatcha capsule machine and had insisted that it resembled him, dropping it in his hand and saying that he should keep it as a good luck charm.
Heâd humored you somewhat reluctantly at first, but heâd found himself toying with the charm whenever he was anxious or uneasy, a sense of comfort and certainty creeping through him whenever he held onto it, your words echoing through his mind.
Apparently the universe was as fed up with Yoongiâs bullshit as he was, deciding that since he wouldnât make a decision on his own, it would give him a push in the form of you on his doorstep as he returned home with Holly from their walk.
The tiny dog rushed to greet you, having missed your presence almost as much as his owner had the past few weeks, excitedly bouncing around your feet as you tried to pet him.
Hi buddy.â You giggled before glancing up to meet Yoongiâs eye. âHey Yoongs.â
âH-hey.â He swallowed nervously. âWhat are you doing here?â
âI was in the neighborhood and thought Iâd say hi.â You said, still playing with Holly.
He watched the two of you, a tiny smile making its way across his face as he took in the way your expression lit up as you cooed over the little poodle, your smile warming him more than the lingering hints of summer in the air, instantly weaving your way back into his heart.
âYou wanna come in?â The words had a slight wobble as they left his mouth, as if he was asking himself more than you.
You nodded. âIâd like that.â
He let the three of you into the house, debating awkwardly on what he should do before settling next you on the sofa.
It was quiet for a moment, neither of you quite knowing where to start.
âSo, howâs the new album going?â You offered.
The two of you talked for a while, quickly falling back into your usual routine, talking about everything from work to friends to the new project youâd been working on, but there was clearly an unspoken âsomethingâ hanging in the air between you, Yoongi gradually losing himself in just listening and watching you, the way your eyes flashed as you spoke, the way you talked through your hands.Â
It was several minutes before you noticed the way he was staring at you, his eyes distant, an almost dreamy glaze over them.
âWhat?â You asked.
He shrugged.
âYou just look happy.â He replied.
âI am happy.â You confirmed, lightly shoving his shoulder. âIâm always happy when Iâm with you.â
Your words sent a quiet thrill through him, warm and hopeful, but your next words also triggered a twinge of guilt.
âIâve missed this, you, the past few weeks.â You admitted, playing with your hands on your lap. âI was honestly starting to think you were avoiding me.â You laughed nervously, trying to lighten the weight behind your words.
He was silent for a moment, the decision that heâd been avoiding hanging in the air again.
âActually⌠I kinda was.â He admitted. âNo, I know I was.âÂ
Your expression fell. âWhy? Did I do something-?â
âNo no, it wasnât anything you did.â He quickly assured you. âIt was-, it was a âme thingâ I needed to figure out.â
âWhat kind of thing?â You asked.
He hesitated.
Fuck it.
âThe fact that I havenât been honest with myself, or you, about a lot of things, like the fact that I like you⌠as more than a friend.â
Your mouth fell open at his admission, but Yoongi pressed on, fearing that if he stopped now, he might never get it out.
He laid everything out, his feelings for you and his fears and scars from the past and why he pulled away from you, his gaze never straying from the ground in front of him as he spoke.
âThrough all of this, I realized a couple things.â He said.Â
You waited for him to continue.
 âI could live without you, but I would fucking hate it.â He finally glanced up at you, his eyes unusually vulnerable.Â
âI hated not seeing you, hated not hearing your laugh, not smelling your perfume of your stupid coffee order in my car after driving you to work. I hated it, but it was all my own fault, because I was too much of a coward to admit that I liked you more than I thought was possible, more than I should. â
âYoongi-â You tried. but he kept going.
âAnd you can tell me to fuck off and that you donât feel the same, and Iâll gladly leave you alone, or go back to being just friends, but I just wanted-â
âYoongi, shut up.â You said, not harshly, but firmly enough to snap his mouth closed instantly.Â
His heart pounded loudly in his chest, the silence stretching between you deafening as he waited for you to speak
âYou really think youâre the only one whoâs been feeling like this? Whoâs been afraid?â You asked quietly, your voice trembling with emotion. âYou think I havenât thought about if we?... If I told youâŚâ You took an unsteady breath, Yoongi staring at you in disbelief. âWhy did you say something before-?
âI was afraid,â He admitted, feeling tears beginning to prick at his eyes. âAfraid that you wouldnât want this. Or worse, that you would.â
Your eyes saddened as you reached out, fingers brushing against his cheek. âWhy would that be worse?â
âBecause I donât wanna break this, I donât wanna lose youâ He whispered, his voice cracking. âNot when you mean so much to me.â
Suddenly, the distance between you felt unbearable, the space filled with the weight of thousands of unspoken feelings.
Before he could think, you closed the gap, leaning so close you could feel each other's shaky breaths, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.
âSay it,â You whispered, the words barely audible. âI wonât hurt you⌠just say it.â
For a moment, you thought he might retreat, that he might hide behind the walls heâd built around himself again. But then his gaze softened, a quiet resolve settling into his chest.
âI love you,â He breathed, the words falling from his lips easily, soft and unguarded. âI love you so fucking much.â
He leaned in, letting his forehead rest against yours, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. His touch was gentle, reverent, as if you might disappear if he held on too tightly.Â
But you werenât going anywhere. Not when youâd just been offered the world in his hands.
You couldnât find your words. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing against his in a way that felt both brand new and familiar all at once, like finally coming home.
The world around you melted away, his arms wrapped around you tightly, shielding you from everything that could ever dare try to distract from this moment, pulling you close, feeling how perfectly you pressed against him.
His lips were soft and warm on yours, his touch achingly tender, every brush of his fingers against your skin like a spark of electricity.
When you finally broke apart, breathless, his eyes stayed scrunched closed, as if trying to savor every ounce of this feeling.
His fingers traced gentle paths up and down your arms to your shoulders, his breath warm against your skin.
âI donât know-,â He whispered, his voice laced with vulnerability and need, drawing away slightly. âFuck, I want so much, but I donât know if we should-â
âDonât hide away from me again, please.â You begged, following him to keep close, your lips brushing against his as you spoke, sending shivers rippling through him. âWe donât have to do anything you donât want to, but donât be donât hide. Show me what you need. Please.â
At your words, Yoongi felt the last remnants of his fear crumble away, replaced only by a deep craving and need for you.Â
Crushing his lips to yours again, he gave himself over to the kiss fully, gripping your waist and pulling you to straddle him properly.
His lips trailed down down your jaw to your neck, sucking marks on the sensitive skin as he went and causing you to writhe and squirm in his hold, grinding down against the growing bulge in his pants.
He let out a pained groan.Â
âTouch me, god please, touch me.â He begged into your neck, bucking up into you desperately.
There was a blur of fumbling with buttons and zippers, your shirt thrown away somewhere behind the sofa, leaving your heaving chest bare for him to paw amd suck at hungrily.
You snaked a hand between you to stroke his aching length through his boxers, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he bucked up into your touch, moaning into your skin.
âPlease.â He begged, for what he didnât even fully know.
You shifted back just enough to free him from the confines of his underwear, his cock springing up against his abdomen, the tip red and leaking, desperate for any sort of relief.
As he watched through glazed-over eyes, you let your spit drip down onto his cock for lubrication, wrapping your hand around him and stroking him slowly to spread it over him, reveling in the way he twitched and whined under your touch.
âFuck, Y/n, m-more please.â He moaned, his hips bucking up to chase your hand.
You sped up your movements, twisting your wrist just right as he clung to you, your foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air. The whole thing almost felt more intimate than if he were actually inside you.
âI-, fuck, Iâm gonna-â He panted, pulsing in your grip.
âLet go baby, I got you.âÂ
He came with a shuddering groan, curling into you as he painted your hand with streaks of white that dribbled back down onto his twitching length, making him shiver with oversensitivity.
âFuck, Y/n, that was, I-â He struggled to catch his breath, leaning against you heavily.
âYoongi?â
âHmm?â
âI love you too.â You kissed his lips lightly, moving to detangle yourself from him so you could clean the two of you up, when he caught you by the waist, pulling you back down on the sofa, pinning you under him, his eyes dark as they stared into yours.
âWhere do you think youâre going, darling? Weâre just getting started.â
âNow itâs your turn.â
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz
#bts x reader#bts x y/n#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x reader#yoongi drabble#yoongi scenarios#yoongi smut#yoongi oneshot#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#bts smut#bts angst#bts drabble#bts one shot#bts oneshot#bts requests#7ndipity
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uh oh, i'm falling in love | myg
summary. the night that yoongi realises you might be a lot more than just a close friend to his heart.
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: fluff, best friends to ??, one sided love? (up to reader's interpretation)
word count: 1.5k
warnings: none <333
notes: this was a request from my love, @perfectlyoongi-main. you can find the ask for this oneshot here. listening to labyrinth by taylor swift on repeat while writing this definitely made me feel very very single, but i loved writing this sm. as always, likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback is so so appreciated!! i hope you guys enjoy <333
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You stop in front of the small, old-fashioned photo booth, hands on your hips as you look it over with mild scepticism.
Itâs a flimsy structure tucked in a quiet corner of the mall, slightly worn down with chipped paint and a fading sign hanging above it. Itâs the kind of booth that hasnât been updated in years, where the pictures are low-quality and slightly off-colour, but you look at it with the excitement of someone whoâs just discovered a hidden gem.
âI donât think weâll both fit inside,â you muse, tilting your head as if a different angle might magically increase its size.
Yoongi stands beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket, eyeing the booth with a barely hidden look of reluctance.
If he's being honest, heâd much rather be back home with you, watching movies in the comfort of his living room, eating pizza, and letting the night pass by as it usually does. Itâs how heâs spent his birthdays for the past three years since meeting you, a quiet tradition heâd grown to look forward to. But this year, youâd insisted he get out of the house, brimming with excitement at the idea of taking him somewhere, refusing to tell him what you had planned.
And even though he couldâve turned you down, Yoongi knew he wouldnât. Not with the way your face lit up when he agreed, that joyful glint in your eyes that made his heart beat just a little faster.
âMaybe we should just do this somewhere else,â he suggests, already eyeing the dim mall corridor as an escape route. âThereâs no way weâre both fitting inside unless you sit on my lap or something.â
He means it as a joke, but the moment the words leave his mouth, he realises the weight they carry. His heart skips a beat as you turn to him with that playful smile he knows so well, eyes sparkling with a mix of determination and mischief.
âI donât thinkââ
âOh, come on! Itâs your birthday,â you say, nudging him with your elbow. âAnd weâve been best friends for long enough that it wonât be weird.â
Yoongi opens his mouth to respond, but the words seem to disappear before they can reach his lips. The suggestion should feel casual, even funny, but thereâs a strange tension that settles in his chest, stopping him from brushing it off like he usually would. Itâs the same tension thatâs been creeping up more often these days, the one that leaves him feeling almost breathless whenever heâs around you.
âUnless,â you add with a sly smile, your expression feigning innocence, âyouâd rather sit on my lap?â
He chuckles, the sound more nervous than he intended. âFine. Whatever,â he mutters, rolling his eyes. But as he steps forward, he feels a strange warmth creeping into his cheeks, something uncomfortably close to anticipation.
You squeeze into the booth first, settling onto the small, tacky leather stool with a satisfied grin. You pat your lap playfully, but Yoongi only shakes his head, stepping into the cramped space behind you.
His heart thrums erratically as he settles onto the stool, his knees brushing against yours as he wraps his arms loosely around your waist, pulling you just close enough that you both fit within the boothâs limited space. You lean back against him, so naturally that he wonders if you can feel the way his heart races at the contact.
âSee?â you say, glancing back at him with a grin. âThis isnât so bad.â
The cameraâs light starts blinking, giving a brief warning before the first picture snaps. You immediately turn to him, nudging his cheek to bring him closer, and in the tight space, itâs all he can do to keep his balance as he leans in, resting his chin on your shoulder.
âSmile!â you chirp just as the flash goes off.
The light catches him off guard, and he blinks, momentarily dazed by the brightness. He hears you laughing softly, your shoulders shaking against him, and heâs hit with a wave of warmth, one that spreads through him as he watches you, momentarily forgetting about the camera entirely.
With a slight grin, you shift in his lap, angling the two of you for another shot as the timer counts down again.
Youâre so close he can feel the faint trace of your perfume, the warmth of your skin, the rhythm of your breathing as it syncs with his. And for some reason, the thought of being this close to youâcloser than he ever thought heâd beâstirs something unexpected within him.
Another flash, capturing you mid-laugh, oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing within him.
As the countdown begins again, you glance back, your gaze meeting his, and Yoongi feels himself freeze. Thereâs a hint of something in your eyesâan invitation, perhaps, or maybe a questionâthat makes his heart race all over again.
His eyes drift to your smile, the soft curve of your lips, the brightness of your gaze, and he canât ignore the way his own heartbeat echoes in his ears, loud enough that heâs sure you can hear it too.
The timer clicks down to the next flash, and he forces a smile for the camera, though his mind is elsewhere entirely. Heâs trying to make sense of the strange rush of feelings flooding through him, feelings that have been building up slowly, subtly, over time.
The booth is quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of machinery and your shared breaths. You tilt your head slightly, resting it against his shoulder, and his entire world narrows down to this single moment. Yoongi feels his arms tightening around you, an instinctual gesture thatâs both protective and vulnerable.
The timer clicks down to one last shot. "Alright, funny face!" you call out, pulling an exaggerated grin, and he chuckles, trying to shake off the gravity of his own emotions as he mirrors your expression. The flash captures the both of you, frozen in a moment of joy.
As the final picture fades, you stay in his arms a beat longer than necessary, and the realisation hits him like a tidal wave, too strong to ignore. This isnât just friendship, he thinks, feeling a pang of something so overwhelming that it borders on painful. Somewhere along the line, heâs fallen in love with you, and he doesnât know if thereâs a way back.
But youâre oblivious, still laughing as you climb off his lap, crouching down to grab the strip of photos as they print out. âLook at this!â you say, waving them in front of his face. âI'm definitely hanging these up on my fridge.â
He blinks, his gaze lingering on you as you sort through the photos, laughing at the silly faces, the close-ups of your laughter, and his slightly dazed expressions. Youâre so focused on the photos that you donât notice the way heâs looking at you now, eyes soft with something deeper, something he can no longer deny.
âSee, I told you that it'd be fun.â You glance up, still beaming, and he forces himself to nod, plastering a smile over the vulnerability he feels beneath the surface.
âYeah,â he says quietly, his voice almost lost in the small space. âI guess it was.â
But even as he smiles, the weight of his realisation settles heavily in his chest, pressing down on him with a strange mixture of longing and fear.
He wonders if heâll ever find the courage to tell you, or if heâll spend his days hiding this quiet, aching love, content to stay by your side as a friend, the way heâs always been.
You turn to him, still laughing over one of the photos. âHey,â you say softly, a note of seriousness creeping into your voice. âThanks for tonight. I know this isnât your usual birthday thing, but⌠it means a lot.â
And for a brief moment, he thinks about telling you everything. He thinks about confessing, about admitting that the thought of spending his life without you, without these small moments of joy and laughter, terrifies him more than anything else. But the words catch in his throat, stuck beneath the weight of a love heâs too afraid to speak out loud.
âAnytime,â he finally says, his voice a whisper, barely audible above the hum of the booth.
You look at him for a moment longer, a soft smile playing on your lips before you hand him one of the strips of photos. As you walk out of the booth, he follows behind you, trying to ignore the ache in his chest, the quiet, unspoken confession that lingers in the space between you.
Maybe one day, he'll find the courage to tell you how he feels; maybe one day, he'll get to be more than just your friend.
But until then, his love will stay hidden in the attic of his thoughts, known only to him.
And for now, that's enough.
#tanniâs works đď¸#bts#min yoongi#yoongi#suga#bts suga#bts yoongi#bts min yoongi#bts fluff#yoongi fluff#bts angst#yoongi angst#bts smut#yoongi smut#bts x reader#yoongi x reader#bts x oc#yoongi x oc#bts x y/n#yoongi x y/n#bts x you#yoongi x you#bts oneshot#yoongi oneshot#bts drabble#yoongi drabble#bts imagine#yoongi imagine#bts scenarios#yoongi scenarios
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Locked! - Min Yoongi / Suga
Prompt: Your friends locked you together for an hour so you can make up.Â
Prompt request: HERE
Genre/tags: Slight angst, fluff, boyfriend Yoongi/established relationship
Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader
a/n: imagining the atmosphere of BTS in the soop helps with the mood! :)
âJin! Get me out!!!â
âSorry, Iâm only following orders!âÂ
Two hours before this, you were in your bedroom, contemplating whether you should really go to this short trip your friends had been planning for weeks. The idea sounded great in your mind until the very last week.Â
You had been fighting with your boyfriend for a week now. In the eight months of dating him, this was by far the longest you had fight with each other. Yoongi was mostly, if not every time, the most caring and chill person you knew. The thing was, he was so chill to the point he would let a random woman touch his face freely, caressing his cheek like he did not belong to you.Â
Sure, he was tipsy, at least that was his first excuse. But he was sober enough to see that his girlfriend was standing not too far away from him. Adding more to the fuel, apparently they used to work together and you had never even heard any of that nonsense.Â
That night you refuse both to go home with him and his offer to take you home. Your dramatic self almost called a cab if not for Jungkook dragging you to his car, basically volunteering to go home early just to safe the situation.Â
Must be the ego of the man, because Yoongi did not reach out to you after that. While he apologized right at the venue, you wanted him to come and comfort you, talk just the two of you to sort things out. But you two were alike after all, because just like him, your ego forbid you to even just text him. In your defense, he was at fault.Â
And that was how you ended up in Namjoonâs private villa, where you were supposed to have fun with your friends. The sour expression was not leaving you anytime soon, not when Yoongi was also there in the room with you.Â
Jin suggested a dance off on his switch. Man had not shut up ever since he got the latest copy of Just Dance in his console. Obviously you were not having it, so instead you just stood behind, watching Namjoon and Jungkook dance off to Rain on Me by Lady Gaga.Â
âHey, uh, Y/N? Can you get my joycon strap? Theyâre my roomâŚâ
You got up lazily and walked to the said room, completely unaware of the fact someone was already sleeping inside.Â
And that was how you got into this whole situation.Â
âJin!!!âÂ
You yelled again, but this time there was no more response came from the older guy, only the sound of the boys changing the song to play next. Clearly, they were not planning on getting both of you out very soon.Â
The yelling and banging at door awoken the other person in the room. You both stare at each other for a few seconds, before you broke the eye contact. You moved quietly to sit down on a chair, facing your back to him.Â
âThey locked us up.â You said while pretending to browse your phone, busying yourself on nothing.Â
The guy just straighten himself up on the bed, sitting down and grabbed his phone and started scrolling without answering to your words.Â
âYouâre not gonna say anything?â You snapped. You were not having his silent treatment.Â
Yoongi put down his phone and sighed heavily. âWhat do you want me to say?â
âWhatever.âÂ
You groaned, standing up from your seat, you headed to the other bed just next to his. You laid down and put the blanket to cover yourself wholly. If he could just go to sleep and run away from his problems, then so could you.Â
Maybe it was the tiredness from the trip, but eventually you fell asleep in just a few minutes. But the sleep only took you for a couple of minutes before the cool weather woke you up, made you shiver. You tossed and turned on the bed, hugging yourself close.Â
âAre you cold?âÂ
You heard the voice said. The ego within you refused to react, so you stayed unmoved inside the bedcover.Â
His voice called for your name again for the second time, but still, you refused to move. It was the hint of gentleness and loving in his tone, or maybe just the fact that you missed him so much, you just started tearing up silently.Â
âCan you stop being childish?âÂ
You heard him again, but this time the source of his voice sounded very near, as if he was just right behind you.Â
And you were right. He peeled the cover just until your waist, exposing yourself from underneath. You were still hugging yourself, folding your wrists together under your chin, eyes all covered.Â
He sighed loudly, before your eyes jolted open at the feeling the other side of the bed dipped in with the weight of his body.Â
âDonât.âÂ
You stopped him. Clearly at this point he was aware of you crying but you did not care. All you knew was that you would instantly melt the moment he touch you and you didnât want him to win you back over that easily.Â
âAt least let me cuddle you, I donât want you to get sick.â
âJust turn off the aircon.â
âThe remote is in the living room. The one they have outside isnât working.âÂ
You groaned. The universe really wasnât on your side this time.Â
âUgh, whatever Iâll yell at them to get us outâŚâ
âOkay, stop.âÂ
You looked at his direction and saw the frustration distinctly written on his face.Â
âWhat do you want?!â You folded your arms at him. âYou clearly didnât want to talk with me before.âÂ
âIâŚâ He found it hard to make out his words. âLook, I justââ
âDo you wanna break up?âÂ
It was an impulsive thing for you to say. You did not actually mean it of course. You loved him, you loved him a lot that you could barely handle not being close with him for a week. You could not imagine how you would handle an actual breakup with him.Â
âJesus, no.â He ran his fingers through his hair. âLetâs talk this throughâŚâÂ
You saw how he stretched his arm, like he was about to hold yours, but stopped in his tracks.Â
âWho is she?â You suddenly asked.
Yoongi looked to your eyes and went silent. He seemed to be in deep thoughts. It took him a few moments before he opened his mouth.Â
âHer nameâs Yujin. We used to work together last year before she resigned. Also used to be somewhat close until I found out she only wanted to get close to me because of my positionâŚâ He sighed. âHeard it myself, it was her words not mine. I overheard her talking with someone at our company dinner.â
âI didnât knowâŚâ You said, looking at him sympathetically. âWhy havenât I heard about any of this? Arenât we friends way long before all of this?â
âI kinda donât want you to know about how dumb I was.â He raised his eyebrows and huffed.Â
âBut that nightâŚâ
âI know.â He looked at you directly. âIâm sorry. I didnât know what to do. Everyone was staring and if I just push her or do anything rude itâd be much worse. As much as I despise her, I didnât want to embarrass her in the public eye like that.âÂ
âBut I donât like seeing other people touch you like thatâŚâ You looked away as you felt your eyes getting glassy again.Â
âCome here.â He took you by your wrist and you landed in his embrace. âIâm sorry.â He said as stroked your hair gently.Â
âI miss youâŚâ You said between sniffles.Â
âI know, I guess I was angry because you just left and refused to listen to me.â
âIâm sorry too, I was just really jealous.â You hugged him tighter and you could hear him chuckle a little bit.Â
âAre we good now?âÂ
He let go off you to take a good look at your face. His thumb swiped the remaining tears from your eyes and you broke into a smile, nodding at him. He smiled back, showing the gummy smile you loved so much.Â
âWhat do we do with the cold now? Clearly theyâre not getting us out until dinnerâŚâ He eyed you playfully.Â
âYou pervert!â You giggled. âBut Iâm interestedâŚâ
Suddenly the man went down from the bed and stood up. You looked at him in utter confusion. Just seconds later, he scooped you and lifted you up in his arms. You yelped loudly in surprise.Â
You looked down to see him smiling with eyes full of lustâ
âYo⌠I think theyâre fucking!!!â You heard Hoseok exclaimed.Â
âOh my gosh they are!â Jimin squealed giddily.Â
âWe still need their help to prepare dinner thoughâŚâ You heard Namjoon protested in the background.Â
âWe can hear you, assholes!â Yoongi shouted back.
You heard a mixture of Jungkook and Hoseokâs laughter before the door clicked open.Â
âAyy!â Taehyung teased upon seeing you still in Yoongiâs arms. He had put you down but still had his arms around you. âNow thatâs a sight we love to see!â
âWhere the hell is Jin?!â You said, storming out the room.Â
The oldest laughed at the sight of you looking pissed. âIt was Namjoonâs idea!â He pointed at the other guy.
âI couldnât stand the two of you fighting I like that.â He shrugged. âPlus, if youâre not fighting that means I get to sleep in my room alone cause Yoongiâs gonna sleep in yours.âÂ
âSee? Everyone happy.â Jin laughed and clapped. âNow, go get the meat, we need to prepare for the barbecue!âÂ
You shook your head and smiled, seeing the silly guys. Yoongi walked from behind you and quickly gave you a kiss on the cheek before joining the chaos in front of you.Â
You wouldnât trade this for the world.Â
Thank you for reading! đ
Prompt request: HERE
#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts scenarios#yoongi fanfic#yoongi scenarios#suga imagine#suga scenarios#yoongi x y/n#yoongi x you#bts suga#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst
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