#deadass forgot what to tag this with that's where we are ajfdkjsfd

[bubmyg]

three pancakes - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: vampire!yoongi, fluff lmao so much fluff when do i not write fluff, domestic goodness, no blood warnings this time but the kittens make a cameo!

word count: 1,382

summary: there’s someone playing the piano in your dreams or the one where yoongi has a normal saturday morning with you

a/n: omg hannah u still write yeah i know alright ajfdlksf forgive me i haven’t written in months but i got this idea and wrote it in forty minutes here we go :’-)

There was a piano in your dream, a rich mahogany color lined in engraved bits of gold that drew in prominent trim designs to flecks in the wood. Someone, something, was playing it, the succession of keys pressing down into a haunting melody not the result of your hand reaching out to feather over the slick ivory. You jerked the appendage into your chest, holding your hand at your wrist as the music seemed to gather speed, more keys pressed down at a time in flurrying speed and the jerk of your gaze to keep up with the phenomenon was almost enough to rouse you from your sleep.

Instead, it was the slow of the music once more than eventually peeled your eyes open, the transition from the white swathed around the piano in your dream becoming dark then dim, grays and blues melding together from where black out curtains quelled the knocking of the morning sun. The music never stopped, however muffled now, crawling out from the spaces left underneath the cracked bedroom door when your bare feet hit the hardwood to pry it open. 

A few other noises joined the concerto, the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the excited meows of the kittens as they tumbled over each other in an effort to greet you. When the piano didn’t seem to cease with the clear indication that you were awake (to a vampire with hypersensitive ears, that is), you paused in your trek to the siren song, crouching to let the orange tabby and black kitten curl their purring heads into your cupped palms for a few passing heartbeats. 

Fingers played the keys of this piano, delicate ones wrapped underneath a few silver bands and covered at the palm by the sleeves of a baggy black turtleneck. You followed the line from pink tinged knuckles to the slouch of thin framed glasses resting on the edge of a rounded nose, pausing in the archway to the living room just to let your heart recover from the rush of fondness it got in that moment. 

Yoongi didn’t acknowledge you until you’d lowered yourself into the massive armchair stationed at a diagonal to the instrument, eyes flitting to yours long enough to have an endeared smile of his own pressing into the line of his lips before the human color of his eyes, a richly gentle brown, became hidden behind thick eyelashes as his fingers continued their work. You watched in rapt attention, feet curled underneath you, chin to the palm of your hand until the song died out in an almost playful skip of his index and middle fingers over the last couple of notes. 

He sat back, abandoning the character of a centuries old vampire once known for his skill on the very thing he sat behind in favor of your Yoongi, using the hyper extended curl of his ring finger to shove his glasses up on his nose before stuffing flattened palms under his thighs while broad shoulders hunched a bit and the same pink color in his knuckles tinged the top of his ears. 

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You shook your head, “You’re up late, anyway.”

Rarely was he “awake” when morning came for you, generally already trapped in the work in his basement studio while the curtains, all three layers, on the upper level had been drawn back for your benefit. Upon further inspection, you found that to be the case in that given instance, curtains of the grand bay window facing the front of the house drawn open. Panic seasoned into you from years of dating a vampire silenced into just the roar of your heart when you noticed it was cloudy, splashes of rainwater curling down the glass planes. The circle of natural light spilling through the windows didn’t quite reach Yoongi’s purposefully placed bench, anyway. 

“It’s the weekend,” Yoongi offered as simple explanation, “I wanted to see you.”

Your heart warmed, shaking your head to disperse the unwarranted shyness that trickled into your smile. “What was that you were playing?”

Yoongi didn’t pluck the keys hard enough for the full capacity of their sound to emit, relaxing your stature a bit more as the rain seemed to make up for the disparity in sound. “Something I’ve been writing…”

“You’ve already got me hearing it in my dreams so,” You grinned when he furrowed an eyebrow at you, “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.”

He parted his mouth to question when a bit more light spilled into the room, a few of the clouds in the distance breaking with the introduction of the sun. Amusement lit his features when you moved to scramble for the curtains, rising to gently catch your wrist and tug you to him albeit the bit of nausea that rumbled low in his stomach. 

“Come. Let me make you breakfast,” When you hesitated, Yoongi touched pouted lips to the back of your hand, “No windows in there.”

Yoongi held your hand as you rounded the kitchen island, clambering atop the countertop while he abandoned you for the cupboards. Fingers stalled on a box and he turned to you with a knowing smirk, “Do you want pancakes?”

You tried to suppress your smile. “Yes, please.”

Then did he drag the box out, a cheap pancake mix you’d picked up at the store weeks ago. An indignant wrinkle met the bridge of his nose and he glared at you over the frames of his glasses, “Is this all we have?”

“It’s good,” You tried to argue. 

Yoongi rolled his eyes, dropping the box back into place beside a half eaten bag of corn chips and a dented can of corn, instead yanking open the cabinet containing his cooking materials. Ingredients came in a frenzy then, quickly filling the opposite counter and before you could blink at the sound of thunder outside, he’d dropped a mixing bowl next to your thigh filled with a gooey brown substance stirred by a massive spoon in his grasp. 

“What was that you said about your dream?”

He wasn’t looking at you, fluffy black bangs pointed to you instead as they ruffled with every few passes of his spoon through the mixture. You hummed, drawing your attention to the far corner of the kitchen while letting your legs swing over the side. 

“There was someone playing the piano in my dream. I think the song sounded similar to the one you were playing,” You didn’t notice that Yoongi had stopped stirring as you continued to ramble, “There wasn’t anyone sitting at it...but the keys were being pressed down? It was weird, come to think of it—”

Cool fingertips touched the side of your neck first and then your cheek, soft in nudging you closer for Yoongi’s lips to linger on the opposite side of your face, closer to your nose than anything. 

“It was probably me,” He teased lowly, nudging his nose against your cheek, “I’m a vampire, remember? I don’t show up in anything—”

“Is there your way of telling me your ever growing list of superpowers includes hacking into my dreams?”

Yoongi sighed against your cheek, “No—” His hand dropped from your cheek to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, “—but I will say this…”

He was stoically serious when you cocked your chin to look at him, “...if I still dreamed as you humans do, mine most certainly would include you, angel.”

If Yoongi would have stalled a fraction longer you were almost sure the over growing fondness deep in your heart would have expanded enough to draw him into your little bubble of love but he broke the ambiance but gently patting your thigh a couple of times before pulling away with the pancake batter at his hip. 

“How many do you want?”

Maybe it made it worse that he’d moved further away (enough to drag out the griddle and grunt to reach the outlet for it) because you found yourself stalling in your answer for so long that he turned to look at you again with expectant eyebrows. 

“Two is fine.”

You giggled when Yoongi placed his hands on his hips and glared, “All this batter and you only want two?”

“Okay, three…”