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softyoongiionly · 6 years ago

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Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Four

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: College Au, Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut (later later), slow-ish? burn

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This chapter features a whole lot of our sweet lil Yoongi 😊

Warnings for this Chapter: mentions of fear, anxiety, Y/N gets a little bit insecure, swearing (of course), suggestive language aka the tension begins!

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 4: Italian Opera and Platinum Hair Dye

The eye roll that you have just performed could have stopped time and space. You were sat on your couch, cross legged, with your phone in one hand while, your other hand absentmindedly ruffled Marzipans fur. After your classes, you had rushed home to insure that your apartment was in mint condition. The take-out containers were disposed of, the litter box was changed and, you had your favorite coconut scented candle burning in living room. Yoongi hadn’t shown up to class that day but, he was courteous enough to text you and let you know that he was still planning on meeting at your apartment that night. Attempting to be a miraculous host, you decided to text him and ask him what he wanted to eat. Ever the chatterbox, he replies:

Yoongi: Meat

Brilliant. Your eye roll comes to a close as you reply:

You: Will the canned cat food in my pantry work?

The chat bubble appears, signifying that he’s typing while you smirk to yourself.

Yoongi: I’ll bring the food.

You snicker, biting your bottom lip, your fingers hoovering over the keys. The fluffy socks adorning your feet wiggle against the arm of the couch as you respond.

You: If you insist.

Marzipan grumbles slightly as you push yourself off of your sofa. Yoongi wasn’t due at your place for another hour so, you decided to hop in the shower and wash the dust and post-apartment cleaning grime from your skin. Grabbing the towel from behind your bedroom door, you headed into the bathroom and turned the water on. There was an unfortunate bubbling in your stomach that was easily identified as nerves. Why were you nervous? It wasn’t a date or anything. It was purely academic. Yoongi was coming over because, his grade depended on it. You were letting him into your apartment because your grade depended on it. There wasn’t any reason to be nervous and yet, here you were. Despite this being a completely academic endeavor, you still decided to utilize the homemade coffee scrub that Y/F/N made you for your birthday. You never need an excuse to have soft skin. As the water washes down the drain, you towel off and apply some of your thick body butter that smells like cinnamon-sugar. This part was normal for your post-shower routine because, again, you never need an excuse to have soft skin and, you sure as hell never need an excuse to smell like cinnamon. You don’t really fuss with a lot of makeup: just enough to cover the blemish on your chin. After, throwing on a pair of leggings and an oversized t shirt, the clock read 4:45 which means: Yoongi should be about 15 minutes away.

Sure enough, you feel your phone vibrate as Yoongi’s name appears on the screen.

Yoongi: What’s your apartment number? I think I’m close.

You: Floor 22 Apartment 17C

Yoongi: Ok thanks.

That annoying bubbling returns to your stomach and, you breathe out through your nose in an attempt to calm down. This is actually ridiculous, guys don’t normally make you nervous and, Yoongi isn’t the only man that you’ve ever had in your apartment: Jimin is literally there all the time. You decide that plugging in your laptop and straightening up the couch is a good idea as, it will distract you from your stupid unnecessary nerves. There was an idea floating around your head regarding how to approach confronting your first fear. Opera wasn’t completely terrifying but, it did make you incredibly uncomfortable. However, in the spirit of the assignment, you decided to stomach an entire opera video and, attempt to listen and appreciate the music instead of, frantically trying to drown out the sound as you usually did. You weren’t entirely sure how Yoongi was planning to approach his fear of dyeing his hair. Were the two of you just gonna watch hair-dyeing tutorials or was he planning on dyeing his hair green? You giggle at the image of Yoongi with green hair as; you fold one of your throw blankets and place it over the back of your couch. The giggle escaping your mouth is cut short when you hear a gentle knock on your front door. Marzipan scurries off the couch and into your bedroom to avoid any unexpected social interaction, as you make your way towards the noise.

Swinging the door open, you see Yoongi standing there, wearing a long black hoodie, a black snapback adorned with silver rings on the bill and, some ripped up black jeans. In his hands, he’s gripping what looks like a takeout bag, the scent of which is making your mouth water, and another bag that looks like it came from the drugstore.

“Canned cat food, really?” His doll lips are curved into an incredulous smile, his cat like eyes disapproving.

“Be more specific next time.” You reply simply, taking one of the bags from his grip as you usher him inside. Yoongi slips off his shoes, his eyes peering around your place, almost as if he’s studying his surroundings.

“Nice place.” He comments, his tongue poking against his cheek.

“Thank you,” You smile before gesturing to takeout, trying to contain your excitement. “What are we eating?”

Yoongi sets the food down on your toffee colored coffee table, stretching his arms momentarily before he replies.

“It’s Chinese from that place on 88th street, you know the one with the dragon on the door?” He explains, his murky eyes narrowing slightly at his question.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen that place before but, I’ve never actually been in. Are they good?” You start pulling the different dishes out of the bags. There’s orange chicken, teriyaki beef, spicy pork, and, absolutely no sides.

Yoongi is nodding vigorously, his mouth already full of his own side of beef. You giggle, shaking your head at the options before you.

“You weren’t lying when you said wanted meat hm?” Your fingers wrap around your chopsticks, as Yoongi finally swallows. He shrugs his shoulders, his chopsticks searching for another bite before settling on a sticky orange piece of chicken.

“I never lie.” He responds before biting into the chicken. “Unless my roommates and I are playing poker, in that case, I lie very well.”

“I can imagine you having a pretty severe poker face.” You concede, smirking slightly. “How much do I owe you by the way, for the food?”

Yoongi’s soft features wrinkle slightly as he shakes his head, waving you off.

“Don’t worry about it”

“No, really, how much? This is a lot of food, plus you had to drive through the city and shit to get here. At least let me pay my half.”

Yoongi rolls eyes, already chewing a new bite.

“Don’t worry about it.” He insists, his gaze pointed and certain as he continues. “You can get the next round if it makes you feel better.”

Sighing and swallowing, you surrender, too hungry and flustered to argue.

“Well, thank you.” The gratitude leaves your lips as, you start on another bite of tangy chicken.

You and Yoongi settle into a comfortable silence, the two of you picking off every last bit of the meal. Your gaze settles on the other mystery bag that Yoongi had brought with him before nodding to it.

“What’s in the other bag?” Your curiosity gets the better of you as you use a wet nap to wipe your hands.

Yoongi’s head turns to where your gaze was directed at before he turns back to you.

“It’s something for the project. I’ll show you in a sec.” You nod before moving to clear the trash from the table. After gathering it into the takeout bag, with Yoongi’s help, you take the empty containers to the kitchen and, throw them in the trash chute.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You call to Yoongi as you peer into your fridge. “I have water, juice, soda, and I think there’s some Soju that my friend left in here.” Jimin had come over the night before to try on his different showcase outfits and, he ended up having to crash on your couch because, he got a little too tipsy.

“Water’s good, thank you.” Yoongi’s soft voice echoes toward you, his gaze fixated on his laptop as he turns it on.

With a bottle of water in each hand, you make your way make to the living room and plop yourself down on the fluffy cushions.

“Ok so, we have Opera and dyeing your hair so, should we just play some Italian opera while we watch a hair dye tutorial or something? You offer, giggling lightly. Yoongi scoffs, his finger stalling on his mouse pad.

“Are you only afraid of Opera if it’s in Italian?” He teases, looking over at you, his expression clearly one of judgement.

“No,” you insist, rolling your eyes. “It’s all horrible. I’m just not totally sure how we should do this.”

“I think we should start by explaining our fears.” Yoongi begins, his chocolate eyes shifting focus. Leaning forward, he sets his laptop back on your coffee table before he looks your way, a smirk starting to form on his lips. “Like, you could start by telling me why you’re afraid of Opera.”

You grumble slightly, biting back a smile, your eyes finding his as you let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine,” Your posture shifts on the couch so it’s slightly pointed towards Yoongi, your feet tucking up onto the cushion. There was a physical sense of discomfort taking over your body as you prepared to tell this story, regretting slightly that you even put Opera on your list in the first place. It wasn’t exactly a fear; it was an extremely severe aversion. “When I was little, my parents used to work insanely long hours; like 15-16 hour days. So, every day, my grandma would pick me up from preschool and I would stay at her house until my parents were off work.” Another sigh leaves your lips as you push a hand over your face. There’s also an audible groan as you look over at Yoongi for mercy. You conclude that he is, in fact, a cat in human form since he seems to delight in your upcoming misery.

“Mhm, go on.” His tone is encouraging but, his eyes hold all of the sarcasm that they normally do.

“Well, my grandma was sort of, wild. She was really cool and everything but, she didn’t exactly act like a typical grandma. She made me dinner and helped me with my schoolwork but, there were some nights, after I went to sleep, that she would have a friend over, sometimes, multiple friends.” You can feel yourself wincing, letting out a frustrated groan. Yoongi’s disposition remains the same as he stares at you, stifling a laugh as he waits for you to continue.

“Her and her friends were very loud so, in order to drown out the sound, she would play Opera throughout the whole house. Her bedroom was right next to mine so, the Opera did nothing but, provide background music to the sounds of my grandma getting her rocks off, on the other side of wall.” You sort of rush out the last part of your explanation, your cheeks flushed with disgust as you flop against the back of the couch. By this time, Yoongi’s rickety laugh has made an appearance, his hand clutching his stomach lightly as he shakes his head.

“So, you’re afraid of Opera because it reminds you of your grandma…” He begins and you find it odd that he’s unable to finish the sentence, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Having sex?” You finish giggling “Yes. Oh my god it was horrible and, my 3 year old self didn’t realize what was going on. It just sounded like my grandma was like…exercising? Ugh I don’t know.” You and Yoongi are both giggling at this point and, you feel warmth inside of you that you attempt to ignore. “It wasn’t until I was 8 or 9 that I finally realized what she was doing and, by then my parents had started me in daycare.”

“That’s…really gross.” Yoongi concludes, still chuckling lightly as he takes a sip of his water. You nod in agreement, your body shifting towards him slightly.

“It really is.” You nod to him, your gaze turning slightly mischievous. “Ok I think that’s enough childhood trauma for now, what about you?”

Yoongi simply shrugs, his expression returning to his normal unimpressed disposition.

“Baldness runs in my family.” He responds, deadpanning you.

You roll your eyes, an airy laugh escaping your lips.

“Fair enough. Well, I’m prepared to listen to like…I don’t know…a full opera song? Do you want to…watch hair dye fails or something?” You suggest whilst Yoongi leans over and grabs the bag on the floor. He casually pulls it open and empties the contents onto your couch. You can easily recognize the brushes used for hair dye and a few bottle of pigment tumbling out of the bag.

“Wait, do you actually want to dye your hair?” Disbelief flickers over your face as you stare at the contents on the couch, Yoongi shrugs again, pouting his lips in thought.

“I definitely don’t want to but, we’re supposed to confront out fears so, I figured I’d go all out.” He explains rather casually, picking up the box in front of him. It was then that you noticed Yoongi’s color choice: Platinum Blonde. “Also, my roommate said he’d pay me $50 if I did it.”

“You’re absolutely sure you want to do this?” You had to admit that you were surprised. Yoongi didn’t really strike you as someone who took many risks, as he always seemed rather underwhelmed by everything.

“Well, I’m not doing anything; you’re going to do it.” He explains, eyebrows raised in your direction.

“What if I mess up? I don’t want your hair to fall out?” You counter, eyebrows raised back at him.

He cringes slightly at the thought before shaking his head, a breath escaping his nose.

“My hair won’t fall out, and even if it does, it’s not a big deal, I’ll just hate you forever.” Yoongi’s gaze is playful but, his tone is unchanging as he nudges the supplies towards you.

You roll your eyes, picking up the box, your eyes scanning the instructions. It was a 5 step process that promises to take hair from “the darkest black to the shiniest platinum in under 2 hours!” That sounds incredibly gimmicky and, you feel nervous at the thought of actually messing up Yoongi’s hair. It’s so pretty and soft-looking and you really want to run your fingers through it. And pull it. Hard. You feel your eyes widen at your own inner monologue and Yoongi smirks at you.

“You good?” He inquires, his head tilted, a smirk still playing on his mouth.

“I’ll get some towels.”

A few moments later, Yoongi is sat on a chair in the middle of your living room floor. Earrings have been removed, towels have been laid out and, your laptop is open with a video titled ‘The Best of Opera Masterpieces. 6 Hours of Classical Music Nonstop.’ Who the hell wants to listen to Opera for 6 hours? Your hands were covered on black latex gloves and, you have your hair tied up in a bun on top of your head. In hindsight, confronting your fears at the same time wasn’t the best idea because, you were nervous enough just dyeing Yoongi’s hair but, with Opera music playing in the background, your anxiety level was at 9000. Yoongi however, couldn’t be more unbothered, he’s sat on one of your two dining chair, phone in hand, scrolling through a site that appeared to sell music equipment.

“Ok, I think I have everything set up, are you ready?” You ask him, one of the bottles in your hand.

He nods, eyes still trained on the screen.

“Go for it.”

Your fingers start at his black tresses, moving pieces to the side before squirting some of the purple liquid on his hair. Yoongi leans forward and presses play on the video, Opera music filling the room. You wince at the sound but, you do your best to focus on the task at hand.

“Ooh, this one is in Italian. Are you sure you’re going to be ok?” Yoongi jests as you continue working on his hair.

“Shut up.”

The rickety laugh finally makes an appearance before, the two of you settle into a comfortable silence. You work through the discomfort radiating throughout your body whilst diligently applying the dye to Yoongi’s raven locks. The task of dyeing his hair is actually helping you focus on something, rather than just cringing at the wailing coming from your screen. Things were going pretty smoothly until you feel Yoongi’s figure shaking lightly. Your eyes scan over him before you realize he was bouncing one of his legs rather vigorously and, it was causing his head to move too much.

“Stop bouncing your leg, I’m going to get dye all over you.” You nudge him lightly, giggling before moving to apply more dye to untouched hair. Yoongi stops for a moment before, immediately starting to bounce his leg again, smirking as he does. Without thinking, you tug on the dry part of his hair lightly and, immediately the room thickens with something you didn’t want to identify. Yoongi makes a sound in the back of throat that sounds like a very faint…whine?

“Oh shit, Yoongi, did I hurt you?” You peer over his shoulder in concern and, see that his cheeks have been decorated with a pretty intense rouge. His dark eyes shoot up to yours for a moment before looking back down at his phone. He scoffs.

“No but, I’d like to keep as much hair as possible so, don’t be ripping it out please.” He doesn’t sound irritated, he sounds, for the first time, like he’s nervous. “Is this song getting to you yet?”

A smooth subject change forces you to ignore the bubbling that returned to your stomach. Although this feeling was slightly different than the one you felt before Yoongi arrived.

“Actually, it’s not that bad. I think dyeing your hair is distracting me from wanting to vomit.” You explain, an airy laugh passing your lips. Your fingers brush over Yoongi’s ear as you smooth his hair into place. The action causes his neck to erupt in goosebumps and, you feel your mouth curve up into a smirk.

“Are you cold or anything?”

“N-no, I’m fine.” Yoongi’s voice sounds shaky but, his focus is zeroed in on his screen so, you can’t tell is he’s lying or just distracted.

After about 30 minutes, Yoongi’s head was covered in purple goop and, the onyx color was already lifting from his locks. He had mercifully stopped the video, deciding that almost an hour worth of Opera was enough. In the bag, there was also a hair cap that you were currently securing to Yoongi’s head. You lean down towards him checking to make sure his hair was completely tucked into the plastic. Yoongi visibly shrinks away from your figure as you near him and you feel a little drop in your stomach. Oh. That’s never a good sign. Quickly leaning away from him, you nod to the clock on his phone.

“What time is it?”

His eyes glance towards the top of his screen before he replies, his voice laced with sleepiness.

“It’s almost 10, how long do I have to keep this stuff in my hair?” His brown eyes look upwards as if the action would allow him to see his scalp.

“The box says 45 minutes.”

He nods before rising from the chair, stretching his limbs as he does so.

“Ok, I’m heading out then.” You sort of flinch at his abruptness, moving to the side as he gathers his belongings.

“Oh, we’re not finishing it here so; I can see how it turns out? I need to know if I should change my major to cosmetology.” The joke passes your lips whilst you force disappointment to the corner of your mind.

Yoongi smirks slightly, packing his laptop in his backpack.

“I’ll text you picture when it washes out.” He promises as slings his bag over his shoulder, fishing his keys out of the front pocket.

You nod, meandering along beside him as he walks toward the door.

“Ok, well, thanks for the food and everything. I’ll see you Tuesday?” You offer, attempting to make your voice sound casual and Yoongi flashes a small smile your way.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Thank you for having me. Have a good night.” He waves, his mouth doing the [: thing again as he steps out of your apartment.

“Yeah, you too, drive safe.”

Yoongi turns back and waves before sticking his headphones in his ears and getting into the elevator.

Stepping back inside your apartment, you couldn’t help but, feeling a little…weird? Like, obviously Yoongi was your classmate and the two of you were only hanging out because, you literally had to but, you had been entertaining the thought that the two of you could at least be friends. However, the way Yoongi behaved towards the end of the night led you to believe that he wasn’t really interested in forming any sort of relationship with you and, that didn’t feel great. You were attracted to him so, maybe you had also thought of other things that slightly stepped over the friendship line but, your mind was quite certain that someone like him wouldn’t be interested in someone like you. It would be nice to be wrong though, for once. At this bit of self-depreciation, you decide to stop yourself. There was no way you were going down that road again. You had spent far too long comparing yourself to others and looking down on yourself and, you weren’t about to fall back into those patterns. You are you and, that’s enough.

Cleaning up your apartment doesn’t take long but, by the time you finish throwing the towels in the hamper, you feel the familiar pull of exhaustion on your body. Marzipan has already perched herself on the towel beside yours and, that confirms that it is in fact, time to sleep. As you lay in bed, pants removed, hair in a newly made bun, you send a few memes to the group chat you share with your best friends, eloquently named, Bros for Life (Jungkook obviously). You giggle to yourself as your friends, mainly Jungkook, start contributing to the conversation with some of their own fresh memes. You fall asleep an hour or so later and, if anyone asks you definitely didn’t dream of Yoongi and his stupid smile.

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