#every day i am squishing and stretching him and using him like a basketball

[just-some-guy-joust]

Unrelated to any submissions of mine, I have a fun fact for you and the poll-goers about comb jellies! Despite their similar appearances and names, comb jellies are in a different group from jellyfish! There's a whole lot of reasons there but here's one. for you. for Amedeo <3 Comb jellies don't have any stingers! Tentacles, yes, but nothing that can hurt you. So fulfill your dreams TODAY and pitch an Amedeo into a wall! Juggle him, show it your favorite TV show, carry him around and shove him in people's faces. Rest assured that whatever bloody belly comb jelly activities you wish to engage in for this poll, it will be entirely pain free... for you! Speaking from my experience with handling comb jellies, they feel similar to kneaded dough after it's risen for a few hours, but a little smoother and jiggly like a slime, and with LITTLE TO NO STICKY! Sensory issues? No problem, just hold a comb jelly! They light up all silly in your hands (: And once you're done? Well, you know what you have to do. FWWWSHHH Back in to the water it goes! For legal reasons this is /j please don't pick up real life wildlife, especially without IDing them properly because you WILL get stung if you guess wrong. I've seen that happen before and it SUCKS. And I guess don't hurl them at your TV or out to sea if you do catch one. However, Amedeo is a very polite fictional character and completely within reason and legality to draw yourself hanging out with, whatever that may entail (:

all very important information im storing directly into my brain this is literally everything to me

[yminie]

vaunt ii (m) | jeon jungkook

sequel to vaunt

pairing: Jungkook x Reader genre/warnings: college!au, frat!au, lots of swearing lol, smut, sex toy use, orgasm denial, teasing, fingering, oral (female receiving), the return of jungkook and his ‘huge wang’ (© @gimmesumsuga 2k18 LMAO), cumshot words: 9.2k summary: True to the nature that birthed your relationship, Jungkook loves to set a challenge, and you love to try and prove him wrong.

a/n: here it is! This is it – the second and last fic in the vaunt universe! I hope you guys love it a lot and thanks for all the support on part one!

A ruckus from downstairs pulls you from sleep and you instantly groan as your eyes are scorched with the sunshine breaking through the blinds. Ear splitting pain around the back of your head has you covering your burning orbs and burying your face into the pillow beneath you, hands tugging fruitlessly at the comforter in an attempt to better shield yourself, but it doesn’t give.

��Jungkook, what the fuck.” You groan, reaching out and landing a sharp slap on his bare back, right above his ass. “Who the fuck leaves their blinds open overnight?”

“Ah! Fuck, babe, really?” He wriggles onto his side, grabbing at the burning mark you’d left behind and serving to only pull the comforter further away from you.

“Get off the blanket you–fuck! Don’t push me you weeb ass–ah!” He reaches out, grasping at your arm, but cannot stop your fall and you land in a heap on the floor, luckily with the comforter wrapped around you to cushion the landing. “Ow!”

Your head gives another painful throb, and you glare up at him as he chuckles and rests his chin on the edge of the mattress, looking down at you. “You got the blanket at least?”

“Do you have Advil in this nerd lair? Because you’re already giving me a headache.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck and stretching with a grunt as he falls back onto the bed, out of your sight.

“Nah but there’s orange juice and painkillers downstairs, want me to get some for you?” You smile to yourself just for a moment at his offer but shake your head, regardless of the fact that he can’t see you.

“No I gotta pee anyway, I’ll go.” You unfold yourself from the blanket and reach for the first item of clothing in your vicinity, slipping Jungkook’s black t-shirt from the night before over your head and standing on achy legs. You force yourself to suck it up even as a sharp twinge stabs through your stomach; you took the dick, you’ll wear the pain.

Jungkook reaches out just as you step away and lands a light smack on your bare ass just under the hem of the shirt, and quickly steals the comforter off the floor once more in your absence, and you leave him chuckling to himself as you venture into the hall.

The frat is a complete mess, as could be expected from a Friday night party, and as you make a beeline for the –clearly already been cleaned– kitchen, a low whistle sounds from the couches behind you.

“That is a very short ensemble, _____. Please, feel free to bend over for us.” You fix Jimin with a glare, noting the pink flush still in his cheeks and the cheeky grin – he’s still drunk.

“How about you bend over so I can shove something where the sun doesn’t shine, Park?” He falls back against Taehyung’s shoulder with peals of laughter, waking the younger from his light slumber and making him jostle the cup of water nestled between his thighs, covering himself in the liquid.

“I thought girls were meant to be in good moods after a decent dicking down?” Yoongi quips, pulling another giggle from Jimin’s quickly reddening face, and you turn on your heel, juice and painkillers in hand.

“Is that why you’ve been so grumpy, Yoonie? Haven’t had a good dicking in a while?” Taehyung splutters, water bursting from his lips and showering Jimin, but the intoxicated boy is too far gone in his cackling, sliding slowly off the couch, to even notice. You can hear Yoongi cursing back at you as you jog back upstairs.

Jungkook lifts his head from the pillow at the sound of the door clicking shut, and you offer him a small smile through squinting eyes as you cross the room to close the blinds. Sighing in relief once your retinas are safe, you make your way back to the bed and down your painkillers and a large mouthful of juice before offering the same to Jungkook who smiles gratefully.

“Your bed is so soft.” Relaxing back against the pillows, you pull the comforter up to your chin, yelping when Jungkook’s hands, cold from the cup, sneak around your waist and pull you into his chest. He only chuckles, squeezing you between his muscular arms and shuffling down under the blanket to nuzzle his face between your breasts and making you giggle.

“Your boobies are so soft.” Snorting, you throw a well-aimed palm at the back of his head, which only serves to make him press his face closer before shaking it side to side quickly and you try to push him away with a yelp.

“Ew, don’t motorboat me!”

__________

Irene laughs freely at the way you’re hitting your forehead on the table in front of you, reaching across with the assumption that you aren’t noticing her steal your fries. “It’s not that bad, _____. You’re not the only person that has to resit that assessment. Besides, isn’t it better you’re getting another chance to improve your score?”

“I already tried my best, what do they want from me?” You swat at her thieving fingers when she reaches for another chip and she snorts, slapping your hand right back before dipping the fry into her own tomato sauce. “I’m gonna be stuck studying the same shit all weekend!”

“You don’t have to study all weekend. Plus a certain someone will be there tomorrow night.” You glare at her, scraping the pickles off your cheeseburger and watching her steal them too. “No doubt he can help you de-stress.”

“Why do you say it like that? He’s my actual boyfriend, not some high school crush.” Your burger has grown cold in the time you’ve spent forming the red mark above your eyebrows, but you’re a partially broke college student and what you get is what you get. “Plus I see him every damn day, nothing special.”

“Because as hard as he is for you, you’re soft for Jeon Jungkook and I know you’ll never admit it.” You simply roll your eyes, stealing one of her nuggets in retaliation and poking your tongue out at the offended expression you get in return.

“Who’s soft for Jeon Jungkook and won’t admit it?” You groan again, quickly trying to move your tray away from another pair of thieving digits, but Yoongi is much faster than normal with food at stake.

“It’s okay, I already know she is.” Jungkook settles on the other side of you, sitting sideways on the bench and sliding closer to you to wrap an arm around your waist. You roll your eyes again when he leans in to kiss your cheek, nuzzling his nose against you with a wide smile as you try to hide your own from Irene’s beady eyed grin.

“Okay, honestly, get your own food!” Yoongi ignores you; taking another bite of your cheeseburger while you huff in annoyance, face twisting at the moisture in Jungkook’s shirt from playing basketball but leaning against him regardless. “You owe me a cheeseburger meal. Both of you.” Irene grins, tearing her nugget in half between her teeth, and Yoongi silently takes a twenty out of his wallet and throws it down in front of you.

“Buy a couple, I’m hungry as hell.” You cheer, standing quickly to walk up to the counter, but a small tug on your elbow has you pausing to face Jungkook, quirking your eyebrow at his cheeky grin as he follows closely behind you.

“I got your text about the resit next week and I know you’re stressed out but are you still coming to the party?” You both move aside as someone clears their throat behind Jungkook, obviously impatient to see if one of you is planning on ordering.

“Even if I wasn’t, I don’t doubt Irene would drag me kicking and screaming from our dorm if I tried to stay home.” He snorts before glancing at the man standing just behind you in line, hand cupping your waist while he leans in even closer to whisper in a way that has you dreading whatever he’s planned up.

“Well make sure you come over early then ‘cause I have something for you. Something to make the party a lot more fun.” You stare at him for a minute, suspicion swimming in your eyes as you squint.

“Just what are you planning, Jeon Jungkook?” He doesn’t reply this time, merely nudging you towards the counter where the worker is waiting for you to order with a bored look on her face.

__________

“Oh shit, hang on!” You huff at the sudden voice, the exertion of having pushed against the front door of Beta Tau for the past minute or so making you out of breath, and moments later Jimin’s face appears in the slight gap you’d managed to make. “Hey, _____!”

“What the hell is behind there? I knocked and knocked but nobody came out!” Jimin disappears again and grunts in effort, the drag of furniture accompanying him, and then the door swings open smoothly and he waves you in with an embarrassed giggle.

“Heh, sorry about that. Tae knocked over a vase while taking out the trash and of course left me alone to clean it up, as always. Plus,” he pauses, fishing the earbuds from the neck of his muscle tee, “had these in. Didn’t notice you pushing until you almost squished me with it!”

Sarcastically, he reaches out to poke your bicep in faux appreciation of your ‘muscles’ and you roll your eyes, stepping around him with a playful shove. “Yeah, yeah I’m sure. How did your guys’ sport meet go? Looks like you had quite the time.” And you’re not kidding; the place is still a mess, popcorn, red cups and beer bottles littering the living area.

“Oh yeah, it got pretty crazy!” Jimin grins, surprisingly bright after what you’re sure was a big night, but then again he’s no stranger to still being intoxicated the next day. “Pretty sure your pretty little boyfriend is still upstairs sleeping it off, haven’t seen him since…5 am?”

“Oh god.” It’s half past four, and if he was still asleep then no doubt he must’ve hit the meet up way too hard last night. Jimin doesn’t speak at your groan of dread, merely flashing you a grin before lifting a red cup towards you in cheers, and you shake your head as you step around the bags of trash at the landing of the stairs and jog up to the second floor.

The familiar sounds of ‘morning after’ –regardless of the fact of it being mid afternoon– wash over you as you trail down the hallway, and you suspect the person loudly vomiting in the first bathroom is Hoseok – he’s never been very good at holding his alcohol.

Hushed voices behind various closed doors as well as the gentle bass of an instrumental you don’t recognize, and you pause in front of Jungkook’s door to watch a girl you don’t recognize walk down the hall. Her hair is a complete mess, makeup all over the place and heels in hand, but she doesn’t offer you a second glance as she hurries along to the stairs.

Glancing back, you notice it’s Taehyung’s door that she’s escaped from, and moments later he appears himself, shirtless and tired but a sleepy grin adorning his face when he makes eye contact with you. “Morning, _____!”

“Uh, Tae it’s the middle of the afternoo–” You’re cut off by Yoongi’s door opening next to Taehyung, and his fuzzy head barely peeks through the gap before he’s fixing the younger with a blurry glare.

“Shut the fuck up, Taehyung. You’re so noisy.” Taehyung just keeps walking, rubbing absentmindedly on the nail marks littering his side. “Next time you have a fourth fucking round, be a little more considerate of the people trying to sleep.”

“Good morning to you too, Hyung!”

Seconds later and Taehyung has disappeared into the second bathroom, not bothering to knock even though the shower is clearly running, and you faintly hear Seokjin protesting his intrusion.

“It’s 5pm, you fucking nympho.” Yoongi grunts to himself, nodding at you without further comment and retreating back into his pitch-black cave, and you chuckle to yourself before finally cracking the door of Jungkook’s room.

It takes your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness, but you finally locate the large lump of comforter on the bed and shuffle forwards to lean one knee on the mattress, dropping your bag to the floor. “Kook, you awake?”

There’s nothing but silence for a few moments before you hear a muffled groan and one arm emerges from within to flail around in an attempt to reach for you, and you grasp his warm wrist with a chuckle before he manages to punch you accidentally. “How you feeling?”

“Nnnngh–fuck.” The lump moves slightly but quickly gives up, and you realize his pillow is also covering his head. “Fuuuck¬–”

You snort, dropping his wrist and reaching for the water bottle half hanging out of his discarded book bag beside the bed. Luckily, it still has half the water left, and you poke him with it to pull out another curse.

“Drink some; it’s water. And you clearly need it.” His arm doesn’t lift from the bed, merely opens and slides towards you, and you watch, amused, as he pulls the bottle under the blanket and pillow before you hear the sound of him taking large mouthfuls, forcing you to uncover him quickly. “Kook, you’ll make yourself vomit if you drink too fas–oh my god, what the fuck did you do to your hair?!”

“Babe, please don’t yell my head is pounding!” His eyes squint even though there’s barely any light peaking through the blinds, and he ignores your gaping expression – pressing his face into the mattress and hiding his bleary eyes.

“Your hair is red, Jungkook! Not even red, its fucking pink. Bright fucking pink!” He groans again, rolling onto his back now and rubbing at his face. His torso is bare, and you can see the skin on the sides of his neck is tinged pink from the messy dye job.

“I know it’s pink, I lost a fucking bet with Jimin-hyung and he blindfolded me and dyed my hair, I don’t wanna talk about it.” You reach out and flatten the tuft sticking up on the side of his head, still dazed by the change in colour. It certainly doesn’t look bad, but you’d left Jungkook Friday afternoon with his hair dark brown like normal, and the bright shade it was now definitely required some sort of pre-warning.

“Isn’t this your karma for last year when you made him dye his hair baby pink?” You can’t help but laugh at his unamused expression, and run your fingers through his hair again, slowly adjusting to the colour. “It’s gonna be so fucking bright when you go outside–”

“Fucks sake.” He sits up with a heavy grunt, holding his head as he leans towards you and buries his face in your shoulder, and you rub the hair at the back of his head with a smile, scrunching your nose at the sweaty, alcohol smell that still lingers on his skin. “I’m pretty sure I’m still drunk.”

“Ha! You should probably shower then, drunkie.” You ruffle his hair, ignoring his complaints as you stand up from the bed and grab his towel from the hook behind his door. “Go on, I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Nooo!” He sticks to you like a leech, almost knocking you over with his weight as he pulls you closer, and you giggle at the pout on his face, even if he’s still frowning from his hangover. “Come shower with me?”

“I’m not the one that needs a shower, and you need to eat something to soak up all that alcohol.” He pouts harder as he nuzzles your stomach with his nose, and you push him away with a smile, throwing the towel over his head and leaving it there covering his face. “Go now, I can hear Jin coming out of the bathroom.”

He relents this time, standing and stretching his tired, lean torso carefully while you admire his figure unabashedly. And soon enough he’s clean and mostly dressed, sat atop the comforter as he eats the last of the sandwich you’d made. “You came over pretty early, I was expecting you to come later.”

“You did ask me to come over early, remember? You can sleep more if you want, I have to get ready anyway.” He shakes his head, sliding his empty plate onto the bedside table before leaning down to rummage in the bottom drawer for a few seconds.

“No I wanted you here for a reason. I got this!” He grins, pulling a package out of the drawer along with a pair of scissors and placing them in front of you.

“Wow, would it kill you to invest in some wrapping paper?” You can’t help but tease, even if he only brushes you off with an amused roll of his eyes.

“Just open it.” You do as he says, cutting through the tape holding the box closed before opening the flaps and digging through the paper stuffing until you found another, smaller box. But this one had pictures on the outside and you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

“Jungkook, we’ve been dating for barely a month and you think you can put things up my butt? I don’t know what kind of weird, kinky hentai you’ve been watching, but there is no way this is–” Jungkook splutters before snatching the box from you, and you snort.

“Did they send me the wrong thing?!” He stares into the box before lifting his gaze to glare at you, and you stroke his arm gently with a chuckle, reaching to take the box out and opening it quickly.

“A remote control vibrator huh? Just what are you planning to do with this tonight?” You pull the little device from the plastic casing gently, and Jungkook immediately makes a grab for the remote that falls out behind it. “Because I can tell you right now, if you’re lying and planning to try and get this into my butt, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“No, I’m leaving your butt alone…for now.” You roll your eyes at his grin and give him a suspicious look as he leans in towards you, but fall into his gentle kiss anyway. His tongue glides across your lower lip slowly, just gently parting your lips with the tip of the slick muscle, and you hum a moan as he presses you back against the pillows with a gentle push.

“Just wanted to have a little fun, you know we enjoy the competition. And I have a little challenge for you tonight.” It doesn’t take Jungkook long to wind you up, his bare torso pressing against you warmly and his mouth claiming yours with ease as he rolls his hips against you.

Your moans are muffled by his kiss, breathing coming in heavy pants through your nose as you press yourself ever closer to him when his thigh parts yours to press against the apex of your thighs.

“Hmpf!” You whimper under your breath when the next swivel of his hips has his tensed thigh muscle rubbing against your core, and you automatically respond with a lift of your hips to get closer to the sensation.

Jungkook’s hardened length is obvious against your hip, but he ignores his own need in favor of grinding his thigh even harder against you, and you break away from his mouth with a gasp. “A-And just what is this challenge?”

“You’re so warm, hmm.” Jungkook nuzzles your jaw gently, suckling against the sensitive skin beneath your ear and making you arch up into his chest at the spike of pleasure it invokes. “I want to see how long it takes for you to break and beg me to fuck you.”

Your panties are slowly starting to stick to your core uncomfortably, and you shift your hips with a whine, hands tangled in Jungkook’s hair and pulling his head closer to your neck.

“Mmf–more!” He chuckles against your chest where you’re pushing him closer to the neckline of your shirt, and suckles gently against the swell of your cleavage before sitting up slightly. Humming at the way you whine in complaint at his retreat, he shushes you while soothing your need with slow rolls of his thigh between yours.

“None of this will be any fun later if you cum now, baby. Let’s not move too fast.” You pout; frown marring your expression that had been filled with such pleasure so little ago. He laughs more heartily at your obvious disappointment, but continues on with his plan, sitting up on his knees and picking up the little vibrator from where you’d dropped it on the bed.

The device looks exactly as it does on the box – a bright pink silicone bullet with a looped string on the end to help the removal process. You find yourself chewing your lip as Jungkook sends you a serene smile even as his free hand fiddles with the button of your jeans until it flicks open.

The two of you work together to shuffle the fabric down your legs, but Jungkook only lets it bunch around your knees before flipping you with surprising ease to land on your stomach.

“Oh!” You gasp as he tugs you up onto your knees, face pressed into the mattress, and promptly groan as he swipes his tongue across your damp folds with a wide smile, completely avoiding your clit. “Hng–ah! You fucking tease!”

“Just gotta get you wet enough baby, you know that.” Jungkook moans against your heat as he feels your walls give way to the intrusion of his long tongue, and his arm wraps under your hips and up around your lower back to hold a firm hand against your backside.

“God, please just fuck me!” The vibrations of his moans intensify when he growls at your pleading, and you shudder under his tongue when the noise rattles each vertebra in your spine.

“Don’t tempt me baby girl, unless you don’t plan on leaving my room at all tonight.” You hiss when he swats your thigh with the tips of his fingers, and his mouth fixes against the swell of your ass to suck kisses against the skin while his fingers gather the wetness he’d left behind. “I’ll fuck you long and hard later, but you need to behave for now.”

“P-Promise?” You breathe out a moan as his finger sinks into you, swirling to spread and collect any wetness covering your walls before twisting to find the more sensitive little bundle of muscles within.

“Yeah baby, I promise.” Jungkook’s mouth cuts off any further comment you might have made when he latches onto your clit, and you cry out into the pillow beneath you as a second finger breaches your walls with the new gush of wetness it triggers. He simply enjoys the way you shake and whine under his ministrations for a minute before finally pulling out his fingers and dislodging his mouth with one final wet suckle on your clit.

“Mm–no, wait–” You groan in complaint when you feel the smoother, cooler touch of the silicone at your fluttering entrance, and you can practically feel Jungkook’s grin as he swirls the tip in small circles just to tease you. It’s not much thickness wise, about the same as his two fingers, but the weight and texture as the little bullet slides smoothly into you is instantly obvious.

“Just a little more, baby, it looks so good–fuck.” Jungkook plays with the string a little, dragging the bullet against your walls to see your entrance stretch open against the pull, before repeating the process once more to ensure the vibe is completely coated in your slick before he lets it go.

“Shit–” You take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down with the knowledge that Jungkook wasn’t going to make you cum, but the weight and pressure of the toy inside you makes your need even harder to ignore. Jungkook’s hand feels heavy itself when he strokes up and down your spine soothingly before grasping your hips and easing you down to the mattress and then onto your side. “H–ah!”

He cant help his wide smile when you hum and gasp as the bullet shift inside you, big enough and pressed deep enough that it puts weight just above your gspot – enough to make your head spin.

“Feel okay?” Stroking your bare hips for a second, Jungkook leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth before shuffling down the bed and starting to redress your lower half. You try to help, lifting your hips and bending in an attempt to pull your bottoms up yourself, but your body is still adjusting to the new stimulation, and you’re forced to just let him do it instead.

“You’re expecting me to walk around the party all night and no doubt dance and everything, all with this thing inside me? Are you insane?” You nudge him with your foot petulantly, still somewhat bitter at your lack of release, but Jungkook simply smiles and buttons your jeans with a chuckle.

“Well I suppose you could sit down all night, even though it’s less fun.” He grins wide at your splutter and dodges the next hit you aim his way, sliding from the mattress onto his feet and reaching to grab a tee shirt off the floor.

__________

Parties in the cooler autumn months mean bonfires in the yard, and with the stress of exam prep you’d endured the past week it’s definitely long overdue for you to get a chance to relax. The party had already started before the sun was all the way down, and when you finally finish getting ready and make your way to the backyard, it’s not hard to locate your boyfriend.

“That hair is like a beacon, I’m not losing you in a hurry.” Jungkook grunts slightly when you land in his lap –not seeming to notice the way you yourself gasp lowly– but quickly makes more room for you to situate yourself properly. He automatically offers you a sip of his drink, but the moment the fumes reach your nose and you spot the brightly colored liquid you immediately dodge the cup. “God, didn’t you learn something from last night? Jimin’s cocktails are not a good idea.”

“Just ‘cause you cant handle the heat!” You can feel a shoe poking you in the back, and you shoot Jimin a glare over your shoulder, to which he only giggles and makes himself more comfortable where he’s laid back on the couch with his head in Taehyung’s lap.

“He woke up with pink hair, I think the question of who can ‘handle the heat’ is already answered.” You ignore Jungkook’s groan and shoot Jimin another smile. “Besides, handling the heat and dumb seem to coincide, no?”

“We all know I was just returning the favor, after being nicknamed cotton candy boy by the rest of my team last year!” Jimin glares at the side of Jungkook’s head, but the younger remains unbothered – drinking slowly from his cup with a grin.

“Yes but you were talked into that bet so easy, Chim, she’s not wrong about the dumb part.” Yoongi chimes in from the other side of the fire, Irene nestled against his side in an attempt to reach across him to the bottle in his other hand, and she throws you a wave with bleary eyes and pink cheeks. “You two go together well! Dumber and Dumbest.”

All while the boys throw insults a compare similar idiocies from parties past, Jungkook remains quiet, seemingly content with his cheek leant to your shoulder and his palm holding the curve of your ass. His short nails catch on the texture of your denim jeans, tickling your skin underneath, and you shift on his lap as a throb of warmth echoes through you.

“Feeling okay?” You don’t have to look at him; you can feel his cheek is tight from smiling so hard, and at your stubborn refusal to give him the pleasure of admitting how effected you already are, his chest vibrates with laughter. “Don’t ignore me baby~.”

“I’m not ignoring you, you needy brat.” You roll your eyes, unable to help your smile when you look down to find his eyes shining up at you, and his hold tightens on your hips as he leans up to press his lips to your jaw.

“_____, you drinking?” You blink.

“Hm?” Turning from giving Jungkook unnecessary attention to face, you look towards Jimin as he sits up and stretches his arms high above his head, flashing a peek of his toned tummy to the group as he groans before waving his empty cup towards you. “Oh, yeah I am. You going in to get a refill?”

“Baby~. Can you get me a refill too?” Jungkook flutters his eyelashes sickeningly sweetly up at you, and you can distantly hear Hoseok and Namjoon losing their shit across the circle, gagging loudly.

“If I must ¬– I’ll come with you Chim.” You take Jungkook’s cup with a roll of your eyes, and stand to meet Jimin, managing to take a step before your legs give way beneath you and you fall towards the elder–right into his lap.

The bullet had sprung to life inside you, heavy vibrations rushing through your aching core and aftershocks stimulating your clit just enough to blindside you for a moment, and when your head clears from the shock you can hear Jimin and Irene saying your name in mild alarm.

“I thought you hadn’t had anything to drink yet babe, you okay?” You sniff, shrugging off Jungkook’s fake concern when you instantly recognize the smugness ringing in his voice. The bullet is still once more, vibrations ceased as fast as they’d started, and when you look towards your boyfriend you now realize his hand is tucked safely into his jacket pocket, out of sight.

“I’m fine, just uh, dead leg I guess.” You don’t check anyone’s faces to see if your lame excuse was convincing, but promptly squeak in surprise when Jimin uses his steadying grip on your hips to pull you to your feet.

The thought of looking him in the eyes after almost face planting his dick is a little too much, and you avoid any eye contact you as hide your blush behind your hair, choosing to turn and shoot Jungkook one last look of warning before you proceed back into the house.

The few hours following that incident go relatively smoothly, Jungkook not pulling any more surprises on you yet, and the relaxed vibe from the party almost causes you to forget you’ve even got the little device inside you.

Drink after drink leads you to follow Irene to the dance floor, and the two of you quickly merge yourselves into the middle of the mob, the moisture of warm bodies and vigorous dancing quickly coating your skin. The blurriness of your eyes paired with the darkness of the room means it doesn’t take long for you to lose her in the crowd, and it also means you don’t realize anyone’s approaching you until he already has his hands on your shoulders.

“You look like you’re having fun!” Jimin grins, admiring the way you spin and twist before him with excitement sparkling in your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way you glance around to see if Jungkook is with him. “He’s still outside – told me you were in here dancing and I saw you were alone. Thought I’d come and keep you company!”

You don’t reply; merely grinning in acceptance and quickly taking a hold of his wrists before spinning him in a circle and throwing your arms up into the air. Jimin giggles loudly, returning the favor and spinning you so fast you almost lose your footing, stumbling against his chest, and that’s when it happens.

“Hngk!” You keel over in Jimin’s gentle hold, forehead hitting his shoulder and your nails dimpling the soft leather of his jacket as the vibe springs to life again. The weight of it feeling even more intense now it seems to be slipping, and you automatically clench around the device to keep it from escaping your slick walls, which is a grave mistake.

The tightening of your core nestles the end of the bullet right against your gspot, and you force yourself to pretend that you didn’t just moan into the cotton covering Jimin’s shoulder. You can faintly hear him asking if you’re okay, if you’re gonna be sick, if you need his help, but you ignore him completely and make a dash for the door, eyes flickering around the room in an attempt to spot your boyfriend, but he is no where to be found.

You make it to the bathroom, though each step is almost painful, and the moment the door is shut behind you, you collapse against the counter – thighs shaking with the effort it’s taking to hold you up while your body starts to ready itself for climax.

The thought of just taking the infernal little thing out before you can finish appears, but having already been denied a release today you figure it wouldn’t hurt to let the situation run its course. And it would, if Jungkook wasn’t content on playing with you even more.

Poor Jimin was very confused Came looking for me straight away Said you looked like you were going to be sick Said you were groaning in pain What would he say if he knew…?

The vibrations die down slightly, and you whine quietly in protest at the knowledge that he clearly wasn’t going to let you finish. Staring down at your phone as each message comes through, you find yourself clenching harder around the device, thighs pressing together in an attempt to prolong your pleasure. But as always, Jungkook can read you without even being in the same room – nor even speaking to you.

All sensations die down, and you groan in annoyance, head tipping back against the wall as you try and breathe to calm yourself down, but you choke on your own spit when a pulse jets through you from the bullet, and then again, and again. Of course the damn thing had different modes, you should have known!

You’re probably close huh, baby? So close and yet so far… All you have to do is say the magic words And I’ll walk straight into that bathroom and fuck you like you want me to I’m right outside baby Just say the words

“I give up!” The door squeaks, wood sliding against the doorframe and the sound of the bass emitting down the hall echoes of the tiles, muffling the sound of Jungkook’s shoes as he strolls into the room before the door locks shut with a click. “Fuck you, I hate you so much.”

“Oh? You don’t look like you hate me.” And he’s right, the reflection in the mirror; he flush in your cheeks, the sweat dampening your brow and the way your chest is heaving with each pulsation the bullet pushes through your walls. “You look like you want me – badly.”

“Please just fuck me, you said you’d fuck me!” Jungkook’s body heats at the raw desire swimming in your eyes, desperation bleeding into your inhibitions and rendering them void. Oh, how he loves when you ask him, gaze begging him to ruin you, body just calling for his touch.

“Yes I did, but I didn’t say when. And I’m quite enjoying the show.” Jungkook steps closer and you immediately reach out to pull him against you, pressing your heaving breasts into his chest and moaning as a sudden gush of wetness has your panties starting to stick uncomfortably against your folds.

“Kook, please, I’ll do whatever you want!” A faint click has the pulsations whirring back up to a constant thrum, and you can feel even more moisture dampening your core and seeping through to stain against the crotch of your jeans. It was baffling how he could do this, turn you into such a mess when just ten minutes ago, anything remotely akin to this was so far from your mind.

“Whatever I want? Hm?” Jungkook’s grin grows as he leans down towards you, and the press of his lips finally against your skin almost makes your knees buckle. Another click sounds and the vibrations intensify, the white noise of blood rushing through your ears filling your head as you become lost in the pleasure, every ounce of your being centred on that one small point of contact. “What if I don’t want you to cum yet?”

“J-Jungk–kngk–” Your voice cracks into a sob when the pulsations fluctuate once again and Jungkook pulls back to watch as your expression morphs with each emotion that rushes through you. The unadulterated pleasure that covers your face when your release starts to peak has his erection throbbing with want, calling for him to just hurry up and give in to what you want, but he’s set on playing with you just a little bit longer.

Slotting his thigh between yours, he presses his lips more firmly to your jaw, suckling against the flesh when you arch up into his touch, and he moans as your hip brushes against his swollen cock in an attempt grind your covered core against the thick muscle. You moan just as earnestly back at him, nails digging easily through his shirt to press crescent half moons into his skin, and you buck against him desperately as your orgasm starts to build.

Jungkook’s can feel with his hand on your side just how fast and hard your heart is beating, sweat beading in the curve of your spine where you’re arched sharply against him, and he pulls back from your jaw to shift his hand to your neck. Moaning as his hand closes around your throat, you cry out as he tugs you away from the wall and pushes you to meet the counter front on, hips finding the edge of the basin painfully as he steps up behind you.

“Bend over baby.” You do as he says hurriedly; elbows hitting the counter and lungs gasping for air at the reprieve you get when he lifts his hold on your throat and uses rushed fingers to unbutton your jeans. They don’t even make it all the way off, merely trapping your thighs and giving you even less room to work with, and soon your panties are just the same, ruining the smooth skin of your inner thighs with streaks of shiny slick.

“F-Fuck!” Somewhere past the white noise in your head, you can hear Jungkook groaning out how good it looks when he grasps the string connected to the bullet and pulls it free from your core, but you whine in protest and push back in an attempt to keep the vibe inside you.

“Look at that eager little pussy, so desperate to cum, hm?” Jungkook’s mouth meets the back of your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin just enough to have shudders wracking your spine before he nips you playfully. His words don’t register, your brain too overloaded on sensation to let you concentrate, but he doesn’t need you to tell him when you’re going to cum; it’s written all over your face.

Pulling the vibe free from your core, he lets his fingers trail over your swollen folds, the trickle of wetness following the little device dirtying his fingers and running rivulets down to where your jeans are trapping your legs. Your walls are already so receptive, swollen and pulsing from the sudden lack of stimulation, and so when he slides his digits into the soft flesh and crooks the pads of fingers into the most sensitive patch of nerves, you fall weak in his hold.

You don’t even realize it but your hips start to undulate, the need that had been building all night feeding into your desperation and leaving you with no other thought in mind but to cum. Jungkook leans back to watch you at work, hissing through his teeth when the sight of his fingers being engulfed by your puffy folds sends another painful throb through his cock.

Two fingers turns into three, and you cry out with a sharp convulsion as you keel over to press your forehead to the counter, your arousal making it so easy for his fingers to stretch you open, and you almost cry in relief at the thought that you will finally get to feel his cock as your core tightens to cum–

And then he’s gone, fingers pulled from your core and heat disappearing from behind you, and you are livid.

Whirling on your heavy feet, legs shaking and eyes turning wet with tears of frustration that you refuse to let fall, you glare heavily at Jungkook’s smug expression, turning angrier as the sight of his tongue peeking out to lick the slick from his fingers echoes a throb in your core.

All flushed cheeks and clumsy hands, you maintain your anger as you yank your jeans and panties up your thighs and fix the opening firmly shut, letting the discomfort of the way your underwear had rolled up with your harsh pulling fuel you. And then, ignoring Jungkook’s baffled expression, you pat down your hair and give yourself a quick once over in the mirror and storm from the bathroom.

The struggle that is getting through the crowded hallway to the stairs and up to the second landing, the hoards of people in your way while you’re already so on edge, ensures that by the time you do reach Jungkook’s room, you’re just as incensed as you had been when you’d left him downstairs. And true to his nature, Jungkook appears no less than 35 seconds later, slipping silently into the room and locking the door firmly before finally turning to you.

He watches with wide eyes yet barely masked amusement as you strip yourself of each item of clothing, one by one, until your panties hit the floor in a damp bundle and you’re completely bare.

Marching forwards determinedly, you refuse to be sated by the fact he steps forwards to meet you and instantly push him back to meet the door before taking his lips viciously with your own. He hums as you suck his lower lip between your teeth, helping you to peel off his jacket and separating only momentarily to discard his shirt, and then turning your positions and knocking your back into the wall.

When your hands have had their fill of the toned muscles lining his torso, and his fingers fall to the zip of his fly, you pull away from his mouth with a harsh nip against his swollen flesh, and push him down until he’s in line with your dripping heat. “Fix it.”

“Oh? And here I thought you were angry at me. But look how wet I got you with my little game, hm?” The cockiness in his eyes makes your blood boil even hotter than just your arousal, and your expressions contorts akin to a snarl, nails threatening to break through his skin.

But his grin only grows and you don’t hesitate to twist your fingers into his hair and pull his mouth to the apex of your thighs, legs buckling at the instant pleasure.

“F-fuck–ah!” Jungkook seems to sense you’re in no mood for teasing and urges your shaky leg to hook over his shoulder in order to grant him deeper access to your leaking entrance. He dives in without hesitation, suckling hard on your swollen, sensitive clit and humming in delight as your back arches sharply off the wall and your fingers pull his hair tight at the pleasure.

Your earlier orgasm doesn’t take long to arise, and you whimper pleadingly as the tips of Jungkook’s fingers part your glistening folds and sink deep within your clenching walls. You immediately push down to meet his digits, clit grazing over the front of his teeth before you lift yourself again and undulate your hips.

Jungkook releases a guttural groan as the slick sound of your walls gliding over his fingers fills the room, and you bite down heavily on your lip to contain your noises of ecstasy. The motions of your grinding against his tongue and fingers leaves his nose, cheeks and chin covered in the moisture of your pleasure, and you let your head tip back to rest against the wall as you move with even more vigor, chasing your release.

You cum with a loud squeak, the tang of iron filling your mouth as your teeth tear into the delicate flesh of your inner lip, and Jungkook easily takes over where your hips stutter and pause. Nose digging into the softer flesh below your navel, he tongues hard at your clit as he braces himself and fucks you viciously with his three drenched fingers, curling deeply into your tender gspot.

You wince momentarily at the overstimulation but quickly melt into his embrace as he drags you towards a second release; a dopey, lidded expression of ecstasy on your face even as you flush and gasp, growing lightheaded as you struggle to stand straight above him. But he’s determined, and within a minute you’re driven over the edge once more, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes and shining across your cheekbones as you tremble and shudder in his hold.

Jungkook stands, ignoring the sharp ache in his knees from the hard floor, and immediately loops an arm around your waist to hold you steady as his lips meet yours, thumb of his clean hand stroking away the moisture on your cheeks. “Better?”

“Fuck me.” He chuckles at your slurred words, pressing his lips to your cheek just gently before sucking your lip between his and pulling you from the wall.

You stumble back blindly, led by the pressure of his warm body against yours, and when the backs of your knees find the side of the mattress you fall back willingly, hair splayed around your head and bare breasts bouncing together with the force of your fall. Jungkook stands over you, lips still shining with the taste of you, and you lean up on your elbows, legs parted to invite him in, as he flicks open the fly of his jeans. The pile of denim meets the floor the same time as his knees hit the mattress behind your thighs, and your legs hook over his hips to pull him in.

“Mmf!” You moan against his mouth as his tongue twines with yours deeply, teeth nipping at the tip of your wet muscle before his own glides a wet shine across your lips, and you lick hungrily at them when he pulls away to chase any trace of his flavor left behind.

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight little pussy, baby.” The vibration of his words spoken against the inside of your knee sends sparks across you skin that break out in goose bumps and you whine petulantly with a cant of your hips against his. “Roll over, show me where you want it.”

Your limbs feel weak but you muster the energy to do as he asks quickly, snatching a pillow from the head of the bed and hugging it to your chest as you flip onto your front. The fabric muffles your next moan when his hands take a handful of each ass cheek to spread your folds wide, humming in appreciation as his breath washes over your soaked core.

A cry is ripped from your throat as his mouth finds your entrance one last time, teeth careful but firm as he grazes your labia and sucks each one between his lips before gathering all the wetness in his mouth and depositing it right against the dip of your hole. “K-Kook, please–”

“Hold your pussy open, don’t let it drip off.” Your ass smarts as his hand swats roughly against your cheek and you turn your head to the side to breathe as your arms abandon the pillow to reach back. Your nails dimple the soft flesh beside your mound as you pull each side open, and you arch your spine invitingly as you lay in wait. “Fuck, yes.”

The tip of his cock slaps wetly against your core, his hips rolling slowly as he drags the underside through the slick he’d so carefully placed, and his hands find the curves of your waist as he leans over you. You arch your back even further until you’re forced to stop by a painful twinge in your spine, and he hisses as your movements cause the head of his length to catch on your entrance with his next thrust.

No words are needed as he tilts his hips up and presses forward into your heat, the stretch warming your bones and pushing the air from your lungs as he manages to get halfway in before drawing back slowly. The second push is a lot smoother, and he quickly bottoms out with a deep groan, hips twitching with slight sensitivity as your walls wrap tight around his cock.

“S-So, big, hhngk–” The words are hard to manage with the way you’re pinned to the bed, and you think back to the first time you’d had sex with him. Just how impossible it’d seemed at the time for his large girth and length to fit inside you, but the amount of foreplay you’d endured all day meant your walls were stretched and slick, more ready for him than ever.

“I fuck you every day, and you’re still so fucking tight baby.” Jungkook lifts one hand from your waist to lean on his forearm next to your head, and the heat of his lips as they glide across your shoulder to suck bruises along the curve of your neck adds to the fire that he’s sparking deep in your abdomen. His pace fastens gradually, back curved over you to hit hard and deep, and your knees start to slip against the comforter under the force, making the tip of his cock drag hard against your gspot. “Y-You like knowing –fuck– how hard I was all night? Knowing your tight little cunt was nice and wet, just waiting to get fucked?”

“Oh my god–” Your thighs shake as the knot he’s forming in your core tightens unbearably, and your hips drop to the bed as your walls throb, release closing in on you despite how exhausted you’re becoming. “Baby–”

But Jungkook takes it in stride, shifting with barely a pause to straddle your left leg and tip you on your side, hand hooking under your right knee and pulling your leg up until your ankle hooks over his opposite shoulder. The release on your neck and chest lets you gasp for air, and your waist twists until your shoulder blades rest comfortably on the bed and you can see his glowing face clearly as he gazes down at you reverently.

“So fucking pretty.” You moan in reply as he grinds his cock deep against you before resuming his thrusting, hand returning to your waist and keeping your hips firmly in place as he drops his head a kisses you deep. Your moans mix together as you suck against the tip of his tongue, catching it as it glides across your lips, and his breath washes across your face in a cool breeze, highlighting just how flushed you must be.

“Gonna cum?” His lips brush against your cheek as you tilt your face to breathe properly, and you can barely manage a nod let alone be coherent enough to answer. “Cum for me, w-wanna feel you, beautiful.”

“G-gukk–ah!” Your hips jerk as he sits back once more, freeing up his arm and allowing him to press a quickly tongue-slicked thumb to your clit, and your body overloads in pleasure. Each muscle burns in protest at the force with which your orgasm shoots through you, and just like each joint in your body, your walls lock tightly against his length and push him to release quickly.

“M’ gonna c-cum! Can I–can I cum in your mouth?” You moan wantonly with overstimulation as his cock swells with his impending orgasm and nod eagerly, wanting desperately to watch him release. You pull your leg down from where it’s propped up against his torso just in time to give him room to leap from between your thighs, and by the time your tongue drops just past your lips and your hands press against the backs of his thighs for encouragement, he’s already pumping hard at his cock as drops of release hit your mouth.

Moaning heavily through his nose with rushed, high pitched pants of exertion, Jungkook’s kiss-swollen lips stretch in a pleased smile as he slows his hand, wiping the last beads of release at his tip against your lips like gloss and tapping just enough times to make you fix him with a playful glare.

“A work of art.” You swallow thickly while rolling your eyes, licking your lips clean and furrowing your brows as the thick liquid passes through your throat, and Jungkook drops down beside you with a groan, sweaty skin sticking to yours uncomfortably.

Now you’re relaxing the sounds of the party filter back to you, and you briefly wonder if anyone might’ve heard the two of you, but exhaustion takes over faster than you can care, and you push him out of your way as you drag yourself back up the bed to slip beneath the covers. “Baby?”

“Mm?” Jungkook looks up from where he’s leaning down to grab clean underwear out of the draw beside the bed, one of his big, oversized tshirts already in hand for you.

“Go get me a drink.” He stares at you blankly for a moment before looking down at his naked self and returning your gaze once more.

“Are you serious?” You smile, eyes drifting shut as you nuzzle further into the pillow with a shrug and stretch your aching legs under the covers. “Babe, I’m naked.”

“You’re the one that wanted to come in my mouth, hun.” Jungkook huffs and complains all through redressing himself into his jeans and shirt from earlier, trying hard to make his hair not seem so freshly sex mussed and with one last glance at you, slips from the room with a loud groan.

“If the sex wasn’t so good I swear–”

“Mmhm.”

[starboyholland]

Home Sweet Home: Baby Driver Imagine.

Summary: The one where it storms and you end up with Baby offering you a key to his apartment after a crazy day.

Rating: PG- this is all fluff, I don’t think there’s even any cursing?? I don’t know for certain if I’m being honest.

Requested: Yes! Thanks, @rory-is-in-ravenclaw , hope you like it!! I used all the prompts you sent me, and they should be in bold, if not just know they’re there somewhere! Enjoy!

Requests are open by the way so feel free to send in any kind of request!

...

It had started to rain before you had even entered the coffee shop you and Baby always frequented together.

You gabbed two cups of coffee, one for you and one for Baby, the sirens that signaled a serious storm were going off, a thick blanket of dark clouds had layered over they typically blue sky above you head as you walked out. The clerk in the coffee shop had asked if you wanted to wait out the storm inside but you assured them that your apartment wasn’t far and that you would make it home with no trouble. It had been raining before you had even stepped foot into the shop, but by the time you had reached a point about two streets away, it was down-pouring, or at least that’s what it felt like. You hunched over, hair heavy and wet with rain and your skin prickling with cold, glistening as you became more and more soaked due to the precipitation.

You passed Baby’s apartment complex, the street abnormally clear because of the weather- you decided to try and seek shelter with your boyfriend before attempting to walk all the way back to your home which felt farther and farther away with every step you took. From this side of the building you could see that his light was on and you decided to take your chances in hopes that Baby was home. You hadn’t heard from him much today and figured he was at “work”.

You knew what he did and why he couldn’t text you all the time because of it, but you couldn’t help but wish things were different, Baby had promised you countless times that once he got out he would do anything it took to stay out- for Joe, for you, and for himself.

You trekked into the building, you shivered once the air conditioning hit you, cold enough to compensate for the heat that typically plagued the area this time of year. Clearly  nobody had been expecting a summer  storm of these proportions today. You ascended the stairs to Baby’s apartment, not trusting the dated elevator when things were already crazy enough as they were.

You clutched both cups in your hands, balancing one in your arm to leave a hand free to knock once you reached Baby’s door. You knew the number but had never been inside, you knocked gently, maybe too gently, as nobody came to the door. Maybe you just hadn’t been heard though the door. You called out for Baby, pressing your forehead to the door, you were so tired and the last thing you wanted to do was go back outside into the storm, you could hear hail pounding against the roof of the building along with the whoosh of strong winds. You hoped that Baby was home and not in the storm.

You walked back down the stairs, defeated and nervous about reentering the storm. the sirens seemed to have gotten louder in your absence and you warily climbed the fire escape stairs, just wanting to find convenient shelter from the dangerous weather. The coffee cups barely warmed your hands now and you drank yours quickly, enjoying the temporary warmth that it provided.

Reaching the back door of Baby’s apartment, you were lucky that his apartment had a door directly to the fire escape. you knew he had wanted this just in case of emergency so that he could get his foster father Joe to safety as soon as possible.

You gently knocked on the window but you knew your tapping would only sound like the white noise of the storm. you leaned against the window, unsure of what to do. your phone had died minuets before you had reached the coffee shop. Suddenly, the window pane gave way and you yelped as you found yourself propelled halfway in Baby’s apartment, the top part of the pane had swung inwards, the bottom half remaining solid.

You had forgotten until now about Baby complaining that no matter how many times he filed to get it fixed, his window remained broken.

You gingerly swung the pane back around so it rotated into the apartment, so that you could crawl in through the bottom half, swinging in half of you body at a time.

You landed with a slight thud, your shoes made a squishing sound due to the fact that they were saturated with rain, you took a deep breath, thanking the universe that Baby’s window stretched to just a few feet above the floor.

You left your coffee cup outside since it was empty, telling yourself you would collect it later. Who you assumed was Joe swung his chair around, noticing the vibrations fro the window shifting in the frame, and the rain that poured in from the outside as well as the daft of cool air. His eyes widened as he saw you, and he began to clamber for the thick white phone that sat on the small table beside him. you held up both of your palms after putting Baby’s cup on the ground to close the window as best you could.

Joe was clearly  in the middle of dialing a number, his hands shaking so hard that it delayed his process. You waved your arms to get his attention, gingerly drawing yourself closer to his chair His eyes were wide and you could tell that he was thinking of how to deal with an intruder in his home. You quickly tried to remember the sin for “friend” you interlocked your two index fingers together at the top knuckle to signal you were a friend and planned to do no harm.

Joe suddenly stopped, taken aback by the fact that you knew he primarily communicated through sign language, and that you were tying to think of more signs to communicate with. you continued to sign the word friend over and over, hoping it was clear, Joe just nodded, and you put your palms upwards in the bends of your elbows and rocked them from side to side gently- tying to think of a more official sign for Baby. Joe seemed to understand and put the phone down. You sighed with relief. Joe looked at you questioningly, and you communicated as best you could that it was storming out and that’s the sole factor that brought you here. Joe held up a finger to explain to wait where you were for a moment and you obeyed as he wheeled to where you assumed was a kitchen area, rummaging around for a pen and paper. He delivered them to you and waited expectantly as you wrote.

I am so so sorry to come in like this. I won’t do it again I promise.  I hope I didn’t scare you too bad, it’s storming really bad outside and I couldn’t make it to my house so I came here because I’m a friend of Baby’s, I can leave if you like, sorry again. My name is YN.

Rain dripped from every surface of your body above the waist as you wrote onto the paper, you handed the pad and pen back to Joe who sat patiently, examining your every move. He read over your note before scrawling out one of his own. Joe knew the name- your name was extremely familiar. Baby had brought you up every day since you met- Joe knew you wee the reason Baby sang and danced around the house.

You know Baby from work?

You shook your head.

No but I now what his work is like, trust me I want him to leave as much as he tells me you do.

Joe smiled at this message and nodded.

Good. I’m Joe, Baby’s dad.You can stay. Baby should be home in a while, I just sit around here with the TV. Baby’s room will have dry clothes you can put on before you flood our living room.

you laughed slightly at the joke and nodded, smiling thankfully down at Joe, walking back to the window to pick up Baby’s cup of coffee and put it in the microwave you found in the in the kitchen.

coffee for Baby, its cold now but I put it in the microwave anyway. I’m going to get changed now, thank you and sorry again

you signed a thank you, putting you fingertips to your chin and moving them straight slightly in Joe’s direction. He just nodded with a smile, waving his hands to signal that all had been forgiven. You walked down a short hallway where you peeked your head into a room with posters of musicians and cars all over the walls.

You entered and found a heap of clothes sat on a chair. You closed the door and stripped down to your bra and underwear, wringing out your hair with your slightly dryer tee-shirt before pulling it up and out of your face, changing into a pair of basketball shorts and a long sleeve shirt with numbers on the font of it.

You found a dry towel hanging on the back of Baby’s door and wiped up the puddles you  had left throughout the house. When you were finished, you found blankets stacked on the couch and figured Joe had left them there for you while you were out of the room. You smiled, signing ��thank you” again to Joe, to which he replied with his typical wave of the hands and gentle smile.

The two of you watched TV, every once in a while writing each other notes, mostly commentary on your programming preferences and when Baby should be home. Joe got comfortable fast, knowing you were no threat to him or his son in any way. 

so do you ever knock, YN? Joe teased via the pad, you blushed and nodded. Always, except for when it feels like some apocalyptic storm is going on you joked back.

Little did the two of  you know, Baby had seen the window from outside and knew that it was slightly different from the way that he had left it, he had raced up the stairs and as you and Joe were sharing a laugh at  punchline on the TV, Baby burst in, headphones out and flailing around out of his pocket, he grabbed a bat from under the coffee table and began to survey the scene in front of him- his two favorite people sitting around together, bundled up in blankets. Baby felt silly for instantly jumping to the wrong conclusions, assuming the worst had happened and Doc had followed through on one of his many threats.

You and Joe shared an expression that featured wide eyes and mouths slightly ajar, shaken by the sudden noise and action from Baby. All three of you simultaneously relaxed, Baby discarding the bat gently under the table, slowly standing up to face the two of you again, a blush rising from his neck and his expression sheepish. His father and the love of his life still calming their breathing. “Well, this is awkward,” the three of you laughed, still breathing heavier than normal. Baby put his keys in his pocket, putting a hand on your knee and one on Joe’s leg, kneeling between the couch where you sat and Joe’s chair.

“Sorry, guys, I just assumed the worst when I saw the window was out of place”. He explained, you bent down to put your face close to his as you embraced him with both arms over his shoulders. “It’s okay, just glad you’re not outside right now,”

you looked at the window and although it was long past dark you could tell that the storm was gone. You were happy that any conflict that could possibly happen between the three of you was seemingly long gone. The back of your mind couldn’t let go of how much you hated that Baby lived a lifestyle where keeping a bat near the door for protection seemed necessary. Baby embraced you in return, a hand stroking you hair gently,thumb right beneath where you hair was gathered together on top of your head.

You hated that you guys lived lifestyles where it made sense to keep things like a baseball bat easy to access for protection. Baby was still apologizing apologizing profusely,abruptly pausing to ask the question you knew was coming: "how'd you even get in here?"

You flushed at the memory, embarrassed  that you’d broken into your boyfriend’s apartment. You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. "I came in through the window," Baby laughed slightly, nodding. "Why'd you come in? I mean you know I'm glad you're here you know you're always welcome here what's mine is yours-" you cut him off by bringing a hand up to gently touch his face, interrupting his rambling.

"It was getting dark outside, there was a storm warning- sirens and stuff, your house was closer than mine, I went to get us coffee but that was a while ago and yours is in the microwave but I'm sure it's cold now," You cut yourself off, feeling yourself stat to ramble as Baby had just a second ago. Baby's face contorted into concern- looking from you to Joe. He signed to Joe and you could only pick up that he was sorry for being gone so long and something about safety and storms and work and how he was sorry again. He knelt by Joe and continued to sign when Joe cupped his hands over Baby's and shook his head and smiled, gently stopping his son from signing temporarily. Baby wrapped his arms around Joe’s shoulders before turning back to you.

"I'm really, really glad you came here, you can stay as long as you want, please stay at least until the storm is over," his eyes scanned over you again and his brows furrowed slightly, head tilting while his mouth turned up into a smirk. "Is that my shirt?"

You nodded, looking down at yourself even though you knew what you were wearing. "I put my clothes in your dryer, they should be dry by now and I'll get these washed up," you said, pulling gently at the shirt and shorts you'd borrowed from Baby's room to accentuate your point.

"No, keep them as long as you want, really, they look better on you anyway, babe" you could feel a warmth creeping up your face from your neck that spread to the tips of your ears, smiling.

"Did you get caught in the storm?" Baby questioned, noticing your wet hair that'd been pulled up. "Just a little, it was sprinkling as I was walking in to get our drinks and it started to get nasty as I was leaving so I ducked in here to get out of it for a minuet, I would've texted you that I was here but I couldn't find a charger for my phone, sorry again for breaking in, just got a bit freaked out with the sirens, y'know?"

Baby shook his head, walking over to you. "I feel like an idiot, I had my music going so loud I didn't even know there were sirens," he sighed. "I'm sorry, YN, and please don't be sorry you know I wouldn't mind if you broke down the door to come in, I could get you a key?" Your eyes widened, this was a big step.

Baby's eyes widened too and you could tell his own suggestion had come out sooner than he'd expected, "I don't know if it's too soon, I don't want to force it on you, you don't have to I have an extra though and you can have it, or I could make you a copy- fuck, you know I'm not used to this, just- what's mine is yours, okay? You're welcome here, I know it's not a castle but I hope you feel at home," he was rambling again.

"I would love a key, my love, don't worry I love being here, sorry the first time had to be like this," you said. Baby sighed in relief, holding you close to his chest, arms around your waist, massaging your back.

"Are you hungry? I can go out and get something, it's not storming out now so bad," Baby suggested, glancing out the window that you'd come through earlier. Even though it was relatively safe for him to enture out, you’d missed him and would prefer for him to stay in with you and Joe. He signed the question to Joe, you recognized the sign for hunger and food, you loved how Baby had done everything to bring you into his life, including teaching you how to best communicate with his father. You knew baby had picked up on your opinion by the way your face had shaped when he brought up going out.

Joe nodded, signing something about safety and raised his eyebrows at Baby as if to emphasize his point. Baby smiled and just nodded, grabbing his keys from where he'd dropped them before and placed them softly on the table near his door. "Alright, I'll be back really soon, you two have fun and try not to get too crazy," Baby joked, talking and signing at the same time as he walked backwards towards the kitchen, shooting you a signature wink and a smile. After Baby had left to the kitchen to make some food for all of you, you sighed with contentment.

You sat back down on the couch in front of Joe. You picked up the pad, "he's great, isn't he?" Joe grinned and nodded, taking the pad and pen gently from your hands. "He's lucky to have you as a friend" he winked, alluding to the fact that you and Baby were indisputably more than friends. You grinned, so glad to have the approval of your boyfriend's family. You sunk into the couch, pulling a blanket around you after handing an extra one to Joe, both of you flipping through the channels on the slightly fuzzy T.V., you felt secure knowing Baby was just a room away, already feeling at home in the space.

You could get used to this.

Baby returned with three plates balanced on his arms lie a waiter in a cartoon, handing one to his father and another one to you, he also handed you a cord:

“Here’s for your phone, ‘as in the kitchen drawer for some reason,” he laughed and you went to the wall to plug in your phone at an outlet, relieved that it seemed to be fine even after your walk in the rain.

Returning to the couch, you cuddled up close so your body as nearly flush with that of your boyfriend’s on the couch beneath the blankets as you both ate. Baby placed a gentle kiss you your head, shoulder and cheek, clearly glad to be with you. “My little breaker and enterer,” he cooed with a laugh, you just rolled your eyes, knowing that he would not be forgetting this any time soon.

[ohdizzy]

Tie Me Down

Pairing: Taehyung/Yoongi (Side! Jimin/Jeongguk) Rating: Mature Genre: AU, Kidnapping AU (oh my god), Comedy, Semi-Crack, Romance, Word count: 12,000+ Chapter: 2/2 Summary:

“I’ve just woken up with a fucking splitting headache, to find myself fucking taped to an office chair in a fucking living room that smells like unwashed socks and takeaway food. How am I? How do you think I fucking am?”

“Wow. That’s a lot of f-bombs you’re dropping. Did anyone tell you that you need a healthy dose of positivity?”

In which Yoongi’s life is a parody of Taken and Taehyung is just trying his goddamn hardest not to get arrested.

(“You know, when I think of being kidnapped I think of being trapped and hopeless in a desolate warehouse or something. Seeing as I’m secured to an office chair with scotch tape in what looks to be your living room, I can’t help but be a bit underwhelmed.” AU)

Read at: ao3, or under the cut!

It starts off as an uncomfortable pressure in his temple but slowly worsens until the pounding in Yoongi’s head is so severe he wonders if this is how he’ll die—nursing a hangover the size of a continent with a mouth that tastes like unwashed ass.

He pries his eyes open with much difficulty given his current situation and position, and begins to come to the belated realization that:

First and foremost, he is not in his own bedroom. Yoongi knows this because there’s no way he’d be stupid enough to sleep with his curtains open. Besides, he doesn’t even have curtains—especially curtains that are the most hideous shade of green Yoongi’s ever had the displeasure of looking at.

Secondly, he’s butt-fucking-naked. Which, again, is unusual because Yoongi sleeps with at least two layers of clothes on every night because he’s the type that gets cold easily. Which leads him to the last—and possibly most alarming—realization:

There is something—no, someone—lying on top of him. Yoongi isn’t necessarily weak, but he’s not, like… strong. But this person is fucking heavier than your average laptop (which is pretty much the heaviest thing Yoongi has to carry) and Yoongi lowkey feels like he’s being smothered to death. Besides, this person, judging by the fact that their shoulder is currently squishing his left-eye shut whilst their legs are still firmly intertwined with Yoongi’s, is probably at least half a head taller than Yoongi.

Yoongi takes these three things into consideration, puts two and two together and gets five and,

“Oh my god. I had sex.”

It looks like Yoongi has well and truly returned to his former glory days.

“It was great sex,” someone replies sleepily, startling Yoongi. “My ass is so sore right now.”

Yoongi is known to be a little restless in the morning, especially after he’s had a lot to drink, so it’s definitely not his fault if he lets out a loud shout of surprise, completely shoving the body on top of him off him.

Yoongi’s underestimated his own strength because one minute the heavy body is on top of him, and suddenly—freedom. Yoongi’s staring at his own butt-naked body, covered head to toe in scratches and bites and hickeys (goddamn it must’ve been good sex) for a long second before he diverts his attention to a similarly butt-naked Taehyung.

Taehyung.

Oh god.

He’s broken the number one golden rule he’s lived by for the past four years: never, under any circumstance, fuck a friend (or, the FAF as he likes to call it). Because fucking a friend makes things awkward and complicated and creates unnecessary drama and feelings and is basically just one, huge clusterfuck that just isn’t Yoongi’s bliss.

Besides, it’s Taehyung. Taehyung, the boy who sends Yoongi twelve pictures of himself trying on different berets at some department store; Taehyung, who texts him disgustingly adorable good morning text messages with a million grammatical mistakes and a billion emojis.

Taehyung, who, Yoongi is pretty sure, is probably the subject of approximately 78% of Yoongi’s thoughts, and the very same Taehyung who Yoongi wants to kiss the fucking daylights out of. So yeah. Consider him fucked (quite literally and figuratively).

Taehyung blinks up at him from the floor, a hand splayed protectively over Little Taehyung.

“Wow,” Taehyung says. “That was unnecessary, but okay. Thank you for that.”

Every bone in Yoongi’s body is aching and his head is screaming, but there’s just something ridiculous about the situation that makes Yoongi laugh. He tries to repress it, of course—he doesn’t wanna look like a fucking ass in front of the person he would 134% bone (correction: did bone. Oh god, Yoongi is so fucked). But Taehyung just looks so affronted he can’t stop the unattractive snort that escapes his lips. Taehyung just looks more offended, which in turn, just makes Yoongi laugh more, and soon Yoongi’s laughing so hard there are literal tears streaking down his face.

Taehyung’s offended expression slowly morphs into a grin as the situation dawns on him and he starts to laugh too. Soon enough there are two, butt-naked people laughing hysterically, although the reason why remains unknown between them. It takes a while for them to calm down, with Yoongi feebly attempting breathing exercises to calm down his laughter.

“Did we really, y’know…”

He gestures between the two of them.

Taehyung snorts. “Fuck? Well, judging purely by the fact that both of us are naked as hell—as well as the fact that my ass is literally throbbing, I’d say hell yeah we did. High five?”

“I’m not fucking high fiving you, what the fuck.”

“Aw. Why not?” Taehyung pouts. Yoongi resists the urge to high five him.

“Because,” Yoongi hesitates. “I broke my number one rule. I never fuck friends.”

“What? That’s so lame, boo. Let me guess. You only fuck strangers and lovers? God, you’re so teen angst. I can’t handle you sometimes, Yoongi.”

“It’s fucking weird!” Yoongi exclaims, sitting up. “How can you stick your dick into someone and then joke about shit afterwards? It’s weird and makes things awkward as hell!”

“Easy! Having sex with friends is the best. You know why?” Taehyung asks. When Yoongi remains impassive, Taehyung sighs. “That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Why.”

“Because with strangers you can’t try out weird things that you want to because you fuck them once and then it’s over. And with boyfriends, it’s so… serious. Like, staring deep into each other’s eyes and slow-fucking missionary all the time, y’know? Friends are so much more fun. No strings attached, boom.”

“Okay, I’m not sure what kind of boyfriends you’ve had in the past but I don’t…stare deep into my lover’s eyes and slow-fuck them missionary style all the time. Where do you even—okay, that doesn’t even matter. Besides, what if you catch feelings for your friend? Then it just turns into a huge fucking mess.” Yoongi doesn’t point out that he, in fact, may be harbouring a teeny, tiny crush on Taehyung.

“Have you ever actually caught honey nut feelios for a friend you’ve had sex with?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi thinks about it, frowning. “Uh—no. But that’s because I’ve never had sex with a friend—because I’ve never broken my rule.”

“See? You’re being weird about it. I think you’ve seen way too many shitty chick flicks, Yoongs.”

Taehyung pauses as if an idea has just popped in his head, before his face lights up in a familiar way that stirs a strange feeling in Yoongi’s stomach. Yoongi’s seen that face way too many times before. It means that something’s about to happen, something that Yoongi won’t be able to stop and will probably end up regretting not being able to do so. Very much.

Taehyung climbs back up onto the bed, swinging his leg around so that he’s straddling Yoongi’s hips. Yoongi can very much feel Taehyung’s dick on his. This is Very, Very Bad. Yoongi should sucker punch Taehyung right off his dick and back into the seventh circle of Hell where he belongs.

Wearing a silly grin on his face, Taehyung leans down and sloppily kisses Yoongi, catching him off guard. Taehyung’s mouth tastes as bad as Yoongi’s mouth feels but he can’t really focus on that, not when Taehyung’s hands are slowly sliding up into Yoongi’s hair, not when he’s steadily grinding on Yoongi’s dick in a way that feels so fucking good.

Taehyung breaks the kiss, smirking when Yoongi automatically chases his lips.

“Do you want me to show you the best kind of sex, Min Yoongi?”

Taehyung sounds like something out of a C-grade porno and Yoongi should find it cringey and off-putting. Instead, Yoongi finds himself hardening under Taehyung’s skillful hips and he licks his lips at the mischief and lust in Taehyung’s eyes. His eyes flit down to Taehyung’s lips, where his tongue pokes out, wetting his soft lips.

Fuck yeah he does.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” Yoongi asks, two hours later.

He’s lying in bed, the now soiled sheets covering up his bottom half. His legs feel like jell-o and his head is throbbing harder than ever, but Yoongi doesn’t give a damn, not when he’s basking in the afterglow of three consecutive orgasms (three!).

Taehyung slowly stands up, stretching (his goddamn fucking naked body) in front of Yoongi like there’s absolutely nothing wrong with seeing a friend’s soft dick. There’s something about this whole absurd situation, though, that is just so domestic—and Yoongi should hate it, honestly. But he doesn’t.

“Not really,” Taehyung bends down, scooping a shirt off the floor. He sniffs it gingerly before shucking it on. He throws Yoongi a pair of random basketball shorts. “You? Here, wear these.”

“Thanks.” Yoongi staggers up to slide them on. It feels kind of weird, letting his manhood just dangle freely. Strange, but liberating. “I literally don’t remember anything.”

Taehyung’s shoving a red cap onto his head, tucking the messy strands under the cap. “Do you wanna get dessert?”

Yoongi stares at him. “Tae, it’s like, 9AM.”

“C’mon, hyungie!” Taehyung waggles his eyebrows. Yoongi snorts, rolling his eyes, before shucking on his shirt from the night before. It has a suspicious stain down the front but Yoongi’s just going to ignore that for now. “You want… pancakes? Hmm?”

Pancakes does sound appealing to Yoongi’s hungover ass. Taehyung must have read the hesitation on Yoongi’s face because he goes in for the kill, bounding over to Yoongi and pushing his face much too close to Yoongi’s for comfort.

“C’mon. I gave you three orgasms. I took your dickings like a champ,” Taehyung complains loudly.

“Ugh, gross, Tae. Your breath smells like something died in your mouth,” Yoongi says, wrinkling his nose and pushing Taehyung’s laughing face away. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it. And I’m still feeling weird about this whole thing. So stop bringing it up.”

“Yeah, your sperm died in my mouth,” Taehyung cackles, Yoongi chokes on his spit. “All those possible babies you could’ve made. My mouth is a graveyard.”

“You fucker I—oh my god, I’m—”

“And it’s not weird! How many times do I have to say that? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the fact that you were balls deep in me several times. Besides, you loved it. ‘Oh yeah, Tae, you look so fucking good, you fu—’”

“Oh my god, just. Shut up. Please.” Yoongi covers his face in embarrassment.

Yoongi wonders if it’s too much to ask for a huge abyss to open up and swallow him whole. His parents would be sad, but he’s sure they’ll understand given the circumstances.

Taehyung pats his shoulder. “It’s okay, Yoongi. I’m sure as time goes on you’ll get less weird about it every time we do the freaky.”

Woah, okay. Time to back the fuck up.

“Every time? What makes you think there’ll ever be a second time?”

Taehyung looks at Yoongi like he had just spoken to him in Greek. “Um. Because? The sex was bomb, and you’re crazy if you think I’m going to pass Go without collecting my two million. Duh.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you? Yoongles, I’m not giving up that bomb dick game of yours just because you have weird teen angst about it.”

“Oh my god just—just shut up. Oh my god. Let’s just go get the goddamn pancakes.”

(Spoiler alert: Taehyung’s right.)

hobi uhhhhh where the fuck are u 12.14pm

hobi u never came home last night and u still haven’t come home yet 12.14pm

hobi OH MY GOD…….does that mean……that possibly….u had a one night stand 12.15pm

hobi MY MIN SNAIL, OUT GETTING LAID, IM BLESSDT 12.15pm

hobi

12.15pm

Yoongi Why is it that the first thing you think of is me getting laid? What if I had been brutally murdered? 12.20pm

hobi um don’t say shit like that wtf that’s so freaky wtf and besides you’re replying to me which means you haven’t been brutally murdered so THERE 12.20pm

hobi WHERE ARE YOUUUU i’m home alone n bored 12.21pm

Yoongi I’m getting breakfast with a friend 12.24pm

hobi oh my god 12.26pm

hobi first of all, u nEVER eat breakfast and SECOND OF ALL, “””FRIEND”””????? IS YOUR ASS LITERALLY SRS?????? 12.27pm

Yoongi Omg chill it’s just Taehyung we’re getting pancakes I’ll be home soon 12.30pm

hobi JUST??? TAEHYUNG??????? lol alright tell yourself that 12.30pm

hobi you don’t even LIKE pancakes like wyd 12.30pm

hobi wait what he fukc 12.30pm

hobi does that mean 12.30pm

Yoongi Don’t you fucking dare 12.32pmm

hobi HOLY FUKC OH MY FFUCKING GOD WAIT UNTIL NAMJOON AND SEOKJIN HYUNG EHAR ABOUT THIS FIUUUUU HAHAHAHAHDHSIAK 12.33pm

“Why do you two always show up at our apartment,” Yoongi complains as Seokjin and Namjoon settle back comfortably on his sofa like it’s their own, sipping Yoongi’s imported beer (that he had specifically been saving for when he has a long day and needs to kick back and relax) beatifically.

“Your sofa is stupidly comfortable,” Namjoon says with a serene smile on his face.

Yoongi scowls. “That’s your own fault for buying the stupidest furniture ever. Literally all your chairs are made of wire.”

“It’s Avant Garde! You wouldn’t understand,” Namjoon sniffs.

Hoseok makes an amused noise as he shifts through their vast DVD collection in a bid to find The Dark Knight. “He loves it when you come over, don’t worry.”

“I do not.”

“Anyways,” Seokjin interrupts, steering the conversation into safer waters. “Where were you two last night?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon intercedes. “We went over to your house because we got bored studying and you guys weren’t home. Hoseok I can understand, but hyung, you’re always home.”

Hoseok frowns. “What time? I was home last night.”

“Around maybe seven-ish?”

“Oh. I think I was grocery shopping then. Yoongi hyung wasn’t home all day, I think. Actually, coming to think of it, where were you?”

Yoongi’s scowl deepens. “You guys are worse than my parents. I was studying at the library during the day, and then later that night Tae wanted to go to the open cinema they have on campus on Thursday nights.”

“But Yoongi,” Seokjin looks puzzled. “You hate open cinemas, on the account of that one time you fell asleep with your mouth open and a mosquito bit your tongue.”

Namjoon smothers a laugh behind his hand when Yoongi glares.

“Yeah, well, that was like, what. Four years ago?” Yoongi says sharply, sniffing disdainfully.

“It was actually two months ago, but okay. Alright,” Hoseok says smugly. “Whatever you say, hyung.”

Hoseok wiggles his way onto the end of the sofa after setting up the movie, effectively sandwiching Yoongi between Namjoon and Seokjin. Trying to fit four grown men onto a two-seater couch is definitely not Yoongi’s idea of comfort and he makes sure to voice this opinion loudly, several times. Just so they don’t miss the memo. But of course, as always, Yoongi’s friends are assholes and don’t give a damn, Seokjin even going a step further and resting his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.

The movie starts and the four of them settle down and watch the movie, but Yoongi finds that he can’t find himself concentrating. Not when he and Taehyung watched this very movie just last week, and not when all Yoongi can think about is Taehyung mimicking the joker’s why so serious? in poor, broken English.

Yoongi doesn’t realize that a stupid, sappy smile has taken over his face and that he’s staring at the Joker in such fashion until Namjoon points it out in a small voice.

“Shit, sorry,” Yoongi clears his throat, rearranging his face back into his usual blank stare. “I was just thinking of the time Taehyung was copying the Joker. He’s so dumb when he does it, but it’s pretty funny. And his voice is stupidly deep too, so there’s that.” Yoongi tacks on unnecessarily. What he’s just said catches up to him a second later and Yoongi clamps his mouth shut so he doesn’t say any more stupid shit.

There’s an awkward silence between the four of them for a second.

“You know,” Seokjin says slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “You sure have been hanging around him a lot these days.”

“No I haven’t,” Yoongi frowns. “I barely ever see him.”

“Oh please,” Namjoon snorts. “Literally once a day I send you my obligatory, hyung, lets meet up Katalk message and five times out of seven you’ll reply, sorry can’t, hanging out with Taehyung.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok jumps in, ignoring Yoongi’s weak protests. “When you’re not hanging out with him, then you’re always on your phone talking to him or messaging him. And when you’re not doing that, then it’s always hey Seok-ah, look at this photo Taehyung sent me, look how dumb he looks.”

“And are we going to forget about the fact that Yoongi and Taehyung go at it like rabbits all the time? Yoongi’s breaking the FAF rule that he used to be so adamant on keeping. Like, whaaat?”

“Yeah! I got sexiled four times last week. Four!”

“Why the fuck are you all ganging up on me,” Yoongi protests. “So what if I’ve been hanging around him?”

Namjoon laughs loudly, covering his mouth with his hands. “Oh my god, hyung it’s almost like you’re—”

Seokjin silences Namjoon effectively with a stare and suddenly Yoongi’s glad for Seokjin’s existence. He’s always known, that out of the three, Seokjin’s always the one who has his back. Seokjin is the best. Seokjin for president.

“Guys, leave Yoongi alone.” Yoongi smirks at Hoseok and Namjoon who look properly chastised. Then Seokjin continues, “So what if Yoongi has a crush on Taehyung?”

The three of them don’t laugh (otherwise Yoongi may not have been able to control his fists, knuckle and sandwich) but they do exchange knowing, smug smiles.

“I don’t have a fucking crush!” Yoongi jumps from his spot on the sofa, whirling around to point an accusing finger at all three of them, stomping his foot in anger. “You—you fucking immature—immature… brats!”

And on that dramatic note, Yoongi storms off to his bedroom, slamming the door loudly so that they can hear that he is Most Definitely Not Pleased.

Much to his disappointment, they don’t come groveling at his door for his forgiveness. Instead, he can hear them howling in laughter.

Fuckers. All of them.

Yoongi stares down at his worksheet in growing agitation, clicking his pen furiously. These. Goddamn. Algorithms.

He can feel the burn of the glare from the girl sitting one table down boring into his skull, and he’s sorry, he honestly is, because he’s not usually a Library Asshole. A normal asshole, sure, but never a Library Asshole.

There’s a strange sense of déjà vu. Here he is, sitting in the library, at 10PM, clicking his pen angrily at the stupidest algorithms possibly to ever exist. The only difference is Taehyung is seated next to him, shooting him amused glances every so often as he types furiously away at his laptop.

(When Yoongi had taken a break he had peeked over Taehyung’s shoulder. To his immense surprise, Taehyung was sitting there, chilling like a goddamn cucumber with a serene smile on his face whilst writing about syntax and metaphors and other things Yoongi didn’t really want to think about.

“What the hell are you writing about? I thought you majored in music? Why are you—oh my god, are you doing this for fun?” With Taehyung, anything and everything seemed plausible.

Taehyung giggled. “No, what the hell. Why would I be writing a five-thousand-word essay on changga for fun?”

“Then—then why—”

“I double major in music and Literature!” Taehyung said brightly, leaning back on his chair. “I thought you knew that about me…? I swear I’ve told you this before.”

“Oh,” Yoongi replied faintly. “Double majoring. In music and Literature. Nice. Walk in the park, I assume?”

“It’s not easy, but it’s not… like… hard or anything. It’s just—” Taehyung shook his hand in a so-so motion.

“Not… hard. Okay. Alright.”)

Yoongi’s smart. He knows he is. But when he told his parents he would be doing mathematical economics in university, there was no way in fucking hell he imagined he would be trying to solve questions that started with Yangji has bought three hundred and sixty-one watermelons and fucking failing.

He supposes him not being able to solve questions like this in middle school was some sort of prediction that he would still be fucking useless at them come university. But the thing is this: he’s here to learn about mathematical economics, not figure out why the fuck Yangji decided to be a fuckwit and buy three hundred and sixty-one goddamn watermelons.

But. He supposes that not everyone can have what they want in life. And this includes himself so, he must, in fact, figure out why the fuck Yangji bought an insanely stupid amount of watermelons (and watermelons, out of all fruits. Why does it seem like the world has it in for him).

“You know what?” Yoongi says loudly throwing down his pen. He earns an amused quirk of the lips from Taehyung and a hissed shut up from the girl burning a hole through his skull. Yoongi ignores her.

“What?”

“I’m just going to quit school. I’ll become an escort or something. I know my legs are slim enough to go for that flower boy look.”

“Stop being such a diva.”

“I’m serious! What’s the point of continuing this course if I can’t even figure out why Yangji wants three hundred fucking watermelons? Like, what even?”

Taehyung giggles. “You sound stressed. Do you want a blowjob? I know you’re lowkey into exhibitionism, Yoongles. Remember that one time you f—”

“Jesus, Taehyung, keep it down.”

“Fine,” Taehyung pouts. “What about a sexy shoulder rub?”

“No, oh my god. I want to know how to get the answer for this question.”

“Do you want me to have a look at it for you?”

Yoongi doesn’t even bother concealing his scoff. This is the fucking kid who’d thought it was a good idea to kidnap him and attempt to fucking ransom him. “Taehyung, this is mathematical economics.”

“Hey!” Taehyung protests. “I was good at math in high school!”

Yoongi shoots him The Look. “Tae, this is a little different from your high school math.”

“Oh, stop acting like a wet towel and hand me the question sheet.”

Yoongi snorts. “Alright cutie, here you go then. Have a go.”

There’s a small part of Yoongi that feels a little bad for egging Taehyung on. Even if Taehyung was good at math in high school—even the best—this is fourth year mathematical economics. Taehyung doesn’t stand a chance. A small part of Yoongi feels bad, but a much larger part of Yoongi feels mean and vindictive so he sits there with a smug grin on his face, leaning back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling like some high school rebel.

Taehyung reads the question once, twice, three times, and Yoongi kinda just wants to tell Taehyung to give up, but decides to let him suffer a little more before pulling him out of his misery.

“Yoongi, do you have an example of these kinds of questions?”

Yoongi cackles inwardly. Strike One.

“Yeah sure,” he says, taking care to keep a neutral face. He hands him another sheet. “Here.”

Taehyung reads through the example, his eyes quickly scanning the page, the frown on his face deepening. Yoongi watches, already feeling a mean victory coming on, as Taehyung hunches over the paper, scribbling nonsense down furiously, before punching a few numbers into Yoongi’s calculator.

Yoongi lets Taehyung fester in his own misery for another two minutes before he starts to feel bad and decides to show some mercy.

“Tae, it’s alright if you can’t do—”

“Okay! I think I solved it. Is the answer ₩28,940 with 6.18% interest per annum?”

Yoongi laughs, patting Taehyung’s hand condescendingly. “Tae. It’s okay. You don’t have to act like you got it. Besides, the answer’s—”

He looks down at his answer sheet, his laughter stopping short. In Yoongi’s very own chicken scratch writing, is ₩28,940 w/ 6.18% p.a.  

What the flipping fuck.

Yoongi jerks his head back up to stare at Taehyung like he’s grown another head. Taehyung smiles smugly back at him, shrugging and sliding back the worksheet to Yoongi who, in dumb shock, scans the paper quickly. And there, in neatly printed writing, is Taehyung’s calculations, correct down to the very fucking T.

“I—what the fuck,” Yoongi breathes, still unable to tear his eyes away from the paper. It kind of feels like his entire world has been flipped upside down and inside out and Yoongi’s really, really unsure of how to react to this.

He’s burning with embarrassment, his cheeks flushing a dark red. Oh my god. He had acted like such an ass, too. Yoongi vaguely wonders if it’s too much to ask someone to hog-tie him and then throw him into shark infested waters. Maybe that would be able to save him from the embarrassment.

When he finally manages to drag his eyes back up to Taehyung’s form, Taehyung’s absentmindedly twirling Yoongi’s pen between his fingers over and over again, a small, knowing smile on his face.

“You know,” He starts, and Yoongi wants to crawl into a hole and stay there forever. “I’m not as stupid as you think. I know everyone thinks I’m some sort of airhead, but I’m really not.”

“How did you—”

“I told you, I was good at math in high school. What I didn’t tell you was that I did an accelerated course. I did university math in high school.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Yoongi feels like an idiot.

An example of karma at its finest, he supposes.

Yoongi’s waiting under the shade of a tree for Seokjin to come pick him up from class. The usually prompt Seokjin is fifteen minutes late on the account of running into his ex-girlfriend on campus and having to do a detour. I’ll be there in thirty, sorry Yoongi~ the text had read. Yoongi sighs.

“Yeah, and I was like fuck that and they were like fuck that and we were all like, fuck that and it was fucking wild, bro.”

Yoongi perks up at the familiar voice, swiveling around on the spot and lo and behold, it’s Jeongguk looking excited as he walks slowly, kicking his feet along the dirt floor, one hand cradling his phone and the other gesturing wildly in the air.

“Hey—Jeongguk!”

Jeongguk looks up, eyes searching. When they fall on Yoongi his lips stretch up into a grin and he waves enthusiastically, making his way over to Yoongi.

“Hyung!” Jeongguk greets once he’s standing next to Yoongi, his phone still cradled in his hand. “Hey, I’ll call you back later, idiot. I’m busy talking to your significant other.” Jeongguk pauses for a second before laughing loudly. “Yeah, alright. Cya.”

He hangs up the call, shoving his phone into his back pocket peering curiously at Yoongi, who’s managed to turn a brilliant shade of scarlet in less than two seconds.

“Who was that on the phone?” Yoongi manages.

Jeongguk grins smugly. “Why, it was your significant other, hyung! Taetae!”

It might be the intense embarrassment Yoongi’s feeling, or all the pent-up shock Yoongi feels over The Big Reveal (or: the incident at the library Yoongi never wants to bring up again) but he takes one look at Jeongguk’s annoyingly cute, smug-ass face and blurts out, “Why didn’t you tell me Taehyung was a genius?”

Jeongguk’s expression melts into confusion, his eyebrows coming together. “Huh?”

“Why… why do you—you always call Taehyung an idiot when he’s obviously not,” Yoongi finishes lamely.

There’s silence for two, long, agonizing seconds before there’s a moment of understanding.

“Well… yeah, I know he’s not,” Jeongguk says like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “I’m just being ironic. Anyone who knows Taehyung knows that he’s literally a genius. He just makes stupid choices sometimes, but he’s not stupid. Everyone knows that.”

“Oh right. Yeah,” Yoongi quickly agrees, nodding along.

“Why do you suddenly ask?” Jeongguk asks curiously, peering at Yoongi with those big-ass eyes.

Yoongi, unable to say anything—how can he? Oh sorry, I thought your best friend was an airhead this whole time and probably made him feel stupid as fuck?—squirms uncomfortably under Jeongguk’s scrutinizing stare.

“Well… like, the thing is…”

Jeongguk’s expression darkens and he goes from looking like a curious bunny to someone who could literally knock Yoongi out in one punch. Jeongguk takes a step towards Yoongi and if Yoongi wasn’t so caught up in his guilt he would probably have been kind of annoyed at the fact that a living fetus is trying to intimidate him.

“Yeah hyung, didn’t you know?” Jeongguk asks lowly, his voice dripping with venom. “People misunderstand Taetae all the time, and he’s always getting hurt unnecessarily because of that. He knows people think he’s an airhead and he tries to brush it off like he doesn’t care, when in fact he does. So much.”

The guilt eating Yoongi up from the inside must be written all over his face because Jeongguk sighs, all the fight whooshing out of him in one go. He pats Yoongi’s shoulder gingerly.

“Hyung, it’s alright. Just don’t make the same mistake twice… oh, and hyung?”

“Yeah?”

Jeongguk’s face is uncharacteristically serious and a little sad, too.

“Don’t hurt Taehyungie. He doesn’t cope well with pain.”  

In the seven months Yoongi has had the pleasure (in Taehyung's words, not Yoongi's) of knowing Taehyung, he’s made sure Taehyung and his circle friends don’t clash with Yoongi’s circle of friends. Just thinking about it and what could possibly happen makes Yoongi shudder with horror.

Like, sure. Hoseok sees Taehyung whenever he comes over to their apartment (“Hey Hoseokie hyung!” “Hey, Taehyung! Are you here for Yoongi?” “Yeah, I’m here for sexy times.”) and sure, Hoseok knows Jimin from dance and Jeongguk because of mutual association, and but they’ve never actually hung out as a collective group and Yoongi would like to keep it like that, thank you very much.

So when Yoongi enters his apartment after a long day, looking forward to taking his pants off and drinking beer in the kitchen pantless like a real fucking man, only to find Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk sitting around his dining table drinking his beer (it’s always his fucking beer), hooting away loudly, Yoongi knows that his long day is about to get a lot, lot longer.

“What the fuck is happening,” Yoongi deadpans.

He’s honestly surprised and impressed at his ability to mask the horror and terror he feels at the sight of his friends interacting with Taehyung and his friends. It’s literally his worst nightmare (no, seriously. He had a nightmare about this a week ago). Maybe it’s time to drop his algorithms and pick up theatre.

“Yoongles!” Taehyung exclaims, jumping up and rushing over to Yoongi. He crushes Yoongi to his chest and Yoongi can feel his nose squishing flat against Taehyung’s chest. Yoongi grunts but relents to the hug, leaning into Taehyung’s touch. Taehyung’s warm and broad and smells like a mixture of laundry detergent and the cologne he wears.

When Taehyung finally lets go, he beams at Yoongi, pulling him to the dining table where the others are lounging. Jeongguk looks unperturbed by Taehyung’s clinginess but Seokjin and Hoseok look surprised. Yoongi’s not really surprised—Yoongi hates being touched affectionately, always shoving Hoseok away whenever he tries to hug Yoongi and only half-relenting to Seokjin’s hugs (but that’s only because he’s older).

But with Taehyung it’s different. It’s not like he enjoys them, but rather because even if Yoongi resists Taehyung always ends up finding a way to annoy and hug him. So Yoongi’s figured that it’s better just to hug Taehyung whenever he wants. That way, the hug will be over faster and therefore Yoongi’s suffering is also shortened. Foolproof, right?

“You didn’t tell me you had such cool friends,” Taehyung says accusingly. “I thought all your friends were going to be mean like you. I honestly thought Hoseok hyung was an outlier but Seokjin hyung is so nice, too! He invited me, Jeongguk, and Jimin over for dinner next week! We’re going to meet Namjoon hyung then! How nice is that?!”

Yoongi splutters indignantly.

“I can’t believe you held out on me Yoongi. They’re so cute,” Seokjin chides. He turns to Taehyung and Jeongguk, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You know, whenever the four of us meet, it’s always Taehyung this, Taehyung that.”

“Oh yeah,” Jeongguk jumps in, grinning widely. “You should hear Taehyungie hyung when he goes on his soap box about Yoongi hyung. Doesn’t stop waxing lyrical about his tiny cuteness.”

Yoongi’s blushing so hard he’s pretty sure his scalp is red too.

“Jeongguk!” Taehyung whines, smacking his arm.

Seokjin sighs dreamily. “They’re like the cuter versions of Hoseok and Namjoon.”

“Speaking of Namjoon, you have to meet him. You’ll love him, he’s a riot,” Hoseok says.

“Yeah! You have to meet my boyfriend Jimin, too.”

The four start speaking excitedly, voices gradually growing louder as they speak over each other. No, no, no, no, no. This isn’t happening. Yoongi’s not just going to sit there in dumb shock while his literal nightmare turns into a fucking reality. Not on Yoongi’s fucking watch.

“No,” Yoongi blurts out.

Four pairs of eyes blink at him.

“Why not?” Taehyung asks, surprised.

Oh shit. Yoongi didn’t think this far.

“Uh… because…” When Seokjin raises his eyebrows at him, he bristles defensively. “Because! Because…”

Fuck.

Taehyung smiles, patting Yoongi’s hand comfortingly. “Aw, Yoongi’s tired. Jeongguk, let’s go now. It’s pretty late. Hyung, you’re really going to invite us over for dinner, right?”

Seokjin stands up, ruffling Taehyung’s hair affectionately. “Of course. Let’s make a Katalk group chat, okay? We can sort out details there.”

As Seokjin, Jeongguk, and Hoseok make their way towards the front door chattering about the dinner, Taehyung hangs back waiting for Yoongi.

“I missed you today,” Taehyung says shyly. “I went to look for you after my classes but you weren’t in any of your usual spots.”

Yoongi swallows.

“Yeah,” he manages. “I had a few group assignments due, so we went to one of their dorms.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says again lamely. “Are—are you hungry? I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Do you wanna grab something to eat with me?”

“Now?”

“Well—yeah. If you’re not busy. If you are, that’s cool too. We have ra—”

“I’d like to.” Taehyung smiles at Yoongi and he pretends not to feel the fluttering in his stomach. Honey nut feelios—in the wise words of Taehyung—are bad, bad, bad.

Taehyung leans over to press a kiss on Yoongi’s cheek, giggling as he noses into Yoongi’s cheek after. Yoongi laughs, leaning into Taehyung’s touch and briefly closing his eyes. When he opens his eyes, Hoseok, Seokjin, and Jeongguk are staring at the two of them. Seokjin's mouth is hanging open, and Jeongguk looks somewhat disturbed, but Hoseok. Hoseok has a strange gleam in his eyes that makes Yoongi squirm awkwardly.

“We’re going to eat dinner,” Taehyung says, oblivious—or perhaps he just doesn’t care—to the weird atmosphere. “Guk, don’t wait up for me.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Jeongguk replies dryly. Taehyung fake-gasps in betrayal and Hoseok and Jeongguk laugh, breaking the strange mood.

“Yeah,” Yoongi tacks on unnecessarily. “We’re going to eat dinner. As friends.”

“Hm,” Hoseok says.

Yoongi smiles uncomfortably.

“Lets stay here for the rest of the night.” Taehyung’s voice cuts through the comfortable silence.

Yoongi shifts in bed, turning so that he’s facing Taehyung, hitching the covers up higher. There’s an unreadable expression on Taehyung’s face as he walks his fingers up and down Yoongi’s bare arm.

“I thought you had dinner plans with Jeongguk and Jimin.”

“I cancelled,” Taehyung says. He stops walking his fingers and looks up at Yoongi, the corners of his lips turned down. “I just want to be with you tonight.”

“Is everything alright?” Yoongi pinches the soft skin under Taehyung’s navel. That earns him a small smile that seems to fall as quickly as it formed. “You seem down.”

“Not really.”

Well, that much is clear to Yoongi. All day today, Taehyung had seemed distracted, eyes darting nervously and a fake smile propped up in place of the genuine, rectangle-shaped smile Yoongi has grown to love so much. And later when Yoongi had pressed Taehyung down onto his sheets, fucked into him roughly, Taehyung seemed clingier than usual, constantly pulling Yoongi down to kiss him or intertwining their fingers together.

Yoongi moves closer to Taehyung, tangling their legs together before pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “What’s wrong?”

Taehyung exhales roughly, winding his arms around Yoongi tightly and burying his face into Yoongi’s hair.

“It’s nothing, really.” His words come out muffled. “Just… do you ever feel like, just when you feel like you’re starting to get a rhythm in your life everything just has to go and fuck up? I don’t know how to explain it, but… I dunno. I guess I just feel sad. Can we stay here for the rest of the night, Yoongi?”

Yoongi swallows uneasily at the finality of Taehyung’s words. Something’s brewing inside Taehyung, and it won’t be long until it spills over.

Why, why, why, Yoongi wants to ask. So many questions, and yet, Yoongi knows that when Taehyung gets like this—evasive and quiet—he’ll get absolutely nothing out of him.

“Of course,” Yoongi says instead, hugging Taehyung closer to him and pressing down the ache in his chest. “We can stay here for as long as you want.”

TAEHYUNGIE hey yoongs 4.02pm

Yoongi Yeah 4.03pm

TAEHYUNGIE please come to my place at ur convenience 4.04pm

TAEHYUNGIE and by that i mean now 4.04pm

TAEHYUNGIE come to my place now 4.04pm

Yoongi Jeez, so demanding. Are you seriously horny right now? 4.05pm

TAEHYUNGIE no jeez not everything is about sex yoongs god ur such an animal 4.06pm

Yoongi -_- 4.08pm

Yoongi What’s happening? 4.08pm

TAEHYUNGIE secret hehe 4.09pm

TAEHYUNGIE just come and you'll find out okay 4.09pm

Yoongi Alright, fine. I’m on my way now 4.11pm

When Yoongi arrives thirty minutes later, he’s surprised to see everyone crammed into Taehyung’s tiny, one-man apartment, with Taehyung nowhere in sight.

Frowning, he sandwiches himself between Namjoon and Jimin. He turns to Namjoon.

“What are all of you doing here?”

���Wow,” Namjoon says dryly. “I’m really feeling the love.”

“Taehyungie sent us all the same message and asked us to come to his apartment,” Jimin says in place of Namjoon. “He said it was urgent.”

“Where’s Tae?”

“I’m not sure, Jeongguk and I were the first to arrive and he wasn’t here when we got here.”

At that moment, the front door swings open with a bang. The six of them jump collectively, heads swivelling towards the front door.

It’s Taehyung, dressed in an all black suit  as if he’s attending a funeral. He’s wearing a fancy hat with a net attached to the front that covers his face, as well as black silk gloves to complete his ridiculous getup. The six of them watch, stunned, as Taehyung glides into the room, drawing the curtains shut. He produces a candle (out of fuck knows where) and lights it up with an air of solemnity.

“Good evening, dearest friends. And thank you for gathering here,” he states in a low voice.

“It’s not even five yet,” Hoseok says somewhere to the left of Yoongi. Taehyung ignores him.

This entire situation is fucking ridiculous. Absolutely goddamn weird and ridiculous and Yoongi’s on the verge of rolling his eyes into oblivion. But there’s something about this entire situation that makes Yoongi feel like something really awful is going to happen. Yoongi stands up, wanting nothing more but for Taehyung to stop scaring him.

“Tae?” Yoongi’s taking a step towards Taehyung.

“I have something to announce,” Taehyung says, and it’s so stupidly goofy and ridiculous Yoongi knows Taehyung’s going to say something fucked up. He’s going to say something and it’s going to be true and it’s going to fuck everything up.

“I swear if you lost all your laundry again I am going to murder you,” Jimin says.

“I received a scholarship!” Taehyung exclaims, looking around the room. His lips are stretched in an unnatural grin. “In Daegu. I received a scholarship in Daegu.” Taehyung repeats again softly, looking directly at Yoongi.

“What?” Seokjin stands up. “Taehyung, that’s great. I hadn’t even known you had applied for a scholarship.”

Neither did Yoongi.

“Well, I was considering it for a while. It would be nicer to live closer to home so I could visit my family often. But I didn’t actually think I’d get it,” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk scoffs. “You knew you would, you’re a fucking genius.”

“Okay, I knew I would. But I was still surprised.”

“Wait—wait but why are you dressed like that?” Namjoon sounds as confused as Yoongi feels.

“Oh. I’m holding a funeral. My life in Seoul as you know it is ending. I thought it was worthy of a funeral,” Taehyung shrugs, grinning goofily. “I was lowkey annoyed you all came so early. I thought I would have time to make a funeral march or something.”

Yoongi’s world is fucking spinning round and round and round and he’s not sure which way is up or down and Taehyung’s grinning like nothing’s wrong, but his smile is stretched out so unnaturally Yoongi knows he’s upset and everyone is getting up to congratulate him and—

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”  Yoongi bursts out, taking a furious step towards Taehyung.

There’s a shocked silence but Yoongi doesn’t care, not when Taehyung’s leaving Seoul, leaving Yoongi here alone without a fucking heads up.

“Yoongi?” Taehyung sounds surprised. He reaches towards Yoongi but he twists away from Taehyung’s grip and his hands fall limply to his side.

“How is everything a joke to you? How can you take something like this so fucking lightly?” Yoongi’s chest is heaving and it hurts so fucking much because of the amount of effort he’s putting into breathing so he doesn’t break. There’s something wet on his cheeks and he brushes them away angrily, alarmed and upset at himself and how he’s reacting. Min Yoongi doesn’t cry. No fucking way.

Taehyung’s expression is so soft, so gentle, but it has a note of finality to it that Yoongi just can’t fucking accept.

“Uh—we’re gonna go,” Jeongguk mutters, tugging Jimin towards the door. “We just realized that we—we haven’t done… our dishes.”

Suddenly the apartment is filled with awkward murmurs and half-assed excuses, before the rest file out quickly, the door closing behind them with a snap. The candle flickering casts strange shadows across Taehyung’s delicate features for a second before Taehyung blows the candle out, setting it on the coffee table and Yoongi wants to laugh because it’s so fucking dramatic. But his life isn’t a K-drama. It’s real life.

Taehyung takes his stupid hat off. “C’mon Yoongi. Don’t be like that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Why, why, why?

Taehyung rubs his hand across his eyes and suddenly, he looks a lot older than he is. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“You got it that night, didn’t you?” Yoongi swallows heavily. “Last week. That’s why you were so upset.”

“I—yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because you were so happy that night. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. You make me so happy when I see you, Yoongi.” Taehyung lets out a small laugh. “I—I didn’t want to ruin anything. I just… didn’t want to make this harder for me than it already was.”

“Are you fucking serious? How can you be so selfish and only think about yourself? What about me? What about how I feel?”

“Selfish? It’s my fucking scholarship, not yours,” Taehyung’s eyes are blazing with anger and something else Yoongi can’t really put a finger on. “I don’t have to tell you anything if I don’t want to. And I’m sorry because I hurt you, but nothing lasts forever, Yoongi. Not degrees, not jobs, nothing. I’m not going to sit around on my ass waiting for something to happen to me. I would be fucking stupid not to take this scholarship.”

Yoongi gets the feeling that Taehyung isn’t just speaking about the scholarship anymore, and he can feel the ice in Taehyung’s words spreading through his veins, numbing him.

Yoongi laughs, and even to him, it sounds derisive and sarcastic. “You know what, Tae? You’re right. You’re completely fucking right. Why the fuck would you tell me that? I’m the idiot for thinking that you would tell me, I’m the one that should be apologizing.”

The fire in Taehyung’s eyes is dying. Taehyung was never one for confrontation, never one to like conflict. He’d always been the peacemaker, stopping Jimin and Jeongguk’s fights and telling Yoongi to call home more often. He’s too soft, too kind, too gentle—everything Yoongi isn’t. He sighs, and by then, all the fight has sapped out of him But not Yoongi.

“Yoongi, I shouldn’t ha—”

“And besides,” Yoongi continues, egged on by his anger, hurt, and confusion. He can feel the walls Taehyung had knocked down in one go rising again, can feel his heart hardening from the betrayal and hurt he feels. He takes a mocking step towards Taehyung, his lip curling back into a vicious sneer. “You say nothing lasts forever like we were even anything in the first place.”

Yoongi had never been particularly strong—never a great fighter like his older brother—and he had never been that popular or well liked back in his high school. Too scrawny and too weird because he didn’t like talking about girls and sex and cars, and Yoongi had been the outcast. And as a consequence of that, Yoongi had to learn how to fight to fend off Minwoo and his group of friends—a boy who liked to invest a large amount of time into tormenting Yoongi—and since he had never been particularly strong, he had learnt to rely on his words.

Ah, Yoongi and his famous poison tongue. Soon Minwoo and his group of friends came to know that Yoongi was all sharp features and bony elbows and biting words that hurt in all the wrong places. Soon, Minwoo and his friends came to know that if they touched Yoongi wrong they wouldn’t get hurt physically, but instead would their pride, their self-esteem handed back to them in tatters.

It’s who he is, who he’s been since he can remember.

He’s never been ashamed of who he is but for the first time in his life, as he witnesses Taehyung take a step back, his expression hurt and shocked, Yoongi wishes that his words were softer, that he was kinder. Because the next words he hears make his heart drop to his stomach, make his fragile world collapse and break.

“We might’ve been nothing, but I thought we were on our way to becoming something.”

Jeongguk Um no disrespect because I mean this with full offence but dont talk to me or Jimin or Taehyung anymore 6.32pm

Jeongguk Tae literally called us crying so hard Jimin couldnt understand a single word hes saying. I told you not to hurt Taehyung he cant fucking handle this kind of shit 6.32pm

Jeongguk Don’t talk to him again. You’ve done enough 6.33pm

hobi is everything alright? 7.12pm

you have (1) missed call from Joon 8.39pm

you have (2) missed calls from hobi 9.45pm

hobi yoongi can you answer your phone you’re starting to worry me out it’s getting late and jimin answered tae’s phone when i called him and said you weren’t with him and sounded pissed what the hell happened????? why is jimin over at tae’s??? 10.51pm

Seokjin<3 Yoongi can you reply to Hoseok? He’s really worried for you right now—we all are. Where are you? 11.06pm

Joon Dude where are u seriously we’re all really worried can you just please let us know you’re ok 11.23pm

you have (1) missed call from Seokjin<3 11.29pm

you have (1) missed call from Joon 12.34am

you have (3) missed calls from hobi 1.12am

“Hello?”

“Yoongi? Yoongi? Oh my god, are you fucking serious? It’s 2.30AM, where are you? I’m—” Hoseok’s voice comes down the line, shrilly with panic and relief.

“S—seok-ah.”

“Hyung? Are you crying?”

“I don’t know. My face hurts. My heart hurts, Seok. Why does my heart hurt?”

“Oh my god—Jin hyung he called me! I’m talking to him now; he’s so drunk I can barely understand him. Yoongi—Yoongi can you hear me?” There’s a rustling in the background in the background, a slamming of a door.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you? We’re coming to get you. Stay on the line with me, alright? You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m… at the pub near that convenience store Joon threw up in front of. I’m in the toilets.”

“Okay, stay there. We’re coming to get you. Stay on the line with me. Why does your heart hurt, hyung?”

“Seok-ah, I fucked up. I really, really fucked up.”

“Why?” Hoseok’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, so soft that Yoongi’s heart hurts even more.

“I didn’t realize, Hoseok. I d—didn’t realize that Taehyung was the best—best thing I had.”

“Oh, Yoongi.”

“Now I’ve gone and fucked it up like I fuck everything up and he’s g—gone. He’s leaving me and I can’t stop him and everything just fucking hurts so, so much and I wish Tae was—was here with me.”

Yoongi coughs then, so hard he sees black spots and his head throbs. It hurts, but it doesn’t hurt as much as his heart is aching and maybe that’s a good thing.

“Yoongi, hold on okay? I’m right here—”

When Yoongi comes to, he’s in his own bedroom with the sleek white blinds and a floor he can actually see, instead of hideous green curtains and a messy floor covered in clothes and books.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

When Yoongi comes to, the voice that greets him is cheerful and bright and completely different to the low, smooth baritone he’s grown to associate with stupid sweet-talking and ballad singing.

When Yoongi comes to, the first face he sees is Hoseok’s, peering into his own from a safe distance, instead of Taehyung’s face pushing right into his own, way too fucking close for comfort.

He hates it. He fucking hates it.

His tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth and his head feels like there’s a fucking drummer inside, pounding away at the temples of Yoongi’s skull. He groans sluggishly, raising his hand to press it against his head.

“Morning? More like afternoon.” Seokjin’s dry comment comes from somewhere to the left of Yoongi. “Here, Yoongi. I got you some water.”

Yoongi forces himself to sit up, reaching out blindly for the glass of water that materializes magically in his grip. He chugs it down gratefully. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Namjoon watch him apprehensively.

“What?” He doesn’t mean to snap, he really doesn’t.

The three of them jump and avert their gazes quickly, looking embarrassed.

“Uh, so what are your plans tonight?” Namjoon asks awkwardly, swinging his arms back and forth. Seokjin and Hoseok glare at him.

“Sleep.”

“Oh. Okay. We’re gonna go out for dinner, we might be home late. Do you want us to bring you anything?”

“No.”

“Okay, well. See you later?”

“Yeah.”

Yoongi watches them leave, filing out one after the other silently. Then he burrows himself back into bed. Contrary to his words (and this throbbing headache), he doesn’t sleep.

Instead he watches the numbers on his clock flick forward slowly, and as the sun begins to bleed through his blinds, bathing his room in a warm orange, he can’t help but wish the numbers moved backwards instead.

And as the seconds, minutes, hours, days begin to blur together, Yoongi just exists. Doesn’t move forward, doesn’t move backward.

There’s a cavity in his chest, a black hole that gets filled temporarily with alcohol every single night.

Yoongi Tae? 5.12am

Seen: 5.34am

(“Aren’t you worried for Yoongi, hyung? I heard him crying in his room last night. He nearly made me cry, too. It’s so painful listening to him cry.”

“Of course I am, Seok. But what are we going to do?”

“He’s like a living zombie.”

“Joon-ah, you think that’s bad? Imagine living with him. The only reason I know he hasn’t died in his room is because there are plates piling up in our sink and the entire place reeks of alcohol all the time.”

“Shouldn’t we at least tell him that…?”

“I don’t know about you, but I kind of like having my head attached onto my shoulders, thanks.”

“Quit it, both of you. Seriously, what are we going to do? And tomorrow night is…”

“Fuck. I forgot about that.”

“Yoongi hyung doesn’t know, does he?”

“How could he, Joonie?”

“Hoseok, let’s just leave it for now. You don’t slap a Band-Aid over a broken heart and call it a day.”

“Poor hyung…”

“Let’s just try to take his mind off it for now. It’s the least we can do.”)

Yoongi’s sitting on the sofa watching a variety program when he hears Hoseok key in the password, the door clicking open shortly after.

When Hoseok catches sight of Yoongi sitting on the sofa, his eyes widen and he looks distinctly like a deer caught in the headlights. Yoongi mutes the TV, watches the people on the screen scream with laughter for a second before his eyes flick to Hoseok.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were out.”

“Yeah, I—” Hoseok stops himself, toeing off his shoes and padding into the living room. “I didn’t think you’d be awake, it’s pretty late.”

Yoongi watches as Hoseok trudges into the kitchen. He can hear the fridge opening and closing and the sound of running water before Hoseok emerges from the kitchen, carrying a large glass of water. He looks nervous, almost.

“I’m going to go to sleep now, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Where did you go?”

The question is simple, but the way Hoseok freezes midstep makes Yoongi sit up, wary.

“I…” Hoseok sighs, turning around. His grip tightens around the glass of water. “I went for dinner.”

“With Joon and Seokjin?”

“Yeah… and Jeongguk, Jimin, and Taehyung.”

Yoongi can feel himself stiffening at Taehyung’s name. It hurts, seeing the six of them meet up without him, but when half the group wants to land a nicely aimed kick at his family jewels, there’s not really much he can do, he supposes. He clears this throat several times.

“Oh.” Yoongi tries hard to sound casual, but there’s a forced air of nonchalance to his words. “Just a get-together?”

“Taehyung’s going-away dinner. He’s leaving on Friday.” Hoseok’s voice is sympathetic and a little pitying and Yoongi wants to scream at him, wants to tell him he’s okay. Because he is. He really, really is.

“Friday?” Yoongi frowns. “It’s Thursday.”

“He’s leaving tomorrow, Yoongi.”

Hold up.

“Tomorrow?” Yoongi’s standing up and he kind of wants to give himself a moment to applaud himself because he feels like the world is spinning yet somehow he’s still standing upright and that in itself deserve an applause, doesn’t it?

“Yeah. Um—” Hoseok fidgets nervously. “I was meant to give this to you after Taehyung left, but—”

“What? What is it?” Yoongi’s not sure how but one minute he’s standing up in front of the sofa and the next he’s aggressively close to Hoseok’s face and alarmingly close to shaking his lapels.

“Here.”

It’s a nondescript, black USB that looks like the million of others Yoongi has. When Yoongi looks back up at Hoseok for clues he just smiles softly at pats Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Do me a favour and have a look at it now, yeah? I’m rooting for you hyung, we all are.”

Hoseok turns and walks into his room, leaving Yoongi alone in the corridor. Quickly, Yoongi hurries into his room, sitting on his bed and shoving the USB into the port of his laptop, drumming his fingers impatiently as he waits for the USB’s drive to pop up on his screen.

When he’s finally able to click on it, there are two audio files on the disk. One labelled, LISTEN TO THIS FIRST and the other Hold_Me_Tight.mp3. Yoongi can’t help the soft snort that falls from his lips as he clicks on LISTEN TO THIS FIRST, before adding Hold_Me_Tight.mp3 to the queue.

He closes his eyes.

“Okay. So. I don’t know how to start this,” A familiar, warm voice bleeds into his earphones, accompanied by a small, awkward giggle and Yoongi doesn’t realize how much he’s missed this voice until he’s hearing it now. “Do I say hello? Or start this off as a letter and say dear Yoongi? No, a letter is so cheesy. Okay, so… hi Yoongi. It’s me, Taehyungie. It’s… Tuesday. 9.12pm, right now.”

Two days ago, Yoongi realizes with a jerk.

“Anyways, so. Um. Remember that first night we met? When I kidnapped you and you probably thought I was batshit crazy? That was a great night, wasn’t it? I mean, not for you. But for me, it was. Even when you were knocked out, you looked so angry and fired up, but at the same time you were so small and defenceless and there was just… just this part of me that wanted to protect you, y’know?”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth twitches. He bites his lip.

“I mean, it sounds crazy for me to say that it was a great night, but it was. It really was. I just think about—about how… lucky I was. That I looked at you and thought to myself, ‘ah. That’s the one. The one I’m going to kidnap’. Imagine if it wasn’t you? We would’ve never met and I—I don’t even want to think about that.”

“Because you’ve—you’ve become such a big part of my life, Yoongi. You’ve taught and continue to teach me so many things and you act like you don’t care when I can see how much you do and you—you just make me so happy I just don’t know how to explain it. When I’m having a bad day, or when I’m stressed because of my major, I just think about seeing you at the end of the day and it just… lifts my mood up again.”

There’s something wet on Yoongi’s cheeks but he makes no move to wipe them away, his fingers tightening around the sides of his laptop so hard he’s worried it’ll break. Taehyung exhales softly, and when he speaks again, there’s a shy, hesitant tone to his voice and Yoongi’s heart aches and aches and aches.

“Remember that night back at Jimin’s party? When you woke up the next morning and we were in the bed together? You asked me if I remembered the night before and I said no, but I—I lied. I remember everything, Yoongi. I mean I was drunk, but how can I forget the night when you told me that I was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen? How can I forget the night when you told me that you didn’t fuck friends but fucked me like—like I was the only person you could see?” Taehyung exhales roughly and Yoongi can almost imagine the small frown, the way he’ll brush his bangs forward when he gets like this.

“For my major, I wanted to make something meaningful. Since I was writing and producing songs, I wanted to write things that came from my heart, not just something that sounded nice. You know that I have to produce five songs on my own, right? Well one of these songs, I agonized over more than any song. Love—love is hard to capture properly in a song, I think. It’s an emotion that’s hard to pinpoint and hard to say where it starts and where it ends because it’s so fleeting and unpredictable.”

“What—what I’m trying to say is that I—I love you, Yoongi. So much. I think that night at Jimin’s, I began to have an inkling of it, but now—now I’m sure. I love you and I’m sorry. I know I never took things seriously and it annoyed you, especially with the scholarship, but. I just wanted you to know that I never wanted to hurt you. I know I’m doing a cowardly thing because I’m not saying these things to your face, but I’m—I’m not good with these things. So, I’m sorry. And… I hope you like this song and play it lots and think of me when you do.”

Yoongi hardly dares to breathe and for a moment there’s silence.

Then a soft, piano instrumental begins to play and Yoongi is absolutely taken. A soft voice begins to sing, a voice that sounds like liquid gold and dark chocolate and Yoongi realizes with a jolt that it’s Taehyung.

I can only see you

I can only see you alone

The song hurts and tears new wounds in Yoongi’s still bleeding heart but he listens, he listens and listens and listens to the story Taehyung is trying to tell him. When the song finishes he sits there, tears dripping down his cheeks and chin but he makes no move to wipe them away.

He sits there for what could be seconds, minutes, hours, but he sits there as the song loops again and again until it hits him.

It fucking hits him and he realizes with a jolt that he’s going to make the biggest mistake of his life letting Taehyung go. And of course, that’s the most cringey, K-drama-worthy thing to say, so it’s only fitting that Yoongi leaps up from his spot, yanking the earphones out of his ears and jamming on a hoodie over his head as he hurries towards Hoseok’s door, so he can repeat it loudly to make sure Hoseok hears his cringe-worthy confession.

(A rational part of Yoongi’s brain calmly reminds him that it’s nearly 3AM but he doesn’t give a fuck—besides, when do characters in K-dramas ever give a fuck? Answer: they don’t. And therefore, by default, Yoongi doesn’t either.)

“Hoseok!” He hollers loudly into the dark room. He can just make out Hoseok startling awake.

“What the fu—Yoongi? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m fucking not okay at all,” Yoongi says excitedly, sitting on the edge of Hoseok’s bed.

Hoseok blinks sleepily at him. “Then why do you look so happy.”

“Because I just realized I’m about to make the biggest fucking mistake of my life, letting Taehyung go.” And there it is. His cringey, K-drama confession. Uttered out loud to someone who’ll probably never let him forget.

“Uh—”

“I love Taehyung, Seok-ah. I love him! How fucking crazy is that?”

Yoongi doesn’t wait for Hoseok to reply. “Anyways. I gotta go. I have to go tell Taehyung that I love him. There’s so much adrenaline in me it’s crazy. I’d say sorry for waking you up, but I’m not. So. Cya!”

Yoongi registers Hoseok muttering something in reply, something like wait until Seokjin hyung and Namjoon hear about this, but he’s way too keyed up to give a fuck about anything.

Time to tell Taehyung he loves him.

As Einstein would say, it’s show time.

There’s a strange sense of déjà vu that washes over Yoongi as he walks along the familiar street at 3AM on a blessed Thursday night (Friday morning?). He’s done this before.

A year ago, he had been walking along this very same street at the very same time on a very blessed Thursday night when he had been fucking kidnapped and now he’s going down the very same street to tell the very same kidnapper that he fucking loves him.

The universe must be laughing itself stupid right now.

As he’s walking past the convenience store, someone comes out of the store staring down at their phone dressed in a weird, cut-up white sweater, and Yoongi realizes with a jolt that it’s fucking Taehyung. Taehyung.

(Like hello? K-drama, anyone?)

He’s not sure what spurs him on. Maybe it’s the adrenaline running through his veins, keeping him awake and #woke at 3AM, a time when he’s usually fast asleep. Maybe it’s the fear of Taehyung moving away 148 miles to Daegu and leaving him alone in Seoul with Namjoon and Seokjin. There’s a lot of maybe’s and perhap’s.

But he’s not really sure why he sees Taehyung, spots an empty soju bottle lying innocently on the floor, and doesn’t think twice before scooping the bottle, charging towards Taehyung with a loud battle cry and smashing the bottle over Taehyung’s head.

Taehyung crumples and falls to the floor like a fucking rag-doll and Yoongi is left standing over him with a shattered soju bottle in one hand and another hand clamped firmly over his mouth in shock.

There’s a lot of questions racing through Yoongi’s mind—why the fuck did he do that? Is he fucking insane? What the fuck? Is Taehyung okay? —but a bigger question overshadows the rest of them and Yoongi’s really fucking worried.

How the fuck is he going to carry Taehyung all the way back to his apartment?

Fuck.

Somehow, Yoongi’s weak, flimsy noodle arms do manage to drag Taehyung back all the way to his apartment and he spends a better portion of his time fretting over what to do before he calms down and makes sure that there’s no shattered glass on Taehyung (god that was a really fucking stupid move. At least number three on his Never Do This Again List).

He lays Taehyung carefully across his sofa and frets some more, covering him with a blanket before drawing those hideous green curtains shut. When he’s fretted in front of Taehyung enough, he upgrades to worrying in front of Taehyung, pacing back and forth in front of him, sticking a wet finger under Taehyung’s nose every so often to make sure he hasn’t died on him.

God, now he can see why Taehyung looked so fucking scared.

Min Yoongi, at the ripe age of twenty-three, has upgraded from: Min Yoongi, mathematical economics major, retired party animal and lover of bubble tea to Min Yoongi: kidnapper.

He and Taehyung really do fit like two peas in a pod.

Taehyung stirs, startling Yoongi who hurries back to his position right in front of Taehyung, clutching onto Taehyung’s hand tightly. When Taehyung slowly blinks at him, Yoongi feels like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

“Hi.”

Not the smoothest line Yoongi could’ve come up with, but he supposes there are worse things he could’ve said.

“Yoongi?” Taehyung’s eyes are wide with surprise and his voice full of shock, but he is taking it surprisingly well for someone who’s just been knocked out and dragged back to their home.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit. Was—was that you back at the convenience store—”

“Listen. It was an accident. You kidnapping me must’ve traumatized me more than I realized.”

Taehyung blinks at him.  Yoongi stares back at him.

“Why are you here, Yoongi?”

Yoongi crumples a little. “I…”

“You should go.”

“No!” Yoongi bursts out, his voice coming out louder than anticipated. “I mean… I just wanted to say I listened to your song.”

Taehyung flushes and pulls his hand out of Yoongi’s grip as he struggles to sit up, wincing. Yoongi purses his lip. That didn’t sting one little bit. Nope.

“What?”

“Yeah, and what—what you said.”

Taehyung sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Hoseok hyung promised he’d show that to you after I had left.”

“Don’t go, Taehyung.”

Taehyung scoffs at that and Yoongi can see his expression slowly hardening. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Because—because I love you.”

Taehyung swallows. “What?”

“I love you, Taehyung. I—I’ve always had feelings for you and that was why I really couldn’t cope with the fact that you were leaving. And then your—your song. I listened to every single word, over and over because I know you’re not good with words. If you mean what you said in your song—and I know that you do—I can’t, I won’t let you go.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, before taking a step towards Taehyung. “Taehyung, I—I know I’m not good at showing emotion. But I—I’m so, so sorry for saying those things to you. I wanted us to be something, Tae. So bad. But when you said you were leaving that scared me because I just couldn’t imagine how I would—would be without you. How much I would miss all those little things about you, like the way you stutter when you get nervous, or the way you cut yourself off mid-sentence because you think you’re rambling.”

“You hate those things about you, but you don’t understand that I like it when you ramble, or when you stutter. You’re intelligent and funny and witty and just… you’re fucking perfect to me. God, Taehyung, you’re so fucking perfect and—and what I’m trying to say is, please. Please don’t leave me. I love you and I want to be with you and I know that’s fucking selfish of me but—”

“Yoongi?”

Yoongi doesn’t realize he’s breathing heavily until he stops, chest heaving like he’s won a marathon.

(And maybe, just maybe, he has.)

“Yeah?”

“You’re rambling.”

“Oh.”

“And I’m not leaving.”

“I—what?”

Taehyung smiles a little, looking away as red starts to creep up his neck and across his cheeks. “I rejected the scholarship. I’m just going down to Daegu to visit my family for a week.”

“Okay, don’t get me wrong, I’m fucking ecstatic, but why? You said you’d be fucking stupid not to take the scholarship.”

Taehyung laughs at that and it’s beautiful, so fucking beautiful. He reaches out for Taehyung who complies immediately, and Yoongi feels like he’s melting in Taehyung’s warm embrace. His heart hurts, it fucking hurts so much, but it hurts in the best kind of way because Yoongi fucking feels so alive and warm in the heat and comfort of Taehyung’s embrace.

He’s not sure who initiates it, but they’re kissing and Yoongi’s eyes are fluttering shut because nothing else matters when Taehyung’s mouth is on his own, warm and reassuring and moving softly against his. The world seems to halt for them as Taehyung opens his mouth for Yoongi, as Yoongi’s hands reach up to firmly cup the back of Taehyung’s neck, as Yoongi pulls away, only to pull Taehyung again towards him to drown in his heat.

When they finally break apart, Yoongi burrows his head into Taehyung’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and heart racing painfully in his chest. Yoongi leans back to look at Taehyung who smiles softly, raising a hand to brush the back of his fingers against his cheek.

“Well yeah, I am stupid. Stupid for you.”

Min Yoongi, at the ripe age of twenty-three, can safely say that his life is 60% K-drama and 40% porno. But he doesn’t really give a fuck, not when Taehyung smiles down at him softly and leans down to kiss him with a promise of tomorrow.